#anwar x molly

[royalsunshinehotel]

okay (molly x anwar, cotton candy part 2)

A/N: I am genuinely unsure if I like this or not but at least it's FREE FROM MY DRAFTS.

Molly was determined to suck Anwar’s tongue, she had to get him closer. She dug her nails into him, and he didn’t flinch.

She doesn’t notice how the counter dug into her back. It’s all Anwar.

She’d kissed a fair amount of people in her line of work. It had never been like this. It was like he was everywhere. His warmth, his taste, his smell, all of it hovered over her in a strange fog.

Molly was determined to remain calm, but it just didn’t work. She kept telling herself to step back, and that didn’t work either.

Nothing Is working except for him. Anwar feels the same.

Anwar was trying to remain calm, but it didn't work. He wanted to start small, and he kept telling himself to pull back, even when he began sucking on Molly’s tongue. It was truly a strange sensation to finally be taking what you’d wanted, and still be telling yourself that you need to keep calm.

When he bit into her lower lip, it just gets harder, so he stops. The pinpricks on his skin were getting almost unbearable, and he needed to breathe.

Molly whined as he pulled away, but he didn't go far. She notes some of her lipstick had gotten on his dress shirt, and she focused on the bright color while she took her breath back, he kept stealing it.

Anwar keeps his dark eyes down on her before shouting,“Maxxie, get everyone out!

Molly’s already tugging at his shirt, opening it halfway. Anwar thinks he might die.

“Get fucked!” Maxxie shouts, seeming small from the other room.

“I’m trying!” Anwar shoots right back, and Molly takes a half-step forward, putting her face back into his chest, arms around a large, warm torso.

And in less than a minute, the two of them have scrambled up the stairs. Anwar has Molly pinned against his bedroom door.

“You’ve never gotten head before?” He manages, between hungry bites to Molly’s warm neck.

“I mean one time in college.” She tries, holding back a filthy, pathetic whine. It’s not going to be like that. Not yet anyway.

“Bad?” He asks, letting his hands wander down to her ass, mumbling something to himself.

“He just kind of rushed it to himself.”

Anwar pulls away, keeping either side of Molly’s face in his large hands. He wants to say “That’s stupid,” but he doesn’t

“I can fix that.”

“Bet you can’t.” Molly teases, trying to cling on to any confidence she had painstakingly built for herself.

“You know I can.”

And with four words… it’s gone.

She lets him take her hips and back her into the edge of his bed, flopping down, and wiggling away so Anwar could have room on his own mattress. The room was a little too minimal for her taste, but he’s barely here, she figures.

But the anxiety floods back in. He’s probably had hundreds of people here before her. This is probably a house for hoes. He gets around, and what was she but not his friend, another number.

The fear ekes it’s way to her bones, and he can feel it. Her eyes are shut, she’s got two fistfulls of sheets. That’s not correct, or fun, or what he wanted from her.

Anwar takes a half second to rub his beard against her soft inner leg, making her laugh, of all the things.

Molly yelps, “what are you doing?”

He takes another swipe across her other side, letting her laugh and squirm. “This is supposed to be fun!” He yells pulling back to grab a pillow and wack her with it lightly. It’s supposed to be like this, this is why they’d be so good together. Everything was better with Molly around.

His room certainly felt better with her here, that’s for sure. Anwar takes another swing, and Molly squeaks with laughter.

“Hey, hey hold on.” Molly rests a hand in Anwar’s hair and tugs lightly. He pulls back and rests his chin on her tummy.

“Yes, what?” He’s smiling and Molly’s skin is on fire. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“It’s not the stripper thing, is it?” Molly’s eyes flutter shut, dreading the answer. He’d not admit it- no man ever would- but it was usually a factor.

“Excuse me?” His voice is soft. “Most guys want the stripper, not the person.”

“That’s fucked,” Molly looks so small, like she’s about to fold in on herself. Anwar’s going to bring everything he has. This is his time, he’s not going to let her down.

“I’ve wanted this since the wrap party.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Proceed.” Molly juts her chin up.

“Still don’t think you can do it.” He laughs lightly, before falling back into her mouth, sucking and licking however he wants.

Anwar lets himself enjoy how Molly keeps pushing into his hands, but he feels something odd over her chest.

There’s no way. Anwar wasn’t this lucky. No way, no fucking way.

“Are… are those piercings?” Anwar doesn’t even notice how his voice jumps an octave. Molly notices that every hair on Anwar’s arm is standing on end.

“...Yeah?” It’s such a simple answer, but the word hits Anwar like a lightning bolt. If she changed her mind, he’d be heartbroken, destroyed, insufferable. He’d make it Maxxie’s problem, and that wouldn’t be fun for either of them.

Maxxie was happy and misery hates happiness, the same way happiness hates misery.

But instead of using his words, he just goes after Molly’s bottom lip, moaning when she ground her hips up into his.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking hot.” He mutters into her mouth, and she huffs softly to herself. It’s Anwar may seem cool but he’s a fucking geek, and still she’s underneath him with no desire to leave. He’s the worst, and somehow the best.

But then he pulls back.

“Molly.” She blinks up at him, skin set off by the soft lights in his backyard.

“When I get you off, can I take you on a date?” This triggers a giggle, sending a shock down his spine.

“If you get me off, you can take me on a date.”

“And if I don’t?” He tries, resting his forehead against hers.

“I’ll laugh at you for a solid week for talking about such a big game. Also I want new shoes, to match.” She’d come over in sneakers, a stark contrast from the glittery cocktail dress.

“Deal.”

Molly’s face flashes with an expression Anwar’s not seen before as he lets his hands wander under her hem, and pushes it up to her waist.

She pants, because of course she does. Anwar watches carefully as Molly closes her eyes into his touch. It’s absolutely perfect.

But he’s quickly brought back when he sees...them.

Light blue cotton. They’ve got ruffles on the sides and they’re tiny. Part of him wants to take them off with his teeth, but Molly might want to leave.

“I love these. Did you wear them for me?” He asks, running a finger along the waistband. She twitched under his fingertips. Heat that had been bubbling in Molly’s chest worked it’s way up to her face.

