#MAC YOU HAVE REQUESTS TO WORK ON! STOP MOPING!

[blackmesa-vr]

🥊🏆

[carli-meows]

i think Thinking_Computers Machintosh is different from One Cloud Gang Machintosh

in a sense that in the album Mac is mainly told from the perspective of how Sam and Yün know him; a calculated hustler who knows how to solve problems within making more, but is quicl to state that he's in control

which now that ive been pondering the rest of his story, that's not who he is

but Sam and Yün dont really keep tabs on him like that since cyborg folk tend to have objectives that span for decades

anyways

Mac falling in love with KangolLeen in 1990 is what drives him to buckle down more seriously, that happens before the album, since his disposition got more protective overall her and that's the side his friends often see

he's trying to hide this girl from his profession as much as possible to the point where they move away to the coast and live happily

until around 2004 where he is seized by apple for an update, where he's literally dragged away from KangolLeen and loses his claw and that's all she has left of him

during this time she stops dpeaking and moves back to her native planet and spends her days making music underground and moping around the many alleys of the Greay Scale

meanwhile Mac is fighting Apple directly with the help of Sam and Yün, who work on hurting business not knowing Mac is trying to assassinate his creator.

In 2014 he does take down Steve Jobs by his own hands, strangling him to death and tossing his corpse from a Apple office building.

He then spends 5 years in prison before being let out due to being pardoned by the Task Management Programmes, who's main goal is to replace Apple in the advertising world (they didnt need Mac, but they definitely needed to wipe any proof that Apple's poster boy went to prison)

the Programmes offer him to be freed and 30 million dollars, to which Mac asks for his own radio station and the rights to Daisy Bell which was previously owned by his distant cousin at the time.

he then spent the next 10 years working with radio djs and occult members to try to get the song to play far enough out of the universe hoping KangolLeen will hear the song they used to share together... one day

the year is 2029, one lonely night while listening for samples on her radio, KangolLeen hears it, Daisy Bell being played on the loud speakers outside her box

all the way down every alley on every radio, it's Daisy Bell being sang

she is shaken and tunes into the news to find out what is happening only to see that a wave of Humans have managed to make a portal on Ringling Row and by request are playing Daisy Bell everywhere.

there's reports of humans asking around for her, but the Jyezters fear they are hunting her, since she never seemed to bother anyone and the sudden invasion in the middle of the night is not exactly smiled upon in Cloune Towne

So a gang called the Pinz gather to keep her hidden and safe from the invaders, to which she constantly tries to investigate them all to piece together why would they use that song? why on every speaker?

after a month of asking around and getting shooed away, one of them knocks on her box's door after narrowly making it around her security

she opens the mail slot and sticks out a hand for her mail, only to be greeted by Macintosh, who asks "You seen a small Cloune with purple skin and white hair? she looks like this." as he's talking she opens the door with tears running down her face as she tries to say his name but her voice is gone.

they share their first hug in 25 years

the search stops and Mac sends the humans back to Urthe, finally leaving all of it behind and being with KangolLeen once more, and promising to stay with her for as long as he lives

the crying lessens as time goes by for Kangol, and everytime she does, Mac is there for her, she will never have to cry alone again

after a while, they begin to heal, somethings are irreversible but they stay determined to help eachother. Mac tries to help KangolLeen speak again or at least communicate in a understandable fashion and takes care of her

Kangol mends and fixes up Mac who has excessive wear and tear all over. eventually Mac changes his last name to Kangol's to fully cut ties with his past

now he and Kangol make music and live a simple married life between cyborg and clown

... that's too much writing

[jamiemac26]

Our Album - Part Nine

Without You - By Jamie Mac

A Taron Egerton FanFiction - Our Album Masterlist

Hayden scrolled through the pictures on her phone. Their smiling faces only making her feel worse about her current situation. She stopped on one in particular. Taken the night they rode the London Eye, it was the epitome of the perfect couple. She studied her face. She couldn’t help but notice how she looked at Taron. There was a sparkle in her eye and what can only be described as adoration in the way she gazed at him. Her heart thumped in her chest and she blinked back the tears that were once again threatening to escape. She swiped at the screen again and again, her entire relationship played out like a movie, a movie with an ending that she regretted.

She was still scrolling through photos when Olivia came home, flopping down on the couch next to her.

