#lace is not like my other ocs on here

[fairyhaven13]

I rewatched Rise of the Guardians a couple months ago and it made me revisit my story I had been working on. I did a ton of research for my idea of Mary, Jack’s sister, becoming a Deer Woman and a Guardian, but it just... wouldn’t stick. I still like the idea and plan to use it eventually, but not as the main story. It just felt weird. I’m white and Mary’s white and I don’t feel right using Native American culture as her cryptid role. It needs reworking to make it usable.

Luckily, soon after watching the movie, I had this funky dream where Pitch Black got stuck in a nightmare he couldn’t control and had to work with some humans to escape. I woke up going, Whoa, That was Fun! So, I’m working on that idea instead. I really like it so far. I’ll put more about it and this character pictured here under the cut. For those who don’t want to read all that, Lace is my Guardian OC, the Guardian of Comfort! She’s a Naiad. :)

The concept so far is that after the movie, some other cryptids who feed on fear--in this case, Rakshasa--yoink a weakened Pitch into their nightmare pocket dimension. His whole fiasco launched a new wave of fear in humans that made the Rakshasa more powerful, and with him in their clutches, they can up the ante on their own nightmares to feed more.

The pocket dimension works as a trap pulling humans in and keeping them afraid. When Pitch realizes there’s no reasoning with the Rakshasa, he’s forced to work with the humans trapped there to break the nightmarescape and get out. The girl here is Lace Solaris, an OC I’m extremely proud of the design for. She was the first human to accept working with Pitch, and in fact rescued him when they first met, leading him to think having backup might not be such a bad idea. He’s scornful of how genuinely kindhearted she is and mostly sees her as canon fodder at this point. She knows he’s the Boogeyman; he’s clearly not human, and all the other nightmares in that dimension give her no reason not to believe in him, so she sees him. But, she also knows he’s not her enemy at the moment.

Lace is good with puzzles, a patient thinker, and most of all, bent on soothing and comforting everyone. When she rescued Pitch the first time, he woke to her trying to sooth him like a cornered animal to keep him from flipping out, which was just baffling to him. She’s constantly hiding her own struggles to make others feel better and it takes a toll on her. Eventually, Pitch realizes that she’s not helping him as efficiently because she’s breaking down herself, and he’s forced to be more considerate just to try and get her to keep up with him. Being forced to make her honest about her feelings and--ugh--talk about them makes him also forced to slowly actually care about her. Especially since she won’t share her own feelings unless he does first. It makes for a lot of bonding time between running from horrors.

I have several ideas for them escaping the Rakshasa. First, the pocket dimension won’t have proper access to moonlight, or else Manny would easily break it open. So, they need to open up access to the sky; cause “sunrise,” for lack of a better term, since the moon also tends to be out during the day. Second, Pitch has no idea how to work with a team, and so Lace eventually finds an artifact (a necklace or something?) that gives them brief access to talking with the Guardians when charged with moonlight. Pitch hates it, but acknowledges they need the help, and the Guardians hate him, but want to help the humans, so they reluctantly work together.

Third, in order for Lace to become a Guardian, she needs to die to her Guardian Core. In this case, comfort. I’m thinking at some point there’s a monster that sniffs out fear to eat and so Lace needs to keep Pitch and the group calm. She shuts them in a walk in closet or something and says comforting and soothing things through the door. Pitch realizes that the monster isn’t going away after a minute, but has no choice but to wait, since reacting would make the monster attack everyone, including him. When Lace eventually says to open the door, he finds her bleeding out from the monster’s attack. He has to take her to the safe spot they use to charge the moonlight token (to talk with the Guardians) in order for Manny to have a chance to revive her. That’s when she becomes a Naiad and gains the title of Solace, Guardian of Comfort.

Pitch also gradually realizes that his working with her out of efficiency becomes more than that. Their teamwork becomes banter and philosophical questions, Lace’s calm focus and quiet grace are sweet to be around, and on top of that she’s hilarious with a dry wit that shocks anyone unprepared. She’s kind, but not naive, and is well aware that Pitch has done awful things, but keeps saying that moving forward is what matters. She’s so comfortable with him and he doesn’t know what to do with himself when he unwillingly falls in love with her. Ultimately, when they find the key to escaping the pocket dimension, he sacrifices himself to give them time and Manny revives him as the next Guardian: Guardian of Bravery.

Together, he and Lace are the protectors of lost, neglected, abused, or mentally unwell children. His lair becomes more of a sanctuary, still with soothing shadows, but also with a waterfall and lagoon for Lace, and plenty of safe nooks to hide and rest in.

[sparklingchim]

you're losing me 02 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 5k

genre: angst, married couple, age gap, ceo jk, nepo baby oc, second chance romance

rating: 18+

warnings: pregnancy scare, mean possessive jungkook 😾, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, fingering, choking, oc gets her hands tied bc she's a brat ! ☝🏼, blowjob, cum eating, car sex, teasingg, tipsy oc, v vulnerable oc :(, dirty talk, daddy kink, crying, one boob bite methinks

summary: having a bit too much fun at chanyeol's halloween party, jungkook unexpectedly joins the party too.

a/n: it's finally here !! i hope u like it hihi <3

you're losing me masterlist

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Chanyeol never misses with his Halloween parties.

And usually, you never miss with your costumes too, but given the circumstance you’re glad to even attend.

Truthfully, it was entirely your own fault, and you hate to admit it because you had been extremely excited to wear your customised Barbie doll outfit, but one spill of your wine and the dress was disastrously ruined.

So you had to come up with a spontaneous Plan B.

You finally found usage for the small Victoria Secret wings from their special collection you received during a fashion show. Cinching a lace-embellished corset from Dolce & Gabbana, you paired it with a flirty ruffled miniskirt from Chanel. Your hair was crowned with crystal-embellished hairpins by Jennifer Behr. And oh, those satin heels by Jimmy Choo, adorned with dazzling crystals, added the perfect dose of sparkle to the outfit. You think you might’ve redefined last minute-magic.

“You’re trending on Twitter.”

As you sit on the couch, reaching down to retrieve the ping pong ball for Eunwoo turn at beer pong, Chanyeol abruptly shoves his phone in front of you. His screen is showing the trending page on Twitter.

“Didn’t realise my costume is that cute.” You look down on yourself. It’s a basic costume, but you would have thought that Chanyeol’s vampire look gained more attention.

“Your outfit’s cute, but everyone’s talking about what you posted on your Story,” Chanyeol remarks. He taps on your name trending and scrolls through a myriad of Tweets, with people reposting the picture.

“Oh.”

Eunwoo peeks over Chanyeol’s shoulder and reads the Tweets. He chuckles. “Everyone’s just talking about how hot we look.”

You giggle, swatting his arm.

You didn’t expect a little mirror pic creating chaos to this extent.

It was just a funny coincidence seeing Eunwoo dressed up in a matching costume to in a devil costume, complete with fitting horns and wings, creating an impromptu couple costume. It was his idea to take a picture.

You probably should have considered that Eunwoo is a rising idol and actor. Everyone adores him. And seeing him photographed next to a girl off-screen, especially when it’s not for a highly anticipated KBS drama, might not sit well with everyone.

“Has your hubby seen it?” Chanyeol asks.

You shrug. “I dunno. Maybe? He does regularly check what I post.” But he told you how busy he is today, so you’re not sure if he saw.

“Have you thought about my offer, by the way?” Eunwoo asks.

“What offer?” Chanyeol curiously chimes in.

“The lead role in my next drama. They're srill looking for an actress and honestly, I think ___ would be incredible for this one.”

Chanyeol’s eyes grow wide. “You two in a drama? That’s insane.”

“I’ve never tried acting. Not sure if I’d be any good,” you confess,

“I feel like you’re good at anything,” Chanyeol assures with a grin.

“I’ll think about it.”

They both resume playing beer pong with the others while you watch them as you drink.

As you take a sip from your drink, the weight of lingering gazes persists – less intense than in the beginning, yet a subtle scrutiny remains.

The curious looks undoubtedly trace back to the headlines two weeks ago, when pictures of Jungkook and you in his car near the gynaecologist’s building surfaced online. Captured in a vulnerable moment, perched on Jungkook’s lap with tears streaming down your face, you know how it must’ve looked like to the public.

You couldn’t stand those pictures making the rounds, especially with you in tears.

~

2 weeks ago

“You don’t need to worry.” Jungkook gently traces his thumb over the back of your hand.

You huff, frowning at your interlaced fingers. “But I do worry.”

“Love, if you are potentially-”

“Don’t say it!” you cut him off. “Hearing the word makes me more anxious.”

You hear him utter an exhausted sigh. “You said yourself that your period has been irregular in the past.”

“Yeah, minus the morning sickness.” Your tone is a bit sharp, maybe even sassy, and you don’t actually want it to come off that way and in another circumstance you’d feel guilty, but you’re too drained from your emotions and the conversation to care.

“But the tests you took were negative,” he tries again.

“It’s just plastic. I can’t trust it.”

You took countless of pregnancy tests weekly, filled up the bathroom bin with those stupid little things until you finally acquiesced to Jungkook’s persistent suggestion to schedule an appointment with your gynaecologist.

The slow traces on your hand come to a halt. His fingers lightly squeeze your chin, directing your gaze at him.

“I promise you, whatever the outcome is we’ll make the best of it.”

“I don’t understand how you’re able to stay calm,” you say, eyebrows arching at his composed demeanour.

In truth, this is an authentic depiction of your relationship dynamic. You deal with lots of anxiety, always have been, and Jungkook stands as the serene counterbalance – tranquil and calm, akin to a gentle, silent breeze sweeping over your arms just as it gets unbearably hot in summer and you’re out of options to cope with the temperature.

But this is concerning you both and you can’t grasp the ease with which he handles the plaguing situation.

“Either outcome won’t change anything drastically.”

You head turns to the side and your stare out the windscreen, a hint of pique evident as your tongue pokes your cheek.

“I don’t want a baby.” It’s barely a whisper under your breath. “But you want one.” Your eyes flutter back to him.

Thinking about it, it dawns on you that a potential pregnancy would undoubtedly bring joy to everyone in your life. Especially your dad, who has been eagerly anticipating it for years – bugging you about it almost every time you see him. However, at 24 you have dreams beyond motherhood. The thought of being tied down to it now fills you with a quiet sense of unease.

You know that Jungkook views it differently. It’s understandable; he is 31, and despite mutually agreeing to wait for a baby, for him it’s not the end of the world. His calm demeanour, shaped by having navigated through a previous marriage and bringing a wealth of life experience, contrasts with your apprehension.

Jungkook hesitates. “I do want a baby,” he confirms, a shadow of regretful longing crossing his face. “But it doesn’t matter. Whatever the result is, I will support it – I will support your decision.” Upon squeezing your bare thigh, he realises how cold you are. “Love, you’re freezing.” He fetches a fuzzy blanket from the backseat that he keeps there just for you. He tucks you under the comfy blanket.

“It’s ‘cause I’m scared,” you mumble, leaning back in your seat.

“Come here.” He softly anchors his hands on your hips and guides you to his lap. “It pains me to see you like this.” He wraps the blanket around you tighter. “You don’t wanna go in there and get this done quickly? Avoiding the inevitable messes with your headspace.”

“Just a few more minutes.”

Jungkook mindlessly cups your cheek, tatted knuckle skimming over your skin.

Maybe it’s the way he peers at you. With a gentle shimmer reflecting sheer fondness and poised to unfold the world at your feet, build a home for you wherever your finger points to without having to ask. Maybe it’s the way he is holding you to himself, his hands serving as a protective embrace, a shield warding off any harm that would dare come your way. Or maybe it’s the tall, daunting building on the side of the road, towering over you like a spectre of uncertainty.

But something brings tears to your eyes – making you grow smaller and younger and suddenly fragile.

