#dark summer wedding

[ourperfectidos]

[lets-go-hurt-someone]

Durge (sighing dramatically like a besotted Victorian debutante): Do you remember our first date? Why don’t you do anything romantic like that for me anymore?

Astarion: Our first date? What, when we had sex in a forest?

Durge: No, our first date, not the first time we had sex. Gods. What do you think of me? I’m not a beast.

Astarion: Darling, we have been trudging through the wilderness since the moment we met. We have literally never been on a date.

Durge: Yes we have! It was on the beach, remember? It was perfect. You were perfect!

Astarion: Do you mean when I held a knife to your throat outside the smouldering ruins of a ship full of eldritch horrors and threatened to kill you?!

Durge (all dreamy smiles and googley-eyed): Yes, it was wonderful. Almost as good as our second date, when you bit me and finally made good on your promise!

Astarion: Absolutely none of that was a—oh gods. Was leaving me behind when the crèche blew up your idea of a proposal?!

Durge: Of course dear, I didn’t want you to think I don’t return your feelings!

[thatacademiawannabe]

An unusual wedding.

[kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon]

Happy Christmas! Here's a GOAD Secret Santa fic: May Wedding

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to @gleafer, my @goodomensafterdark Secret Santa Exchange giftee!

Rated Explicit

~10.5K words

Summary:

Aziraphale is an event planner, Crowley’s a florist's assistant. They meet for the first time just as Shax and Furfur’s wedding is descending into chaos. Luckily Crowley is a dab hand at improvisation, whether it’s finding flowers, rescuing people from unwanted tango dances, or figuring out just how to get the most uptight and exacting event planner in All of England to relax.

CW/Tags:

Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Wedding Planner, Gardener Crowley (Good Omens), Floral Designer Crowley, Event Planner Aziraphale, High stress, Anxiety, Weddings, Wedding Receptions, Blow Jobs, Light Dom/sub, Light restraint, Kissing, Intercrural Sex, Thighs, Groping, Non-Consensual Touching, non-consensual dancing, Christmas Music & Carols, sexy peonies, Sexy cupcakes, sexy almond oil, Sexy secateurs, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Lust at First Sight

Read at the AO3!

[pyechmushy]

It's always funny to see how much of a cursed couple Scott and Jean are, someone give them a break

[alagaisia]

I’m reminded of that post about how goths and people who wear only lots of pink are actually the same because “wearing only one color” is a specific choice in opposition to just looking Normal

I’m flying to a friend’s wedding today, and I recently acquired from my neighborhood free page a very pretty vintage suitcase in like a brocade upholstery texture in all of my good colors, so of course I needed a coordinated airport outfit à la Midge Maisel. You guys don’t know me, but I usually dress very put together, in what my sister calls Outfits, with a capital O to distinguish it from just wearing clothes. And since getting a full time job I’ve been slowly adding to my collection of vintage and 50’s-vibes clothes, because I just really like that aesthetic (my bridesmaid dress for the wedding is a vintage tea dress I got from Etsy. The fabric is in great condition but I had to reinforce pretty much every seam with my sewing machine, because the structural integrity of the original thread was breaking down, so that was an interesting learning experience).

All of which is to say that I Dressed Up for the airport in a vintage-y outfit that coordinates perfectly with some of the colors of my suitcase, and my hair is curled, and I have a vintage leather purse that my grandma gave me that matches her watch that I’m wearing and the shoes she bought me last summer at the same vintage store that my skirt came from, and a teenage-ish girl with whatever you call the 2023 teenage equivalent of emo/punk vibes, like the dark maroon mullet and not a lot of makeup and dark comfy clothes but like, very on purpose, told me I look cool when I walked past on the way to security

And like, she Gets It! We have different fashion goals but I think we put a similar degree of intention into the way we look compared to just wearing regular clothes. Which is cool! It’s validating. Not that I really need validation, but it’s always nice to get compliments, of course. And the way I dress is really not terribly distinctive most of the time, other than being Outfits and a little dressier than maybe the norm is, like I think most people who see me one time in passing would see that I look Nice but not necessarily see it as a cultivated Look. But punk mullet girl gets it.

[lilac-city]

I am having a hard, exhausted time this week and my feet hurt and I wish I had a Livejournal and a walkman. I do not want to be the me who has to do all the things I have to do by Sunday.

[luciensbabbles]

Like many fellow makeup users my opinion on the expiry dates of my products is "it doesn't until it does." I have a foundation I bought in like, 2018 or something that I discovered finally kicked the bucket this morning when I mixed it in with some moisturizer and it all ended up peeling and clumping. It was an expensive one that I wore on special occasions mostly that was 95% finished. Rest in peace sweet prince.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Jace and betrothed unable to wait until their wedding night to have sex??

Request: Jacaerys and his future wife fooling around because they are horny and scared they will die before getting married. I don’t want my boy to die without tasting the greatness of sex

How did this smut piece get to 2.2k words? 😳

Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbating, fingering, p + v, 

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’I’m scared, Jace,’’ you confessed as you stood by the banister of Dragonstone castle, watching as Vermax and Silverwing flew together over the bay. Hopefully Silverwing will lay eggs when you and Jacaerys have children. ‘’The war is getting closer to us. Soon, we’ll have to get on our dragons and battle against the enemy. We…we might die.’’

Death was inevitable during a war. Especially one with dragons, as Rhaenys once said. Team Black had already suffered a couple of losses — Lucerys, Rhaenys, Ser Erryk —, but more would come. 

‘’The thought of what’s coming is terrifying, but we can’t let ourself be paralyzed by the possibility of dying,’’ Jacaerys said, his hand securely on the handle of his sword. He had taken the habit from Daemon, whom he looked up to in certain aspects. 

You looked down at your bare hands on the top of the banister. ‘’I’m not scared of death, I’m scared of dying without ever calling you husband.’’ 

A few weeks before the petition of Driftmark, you and Jacaerys had announced your betrothal. Rhaenyra had a feast in celebration, proud and happy that her eldest son would marry without any politics involved. The wedding should have happened in the summer, but the King fell to his illness and from there unraveled a series of unfortunate events that postponed the wedding.  

‘’When the war ends and I sit on my throne, we’ll have a large celebration in the Red Keep,’’ the Queen had promised.

But you were tired of waiting. 

‘’Every night, as I lay in bed, I think of you and our life if there hadn’t been a war of succession. I would call you husband, my prince husband, and we would not be sleeping in separate beds across the castle. No one would be chaperoning us from afar and we would not get scolded for sharing ‘too long’ kisses.’’

Jacaerys put his hand over yours on the bannister, sharing the same feelings. He wanted to call you his wife and glare at whoever dared speaking wrong to you. He wanted to spend the evening alone in your shared chambers, eating cakes and talking about your day until one of you fell asleep first. He wanted…he wanted to take you to his bed and have a family with you. Not whilst the war was going. He could not deal with the stress of his pregnant wife going to battle on her dragon. 

A few days later, you were sitting in your settee, reading in your nightgown when you heard a light knock on the door. You raised your head from your book, and saw that a piece of parchment had been slipped beneath your door.  

Meet me when the moon is bright. Careful when you take the stairs, Ser Godric is keeping guard.

The message was not signed, but you recognized the handwriting. 

When you judged the moon was bright enough, you slipped a robe over your nightgown and quietly walked down the corridor to take the stairs to Jacaerys’ chambers. You listened carefully for any guards, not wishing to get caught sneaking to you betrothed’s chambers at the hour of the owl. It would make quite the scandal amongst the servants and the staff. 

You knocked delicately on the door and bit your lip as you waited, your stomach bubbling with excitement. Within a few seconds, the door opened and Jacaerys pulled you inside. 

The room was quite dark as the sun was asleep, only the fire of the hearth and a few candles on a table as sources of light. You noticed the small crumpled balls of parchment on the study, assumingly drafts of his message to you. It had to be not too suggestive, but also not too plain that you would not want to come.

‘’I didn't know if you were going to come,’’ Jacaerys said, his lips curved into a shy smile. 

He was wearing just a tunic and wool trousers. It felt strange to see him without his doublet and riding gear. His dark brown hair was messy and his cheeks flushed from what you could make from the light. He looked so different from the usual picture-perfect prince. 

‘’You asked to see me.’’ 

Jacaerys stepped closer. He raised his hand to stroke your cheek, then your hair, which he seemed taken by. ‘’I didn’t know your hair was so long. You always have them up in braids or pins,’’ he said, his tone soft with wonder.

A slight smile tugged at your lips. ‘’What is it that you wanted, Jace? I doubt you summoned me her to talk about my hair.’’ 

‘’I’ve been thinking. About us.’’ He paused for a moment, looking into your eyes. ‘’The Gods have been unfair to us. So let’s not wait for them to bless and unite us.’’

Your brows drew into a light frown. ‘’Jace, what do you—’’ you began, but he stepped closer, his forehead resting against yours. 

He stepped closer, the fire in the hearth reflecting in his eyes. ‘’Do you love me?’’ 

‘’With all my heart,’’ you replied without hesitation, your eyes filled with sincerity. 

‘’Let’s not wait, then. I…I don’t want to waste our time together waiting for this damn war to be over to take you to bed.’’ 

Jacaerys placed his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against him, his grip loose, giving you time to pull from his grasp if you wanted it. But you didn't. 

Instead, you looked up at him and kissed him, closing the remaining space between you. You kissed him like you've done many times before, only this time you didn't have to pull away every twenty seconds to check if a maester, guard or the Queen was around. You’ll never forget the embarrassment you felt that day…

Jacaerys whimpered as you pulled his bottom lip with your teeth, and pressed you against him, desire spreading through his veins, hot like dragonfire. With less layers between your bodies, you could feel the warmth of his chest through your nightgown, and his...little friend stiffening in his trousers.

‘’Someone is excited,’’ you murmured with a giggle as you broke the kiss to plant a trail of kisses down his neck instead. 

He let out a low moan, tightening his grip on your hips. ‘’I cannot control it when you’re around. Especially when you kiss me.’’ Jacaerys captured your lips into another kiss, and tingles caressed your spine and tickled your lower stomach. 

His hands grabbed and pulled at the material of your robe and nightgown, and you rolled your hips, igniting more of his dragonfire. Jacaerys moaned at the contact, louder than he intended. Your own cheeks turned red, realizing you were starting to reach an intimacy you had never breached before.

‘’I’m nervous,’’ you whispered, biting your lip as you thought of getting intimate. 

You placed your hands on Jacaerys’ chest, distracting yourself from your mind. His heart was beating fast, probably just as nervous. 

‘’We don't have to do anything if you don’t feel ready to.’’

You shushed him with a finger to his lips. ‘’I want to.’’ 

To prove yourself, you untied your robe and placed it on the back of the settee, right next to Jacaerys’ sword. The prince's breathing quickened, his dark eyes fixated on your fingers as you unlaced the ties of your nightgown, slowly unraveling the knot. You sucked in a breath as you pulled it down your shoulders, letting it slip down your body until it reached the floor.

Silence greeted your naked body, and you felt shy suddenly. You almost reached for your robe to cover yourself, but your betrothed sensed your uneasiness and stroked your cheek before taking off his tunic and trousers. He found it unfair for you to be naked while he was still clothed.

Once you were even, he guided you backwards towards his bed. The headboard had a large dragon engraved in the stone and seemed a little bigger than yours. The sheets were pale, and over top was a deep red blanket made of velvet to keep warm from the winds coming from the bay.

Jacaerys sat on the edge and, with an expression of fascination, he reached for your breasts. He made sure to be gentle, sliding his thumbs gently over your rapidly hardening nipples. ‘’By the Sevens, you’re beautiful,’’ he marveled, stars in his eyes. 

‘’I can say the same, my prince.’’ You pressed your palm over his chest, smooth and warm.

Jacaerys smiled, that one soft and genuine smile he reserved for you. ‘’I love you,’’ he said, his hands caressing your side in small, gentle circles. 

‘’I love you to— Aah,’’ you whimpered as his hand reached between your legs, stroking your slit clumsily. He didn't know what he was doing, and lacked finesse as he bumped against your clit at random moments, but it still felt amazing. 

He checked on you, wanting to please. ‘’Does that feel good?’’

‘’Yes.’’ 

His fingers were getting slippery from your arousal, making it easier to slide against your cunny. You’ve done it to yourself a few times, alone in your bed. 

‘’Can you put one inside?’’ 

Jacaerys’ fingers were a bit thicker than yours, and longer. 

He nodded. 

A breathy moan left your lips instantly, pleasure sparkling as your walls clenched around his middle finger. 

‘’Like that?’’ Jacaerys slid his finger out, then back in, repeating the motion as you grabbed his shoulder. 

‘’Yes. Again.’’ 

He listened to your needs, almost forgetting his own as his cock remained untouched against his stomach. It was engorged and painful. While one hand was busy pleasuring you, he wrapped his second around his cock and jerked himself. 

 You noticed and thought of helping him, but Jacaerys added a second finger and your knees almost gave out. The feeling was overwhelming, but you craved more. 

You pushed Jacaerys away, and clambered over his lap. His gaze met yours, equally filled with lust. With a nod from your lover, you reached down to grab his cock and lined it at your entrance, sinking down slowly, inch by inch. 

The intensity of the sensation had you gripping at each other, needing to anchor yourself to something. It was unpleasant at first, feeling a pressure and a stinging inside your intimate tunnel. You felt full in a way that was impossible to describe.

Feeling your fingers dig into his skin, Jacaerys kissed your shoulders and neck to sooth you, trying his hardest not to move by fear to blow too soon or hurt you. It was overwhelming for him too — the feeling of your tight walls squeezing him.

You rose up slightly, and then sank back on with tenderness. Jacaerys moaned deeply with you, his head dropping against your collarbone. He closed his eyes, his hands squeezing your hips as you moved up and down again, the pressure around his cock heavenly.  

Your bodies moved together in a rhythm, becoming one. 

When your legs fatigued, you let Jacaerys know and he moved you on the bed and laid you down on the rich velvet. He adjusted himself to the new position, his dark curls falling like curtains around his face as he thrusted into you with long deep strokes.

‘’Kiss me,’’ he demanded.

You complied, winding your arms around his neck and rocking your hips to meet his thrusts until you reached your high with a broken cry. 

Seconds later, Jacaerys pulled out and spilled onto your thighs, not wanting to deal with the consequences of having sex out of wedlock. 

The bed creaked as he collapsed beside you, breathing heavy. As if an invisible string was pulling you to him, you rolled on your side and clung to him, needing to be close after sex. You stayed that way for a long time, relaxing with your head on Jacaerys' bare chest. Your legs felt like jelly, still dizzy from the intense emotions and the overwhelming pleasure. 

You wished you could suspend time and stay there with him forever. But a soft yawn brought you back to reality.

‘’I must leave,’’ you said, feeling the tiredness catching you. It was difficult not to be lured to sleep when you were cuddling under the covers and Jacaerys’s hand was stroking your back gently.

His arms caged around you, protesting. ‘’Stay.’’ He nuzzled into your neck, his voice muffled. ‘’It’s a command from your prince.’’ 

His tone was unserious, but it still made you guilty and sad to leave him. 

‘’I do not wish to leave and sleep in my bed alone, but I must be found in my own chamber when the maids come in the morn.’’ 

Jacaerys sighed, rubbing his face into your hair. ‘’I know,’’ he said, his voice a mixture of resignation and frustration. 

Reluctantly, his arms slowly unwound from around you and you peeled yourself from him, releasing a small hiss when you sat up. The septa had warned you about the pain after breaking your maidenhead. It wasn’t unbearable, only sensitive when you moved. 

‘’I didn't hurt you, didn't I?’’ Jacaerys immediately asked, his eyes filled with concern as he checked on you.

You shook your head and smiled, washing his guilt away. ‘’No. You were perfect, Jace.’’ 

He knew it was untrue. No one was perfect the first time. 

You struggled dressing back into your nightgown and robe, having to fight with Jacaerys’ lips trying to kiss you and his arms pulling you against him. You gave him a last longing kiss before slipping out of his chambers, promising to see him to break fast. 

—

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[ourperfectidos]

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

House Calls

Summary: Aaliyah has an elusive charm that can be alluring to some and frustrating to others. Professor Terry is compelled to have her. On one fateful evening at his cousins bachelor party, he runs into Aaliyah. An interaction he hadn’t imagined would ever happen.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ CONTENT, based off of Players Club, Nasty Talk, Professor!Student. ANGST.

Part Four

The burn in his muscles was a sign that he was pushing his limits, effectively working his muscles, and making the progress he set a goal for. The release of endorphins was a positive feeling Terry felt throughout. The sweat is a dark and growing map down the front of his tank top, turning it from a bright grey toward smokey. His skin is as wet as if he’d just pulled himself from a pool, yet there is no water around, only the dank elite gym he occupied that Thursday morning.

Salty droplets flowed down Terry’s face like soft summer rain, dripping onto the gym floor as he sits to regain his breath. Down his back is a dark stripe amid the light gray colour of his sleeveless top, a spreading map of perspiration. Terry blinked his wet lashes before adjusting his AirPod Pro Max headset over his ears. He’d pushed through his last set and now he needed a shower.