“What are you doing?” She snatched the phone from Hayden’s hands.

“I’m regretting my life’s decisions.”

“Sitting here looking at pictures won’t help you fix and or change those decisions.”

“I know that but there isn’t anything I can do. I’ve fucked up royally and now I’ve lost him for good.”

“Oh suck it up Hayden,” Olivia stood up, tucking Hayden’s phone into her back pocket. “If you want him back. If you want your life with him back, you have to get up off your ass and do something about it. This whole moping about will not get you what you want.”

“Can I have my phone back please,” Hayden stared up at her friend, hand outstretched.

“Not until you admit that you want to fight for this man,” Olivia’s hand went to her hip.

“What good will that do Liv? He’s got someone else. He doesn’t want me.”

“Do you actually listen to yourself?”

“You saw the same footage I did Liv. You saw him with her. I can’t compete with someone like that. Did you see her legs?”

“My god Hayden, stop it. Do you still have feelings for Taron?”

Hayden nodded her head, afraid to look at her friend.

“Do you still love Taron?”

Hayden nodded again.

“I can’t hear you,” Liv sat down on the coffee table, forcing Hayden to look at her.

“Yes Liv! Yes I’m still in love with him. Yes I still want to be with him. No, I don’t want to be without him. What more do you want me to say? Saying all of this out loud does not help me get him back.”

“It may not help you get him back, but it makes you realize how you feel and it makes you want to actually fight for something. You’re always so quick to turn tail and run but do you ever really stand up and fight?”

Hayden stayed silent. Olivia was right, she had a horrible habit of running away from her problems. She never stood strong and dealt with them head on. She’d lost so many wonderful things in her life because she had been scared, because she had chosen the chicken’s way of dealing with life. Was she honestly willing to lose this too?

“Look kid, I’m here if you need me and you know that, but you’ve got to make the decision to fight before my help will do you any good.” Olivia stood, walking into the kitchen, leaving Hayden alone with nothing but her thoughts.

It had been two weeks since she’d seen him walk the red carpet with another woman. Two week since Olivia had forced her to admit her feelings. Two weeks of staring at the photos on her phone. Two weeks of fretting about what to do, but gaining absolutely no ground. She turned the phone over and over again in her hands. She’d opened up a new text message to him too many times to count. Each time she’d get a letter closer to hitting send, but she’d allow the fear to stop her. What good would it do, she’d tell herself. How would she feel if he told her that he no longer wanted her? She’d be devastated but at the same time, how was she feeling now? She was so lost. She hated to admit it, but Taron had given her a sense of freedom that she hadn’t felt with anyone else. He had made her smile. He had made her laugh. He had made her feel safe. He had been so many things and without him, without him she wasn’t who she wanted to be.

“Liv,” Hayden yelled.

Footsteps sounded down the hall and her friend’s face appeared in her doorway.

“What’s up buttercup?” Liv’s grin made Hayden create one of her own.

“I need your help,” Hayden sighed, knowing that she needed to fully acknowledge her wrong doings before she could move forward.

“Awww, I do love hearing those words,” Liv took a seat at the end of Hayden’s bed.

“Stop gloating. Look, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I’m not ready to give up.”

“Go on my dear, I do want to hear more…” Liv’s grin grew larger.

Hayden shook her head, “I want him back. I’ve realized that I’m whole when I’m with him and without him… Oh god Liv, without him I am so lost. I never thought I’d say that about a guy, but a part of me is gone without him.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m doing this...I’m asking you to help me.”

“Are you honestly willing to stand and fight and not run?”

Hayden nodded her head, “I don’t want to run anymore. I don’t want to push him away. I need him back in my life. I just need him. I need his kisses. I need his warmth. I need his comfort and his strength. I need his corny jokes and I need his smiles. I am aware that he has probably moved on but I will forever hate myself if I don’t at least try and get him back. At the very least, I want to apologize to him for not believing in us. For not trusting him the way I should have.”

Olivia watched as her friend bared her soul, the tears streaming down her face. She reached over and grabbed a tissue, handing it to her fragile friend. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do to help you.”

“I know that he’ll talk to you Liv, he always liked you.” Hayden sniffed, wiping at her eyes.

“Maybe, if we’re lucky, he’ll still be in London. I can try and get a hold of him for you. In the meantime, however, you and me, we need to get out of this apartment and enjoy our young single lives.”