“My love,” Jungkook utters tenderly. It fills you with warmth and so much love.

Worry contorts his face. His hand around you holds you tighter.

“I’m not gonna cry.” It serves more as a reassurance for yourself than for him.

“You know you can when you’re with me.”

You refuse, adamantly shaking your head. But when you lose control over the tears stinging your eyes, you bury your face into his neck.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, adding a small peck to your temple. “It’s okay to feel this way.”

“Don’t like it,” you murmur into his now tears stained skin.

“But there’s no point in denying it.”

“There’s just...so much. All at once.” You lean back a bit, finger pointing right to your heart.

“I know, love.” He gingerly caresses your back. He softens at your trembling bottom lip, a piece of his own heart falling apart upon seeing you vulnerable on his lap. “I’ll carry everything you can’t, remember?” It’s a vow that formed the foundation of your shared existence. In the quiet assurance of his voice, he continues, “I’ll carry your worries, your fears, your doubts.” His promise is a soothing melody in the symphony of your shared moment. “As long as we talk – communicate properly, this won’t be difficult.”

“But we do talk,” you reply, scrunching your stuffy nose. “No?”

“Yeah, I know.” He nods, thumbing away the tear from the corner of your eye. “But I need you to be honest with me regarding this. No hiding your thoughts from me.”

“I won’t.”

“You’re ready now?” Jungkook asks. As much as he comforts you, traces of curiosity glimmer in his eyes.

“I think so.”

“There’s nothing to worry.” Jungkook smiles in that boyish and lovely way that it coaxes a weak smile on your face.

~

Jungkook had been right the whole time. You weren’t pregnant.

There had been nothing to worry.

You’re still in awe at how he never doubted his feeling. He just knew you weren’t pregnant – typical Jungkook, always has this uncanny grasp on things, like an innate ability.

Your gynaecologist attributed it to a lack of vitamins and advised better hydration.

Jungkook, feeling more than a tad guilty, bombards you with constant reminders to take your vitamins, drink and eat even more than he used to.

“Is that Jeon Jungkook?” A hushed female voice utters to the person beside her.

As you gaze upward, your eyes lock onto Jungkook in the back of the crowd. A flutter dances through your heart at the mere sight of him.

Jungkook’s presence demands every ounce of attention as people instantly recognise him. He’s draped entirely in black. His pants temptingly cling to his thighs, the buttons of his shirt straining across his chiselled chest and strong arms. His Rolex sits prettily around his wrist, it’s gleam harmonising with the brilliance of his wedding ring.

And you find it so funny, silly almost, because this is just Jungkook in his work attire, you see him like this every day, and yet people’s eyes morph into tiny hearts as he effortlessly strolls by, leaving a trail of heated admiration.

Sometimes Jungkook has a way of teasing your sanity. He turns your life into a whimsical romance, making you wonder if you’re living in a silly, sappy romance movie with the dreamiest guy as the lead. Because in this fleeting moment, the world around you dissolves into a blur, and you see nothing but him. Everyone fades, except him.

“Jungkook!” You stand up, a bit wobbly on your heels. He immediately wraps his hands around your sides.

“Hi, love.” He kisses you softly.

You missed his sweet, gentle voice when he talks to you.

He rakes a stare over you, one brow arched. “You’re already drunk? Who’s been giving you drinks?”

You deny his question with a dragged out “no”. “Just a bit tipsy – if even.” Before he can comment anything else regarding how many drinks you’ve already had, you ask, “Where’d you get these cute horns from?” Your hand reaches for the hairband with two attached red horns on them.

“Don’t know the brands name. Just a cheap store down the street from the company.”

You tilt your head as you ponder. “I don’t know of any cheap store close to the company.”

A ping pong ball rolls towards you on the floor. As you bend down to retrieve the ball, Jungkook’s hand pulls you back by the waist and he picks it up himself. His possessive hand travels to your butt and he slides his palm over the ruffles of your skirt.

“You’re not wearing any panties, are you?” he whispers into your ear. He throws the little ball towards the other end of the table. You shake your head, not really comprehending what he’s implying. Your more focused on how he effortlessly threw the ping pong ball straight into the cup.

“Yah, Jungkook! Come here, I need you in my team right now!” Chanyeol yells.

Jungkook lets out a humourless laugh. “Has Eunwoo not been good enough?”

Eunwoo sends a glare his way. “Chanyeol’s just taking everything too seriously.”

Jungkook rolls up his sleeve. “Too good that I’m also competitive.”

~

When Jungkook has enough of beer pong after carrying his team every round, he sits down next to you, pulling you to his lap.

You were just talking with Jisoo about the newest Dior collection, but she leaves the two of you alone with a knowing smile.

Jungkook swiftly takes the partially filled cup from your grasp and places it on the table. “You’ve had plenty to drink tonight.”

“I didn’t drink that much.” You don’t know exactly how much you drank because maybe you had too much to count, but you won’t tell him.

Jungkook cocks his head. He doesn’t need you to tell him to know.

“Get up.” His palms push your lower back.

“Huh?” You play with his necktie, leaning closer to his body. “For what?”

A crooked, entertained smirk crosses his face. “For what?” he scoffs.

His tatted arm snakes around you, his rolled-up sleeve flaunting the pretty inked lines adorning his skin. Jungkook grips you close to him. He angles your face down, his lips brushing over the sensitive part of your neck until he reaches your ear.

“Gonna fuck your brainless in my car. That’s why.”

His voice has got that pretty husky rasp you love so much. Tingles spread everywhere, especially your pussy. Jungkook sucks your earlobe between his teeth, and you think you can feel his smile when an unintended moan bubbles up your throat. You squirm in his lap.

“Someone’s got excited,” he teases as his hands run up your thigh, thumb disappearing underneath the white material of your skirt.

“Don’t.” Your fingers fly to his wrist. “There are people.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Now you care about people watching?”

Your lips pull together in a confused pout.

“You never notice, do you?” He decided against sneaking his finger further between your legs. Instead, he smoothens the hiked-up fabric of your skirt, though there is not much to adjust. It’s a skimpy skirt, it barely covers you.

“Notice what?” Your sparkly heels distract you and you move your feet around, watching every crystal glitter. “You’re being confusing, Koo.”

“I’m not being confusing,” he denies.

“Yes, you are.” You shift your gaze to him. A subtle crease appears between your brows. “You told me you didn’t have time for a silly Halloween party and yet you showed up.”

Jungkook dislikes seeing you upset. He really does. It creates this unexplainable feeling of protectiveness that sits right behind his rib – annoying and intolerable, coupled with a hint of guilt. But seeing your tipsy form upset delights him the tiniest bit.

“I was able to finish off early,” he explains. “Thought I’d join you, ‘cause you wanted me to.”

“And you were pretty mean to Eunwoo.”

“He can fuck off. I really don’t care about him.” His tongue peaks out as he swipes it over his bottom lip, teeth biting at the skin with furrowed brows.

“You’re such a meanie sometimes.” You run your fingers over his eyebrows, relaxing them.

“Want me to show you how mean I can be?” He tilts his head, a challenging glint in his eyes.

“You can’t be mean to me,” you say, shaking your head as your fingers settle on his broad shoulders. “Been good today.”

“You’ve been driving me insane tonight.”

“Me? What did I do?”

Jungkook rises to his feet with you, and you stagger a little at the sudden movement, but he keeps a safe arm around you. “Always so clueless,” he mumbles as he leads you through the crowd.

“___!” someone yells your name.

You stop when you see Karina rushing towards you.

“I’ve been looking for you all night!” She hands you a drink

You look at her through apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m leaving already. I’ll see you soon!”

Jungkook takes the drink from you after you had a sip and downs the whole thing. He tosses the cup into a near trashcan as you step out of the house.

“Oh, no. I told Eunwoo I’d give him my number,” you remember. “Lemme go back.”

But Jungkook’s hand on the small of your back remains firm.

“He’s not stupid. He’ll find a way to contact your manager.” Jungkook is pissed and you’re not quite sure if you heard it right, but you think he adds a small “Doesn’t need my wife’s number.”.

“Can you imagine me in a drama?” You giggle as you think about it. “Would you watch it?” You turn your head. “You don’t like watching dramas.”

“Of course, I’d watch it. Immediately.”

Your eyes spark up and Jungkook wants to have this image of your forever ingrained in his memory. A literal angel staring at him as if he was the one that hung up the stars.

You stumble over your heels when you refuse to look ahead, pretty eyes still admiring him. “Careful, love.” He quickly steadies you.

He unlocks his car when you reach it and opens the door to the backseat for you. But instead, you pull open the passenger door and bend over to open the glove compartment.

“Are there condoms left here?”

You search for the familiar package, but Jungkook hurriedly pulls you back, shutting it closed along with the car door.

“Nothing left,” he replies. “Get in the backseat.”

As you get into the car and settle on your back, you ponder, “Didn’t realise how many times we’ve fucked in the car.”

You're not particularly interested in cars, but in rare – or apparently not so rare – moments like these, you appreciate the spaciousness of Jungkook’s G-Wagon.

Before Jungkook joins you in the car, he scans the surroundings, vigilant for any lingering onlookers. He doesn’t need you on the front page of every media outlet again. You’ve had enough of that lately, and that darn Instagram Story of yours likely fuelled the gossip mill again.

Jungkook barely uses social media. You’re the only reason he has the apps on his phone. He doesn’t follow anyone except you, only has your notifications on. During a short break he mindlessly clicked on the Instagram notification, expecting a cute picture of your angel outfit – you had texted him complaining about your ruined Barbie dress and he suggested you could use the angel wings he once saw you carrying into your wardrobe.

Safe to stay he expected everything, but a picture with fucking Eunwoo wearing fucking matching costumes.

As hours passed by, his anger didn’t simmer; instead, it prompted his decision to make a swift trip to the dollar store and join you at the party.

“You tend to conveniently forget when you’re a needy brat.”

“It’s ´cause I’m not a brat,” you reply with a huff, yanking at his tie. “Just a bit needy sometimes.”

“Hmm, just a bit needy?” His knuckle follows along your jaw, teasing you with his gentle touches and the mock sympathy seeping from his tone.

You look so cute lying here for him, with the angel wings peeking from your sides and the little sparkly pins adorning your hair. He just wants to fuck you silly.

You nod pliantly. An innocent smile blossoms on your face.

Jungkook’s hand disappears under the ruffles of your skirt, middle finger sliding over your pussy. You gasp, body twitching at the sudden touch.

“So wet already?” he sneers. “All for me?”

You grind your pussy against him, hungry for more.

“And so greedy for me.” He spreads your pussy lips, gently rubbing the pad of his finger over your sensitive clit. Jungkook moves your skirt up and an immediate glint surfaces in his eyes. “So pretty.” He slips two fingers in, smirking when you shake beneath him. “Baby’s sensitive, huh?”

He pumps his fingers into you and your teeth sink into your bottom lip. The alcohol running through your veins heightens your sensitivity to his touch. Everywhere he touches leaves a shimmering trail of tingles, enveloping your body in a cloud of euphoria, a sensation both fuzzy and dreamy.

“I want you.” You reach for his cock, but Jungkook seizes your wrist.

“Did I say you could touch?” His voice drips with condescension.

You weakly shake your head, a frustrated whine accompanying it.

“Use your big girl words.” His fingers stop moving and he completely removes them when you remain silent. “C’mon,” he urges, growing more impatient.

“No, you didn’t,” you sulk. Even dare to look at him through a frown.

“You don’t get to do anything," he tells you. He loses hie tie, wraps it around your wrist in a swift, practiced motion and ties them above your head. “Just lie there and look pretty for me.” He pulls his pants and briefs down, stroking his hard cock before he teasingly nudges his tip against your clit.