Pushing himself up, Terry gathered his things and headed for the showers. Once there, he found his locker and grabbed all the things he needed for a brisk shower. Within a changing room, he removed the drenched tank top from his upper body and the thigh–hugging black gym shorts on his lower half. Shoes and socks off, Terry secured a towel around his waist and proceeded towards the showers.

Warm water cascaded down his body, rolling between the cut muscles of his abdomen and the contours of his back muscles. Soap suds slicked his copper skin the more he squeezed his body sponge to release more coconut and vanilla scented soap. The soft sponge smoothed down his six pack, past his pubic hair, and down the length of his semi–hard dick.

He finished up after cleansing his face and with the towel around his waist, he headed back to his dressing room. Today he had a French class to teach on campus. Something he’d picked up last minute. Terry checked the time on his Apple Watch after dressing in a pair of khakis with a simple white button down. He decided to take his new baby for a spin: Oxblood Red Dodge Charger.

Inside, Terry checked himself out in the mirror above his driver’s side. His fingers smoothed over his trimmed mustache and goatee, smoothing in the Maracuja Oil and Shea Butter moisturizer he liked to use. His engine roared to life, and Terry rolled off the lot and straight for LSU. It took him ten minutes to arrive and he secured himself a spot within the staff parking lot. Briefcase in hand, Terry switched on his Professor demeanor and headed inside towards his classroom.

When he arrived, students were waiting along the walls and chitchatting. Terry greeted them all before opening the door to give them access. He waited until the last person entered before shutting the door behind them.

“Bonjour, comment va tout le monde ?”

The class responded.

“Est-ce que tout le monde est prêt pour le quiz ?

The students had a quiz every Thursday to test their skills from Tuesday’s practice.

“Très bien. euh... ouvrez les ordinateurs portables qui vous sont assignés et trouvez le quiz sur le tableau de bord. vous avez quinze minutes…”

Terry settled behind his desk and used that opportunity to look over his busy schedule. He had to pick up his tux later for Mike’s wedding. Stylus hovering over his iPad, Friday put a smile on his face. He couldn’t wait. The earth needed to rotate faster on its axis. After the time was up, they went over the answers and fell straight into lecture.

It was the type of heat outside that’s wet and heavy. Terry could feel the water in the air, in his lungs almost. The sensation of sweat trickling down his spine tickled and he reached around to rub the spot with his thumb.

As he was putting away his briefcase, Terry could feel an incoming call buzzing through the pocket of his khakis. He dug his long fingers between the snug fabric and as he retrieved his phone his eyes focused on his mother’s contact. Worry seeped within his pours.

“Mama, everything okay?”

“Hey, TJ. why everytime I call you, you think something is wrong?”

Terry waited until his mother’s laughter died down before speaking, a smirk teasing his full lips, “Last two times you called, it was bad news. And you called me back to back.”

“Well, this time it’s me calling to check on you. Are you at work?”

“I’m leaving. Had a short day today. I’m doin’ good. Been busy, goin’ to pick up my tux right now. How you and Pop?”

“Good, baby. He’s out right now to Home Depot. You know he’s still tryna build that shed, right?”

Terry chuckled, settling into his drivers seat.

“Wish I could help.”

“He’s got some help, some buddies up here.”

“Good thing,” Terry cranked his AC, “Tell him to take it easy now. We don’t need a repeat of last time.”

“I know, I know. I’m keeping an eye on ‘em. I love you, TJ. I’m not gonna hold ya up. Call me when you get settled, okay?”

“I promise I will. Tell the boss I said I love him.”

“Will do, baby.”

——

That Thursday evening, Aaliyah lit some candles in her living room after enjoying a quick meal of seafood boil ramen. It wasn’t the healthiest, but she’d been craving it for a week straight. Curled up on her couch in her birthday suit, she enjoyed a glass of red wine while watching YouTube from her flat screen. It was a video about how a girl hexed her best-friend. The lengths that people go when they’re envious and jealous of others success had Aaliyah tripping.

Buzz Buzz

Aaliyah checked her phone. Terry texted her a photo of himself laid up on the couch with his glasses on and his cat, Orion, curled up in his lap. He looked so cute with his big, toothy grin. She could see his entire upper body, the teasing display of honeyed skin across his neck, shoulders, arms and abs beneath the orange hue of his living room mood lights set something off in Aaliyah.

Oh…to see all of that in person. To press her nose against his chest and drag her tongue over those nipples…count the moles that littered his skin…feel the firmness of his muscles and the softness of his blemish–free skin. She wished she were lying in his lap. Her cheek against his growing erection. Her mouth watering to taste. Ever since she straddled her Professor in his truck, Aaliyah couldn’t stop thinking about him. She couldn’t control the way her clit ached deliciously whenever she recalled the way his thick bulge created the perfect friction on her clit.

His nose pressed against her neck sent chills down her spine. His big arms squeezed her tight and she craved the sensation of being glued to him in such a cramped position. Aaliyah clenched her thighs tightly and bit down hard on her bottom lip to contain herself of moaning. Ignoring the way her pussy throbbed with an insatiable need for him, she replied with heart eyes.

Aaliyah: 😍😍😍

Terry: I miss you

She found herself blushing into her hand.

Aaliyah: I miss you too.

Terry: Can I call you? Been awhile since I heard that cute little voice.

Aaliyah sat up and pondered. She definitely wanted to talk to him, but the wine was shooting straight to her pussy and she knew what calling him would do.

Fuck it! Stop holding off! Get yours…

Aaliyah: Sure 😌

Stomach muscles tight with anxiousness, Aaliyah waited. Terry’s call came through seconds later.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

Aaliyah blushed hard.

“Hi,” She traced her hip with an almond–shaped nail painted a pinky–nude, “How’s my favorite professor?”

“Better now that I’m talking to my favorite student. You doin’ okay?”

“A lot better. You have that effect on me.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.”

“As long as I can put a smile on that face…I hate to see you sad and crying…”

Aaliyah rolled over onto her back on the couch and beamed. The only crying she wanted was from that dick.

“You smiling now, ain’t you?”

“Maybe,” Aaliyah looked up at her ceiling.

“You are. I can hear it in your voice…”

His voice through the phone with its deep baritone and smoothness had such a hold on her. How was it that this man could have such an effect on her every being without even trying? She told herself she would never be this spung off a man again and now look. Giddy.

“Okay, I am…”

“I already knew that, I just wanted you to admit it.”

“Whatever,” Aaliyah rolled her eyes, “Where are you taking me tomorrow?”

“Didn’t I tell you it’s a surprise? You can’t always get your way, baby.”

“It better be worth my while.”

Terry chuckled, “Or what?”

“It’s gonna be a problem.”

“Aaliyah…”

His laughter on the other end of the line prompted her to giggle.

“Aight now, girl…don’t talk tough through the phone.”

“Do what I want and maybe I won’t.”

“Like I said, it’s a surprise. Settle down before I make you.”

“How will you do that exactly?”

“You want me to show you?”

Aaliyah twirled a strand of hair while nibbling on her lip.

“Aaliyah?”

“Show me when?”

“Tonight.”

“Can’t wait until tomorrow?” Aaliyah asked with a laugh.

“I’m afraid I can’t…feelin’ too heavy right now…”

Heavy? Aaliyah clenched her thighs. He was definitely heavy alright.

“Where you feelin’ heavy, Terry?”

He chuckled slightly and then a slight pause followed.

“…This dick you was sittin’ on.”

Aaliyah peeled the phone away from her ear and her eyes rolled shut. That glint in his voice…ooooh…this man…

“Mmm, It was heavy…”

“It is right now…right…now…”

Aaliyah liked where this was going. She placed a nail between her teeth, horniness reaching a fever pitch. Fuck it. She wanted this man. She’d played around for too long. It was time to get acquainted with that fat dick in all the possible ways. In her mouth, in her pussy, in her ass, dragging across her face…

“When I came back home Wednesday…I played with my pussy. That dick had me thinking about how good it’ll feel to stretch me out.”

“Fuck…”

Aaliyah could hear him in the background shuffling. She pictured he was freeing that heavy dick right now, gripping it up tight and swinging it back and forth. Ugh.

“I’ve never felt a print that heavy on me before…”

“Damn shame, baby…that pussy cat tight so I know I gotta fit all of me in there real slow. You like it slow?”

“Mhm,” Aaliyah tweaked her left nipple, “I can feel it all better that way.”

“Me too. Just watch my tip push in…keep them legs open while I sink deeper…”

The heat index in that living room was overwhelmingly high. Aaliyah molded her back into the cushion beneath her and spread her thighs. She could hear her pussy lips spread. A creamy sound. Staring down the valley of her gorgeous body, she rubbed two fingers between her folds to gather all that wetness on her clit.

——

Terry was seated on one of his accent chairs. Shrouded in an orange glow, he lazily twisted his stiffness and occasionally curled his fingers around his hefty sack, rolling it. Pre-cum connected to his briefs and it wouldn’t stop flowing the more that sweet voice in his ear teased him. He needed to bury himself to the fucking hilt deep in her. Fuck a plan for Friday. Terry wanted to fuck her fine ass stupid.

“I like to watch it go in and out…”

Terry grunted.

“I can’t wait to see that stuck look on your face when I put this dick up in you.”

“I bet it’s a pretty dick…”

“I bet that pussy pretty. Pretty pussy and her pretty mama…”

He squeezed the area beneath his tip, pre-cum coating his fingers for more slip.

“That dick in your hand, Terry?”

“Mhm…that tasty pussy out?”

“Yessss…I’m rubbing her right now.”

“How you play wit’ that pussy, baby?”

Aaliyah giggles, “I stroke my clit…then I push my fingers inside…go back and forth until I make myself cum…”

Terry chewed hard on his bottom lip and he closed his eyes to picture Aaliyah on her back and looking up at him with those sultry eyes.

“You know when I get you I’m eating that pussy good…”

“That’s what I want.” She replied with a breathy tone.

“I’m eating it ‘til you cry, baby…”

“Unh…”

“Do that again…make that sound again…”

“…Unh….”

His dick throbbed in his grip.

“When I stick my tongue in it I want you to look at me and moan just like that.”

“Yes, daddy…”

Terry’s hold tightened around his rigid pipe. He’d never been called daddy, but hearing it from Aaliyah, he wanted her to say it again and again.

“I don’t stop…even when that pussy cum…”

The faint sound of her wet pussy in his ear sparked him to pump faster. This was the most he’d beat his dick in a while. That Wednesday evening, while he was taking a long shower, Terry fucked up into his hand, water splashing and the slick soap creating the best sound and texture in the palm of his hand. His cum shot out like a spiderweb. The biggest cum load he’d seen in a long time. All because of her.

“Mm, fuck…”

Mewling and whimpering.

Terry felt the pressure rise from his balls to the tip of his dick in an instant. He was ready to let off a nut.

“Fuck…Aaliyah…I need you on this dick…right fuckin’ now…I hear that pussy talking…keep fingering that pussy…uh-huh…good girl…such a gooooddd girl…”

“Uhhhhnnn—”

“There you go…let it out…let it all out—FUCK—”

“Cum for me, daddy!”

Terry tilted his dick towards his taut abdomen and painted it with his thick cum. The more he stroked, the more the puddle grew.

“Goddamn…”

“I wish I was there to lick it up…”

His dick twitched.

“I bet you don’t miss a drop.”

“I just know it taste good…”

“You think that throat ready for me?”

“As many times I’ve fantasize about sucking that big dick beneath your desk, I’m more than ready.”

Terry couldn’t believe how hard he still was. He scrunched his face up with arousal and he was unable to contain his excitement to finally get a chance to feel that throat. She probably sounded like an angel slurping and sucking on dick. Her soft moans around his tip…that jeweled tongue lining the path his veins created…spit drooling from her greedy mouth while she looked him in the eyes like a good little slut.

“Fuuuck.”

Terry watched in disbelief as another eruption hit him. He didn’t even touch it. Mouth agape, eyes low and sleepy–like, he watched his dick jump and spasm as more cum escaped his slit. He titled his head back and grabbed himself, jerking to empty his balls fully.

“Professor…”

The sound of liquid hitting a surface titillated his ears.

Fuck. She was squirting.

“Aaliyah…fuck, baby…are you squirting?”

“Yes!”

“I can’t wait to get my hands on you…cute ass moans…I just wanna make you cry and cream. Wish I could kiss that pretty girl goodnight, huh, baby?”

“Just as much as I wish I could wrap my lips around that dick. Send me a pic of your cum.”

Terry aimed his camera on his abdomen and snapped a quick photo before sending.

“Holy shit…that’s a lot…so much wasted…”

She sounded mesmerized. Terry loved that.

A text came through from Aaliyah and it was a photo as well. A photo of her fingers and a large wet spot on her bed. That pussy was nice and messy like he liked. Terry loved it extra gushy. If he had to play in it to get it drippy like he wanted it before fucking it he’d do it for as long as he could. He wanted that shit tangled in his pubic hair, painting his dick, and hanging from his balls.

He wanted that shit so sloppy that his dick would thrust with ease. Bonus points if he painted her walls with his cum. Mixed releases making that pussy talk. She would be sick of him. Begging him to stop. All while he continued to drill. Beat it and eat it. Over and over. He had the stamina to prove it.

“Good girl, that’s how you play in that pussy…my tongue is itching for a taste of that sweet shit again…”

“It’ll be all yours tomorrow.”

Terry pouted slightly.

“I’m gonna go…I need another shower.”

“Me too,” He stared down at the cum stains on his skin, “See you in the afternoon. Hope I didn’t keep you from your studies for that test tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry. I studied earlier. I’m ready. I needed this though, it’s been a while…”

“Happy to be of service. Goodnight, beautiful.”

“Nite, handsome. Think of me.”

“I plan on it.”

——

The slim–fit, black button down of his shirt was the first distraction for Aaliyah.

She’d made it to campus early, not dressed in her usual style of relaxed attire. To her defense, it was drastically humid outside. Aaliyah wore a red, flabby skirt with a flannel shirt over a basic white tee. On her feet she had on a pair of low, all white converse. Her sleek hair was pulled back from her face with a black claw clip and situated over her eyes were her squared, black frames.

Aaliyah found an unoccupied table within the study hall near class and used that hour to do a final look–over of her notes. Her leg bounced beneath the desk as time went. After taking a sip of water through her Stanley cup, Aaliyah could hear the sound of dress shoes against vinyl composition tile. She looked up through her lashes and fought the urge to smile when their eyes connected.

Last night flooded her mind again.

And she knew the same had happened to him.

Sexual tension so thick between them.

The tickle at the pit of her stomach caused her thighs to squeeze together tightly. It wasn’t the brightest thing to do, because now her clit was throbbing. Silently urging her to feed into that tingling sensation. Those green eyes could see right through her. Aaliyah allowed others to fill into the room first. Her eyes fell to his retreating back and then her gaze traveled down until she was staring at his ass sitting profoundly within his black slacks.

Distraction number two.

She wanted to sink her nails into it while he fucked her deep.

“Excuse me…”

Aaliyah was blocking the path towards the laptops for their exam. Gathering herself, she made way for the other students to pass.

“As soon as everyone has their assigned laptops, you can get started. You have an hour. After that, you’re free to leave. If you have any questions, simply raise your hand and I will come to you.”

Aaliyah had a ton of questions.

Why is your dick so big?

What position do you want me in first?

Can I ride your face?

In her seat now, Aaliyah opened her laptop and after locating her exam, she dived right in. So far, the multiple choice and short answer questions weren’t too difficult. After selecting B for the 20th question, Aaliyah’s eyes glanced up and Terry was pacing the front of the class. He caught her staring and with a disapproving look, he tilted his head towards her lap top for her to finish. Aaliyah held in a giggle and went back to doing her exam.

So much for breezing through. The closer she got to the finish line, the more challenging the questions became. She re-read the short answer question, eyes flicking to the remaining time. She had ten minutes left and eight questions remaining. That wasn’t enough time to waste. Her hand shot up in the air and Terry headed over towards her. He settled in front of her desk and slightly bowed his head so that he could whisper to her. Aaliyah connected eyes with him.

“Yes, Miss Davenport?” He said with a hushed tone and a stern expression.

Distraction number three.

“I’m confused on this question here…”

Her finger pointed to her screen. Terry blinked his bluish–green eyes away from her distractingly–beautiful face to see exactly which question she was having trouble with. Aaliyah watched his lips move as he silently read the question.

Distraction number four.

“What constitutes the nature of right and wrong?”

He glanced at her.

“It’s not a trick question, Miss Davenport. That’s all I can give you. I’d hurry along…you have seven minutes left and eight questions remaining.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Terry gave her one final look before slipping away, the scent of his cologne remained however. Aaliyah typed in the best answer she could give and then she finished the remaining multiple choice questions to the best of her ability. The exam closed and the subtle sounds of groaning and lip smacking from other students meant that they didn’t have time to finish.