Hayden smiled, nodding her head, “The Garden Shed?”

“Once again, you have read my mind. Tomorrow night?”

Hayden nodded and Olivia patted her on the shoulder.

“Try and get some sleep kid, it’s time that you let your soul rest.” Olivia walked towards the bedroom door, stopping briefly to look back at her friend. Her heart ached for Hayden, but she knew that the heartache would hopefully be ending soon.

Hayden looked up as the door closed quietly behind Liv. She stared at her phone once again, pressing gently on the text message app.

Hayden: T… I miss you

Her finger hoovered over the send button, her mind racing. She pushed back the fear and let her finger fall, the whoosh sound sending a jolt of nerves through her body. She sighed, shutting her phone down for the night.

“Joe, you’ve got to do this for me. Hell, not for me, you’ve got to do this Hayden.” Liv tapped her foot impatiently at the bartender. “You’re our friend man, come on!”

Joe rolled his eyes, “You use that friend bit on me every other week Liv, seriously tonight is not karaoke night.”

“No shit man, I know that but I need you to break your damn rules for me tonight.”

“Why Liv?”

“For love Joe, for love,” Liv leaned against the bar, staring Joe down.

He threw up his hands in defeat, “Well who am I to go against love? You have to set that shit up though and help take it down. I don’t have the extra man power tonight and since I’m doing this for you, you can do this for me.”

“Fine, whatever you want,” Liv’s grin was wide.

“You know where it is, get to work,” Joe handed her the keys to the backroom and Liv gladly took them from his outstretched hands.

“When the other guys get here, send them back, I’m going to need help.” Liv called over her shoulder as she jogged towards the back of the familiar bar.

Taron: What time am I supposed to be there again?

Olivia: I swear to god you never listen…. 8:30 and do not be late. I will be bringing Hayden there at 9 and you need to be singing when we walk in.

Taron: How did you manage to pull this whole thing off?

Olivia: Because I’m a damn miracle worker, that’s how.

Olivia set her phone down as she finished plugging in wires for the sound system. She honestly wasn’t sure how she’d managed to pull all of this off, but somehow, with fate’s helping hand, she’d have the two of them in the same room in a few hours.

Taron: She texted me last night.

Olivia read his text over and over again. A small smile formed and pride burst in her chest. Hayden had surprised her but that would only lend to tonight’s success.

Olivia: Did you reply?

Taron: No. I should have but…

Olivia: But what?”

Taron: I think she just needed to say what she said. I don’t think she wanted me to reply. I let her have her moment and tonight I’ll have mine.

Olivia: Good lad. No wonder she seemed happier this morning. I’m quite impressed she texted you to be honest.

Taron: Me too.

Olivia: 8:30 Egerton and don’t you dare be late.

Taron: And face your evil wrath… I’ll be there.

The smokey bar had become such a familiar staple in Hayden’s life. She truly did love this place, even with all of it’s quirks. As the bouncer opened the door, the flood of music hit her ears. She wrinkled her nose in confusion, it wasn’t karaoke night. Did she have the wrong date? No, it was Saturday and Olivia was standing behind her, laughing at something the bouncer had said. She entered the room, her eyes doing their accustomed adjusting. She waved at the bartender, before proceeding across the room. She glanced behind her, Liv having stopped to talk to someone else. She stepped up to the bar, Joe handing her a drink. She thanked him, taking a slow sip, allowing the alcohol to slightly burn her throat.

“Man, it’s a packed house tonight,” Liv leaned next to her.

“Why the karaoke? I thought that was on Thursday nights.”

“Normally is kid,” Joe placed a drink in front of Olivia. “Special night tonight. Patron request.”

Before Hayden could inquire further, Joe had disappeared to the other end of the bar. Hayden shrugged, taking another long sip. The music stopped briefly, another song soon taking it’s place. The familiar beats filled her head and she turned sharply towards the stage as a voice she knew as well as her own echoed throughout the crowded space.

[adampage]

Blind Date | Shane McMahon

Pairing: Shane McMahon x Reader (in first person)

Word Count: 4,538

Have you had any requests for Shane Mcmahon, if not can I request one where you and shane go on a blind date and it’s lust at first sight. - anon

Warnings: Smut. NSFW. Daddy kink. Spanking. That’s it.