You watch him play with your pussy and you’re unable to keep the desperate moans from leaving your mouth, eagerly waiting until he aligns his cock to your entrance, slowly filling you up with his entire length. A throaty moan reverberates when he’s all the way in.

“Pussy’s so good at taking me.”

A gasp leaves your mouth as he stretches you out. “So good,” you mumble.

Jungkook waits until he knows you’re used to h is size before he starts moving his hips.

Your tits move in the confines of your corset. Jungkook’s head dips down and you feel his tongue slide over the swell of your boobs that peek out, teeth slightly grazing over your skin.

“Don’t bite,” you utter between moans.

But Jungkook does exactly that. Even sucks on your skin a little bit.

“You think you have a say on anything?” His hand squeezes your face. Traces of petulance lie in your eyes. His other hand grips your hips, fingers buried in your skin to fuck you fast.

It’s almost ridiculous how fast Jungkook gets you to your high. He knows exactly what to do to get your walls clamp around his cock, begging him to give you just a little bit more to push you off the edge.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, eyes falling closed as you the pleasure builds up in your tummy.

But then Jungkook suddenly stops moving. You open your eyes to find Jungkook smirking at your trembling body, amused when a shaky breath escapes you.

“Why would you do that? I was close!”

He pulls his cock out, tapping it over your clit.

“Hmm, no idea why I would do that?” he asks, pushing his cock back into your pussy in one swift motion.

“I haven’t done anything,” you say meekly, staring at the way he slowly fucks you. He could make you cum so easily.

Jungkook sniffs a laugh. “Can’t recall anything bad you did?”

He picks up on his pace and you can’t think at all, barely able to shake your head as more breathless moans fly past your lips.

“Posting a couple costume picture online? Fuck, ___ what were you thinking?” He hooks his hands underneath your thighs, pulling them up to fuck deeper. “Wanted everyone talking about you two? Wanted to piss me off?”

“No,” you whine. “Didn't mean it that way. We- we didn’t plan on it at all. Just – when we saw each other it was really funny, and I just took a pic of it.” You’re a babbling mess at this point, the ability to form comprehensible sentences gone once Jungkook sticked his cock in you.

“I don’t fucking care,” he curses. “You know how people perceive this stuff.”

“You don’t... don’t think it was a silly coincidence?”

Jungkook is flush against you. Your nails dig into your palms at how deep his cock is buried in you.

“I should find it silly?” A deep glower settles on his face and in a sick, naughty way it turns you on, making your pussy involuntarily squeeze around his cock. “Fuck, ___, do you wanna cum at all?”

“No, please,” you fuss desperately. “Wanna cum.”

“Then start behaving. Quit being a brat.”

“I am good,” you try to convince him.

Jungkook shakes his head in dismissal. “Put on an angel costume and yet you’re such a dirty girl.”

While you may not encapsule the right persona regarding the angel outfit, Jungkook undoubtedly fucks you like the devil. So mean and selfish, teasing and cursing at you.

“Wanna be – wanna be good for daddy.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, hand travelling up your body until it reaches your throat. “Then don’t disappoint me.” With his shiny Rolex around his wrist, he wraps his fingers around you, squeezing the tiniest bit. You feel the familiar outline of his wedding ring press to your skin.

Your legs wrap around him and you try not to poke him with your heels, but tears obstruct your view and you can barely control yourself, the aching feeling to come undone is back in your tummy.

“Jungkook,” you utter between little desperate puffs. “Wanna cum so bad.”

“Only when I allow you to.” Jungkook looks down at your defeated, crushed face with a smug smirk. “Can do that, right? My wife’s capable of that, hmm?”

Your eyes flutter shut. A single tear rolls down the corner of your eye. “Yes, I – I can wait.”

“That’s my good girl.” He leans closer, whispering it into your ear. “Cock so good it’s making you cry, huh?” His lips press to the corner your eye and he kisses your tear away.

The more he talks and whispers dirty word into your ear, the harder it becomes to resist the temptation to pull yourself back and cum on his dick. But you want to be good for Jungkook, want to hear him praise you for being a patient girl.

“Slow down, please.” Your bound wrists unconsciously attempt to free themselves, but Jungkook’s knot is too tight for you to undo it. You’ll cum soon if he continues at this pace.

“Nuh-uh.” He denies firmly. “You can take it. Show me how good you are.” His fingers dig deeper into your throat and your eyes open again. His brows are furrowed, an angry flush tinting his cheeks. “That’s it. Look at me – look at me when you cum.”

It crosses your mind to secretly cum, but Jungkook’s got a knack for spotting your telltale signs, so it wouldn’t be that sneaky after all. You did try to do that once though. You couldn’t properly sit the next day.

Jungkook swipes his tongue over his thumb before he slips his hand between your legs and starts to slowly circle your clit. A devilish grin sparks up his face.

“You wanna cum so badly, don’t you?”

“Please.”

“Wanna cum all over my cock?” His thumb moves faster. “Make a little mess?”

“Yes,” you pant. Pleasure seeps through your entire body and the effort to ignore the feeling becomes so exhausting, more tears fill your eyes.

“Then cum for me,” Jungkook demands, keeping a gentle trace in his voice. His gaze remains on your face and he watches you with greedy eyes as you come undone beneath him.

It happens almost instantly, like a string that snapped. You’re body shakes as your orgasm rumbles through you and you’re so sensitive you want to yank his hand away fromyour clit, but Jungkook enjoys seeing your writhe way too much to stop playing with your nub.

Shaky breaths escape you. Jungkook fucks you slower now, still rolling his hips into you with precision to hit your sweet spot.

“Doing so good, love.” The hand on your throat moves to your face, swiping away the tears. “So good for me.”

And just as you’re about to tell him you’re too sensitive, Jungkook removes his finger from your clit and pulls his cock out. He sits down and pats your thigh. “Come here.”

Despite being tired from just cumming, you’re hungry for him just by the sight of Jungkook stroking his cock. You move to sit on your thighs, tied up hands on your lap.

Jungkook gathers your hair in his hand before he moves your head down. “Open wide,” he instructs, guiding his wet cock into your mouth.

You taste yourself on his dick as your slide your tongue around him. Jungkook is close to cumming. You can feel it in the way his he impatiently pushes your head further down his cock.

“Gonna cum in your mouth.” Tiny moans fill your ear and you take as much of him inside your mouth as you can. “Fuck, just like that.”

Your mouth fills with hot, salty cum and you continue bobbing your head up and down, getting every drop of it.

“Good girl.” Jungkook pulls you away from his cock. You swallow his load as you look at him. He hums approvingly. “Wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asks, untying the know from your wrists. He rubs his fingers over the red marks.

“I’m fine. Didn’t hurt.” Your eyes close when he pecks your forehead.

After he pulls up his pants and briefs, Jungkook checks his phone. His fingers are quick as he types something.

“Who’s texting you at this hour,” you ask, curiously peeking over his arm.

“Just work. I left a bit abruptly.” He tucks his phone away before you can read anything.

Before more questions can leave your lips, he meets yours in a sweet kiss.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he says, patting your hair to tame the mess on your head. “Once we’re home, I’m gonna give your ass the attention it hasn’t got yet.”

[ohbueckers]

WHAT’S MY NAME? you got that something that keeps me so off balance. baby, you’re a challenge. let’s explore your talent.

THIS IS PART TWO! part one here. pairing, paige bueckers x tutor!oc. notes, blah blah blah place name proper name backstory stuff. warnings, sexual content & interruptions.

“—and she literally asked me what my name was. you heard that? and was dead serious, too.”

the team—well, most of the team burst out into a fit of laughter, their voices echoing through the locker room. it was game day—the same game paige had invited liana to. the same game the blonde paid for liana to go to. they’d only talked about a handful the past few days, the two of them shamefully finding excuses to text each other. the last thing they’d talked about was the game, the blonde confirming everything. in her own words, the girl needed a good ol’ uconn women’s basketball experience.

“man, what’s the point of being famous if people don’t even know who you are?” ice snickered, shaking her head as she pulled her jersey over her head. nika leaned back against her locker, her laugh coming out in short, breathy bursts as she tried to catch her breath.

paige let a small smirk tug at the corners of her lips, trying to play it cool. but deep down, it was bothering her more than she wanted to admit. she was paige bueckers. everyone knew her name. and yet here was this girl, this ridiculously pretty girl, who had managed to make her feel like just another student. that wasn’t supposed to happen, but it felt good in a way.

she pushed the thought away as the team continued to poke fun, turning her attention to her shoes, making sure they were laced up tight. they would be playing maryland, and although paige thought it would be an easy dub, she hoped liana wouldn’t be in viewpoint. she wouldn’t be able to focus that way.

“yo, paige.” kk’s voice cut through the laughter, her tone a bit more serious. paige glanced up, catching the way kk hesitated before she spoke again. “i don’t know if this matters to you or whatever, but… i think liana might be seeing someone.”

the words hung in the air for a moment, and paige’s grin faltered just slightly. she raised an eyebrow, waiting for kk to continue.

“like, there’s this girl me and aubrey saw her on campus with the other day. and she’s been checking her phone a lot when i’m around,” kk added, her voice low as if she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. but paige caught the implication, her attention immediately shifting to aubrey.

she turned to her teammate, her eyes narrowing just a bit. “you saw her too?”

aubrey looked up, hesitating for a moment before nodding. “yeah, i saw them together a couple of times. seemed like more than just friends, you know?” she tried to put it into perspective for her, but paige didn’t even look like she was listening.

for a second, paige let the thought sink in. another girl, huh? she didn’t know why, but it almost made her smirk. this wasn’t some random guy she could brush off. it was another girl—competition, maybe, but also an opportunity. it didn’t shake her confidence; it only made her more certain of what she wanted.

“bro. i don’t give a fuck about none of that.” her voice was a slight mumble. her tone easy, dismissive. she didn’t care who liana was seeing. if anything, the idea of a challenge made this more fun. “she can have my cake and eat it, too.”

more laughs, because paige truly is just ridiculous. then nika, ever the one to call out paige’s chaos, jumped in. “okay, messy boots. do you even have time for a girlfriend right now?”

“who said anything about a girlfriend?”

azzi raised an eyebrow from her seat, studying her best friend’s face. she couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but something told her that this girl, liana, was consuming her thoughts way more than a regular amount.

paige adjusted her jersey, her mind already shifting back to the game. she needed to focus. there’d be time to deal with liana later. for now, it was all about basketball.

fortunately, the team lucked out and the game against maryland went down exactly as paige had expected—an easy dub, with the final score settling at 80 to 48. she wiped the sweat off her brow as the final buzzer sounded, her grin widening as the cheers of the crowd washed over her.

after the game, paige made her way to the sidelines where a cluster of fans waited, eager for autographs and pictures. she always made time for this part. it was grounding, in a way, reminding her why she did this in the first place. plus, it was fun. she smiled as she signed a few basketballs, shoes, and chatting easily with her supporters. she even spotted a little girl in a uconn jersey who blushed so hard she could barely speak when paige hugged her. she loved these moments. they made the grind worth it.

“paige, you did amazing today!” one fan gushed, shoving a poster her way.

the chatter almost always overlapped. “appreciate it,” paige replied, scribbling her signature. she tossed a few jokes, snapped some pictures, and soaked in the attention. but even with the crowd in front of her, her thoughts kept drifting to liana.

luckily, the girl had been out of sight during the game, so she was mostly out of mind. mostly. paige couldn’t help but wonder where she was—if she’d seen the game or if she’d already left.

as if on cue, paige caught sight of a familiar figure approaching from the edge of the court. her heart did a little flip that she wasn’t ready to acknowledge, so she focused on finishing up an autograph, trying to play it cool. but as liana got closer, paige found herself fumbling with the sharpie, her fingers betraying her nerves. she cursed under her breath, quickly adjusting her grip and finishing it off.

finally turning to liana, she shot her the biggest smile, her hands playing with the cap. liana’s eyes swept over her, taking in the sight of paige in her jersey, her arms still tense from the game and too buff to stay cordial. the girl’s breath hitched, and there was a moment where paige swore she saw something in her gaze—something like admiration, maybe more. it made paige stand a little taller, a little more ego-fulfilled because of what she’d picked up on.