She hoped she did well. Closing her laptop, Aaliyah lifted from her seat to put it away. Terry was talking closely with a student. Aaliyah didn’t want to make it obvious by sticking around, so she grabbed her things and left the room. Out in the hall, she released a sigh of relief, noticing a few classmates huddled around to discuss the exam. Aaliyah sauntered over to hear what they were saying, agreeing about specific questions and happy that others mirrored her choices. Professor Terry exited the lecture hall with his briefcase in hand. Aaliyah watched him turn rightward, signaling to her that he was on his way to his office.

She didn’t have any other plans that afternoon. She waited until everyone dispersed before walking to his office. As she drew closer, the realization of what she was about to do begun to take hold of her body. Her footsteps came to an abrupt halt in front of a commercial wooden door with a privacy glass panel. A metal plaque hung above the window with the words: Professor Richmond’s Office engraved in it.

Aaliyah glanced from one end of the silent hall to the other. She raised a fist and knocked three times. The distant sound of footsteps followed by the jiggling of the door handle caused her breath to hitch. The door creaked open and Terry peeked his head out at her. Aaliyah entered and Terry pulled her around the door so fast her feet were levitating from the floor.

His door shut with a muffled click.

Terry reached down and snatched her school bag from her hand and her cup. He placed her things on a small table before picking her up. Aaliyah gasped, legs being forced around his waist and locking at the ankles. Terry pressed his forehead against hers before pressing his lips into hers. They settled into a fervent kiss, loud smacking followed by soft exhales filling the cluttered office. The distant sound of an old grandfather clock ticking and the occasional car past the tiny window filled her ears.

Terry’s big hands cuffed Aaliyah’s ass through her skirt. The soft almost silky material glided over her skin in the best way. Heads swiveling, tongues moving in a desperate motion, they continued to explore each other’s mouths, never coming up for air. His mouth tasted like kiwis and ginger. His lips were moist and soft. Aaliyah’s hands clung to his shoulders. Terry kept one hand on her ass and then the other smoothed up her slender back.

“Terry…”

Aaliyah unraveled her legs and Terry let her down gently. She peeled away from him to look around his office. She’d never seen the interior of it. How was he moving around such a small space with his big stature? She almost bumped into a pile of books but Terry stopped them from tumbling over with his hands. Aaliyah giggled into her hand, apologizing for her clumsiness.

“How do you get anything done in here?” Aaliyah asked.

“I don’t spend too much time here. There’s years worth of history, that’s how I found this,” Terry presented the little book to her that he carried with him and read passages from during lecture, “A lot of great points on these old pages…”

Aaliyah skimmed through the dusty spines of old texts. Terry watched her with his arms folded behind his back. She looked back at him over her shoulder with a teasing smirk.

“It’s a little stuffy in here,” Aaliyah removed her flannel shirt, “Much better…”

Terry’s eyes scanned her body slowly.

“That skirt is a choice…what made you wear that today?”

He tilted his head at her with a knowing look.

“It’s so hot out…”

Terry hummed. He didn’t take his eyes off of Aaliyah as he rolled up the sleeves to his button down shirt.

“Didn’t stop you from wearing sweat pants and hoodies before, Miss Aaliyah. Who do you think you’re fooling?”

Aaliyah simply giggled.

“C’mere…”

Terry curled a finger, beckoning her over. Aaliyah placed the tip of her tongue between her teeth and with a sinuous grin she slowly approached Terry, never taking her eyes off of him. He stared down at her short frame while leaning against his desk.

“I had a good time on the phone with you last night,” Terry stroked her chin with his thumb, “You’re such a nasty girl…”

His thumb smoothed over her bottom lip. Terry glided his thumb across it, rubbing in her gloss. That same thumb slipped into her mouth and Aaliyah’s lips wrapped around it and started sucking. She sucked hard. Terry cocked his head, watching her with those powerful eyes. His own lips parted and his pink tongue sat in the corner of his lips.

“You want something to suck on?”

Aaliyah nodded her head, batting those pretty lashes at him all innocent. She was far from innocent.

“Show me that tongue…there you go…”

Aaliyah poked her tongue out for him. Terry stroked her tongue, playing with her tongue ring.

“Can’t wait to feel this on my dick…”

He looked so articulate with his glasses but that mouth on him was deliciously freaky. Another box on her list checked off. He can talk you through it.

“Pretty mouth…such a pretty mouth…”

His thumb slipped from between her lips and Aaliyah dropped to her knees instantly. As she went to work, her eyes never left his. The sound of his belt and the zipper was so loud it was almost deafening. Terry lifted his shirt a little higher, revealing cut muscle with a deep v–cut. Aaliyah’s lustrous eyes noticed a vein along his hip leading down. With a final tug of his pants, that dick she’d been dying to see bobbed out.

The two–toned complexion of his pleasure rod was beautiful. Deep veins created a sinful texture along the girth of his shaft. To be fat and long was a blessing. Terry was blessed. Heavy balls sat tight and suckable. That tip was fat and wet from precum. That big dick jumped in her face. Aaliyah’s eyes slowly ascended to meet his. Terry was staring down at her with silent dominance. His musk mixed with whatever soap he’d used to wash with filled her nose and it almost made her eyes roll.

Touching him and feeling the heat of his manhood sparked a deeper appreciation for that heavy dick. Whatever earlier reservations she had about fucking her professor went straight out the window. Aaliyah’s eyes slowly followed the path her fingers took caressing his well–hung dick. There wasn’t much else to say. The expression on her face was enough to tell.

“Go ‘head put that dick in your mouth.” Terry commanded.

His deep voice. Aaliyah whimpered.

“Closed mouths don’t get fed, baby…”

Aaliyah’s eyes remained locked on him and her tongue licked from the base to the tip. Terry’s brows pinched together slightly when her tongue swirled around his tip. He gripped the edge of his desk like he’d do in class, long fingers holding on so tight the veins in his arms and hands bulged. Aaliyah kissed his pink tip lovingly. The tip is her favorite part. Spongy and sensitive. Terry’s bedroom eyes fringed with thick lashes watched with an unblinking stare. His full lips were parted a fraction.

Aaliyah finally wrapped her lips around him and Terry took it upon himself to remove her claw clip. His long, thick fingers threaded through her sleek strands, pulling it into his fist. Aaliyah never took her eyes off of him. She used her hands to push his shirt up further so she could see that six pack. She’d wanted this dick in her mouth since the bachelor party. The way he looked at her like he wanted to devour her. How possessive he became when Darell tried to suck on her finger.

“You suckin’ it like you wanted this dick for a long time…”

“Mhm…”

Aaliyah worked her neck and jaws. He had this look on his face like he couldn’t believe such a sexy bitch was on her knees worshipping his big dick.

“You’re so sexy…oh, fuck, so sexy, baby…suck that dick…good girl…that’s my good little student…”

The slurping sounds grew louder. Spit bubbles and thick saliva trickled down her neck. She didn’t care about the sloppy mess. Neither did he. Aaliyah gripped his muscular thighs and focused all her energy into making him cum with her mouth. She was sucking the dick for her pleasure, not his. After seeing all that cum on him in that photo last night, she’d been feigning to swallow it all. She just knew it tasted good.

“Damn, gorgeous,” Terry gripped his dick and slapped it on Aaliyah’s tongue, “look at that tongue ring…nasty girl…unnhhh…you love the way this dick feel in your mouth, pretty baby?”

“Yes,” Aaliyah puckered her lips for Terry to slap his heft on it.

“I’ve wanted to do this to you for months now…I finally got you on your knees…right where you belong…you’ve teased me for a minute now…you had me ticked off with all that fuckin’ teasing shit…”

Terry forced his dick further down her throat. Aaliyah gagged. She pushed at his thighs and quirked a brow up at him with a smile on her spit–covered lips.

“Open your mouth…”

Aaliyah stuck her tongue out further and presented her throat to him. Terry could see her uvula dangling and the cavity where his dick belonged. He plunged back in with a fist full of Aaliyah’s soft hair.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me…good girl…that’s what you do, hear me? You follow directions…”

Terry picked up the paced and started fucking her throat. Aaliyah felt hot tears prick her eyes. She breathed through her nose and allowed her fine as fuck professor to dig her throat out. He tugged on her hair, his dick falling out her mouth.

“Uhn uh,” Terry pressed his face closer to hers with a dangerous look in his eyes, “Spit on it…more…spit on my shit…good girlllllll…slurp it up…I said slurp it, Aaliyah.”

Aaliyah went to work on that dick, hand between her legs rubbing her clit with her panties to the side. Terry was falling into her trap. She locked eyes and swallowed his nine inches whole and that had him losing his damn mind. He let go of her hair and braced himself on the desk while Aaliyah two–hand stroked with her mouth suckling.

Terry had to remove his glasses.

Those green eyes narrowed and she could see them roll almost to the back of his head. His mouth opened and a punctuated sigh followed by a groan escaped his mouth. His brows raised when she sucked gently on his balls while stroking his dick. To see him come undone had her pussy dripping. She was dripping onto the carpet.

“Aaliyah, FUCK,” he said through clenched teeth, “yeah? You love this dick, huh? Make this dick cum, fuck, don’t stop…ughhhhhhhhhnnnnn…..”

Terry cradled her head as his body seized up. He locked eyes with her, dick throbbing in her throat. Heavy spurts of cum enough to choke on released and she sucked it down happily. The palatable taste was so delicious she wanted more. Aaliyah’s lips popped off his dick and she stood, wiping the corners of her mouth like she’d just enjoyed a meal. Terry didn’t take his eyes off of her. Aaliyah snatched up some tissue to clean off her chin and neck.

“You okay there, Terry?” Aaliyah teased.

Terry exhaled with a shake of his head. Aaliyah cleaned him off as best as she could before putting his still hard dick back in his pants. She patted his bulge before kissing his cheek.

“I’ll leave you to it then, See you tonight—”

Terry grabbed her hand to stop her from walking away. He’d finally found his voice after that killer throat work Aaliyah gave him. He pulled her into him and rammed his tongue in her mouth.

One hand lifted her skirt up. The fingers on his other hand wrapped around the back of her panties and pulled.

Hard.

——

A tearing sound.

Aaliyah gasped.

He’d torn her panties to shreds.

Was he going to fuck her against the desk?

A knock came to the door.

Aaliyah tensed up.

Terry placed a finger to his mouth to shush her.

“Yes?” Terry replied to the knocking.

“Sorry to disturb you, Terry. It’s Jacqueline. I was wondering if you still plan to attend the meeting this afternoon with the advisors?”

Terry picked Aaliyah up and sat her on his office chair. He threw each leg over the arms of the chair. Aaliyah cut her eyes at the door. She could make out the silhouette of Jacqueline beyond the privacy glass.

“I plan to attend, when does it start?” Terry got down on his knees and with both hands he tugged on Aaliyah’s hips roughly, bringing her ass over the edge of the chair.

“In an hour. There will be lunch. It’s in conference room A today…”

The wheels slid across the carpet from Terry positioning Aaliyah with her legs wide open. Her skirt had ridden up and right before his eyes was Aaliyah’s pussy.

“Good…because I’m starving…”

Terry looked into Aaliyah’s eyes with intensity.

“Alright, I’ll see you then.”

Terry waited until her footsteps disappeared. He shot up to his feet, long legs leading him to the door. He checked that it was locked before situating himself on his knees again. Terry needed to take a moment to just…admire it.

Smooth, brown, pink center, wet and creamy. Fat lips with fleshy folds made for sucking. Clit nice and hard. Definitely a pretty pussy.

“I ain’t wanna be rude and tell her to fuck off…damn, Aaliyah…damn…”

Terry used his thumbs to spread her. Aaliyah hid her face against her left knee. Each time he would spread her, you could hear the creamy sound of her entrance. He needed to stop playing with it like that. Aaliyah was losing her damn mind.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Terry licked his lips, “You like the way I call your pussy pretty?”

Aaliyah replied with a, “Uh-huh,” with the back of her pointer finger situated between her lips.

“I love how misty your eyes look right now…you need this pussy ate, don’t you pretty girl?”

“Yes,” Aaliyah replied with her sweet voice laced with lust, “Can you talk to me while you eat it, daddy?”

Terry used one thumb to raise the hood on her clit while his other hand had a firm grasp on the chair to keep it in place. He didn’t need it sliding away while he devoured. Without further ado, Terry’s tongue poked out and flattened against her wide open pussy. He put his face in it with his nose pressed against the top of her pussy.

Aaliyah had to bite down on the back of her hand to stop from crying out. Terry’s tongue felt like a tentacle slithering and wiggling on spots that had her eyes crossing. His lips sucked with light pressure on her clit.

“Terry…Terry…Terry…”

He looked at her and it was the most beautiful thing ever. She couldn’t keep her eyes focused on him. That mouth had her seeing the galaxy. Aaliyah’s breathy moans fueled him to go harder. He placed his arms over her spread thighs to keep them back and focused all his energy into making her cum in his mouth. That fat tongue poked her hole as deep as it could go and his lips suckled her clit. He would alternate between light stokes to flickers.

“You taste so good,” Terry smiled at her before licking her clit again, “So sweet…”

“HUH—”

She had to cover her mouth when he circled her clit with his tongue.

“Keep lookin’ at me like that…watch the way I eat you up…”

Aaliyah could only moan. Whenever she tried to speak, Terry would do something with his tongue and lips and it would shut her up. She did make sure to keep his mouth right where it belonged. She had a hand on his head.

“You just keep creaming on my tongue…”

“Why you taste so fuckin’ good, huh?”

“Keep those pretty eyes on me…”

“You know how much I’ve longed to put my mouth on this?”

“Cum in my mouth, now…”

Thighs quivering, body shaking…

“Fuck, Terry, I’m cummingggggggg,” Aaliyah whispered with a tremble in her voice.

She enclosed his face between her thighs and squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Her mouth dropped open into a silent scream. Soft squeaks leading into tiny whimpers filled his ears. Terry ate her through her orgasm.

When she finally relaxed he gave her soft kisses to her pussy and she dragged her nails through his short curls. Terry peeked up at her and smirked and Aaliyah smiled.

“Kiss me…”

Terry leaned in and Aaliyah swiped her tongue over his lips. Terry parted his lips for her and they tongue kissed.

He broke the kiss, fixing her skirt before standing. Aaliyah stood and her eyes fell to the torn pieces of fabric that was her panties. They both laughed before Terry cleaned it up and tossed it in his briefcase. He’d discard it later, not wanted to leave any evidence behind. Aaliyah took her time fixing her hair in a wall mirror near the door. The scent of her pussy in his mustache caused him to use his fingers to push his upper lip against his nose.

“What time are you picking me up tonight?”

Aaliyah fluffed her hair while looking back at Terry over her shoulder with those eyes he always got lost in. His brown–eyed girl.

“What time are you picking me up?” She asked again

Terry couldn’t help but to lick his lips as he placed his glasses on, “Six. Dinner reservations are at eight–forty–five. It’s in N’awlins. And I was thinking…it’ll probably be best if you pack something light to take with you. Figured it’d be smarter to stay there for the night instead of driving an hour or so back home, ya know?”

Aaliyah settled between his legs and Terry wrapped his arms around her while her arms draped over his shoulders.

“I have plans with some girls on Saturday, Terry…”

“Postpone. With the way I plan on having you, it won’t be a girls night…”

Aaliyah giggled. She pecked his lips a couple times before staring into his eyes.

“Fine. I’ll reschedule.”

“Good,” Terry kissed her neck, “Wear something sexy…with the tallest heel…I love how your legs look when you wear them…”

“Your wish is my command.” Aaliyah whispered against his lips.

She slipped away from him and Terry reached out to pop her on the ass with a bite of his lip. Aaliyah looked back at him with flirty eyes while bending over to retrieve her bag and cup. When she straightened back up. She walked to the door, stopping short to lift her skirt and make her ass clap. She gave him a lick of her lips before leaving him in a daze.

——

Aaliyah flung a few choices on her canopy bed. The sheer, black curtains rubbed against her naked body as she stared between the three choices. A short, black cocktail dress, a form–fitting red dress with a plunging neckline, and a floral summer dress with a high split and her back out. Time was ticking and she still needed to pack her bag. Aaliyah went with the summer dress since she hadn’t worn it yet. She stood in front of her mirror and slipped it on over her skin that glistened from the cocoa radiance body oil she used. It was a sexy dress that would be enough to tease him throughout the night.

Aaliyah packed her bag with an orange bodycon dress, gold sandals to match with accessories, underwear, a satin slip to sleep in, hygiene and hair care needs, some flip flops, a hoodie, and a pair of sweats. Out in her living room, Aaliyah sat on her couch to strap on her stiletto red bottoms. She went for a more glamorous makeup look and a brown lip combo that accentuated her bow–shaped lips.

She’d gone through with canceling her plans for Saturday and it spurred her girls to question her about the man she was spending the weekend with. She didn’t disclose anything to them about Terry, not because he’s her professor, but because she wanted to enjoy him. Her friends didn’t need to know anything right now.