Tagging: @llowkeys / @hardcorewwetrash / @crowleysqueenofhell / @reigns420 / @justrae9903 / @squirrel666 / @welshwitch5 / @eckort / @we-work-hard / @0miss-fandomness0 / @freekmode / @xxmaddhatter39xx / @sjwrites22 / @the-geekgoddes / @xstylesxclashx / @roman-reigns-princess / @unabashedwwesmut / @mewsburger

Author’s Note: I’m taking requests!!  My first Shane O Mac fic. Please be gentle?? lol.

I couldn’t believe my ears. “You fucking did what?”

“You heard me. I set you up with someone. And you’re going.”

“Naomi. Naomi, I am not.”

“Bitch, yes you are. Now get ready. I’m tired of seein’ you a mess.”

I let out a long, dramatic sigh. For weeks, I’d been moping around in Naomi and Jimmy’s house. I’d lost my job, my apartment, and my boyfriend all in the same week. No correlation. Naomi had taken me in, ever the sweetheart, but even her kindness and patience had its limits. I didn’t blame her. But this was ridiculous. Still, it was a change of scene. I hadn’t been out and about since my breakup with The Accountant. I refused to call him by his name. He was an asshole, and an asshole didn’t deserve a name. “Fine,” I said, shrugging. “But what do I wear? Where am I meeting him?” “Does it matter? You’re gonna look fabulous all the same.” “Naomi, please. How I dress is the one thing I’m in control of right now.” She gave me the side eye. “You call that tangled ass hair and sweatpants, ‘in control’? I’d hate to see you out of it.” “Naomi!” “All right. Look.” She sat down on my bed, put my hands in hers, squeezing them gently. “I know it’s been rough for you. I’m sorry I’m being so mean. If it helps, you can use anything in my closet or in my jewelry box.” I expressed my thanks for her kindness with the only possessions I had - a smile and an embrace. She patted my hair, and I could hear her sniff. “Um, sweetie…and you might ought to shower beforehand.” “Thanks, Naomi.” “Just tryin’ to help, boo.”

It took me more than an hour to get ready. Naomi said that whoever it was (because the asshole didn’t want to tell me), they were taking me out somewhere super elegant, so dress accordingly. She didn’t give me any more clues, but it was good enough. This was so strange. I’d only ever been on a blind date once before, and it had been an absolute disaster. I was taking classes at the local community college, and a girl who I thought was my friend set me up with some loser ex-boyfriend of hers because she wanted to teach him a lesson. He was rude, and egotistical, and just downright uncivil. When I cornered her about it the next day, all she did was laugh. I spilled my red drink all over her white pants. Because fuck her. Astoundingly, Naomi had quite a selection of pearls. If it was elegant we were doing, it was elegant this man was going to get. No diamonds, nothing too rich or fancy. Just an elegant, long, pastel pink dress cut just right, a string of pearls that accentuated my cleavage, two pearl studs, and the silver ring my mom bought with her first real paycheck on my right hand. Oh, and a jacket. Because depending on how the date went, my cleavage wasn’t making an appearance. “Well, god damn,” Jimmy commented, as I walked into the kitchen. I twirled, grinning. Naomi fought back the urge to punch him, and smiled. “Gorgeous, right? I just know he’ll love her.” “Damn right he will. He’d be stupid not to. Don’t tell the boss man I said that, though.” My eyes zeroed in on Jimmy, hand reaching to cover my mouth. “He’s your boss?” Now Naomi really did punch him. “Jimmy! The fuck? I told you to shut up and not say anything!” As Jimmy protested and nursed his injury, I began to stammer, “N-Naomi, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, it’s your boss. Are you-” “Nuh-uh, sweetie. You’re doing this.” “Maybe I should just-” “Look,” she came over to me, placed her hands on the sides of my face. “He’s going to love you. I know he will.” She dragged me by the arm out of the kitchen, out of earshot of her husband. “I’m closer to our boss than Jimmy is. We talk a lot. Jimmy thinks he’ll like you because the man thinks with his dick. But I know him better than that. He’s not just going to like you for your appearance. He’s going to like you because of who you are.” My creased brow relaxed at the influence of her words, and my mouth curved into a smile. “Aww, Nae.” I embraced her and I didn’t want to let her go. Naturally, of course, the doorbell rang, stirring whatever anxiety I’d had earlier awake from its slumber. “Aight, get off me, the car is here!” Naomi struggled out from under my grasp, made to open the door for me. I grabbed the small, round silver clutch that I borrowed from Naomi’s extensive department store of a closet. “The car?” I inquired, confused. “He’s not…here?” “No, he told me he’d meet you there. I think he had a late meeting at work, but he didn’t want you to wait, so he said he’d bring the car round to pick you up.” “Oh,” I stated, mildly disappointed I wouldn’t be meeting my date as soon as I’d expected. I pulled a strand of hair back behind my ear. “Okay.” Naomi lifted my chin, smiling. “Don’t worry,” she said with a wink, “you’ll get to meet him soon.” As she closed the door behind me, I looked down to my dress, the closed, round heels. I looked up, surprised to find a man in a suit waiting to open the passenger side door. “Miss? Mr. McMahon expresses his deepest apologies, but he will be running late.” I waved the man off gently. “Oh, it’s no problem at all. Thank you for coming to pick me up.” He gave me a curt nod, opening the door for me. As he shut it, I took the brief second while he went around to the driver’s side to exhale a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Mr. McMahon? Like, Vince McMahon? No fucking way. I was going to kill Naomi.