“well, look who decided to show up,” paige teased, twirling the sharpie between her fingers as if she hadn’t just fumbled it a second ago. “you come to support your student, huh? very admirable of you, teach.”

liana smiled, her eyes still lingering on paige’s arms purposefully before meeting her gaze. “gotta support my students, right? especially the ones who are a little… extra credit.”

paige chuckled, not being able to contain her shit-eating grin as she rocked back and forth on her feet. she tipped her head back, maintaining eye contact the way she always did. “extra credit? i’ll take that as a compliment.” paige patted her chest, more specifically, her heart.

“ you should,” liana shot back, her voice light, eyebrows raised and teeth showing in a way that made paige’s chest tighten. it almost felt too good.

for a moment, paige forgot about the crowd around her. it was just liana and her, standing there in the aftermath of a game that didn’t seem nearly as important as this moment. she peeped how liana’s gaze lingered on her jersey, her arms, and even the construction of her face.

“so, listen,” paige started, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. liana stepped closer, moving out of the way so someone could get past them. she couldn’t help but feel a little bit exposed under paige’s eyes, but she liked it. not only was she taller, but she looked down at her like she was prey. liana wondered if she looked at everyone like this while talking to them. “a few of us are heading to ted’s after this. you should come.”

liana hesitated, just like before, but paige could tell she was considering it as she stuttered. “i don’t know…”

paige didn’t let her finish. “bring her.”

liana’s eyebrows shot up, clearly taken aback. “what?”

“the girl you be with,” paige said, her voice steady and accent heavy. “she can come. jus’ want you there.”

liana’s expression softened. paige bueckers had been asking about her. if not that, someone had obviously known she’d cared enough to report back. liana continued to look at her, a mix of surprise and something else that paige couldn’t quite pin down. but whatever it was, it made her feel like she was winning. and paige liked to win.

“alright,” liana finally said, her lips curving into a small smile. “maybe i’ll stop by.”

“good,” paige replied, her grin returning full force. “i’ll see you there, then.”

ted’s was buzzing by the time paige and the team settled in. the usual crowd filled the bar—uconn students, locals. the team had claimed their spot, laughter spilling from their table as they recapped the game and teased each other over everything from missed shots to the post-game interviews. paige was in the middle of telling a story, spinning it out with her usual charm, but her eyes kept darting to the entrance. she was waiting, though she’d never admit it.

it had been about 30 minutes when she saw liana walk in. but she wasn’t alone. a girl followed close behind her, as expected, and paige took her time sizing her up, sucking in a breath.

naomi had brown dreadlocks that hung just past her shoulders, neat and well-kept. she wore a black tee that clung to her frame, paired with simple jeans and boots that looked worn in but sturdy. her presence was different from liana’s, who had changed into a mini skirt and a crop top—more solid, less playful. it made paige’s fingers itch to push at that calmness, to see what it would take to crack it.

as liana and naomi approached the table, paige kept her expression neutral, leaning back in her seat, arms crossed like she was just another teammate hanging out. no big deal. but anyone who knew her knew that she was anything but unbothered right now.

“hey, guys,” liana greeted, her voice warm as always as kk pulled her into an informal side hug, the rest of the team welcoming her normally, some a little more hyper with liquid courage. naomi stood beside her, offering a polite nod to the group.

paige took in the scene, her eyes flicking between the two. landing on liana, she let out a, “hey,” her tone casual. “nice to meet you.” that one was for naomi, paige’s head jerking up in an acknowledgment nod.

“same,” naomi replied, her voice smooth and even, her gaze briefly scanning paige before settling elsewhere.

introductions were quick, and soon enough, naomi found herself caught up in a conversation with aubrey about some mutual interest that paige couldn’t care less about. she watched as aubrey expertly engaged the girl, pulling her into the group with ease. aubrey had always been good at that. it was all too convenient, really, how aubrey was handling the distraction, and paige didn’t miss the cheeky smile aubrey sent her over naomi’s shoulder. it was a silent you’re welcome that paige shook her head at.

with naomi’s attention diverted, paige turned fully toward liana. the energy between them shifted slightly, becoming more charged now that there wasn’t anyone watching too closely. paige leaned in just a bit, enough to close the gap. “drinks?” the blonde suggested, chuckling at liana’s immediate nod as she slid in next to her, dragging the menu in front of her.

“you not a usual?” paige asked, eyebrows furrowing as she looked over her shoulder and at the menu. there was a sense of curiosity beneath her casual tone, a question of why someone like liana wasn’t a regular in a place like ted’s.

“nah, i don’t go out often,” liana replied. she picked up the menu, perfectly manicured fingers following under the words and scanning it like she was genuinely considering her options, but paige could tell her mind was elsewhere.

paige made the connection easily—it explained why she hadn’t seen liana around before. she leaned back slightly, taking a moment to study her profile. something she’d grown accustomed to. “makes sense,” she said, her voice more thoughtful now. “probably why i haven’t seen you around.”

liana nodded, still looking at the menu. “yeah, i’m usually busy with work. tutoring and stuff.”

paige’s curiosity peaked, and she turned her gaze and body more fully on liana. “so, how do you know naomi?” she asked, her tone carefully casual, though the question held more weight than she let on.

liana hesitated for a moment, then shrugged, her expression slipping into something a little more guarded. “we met through mutual friends. it’s… nothing serious,” she added quickly, her voice firm, as if she needed to make that point clear.

“right,” paige replied, her eyes lingering on liana, catching that hint of uncertainty beneath her words. was she lying? why’d she feel the need to?

liana met her blue hues, her lips curving into a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “right,” she echoed, though there was a slight tremor in her voice. they both knew what she was trying to convince herself of, and it wasn’t quite working.

a couple more drinks in, liana and paige had loosened up a mile. they talked about where they were from, life on campus, their experiences obviously extremely different, and the blonde had even gotten around to asking her about her tattoo. the one behind her ear. it was some intricate thing her mom used to draw before she passed—right before her first year.

somehow, the deep conversation topics hadn’t made anything awkward or less easy to talk about. it was too easy. and in all honesty, quite scary.

“you looked really good on the court tonight,” liana admitted, her voice softer, more personal as she let her eyes roam over paige. definitely liquid courage, but there was denying they’d had the same amount, and there was no mistaking the interest behind those words, the way her gaze lingered a little too long on paige’s arms, her legs.

“liana!” paige groaned, sitting back in her chair as a sheepish smile took over her face. it was the kind of grin that she tried to hide but couldn’t quite manage, not when liana was looking at her like that.

“what?” she responded, her tone innocent enough and high-pitched through a giggle, though her curls bounced with each turn of her head, making it clear she knew exactly what she was doing.

“you can’t say stuff like that,” paige muttered, though her grin only widened, betraying her words. she leaned in, elbows resting on the table, her eyes locked on liana’s like a challenge.

“why not?” liana shot back, leaning against her elbow, her voice dropping into a teasing whisper. somehow, her eyes looked more doe under the dimly lit bar, more seducing you could say. “you don’t like compliments?”

paige’s eyes narrowed, but there was no malice behind it—just the spark of a challenge she was more than willing to take on. “i like them just fine. but coming from you…”

she arched an eyebrow. “what about me?”

paige chuckled, shaking her head slightly. “you know exactly what i’m talking ‘bout.” she didn’t back down despite being ultimately defeated by liana’s boldness tonight. she could get used to it.

liana’s smile softened, the teasing edge still there, but there was something more genuine beneath it. “maybe i do,” she admitted quietly. she turned away, paige licking her lips as she studied the way her lips wrapped around her straw, and—yeah, that was it.

paige reached out, her fingers brushing against liana’s as she pulled her out of her seat, not bothering with excuses anymore. the need to be alone with her, to be away from naomi and her glances every couple minutes, was too strong to ignore. and it’s not like paige hadn’t thought about doing this since the moment she laid eyes on her, so…

liana was on her in an instant, pressing paige’s back against the single bathroom wall. her hands were everywhere—fingers threading into paige’s braids, tugging just enough to make her groan into her mouth. paige’s hands found liana’s hips before strolling down to her ass, lost in the sloppiness of the kiss and everything it brought—like another heartbeat. paige’s grip tightened on her thighs, pulling her closer, up into her arms and onto the sink.

liana was perched on the edge of the sink, legs pressed against the porcelain. it was a cold contrast, but the least of her worries. the kiss grew more desperate, more consuming, until paige pulled back slightly, her breath ragged, her eyes practically aching.

“you want this?” paige asked, her voice low, fingers already moving underneath liana’s skirt, seeking and teasing at the same time.

but just as her hand slipped higher, liana’s fingers wrapped around her wrist, stopping her. “it’s wrong,” liana whined slightly, as if it was hard to physically not do this. her eyes searched paige’s, trying to find a reason to stop, but it was clear she was struggling.

paige’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her breath still coming in short, sharp bursts. “she your girlfriend?”

liana shook her head, the motion almost frantic, her curls bouncing with the movement. “no,” she whispered, the word barely audible above the pounding of their hearts.

the blonde’s lips curved into a slow smile. “then there’s no home to wreck,” she murmured. the moment those words left her mouth, it was like their thoughts snapped back into place, sharper and more urgent than before.

liana didn’t protest again. instead, she pulled paige closer by the collar of her shirt, the movement making her gasp, tongue poking the inside of her cheek with a smirk. paige’s hand found its way back under liana’s skirt, fingers grazing over the fabric of her underwear, teasing her.. make her squirm.

“look at you,” paige taunted, watching liana’s reactions. she slid her fingers back and forth, deliberately avoiding where liana wanted her most. “so wet already…“

her breathing picked up, hands gripping the edge of the sink as she tried to ground herself, her body betraying her, though. “paige, please…” she whispered, the desperation clear as day.

paige’s reaction was more than just one of satisfaction. just earlier this week she’d been asking what her name was, and now she was moaning it. her fingers finally slipped beneath the soaked fabric, finding her heat. she traced the outline of her folds, slow and deliberate, making liana whimper with every touch. her face stayed pressed into the blonde’s shoulder, the smell of some expensive cologne and fresh laundry filling her nostrils. she wanted every part of her.

paige didn’t make her wait any longer. she slipped one finger inside, feeling the tight warmth as liana clenched around her. she added her middle finger, her movements slow and deep, making sure she felt every inch. “so tight for me… say that shit again.”

liana took a moment to process what exactly she wanted her to say, her mind not even on the right planet. catching on, she moaned out a soft, “paige…” and she groaned. she started to thrust, her fingers moving and stopping at the base where her silver rings were. they curled up at one point in a come hither motion, the sensation causing liana to screw her eyes shut, mouth open pornographically wide.

liana moaned loudly, her back arching as paige’s pace quickened, the sound of their bodies filling the small bathroom. her thumb found her clit, rubbing tight circles that had liana gasping, her nails digging into her shoulders. “yes… right there… don’t—mm.. stop,” liana panted, her voice breaking with every thrust.

paige’s fingers worked relentlessly inside of her, her pace quickening as she felt liana tighten around her. she leaned in closer, her breath warm, and whispered in her ear, “i’m fuckin’ splitting you open, baby. you feel that?“

liana could only moan in response, her body shaking as paige’s thumb circled her clit with perfect precision, eliciting a different sound between each movement. she was right there, so close to coming, her mind completely lost in the moment. but just as she felt herself tipping over the edge, a sharp knock echoed through the bathroom door. “liana? you in there?” naomi’s voice cut through to the both of them, pulling liana back to reality with a harsh jolt. if that wasn’t a slap in the face, she didn’t know what was.