“Be serious.” She stifled a moan on the back of her hand.

“Planning on getting lucky, then?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to take me.”

Anwar plants a soft kiss to her jaw, making it feel like some kind of reward for dressing up

“God you're such a slut for me aren’t you?” Anwar smiles into Molly’s mouth as she starts rocking into his palm, “Soaking through your panties grinding on me.” His words are half muffled, not pulling away from her mouth long enough to get the words out.

“You look so cute and innocent, but you're just begging aren’t you?” Molly’s breath catches. She’d been called a number of things, but innocent and cute were never one of them. Is this really how he saw her?

“I-I can if you want.” Molly opens her eyes, trying to fully take in the person above her. He’s stunning, the pictures in the magazines couldn’t do him justice.

“Go ahead.” He prompts, pulling back to let her breathe. He keeps a hand on her stomach, and rubs a circle.

“P-please.” Molly’s voice shook, she could have passed away right there. The air in the room had long since abandoned her, and if she felt this good from a kiss (or several), how much better could good get?

“Please what?”

“Please, I need your mouth please.”

“Say no more,” Anwar planted a soft kiss on Molly’s covered mound, before directing her legs up, and sliding her underwear down, and tossing it far, far away.

Anwar doesn’t start slow, she’s too far in. He gives her everything he has until her spine is bowed like that stupid orange tree he has in his backyard, that he has yet to give up on.

“These boys can’t suck on you like I do, hm?” He murmurs into her pussy, sending the vibrations up to her heart.

“A-anwar.” She tries.

“You’re gonna be mine now.” It’s not a threat, or a command.

“Okay.”

“I’m gonna make you so happy.” ��It sounds like a promise,’ thought Molly.

“Okay.”

As if to spite himself, he pinched her clit almost spitefully, making Molly’s whole body jump further into him as he lapped. Her grip on his hair tightened, as tears began to collect.

She couldn’t do this to herself, that’s for damn sure.

“F-fuck, Anwar please! I’m close.” She begs, her bejeweled dress digging into her skin.

‘You’ve been so patient,” moaned Anwar, “I won’t let you down.”

He doesn’t.

Her eyes roll, and she tries to focus as her spine becomes a lightning bolt. She wants to cry but it’s too much of a shock. The sensation of being dropped from such a great height had her scared, but Anwar’s iron grip on her hips brought her back.

Molly wasn’t an idiot. She’d heard about this, she’d just never actually done it. Obviously.

She squirmed, shaking as Anwar sucked and lapped and tried to get as close as he could. There’s no closer position than having your face between someone’s legs, but he’ll be damned if he doesn't try.

He waits about a half second, licking up everything she gives to him, and taking in her little moans and twitches. He’s flicking his tongue as Molly’s breathing starts to catch. She yelped when he hooked two fingers into her puffy, wet heat, and it brought her around again. As if it was simple, as if all of this time, it could have been as easy as this.

Her hand is clasped over her mouth, Anwar’s hands digging into her ass. She melts into his mouth, more comfortable this time, completely lost to where she was.

She takes a breath and looks down, shivering when she registers what she’s looking at.

Anwar, his face is totally and completely soaked. It looked like he’d just been swimming. He had a typical, smug, snaggle-toothed grin as the air reached a boiling point

“I’ve never done that before!” She tries, voice cracking as her chest heaved. Her eyes are round and Anwar’s taking this moment to keep it as a ‘happy place’.

“Can you do that again?” Anwar sounds like a kid, absolutely ecstatic.

She simply smacks him on the back of the head, and he laughs. She does too. Molly leans back down with a huff, legs starting to ache in a new, absolutely delicious way.

Anwar looks up for a moment to see her round dark eyes start to close. Her soft hair is around her like a halo, and he smiles to himself.

It’s enough for now.

Anwar set to work licking her clean. She’s trembling and squeaking, but she didn’t push him away.

Anwar’s beard isn’t scratchy enough to have torn up her skin, and he’s thankful for that, she’s blankly staring at the ceiling, catching her breath. She’s absolutely perfect.

He lets his hands roam softly over to her hips.

“Roll over.” She does, Anwar slowly undoes the zipper to the back of her dress and pulls it off.

The zipper left an indent on her skin, he should have thought of that before. Fuck.

Molly lets out a faint shiver as he lets his index finger trace the dent on her spine.

Of course he sees the piercings too, but he can’t let his mind process. If there was going to be another time, he’d play with those however he wanted. In his mind, she’d love it. He’d make sure she would.

Molly’s so soft and warm. He could fall into her and never leave. What the hell had he been waiting for?

But he has to be responsible. He’s going to be the best version of himself, because that’s what she deserves.

So instead of falling back in, Anwar shuffles over to his hamper, and drops her dress inside. He’s still not sure how women wear sequins, they’re too sharp.

He heads to the bathroom next, splashing cold water on his face. Anwar rubs the water over his beard, a little sad that he couldn’t keep Molly on him.

But she’s right there, staring at him, even if he doesn’t see.

She’s looking at his reflection, proud that she had left a mark.

His curly hair was sticking up in every direction, seeming to keep in the shape that her fists had left.

Anwar’s white dress shirt was soaked down the front, making her face get hot again. She did that.

He’s panting. She’d nearly drowned him, of course he was.

Molly raises her head, and squints a little more, seeing several marks on his collarbone. Molly laughs to herself when she sees Anwar puff out his chest, before he runs a hand over his face.

He lets out a groan when he realizes exactly how much he’d neglected himself. It’s a throbbing pain that he would have dealt with earlier if Molly hadn’t needed him.

Anwar takes care of it, not paying attention to his volume. Maybe he will say her name once. Or a few times.

He washes his hands off quickly, as a sad whimper breaks the silence.

Anwar looks in the mirror to see Molly, big cow eyes staring at him in the mirror.

“You could have done that with me.” Her voice is small, close to a pout, and it hits Anwar square in his chest. He would have loved to.

Anwar was planning on taking her again and again . . . and again. But he couldn’t scare her off. He keeps scaring people off, but this was going to be different.

It has to be, or he wouldn’t recover.

“Nah love, you’re spent.” He rolls into bed, moving Molly’s legs, so he could pull the sheets up.