I spent the entire car ride brainstorming excuses, to no avail. How do you basically reject the most powerful (and richest) man in wrestling entertainment? The car stopped so silently I hadn’t even realized we were no longer moving. My head was still spinning with the revelation that I was going on a (no longer blind) date with Vince McMahon. Doubtless, he probably knew who I was, even if Naomi hadn’t said anything. He was rich. He probably sent someone to find out anything about the girl living in his employee’s house. My heart was racing at the thought of this impending disaster. Because it was going to be a disaster, no question. The door opened, and I found myself taking the hand offered to me. I was at the front doors of the nicest hotel in all Orlando. Following my chaperone, I was relieved as I felt the cool, fresh air in the lobby. The mere seconds from Naomi’s front door to the car, and the few steps from the car to the hotel lobby was enough to make me sweat in the sweltering Florida sun. “Good evening, Miss,” came a voice from the check-in desk. “Mr. McMahon is expecting you.” Holy shit,  I thought. It’s empty in here. The universe decided differently. The elevators to the left of me dinged open and what looked to be hotel guests walked through the lobby conversing amiably, with no regard for the beautiful woman in front of them. The woman at the reception desk stood and asked me to follow her. Oh boy, I thought. She led me past the front of the hotel, down a well-lit, aesthetically pleasing corridor, with windows peering in to the hotel’s various restaurants and gift shops. She stopped at a restaurant that seemed to be closed. It’s windows were tinted black, but you could still see the faint glow of dim, yellow lights from within. A man dressed as a waiter (giving me the impression that he was, in fact, a waiter) opened the door, and I was stunned to find that a soft, mellow piano was playing in the background. “Mr. McMahon has just arrived,” he declared. “I guess that means you’re both here on time.” I grinned at the casual way he spoke. From the moment I’d walked out of Naomi’s house everything felt so off-putting, in a good way. I was starting to feel very important, but I was glad of the down-to-earth manner in which this man spoke. It helped ease my nerves. “Right this way, ma'am.” There were other people in this restaurant, but not many. It seemed this particular dining experience was meant to feel secluded, remote, private. More intimate. The piano sang in my ears, putting me further and further into a feeling of peace. I couldn’t even begin to understand what was going on right now. I just hoped the rest of this night went as smoothly as it had so far. The waiter turned right and led us through a looming archway, and I was shocked to realize it opened up into a small alcove, fairy lights strung across its low ceiling, a round, dark wood table taking up most of the space in the minute interior. And standing, next to the chair nearest the archway, was a man that was /not/ Vince McMahon. He was younger, though still not as young as me. But that didn’t matter, because one look at him was enough to realize I didn’t mind at all how old he was - he was handsome. Not in that devilish way, but in the way that made you want to sit in his lap as he talked about boring work related things that you’d never understand, and yet the way he spoke of it did nothing less to turn you on. He was the kind of man you wanted by your side at a gala, as other, less interesting men tried to make conversation, and you would take one look at him and squeeze his arm and he’d know within seconds that you were bored, and would want nothing more than to leave this charade and fuck him in the back of his private towne car. I surveyed him up and down, amused to find out that I was dressed a bit more formally than he was. I suppressed a giggle at his clean, white sneakers. “A man forgets to change shoes when a beautiful woman is involved.” It took his voice for me to realize I hadn’t spoken since I walked through the archway. I gazed back at his face, finding myself lost in a sweet smile and serious eyes. Or maybe they were lustful. It was hard to say. Still, it was enough to make my core clench with anticipation. “You’re…not…Vince McMahon.” I mentally smacked myself. Nice choice of words, idiot. His chuckle was light hearted, not offended in the least. “No, I’m not. I’m his son. I hope that doesn’t affect your reason for being here.” He reached a hand out to me, asking for my own. As I extended it, he leaned forward and gave it a light kiss. Fuck me, I thought. His