“fuck,” she mumbled, frustration clear in her tone as she clung to paige, trying to keep herself grounded in the moment, even as her mind screamed for her to get a grip.

paige’s own frustration mirrored liana’s, looking back at the door. she pulled her hand back with a quickness, watching liana struggle to catch her breath, deciding to help her down from the sink. she steadied her as if nothing had just happened between them, proceeding to follow up with a few lingering kisses on liana’s lips. intimate, sure—but blondie couldn’t resist.

“imma’ text you, alright?” her words were casual, but the look in her eyes wasn’t.

liana nodded, trying to get her thoughts in order, but she was still reeling from how quickly paige could shift from intense to gentle. it was throwing her off balance, and she didn’t like that. how does she do that? how does she make me want her even more everytime she says something? she knew she needed to get out of there before naomi started asking questions, but the entire situation didn’t feel real. they’d have some unfinished business to take care of by fate.

at the door, liana couldn’t help but fake a pout, a small attempt to regain some control, even if it was just a tease. but then paige stuck her fingers in her mouth mindlessly, licking them clean with wide eyes. liana’s mind went blank for a second, her first instinct being a gasp, heat flooding to her cheeks in a swarm as she swatted at paige’s arm. “you’re so—” she started, but paige’s low giggle cut her off, dodging the hits. god, she’s infuriating. infuriatingly cute.

“go on,” paige urged with that damn smirk, and liana knew she was right. she needed to walk out first, leave paige to follow behind like nothing had happened.

with one last look, liana stepped out of the bathroom, her heart pounding. as the door closed behind her, she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.. not look suspicious.

naomi was waiting just outside, looking at liana with a questioning expression. “you good?”

she forced a smile, nodding quickly. “yeah, just… needed a minute.”

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (VIII)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 3,115

CW: MDI 18+, SMUT, p in v, loss of virginity, oral (f and m receving), fingering, possesivness, corruption kink, praise kink (use of good girl) toxic relationship, manipulation, mommy issues, co-dependancy issues, not proofread!

Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my Original characters

a/n sorry it took so long to update...but heres the wedding night!, next chapter will be a time skip!

(go to the divider by @zaldritzosrose, to skip the smut)

The feast passed over in the blink of an eye and before she knew it her and Aemond stood in his, or now their shared chambers.

Her belongings had been moved over during the ceremony, though they all seemed slightly out of place amongst his things.

Before, in the rare times she was in Aemond’s room, everything was always neat, nothing out of its designated spot, though his rooms lacked anything too personal, with no tapestries or rugs, nothing to permanent too show they were his.

Though it was no surprised that he seemed to have been own personal library in his rooms, with a whole wall dedicated to his collection.

Now the rooms seemed warmer, with his bookcase draped in her tapestries, the floor covered in her rugs. And his bed filled with her mountains for pillows and blankets. His room was bigger than hers, and it allowed everything, even her seemingly endless wardrobe to fit in effortlessly.  Though apart of it still felt strange. Perhaps it was how the furniture was so different from hers. Where her bed was carved with sea horses and dragons, his was bare, bar the one carving at the centre of his bed, a dragon, Vaghar.

Her vanity had been brought in, all her belongings placed perfectly, her new chemise placed carefully on the bed.

Her maid, Jeyne, had accompanied her. Taking of her dress and her jewels.

She already missed her gown, hating that she only got to where it for a few hours and would never be worn again.

“Would you like to keep it?” Jeyne asked softly, as she brushed through Aemma’s hair.

“yes” she nodded, it was such a beautiful dress, weeks and weeks had gone into the design alone. With its ivory coloured, laced with gold designs of dragons. The way the were sewn in away that they almost looked as if they were dancing, some beaded with emeralds, some with sapphires and the others beaded with black opal gems. “its too beautiful to be discarded off, may haps we could have the dress made into another gown.”

Jeyne smiled softly, “of course, princess”.

The door opened then, and Aemond entered.

Jeyne stepped back, curtsying before leaving the room.

They were alone, truly alone. It was different than all the times before, this time she stood before him, in a sheer chemise, that left almost nothing to the imagination.

“Aemond” she whispered as he stepped into the room.

He wore a rich red robe, where he had changed you did not know, but the sight of his bare chest peaking out from his robe, caused all thoughts to cease.

“Aemma,” he moved towards you, smiling, his eyes filled with something akin to a predator watching its prey. “you look stunning” he hummed, his hands coming up to play with the straps of your chemise.

You gave him a shy smile, “i-I so are you?” she said, nervously.

He hummed again, moving her strap to fall of her shoulders, “are you nervous?”                                

“yes”

He hummed, his hand reaching up to grab her breast, she gasped. “good” he whispered, “it will hurt, but only the first time, and then…then my sweet Aemma you will feel nothing but pleasure” he vowed, moving up to take her lips in his.

She moaned into his mouth, her feet stumbling backward until she landed on the bed. She gasped softly as she did. He leaned over her once they had reached the bed, his hand gasping her chin as he pulled her into another kiss, before pulling back and standing between her legs.

He kissed his thumb as he moved back to look at her, taking in her form. Her hair messed slightly, her chemise had fallen slightly, only one move away before falling off and revelling her breasts to him.

“off” he said, motioning her to stand up, nervously she did, her hands going to pull her chemises up, “no,” he said, stopping her, “I shall see all of you”

She looked down at the floor nervously, before reaching once again towards her straps.

As she pulled her chemise down, Aemond let out a loan groan.

“gods, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen” he said, causing her to blush.

“I want to see you to.”

Aemond smirked, reaching to pull of his robe, he bared himself to her. His full form, the muscles on his chest, his half erect cock.

She blushed even more taking him in. “I think you are most handsome, Aemond” causing him to smile, a true smile. “but I want to see all of you” she insisted, moving her hand towards his face. He grabbed her hand as she reached for his eye patch. “please” she asked.

He hesitated, “why?” he almost sneered, “tis your brothers fault I lost it”

“but its not mine.” She sighed, “please Aemond, I wish to see my husband, all of him”

He sighed, before letting go of her wrist allowing her to remove his eyepatch.

He had expected her gasp in fear, retreat away from him. Instead, though she gasped, it was more in awe than anything else.

“is that a sapphire?” she asked coming to caress his scar. He nodded. “its beautiful” she sighed, before placing a soft kiss below it.

She smiled softly, as she took a step back, “have you…?” she asked, shyly, she did not know much of what was to come, bar what her septa had told her, and though she grew jealous of the idea of Aemond lying with another woman, a apart of her hoped he had, hoped he could guide her and teach her. All she wanted was to please him, make him happy, and how could she if she didn’t have him to show her how?

He nodded, smirking slightly, “of course, wife” he nodded, moving to grasp her chin, “but worry not non of them shall ever compare to you” he said as he kissed her once more. He held her face to him, gripping the back of her neck, his tongue teasing entrance into her mouth before finally pushing his tongue into her mouth. And ever submissive, Aemma allowed him to dominate her mouth. She moaned softly into his mouth, as she once again laid back on the bed, his body effortless slotting over hers.

His mouth slowly left hers, moving to kiss the nape of her neck before slowly dropping to his knees.

He sent her a smirk, as he buried himself between her thighs.

He licked her folds teasingly at first, savouring the taste of her.

She was growing wetter and wetter with each motion of his tongue, moaning softly as he started to focus his ministration on her clit.

He gripped her hips as he gave fast and quick licks to her clit, his eyes meeting hers as she gripped the bedding in pleasure.

“Husband” she moaned, and it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, for so long he had worshiped the sound of his name on her lips, but hearing her call him her husband? The possessive in him became tenfold. She was his, in the eyes of the gods and the realm, she was his and he was hers and nothing could change that. And gods did he love it, love her.

His tongue moved faster, realising in her moans. His arm still griped her wait, stopping her from moving his hips, though his second arm left her waist, moving his fingers to tease her whole.

She was tight, completely untouched. She gasped as he entered her, her walls clenching his fingers as they entered her.

Groaning as he imagined how they would soon feel wrapped around his cock.

Pumping his fingers in and out of her at a leisurely pace, as he sucked at her clit.

“Aemond” she moaned this time, reaching her hand to grip his hair.

He groaned as she did, before reaching out to grip her hand alongside her waist.

His fingers clenched around him, her peak approaching.

Her moans came more present, getting louder and louder before she let out a high-pitched moan, her whole body reacting as she came.

Aemond moved back slowly, taking in her messy hair and bliss ridden face.

She was out of breath, collapsing fully on the bed.

“wife” he groaned, his body moving over hers.

She smiled softly as she looked up at him.

“is that what it always feels like?” she asked, breathless.

He smirked, “It can”

“I want to do the same to you?”

He looked unsure at her request, though he had imagined fucking her face countless times, he craved to feel her hot cunt wrapped around his cock.

But as she moved up to kiss him, her hand slowly reaching down to grab his cock. He groaned as she nervously touched his cock, her face determined to please him.

“Aemma.” He groaned, as his face buried himself into the nape of her neck.

He shoved himself off her, her hands slowly falling from his cock to her thighs as he moved.

“up” he demanded, as she nervously stood from the bed. ”kneel”. She did so hesitantly, looking up at him with nervous doe eyes.

The sight alone was enough for him to cum.

his hand gripped her jaw as she looked up at him, his thumb pushing into her mouth slowly. “suck” he demanded, as her reached to tuck her hair behind her ear.

She complied without complaint, gently sucking on his thumb as he pushed it into her mouth. He groaned as she did, moving his thumb out of his mouth.

“kiss it” he said, pushing his hips so his cock moved closer to her face.

She looked up at him unsure as she kissed his tip. Her lips were soft an gentle as they kissed the tip of his cock.

“again” he groaned, as she kissed it again, her hands laid pliantly on her knees , her hair now gripped between his hands as he made a makeshift bun as he held her head to his cock as she started to pepper kisses across his cock.

“fuck, Aemma” he moaned, “open” he said, and as she did, he slowly pushed his cock between her lips.

her mouth case warm, the feeling of her mouth felt almost as delightful as he imagined the walls of her cunt would feel like wrapped around his cock.

her hands slowly moved up from where they say on your knees. One hand gripped his waist, in an attempt to stabilise herself as Aemond moved her head to bob up and down his cock. the other went to reach for the base of his cock, he barley fit in her mouth, and as she gagged around his cock, causing him to groan and the eyes rolling back.

“fuck” he groaned again, “use your hand to grab what cannot fit” he moaned, moving your head faster, “move it up an- yes like that, good girl” he moaned as she started to motion her hand up and down on the part of her cock she couldn’t fit into her mouth.

He moved his hand to grip the back of her neck, his hips now thrusting forward as he slowly started to fuck her face. Though he didn’t for long as before he knew it he could feel his own peak approaching.

He tore himself from her mouth, causing her to groan at the loss of him in her mouth.

She looked up at him, bewildered, before reaching forward in an attempt to take him back in her mouth.

“no, Aemma” he laughed, pulling her body up from the floor. “on the bed.” He said, as he himself moved to lay back, patting the space beside him.

She crawled across the bed to him, stopping in front of him. His legs were spread, and she crawled into his lap, softly kissing his lips.

She could taste herself on his tongue and she was sure he could taste himself on her own tongue.

She could feel his cock between her thighs, edging closer to her cunt.

“lay back” he said against her lips.

Laying down on the bed, Aemond once again crawled on top of her. His hand moved down to her cunt, his finger gathering up her wetness as he once again teased her entrance, he pushed two fingers into her slowly, stretching her more so that he had before, preparing her for his cock.

She moaned as he did so, the stretch delightful as he pumped her full, but she still craved more, she craved his cock.