She shifts over to look at him, trying to be tough still, “I am not!” But her voice doesn’t take on it’s usual edge. Ha.

“We can talk later, go to sleep.”

Molly narrows her eyes at him, making his chest flutter. She takes a soft hand and rests it at the side of Anwar’s face.

“I’m gonna make you do that tomorrow. Okay?” She says, barely audible.

“Okay.”

[royalsunshinehotel]

cotton candy (molly x anwar, part 1/?)

A/N: Any OC piece that I post is NOT gonna be in a set story, it's just gonna be snapshots bc I can't plot to save my life. Part ⅓ this has been like 2 months in the making. Molly’s an exotic dancer and Anwar’s an actor. They’ve been pining... song insp.

Molly and Anwar had met about six months before. She had been an exotic dancer someone had hired for the wrap party of his film, “Tiger Eyes.”

Now normally, he’d say he was entranced by her body ( it’s a fucking great body), but she also had some of the best weed he’d ever smoked. She went from “hot dealer” on his phone, but she was one of his friends.

She worked her way into the group quickly, and it was hard to remember what it was like before she got there.

And she’d made him laugh too.

But now it’s six months since she’d bullied Brad Pitt for his hideous shoes, and Molly’s settled on Anwar’s blue leather couch, snacking on some cut watermelon he’d gotten for her. The Golden Globes had been painfully long and James Corden had been just a little too friendly.

Not that Anwar minded much, Molly agreed to go with. Only in a group setting, but she makes things like that feel better.

Now, her long, thin legs are casually stretched across his lap, and he’s thinking about every single horrible thing to keep himself under control. Anwar’s sitting across from all of his favorite people.

The lights are dim in Anwar’s living room. It feels cozy, but his glass doors are open, letting in some cool night air.

Molly’s wearing some sparkly dress she’d snatched from the lost and found bin from one of Taylor Swift's parties. The dress cost more than everything she owned, but she looked better than the original owner, it was deemed worth keeping.

Anwar would agree, not that she asked. He’s pretty sure that there’s a drinking game happening, but he's not paying attention.

Anais, his social media manager, speaks.

“MAXXIE!” She slurs, volume not fitting the room. She’s wobbling even though she’s sitting on a pillow on the hardwood floor. Her drink is half full, and it’s her first.

‘Oh to be a twenty three year old lightweight…’ Anwar thinks to himself.

“God, we’re right here!” The group teases.

“Shut up, let me talk.” Anais smacks Maxxie’s pale leg, “Oh boo!”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” Anais runs her hands through her pink hair before doing a surprisingly coordinated shoulder-shimmy.

“About three hours ago.” Anwar and Molly glance at each other. Thad and Maxxie were insufferable, but tonight’s no different than any other night. At this point, the rocking chair in his living room had become more their chair than it had his. Always draped over each other... ugh.

“At the show?” Asks Molly, before taking another bite of fruit.

“Yeah, baby.” Thad adjusts his grip on his boyfriend, pulling him in for a kiss on the cheek.

“Molly, now you!” Maxxie tosses away the attention to the one person in the room who wanted it the least. It must be strange to be in LA and not want some kind of attention.

“What kind of sex?” Molly asks Anais, flashing a dazzling smile that kept her rent paid.

“Sex with a partner.” The pink-haired lush swishes her drink dramatically. Molly doesn’t breathe.

“Two years.”

Anwar chokes. She stabs another piece of watermelon and pops it into her mouth. He watches from the corner of his eye as she chews, and his work at keeping himself soft fails.

“No one can match my own hands.” ‘I can. I can outdo your hands. I can tie your hands above your head and you can watch me outdo them,’ he thinks.

The room is silent. Molly feels her cheeks go warm, and she’s regretting drinking so much. It’s Anwar’s, she’s never not felt safe here, but this isn’t good.

Anwar notices her legs stiffening under his hands, and he feels a pang in his chest.

“If you don’t wanna drink, you should get on Anwar’s lap. You’re practically there anyway.” Molly’s dark eyes flash over to Anwar for a half second, before she retracts her legs.

“Who wants more snacks?” Molly’s voice takes an edge that Anwar hadn’t heard before. “Maxxie? More popcorn?” The brunette flips her smooth hair over her shoulder and scampers away to the kitchen.

“Yeah,” says Maxxie. The friends in the living room were just … stunned. Maxxie and Thad had been fucking nonstop since they’d met. Molly had been getting . . . nothing. Guilt.

“Go.” He hisses at Anwar, who’s lost in his own head.

“What?”

“Jesus Christ of Fucking Nazareth, go after her!” He hisses, reaching across and smacking the side of Anwar’s head.

“Oh shit.” Anwar stumbles, getting on his feet as the room of his friends faintly cheers. Nothing too wild or loud, the group was ranging between severely stoned and clearly the night was winding down

Molly’s stabbing a pineapple like it owed her money.

Anwar pauses a moment, taking her in. She’s lovely. If he were half the man he wanted to be he would admit he was completely smitten, but he wasn’t, so he wouldn’t.

“Come to judge me?” She snaps, but Anwar doesn’t flinch. He leans against the counter opposite of Molly, keeping his footsteps light.

“Come to apologize on behalf of men. And Anais, don’t put any stock in what she says.”

“I doubt my lack of orgasms can be attributed to a whole species.” The fridge hums in the quiet of the kitchen.

“Wanna find out?” Molly scoffs at him.

“You’re funny.”

“I am, but I still don’t understand.”

“God, you must look so pretty when you cum . . .” Molly twitches, did he just say that? No, it had to be the fact it was late at night. Maybe it’s the fact she’d just come

“How the fuck has no one ever gotten you there?"

She puts the knife down, and licks her fingers clean. Anwar’s face changes for a moment, but he pulls it right back. Hopefully she didn’t notice.

"The guys don't care."

Anwar slowly steps across the kitchen, choosing a spot right by where she’s leaning, no closer than he usually gets to her, but it’s different.

“Trust me I could fix that for you.”

“How?” Anwar’s breath hitches. Molly chooses to ignore how his eyes lit up at her question.