hand was just the right amount of rough and gentle, and his lips on my skin ran a shiver through my spine. “Oh, um.” I suddenly realized I should introduce myself. I hoped he didn’t realize that he had me all kinds of flustered. “I’m [Y/N]. And no, it doesn’t affect me at all. The driver said Mr. McMahon was expecting me. I made the only assumption I could conjure up. I really had no idea who I was having dinner with tonight.” Another mental smack. Fucking babbler. “Well, that’s good. It means if I mess this up, it’s my fault alone.” He motioned for me to sit in the chair he held out for me. Very chivalrous. I thanked him with a nod and a smile, and took off my jacket it to place it on the back of my chair. I tried to see if he was staring, but no dice. Though I did catch him looking towards the archway as he fiddled with his watch, trying to hide the bob of his Adam’s apple as he gulped. The waiter appeared again once Shane sat down opposite me, asking what we’d like to drink. “Sweet tea, please.” If he was planning on doing anything, I wanted to be sober. I’d spent too much time already the past few weeks drinking myself into a coma. Shane raised a brow at my less than dull choice, but didn’t say anything. “I’ll take some ginger ale, thank you.” It seemed he was following my lead on this. The waiter bowed, and took his leave, which left just myself and Shane to carry on the dinner conversation. “So, [Y/N], tell me a little bit about yourself.” His eyes remained set on my own. “Oh, well. I’m not from Florida. I’m originally from Detroit. I used to be an editor at a book publishing company, but I was one of the unfortunate few who was laid off a couple weeks ago. It’s been almost two months since my last relationship, and I’m living in my best friend’s house. I like food, I like to read, and unfortunately, I don’t watch wrestling so I have no idea what else we could possibly talk about. Oh, and this dress isn’t even mine.” Idiot. Fucking. Dumbass. Goddamn. Moron. His face remained emotionless for what felt like an eternity. Then, out of the blue, his face cracked into a smile, and he let out a few short chuckles. I sat there, cheeks burning. I was humiliating myself and I wasn’t even trying to do it on purpose. As I sat there, mentally slapping myself another fourteen times and staring down at my hands in my lap, he spoke. “I’m sorry. I apologize sincerely for laughing. You were just so straightforward with me. I’m not used to it. It caught me off guard.” “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have said all that.” “No, no. I asked you to tell me about yourself, and you did just that.” He dipped his head, made sure I was listening. “I appreciate your honesty, and I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all that.” My breath came out as a shudder. I placed my hand on the table, silently hoping he would reach for it. “Thank you.” His hand covered mine, eyes gazing at me in a way I couldn’t describe, but it was doing things to me that I had never felt. My heart, my stomach, my heat, all in agreement. “Do you want to skip dinner?” High risk maneuvers had nothing on me. I laid my cards out on the table. “Look, I know we just met. But there’s something about you, Shane, that’s driving me crazy. And it helps that we’ve hardly spoken a few words to each other and you’re already one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met.” I took a breath, willing myself to go on. “I guess what I’m trying to say is-” “that we can just skip dinner and start with the sex?” He finished. His mouth was shaped into a highly amused and excruciatingly sexy smirk. I was getting wet at the mere sight of it. “Yes,” I replied, breathless, cheeks once again burning, but this time at the thought that maybe, just maybe, he was having the same thought that I was. “Give me one minute.” He stood up and walked through the archway, leaving me alone for a few moments. I grabbed my phone out of my clutch and shot a text to Naomi. Oh my god, Naomi. He’s so hot and so sweet! It didn’t take long for her reply to get back to me. Yes, boo! I knew y'all would hit it off! Another text, in succession. Are you gonna give it up? I bit my lip, doing my best to hide the smile that was dying to appear. As much as I loved Naomi right now, I didn’t want her to know everything that was happening just yet. A lady never tells. 