“please” she begged.

“please what?” he hummed, pumping her slowly.

“I want you” she moaned.

“you have me.” “no…I want your…your cock” she whispered the last word, feeling dirty from saying it .

“my cock?” he teased, as he removed his fingers from her.

“Yes!” she groaned, moving to grab him, “please”

He hummed, smiling softly as he positioned himself between her thighs.

He kissed her softly as he slowly pushed into her.

Her face scrunched discomfort as he stretch her and broke her maidenhead. He pushed into her slowly, allowing her to adjust to his length.

He moaned as he fully entered her, her tight walls encasing his cock in such a delightful way.

“gods, Aemma” he moaned, as he buried his head into the nape of her neck.

“move, please” she begged after a moment, her hands moving to grip his arms, as he slowly started to thrust his hips into her. He started of slowly, allowing her time to adjust, but as she started to roll her hips into his. He began to pick up his face, slowly setting a fast rhyme. His hand moving from her sides to grip the head board as he started to pound into her.

Her moans grew louder and more high pitched, her legs moving to wrap around his waist.

“keep your eyes on me” he groaned as she closed her eyes in pleasure, her legs fell from his hips, her eyes fully fixed on his as she started to reach her peak.

The eye contact was like nothing she had experienced before. His eyes were dark, possessive, and yet also filled with love. The pure amount of emotions in her eyes pushed her to competition, as she let out a high pitched squeal, her arms gripping his pack, living small scratches as she came.

Her cunt wrapped tightly around his cock, causing Aemond o let outa moan of his own as he worked her through her orgasm, before finally letting go himself, filling her with his cum.

They got little sleep that night, with scarce few minutes before being awoke once more to heated touches, her cunt stretches with his cock in more ways than she could count. She have never felt anything like it, the pleasure beyond imaginable.

As she awoke now she traced the lines of Aemond’s face gently, taking in his beauty. He was truly spectacular, all sharp lines and edges, his silver hair and purple eye.  She envied his beauty, how Valyrian he looked and how little she did.

She hoped there children would inherit his beauty and not hers. She adored the idea of carry a little Aemond.

She smiled softly as she played with his hair, only stopping when a knock was sounded on her door.

Grabbing her robe, and quickly brushing her hair she opened the door, only to face her mother.

She smiled softly as she greeted her, “mother” she said, motioning her to step inside, her mother grimacing slightly as she took in Aemond’s sleeping from. “what can I do for you?”

Her mother sighed, looking down in shame “ we are leaving…now”

“what?”

“I- we cannot be here much longer, the- we are unwelcome so we have decided it best to leave.”

“but I just got married, I thought you would stay at least a few more days”

“I know…im sorry”

Aemma scoffed, “sorry? You do not write me, show up for a few days and then leave again! You are not sorry! You just don’t want me! I doubt you ever did!” she cried in aguish.

“no.. no Aemma, dōna riña, that’s not true.” She moved towards, her reaching for her hands only to be met with Aemma’s rejection, nyke bardutan ao naenie letters, kīvin zijo.  nyke dōrī jiōraton aōhon se nyke pendagon bona se greens- alicent se aemond hid zirȳ hen ao naejot gūrogon ao hen nyke” her mother spoke, chaing to high valyrian as if to keep what she ahd to say a secret.

i wrote you many letters, i swear it. i never got yours and i think that the greens- Alicent and Aemond hid them from you to take you from me.

“daor daor, nyke ȳdra daor belive ao!”

No no, I don’t believe you!

“iksan telling se truth, ñuha jorrāelagon, emā issare torn hen nyke se kostan daor bare naejot ūndegon ziry.  eman issare vēttan ezīmagon iā issaros se kicked hen ñuha own lenton, istin henujagon”

i am telling the truth, my love, you have been torn from me and i can not bare to see it. i have been made into a stranger and kicked from my own home, i must leave.

Aemma scoffed, “nyke- nyke, aōha verdagon bē excuses muña! Aemond vestās ao would, skoro syt shouold nyke believe ao? especially skori īlē sīr adere naejot jikagon nyke qrīdrughagon?”

i-i, your making up excuses mother! Aemond said you would, why shouold i belive you? especially when you were so quick to send me away?

Her mother let out an irritated sound, “have I lost you complete, Aemma?” she asked sadly “I have been so blind, I should have come with you, should have stayed here-“ “then stay!”

“I can’t”

“I don’t understand! What have I done?” she asked, she was confused she didn’t know what she had done, why her own mother couldn’t stay, why she had left her.

“i- you have done nothing” her mother insisted.

“so you are leaving just because you do not like me? Or is it because of Aemond? You were always against our friendship, and yet you were the one who proposed we wed! you are so-“

She was cut off by Aemond, their shouting waking him from sleep, “get out!” he demanded, “all you do is upset my wife, I shall not have it!”

And her mother left, with no complaint only sad eyes and the word goodbye. The way she said it made her feel as if her mother felt like she had lost her forever, as if this was there final goodbye.

Next part

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[sweettea-and-honeybutter]

Take You There II

Song that inspired this chapter...

A/N: Whewwww thank you for your patience 🥲💕 um I actually don't know what's happening to me but im actually enjoying? writing a slow burn?!? I just really love what's happening here in their little world. The whole story is inspired by HER's Take You There, but I love music so much not to have a different song on replay for every chapter I write. As always your feedback, likes, and rebloggs are so appreciated 🥰

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Reign Adisa (black female OC)

Warning: its a smidge explicit in the beginning, but other than that its a steamy, slightly angsty fluff

Word Count: 5,791 🥴

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Chapter 2

Reign tried to divide her attention evenly between her chatty client explaining her plans for an anime sleeve, and the fine details she was trying to capture on the girl's bicep. Her 19th birthday was right around the corner and Reign had the pleasure of giving her her first tattoo, a cute black cat from Sailor Moon that showed up beautifully on her tan skin. But if she were completely honest, her mind was also distracted with persistent thoughts of one Terry Richmond.

He texted her a few hours after he’d left, asking her to give him a list of places she liked and he’d pick one to take her too, still wanting to surprise her but needing to be pointed in the right direction being so new to the area. She didn’t expect him to keep up the conversation after that, but he texted her all night and day. His texts were short and straight forward, even when complimenting her scent and noting how it lingered on his clothing. But he was consistent and inquisitive and she liked it, knowing he was much warmer in person. 

Reign went through the motions of wrapping her client’s tattoo, nodding along as the woman gushed over how perfectly she’d captured Luna’s personality. But Reign’s focus kept slipping—an almost electric feeling humming in her chest, like a live wire sparking whenever she thought of Terry. After her last client left, he’d be there to pick her up. The thought of being close to him again—close enough to catch that smile that seemed like it was meant just for her, to fall into those eyes whose intensity shifted like the sky before a storm—made her heart race in a way she hadn’t ever felt before. She’d been attracted to plenty of men and women alike, but the anticipation of discovering everything there is to know about Terry had her buzzing with energy.

Reign walked her client to the door, trying her hardest not to rush the oblivious girl, and as soon the door shut behind her, Reign turned and sprinted to the bathroom, eager to freshen up and change clothes for the night. She shot Terry a quick text letting him know to come on in when he gets there and proceeds to strip out of her comfy clothes. She reapplied the tonka bean body butter she’d put on earlier today fresh out of her morning shower, and then hit all the warm areas on her skin with her signature jasmine perfume, hoping that throughout the night her scent wafts to Terry's nose every time his gaze makes her body flush. 

All the places she’d sent Terry were pretty lowkey, so she kept her outfit for the night simple-a black linen button down paired with a forest green suede skirt, a black belt with a gold buckle, and knee high black boots with a sturdy heel that was comfortable to walk in. She began putting on the layers of her fit, panicking when she realized she packed her nice lace panties and totally forgot to grab the matching bra. She turned her duffle bag upside down grumbling to herself “..my titties are too big for this shit” as she frantically looked through all the belongings she’d brought with her knowing she wouldn't have time to go back home after work. Still rummaging through her clothes, she heard her front door chime, opening and closing softly. Quiet steps moved around her studio and she cursed under her breath, still topless while quickly zipping her skirt up and clearing her throat.

“Um Terry?” she hated how loud and high her voice came out, it echoed around the tiny bathroom and she could hear the nerves in her shrill tone.

“Reign.” his deep voice sounded close, and amused, and it sent goosebumps traveling up her body.

“I-I’ll be out in just a second!” 

She hurriedly shrugged on her shirt, buttoning it and stylishly tucked it into her skirt. Her racing thoughts drowned out any response he might’ve given from the other side of the door. The soft material brushed her skin, and she sighed as her nipples peaked, prominent against the fabric. She’d been aiming for a cutesy vibe, something mindful and demure as the youngins would say. The snug fit of her blouse told a totally different story. 

After a moment’s hesitation, she undid the top three buttons, letting the fabric fall open just enough to reveal the soft swell of her cleavage. The look suddenly felt intentional, the perfect balance of bold and effortless. She bit her lip, glancing at her reflection; it was daring, different, but she couldn’t deny that she looked damn good. With no time left to second-guess herself, she added a few simple accessories, winged liner, mascara, and gathered her braids into a playful half-up, half-down style.

~~~~~~~~

Reign danced around all of Terry’s thoughts since he walked into her world. He truly intended for this tattoo to be a sweet reminder of the bond he shared with his cousin, and while it did serve that purpose, he can’t deny how his mind instantly goes to Reign whenever he looks at it. The gentle way she’d look up at him every so often while she worked, the way she quietly held space for him to unload the grief he carried, her sympathetic affection somehow coaxing him to be open when he’d vowed to close himself off from the rest of the world—he didn't yet have the words to tell her how much that moment meant to him.

Terry knew he was a goner the moment he caught himself grinning at her texts. He didn’t always know what to say, but he didn’t care—he just wanted to be in her thoughts, to have her thinking of him as much as he was thinking of her. Bit by bit, he was learning the quirks that made her who she was. She was a surprisingly animated texter, dropping memes and emojis that made him laugh harder than he’d expected. She had a sweet tooth, a green thumb, and a case of insomnia, which he discovered only after he’d fallen asleep trying to respond to something funny she’d sent at two in the morning. Each new detail felt like a tiny gift, pulling him in deeper than he’d ever planned.

The next day in the early afternoon he headed to the gym to burn off some of his restless energy. He wasn’t exactly nervous, just eager to see her again. A lightness had crept into him that he hadn’t felt in years, a tentative hopefulness about this new city and all it could bring. He reminded himself not to get attached to any particular outcome with her, promising to stay present, to let things unfold naturally. But already, he knew she wasn’t someone he wanted to experience lightly. He wanted to savor every moment, to truly explore who she was, layer by layer.

That thought alone had his desire for her spreading throughout his being like a wildfire. He caught himself wondering if her skin was as soft as it looked, feeling a need to trace his fingers over each tattoo she wore and memorize every curve of her body. She was so beautiful, yet somehow guarded beneath that serene aura. She seemed to move through life unfazed, as if no one could intrude on the calm she’d carved out for herself. Her quiet self-assurance was so enticing to him, and he hoped she’d keep letting him close enough to discover all that she was.

Reign gave him a good variety of places they could go to tonight, little did she know that in due time he planned to go to each of those places with her. But for the night he chose the modern looking food hall because it had so many appetizing options for them to try, and plenty of cozy seating options where he could have her all to himself—no persistent waiters interrupting their conversations, no noisy couples sat too closely to them, he could practically have her all to himself.

The sun was setting as Terry showered, and he wondered if he’d ever get the chance to have Reign in this steamy space with him. He needed to have a clear head when he was with her, needed to have self control to patiently wait for her to let him in. So he leaned back against the warm tile and stroked himself, groaning at the memory of her elusively dark eyes and the idea of tasting the plump lips she chewed on insistently. He let his fantasies guide his hands, thrusting into his fist faster and faster as they became more vivid. Terry cursed and came at the mental image of her writhing under him moaning his name. As he caught his breath and finished his shower he hoped that was enough to keep his thoughts tame for the rest of the night.

Terry dressed quickly, eager to see his—no, to see Reign. He shrugged into a black polo, leaving the top button open, the shirt framing his muscles in a way he hoped would have her eyeing him like she did yesterday, when she thought he wasn’t looking. Dark jeans and black Off-White sneakers completed the fit, and he sprayed cologne over every place he imagined her lips brushing. Grabbing his leather jacket, keys, wallet, and the plant he’d picked up for her earlier, he left his apartment in a hurry, heart already a step ahead.