“Tell me more.” She states cooly, resting her hand on his wrist, before turning towards him. Molly keeps one manicured hand on the counter. It’s not because her knees are going to give out from the weight of his stare.

“Where would you even start?” Her tone is teasing, sarcastic, same as usual, but Anwar’s still having an issue keeping up. This can’t be happening, his stomach hasn’t done this many flips since he got his first role.

“Are you serious?”

“You're the one with all the tough talk,” huffs Molly, flipping her dark brown hair off her shoulder.

“I have slept with six people and no one’s done it right. Put up or shut up.” She pokes him in the chest, trying to tease, but it backfires, sending a shock up Molly’s arms.

“Alright,” Anwar laughs lightly before he starts thinking. Molly smiles, but she’s watching intently. Anwar’s a lot smarter than people give him credit for. She likes watching him think.

“How about,” he taps his chin for a moment. Molly rolls her eyes. He always taps his chin before he says something stupid, chaotic.

Anwar’s face changes, and so does the air in the kitchen, starting to buzz. All that’s clear now is the low amber glow and white tile.

“I,” he starts, “would use one hand to hold you up against this counter,” he shifts his tall body blocking Molly against the marble slab. He lowers his face down, not quite touching her ear. Anwar chooses to ignore how her knees buckle.

“The other hand would pull your panties down,” Anwar lets a hand wander down Molly’s thigh, trying his best to ignore the fact that she’s holding her breath.

Bring it home Kharral, tell her everything you want.

“I’d run a finger over your wet pussy until you're gasping for more.”

“Anwar…” Her voice is thin, high pitched, and it takes everything Anwar has not to take a bite out of her thin, warm neck.

“Just like that,” he praises softly. If she were anyone else, he’d have her bent over the kitchen counter. But it’s Molly. For fucks sake, how was this happening?

No, Anwar can’t think about that right now. He needs to focus.

“Bet you’ve got a pretty pussy,” Molly whines, “I’d love to find out.” He’s going to find out, she won’t tell him that yet.

She hums lightly, kicking her legs on the counter.

“Anwar…” Her voice is softer now, desperation creeping in at its edges. She’d hit back, she needs to bite his ears or something. This couldn’t be what she thought it was. He’d just won his first golden globe, and he’s feeling celebratory. That’s it.

‘I could trail kisses down your neck until I’m biting at your pulse,” Anwar lets his sharp nose trace Molly’s hot skin to her pulse. It’s racing and he has to take that as a good sign. Her hands are digging into his wrists, but the gap between their bodies was starting to make them feel cold. Something’s got to give.

Someone has to break first.

“...what else would you do?” she asks, eyes screwed shut, taking in how his beard feels. She thought it might scratch, but it was soft.

How the hell was his beard soft?

Anwar had been trying his best to be a better man. He cut out the drugs, (most of) the drinking, he was getting about 7 hours of sleep each night. Therapy had been working well for him, but the old Anwar did sneak through the cracks occasionally.

This was one of those times.

“I just want your tits in my mouth, until you're screaming and begging for me.” Molly squeaks, he lets his teeth graze just below her ear. He’s not going to win whatever this is.

“I bet you're beautiful when you beg.” He groans into her.

“You're such a brat otherwise...I can fix that.” He knew in his bones that he couldn’t, but it sounded cool to say. Not unlike his entire acceptance speech, it wasn’t planned. Nothing he did was ever planned.

“Maybe I’ll just keep you,” Anwar breaks, just a little, letting his words muffle in the crook of her neck, “sweet little toy for me to come home fuck.” He’d have her spoiled, nice clothes, nice shoes, not having to grind on strangers for money. She’d be clean and could eat whatever she wanted out of his kitchen.

Not that he didn’t respect strippers and their work ethic, but she hated it. She told him as much.

“You’d never be cold, but you could wait for me on the bed, legs spread.” He loses track of his own voice now, Molly’s moved her warm hand to take a fistful of his shirt. She’s not moving, but her grip was strong. She could drag him down to her, if she really wanted.

“You’d take me so well… I just know it.” Anwar lets his hands trace down Molly’s stomach, smirking inwardly at the mental photo. God the way she’d keep him in a vice, suck him right in. It’s almost too much. The sounds she’d make for him. . .

But this game is too fun, Anwar can’t give up now. She’s about to draw blood from his arms.

“You’d beg me for mercy, on the edge of passing out,” she gasps, and the pins in her stomach were getting unbearable. The space between them keeps getting smaller.

Molly feels petrified, and Anwar’s on his last nerve. He can see it clearly in his head.

“I’d have you fucked out and filled up every single time.” Molly’s shivering, clenching her jaw hard. He’s not going to win, except he already has.

“Do you want that?” She nods her head a little too quickly, and it feels like Anwar’s chest was glowing.

“Yeah?” He’s smiling, but she can’t look at him. She just nods again.

“I’d take pictures,” Anwar hums into Molly’s ear, letting her mind wander to the poses he’d shape her into.

“I’ll keep you trapped in my wallet.” Molly’s teeth dig into her lower lip, she could almost draw blood. He could look at the photos at any point. Knowing him, he’d probably put them up in his trailer. For some reason she didn’t mind.

“I don’t think I’d clean you until I had you again.” Molly leans herself forward, pressing into Anwar’s chest. He smells fresh, but still warm. It’s not fair that he smells like this. Molly’s grinding her teeth trying not to grind into him.

She wants to shove her hips against his, just to work him up. She saw a bit of that in one of his movies.

He’s beautiful. Dark curly hair, long sharp nose. He’s absolutely stunning.

“I’d want to watch myself leaking out of you,” Molly squeaks, eyes somehow going even wider and round,”it’s how it’s supposed to be, sweet girl.”

Sweet girl echoes in Molly’s mind, vibrating down her skin.

Molly’s wet. Embarrassingly so. She’d been talking tough this whole night, and her friend had gotten her worked up in a few sentences.

“I’d be at work dreaming about being in between your legs,” Anwar leans slightly back, gently pulling Molly out of his chest, and tilting her chin up, “and you’d be waiting for me.”

There’s a heated glance, and Anwar realizes that he’s been panting just as much as Molly.