😏 As I hit send, Shane returned, startling me. I dropped my phone back into my clutch and closed it with a decisive click. It wasn’t long before I heard the buzzing, and silently cursed Naomi for how quickly she texted back. Shane raised a brow, but held his hand out for me to take it. “Where are we going?” I asked as I extended my own hand to take his, slightly curious, slightly aroused, and slightly terrified all at once. His grip on my hand was gentle as we walked out of the restaurant, down the hallway towards the nearest elevator. “Upstairs. I get the run of the penthouse whenever I visit.” “Oh,” I replied. “Did you know I was going to ask to skip dinner?” “I had no idea, but I figured you’d want to stay and talk for a while.” “You have that much confidence in your talking ability?” I huffed, trying my best to keep up with him in my heels. He turned his head, took a good long look at me. His eyes roamed my body, no longer worried about being a gentleman. “Absolutely.” The elevator at the end of the hall opened with a ding; two men stepped out, and we took their place. The moment the doors closed behind us, Shane’s lips crushed against mine, tongue slipping through, grazing my teeth. His body ground into mine, his growing erection bumping into my leg. I moved my leg just so, wrapping it about his body, and his member moved just a few inches to grind perfectly against the heat between my thighs. His mouth parted with mine, began kissing at my jaw, then lower, gently suckling at my neck, causing me to hum in ecstasy. His voice was hoarse as his lips continued to ravage my neck. “Mm, you sound so good beneath me. I can’t wait to see what you’re like undressed.” I squealed as he squeezed my ass through the thin fabric of my dress. “Shouldn’t we wait till we’re in the penthouse? The elevator could stop.” “It’s private. It won’t stop till we make it there.” “Oh, well, all right then…” I said, as I unbuckled his belt and dropped my hand down his pants. “Fuck,” he breathed, body pinning me harshly to the wall of the elevator. Part of me was glad when I heard the ding of the elevator once more, signaling the opening of its doors, but Shane was so entranced in kissing me across the skin above my breasts that I had to lightly pat him against the cheek. “Shane? Let’s go.” He groaned, annoyed, but picked me up and brought us into the penthouse. I figured he’d drop me off on the bed, but was surprised to feel the cold marble of the grandest kitchen island I’d ever seen. “Watch your head,” he said, pushing back a toaster to get it out of my way as his pants pooled at his heels. As he pulled his cock out of his briefs, I reached for the zipper at my back, pulling it down. His hands wrapped around mine, helping me. I let out a moan as he squeezed at my breasts, now fully unclothed. His lips ran a trail down my tummy, teasing me as he reached my thighs, dropping my lace black panties to the floor. One hand dropped to rub at my clit, slowly in circles as his teeth bit at my thighs, making me gasp and grip my legs tighter around his head. “Sweetheart, Daddy can’t see your face if you won’t let me move.” His voice vibrated against my thighs, and I released my grip on him, letting out a breathless laugh. So he was a Daddy type of guy. My breath hitched as he slipped his tongue across my slit, thumb still roughly brushing against my nub. He was an expert at this, taking his time as he lapped up every drop of my need, swiftly eating me out in a way that no man had ever done before, driving me wild as I wriggled underneath him. I ran a hand through his silvery hair, content just to feel it beneath my fingers, feeling my need quickly reaching climax. “Daddy…” I breathed, the word easily slipping off my tongue. He was a daddy, all right. He was taking care of me like no man ever had. “Daddy, I’m gonna…” And his tongue slipped out of me, just like that. “Hey!” I pouted, but I had no time to complain as he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me in the direction of the bedroom, his mouth never once leaving my breasts, biting and licking and sucking. My hand reached for the back of his head, fingers entwining in his hair again, deeply enjoying the feeling of his mouth against my skin. It was obvious he was gonna leave dark marks across my breasts, the way he was devouring me. “No, sweetheart, if you’re going to come, it’s gonna be on daddy’s cock,” he growled. The bedroom consisted of three white walls and one wall entirely made of glass, looking out to the streets of Orlando and beyond. There wasn’t a curtain in sight, and I reveled at the thought of someone in a different nearby hotel, glimpsing us in the middle of our lustful sex. Slowly, I descended onto the bed, deciding that once he lowered himself against me I’d flip him over and show him my own dominating side. “In that case, you don’t mind if I-” I