~~~~~~~

“Okay, whew! Sorry you had to wait! I left something at home, and—” Reign came rushing out of the bathroom, words tumbling to a stop as she spotted Terry leaning back against a chair, one arm draped casually behind him, the other hand resting in his pocket.

They paused, eyes dragging slowly over one another, each undressing the other in their minds. Reign noticed his gray eyes darkening to a stormy, sinful shade, his easy grin widening as he took in her outfit. She couldn't help notice the way the muscles in his thighs flexed as he straightened to his full height, letting out a low whistle.

“Well, don’t you look nice, pretty Reign.” Terry didn’t miss the slight wobble in her step as she closed the space between them. His gaze traced over every detail, his mouth watering at the familiar sweetness of her perfume.

“Yeah,” she breathed, stopping just in front of him and tilting her head up with a soft smile, “you clean up nice too, soldier.” His eyes flicked from her glossed lips back to those warm brown eyes, and he fought the urge to lean in and taste her right there.

Terry pulled himself from his thoughts, his voice soft as he said, “I got something for you.” With a small smile, he revealed the Calathea he’d been hiding behind his back, and Reign’s pretty eyes went wide behind her glasses, a look of genuine delight spreading across her face. The bag she was holding dropped with a careless thud as she gingerly took the beautiful plant into her hands.

“Holy shit!” she whispered, stepping back to admire it more fully, her voice bright with excitement. Terry couldn’t help but feel a spark of pride, knowing he’d chosen well.

"I don’t know anything about plants,” he admitted with a grin, “but I wanted to get you something unique and beautiful… this one felt like you.”

Reign’s smile, wide and warm, made his mind go blank for a moment, and made his dick twitch awake unbeknownst to her. Her hand found his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I love it! I shall call her Maria!” she said, grinning as she skipped over to her desk, carefully setting the plant down under the warm glow of a lamp. He watched her every movement, eyes glued to the sway of her hips and the soft gleam of her exposed skin. When she finally turned back to him, her eyes sparkled, and his chest tightened at his growing feelings for her.

Terry cleared his throat to dissipate the emotion in his voice and picked up her bag, ever the gentleman. He turned his large body halfway towards the door saying “I’m ready when you are.” and Reign nodded happily, turning off lights here and there as she walked past him and he followed a few steps behind, trying not to crowd her space but feeling he was unable to escape the gravitational pull of her aura. She gave her studio one last glance before she opened the door for them, turning to lock up her space and jumping slightly at the feeling of Terry’s large hand on her hip. His touch was warm and grounding, and she let him pull her into his side towards his sleek matte gray BMW x6 M.

~~~~~~~

The drive to Lyric Market was brief but felt like an eternity for Reign. She couldn’t sit still, the scent of his cologne enveloping the car—woody, slightly spicy, and irresistibly masculine. Every breath made her squirm as she fought the urge to melt into a puddle right beside him. When he shot her a curious look, she could only manage a tight smile, acutely aware of her lack of subtlety but unable to play it off.

Terry handed her his unlocked phone, declaring her the DJ for the ride. As the melodic vocals of Sinead Harnett filled the air, Reign let the music express what her tongue couldn't. She watched him with yearning eyes as he reached one long arm toward her, hesitatingly hovering over her thigh before finally resting his hand on the exposed skin just below the hem of her skirt. He didn’t apply any pressure, merely grazing his thumb in mindless circles, affirming his earlier thought that she was as soft as she looked. Reign felt warmth pooling between her legs, almost overwhelming, and she bit her lip, glancing out the window and reminding herself to breathe.

Sensing he might be crossing a line, Terry began to retract his hand, but before he could pull away, she gently covered his with her own, their fingers entwining and remaining that way for the rest of the fifteen-minute drive.

~~~~~~~

Reign inhaled the crisp night air deeply as soon as he opened her door, finally easing her mind away from the depraved movies of them playing in her head. Terry gave her one of his fleeting smiles as he returned his hand to her hip, gripping her tighter when he thought she shivered from the chilly air. 

“I’m so happy you chose the food hall!” Terry was finding it hard to look anywhere else that wasn’t Reign. His gaze was intently on her as they walked in, watching her eyes dance under the bright lights as she told him of the waffles from this one place here that she’d been thinking about all day. 

He leaned his head down closer to hers as they walked towards the restaurant, unable to stop himself as his lips grazed the shell of her ear, 

“I couldn’t get you out of my head this whole day, and you’re telling me all you could think of is-” he paused dramatically, voice dropping to an impossibly deeper octave, “waffles?”

His incredulous tone made Reign snort out a laugh, giving him a cheeky smile as she just barely gave him a side eye.

“You haven’t tried these Terry. The magnificence of the Belgium waffle will change your life!” He doubted it, but he wasn’t going to ruin her fun. 

“I’ll try some of yours then, I think I’m feeling ramen for myself tonight.” Reign just nodded and stepped up to the iPad at the counter to place her order. Terry’s hand moved up her hip, to her back, playing with her hair while he looked around the place for them to sit. He turned his attention back to her when felt her start to remove her tiny purse from her shoulder, and he scoffed, gently moving her out of the way so he could pay for her food. 

“I don’t even know why you brought that like I was gonna let you pay for your food when I asked you out.” his displeased voice almost sounded like a growl and Reign found that deeply amusing. 

“Well I didn’t want to assume, but thank you Terry.” He nodded and grabbed her hand, guiding her towards the ramen spot while her order was being made. It was her turn to observe him under the bright lights in the building. His warm hazelnut complexion created a beautiful contrast where he held her hand, and she admired how their outfits uncannily complemented each other. The wide expanse of his back moved confidently as he walked, and she wondered what it’d be like to wrap her legs around him, if her thighs would get fatigued from squeezing because he was just that wide. 

Reign didn’t really hear anything he said to the restaurant worker as he ordered, too lost in her head imagining that deep voice saying all sorts of nasty things to her. She stood close behind him, feminine frame being concealed behind his massive body, so it’s no surprise the young woman behind the counter didn’t see her, and flirted shamelessly with Terry. 

Terry looked absolutely bored as he listed off the things he wanted, growing more irritated by the second and Reign was none the wiser, eyes trailing down to his ass because really, what else was she to do back there? Once he paid, Terry turned away from the worker who lacked all decorum, rejecting the receipt that had her number on it, and looked down at Reign who had the cutest caught expression on her face. His face softened as he pulled her a little ways away from the restaurant but positioned her so she could be seen, and he swallowed a laugh at the way the worker huffed and walked away. 

They waited for their food and talked about their day. He listened attentively, loving how passionately she spoke of her work. He wanted to touch her as she spoke of all the tattoos she did that day, but he noticed outside of her studio, she moved a lot, kind of slowly swaying to some beat in her head as she talked. The subtle shift of her skirt, and the swell of her breasts moving beneath her shirt, was hypnotizing, and he hung onto her every word.

They got their food and he carried it for them, leading them upstairs to a high backed booth that faced away from the other patrons and activity. They sat so close to each other their thighs touched, and neither of them minded. Terry was just taking out his chopsticks when his ears were blessed with the most wanton moan, and he looked down at Reign, his eyes round and mouth hanging open slightly. 

Reign admittedly forgot where she was, as soon as she took a bite of her waffled monte Cristo. She’s just now realizing she’d been too distracted to remember to eat much today, and the sweet and savory combination on her taste buds made everything else fade away. Yes, even Terry himself. 

“Mmhmm, that’s what I wanted.” She was too hungry to be embarrassed, too far gone in her ecstasy to be modest about her pleasure. Reign slowly blinked her eyes open, chewing carefully to savor every bite and looked over at Terry with a dopey smile. 

His unnerving stillness made her freeze. She’d never seen his eyes so dark, and his upper body was slightly leaning over her, his head cocked to the side so he could peer at her face, not wanting to miss a single second of her. She brushed some of her braids from her face, her smile turning sheepish. 

“Sorry, I am staaaarving” she tried to make light of the moment with her tone, trying to ignore the hungry look in his eyes so she, herself, didn’t lose all self control. “Try some!”

He didn’t say anything, just watched her cut him a piece, and opened his mouth obediently when she brought the food up to his lips. Her eyes were glued to his mouth as his tongue darted out to lick powdered sugar from his bottom lip, and she couldn’t help how her fingers grazed his jaw lightly when she pulled her hand back.  

He closed his eyes finally and moaned much quieter, breathing deeply, not at the taste of the food, although it was good, but at the amount of restraint he was exerting. He wanted to eat her right on the table. In due time he was telling himself. He swallowed, exhaled, and opened his eyes playfully sizing her up. 

“Yeah that was life changing pretty Reign.” He turned to his food, and began eating, leaving her to watch his prominent jaw as he chewed his own food, as if they both weren’t dangerously close to causing a scene just moments ago. 

The rumble in her tummy brought her back to her plate, and she continued to eat happily, more aware and mindful of her volume. He finished much faster than she did, and she insisted that he share her fries with her. He wrapped an arm around her, playing with the edge of her skirt and she commented on physical touch being his love language. 

“Hmm I think all of them would be my love language for the right person” he fed her a fry and continued “I assume your main one is words of affirmation?”

Reign gave him a funny look. “You calling me a yapper?” And he barked out a surprised laugh.

“No Reign, it was just a guess” she rolled her eyes half heartedly pushing her empty plate away.

“Nah the truth is out pretty boy, now you need to buy me a drink to get back in my good graces” he laughed at her again as he stood and pulled her up out of the booth. He was about to lead her to the bar when she stopped him.

“Nope, over here.” And she dragged him, he purposefully let his feet become heavy because watching her struggle was amusing, over to a place where they could get milkshakes. 

“Your sweet tooth is insatiable pretty girl” she smiled up at him and asked for strawberry and offered to split it with him, and he got the clichéd 2 straws. They sat on the diner style barstools and passed the milkshake back and forth, talking about all sorts of things. 

She told him about her plans to soon share her studio with more artists, and her dreams of hosting community events there. He admitted to feeling a bit lost, but determined to find more purpose for his life after everything that happened. They asked each other so much as the time pleasantly passed. She avoided answering questions about past relationships, and he avoided questions about his family.

Sudden thunder booming outside made her jump and caused Terry to pull her close to him, losing his train of thought at her hand on his chest, right over his racing heart. Reign groaned looking toward the front door. 

“I forgot I walked to work today, I don’t remember rain being in the forecast” Terry tried not to look too eager at that. 