A knock to her door brought her to her feet and Aaliyah peered through her peephole. Terry was standing there dressed in all black with Christian Dior loafers on his feet and a Rolex on his left wrist. He was holding a bouquet of red roses. Aaliyah opened the door and greeted Terry with a megawatt smile and bright eyes. He smiled back at her, opening her storm door to enter her home.

The aura and energy of Aaliyah’s home matched her personality. Seductive and sensual. Low ambience, darker color scheme, the subtle hint of a bitter-sweet floral fragrance. Terry kissed her lips before presenting the roses for her. Aaliyah thanked him and they walked towards her kitchen where she replaced the dying tulips in a vase on her small, dining table with Terry’s roses.

They were on a tight schedule, so Terry led Aaliyah out of her home and down the stairs carefully. His Hellcat with a glossy, beet–red finish awaited them. He opened her door and helped her inside before jogging around to his side. They set off for an hour drive, Terry’s jazz playlist the perfect mood. He couldn’t stop stealing glances at Aaliyah and saying how beautiful she looked. She returned the compliment, saying how handsome he is.

They talked about anything under the moon and laughed at moments. Aaliyah spilled tea and Terry clung onto every word. It definitely helped to keep the long drive going. The thrill of seeing Terry again stirred within her as she listened to him talk. They arrived to their destination, a hotel not far from the restaurant. Bourbon Street was a five minute walk. Terry and Aaliyah entered the spacious hotel lobby. Aaliyah settled next to him at the receptionist desk while he checked them in. Two sleek, black key cards were given to him. They had a room on the third floor.

The hotel had a spooky element to it, reminding Aaliyah of something straight out of the 1800s. The red walls and old–time chandeliers made her feel as if she’d stepped into a Time Machine. They found their room and when they entered, Terry flicked on the lights. They had a king bed with a mirrored wall behind the bed and another full-body mirror near the entrance to the bathroom. There was a standing shower and a double sink as well as a balcony.

Terry checked the time and they had about ten minutes. Leaving the hotel for now, they walked hand in hand, Aaliyah making sure to bring her black clutch with her. After three minutes, they reached their destination. GW Fins was considered a fine dining establishment. Terry opened the door for Aaliyah and with her hand in his, they waltzed up to the hostess. Terry gave his last name and when he was found on the list, the hostess led them past several packed tables until they reached a private booth with candle light.

Settled, they stared at each other, legs touching and their mingled scents lingering. Terry caressed her knee and Aaliyah stroked his Rolex. A waiter sauntered over and filled their glasses with ice cold water. They were too busy eye–fucking each other to notice. The waiter cleared his throat and Terry pulled his gaze away slowly to look up at him. He ordered a Cabernet Sauvignon with carmelized onion tarts and lamb chop bruschetta.

“You look amazing.”

Aaliyah smiled into her glass of wine.

Terry peppered kisses along her neck. Shisha tobacco and intense Bourbon Vanilla flooded her nose from his Smoky cologne. His thumb caressed her knee softly and it had her clit pulsating with need. They ate their appetizers and got drunk off of the expensive wine. When their waiter came around again, Terry ordered their entrees. Some fancy seafood dish Aaliyah couldn’t recall the name of because she was too busy giggling.

“Here’s to more dates together in the near future,” Terry said.

They clinked glasses. Terry eyed her over the rim of his glass while Aaliyah gave him a slight smirk with those beautiful lips.

“Speaking of dates…maybe this is too soon…would you be my plus one to Mike’s wedding?”

Aaliyah blinked at Terry with slight shock.

“Really?” She questioned, not sure if she’d heard him correctly.

“Yeah. I want you to accompany me, Aaliyah.”

She took a sip of her wine.

“…you don’t think they’ll recognize me?”

“…from the bachelor party?”

“Yes…”

Terry’s right brow elevated and he shrugged, “I really don’t care what they think. You’re with me, not them.”

Aaliyah was too stunned by his remark.

“Okay. I’ll be your date.” She agreed.

Aaliyah simmered down her nervousness at being surround by the men that saw her half-naked and his parents who would surely find out that she’s an exotic dancer. Aaliyah drowned out her worries with another heaping glass of red wine. It finally warmed her blood. Her desire for the professor came on heavy and intense like those green eyes of his. Aaliyah propped her elbow on the table and combed her fingers through her hair while staring into his eyes.

Terry looked away and down at his glass while Aaliyah raised his chin for him to focus on her again.

“That drink isn’t going anywhere, Professor.”

She crossed one shapely leg over the other and his eyes were drawn there like a magnet.

“How long before you washed the scent of my pussy off your lips?”

It was the wine. The wine was making her bolder.

Terry scanned the area before responding. He gave her a look that shook her core. The faintest smirk painting his lips.

“As long as I could. But I knew I’d get a taste again.”

“You will…I plan to ride your face.”

Terry laughed. Aaliyah giggled softly before trailing her hand up his thigh and her heeled foot up his leg. Terry’s eyes fell to her heeled foot situated between his legs. With the tips of his fingers, he stroked the top of her exposed foot with a feather–like motion. Aaliyah nibbled on the rim of her glass.

“And I plan to fuck you all over that hotel room.”

That deep voice. That bass. Aaliyah was no more good. Fuck poised, she wanted to hop on that big dick.

“Everywhere, Aaliyah.”

“Good thing I’m on birth control.”

Terry laughed, eyes squinted and smile big and bright. What she really wanted to say was good thing they’re both clean and up to date on screenings like responsible adults because she’d much rather he cream pie her—

“You’re funny…”

“And you’re fine as hell…I can’t help the reckless shit that just comes out of my mouth.”

“You sound so cute when you curse.”

Their food arrived and it was a type of seafood linguine. Unable to finish the rest, Aaliyah slid her plate away and decided to take hers to go since there is a microwave in the hotel room. Terry raised a hand and motioned for the waiter to come over with a slice of chocolate cake and the check.

“The night is still young, think you can hang for a bit before we get back to the hotel?” Aaliyah questioned.

“I’m okay with that, baby. I think you should hit the restroom first after all that wine.” Terry suggested.

Good idea.

Aaliyah slipped away and to the bathroom.

——

Noisy. Raucous. Nocturnal. For many New Orleans visitors, Bourbon Street embodies the life of a party town. The street is lit by neon lights, throbbing with music and decorated by beads and balconies. Bourbon Street has become a place for revelry of all sorts. With its windows and doors flung open to the wandering crowds.

Aaliyah and Terry blended in with the crowd of drunk people. His tight clutch on her hand alerted anyone around them that she belonged to him and it would be best not to try anything. They decided on a bar that played trap music, both of them slipping inside. The red wine had begun to wear off and Terry needed something stiffer. Top shelf bourbon. Aaliyah wanted chilled patron shots. Terry paid cash and they enjoyed their drinks while vibing to the music.

Aaliyah would whine her hips on Terry, rubbing that big booty all over his growing erection. He grabbed her hips and did his own slow grind, catching the attention of patrons that watched with interest. Aaliyah loved to see the wild side of Terry. She made her ass move with quick skill whenever the DJ would put on a bounce mix.

They continued to bar hop, tripping off of people and drinking their fill. In one bar, Aaliyah made Terry her camera man. He recorded videos of her twerking and lifting her dress quickly to reveal nothing underneath. The risk thrilled her and Terry seemed to enjoy it as well. He stole every chance to bend her over a table or a bar so she could rock those hips on him.

Back out on the street, they accepted beads and Terry recorded Aaliyah walking towards him with a model–strut, flashing her titties and jiggling them. He couldn’t wait to suck on those big, brown nipples. Aaliyah complained of her feet hurting, so they stopped inside of a gift shop and Terry purchased a cheap pair of flip flops. He crouched down and took her heels off one–by–one. Terry held them as they walked back to the hotel.

Terry held the door open for Aaliyah and they stumbled over towards the elevators with laughter. On the elevator, Aaliyah pulled her dress down again and Terry pushed her against the wall and bent down to wrap his lips around a hard nipple. He sucked and Aaliyah palmed his erection. The elevator dinged and Terry fixed the front of her dress. He picked Aaliyah up and threw her over his shoulder while he opened the door. The green light flashed and he proceeded inside, placing the do not disturb sign on the outside of the door.

The distant sound of the lively French Quarter could be heard beyond the balcony. Terry flicked on all the lights. He needed that room to be fully bright. Aaliyah kicked off her flip flops. Terry proceed to take off his shirt. Aaliyah looked at him and the realization of what was about to happen washed over her face. She excused herself to the bathroom and Terry gave her space to get situated. Meanwhile, he completely undressed, sinewy body with vigorous muscles and a swole dick on full display.

The door to the restroom opened and Aaliyah walked out, stopping in her tracks when she noticed Terry standing before her fully naked. He approached her and started undressing her with his lips molding into hers. They swapped spit and flicked tongues as the dress slipped down her body and pooled around her feet.

Terry broke their searing kiss to press his forehead against her temple. He stared down at her perky breasts sitting full and round with protruding nipples.

“You’re all mine,” Terry whispered in her ear, his fingers twirling her nipples, “I’m gon’ show you…”

Those big lips of his sucked on her tongue and bottom lip. Aaliyah whimpered into his mouth and thrust her chest forward from Terry tugging on her nipples. The sensation shot straight to her clit.

“Liyah Allure? That’s who I’m getting tonight?”

She felt his dick bounce against her thigh. This man was concrete hard and ready to fuck.

“Yes, daddy…”

They flicked tongues and then Terry abruptly turned Aaliyah around. He arched her over the bed.

“Pop that wet puss…”

Terry’s hand came down on her ass and he gave it a sharp slap. Aaliyah hissed.

“Big ass butt…”

His rough tone stunned her.

Aaliyah grabbed her ankles and started moving that ass. Each time her cheeks spread Terry could see that sweet pink. He stroked himself as he watched her twerk. Aaliyah flipped her hair over and locked eyes with Terry, biting her bottom lip. She eyed the way the vein on the underside of his dick throbbed.

“Mhm, just like that. Do it like that, baby, fuck…”

His body is sculpted to the gods. The muscles in his thighs flexed in conjunction with his abs. Those biceps bulged and it caused the veins in his arms and hands to become more prominent. Honeyed skin so smooth. Heavy balls. Long, thick pipe. This man was on another level of fine.

Aaliyah made her ass clap again.

“I want you right now…”

Aaliyah felt his dick press between her cheeks. Terry brought one hand around to cup her jaw. The other hand reached down between her legs and started rubbing her clit.

“Ooo, Terry…”

He started stoking his dick between her cheeks.

“Big ol’ ass…shit don’t make no sense…pretty titties…you got it all…everything I fuckin’ need…”

“Take what you need…use me…”

“Ooo, use you?” Terry sank two fingers deep inside of her, “you sure you can handle it?”

“I can…can you handle this pussy?”

Terry chuckled, “What you think I’m doing now?”

Aaliyah’s knees buckled.

“…Miss Davenport, keep still…” Terry whispered his command.

“If I don’t?”

Terry shut her up with his thumb on her clit.

“I’ll cuff you.”

Terry’s fingers slipped out and he turned Aaliyah around to face him before thrusting the two fingers that were inside of her into her mouth. Terry gave her an unblinking stare while pushing further and further to the back of her throat. Aaliyah worried her brows and the urge to gag crept up her body.

“Mm–mm, eyes on me.”

She gagged.

“Open up…relax…relax…such a good girl…on your knees.”

Terry watched Aaliyah get on her knees on the bed. He wanted her arched so he could have access to her ass and pussy from the back. Aaliyah grabbed him by the balls and force–fed her throat big dick. Terry dragged his bottom lip into his mouth and hummed his approval.

Gawk gawk gawk gawk…

So rigid and unyielding.

“I knew you were the woman for me. Look how you suckin’ this dick, look…”

Aaliyah could see herself in the mirror on the wall behind the bed. Her body arched with her ass in the air and her lips wrapped around his dick aroused her.

“See that, pretty baby?”

Terry caressed her cheek with his knuckles. Aaliyah never took her eyes off of the mirror.

“Too fine…”

Terry popped her ass. Aaliyah jerked with one hand while sucking.

“Get the balls…mhmmmmm….so nastyyyy….”

Terry had Aaliyah leaking. The way he talked to her alone could make her cum.

Aaliyah popped her lips off, “Big Daddy…” she moaned.

She two–hand jerked him while looking up at him with doe eyes. Eyes that told him she needed him deep inside of her. Terry grunted on repeat, the urge to cum creeping up and up—

“I’M FINNA BUST—”

Aaliyah stuck her tongue out and Terry erupted all over her lips and in her mouth.

With urgency, Terry went to lay down on his back with his head hanging over the end of the bed. He forced Aaliyah to grind on his face. She put her hands on her knees and rolled her hips over his face. Terry sucked, licked, and kissed. He reached up to hold her in place, stilling her movements while he worked his lips and tongue In tandem to make her cum. Aaliyah clung onto her weak knees and her entire body shook.

“TERRRRRYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!”

He didn’t stop. Aaliyah didn’t know whether to crawl away from his lethal mouth or stay still. This man knew her body better than any man she’d been with.

“Umph,” Aaliyah whimpered, “You’re making me cum…I’m cumming again…whew, fuck…oh shit!”

Terry gripped her waist to keep her on his face. Aaliyah intertwined her fingers with his while riding out her orgasm. When the tremble in her legs surpassed, Terry came to the surface with a moist face. Aaliyah lunged at him and Terry caught her, lifting her up.

He curled one arm beneath her left knee and with his other hand he rubbed the tip of his dick between her folds.

“Let me hear that sound I like…mmm…so wet…I love it messy, baby…enough for me to slide right in you…”

Aaliyah had never been fucked in this position. She was a little afraid. Terry sensed her nervousness and peppered kissed along her neck.

“Terry, it’s big…”

Aaliyah held onto him tightly. Heart pounding against his chest. He tried to settle her with a deep kiss. With the perfect distraction, Terry was finally able to feel her snug walls around his dick.

He pushed up into her and Aaliyah’s mouth dropped open. A desperate moan against his lips with her nails digging into the skin of his shoulders was her initial reaction. That pussy, however, needed to be opened up.

——

“Relax for me, Aaliyah…where’s that big girl energy?”

Terry dropped her down and Aaliyah almost cut off his circulation with how much she squeezed him. Both arms curled beneath her knees now, Terry turned sideways in the full–length mirror and pounded up into her while bringing her down to meet his thrusts.

Aaliyah buried her face into his neck. Terry started off slow. He watched the way his dick disappeared then reappeared. Astonished wasn’t even the word.

“Look, baby…”

Aaliyah didn’t have the strength to look. She was buried with big dick and it was grazing her spot.

“I know, I know…”

Terry quickened his pace. Aaliyah could feel everything.

“Oh my god…” she whispered.

Terry palmed her ass and thrust up into her while keeping her stationary. Aaliyah’s toes curled under and she felt herself slipping. Terry crouched slightly to hike her up.

Aaliyah stares into his eyes while clinging onto him.

“Aaliyah…I’m going faster…you ready?”

Terry started pounding and Aaliyah cried out.

“Fuck…you gotta keep still…fuck this pussy is so good…been waitin’ to get in this pussy…”

“Uhm!!!! SHIT!”

She couldn’t believe how wet she was.

She couldn’t believe she was going to squ—

Terry was forced out from the sudden release of liquid. He slapped her clit to release more and then he rubbed it back and forth. His dick had a mixture of cream and wetness all over it.

Placing her on the bed, Terry arched Aaliyah’s back.

“With the way you put that ass in the air…you know how I want you.”

Aaliyah looked back at Terry. He looked her in the eyes and smirked at her. He sank right inside of her from behind. Terry caressed her ass and smoothed his hands down her back. Aaliyah wouldn’t keep still.

“What did I say? If you move, I cuff you…”

He’d been waiting to get up in her and put that dick on her something serious and she couldn’t follow directions? Terry was irritated. He slipped out and went to grab the cuffs. Aaliyah watched him return and secure her wrists.

“Can’t run now…I told you I’m getting in this pussy…”

He thrust in and Aaliyah could feel him in her belly.

“Big ass dick!”

“This big dick got you creamy, baby…”

Aaliyah’s muffled cries into the sheets were drowned out by the incessant clapping her ass was doing. Terry put a power behind his strokes that had her feeling it from the tippy–tip to the base. Direct thrusts and keeping the same stroke. This man went from lecturing her about the evolution of morality to talking her through it.

"Look at me while I fucking use you."

The sex was too good. Sex so good Aaliyah’s flustered and embarrassed from all the incoherent nonsense she was mumbling. Quite literally, she can't stop herself from burying her face in the pillow to hide how much she’s blushing and moaning.

Terry has her trapped with an iron hand.

She can’t focus on watching herself getting fucked. But Terry had other plans.

He grabbed Aaliyah buy the cuffs with one hand and his other hand wrapped around her throat from the front.

“I said watch the way I fuckin’ use you.” He barked out.

She could see the way her ass moved like a tidal wave. Terry trapped her with his eyes and as tears rolled down hers from how good and intense it felt he didn’t stop. He stayed on her spot.

“Shit yankin’ this dick…this good pussy and you think I’m not gon’ fuck you the way you deserve?”