He likes having his chin in his hand. Anwar lets himself imagine what the rest of her would feel like.

“I want you. I always have.” He lets his hand trace down her jaw. Molly leaned into his touch and it felt as if tiny stars were bursting in his chest.

“You have to know that. Tell me you know that.” It comes out as more of a desperate whisper, but Anwar doesn’t mind. He lowers his hands and watches her eyes tear up.

“I-I do.” Molly’s voice gets thin as Anwar gets closer, their noses almost brushing. She gets bold and lets her nails off his wrist, to smooth up his arms and rest on his shoulders. Anwar’s vision almost goes spotty.

Molly closes her dark eyes and takes a deep breath. She’s younger without the glitter on, she’s more herself here than she is anywhere else.

“Would you be good for me?”

Molly’s face wrinkles for a half-second, before she flicks open her eyes.

“Make me,” Molly feels Anwar’s shoulders shake under her hands. And they both smile. Real smiles, not the ones made for cameras or clients.

Anwar moves down slowly, softly brushing his lips to hers. It’s sweet, and Molly feels it through her whole body.

His beard tickles. She’d never kissed someone with a beard before. Her former partners all had clean faces, and in that moment she suddenly decided that had all been a massive mistake. Beards are the way to go.

This is it.

[royalsunshinehotel]

Remember me, darling (Molly x Anwar)

It's cotton candy, but edited.

Molly had been an exotic dancer someone had hired for the wrap party of Anwar’s film, “Tiger Eyes.”

Now normally, he’d say he was entranced by her body ( it’s a great body), but she also had some of the best weed he’d ever smoked. She went from “hot dealer” on his phone, but to one of his friends in the blink of an eye.

It was hard to remember what life was like before she got there.

And she’d made him laugh too.

But now it had been six months since she’d bullied Brad Pitt for his hideous shoes, and Molly’s settled on Anwar’s blue leather couch, snacking on some cut watermelon he’d gotten for her. The Golden Globes had been painfully long and James Corden had been too friendly.

Not that Anwar minded, Molly agreed to go with.She made award season feel better.

Now, her long, thin legs were casually stretched across his lap, and he’s thinking every single horrible thing to keep himself under control. Anwar sat across from all of his favorite people.

The lights were dim in Anwar’s living room. It felt cozy, but his glass doors were open, letting in the cool night air.

Molly’s wearing some sparkly dress she’d snatched from the lost and found bin from one of DiCaprio’s parties. The dress cost more than everything she owned, but she looked better than the original owner, Olivia Munn, so she kept it.

He was pretty sure that there’s a drinking game happening, but he's not paying attention.

“MAXXIE!” Anais, his social media manager, speaks, slurred, volume not fitting the room. She was wobbling even though she sat on a pillow on the hardwood floor. Her drink is half full, and it was her first.

‘Oh to be a twenty three year old lightweight…’ Anwar thought to himself.

“Shut up, let me talk.” Anais smacks Maxxie’s pale leg, though no one interrupted.

“When’s the last time you had sex.” Anais did a surprisingly coordinated shoulder-shimmy.

“About three hours ago.” Anwar and Molly glanced at each other. Her friend Thad, and his friend Maxxie, or “Thaxxie” as they were known, were insufferable. At this point, the rocking chair in his living room had become more their chair than it had his. Always draped over each other... ugh.

“At the show?” Asked Molly, before taking another bite of fruit.

“Yeah.” Thad adjusts his grip on his boyfriend, pulling him in for a kiss on the cheek.

“Molly, now you!” Maxxie tosses away the attention to the one person in the room who wanted it the least.

“What kind of sex?” Molly asked Anais, flashing a dazzling smile that kept her rent paid.

“Sex with a partner.” The pink-haired lush swishes her drink dramatically. Molly doesn’t breathe.

“Two years.”

Anwar choked on his gin and tonic. She stabs another piece of watermelon and pops it into her mouth. He watched from the corner of his eye as she chewed, and his work at keeping himself calm failed.

“No one can match my own hands,” said Molly, softly.

‘I can. I can outdo your hands. I can tie your hands above your head and you can watch me outdo them,’ he thought.

Anwar noticed her legs stiffening under his hands, and he felt a pang in his chest.

It’s Anwar’s. Molly had always felt safe here. But the room was painfully silent, and her cheeks were too warm.

“If you don’t wanna drink, you should get on Anwar’s lap. You’re practically there anyway.” Molly’s dark eyes flashed over to Anwar for a half second, before she retracted her legs.

“Who wants more snacks?” Molly’s voice takes an edge that Anwar hadn’t heard before. “Maxxie? More popcorn?”

“Yeah.”

The brunette flips her smooth hair over her shoulder and slinked away to the kitchen.

“Yeah,” says Maxxie. The friends in the living room were stunned. Maxxie and Thad had been fucking nonstop since they’d met. Molly had been getting . . . nothing.

“Go.” He hisses at Anwar, who’s lost in his own head, thinking too many graphic thoughts.

“What?”

“Jesus Christ of Fucking Nazareth, go after her!” Hissed the bleach blonde, reaching across and smacking the side of Anwar’s head.

“Oh shit!” Anwar stumbles, getting on his feet as the room of his friends faintly cheers. Nothing too wild or loud, the group was ranging between severely stoned and clearly the night was winding down

Molly was stabbing a pineapple like it owed her money.

Anwar paused for a moment, taking her in. Lovely. If he were half the man he wanted to be he would admit he was completely smitten, but he wasn’t, so he wouldn’t.

“Come to judge me?” She snapped, but Anwar didn't flinch. He simply leaned against the counter opposite of Molly, watching closely.

“Come to apologize for Anais, don’t put any stock in what she says.”

“I doubt my lack of orgasms are her fault. Or anyone’s fault.” The fridge hums in the quiet of the kitchen.

“Wanna find out?”

“You’re funny.” Molly scoffs at him.

“I am, I just got an award for it.” She put down her knife, but kept her head down.

“God, you must look so pretty when you cum . . .” Molly twitches, did he just say that? “How the fuck has no one ever gotten you there?"