looked at him sexily, biting my lip and flipping us over, “ride you instead, do you, daddy?” His hands ghosted under the skirt of my dress, pulling it over me entirely and hurling it away from the bed. Once that was done with, his hands dropped once again to my ass, and he gave it a very liberal squeeze. “Daddy has a dilemma,” he confessed. I fumbled with the buttons of his dress shirt, revealing the silver haired chest underneath. God, what a man. “Daddy wants you to be a good girl but he likes it when you’re bad.” I bit one of my fingers, staring at him intensely, sexily. “That’s okay, I don’t mind being punished.” His eyes darkened at the thought, and he didn’t hesitate to give my ass another squeeze, before he slapped one cheek with his right hand. I yelped at the pain, but all it did was turn me on even more. I rubbed against his cock, begging him to fuck me senseless. As if on cue, he reached behind his head, fumbling for the drawer of the nightstand, bringing out a small square packet. “Hold on for me,” he said roughly, tearing the packet open for the condom inside. I grabbed it, and with one hand around his cock, I slid it on daintily. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he cooed, letting out the loudest groan I’d ever heard from a man’s lips as I slid him straight into my slick. “Oh, God…” I echoed him in response, the fullness of his cock against my walls nearly enough to drive me over the edge, but I gave pause, willing myself to wait for his benefit and my own. Slowly, I moved my hips against his, back and forth, one hand on his silvery chest to keep myself in place. “Oh, sweetheart…” he mumbled lazily, one hand giving the other cheek a slap as the other hand squeezed at my breast, “you look so fucking amazing on top of me…” His words were enough to make me go faster, reveling in his praise. My clit rubbed against base of his shaft, and I let out a moan. It must’ve been enough to drive him crazy as well, because his hands clasped my hips and he was lifting me, egging me on, the push and pull faster and faster, until finally I just couldn’t take it anymore and I was screaming, “Daddy, oh God, oh God, oh God…” It didn’t take long after me for Shane to succumb to his own climax, his hips stuttering beneath me, and I lay my body against him, breasts on his chest, lips whispering dirty thoughts in his ear. “God, you felt so good, daddy, I just wanna keep fucking you all night long, you feel so good inside me…” At last, he mumbled something to me. “What?” I asked, unable to hear him well. “Could you…please…scoot over…sweetheart?” He grunted. I gasped in recognition, sliding off him and planting myself on one elbow next to him. “I’m so sorry!” He took a breath, his face red with exertion, and he looked at me and smiled. “Not your fault, sweetheart. It’s been awhile, and I’m not the man I used to be.” “Really?” I cocked an eyebrow at him, finger trailing his chest absent-mindedly. “Could have fooled me. “That’s nice to hear,” he chuckled. He got off the bed, disposed of the condom, and plopped himself right next to me, one hand on the curve of my waist. “[Y/N]?” he asked gently, eyes waiting to lock onto mine. When I acknowledged him, he continued. “I’m glad we did this.” “Me too,” I nodded, “though I don’t understand why you agreed so easily.” “Well, I could tell you what any other man would say, and that’s that you don’t just turn down a beautiful woman when she asks if you want to have sex.” I laughed. “What else could you tell me?” “I could tell you the truth, which is that while that may have been half of it, the other half is that you were so brutally honest with me earlier that I knew I’d be safe with you.” I eyed him, doubtful. “It’s true!” He defended. “But I really couldn’t say no. Speaking of which, I hope you won’t say no to this.” I waited, anxious to hear what he had to say. “Let me get you a job at WWE.” “What? No, Shane…” I raised my hand, shook my head. “I want to.” He held my hand to his chest. “Please, I know that you’d fit in great.” “I can’t wrestle!” “You don’t have to. There’s a lot that goes on behind the scenes. How’s your imagination? Your writing?” He kissed my hand. “I have a bachelor’s in literature. Does that count for something?” “Perfect. I’ll see if I can’t get you on the creative team.” “Are you serious?” He looked me dead in the eyes. “Absolutely.” “Oh, Shane!” I held my arms out for an embrace. His arms enveloped me, holding me close. I felt a kiss at the top of my head, a hand ruffling my hair. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said softly, “Daddy’s gonna take care of you now.”