Terry pressed his face against her ear and went…harder.

The clapping echoed.

He pressed his face into her hair and groaned when Aaliyah’s walls convulsed around him. She erupted so intensely that she had no control over her body. Terry took off the cuffs and massaged her wrists while kissing her temple.

Aaliyah gasped when he slipped out.

She couldn’t believe it. He was still HARD.

Terry went to lay on his back and he pulled Aaliyah close. She rested her head against his shoulder while He stroked her arm.

“Did you like it when I cuffed you?” Terry asked.

“I did. I liked it more than I thought I would.” Aaliyah smiled.

“Aaliyah…”

She looked up at him. Terry met her gaze.

“I really like you…and I want to take you on more dates and be serious about courting you. Is that okay?”

“…I really like you too, Professor. We can’t go public with this…At least not yet.”

“Definitely. You don’t have much longer to graduate, only a little less than two months…”

“I’d love to go on more dates with you and get to know you more…”

Aaliyah traced Terry’s nipple. With her cheeks pressed against his chest, she stared down at that beautiful dick.

“Are you tired yet?” Aaliyah questioned.

She sat up to stare down at him.

“I want you to fuck me more…”

“How you want it this time?”

Aaliyah trailed her hand down to grip him.

“I want my legs over your shoulders…I’m used to this dick now. I like the way it kisses the back of my pussy. Makes me cum each and every time…think you can do that for me?”

Terry sat up and Aaliyah crawled beneath him. He situated himself above her, holding himself up in a push–up position.

“We didn’t use a condom…”

Aaliyah realized that.

“If I cum in you…” Terry warned.

“Then paint me….”

Aaliyah brought her ankles over Terry’s shoulders. He lined himself up and with his eyes never leaving hers, he pushed deeper, her pussy enveloping him again. Aaliyah’s eyes shut and she extended her neck, releasing a longing sigh of joy.

“Yes…yesssss…yeeeesssssssahhhh…”

She loved it. Terry put his fists into the bed and went faster. They both watched his dick bury her over and over.

“Damn, Aaliyah…shit so…fuckin’…good…”

He punctuated his thrusts with his words.

Terry gave her nipples some more attention with his teeth and lips while his hips snapped into hers. The more he fucked, the more his big dick glided.

“Gettin’ that dick in you nice and easy now…this what I like…and you thought I wouldn’t fit…look at you now…taking it all…”

“Yea, Big Daddy, I love this dick,” Aaliyah moaned

They kissed. A deep kiss that had Terry’s hips coming to a complete stop. He was still deep inside of her, but those lips were a distraction. Terry’s lips slipped away and Aaliyah got lost in his green eyes while he fucked her. She nibbled on her lip and studied the way his handsome face crumbled with defeat.

“You wanna cum? Cum all over me with that big dick…”

“Ughhh–uhhhh–mmmmm—”

Faster.

“D–don’t st–top! Fuck your p–pussy!!!!”

“Aaliyah!”

Terry pulled out and pumped, thick, milky–white cum that painted her pussy lips, stomach, and titties.

“Mmm,” Aaliyah gathered some on her fingers and dragged it over her tongue while looking him in the eyes.

“Nasty girl…”

Aaliyah smiled at him before bringing her feet down to rest on his chest. Terry grabbed her feet and kissed her insteps, causing her to giggle.

He couldn’t wait to give her more dick.

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @uzumaki-rebellion @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @hotgrlcece @blackerthings @deja-r @helloncrocs @hearteyes-for-killmonger @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @madamzola @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter @dashhoney25

[prompt-heaven]

the ultimate list of AUs, kinks and tropes to inspire you for kinktober 

some of these are darker in nature since that is fitting for the spooky season. 

AUs

academic / teacher / professor / tutor 

addams family

babysitter / nanny

bartender

biker

bodyguard

bonnie and clyde

bounty hunter

boxer 

camp counselor

circus / carnival

cult 

demon / angel

fairytale retelling

fantasy 

farmer

firefighter

guardian angel 

historical 

hybrid

mafia / mob 

magic 

maid / butler 

mechanic 

modern 

monster / mythology / supernatural

paranormal investigator 

pirate / mermaid

post-apocalyptic

priest

prison

rockstar 

royalty

serial killer

sex worker / porn / camgirl/boy / stripper 

slasher

soulmate

spy / secret agent

steampunk / cyber punk

sugar daddy

tattoo artist 

time travel

treasure hunter 

vampire

werewolf 

wild west

TROPES

a/b/o

against a wall 

age gap

amnesia / memory loss

anonymous sex

balcony sex

boss x employee 

brothers best friend / dad’s best friend (dbf)

car sex

cheating

clothed sex

comforting sex

coworkers to lovers

cursed / fuck or die / sex pollen

dark / soft!dark

enemies to lovers

exes to lovers

fake relationship

forbidden romance

friends to lovers

friends with benefits

game gone wrong

hate sex / make-up sex

huddle for warmth

just the tip

library sex

loss of virginity

mirror sex

neighbours to lovers 

only one bed

opposites attract

period sex

pool / hot tub sex

predator / prey

professor x student

public / semi-public sex

revenge sex

reverse harem

romantic sex

roommates to lovers

rough sex

seduction

sex in an alley

sex in exchange for a favour

sex while camping

shower / bath sex

stalker

stepcest

table sex

unrequited love

yandere

KINKS

aftercare

anal 

begging

being recorded / taking pictures

body worship

dom / sub / bondage / bdsm / shibari

breath play / choking

cheating

cockwarming

corruption kink 

costumes / uniforms

creampie / breeding / forced breeding

cuckolding

cum in panties

cumplay

cunnilingus / face sitting / rimming / blowjob / deep throating / gagging

dacryphillia

dirty talk / voice kink

double penetration / double penetration in one hole 

dry humping / thigh riding 

dubcon / noncon / cnc / drugging

dumbification

exhibitionism / voyeurism

fingering

fisting

flashing 

food play 

footjob 

forced orgasm

formal wear 

free use

glory hole

glove kink 

hand kink

handjob 

hole inspection

humiliation / degradation

hunter / prey

impact play / spanking / whipping / hair pulling / pain kink

jealousy / sharing / possessive

knife kink / gun kink

lingerie / stockings / socks

massage

masturbation / caught masturbating / mutual masturbation

medical kink

monsterfucking / tentacles

multiple orgasms

orgasm denial / overstimulation / edging

threesome / orgy / gangbang

partner swap 

pegging

piercings

pillow humping

praise kink 

premature ejaculation / cuming untouched

pussyjob

roleplay

role reversal

ruined orgasm / cuming without permission

sensory deprivation 

sexting / phone sex 

facial / swallowing / bukakke

size kink / size difference / belly bulge

skirt stays on

somnophilia / getting fucked to sleep

spit kink

squirting

stripping / lap dance

teasing 

temperature play

thigh fucking

throat training

titty fucking

toys / object insertion 

OTHER PROMPTS

a ritual gone wrong 

a string of unexplained deaths

a summer fling gone horrible wrong, or right

alian abduction 

art come to life

basement wife 

being paralysed 

blackmail 

caught trespassing on private property

college party gone wrong

crazy ex

curiosity killed the cat

fate worse than death

final girl

getting stranded in a little town that’s not as wholesome as it seems

ghostface

halloween party

haunted house / abandoned house 

haunted object 

hitch-hiking gone wrong

hot neighbour that has an obsession with you

i was sent here to assassinate you but now i think i might be in love with you

Items moving and/or going missing

i’ll find you in every universe / century

kidnapping

lost in a maze

mad scientist 

magical healing 

marriage / wedding / arranged marriage/ forced marriage 

mind control / telepathy

mirrors playing tricks on the mind

oh, you had a long day? use me as your personal sex toy in order to unwind

oops, i summoned a demon 

oops, i’m dating a serial killer

playing games (like seven minutes in heaven, spin the bottle, hide and seek, etc.) but they have a slutty/dark twist to them

possession (ghost or demon)

power outage

ritual / sacrifice / blood magic

road trip

secret room

serial killers fucking in front of hostages

stalker landlord

stalker wearing the same costume as your partner 

stockholm syndrome

the return of a villain thought dead

torture

toxic frat boy

waking up from strange dreams and seeing bruises and marks on your skin that correspond exactly with the dream you just woke from

we’re the last people on the planet and you will be mine

you wake up strapped to a table just as a fuck machine is turned on

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Creations Dance

Danny likes to dance in the night sky while flying in his new ghostly form which is very ethereal holding glimpses of different parts of space and creations unknown, this continues even after he moves to Gotham.

The sky around him becomes his stage,

A stage that matches him and follows his lead.

Gotham has never had such clear skies, able to see each and every star shining brightly.

Twinkling in many colours almost seeming to dance alongside Danny,

Sharing his joy in their existence.

~

Duke had seen the new phenomenon that was Gotham's skies, who hadn't it was all he would hear people talking around him anytime he left the house, speaking of which were also discussing the same.

Bruce, Tim, and Barbara all researching to see what had caused the change, their bet so far was on magic but not sure who or what was causing it or the reason why.

He had seen the others also poking around seeing if they could find a lead.

But the most curious of all being Jason's new demeanor, ever since the night skies had changed he seemed to calm down almost seeming peaceful.

Which don't get him wrong was a great thing to happen but the timing of it all was too weird, honestly even Bruce was tense about the sudden turn around in demeanor.

So with everyone else occupied he decided he might as well go and enjoy the night sky, it was a very amazing view to miss out on.

He had discovered a new spot a bit far from home but it was quiet and private and would make the perfect spot to stargaze comfortably without being interrupted.

~

He had fallen asleep accidentally but something had woken him up.

He noticed that it was cold, cold enough that he could just barely see his breath in the air in front of him which should not be possible since it was almost summer, had Mr.Freeze escaped?

Looking around now alert he caught a flash of something up above his head.

Looking up he saw..light and darkness and so many things that his mind couldn't comprehend rather less describe.

His eyes shifted trying to make out what he was seeing, in the center was a being..dancing?

The being seemed to feel his eyes on them because in the next moment they turned to stare at him.

He could feel the weight of their eyes on him their entire presence focused around him radiating power and joy.

Continuing to stare at each other the only thing Duke could think of was,

"You're gorgeous.."

Duke snapped back realizing he had said that out loud his face warming, but the being in front of him seemed delighted.

"Thank you! I'm surprised you're able to see me."

"It's hard not to, you were dancing so happily I could feel it in my chest."

They-he? floated closer

"If you liked my dancing so much you could continue to visit me here to see."

" If you're okay with it then I would really like that, my name is Duke."

"It's a date then Duke! You can call me Danny."

~

God what was he going to tell the others? He found the cause for the change in Gotham but Danny seemed to be good, not a villain.

Well he'll keep it a secret for a while more right now he had to prepare for his date!

~

Duke sees Danny dancing around in the sky: "We'll have a winter wedding."

~

Duke seeing the Bats stressing and losing sleep trying to figure what's going on: "Should I say something? Hm nah."

~

Danny Dancing around in the sky while Duke is in the background being a supporting bf cheering him on with pom poms: "That's my boyfriend woo~!"

~

The bats for some reason arguing about each other's past relationships and crushes

Steph pointing at Dick: You're the one with the strangest taste seriously out of everyone in this family Duke and I are the only ones with normal taste! Right Duke!"

Duke " My Boyfriend is a Being/Ancient Ghost of Space That Most of the Time Doesn't Look Human/Humanoid" Thomas: * face sweating while he tries to sneak out of the room* "Umm..*voice crack* y-yeah."

~

I really enjoyed writing this one, I don't see a lot of Duke/Danny, but the works I've read are all so wonderful ♡

~

Just an Idea

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 4 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

there is a mild noncon scene in this chapter. read at your own risk or skip past it.

word count: 5.2k

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In that strange place between waking and sleep- that's where you currently existed. You made a home there, wading through the waters of confusion as the events of last night came flooding back to you. At first none of it felt real. It was all a dream. . . it had to be. 

But there was a foreign warmth beside you and something heavy weighing down on your chest, and while your limbs were numb with sleep you could still register that it wasn’t you. Not your arm. 

Not your warmth. 

So you opened your eyes and joined the land of the living once more. 

The mornings on Caladan were lovely. Light filtered through your curtains regardless of the frequent overcast, the sprawling farmlands vibrant and oh so alive all around you. Your childhood home was all blue-grays and greens. The halls smelled briney- slightly citrus during the spring and summer months. The air was always humid, despite the chill; moisture clinging to your skin and clothes. 

Feyd’s room was slate gray and black, slightly bigger than the one you had been sleeping in since your arrival on Giedi Prime. The air was acrid, the scent of iron so heavy in the air that it almost tasted sweet on your tongue. It was on your palate now, nearly causing you to gag when you took in a deep, steadying breath. 

You had wanted to go home the second you stepped foot on the industrial planet, if only because you despised change. You wanted your family, your horses, your ocean-side view. Now, looking back at how childish your home-sick reasonings were, you couldn’t help but feel naive. 

Not one, but many, had conspired against you. They had hopes that their pale prince would cut his losses and grow bored of you, but took it upon themselves to rid their hallowed halls of your presence. Anger began strumming through your veins, begging for release. 

You did not let the feeling take shape. Acting on hate alone would be your undoing, you knew that. Yes, you were not as strong as some of Geidi Primes weakest warriors, but you made up for it with your. . . inherited gifts. 

Your hand flew to your neck, hissing when your fingertips made contact with the tender skin. You groaned, your larynx screaming at protest. Did this mean. . . 

No. 

No, no, no.

You sat upright in bed, Feyd groaning as his arm was flung off of your chest due to your haste. Unable to process the reality that he had been touching you so casually, you instead focused on the fact that the noise you had just emitted sounded choppy. Garbled. Useless.

“My voice,” You started, eyes widening to the size of saucers as the words reached your ears. It was exactly as you feared. “I can’t use it.” 

You could barely speak normally, let alone be able to manipulate the Voice. How long would it take your throat to heal? A few days? A week? A month? It had only taken two days for a few of the Baron’s men to plan out their attack. Who knew when they would try to strike again? You were a sitting duck and you refused to die like this. 

“You won’t need it.” Feyd’s deep voice sounded beside you, the sheets rustling as his muscled body rolled over on the plush bed. 

You tried in vain not to be distracted by his naked chest- by the planes of perfectly toned abs and the swell of his biceps as he stretched them above his head. It was gross to be attracted to him; disgusting, really. 

Even in the light of day- if you could even call the murky gray that came in through the blinds light- the shadows seemed to pool around the bloodthirsty man. He wore them like a second skin. Had become them and learned to wield them at will. 

His face was once again spotless, no blood to be found on him from last night's activities. He had been utterly soaked just a few hours ago. It had dripped down his sword arm, his nightshirt clinging to his chest and shoulders. . . and he had washed it all away down the drain like the lives he had taken meant nothing. 

And it probably didn’t mean a damn thing to a man like him. Someone so used to reaping souls and shattering lives. 

Your chest swelled as you turned to face him, scooting as far back on the bed as you possibly could. When you had fallen asleep he was lounging on the couch. He must have slipped into bed once you were asleep, outwardly lying about the fact that he would put distance between the two of you. 

“I am not safe here.” You spat out, your broken voice still dripping with venom. 

He seemed bored, as if your worries were unfounded. “I will cleave the heads off of anyone that even looks in your direction.” He said simply. Not a threat but a crimson stained promise.

Gone was the starry eyed girl who saw nothing wrong with the galaxy. Your innocence had been stripped from you the second that the man’s hands had found their way around your throat. Your body finally seemed to register pain now that you were fully awake. Your back felt like hell- a purple bruise no doubt marring your skin where it had connected with the heavy dresser. And your cheek? You brushed your fingers over that spot next. It felt hot under your touch. 

“I can protect myself.” That was a lie. You could taste the horribly constructed fib on the tip of your tongue and it was bitter. Impossible to stomach. 

Feyd sat up on his elbows then, looking over your face. His eyes hardened on your cheek, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth when his eyes started to dip lower. How was it possible that anyone expected you to ever grow used to his presence? His eyes on you felt like a hot brand. You attempted to flinch away from him as his hand reached out for your neck, but he touched you anyway. 

“I should have savored that kill. Taken my time.” His voice was still gravely from sleep, but the anger was clear on his face. 

Seeing you like this, for whatever reason, enraged him. You didn’t want to know why. . . at least you told yourself that. A man like Feyd couldn’t possibly care for anyone and you doubted that he would ever be capable of such an emotion. 

“Do you truly take joy in murdering others?” You couldn’t understand him. There was no common ground between the two of you. He was a complete mystery to you. 

They hadn’t even been your deaths, and yet here you were, feeling torn about all of the blood that had been shed. Feyd had killed seven men last night. Were you really worth all of that? 

“I’m culling the herd,” He sat up then, his eyes sparking with a sick sense of delight that had your stomach roiling. This sounded like the ramblings of a madman.“They were weak, body and mind. Disobedient soldiers should always be purged. They were a disease, and I treated them as such.” The corner of his lip tugged up into a small smirk, as if he was reliving the moment that his blade cleaved through flesh and bone. 