She puts the knife down, and licks her fingers clean. Anwar’s face changes for a moment, but he pulled it right back.

"Guys don't care."

Anwar slowly steps across the kitchen, choosing a spot right by where she’s leaning, no closer than he usually gets to her, “Trust me, I could fix that for you.”

“How?” Anwar’s breath hitches. Molly chose to ignore how his eyes lit up at her question.

“Tell me more.” She states cooly, resting her hand on his wrist, before turning towards him. Molly keeps one manicured hand on the counter. It’s not because her knees were going to give out from the weight of his stare.

“Where would you even start?” Her tone was teasing, sarcastic, same as usual, but Anwar’s still having an issue keeping up. His stomach hadn’t done this many flips since he got his first role.

“Are you serious?”

“You're the one with all the tough talk,” huffed Molly, flipping her dark brown hair off her shoulder. “I have slept with six whole people and no one’s done it right. Put up or shut up.” She teased, poking him in the chest, but it backfired.

“Alright,” Anwar laughs lightly before he starts thinking. Molly smiles, but she’s watching intently. Anwar’s a lot smarter than people give him credit for.

“How about,” he taps his chin for a moment. Molly rolls her eyes. He always taps his chin before he says something dumb.

Anwar’s face changed, and so did the air in the kitchen, everything was starting to buzz in a low, amber glow.

“I,” he starts, “would use one hand to hold you up against this counter,” he shifted, blocking Molly in against the marble slab. He lowers his face down, not quite touching her ear. Her knees buckled.

“The other hand would pull your knickers down,” Anwar let a hand wander down Molly’s thigh, trying his best to ignore the fact that she was holding her breath.

Bring it home Kharral, tell her everything you want.

“I’d run a finger over this wet pussy until you're gasping for more.”

“Anwar…” Her voice is thin, high pitched, and it took everything Anwar had not to take a bite out of her thin, warm neck.

“Just like that,” he praises softly. If she were anyone else, he’d have her bent over the kitchen counter. But it’s Molly.

“Bet you’ve got a pretty pussy,” Molly whines, “I’d love to find out.”This couldn’t be what she thought it was. He’d just won his first golden globe, and he’s feeling celebratory. That’s it.

She hums lightly.

“Anwar…” Her voice felt softer, desperation creeping in at its edges. She wanted to hit back, she needed to bite his ears or something.

‘I could trail kisses down your neck until I’m biting at your pulse,” Anwar’s sharp nose traced Molly’s hot skin to her racing pulse. Her nails dug into his wrists. Something had to give. Someone has to break first.

“...what else would you do?” she asked, eyes screwed shut, taking in how his beard feels. She thought it might scratch, but it was soft.

Anwar had been trying to be a better man. He cut out the drugs, (most of) the drinking, he was getting about 7 hours of sleep each night. Therapy had been working well for him, but the old Anwar did sneak through the cracks occasionally.

This was one of those times.

“I just want your tits in my mouth, until you're screaming and begging for me.” Molly squeaks, his teeth grazed just below her ear.

“I bet you're beautiful when you beg,” He groaned into her,“You're such a fucking brat otherwise...” Molly let a squeak out at that.

“Maybe I’ll just keep you,” Anwar broke, just a little, letting his words muffle in the crook of her neck, “sweet little toy for me to come home fuck.” He’d have her spoiled, nice clothes, nice shoes, not having to grind on strangers for money, like she hated. She told him as much. She’d be clean and could eat whatever she wanted out of his kitchen.

“You’d never be cold, but you could wait for me on the bed, legs spread.” He lost track of his own voice now, Molly moved her warm hand to take a fistful of his shirt. She could have dragged him down to her, if she really wanted.

“You’d take me so well… I just know it.” Anwar let his hands trace down Molly’s stomach, smirking inwardly at the mental photo. She’d keep him in a vice, suck him right in. The sounds she’d make for him. . .

“You’d beg for mercy, on the edge of passing out,” she gasped, and the pins in her stomach were getting unbearable. The space between the two kept getting smaller.

“I’d have you fucked out and filled up every single time.” Molly’s shivered, clenching her jaw hard. Anwar won.

“Do you want that?” She nods her head a little too quickly, and it felt like Anwar’s chest was glowing.

“Yeah?” He’s smiling, but she can’t look at him.

“Yeah.”

“I’d take pictures,” Anwar hums into Molly’s ear. She let her mind wander to the poses he’d shape her into.

“I’ll keep you trapped in my wallet.” Molly’s teeth dig into her lower lip, she could almost draw blood. Knowing him, he’d probably put them up in his trailer. She didn’t mind.

“I don’t think I’d clean you until I had you again.” Molly leans herself forward, pressing into Anwar’s chest. He smells fresh and warm. It’s not fair. Molly was grinding her teeth trying not to grind into him.

It’s not fair- she had to take her power back, work him up just as much as she was. It was too difficult to do when you can barely look at someone.

He’s beautiful. Dark curly hair, long sharp nose. She saw it showcased in one of his movies. He’s absolutely stunning.

“I’d want to watch myself leaking out of you,” Molly squeaked, eyes wide and round,”it’s how it’s supposed to be, sweet girl.”

Sweet girl echoes in Molly’s mind, vibrating down her skin.

“I’d be at work dreaming about being in between your legs,” Anwar leaned slightly back, gently pulling Molly out of his chest, and tilting her chin up, “and you’d be waiting for me.”

There was a heated glance, and Anwar realized that he’d been panting just as much as Molly.

He liked having her chin in his hand. Anwar lets himself imagine what the rest of her would feel like.

“I want you. Tell me you know that.” It comes out as more of a desperate whisper, but Anwar doesn’t mind. He lowers his hands and watches her eyes tear up. Anwar lets his hand trace down her jaw. Molly leaned into his touch, tiny stars bursting in her stomach.

“I-I do.” Molly’s voice gets thin as Anwar gets closer, their noses almost brushing. She got bold and smoothes her hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders. Anwar’s vision almost went spotty.

“Would you be good for me?” He asked. Molly closes her dark eyes and takes a deep breath.

Her face wrinkled for a half-second, before she flicks open her eyes.

“Make me,” Anwar’s shoulders shook under her hands. And they both smiled. Real smiles, not the ones made for cameras or clients.

Anwar moves down slowly, softly brushing his lips to hers. Soft, sweet, and Molly felt it through her whole body.

She’d never kissed someone with a beard before. Her former partners all had clean faces, and in that moment she suddenly decided that had all been a mistake. Beards are the way to go.

This was it.

Molly just wanted to suck Anwar’s tongue. She didn’t notice how hard dug her nails into him, and he didn’t flinch.

She doesn’t notice how the counter dug into her back. It’s all Anwar.

She’d kissed a fair amount of people in her line of work. It had never been like this. It was like he was everywhere. His warmth, his taste, his smell, all of it hovered over her in a fog.

Molly was determined to remain calm, but it just didn’t work. She kept telling herself to step back, and that didn’t work either.

Nothing Is working except for him.

Anwar tried to remain calm, but it didn't work. He kept telling himself to pull back, even though he started this. She probably was just being nice, after all. It was a strange sensation to finally be taking what you’d wanted, and still be telling yourself to slow down.

When he bit into her lower lip, it just got harder, so he stopped. The pinpricks on his skin were getting almost unbearable, and he needed to breathe.

Molly whined as he pulled away, but he didn't go far. Some of her lipstick had gotten on his dress shirt, and she focused on the bright color while she took her breath back. He kept stealing it.

Anwar keeps his dark eyes down on her before shouting,“Maxxie, get everyone out!

Molly’s already tugging at his shirt, opening it halfway. Anwar thought he might die.

“Get fucked!” Maxxie shouted, seeming small from the other room.

“I’m trying!” Anwar shoots right back, and Molly takes a half-step forward, putting her face back into his chest, arms around his large, warm torso.

And in less than a minute, the two of them have scrambled up the stairs. Anwar had Molly pinned against his bedroom door, working their mouths together.

“You’ve never gotten head before?” He manages, between hungry kisses to Molly’s warm neck.

“I mean one time in college.” She tried, holding back a filthy, pathetic whine. It’s wasn’t going to be like that. Not yet anyway.

“Bad?” He asks, letting his hands wander down to her ass, mumbling something to himself.

“He just kind of rushed it to himself.”

Anwar pulls away, keeping either side of Molly’s face in his large hands. He wants to say “That’s stupid,” but he didn’t. He honestly didn’t get why it seemed as if most guys didn’t eat pussy. There was no better feeling than having your partner totally fall apart into your mouth.

‘An absolute waste’ he thought.

“I can fix that.”

“Bet you can’t.” Molly teases, trying to cling on to any confidence.

“You know I can.”

Anwar took her hips and guided her into the edge of his bed. Molly flopped down, and her long dark hair fanned out, making Anwar pause just to look.

He loved looking at her.

But Molly, flat on her back, gave way to the anxiety. He’s probably had hundreds of people here before her. This is probably a house for hoes. He gets around, and what was, not his friend, another number.

The fear makes its way to her bones, and he could feel it. Her eyes are shut, she’s got two fistfulls of sheets. That’s not correct, or fun, or what he wanted from her at all!

Anwar’s brows furrow and he leans down to rub his beard against her soft inner leg.

Molly yelps, “what are you doing?”

He takes another swipe across her other side, getting her to laugh and squirm. “This is supposed to be fun!” He yells pulling back to grab a pillow and wack her with it lightly. If this was a one-time thing, it’s supposed to be happy.

But it was supposed to be like this every day. This wass why they’d be so good together. Everything was better with Molly around.

His room certainly felt better with her here, that’s for sure. Anwar takes another swing with, and Molly squeaked with laughter.

“Hey, hey hold on.” Molly rests a hand in Anwar’s hair and tugs lightly. He pulls back and rests his chin on her tummy.

“Yes, what?” He’s smiling and Molly’s skin is on fire. He knew exactly what he wass doing.

“It’s not the stripper thing, is it?” Molly’s eyes flutter shut, dreading the answer. He’d not admit it- no man ever would- but it was usually a factor.

“Excuse me?” His voice was soft. “Most guys want the stripper, not the person.”

“That’s fucked,” Molly looks so small, like she’s about to fold in on herself.

“I’ve wanted this since the wrap party.” He replied, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.

“Are you kidding?” She squeaked.

“No, I’m not.”

A beat passed as they just looked at each other. Molly broke the silence first, jutting her chin up.

“Proceed. Still don’t think you can do it.” He laughed lightly, before falling back into her mouth, sucking and licking however he wanted.

Anwar enjoyed how Molly kept pushing into his hands, but he felt something odd over her chest.

There’s no way.

Anwar wasn’t this lucky.

No way, no fucking way.

“Are… are those piercings?” Anwar didn’t care how his voice jumped an octave. Every hair on Anwar’s arm stood on end.

“...Yeah?” Such a simple answer, but the word hit Anwar like a lightning bolt. If she changed her mind, he’d be heartbroken, destroyed, insufferable. He’d make it Maxxie’s problem, and that wouldn’t be fun for either of them.

Instead of using his words, he just goes after Molly’s bottom lip, moaning when she ground her hips up into his.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking hot.” He murmured into her mouth. Anwar’s a fucking geek, and still she’s underneath him with no desire to leave. But then he pulls back.

“Molly.” She blinked up at him.

“When I get you off, can I take you on a date?” This earned a giggle, sending a shock down his spine.

“If you get me off, you can take me on a date.”

“And if I don’t?” He rested his forehead against hers.

“I’ll laugh at you for a solid week for talking about such a big game. Also I want new shoes, to match.” She’d come over in sneakers, a stark contrast from the glittery cocktail dress.

“Deal.”

She panted, as Anwar pushed the hem of her dress up to her waist. Anwar watches carefully as Molly closes her eyes into his touch. It’s absolutely perfect.

But he’s quickly brought back when he sees...them.

Light blue cotton. They’ve got ruffles on the sides and they’re tiny. Part of him wants to take them off with his teeth, but Molly might not like that.

“I love these. Planning on getting lucky?” He asked, running a finger along the waistband. She twitched under his fingertips.

She stifled a moan on the back of her hand.