“You went overboard on my behalf.” They would hate you more now. Those guards no doubt had loved ones, all of whom would be gunning for you now. 

“Would you rather I left them all alive? Given them a small slap on the wrist?” He was leaning in now, as if being closer to you would give him a better understanding of where you were coming from. 

The sheets wrapped around your limbs, acting like restraints as you tried to back away from him and his intimidating presence. You couldn’t help but feel as though he was sizing you up, questioning whether he could swallow you up in one bite. His eyes, lidded with sleep and hazy with something you couldn’t quite discern told you that he would eat very, very slowly. Your fingers twitched at your sides, his eyes narrowing as though he could smell your fear in the air that the both of you now shared due to your close proximity.

“No,” You hated that you were agreeing with him. “They would have found another way to kill me. I just hate that you had to make such a show of it all.” I hate that I couldn’t kill them myself. 

Who were you to decide if someone lived or died for their crimes? And yet. . . you were glad that they were dead. You couldn’t find it within yourself to feel sorry for them. They got exactly what they deserve, so why did you feel so awful about it? 

Because the “old” you would have begged for their lives to be spared. That sweet, innocent girl would have abhorred the blood and gore, which begged the question: who did that make you now? Has this place truly changed you so intrinsically in a matter of days? You hated the idea that you were adjusting to the environment. It terrified you.

Feyd could see the anger churning behind your wide eyes, no matter how hard you tried to mask it. You were beautiful like this, so accepting of his nature. . . and yet you still fought him. Still fought this. He adored you for it. Loved you for it. There it was again- that word. He let the phrase sink into his bones, settle inside of his chest. 

‘I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. 

Look at what I can do for you. Let me kill again for you. Let me prove my worth. Let me have you. Let me taste you. Let me devour you until there is nothing left.’ 

He was so close now that the heat and smell of him was clouding your mind. Much like the smog outside, he was poisoning the air around you. The sheets tightened around your legs as you tried to kick them off of you, hellbent on escaping the bed and dressing for the day. You were starving, sore, and in desperate need of another hot bath. You still felt dirty after last night, like the stains hadn’t been completely washed away. 

He was looking at you with those eyes. God, his eyes. . . they were blue, bottomless pits and you were sinking. . . drowning. You found it hard to breathe while he was looking at you like that. He was assessing you with a heated gaze that unwillingly set your insides ablaze. His hands were suddenly on the sides of your upper thighs, the insides of his wrists brushing against them. You could feel skin against skin, your thin nightdress doing nothing to shield you from his touch. 

“You wanted them dead, I can tell.” And he smiled at that, a genuine one full of misplaced mirth. 

“I don’t want anyone to die.” Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, so heavy that you suddenly found it hard to speak. 

“I didn’t take you for a liar, little Atreides.” His head tilted to the side as he licked his lips. He was so close to you that his tongue nearly brushed against your parted lips. 

And then he was pulling away, his warmth being ripped away from you far too quickly. Feyd left you on the bed as he sauntered over to his closet, unabashed of his half naked body- almost as though he was proud to show it off to you. His broad shoulders, toned back- it was well earned. It was the body of a warrior- of a killer. 

You had to remind yourself that he was a murderer, tearing your eyes from him. It was almost as though you couldn’t get enough oxygen. Your lungs ached as you realized that he had practically siphoned it out of the room with his commanding presence. 

He terrified you down to your very core. It was as though he was seeing your soul for what it truly was. . . 

And it was as black as his own.

The Na-Baron’s hand against the small of your back felt more like a collar than anything. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was how you appeared to others now, like nothing more than a pet. It was a silent show of ownership, as were his hardened eyes as he turned his head to glare at each and every guard that passed in the hall. Their familiar uniform had your knees buckling and your hands shaking. He must have felt those tremors, for his fingers tangled themselves into the fabric of your shirt, like he could anchor you to him. ‘You’re safe with me,’ the gesture seemed to say. 

The floor had been wiped clean of last night's massacre and it was almost as if it had never happened at all. You wished that you could delude yourself into believing that it hadn’t, but your aching bones were a constant reminder. An Atreides did not belong here. 

The distance that you craved was not something that Feyd seemed keen on granting. When you had finished bathing earlier, your skin scrubbed raw, you had found him lounging back against the bed, eyes trained on the bathroom door. His presence was stifling, as were the halls of this strange empire. They appeared to be tightening around you, reminding you of your lack of freedom. 

A canary in a gilded cage. 

“I’ve been filled in on the events of last night,” The Baron said as a way of greeting when the two of you found your way into the dining room. “You had your fun it seemed, nephew.” He didn’t sound angry, which was good you supposed. Then again, he didn’t sound very approving either. 

Feyd paused for a split second in the doorway, his lips pursing in confusion. You recalled him saying that the Baron always ate his meals in his own quarters. Your throat bobbed as Feyd’s hands urged you further into the room. Suddenly you were no longer hungry. Like a child, you wished that you could dig your heels in and refuse to make your way any further inside. While his nephew scared and confused you, Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was an absolute waking nightmare. From his pale, unattractive face to his plump, gluttonous build- even his eyes seemed completely void of any light. Your quivering worsened because you knew, even if Feyd wanted to keep you alive for whatever reason, that he would not disobey his beloved uncle. You would never expect that of him. If the Harkonnen wanted you dead. . . then so it shall be. 

“It was very enjoyable.” Feyd said simply, sitting down in the chair directly beside you. 

The Baron, at his spot at the head of the table, felt miles away. He was assessing the two of you, his gaze bouncing from your form and then to that of his nephew. It wasn’t until Feyd placed his arm over the back of your chair that he finally smiled. It looked more like a sneer than anything else, and all at once you wished to punch those teeth right out of his skull. His ill treatment of your father would never be forgotten, forced marriage or not. 

“You two look. . . close.” He concluded, folding his hands in his lap as he sat back. His dark robes hugged all of the wrong places- he was greed in the flesh. 

Feyd didn’t say anything, but he did lean in closer. It occurred to you that he was acting almost like a shield between you and his uncle. All at once your shaking stopped, your eyes flickering up to meet his face for the briefest of moments before you finally looked down at your plate. Again, the food did not appeal to your appetite. There were no fresh fruits or vegetables. Everything was brown, beige and white. The meals here were void of any color or variety and you found it fitting. 

“We slept together last night, as it should have been from the very beginning.” Feyd said, no room for arguments. His tone was final- absolute, even in the face of the one person that he answered directly to. 

Your cheeks were suddenly blazing hot as you realized how easily his statement could be misunderstood. Your lips parted, as though you could defend yourself and set the record straight, but the Baron was already nodding. He didn’t care either way. You were sent here to procreate, afterall. What the two of you did or didn’t do meant nothing to him. As the daughter of Duke Atreides you were nothing more than a pawn- a bargaining piece at best. Your blood boiled as you stabbed your fork into whatever meat had been served. It was all you could do not to brandish the small serrated blade that laid beside your plate and shove it through one of Vladimir’s overly assessing eyes. 

“I just thought that she might have wanted her own space before the ceremony,” He started, gesturing towards you. It was as though you weren’t even in the room at all. “But I’ll make sure that her things are brought to your room.” 

You did want your own space. Desperately. This whole situation felt wrong, and yet you were helpless. A few more days in your own room was nothing, really. Not when the two of you would be sharing a room for the remainder of your lives. 

“It’s our room.” Feyd corrected, using his free hand so that he could take a sip of his drink. 

His arm brushed against the back of your neck as he leaned forward ever-so-slightly so that he could place the cup back down on the table. The brush of his skin against yours sent a chill down your spine. 

“Very well. Your shared room.” And the Baron seemed pleased.

The cogs started turning in your head as you stared at that expression on his face. Was that gloating that you sensed?

He looked as though he had won. 

It would make no sense at all for the Baron to be so concerned with the status of your relationship, and yet there he had been, smiling as if he had bested you. Did he know something that you didn’t? It would be dangerous to voice the thoughts that you were having- unwise. Feyd was sure to take his uncle’s side on everything. At the end of the day you were little more than a warm, wet hole to breed. . . right? 

Your skin crawled, your breathing growing more and more shallow as the seconds passed. What would your mother do if she was put in a situation like this? The urge to talk to her was stifling, and yet you were here alone. You had no allies here. You had been left to your own devices. 

“You aren’t going to beg me to train with you today?” Feyd asked from the open door of the bathroom. 

He’d left it wide open while he changed, as if he was daring you to gawk and stare. You were too busy panicking to even care that he could very well be naked mere feet away from where you sat on the bed. The Baron was guilty of something, that you knew with certainty. You bit down onto your lower lip, staring blankly ahead at the wall as you became more and more consumed by your frightening thoughts. 

“What are you thinking about, little one?” His voice was right beside your ear and you jumped back, staring wide eyed at where he was kneeling before you. 

He stared up at you expectantly, waiting for you to tell him what currently had you so quiet. His uncle had been unusual at breakfast, more so than Feyd was used to. The Baron was a busy man, and the last thing on his agenda was to eat with his nephew and his bride-to-be. He was cautious, and yet he didn’t want you to know. He would handle your safety from now on, even if that meant going against those that shared the very blood that pumped through his own veins. 

The expression on your face had him leaning closer. You were so meek. . . so fearful. The need to protect you was overwhelming. How could someone ever want to hurt you? His eyes flickered over your bruises for the one hundredth time that afternoon, rage settling like lead in the pit of his stomach. 

“I’m thinking. . .” You started, eyes becoming glassy. “That I was sent here to die.” 

Feyd, for the first time in his life, felt helpless. He did not know how to calm you down. The man didn’t know the first thing about comforting someone, but the thought of leaving you to your own devices and panic had a gasp escaping his throat. 

“Do you not believe me when I say that I will protect you? Have I not proved myself?” Actions spoke louder than words, or at least Feyd had always believed that, and yet you didn’t seem to understand what he was trying to say. His actions weren’t enough. 

“You’re protecting me because you have to. I understand that well enough, but that doesn’t mean that something won’t happen. You are the enemy Feyd. My enemy.” You spoke with so much conviction and looked at him like you hadn’t just gutted him. 

Feyd felt as though you had physically slapped him across the face. The chase was fun, but this. . . this wasn’t you acting hard to get. This was you drawing a very clear line in the sand. You didn’t like him and perhaps never would. And maybe it made Feyd even more despicable than anyone ever thought possible, but part of him did not care. You could fight it all you wanted, it did not negate the fact that you belonged to him. It did not negate the fact that he cared for you. . .

Cared so deeply that it had him questioning whether or not he had ever really known joy or a true sense of belonging before now. 

“I am not them.” He rasped out, knowing that you’d understand exactly who he was implying. 

He was not like the others. He never had been. He had a penchant for cruelty and a talent for killing, but he would never hurt you for sport. He knew of Harkonnen men that battered their women simply because they could, but the mere idea of putting his hands on you made him want to sink his blade into his own chest and twist. How could he ever explain that to you? Put his emotions into words when you knew so little about him? How could he tell you that he’d been dreaming of you since he was a child? Vivid, prophetic dreams that left him lonely and impatient. 

“But you are.” There was a strange glint in his eyes that had your words leaving you in a breathy whisper. You were being vulnerable with him. Showing him your worst fears and letting him know that you currently had no more aces up your sleeves. The Voice was useless to you right now, and no matter how skilled you were in combat, it would mean nothing if you were up against an entire planet of people that wished you dead and silenced. You had kept the fear bottled in for three days now, and you had no one to confide in. 

You would regret this, you knew it with a surety that nearly had you choking on a sob. This information could be used against you. He’d make sure that you met your end the second that you birthed him an heir. . . 

So why did he look offended by your words? 

His plush lips parted, blue eyes widening for a second as he fully comprehended what you had just uttered to him. Having you as his would be sweet, yes, but it paled in comparison to the idea that you would eventually care for him in the same way that he did for you. It lit a fire inside of him, and he didn’t understand how to make you see. 

Feyd needed you to open your eyes and understand that he was not your enemy. He was the only person on all of Giedi Prime that was absolutely, without any question or doubt, on your side. He would burn the entire planet to ash if he had to. He’d serve his uncle’s heart on a silver platter and let you eat your fill if it meant that you would come to understand his level of utter devotion. 

You blinked and suddenly you were on your back, a small grunt escaping you as his calloused palm pushed against your chest, too fast for you to even register. He was on top of you, straddling your hips. The weight of him on top of you had your teeth clenching, your traitorous body reacting in a way that sickened you. Civilizations had worshiped at the feet of long forgotten Gods that weren’t half as beautiful and cruel as Feyd-Rautha. 

“You are my wife-” He started to speak, but you were quick to interrupt him, refusing to back down. 

“Not yet.” You seethed. 

Feyd couldn’t help but want to fight you on that, to challenge the unnecessary bite in your tone. If you were so hellbent on treating him like an enemy then so be it. He’d push you to a breaking point. He’d make you love and trust him. He’d show your true enemies such cruelty that you’d have no reason to doubt his convictions. 

And before he could reign in his emotions, before he could feel any guilt, he was lurching forward. Long fingers tangled themselves into your hair as his lips pressed against yours. Unyielding, he dominated your mouth, teeth sinking into your lower lip. He needed to taste you- your mouth, your blood. 

Sweat, tears, slick. He wanted all of it on his tongue. 

The years spent waiting and biding his time had been worse than he realized, for the second his lips pressed against yours he found it hard to stop himself. The need that coursed through him now was more powerful than anything else he had ever experienced. You yelped against his mouth in pain, trying your hardest to flinch back at the sharp pain in your lip. The mattress and his unyielding grip on you kept you from moving even an inch. He took advantage of that small sound, his tongue lapping at the roof of your mouth lazily, the salty iron of your own blood invading your senses. 

And he was everywhere. His weight was on top of you, his arms on either side of your head, his fingers buried in your hair- and you couldn’t get away. You tried bucking him off, hands grabbing at his training shirt so that you could try and pry him off of you. The muscles in your arms strained as you pulled, thighs quivering as you tried your damndest to flip him over onto the bed. You would not kiss him back. 

No matter how badly your instincts were telling you to give in. That voice in the back of your head was loud, but the sound of your own pounding heart in your ears drowned it out. Your body burned as he slid his hips down slightly, changing his angle so that he could grind himself against you. The friction sent a jolt of what felt like lightning shooting up your spine. It took all of your self restraint not to moan into his mouth, which would no doubt motivate him to push this even further. 

You felt him. All of him, even through all the layers of clothing that separated the two of you. He was hard, to what must have been a point of physical pain, over a mere kiss. His lips were unexpectedly soft on yours, far softer than the very few men that you had kissed in the past. They moved languidly against yours, and you wanted to be disgusted by the fact that he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. 

You hated the part of you that craved this. You could deny it all that you wanted, but the dull ache between your traitorous legs told you what your mind could not: a sick part of you wanted this. Maybe it was the very same part of you that had wanted those guards dead. 

You should hate him. You wanted to hate him. You needed to hate him. 

And then his hands were sliding down the back of your neck, his lips sliding down the base of your throat- 

“Stop! Feyd, stop!” You finally found your voice, sucking in a breath of air. You felt dizzy, and yet your body was more alive than it ever had been. 

Traitor. You were a traitor to your family. 

He sat up then, eyes glazed over, his thick lashes casting shadows on the tops of his cheeks in the dim lighting. 

“Do you hate me?” He panted out, voice thick with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place. It was as if he could read your mind. 

“Yes.” You lied. This lie was even harder to swallow than your last for whatever reason. Maybe it was the heady look in your eyes or your swollen, well kissed lips. . . but Feyd knew you weren’t telling the truth.

“I’ll fuck you until you want me,” And his harsh, horrible words didn’t quite match the tender way he cupped your cheek. “And then you’ll want me so badly that you’ll love me.” 

He got off of you then, forcing himself away from you before he made a mistake. Today was not the day to claim you, not with the previous night so fresh on your mind. He would figure out a way to apologize for his loss of control later. For now he needed a change of scenery, preferably one that didn’t have a bed. . . or a couch. . . or a table. . . or a counter- 

“Pig,” You spat in his direction, quickly fumbling to straighten out your now wrinkled clothing. 

“Your training clothes are in our closet. Put them on.” He was still breathing heavily, pacing around the room with his hands on his hips. His cock was straining against the confines of his pants, begging him to turn around and finish what he started- make good on the promise he just made to you. 

“Are you crazy?” You screamed at him, lurching up from the bed as though you were going to attack him. 

Slowly he turned to face you, his features twisting into something that looked a tad bit like forlorn yearning. 

“Yes,” And he nodded, not denying the fact. “Yes I am.” 

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[sunrizef1]

Baby Blue

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader

Warnings: Slight cursing, not edited

Word count: 3.8k (this was supposed to be short 😭)

Summary: Logan had just misspoke, shouldnt have been a huge problem, right? Wait, what do you mean he said he had a daughter? And is that his girlfriend?

Authors Note: Surpise, not a whiv chapter but instead, an uncharacteristically sweet fic.