“I’ve been waiting for you to take me.” Heat that had been bubbling in Molly’s chest worked it’s way up to her face.

Anwar plants a soft kiss to her jaw, making it feel like some kind of reward for dressing up

“God you're such a slut for me aren’t you?” Anwar smiles into Molly’s mouth as she starts rocking into his palm, “Soaked through, grinding on me.” His words were half muffled, not pulling away from her mouth long enough.

“You look so cute and sweet, but you're just begging for it aren’t you?” Molly’s breath catches. She’d been called a number of things, but sweet and cute were never one of them.

“I-I can if you want.” Molly opens her eyes, trying to fully take in the person above her.

“Go ahead.” He prompts, pulling back to let her breathe. He keeps a hand on her stomach, and rubs a circle.

“P-please.” Molly’s voice shook, she could have passed away right there. The air in the room had long since abandoned her, and if she felt this good from a kiss (or several), how much better could good get?

“Please what?”

“Please, I need your mouth please.”

“Say no more,” Anwar planted a soft kiss on Molly’s covered mound, before directing her legs up, and sliding her underwear down, and tossing it away.

Anwar didn’t start slow, he never did. He gives her everything he has until her spine is bowed like that orange tree he had in his backyard.

“These boys can’t suck on you like I do, hm?” He murmurs into her pussy, sending the vibrations up to her heart.

“A-anwar.”

“You’re gonna be mine now.” It’s not a threat, or a command.

“Okay.”

“I’m gonna make you so happy.”

‘It sounds like a promise,’ thought Molly.

“Okay.”

He pinched her clit almost spitefully, making Molly’s whole body jump further into him as he lapped. Her grip on his hair tightened, as emotions bubbled up to the surface.

Molly couldn’t do this to herself, that’s for damn sure.

“F-fuck, Anwar please! I’m close.” She squirmed, her bejeweled dress digging into her skin.

‘You’ve been so patient,” moaned Anwar, “I won’t let you down.” And he didn’t.

Her eyes roll, her spine becomes a lightning bolt. She wants to cry but it’s too much of a shock. The sensation of being dropped from such a great height had her scared, but Anwar’s iron grip on her hips brought her back.

Molly wasn’t an idiot. She’d heard about this, she’d just never actually done it. Obviously.

She squirmed, shaking as Anwar sucked and lapped and tried to get as close as he could. One can’t get closer than having your face between someone’s legs, but he’ll be damned if he doesn't try.

Anwar was licking up everything she gave to him, breathing in her little moans and twitches. He was flicking his tongue as Molly’s breathing started to catch. She yelped when he hooked two fingers into her puffy, wet heat, and it brought her around again in two seconds.

As if it was simple, as if all of this time, it could have been as easy as this.

Her hand is clasped over her mouth, Anwar’s hands dug into her ass. The air seemed to be boiling, and everything he did just felt so good.

She melted into his mouth, more comfortable this time, completely lost to where she was.She took a breath and looked down, shivering when she registered what she’s looking at.

Anwar, his face is totally and completely soaked. It looked like he’d just been swimming. He had his typical, smug, snaggle-toothed grin.

“I’ve never done that before!” Molly’s voice cracking as her chest heaved. Her eyes are round and Anwar’s took this moment to keep it in his mind as a ‘happy place’.

“Can you do that again?” Anwar sounded like a kid, absolutely ecstatic.

She simply smacked him on the back of the head, and he laughed. She did too. Molly leans back down with a huff, legs starting to ache in a new, absolutely delicious way.

Anwar looks up for a moment to see her round dark eyes start to close. Her soft hair is around her like a halo, and he smiled to himself.

It’s enough for now.

Anwar set to work licking her clean. She was shaking and squeaking, but she didn’t push him away.

Anwar’s beard isn’t scratchy enough to have torn up her skin, and he’s thankful for that, she’s blankly staring at the ceiling, catching her breath.

She’s absolutely perfect.

“Roll over.” She does, Anwar slowly undoes the zipper to the back of her dress and pulls it off. The zipper had left an indent on her skin, he should have thought of that before. Fuck.

Molly shivered faintly as his index finger traced the dent on her spine.

Of course he sees the piercings too, but he can’t let his mind process.

If there was going to be another time, he’d play with those however he wanted. In his mind, she’d love it. He’d make sure she would.

He could fall into her and never leave. But he has to be responsible. He’s going to be the best version of himself, because that’s what she deserves.

So instead of falling back in, Anwar shuffles over to his hamper, and drops her dress inside. He’s still not sure how women wear sequins, they’re too sharp.

He headed to the bathroom next, splashing cold water on his face. Anwar rubs the water over his beard, a little sad that he couldn’t keep Molly on him.

But she was staring at him through the mirror, feeling oddly proud. Anwar’s white dress shirt was soaked down the front, making her face get hot again. His curly hair was sticking up in every direction, seeming to keep in the shape that her fists had left. He was still panting. She’d nearly drowned him, of course he was.

Molly raised her head, and squinted a little more, seeing several marks on his collarbone. Molly laughs to herself when she sees Anwar puff out his chest.

He lets out a groan when he realizes exactly how much he’d neglected himself. It’s a throbbing pain that he would have dealt with earlier if Molly hadn’t needed him.

Anwar takes care of it, not paying attention to his volume. Maybe he said her name once. Or a few times.

He washed his hands off quickly, as a sad whimper broke the silence. He saw big cow eyes staring at him through the mirror.

“You could have done that with me.” Her voice is small, close to a pout, and it hit Anwar square in his chest. He would have loved to.

Anwar was planning on taking her again. But he couldn’t scare her off. He keeps scaring people off, but this was going to be different.

It has to be, or he wouldn’t recover.

“Nah love, you’re spent.” He rolls into bed, moving Molly’s legs, so he could pull the sheets up over them.

She shifts over to look at him, trying to be tough still, “I am not!” But her voice is too soft and tired.

Ha.

“We can talk later, go to sleep.”

Molly narrowed her eyes at him, making his chest flutter. She took a soft hand and rests it at the side of Anwar’s face.

“I’m gonna make you do that tomorrow. Okay?” She says, barely audible.

“Okay.”