Logan had fucked up. Royally. And he knew that, which is why, the second the words had left his mouth, he was grimacing, gaze quickly switching over to Oscar who was sat a few yards away with wide eyes.

It was the United States Grand Prix. Austin, Texas. Logan had been put on the media panel that day since he was the only American present and had the most connection to Austin, Daniel Ricciardo not included.

By pure luck or maybe by sheer will, Logan had been sat next to Oscar, both grateful to have a friend next to them. Fortunately, on Oscar’s other side was Max, a driver who’d always been respectful toward the American. Lewis completed the quartet, another driver that Logan wouldn’t have to worry about in terms of kindness.

When the panel started, almost none of the questions were for him. He’d expected that, he wasn’t exactly having an overwhelming season. Especially compared to the joys and successes of the Red Bull world champion or the unexpected high-placing finishes of the Aussie next to him. And his woes were nothing to write home about when placed next to the declining team performances from the 7-time world champion and future Ferrari driver.

So, as he had expected, most of the questions were asked to his left.

But he’d been put on the panel for a reason, and eventually an America-related question did arise, signaling that maybe he would be of use today.

“Good morning,” the reporter calls out toward Logan and he smiles with a nod toward the darkness where the reporters are all sat.

“Morning.”

“How’s it feel to be back racing in America? You have any family or special guests in the garage this weekend, giving you that extra boost?”

Oscar nudges his knee with his own, causing Logan to let out a small laugh as he glances over. He actually did have some special guests in the garage, not just his own family, who’d come from Miami for this, but also, you, his Fiancée. And his 4-year-old daughter, of course.

Your entire family lived in Texas. So whenever you werent following Logan around the world, you landed back home in Texas, the family home being the best place for your daughter to grow up. It helped that your parents loved her more than the world, constant presents being rained down on the little girl every time you’d bring her. He hadn’t seen you in about two months, not having had a time to come back to America since summer. So having you in his garage for the first time in a while was all that much more of a motivator for him.

He raises the microphone to his lips to say a paraphrased version of that, your relationship not being a very public one yet. Logan wanted to get the wedding done before he paraded you around, not wanting to add the stress of the public on your already existing stress from wedding planning and taking care of your daughter.

“It’s always great to get back home, you know? Uh, got to stay with some family out here for a few days, got some good southern food in me, which was great,” Logan laughs lightly, watching as the reporters grin widens, “And it always feels different when you’ve got important people in the garage, cheering you on. People who don’t usually get to make it, so that’s really nice.”

The reporter nods as Logan puts his mic down, but she raises hers to further the questioning, “Anyone specific? A lot of people were curious about a few different people in your garage.”

Logan nods, your family was pretty well known, especially in Texas. You weren’t famous or anything, but you’d grown up like Logan and when people have that type of money, their names get spoken pretty often.

“Yeah, some close family and friends. You’re probably asking about the l/n’s and I, um, knew them growing up so it’s really nice to see them out here supporting me,” Logan pauses slightly. The internet was pretty sure he had a girlfriend, not that he’d confirmed anything. It wasn’t hard to figure out though, as he almost never shut up about you. But it wouldn’t hurt if he mentioned having a girlfriend, right? Everyone already knew that anyway, it couldn’t do too much damage, “My girlfriend’s here, as well. Really happy to have her here, she hasn’t been to a race in a while.”

Oscar snorts, making Logan glare at the Aussie. Oscar knew you were more than his girlfriend, having been present at the engagement. He also knew Logan was leaving out a key family member in his list, a certain baby being completely unmentioned.

“Well it’s always nice to have your family, right?” The reporter nods with a kind smile, jotting something down on her notebook.

Logan nods with a matching smile, eyes shining as he thinks about you and your family in the garage, “Yeah, and I mean, my daughter-“

Logan pauses, stomach dropping as he takes in the slip-up. He glances over to Oscar whose eyes are wide with shock, mouth dropped open slightly. Max leans forward to lock eyes with the American from Oscars other side, eyebrows furrowed. Lewis looks his way as well, but his expression is soft as he takes in the younger man’s evident embarrassment.

Logan had fucked up.

His cheeks are bright red as all the eyes in the room stare at him, questioning looks on their faces. Logan laughs slightly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks back out toward the reporter who’s now wearing an incredulous smile, “Shit.”

This breaks some of the shock in the room, laughs ringing out from in front of him. Logan shakes his head with another embarrassed laugh, “My girlfriends gonna be so mad at me.”

Logan drops the mic next to him, reaching his hands up to shield his face in order to avoid some of the embarrassment. Oscar, still laughing, reaches over to pat him on the back, his free hand stifling the laugh threatening to escape his throat.

Luckily for Logan, they run out of time before the questions can get back to him and the surprise child he just revealed he had. He’s quick to rush out of the room, only pausing to allow Oscar to catch up before he’s gone again, practically running to Williams.

He can hear Oscar struggling to keep up behind him, shocked laughs occasionally echoing out as he runs.

“Logan- Come on, slow down man!” Oscars calling out toward the blond, Logan continuing at his fast pace. He only slows when he makes it to hospitality, Oscar slamming on his brakes in order to avoid crashing into the taller mans back.

Logans eyes scan the room in search of you, Oscar reaching a tired arm up to rest agaisnt the distressed Americans shoulder.

Oscars groaning as Logan walks off, apparently having caught sight of your family.

“Hi, Mrs. L/N,” Logan says shyly as he walks up to your mom, a sheepish smile painted on his flushed face. Your mom turns toward him with a smile but after taking in his guilty demeanor, she looks at him suspiciously.

“You’ve known me for 18 years and you’ve never called me Mrs L/N,” your mom looks your fiancé up and down, eyes narrowing as she catches sight of an equally nervous Oscar, “What did you do, Logan? And why did you drag Oscar into it?”

Logan laughs nervously, glancing back at Oscar who ducks his head, looking away from the interaction, “Do you, maybe, know where y/n is? It’s important.”

Your mom pauses, suspicion still rolling of her in waves. But, sensing Logan’s urgency, she nods, “She’s in your room with Nat.”

Logan can’t help the smile that shows at the mention of your daughter’s name, sighing slightly with relief, “Thank you, I need to go talk to her.”

Your mom just nods, watching as Logan starts to walk quickly away, moving toward you in his room. Oscar moves to follow but your mom is calling him back before he can take a step, “Stay here, Oscar. Let him go, you’re going to tell me about the season. Either that or you’ll be the one to tell me what Logan did.”

Oscar, having had plenty of conversations with your mother while growing up, sighs, accepting his fate, “It’s been good.”

Logan, though, has made it to his room, opening the door quietly as he reaches it. He smiles once he looks inside, being met with you dancing around with your daughter, music playing from your phone on the table. As the door opens, your daughter looks over, a grin breaking out on her little face as she practically lights up, “Daddy!”

Logan grins as your daughter jumps up, sprinting over to jump into her dad’s embrace, giggling as he lifts her up into the air, clutching her gently to his chest, “Hi, baby. You having fun with mama?”

Your daughter nods, smiling brightly as she turns to look back at you, “Yeah! Me and mama went to see the cars and they let me sit in it! I wanna be a driver like you, dad.”

Logan grins, looking over to where you’re stood, a small smile on your face as you watch the interaction. When you catch Logan’s gaze on you, you speak up, “They let her sit in your car. They told her about how her daddy races every weekend and she decided that that’s what she wanted to do. She said you’re the coolest person she knows, now.”

Logan laughs, warmth filling his heart as you recap your daughter’s words, “Just don’t tell her Oscar races, too. Can’t have her thinking he’s cooler than me.”

You daughter looks up at the statement, confusion crossing her face, “Uncle Os drives fast too?”

Logan hums, nodding as he sways, your daughter resting her head on his chest, “Yeah, he does. He’s not as cool as me, though.”

You daughter hums, “I think he’s pretty cool.”

You laugh, moving toward the father-daughter pair, a serious look crossing your face, “He is, baby. Do you want to go see him so I can talk to daddy?”

Logan grimaces but lets go as your daughter nods, letting you set her down. She wraps her small hand around one of your fingers, swaying happily at the idea of seeing her Australian uncle.

You push the door open to go find Oscar but when you look up, you see Oscar’s already stood there. He looks exhausted and Logan knows that a conversation with your mom was no doubt the reason why.

“Uncle Ozzy!” Your daughter’s small voice calls from below you, causing a bright grin to burst onto Oscar’s face as he picks her up, the small girls hands immediately moving to push against his face. Oscar laughs, moving an arm to support the small girls weight as she pushes his face around.

You smile at the pair, laughing as your daughter grasps Oscars hair in her small fists and pulls gently, just watching as his head rolls around, “Can you watch her? I have to talk to Logan.”

Oscar smirks, glancing over your shoulder to see Logan standing sheepishly, “Someones in trouble.”

You hum, small smile on your lips, “Can you just hang with her for a minute?”

“Yeah, I can,” Oscar says, smiling down at your daughter in his arms, “Anything for my favourite American.”

You hear Logan mumble “rude” under his breath, warranting a snort from you as you watch Oscar walk away, no doubt about to parade your daughter around to anyone who'd listen.

You turn back around, coming face-to-face with Logans grimacing form, “Saw the panel.”

Logan winces, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck, “Yeah?”

You hum, stepping across the room to reach your fiance, “Mhm, I did.”

“Im sorry,” Logan sighs, looking anywhere but at you.

You can't help the small laugh that escapes you at his clear distress. Logans head snaps up, confusion crossing his face at your apparent glee, “What?”

“Im not mad, Lo,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. He stares at you, a puzzled look stuck on his previously fear-stricken face.

“You’re not?”

You smile up at him, shaking your head, “I mean, it's not how I would’ve wanted to announce it but I don’t mind too much.”

“Really?” You giggle when you catch the relief on his face, his shoulders dropping dramatically.

“Mhm,” you tangle one of your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, his head tilting slightly back into your touch, “It was nice to be private for a while during the engagement. We didn’t have concrete wedding plans and Nat was so young. But the weddings basically planned and Nats old enough to handle herself in public, I think it’s a really good time, actually. Do you want to say something official?”

“I will, but until then I’d be happy to not have to hide you guys,” Logan grins, a hand reaching up to grasp the side of your face. You blush as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“That sounds lovely,” you say, untangling yourself from his hold, “But, for now, I think you have interviews to attend to.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” Logan replies, but his gaze is still locked on you, love filling his eyes, “I’ll see you in a minute, I love you.”

“Love you too, Lo. Go do your interviews,” Your soft smile shines, lighting up your face.

Logan nods, moving to exit the small room, stopping to send you another grin. You laugh, pushing him out of the room, the door sliding closed behind him.

He moves on practical auto-pilot, feet carrying him to the media pen, thoughts of his family stuck on his mind. He reaches the pen quickly, spotting a group of about 8 drivers all huddled together in a chat. He thinks about walking the other direction but Max spots him first, gesturing for the younger driver to walk over. Logan agrees reluctantly, making his way to his fellow drivers.

“Logan!” Max calls, a smile on his face as he greets the Williams driver warmly.

Logan nods, smiling at Max politely, “Hey, Max.”

Max grins, throwing an arm around the blond driver, “How are you doing?”

Logan hums with a small smirk, knowing exactly what Max was eluding to, “I’m great, actually. Thanks for asking, Max.”

Max tilts his head with a wide smile, raising an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean, you know how my morning went.”

Max seems to catch that Logan’s allowing him to publicly address the situation in front of the other drivers, turning his attention to the slightly confused drivers around them, “How’d the Mrs feel about it?”

“She was fine with it,” Logan smiles, “Honestly kinda happy to be open about it.”

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Lando says from across the small circle, a confused look occupying his face.

Logan shakes his head lightly, arms crossed across his chest, “Fiancée, actually. Been engaged for like a year now.”

This sends a wave of shock around the group, Daniel being the only one to pipe up, a huge smile on his face, “I know what this is about!”

George turns to the VCARB driver, a questioning look laying beneath his dramatic sunglasses, “What are you talking about?”

Before Daniel can explain, a high-pitched voice yells out from behind Logan.

“Daddy!”

Several drivers turn, being met with the sight of a small girl sprinting her way toward the group, a smiley Oscar trailing along behind her. The girl giggled as she approaches her father, skipping along happily as she gets near him. Logan leans down, opening his arms to let her walk into his grasp. She wraps her arms around his neck and Logan holds her tightly as Oscar stops behind him.

“Hey baby,” Logan says to his daughter as he looks down at her, “Have a good time with uncle Osc?”

The small girl nods excitedly, grinning as she looks back over to the man she’d spent the past 15 minutes with, “Ozzy took me to the orange garage, um, papaya I think actually, and I got to sit in another car!”

Logan hums, running a hand through the girls hair, trying his best to swipe it back into place, “Yeah?”

“Uh huh, it was really fun!”

Logan smiles, turning back to thank Oscar for looking after the girl. He turns back around, catching the gaze of about 8 different F1 drivers, all with varying levels of shock painted on their faces, “I don't know if you guys saw, but, um, I accidently revealed i had a daughter this morning and, um, this is her?”

Max is the first to laugh, having already been through his shock about the young girl currently attached to her father. Logans face heats as the drivers stare, Nat burrowing her head in her fathers neck as she tries to discreetly glance at the men around her without having to make any eye contact.

“Congrats, man,” Daniel grins, moving over to clap the younger driver on the back. Logan chuckles slightly as your daughter finally moves her head away from him, her curiosity at the Aussie overtaking her shyness.

The honey badger smiles at her, nodding his head. She smiles gently, reaching a small fist out toward the man. Daniels eyes widen at the gesture, eyes glancing between the girl and her outstretched arm before he reaches his own hand up to fist-bump hers. She nods with a satisfied smile, turning back toward Logans neck.

“He’s kinda cool, I think,” She mumbles and Logan smiles glancing over to see if Daniel has heard her words. Based on the increased grin on his face, Logan figures he had.

The rest of the drivers take their turns congratulating Logan on his fatherhood and introducing themselves to the small girl, her favourites being Daniel, Max, George and Alex, who she’d already met in the Williams garage over the past few months.

Eventually, all the socializing caused her to fall asleep against her father's chest, her tired eyes slowly drifting closed. Logan sways slightly, trying his best to soothe her in her slumber.

Once she's fallen asleep, he turns to Oscar, "Do you know where y/n is?"

Oscar nods, "I think she'd fallen asleep when I went to drop Nat back off. Didn't want to wake her so I just brought her over here."

Logan nods, glancing over to see the other drivers getting pulled into interviews. He didn't want to wake you, knowing how little sleep you'd been getting lately with all the wedding planning and your daughter. Anyone else in your family would be too hard to find on such short notice.

So, when his pr officer calls him over to do interviews, he holds Nat a little bit tighter, hoping the interviews don't wake her.

He smiles at the shocked interviewer as she hands him a microphone which he holds in his free hand, trying his best to support your daughter with one arm.

"Morning," Logan nods, voice low.

The interviewer nods slightly, shaking herself out of her shock so she can ask the American some questions.

"Good morning!" Logan thanks his lucky stars as the woman catches his drift and tries her hardest to stay cheerful while keeping her voice relatively quiet, "I had a couple questions about the panel from this morning but it seems you've answered them yourself before I could even ask."

Logan laughs, glancing down at his girl before bringing the microphone to his lips, "Yeah, my girlfriend was asleep and I didn't want to wake her so this girl is joining us today."

The interviewer smiles warmly, "Before this I saw she was hanging out with some of the other drivers?"

"Yeah, yeah, she was. She, uh, had a good time getting to meet some of the grid. But, you know, all the socializing tired her out."

The woman in front of him nods again, glancing over his shoulder at who Logan knew to be Max, getting asked questions across the pen, "How'd they react?"

"I think they were pretty surprised, you know? I don't think a lot of them saw the panel from this morning and even then, I didn't really give much of an explanation. Don't think Max even believed me until Oscar brought her over," Logan laughs, grinning lovingly at the girl starting to stir in his arms.

"Hi baby," Logan says gently, watching as the little girl rubs at her eyes, trying to pull the tiredness from them.

"Hi Dad, where'd Ozzy go?"

Logan glances over his shoulder, looking for the Australian in question. He eventually sees him, turning his body so Nat can see him as well,

"Uncle Osc is just over there, angel."

The girls nods, a frown still on her face from having to wake up, “What about Maxy?”

Logan grins, happy that his daughter was already comfortable with his fellow drivers, even going as far to seek Max out. Logan turns straight around, pointing behind them at the Red Bull driver, "He's there. And Danny's next to him."

The girl nods, a satisfied look on her face as she spots her new friends. Logan turns back to the interviewer, the grin not leaving his face.

Max, meanwhile, is in the middle of an interview when he notice the interviewer looking over his shoulder. Max looks at the man in front of him with a confused look, the man quick to explain.

"Think the newest addition to the paddock is looking for you, Max."

Max looks over his shoulder to see a small girl, chin resting on her dad's shoulder as she stares back at Max. When he turns to see her, she grins, moving a small hand to wave excitedly at the driver before moving to tug at her father's hair, looking for his attention.

Max grins, waving back as Logan looks over, indulging the girl. She laughs happily, getting even more excited as she spots Daniel beside him.

"Maxy! Danny!" Max looks beside him and sees that Daniel hasn't noticed your daughters yelling and he quickly leans to the side, poking the Aussie. Daniel turns to the side to see what Max wants but is instead met with Max pointing vaguely across the pen. Daniel glances over and grins when he sees Logan and his daughter, the smaller of the two waving hurriedly at the pair of drivers.

Daniel waves back, a grin practically splitting his face. The interviewer sends him a questioning glance and he laughs lightly, "Seems we've got a new cheerleader, then."

The interviewer laughs, quickly returning to the questions. Max, after waving bye to your daughter, turns back as well.

Your daughter, now properly noticed by her new favorite drivers, turns back around, letting Logan get back to his questions. She wraps her arms around his neck gently, smiling in satisfaction as she leans up to tell him something.

"I like your friends, dad."

Logan smiles warmly, happy to see her getting along with his coworkers, "I'm glad, baby."

———————————————

@casperlikej @evie-119

[coff33andb00ks]

Hazy Days - LN

summary: summer fling, don't mean a thing pairing: lando norris x divorced!reader word count: 3.6k warnings: non-explicit smut (mdni), older woman a.n.: fuck quadrant's summer scope vids song: summer nights from Grease

You're doing it again. It's been over a year now and you're still rubbing your ring finger with your thumb. You're not as quite as surprised when you don't feel the rings, and when you look down you're relieved to see that the pale patch of skin has disappeared. I've got to buy a ring, you think. Because, despite everything, you still feel weird without a ring on that finger.

You give your head a shake. The marriage is over. It was over before it officially began, but the divorce has been finalized for almost a month. The settlement is in your account – it's how you're paying for this spontaneous trip.

You're no longer a married woman. A terrifying thought, even now, when your entire identity for nearly 10 years was wife. And now…

Now you don't know what you are.

So you packed a bag, bought a plane ticket on a whim, and now you're at some seaside hotel in the south of France. You're looking out at the people on the beach, and further out at the yachts dotting the Mediterranean.

A place you've always wanted to visit and now you're frozen in the hotel room, scared to death that you won't enjoy it. Like a decadent dessert you've thought about all day that tastes like an old candy bar when you finally get a bite. Like the new Louboutin pumps you'd wanted for your birthday two years ago that had pinched your toes and you haven't worn since.

You've built this up in your head and now you're afraid it won't live up to your expectations.

Babes, enjoy it. This is gonna be so healing for you.

Your best friend's words ring in your mind and you reach for the phone to call her for more reassurance, then remember the time difference. She loves you, but she won't appreciate a phone call this early unless it's an emergency.

"God, get over it. You're not the only newly divorced woman in the world," you mutter to yourself, turning away from the window to finish dressing. You want to do some exploring, get plenty of photos to share, maybe find a few souvenirs.

Your thumb slides over your ring finger as you exit the hotel a little while later and you sigh, turning back to ask the concierge of a nice jewelry store. When you tell him you're interested in purchasing a ring, he knows the perfect place and soon you're on your way, strolling along the winding streets.

The afternoon sun is hot and you breathe a sigh of relief once you step into the shop. The interior or hushed and you're aware of the clerks' eyes all moving to you. A couple young men at the counter are chatting and laughing, not paying attention to you at all, and you venture further into the shop.

The men are looking at bracelets, and a smartly dressed clerk is more than happy to show you the rings, leading you to a low counter and inviting you to sit in the cushioned chair.

"Oh… No, not anything like a wedding or engagement ring," you say as a tray of sparkling diamond rings is brought out. "I… I recently got divorced and I need something to replace my rings. Something that looks nothing like a wedding ring?"

From behind you, you can hear the two men murmuring, their English accents oddly comforting after three days of hearing only French voices. You finally narrow the selection down to two and are trying to decide when movement out the corner of your eye snags your attention.

It's one of the men, peering at necklaces. You steal a glance at him – handsome, well dressed, a head of dark curls – and look back at the rings when he turns his head, embarrassed to be caught looking.

You're focusing on the rings, trying them on and testing out how they feel against your thumb, when he speaks.

"I think the other one looks better."

Jerking your head up, you find yourself looking into a pair of brilliant green eyes.

It's so fucking unfair that his lashes are so pretty.

"Do you?" you ask, looking back at the rings.

"Yeah – unless you want something flashy?"

He's moved close enough you can smell his cologne.

He even smells divine. So fucking unfair.

You switched rings and nodded. "Flashy isn't really me… I'll take this one," you tell the clerk.

The man smiles. "Getting used to a ring?"

"Ah… No," you chuckle. "Can't get used to not having one."

His smile dies and a look of panic flashes over his face. "Um… Sorry?"

You almost laugh. Giving your head a shake, you watch the clerk wrap the ring and wait for her to return. "Don't be."

"Oh," he murmured, smile returning and sliding into a grin. "Congratulations, then."

This time you do laugh. "Thanks."

He gives you a look as the clerk returns, and before you can reach for your wallet he's already handing over his card. You open your mouth to protest but he tips his head. "A congratulations gift," he insists.

His friend approaches, giving you a friendly nod. "What are we congratulating?"

You smile weakly. "The end of my marriage."

"Divorce?" he asks. When you nod, he smirks. "The best thing about marriage, honestly."

"Max."

"What am I supposed to say?" Max protests, holding up his hands.

The first man groans. "You're such a – cheers," he says when the clerk brings his card back. "Let's go before you embarrass me even more."

You're smiling at their banter as you thank the clerk for her assistance. When you stand to make your way out, he's waiting near the door.

"Buy you a drink?" he offers as he opens the door for you.

His name is Lando. Max – pain in my ass – is obviously his best friend and doesn't join you for drinks as he's got to get packed up to leave. When you suggested Lando spend time with him before he goes home, Lando waved it off.

"He lives in England but I see him all the time."

Lando, it turns out, does not live in England. He looks almost embarrassed when you ask where he lives, and when he finally mutters that he lives in Monaco your eyes widen. Surely he's too young to be that well off?

Trust fund, probably. Now you don't feel so bad for his paying for the ring.

"That must be… Interesting," you say, taking a sip of your drink. He's brought you to a chic bar at the beach, and you're sitting on the upper terrace, the slowly sinking sun casting a golden glow over the water.

"I don't really get much time there." He fiddles with the stirrer in his drink. "I'm gone a lot."

Interest piqued, you set your glass down. "Oh?" Maybe he's a model, even if he is a little on the short side. Not that he's that short – he's definitely taller than you. "What do you do?"

"I drive cars." He ducks his head briefly. "Racecars."

"Really? I'm not… I'm a dumb American, the only racing I really know is the Indy 500?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "That's IndyCar."

You listen, fascinated, as he tells you about formula one, which you have heard about but it's not in your orbit. He seems both relieved and amused at the fact you're not into sports, and you can feel him relax as he laughs when you tell him you only watch the Super Bowl every year so you can eat a ton of junk food.

A drink turns into a few, and he's so nice to listen to, so easy to talk to. When he suggests dinner, you hesitate. You don't want to be that woman, newly divorced and falling into bed with the first man that looks at you. Especially one so young—

"How old are you?" you blurt.

It obviously surprises him and, though he was halfway out of his seat he sank back down. "How old are you?"

You refuse to play coy, to fish for compliments like you're desperate. "I'm thirty."

His eyebrows lift. "Twenty-four."

So not that young. More like… younger.

Lando gives you a smile. "Does that cancel dinner?"

You look into his eyes for a long moment then glance out at the view. There's an obvious fork in the road in front of you. One leads to something with this handsome racecar driver, and you have a feeling it's going to be more than dinner. The other leads to the rest of your solo vacation, with the cloud of what could be lingering. Looking at him again, you slowly breathe in.

Expensive cologne. Salt air.

"I'd love dinner," you say, and his smile rivals the setting sun.

You'll never be able to describe the meal you ate. Lando makes it nearly impossible to focus on anything but him. Not in a demanding way. He's just… Magnetic. He tells you stories about his career, about embarrassing moments and highs and lows and talks about his other ventures. How does he have time to sleep? He talks glowingly about Max and has you giggling into your wine over a story of the two of them getting into trouble that left Lando locked out of his parents' home. When he apologizes for talking so much you almost beg him to not stop. But he asks about you, and you can't help thinking he seems genuinely interested.

"My life isn't half as interesting as yours," you say with a shake of your head.

"I don't know… You're divorced, halfway around the world, having dinner with a strange guy. Seems interesting to me," he murmurs.

"Oh, it's a tale as old as time. Girl meets boy, girl falls in love and gives up everything… Girl becomes a woman, boy becomes a toad."

Lando winced. "No kissing to turn him into a prince?"

"He'd have to want the kiss for that to happen."

"What a fucking idiot," Lando says.

You tilt your head to the side. "For being a toad?"

"For not wanting your kiss."

You set your glass down with a surprised gulp. About to call him out for feeding you a line, you pause, seeing the glimmer in his eyes. Without thinking you lick your lips and see his gaze dip down briefly. You don't know what to say or how to react so you sit there, unable to refrain from thinking about how a kiss from Lando would feel.

"His loss." Lando's voice was barely above a murmur. Then, shockingly, his cheeks darken and his tongue darts over his lips. He looks down at his plate and you can hear his sigh before he looks up, his expression serious. "You gave up everything?"

"A slight exaggeration, really." You shrug, picking at your food. "I had dreams that I put on hold to help him achieve his."

"I've never been married. But, like…" He sighs, setting his fork down. "That doesn't seem fair?"

"Life isn't—"

"I know, but marriage isn't life is it?" His face screws up at that but he forges ahead. "Isn't the whole point of it to support and help each other achieve their dreams?"

Smiling sadly, you nod. "I thought it was. He thought different."

"What dreams did you put on hold?" he asks after a moment.

"I wanted to get published." You look down at your half-eaten food. "When I was a kid, I loved reading and making up stories… I was studying for my degree in English – I planned to teach writing while working on my novels, because it's hard to make money doing it at first, and… Now it's too late."

"Why do you say that?"

"I'd have to go back to school and—"

"Yeah? Would you have to start over completely?"

"No." You can't remember how many credit hours you have left, but it would only take a phone call or an email to find out. "I wasn't too far from my degree."

"Then what's stopping you?" he challenged softly.

You don't have an answer. Nothing but the fear of failing, and you don't know him well enough to admit that.

"I don't read." He winces a bit at the admission. "Dyslexic, yeah? It's a miracle I finished school. But anyway. You write a novel and I promise to read it."

A smile pulls at your lips. "You'd do that for me? Someone you don't even know?"

"Of course." He grins. "I believe in supporting the arts."

He drives you back to the hotel in his sleek sportscar and for once you understand the allure of a purring engine and soft leather seats. There's no impending pressure when he offers to see you to your room, only the heat of his hand at the small of your back and the enticing scent of his cologne.

At your door, he hesitates. "Can I kiss you?"

Has anyone ever asked your consent for a kiss? You don't think so and the realization makes you sad, but you push that away because you've wanted him to kiss you since halfway through dinner.

His lips are a lighted match to kindling. The heat and desire are immediate and you're leaning into him, frightened by the strength of your want but craving more. It's been an embarrassingly long time since you've felt this way and you're aware that it may be even longer before you feel it again. So when the door finally clicks open you don't hesitate to step inside, pausing and reluctantly breaking the kiss to look up at him.

And wish you'd googled how to invite a man into your hotel room without sounding desperate.

But you don't have to ask.

"Okay to come in?" he whispers.

"God yes," you gasp.

His lips are on yours before the door closes behind him. Wrapping your arms around him, you sink into the kiss, snatching in breaths as his hands cradle your head. A soft whine is muffled against his tongue as you grip the front of his shirt, knees nearly forgotten as the tenderness of his touch wars the ferocity of his kiss.

"Fuck," he mumbles against your lips, his hands beginning to wander, molding you closer against him, his breath hitching as he clutches your hips. He pulls his head back slightly and you can feel his harsh breathing as he stares at you before crashing his lips to yours again.

The need grows stronger, almost primal, and you're backing towards the bed, gasping as his hands pull at your dress, nearly ripping it. Craving the feel of his skin, you do the same to his shirt, barely noticing the trail of clothing on the floor, too focused on his touch and his smell and the decadence of his kiss. He guides you down, swallowing your gasp as your bare skin touches the cool sheets.

Breaking the kiss with a harsh moan, he braces his hands on either side of you and lifts up slightly. He's panting, lips parted, and he gives a soft chuckle of surprise. "I didn't plan on this."

You lick your lips, still tasting him. And only craving more. "Neither did I."

He blinks, eyes almost wild as they dart from yours to your lips and back again. And all you can think—

Beautiful. Breathtakingly so. You know it'll never happen but the romantic inside you wishes you could wake up to his eyes every morning.

He leans down, and his kiss sends every coherent thought away. His skin is warm beneath your fingers, his hair softer than you thought it would be. His hands are rough but gentle at the same time, in your hair and trailing down your sides. Your name is a longing moan vibrating against your throat as you trace the muscles of his back.

"Lando," you gasp, arching beneath him.

"I know… I know." Hot breath at your ear, fingers digging into your thigh. Guiding your leg over his hip.

"Please." It's a soft moan.

"Fuck." His lips move to yours, his gasping whimper muffled.

The frantic need is still there but he's unhurried, as though he's trying to memorize every breath, every touch. When your hand flies out to grasp the sheet his hand follows, fingers threading between yours and gripping tightly. You're lost in the haze, sweat forming between you, sheets twisting. Ecstasy rises, peaks, and it's so sudden and delicious your cries ring out.

"Y/n." A desperate whine that only increases the bliss.

Rolling, twisting, arching. It's feverish and needy and so good so so good.

You both collapse, your hands in his sweat-damp hair. Panting, tingling, you wait for the awkwardness that never comes. His touch is tender, his lips gentle on yours before he's pulling away, murmuring that he'll get a towel. He's back before you can catch your breath, and by the time you can breathe he's kissing you again.

The sky outside is turning gray when you both breathlessly agree to get some sleep. You half expect him to leave, but he's there when you wake up, sleeping on his stomach next to you, his arm slung across your waist, his gentle snores telling you he's fast asleep.

And though you distinctly remember him saying he was going back to Monaco that day, he sticks around. Blushes and shrugs when you ask him about it over lunch, then suggests borrowing a friend's yacht for the night. The days bleed into the nights, a blurred span of time of sightseeing, swimming, and Lando.

When it's time for you to pack up to go home you feel a little bereft. But the vacation can't last forever. You've got to go back to real life, figure out how you'll live as a completely free woman. And he's got to get back to his life, jetting around the world and undoubtedly breaking hearts.

You exchange numbers and he promises to keep in touch, but you know you'll be forgotten before your plane takes off. You've been a pleasant distraction for his summer break, nothing more.

You're about to board when your phone buzzes with an incoming text. From Lando.

- You dropped your ring in my car.

As you stare at the words, you realize you haven't rubbed your ring finger in nearly a week. A picture appears on the screen, the ring – that he bought – resting in his palm.

- Hold onto it for me?

He won't. He'll give it away or sell it or take it back to the shop.

But, when you're back home and have exchanged texts with him and even a couple phone calls – yes I promise I contacted an advisor, I'm signing up for classes – and he lets you know his break is over and he's getting back to work, you cave and pull up footage of him in an interview.

He looks different on the screen of your laptop. Good, but different. And you can only focus on the necklace that's just visible under his (hideous really) orange shirt. When he leans, it shifts, and you see it.

Your ring.

"Are you still hung up on her?"

Lando's head snaps up at Max's question. "What?"

His friend gestures to the phone in Lando's hand. "That American?"

He feels his cheeks heat and realizes Max knows he's looking at your Instagram. "I'm not hung up."

Max just looks at him.

"I'm just checking on her," he mutters.

With a sigh, Max softens and sits next to him. "It's okay to like her, you know."

He huffs, his hand reaching to fiddle with the ring on his necklace. "She was just supposed to be a fling."

"But she wasn't," Max says after a moment.

Lando shakes his head. "I don't know," he whispers.

Silence lingers, stretches as his thumb hovers over your most recent post.

Then, softly. "Am I stupid?"

Max shoots him a look.

"For thinking it was special," he adds before his friend can insult him. "For thinking she thinks it was special."

"Was it special?"

He swallows hard, rolling the ring between his fingers as he looks at the post, a photo of a cup of coffee next to a laptop. Up past my bedtime parsing Austen. Liking it, he closes the app and locks his phone.

Was it special? Or was it just the great sex and no strings that had him thinking it was? At first, in those days immediately after you'd left, he'd only thought about the sex. How freeing it had been, knowing he wouldn't see you again and could let inhibitions go. But with each week that passed the sex wasn't the only thing he thought about.

Laughter and sunshine. Salty air and sweet conversation. Honeyed voice and understanding eyes.

He lifts his head, meeting Max's eyes. He doesn't have to say it. Max has known him for more than half his life. But he answers.

"Yes."

Taglist:

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