“You know I gotchu” he pulled her up out of her seat and gently tugged her skirt down from where it slid up her thick thighs, “I can take you home.”

~~~~~~~

The rain was relentless outside. They were so consumed by each other earlier, they didn’t even realize how much it was coming down.  Reign invited Terry inside, not yet ready for him to leave despite how late it was, and he followed her inside telling himself he’d be on his best behavior for her.

Her place was cozy and inviting, much like her studio, and smelled just as sweet as her. She had an apartment on the third floor, the complex nestled against a wooded area, giving her place an almost treehouse feel to it. He watched her move comfortably around her home, dick growing hard unsurprisingly at the domestically of it all.

He heard a little bell jingle and watched a small orange cat with a polka dot bow tie collar trot towards him from down the hall. 

“I forgot to ask you if you like cats! That’s Kento, he’s very sweet.” Reign smiled fondly at the fluffy little thing she loved so much,  and observed Terry crouch down to let Kento smell his hand. After he apparently passed the vibe check, he picked the kitty up and held him in the palm of his hand, chuckling at the loud purrs leaving it. 

“Kento huh? I might steal you away in my pocket” Reigned faked a gasp and snatched her son back, setting him down on his palm tree shaped cat tree.

“You’ve been on my mind all day, and all you want to do is kidnap my only child from me?” she mocked his tone from earlier, making her voice comically deep.

He stood to his full height, casually putting his hands in his pockets and walking around her chairs in her living room not looking at her as he states “that's not all I want to do Reign.”

She swallowed from where she stood by her patio door, watching him drift closer to her as he looked at all her things. He finally stopped in front of her, a playful seriousness on his face as he asked her “what are you hiding out there?” He tilted his head at her patio and she reached behind her to open the door. 

The rain slowed and the thunder was slowly rolling away from them, the trees by her balcony preventing her patio from getting wet, and she turned on the twinkling fairy lights that adorned her railing. She had soft turf covering the cement, and lush hanging plants gently swinging near a wide outdoor sofa. Terry sat down and spread his arms across the back of the chair, looking up at her, looking straight out of a fantasy. She stood with her back to the railing, not sure what to do under such an intense gaze. 

“Oh um-” her voice came out high and she cleared her throat, trying to calm her nerves, “how’s your new piece holding up?” she gestured to his chest, and he grinned, dropping his arms to unbutton the rest of his polo.

“You tell me.” She was helpless to fight the command in his deep voice, its timbre drawing her near as she sat next to him, placing a hand on his broad thigh to brace herself as she leaned up towards him. Her heart thundered like the night sky as she used her other hand to move his shirt. Terry watched her like a cat would a mouse, hungry and patient. She gave him a proud little smile, knowing he was following all her aftercare instructions seeing as how it looked really good still. 

“It looks great” she looked up at him and her breath caught in her throat. They were so close now, and Terry couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight of her-lids heavily half concealing her dark eyes, and her smell so intoxicatingly sweet, and her touch burning his thigh damn near setting his body on fire. 

“Words can’t express how much I appreciate you for yesterday Reign.” His eyes danced between hers and her lips, and he brought his big hand up to cup her jaw, using his thumb to graze her bottom lip. 

“May I?” She didn't fully know what Terry meant, nor did she care; her answer was already a hurried, breathless nod.

He groaned when their lips finally met. He fucking knew it, her lips were plush and soft, her gloss tasted so sweet, and that damn jasmine scent invaded his senses, making him feel drunk off her. 

And Reign. She felt like she was drowning in the energy of the moment. The once calm waters of her soul were surging forward as if the levee broke. She put all of her longing into that kiss, didn’t even know she wanted him this badly until this very second. She moaned, the hand on his thigh gripping tightly now, anchoring herself to him, and her other hand fisting his shirt trying to pull him impossibly closer. 

Terry’s hand on her jaw moved to the back of her head and tugged her braids just enough to tilt her head up more, prompting her to open her mouth, inviting her with his tongue to take everything she needed from him, sighing into her letting her know that he was ready and willing to be consumed completely. 

Reign just couldn’t get close enough, moaning more desperately at the feel of his teeth softly tugging her bottom lip. She boldly threw her leg over his lap, shifting to straddle him. Terry all but growled into the kiss that had turned overwhelmingly lustful, and his hands had a mind of their own, grabbing generous handfuls of her round ass, her skirt up around her waist forgotten as she broke the kiss to breathe. 

She threw her head back, hair now a messy halo around her and she moaned again, grinding her ruined panties on the imposing bulge in his pants. Terry’s hips bucked up into her, fingertips squeezing the softness of her ass, and he left bruising kisses down her neck, needing her to take more and more of him. 

“Terry” the way she moaned his name, voice beautifully deep and breathless, was a shock to his system, as if cold ice water had been poured down his back. He inhaled sharply, hands moving to hold her back tightly, stilling her movements.

A scary thought flashed in his mind, she’s too good to be true. Terry doesn’t like the turn his mind is taking, he inhales again, soothing his hands along her back as she whimpered above him trying to understand through the haze of desire fogging her mind.

All of this is too good to be true, what did you do to deserve this? Terry fought hard to stay present, to ground himself in the moment, but now so many thoughts were shouting at him, demanding to ruin this fucking beautiful moment. He rested his forehead against her neck, feeling her pulse slow as she tentatively rubbed his shoulders. He groaned, defeated.

“I want you so badly, Reign.” His body was so tense and holding on to her so tightly, she wanted to reassure him that she wants him too, but something told her he wasn't finished.

“I…I’m trying to take my time, trying to be intentional because that’s what you deserve.” He finally brought his head up to look her in the eyes. Both of them reflected such yearning back to each other. He nuzzled her nose softly with his own before continuing.

“And I’m trying to show myself that this is something I can trust. I feel that I can trust this.” His eyes shifted to an imploring green in the low lighting, begging her to understand. 

“So much has been snatched from me, and I want this so badly Reign. After today, the ball is in your court.” He gave her a quick kiss to stop whatever she was about to say. 

“I know I can trust you with whatever hold you have on me. But just for tonight, I need to show myself that I can exist outside of that fight or flight setting I’m so used to.” He gave her a sad smile, bringing one hand from her back to move her braids away from her face. He wanted to say more, he just didn’t know how. 

Reign looked intently into Terry’s eyes, seeing all the emotions he was trying to keep at bay. She understood more than he knew, the scary process of learning to trust again, learning to truly live again. It was a delicate dance, one capable of breaking down the strongest of foundations. She returned his sad smile, not disappointed in the moment being over, but sad that they could relate in such a way. 

Reign kept her eyes on his, the quiet understanding between them filling the space, almost tangible. She could see the depth of his struggle, the way he was bracing himself, and she knew words would only scratch the surface of what she wanted him to feel. Gently, she brought one of her hands to his chest, resting it over his heart. She could feel the steady, guarded beat beneath her palm, and she let her touch linger, grounding him in that softness.

After a moment, she leaned in, her lips brushing just beneath his ear, and whispered, “You don’t have to be afraid with me, Terry. I know what’s in my hands, and I’ll hold it carefully.” Her voice was barely above a breath, but each word carried the weight of her promise, steady and sincere.

When she pulled back to meet his gaze, she gave him a small, knowing smile, her hand still pressed to his heart. The look in her eyes was as clear as anything she could say: I see you, and I’m not going anywhere.

And Terry, who rarely found solace in words, felt something in him unwind just a little. He brought his hand up to cover hers, squeezing it gently, letting her touch settle the ache he hadn’t been able to name.

He drove home that night basking in the quietness she’d left in his mind, his tortured thoughts had morphed into simply replaying sweet scenes with her. And she fell asleep much easier than she normally does, waters of her soul not just serene on the surface, but all the way down to her ocean floor.

~~~~~~~

Not me just now realizing this may be the same Terry from Sweet Dreams 💀. I have a really raunchy request and a spooky request to fulfill before I can post chapter 3 🥲 but hopefully an update will come faster than the last one 💕 thank you in advance for your patience!!!

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[themareverine]

DESIGNATED DRIVER

—oldman!Logan x namelessfem!OC

SYNOPSIS: “Hey driver!” Tits, yeah—counts two of 'em. What Logan can't quite shake isn't the drunk-off-her ass's $20,000 tit job, or even the way his passengers embarrass themselves with shameless come-ons, stupid amounts of money. something else, entirely—a pretty little thing all done up in makeup and curls, wishing she were anywhere but third-wheeling a drunk hen party. "Sorry about my friend, she's—" "Didn't even notice her, honey."

warnings: this is so offensively long, I'm SORRY. flirting, drunkenness, flashing, maybe some oldman!logan inappropriate thoughts, maybe a kiss, general shyness/awkardness of that girl, language, not proofread, mentions of oral sex, OC has blue eyes.

a/n: and finally, after many weeks, it's here. not entirely sure how i feel about this, it's very self indulgent. let me know what you think, and maybe there needs to be a part two?

There’s a lot of things about this fucking limo that Logan hates. 

For one, you couldn’t ask for a shittier lease agreement, and if such a hellish thing dared to exist, Satan holds the pink slip. Two years ago it had seemed like a good fucking idea, leasing some long black experimental piece of Chrysler shit that was heavy off the line and a low fatass—hot as fuck though, with chrome plated lugs. Midnight metal flake showed every piece of God’s earth, the color of sin. Washed the fucker every other day. Couldn’t make green with a dirty rig, and he was an anal retentive sonuvabitch like that to begin with. And the interior, fuck that, it would tell secrets it showed every damn piece of filth that fell into it. Paid or otherwise. 

This shitpiece had a tendency to run hot and burn crude, but, she got the groceries—brought home bacon, if that was even still a thing in this century. Toss up between this and the Navigator the color of bad ideas, he’d flipped for the Chrysler. Industry standard, turned heads, attracted the upper echelon. No intention of hauling around fucktards into the suburbs—black paint looked good under Vegas neon on the strip. 

But the biggest fucking thing he hated about this rig— fucking privacy partition. Busted worse than a fat lip and had been since the jump. Any serious driver, that would’ve been the first thing to check. Separate him from the sin—hot piece of ass that slid into the backseat looking at him like he’s dinner, a couple too deep in on the red to think straight, the fucker on business hiding his wedding ring in his dick pocket as he picks up an STD. 

The first God-awful time he’d went to use it, the damn thing had all but stood up and shrieked in his ear. Grinding gears, the knock of a seized electric motor—scared the shit out of the handsy blonde who’d been trying to get his dick wet since the moment she’d dropped into the back of the Chrysler, tits all but popping from what looked like at least a size too small black—thing. Hadn’t been a dress, he’d seen plenty of them slide in and out—she’d made a spectacle of showing off the little lace number squirreled away for the right price. And it wasn’t that he’d been preening for a look, wasn’t his style—but when it’s right there. Plain as the nose on anyone’s face, and he’s been chaste as a priest for fucking years. It taking up all the glass of his rearview, looking like a felony—the devil had all but welded his attention between her legs. 

”Looks like you’re stuck with me, hm?”  

Fucking partition. A business-only kiss landed two hundred green ones between his abs and the elastic of his Calvins. A handful of hours of rack and many shotglasses later had put him on the scent to hell, the damn dealership. Four hours from the border, four hours from any kind of work—he’d all but flown the thing into the service bay. Demanded a new partition. And, Logan had been laughed out of a lot of places the last two centuries he’d been sucking air—laughed, jeered, driven out with pitchforks. Circumstances aside, it all ended the same. Vamoose, pissed off his rocker.  

An astronomical estimate later, with the fucked-in-the-rear-end isn’t covered by warranty—his fist had collided with the service writer’s nose faster than his patience had evaporated for the blonde. All but jammed the prick’s deviated septum up into his brainspace—Logan had felt it between his knuckles. Only thing keeping his patience held together, keeping the claws in, the man’s crunching cartilage had given him a high not much removed from amphetamine—it had felt good. Feel some asshat’s blood on his hands, staining his skin. See it hit  the floor in fat, thick drops. Feel the warmth of it fade as he brushed it away, coppery scent an idea beneath his nose so familiar it may as well pay rent. 

Didn’t get his partition, though. Just a bad taste of customer service and the satisfaction of seeing a grown man cry. 

Logan isn’t a man to complain—never did change the cards dealt you at the gametable of living. Better to shut up and play, make due with what you’ve got than wish away opportunities. Sure, an almost-lemon of a leased Chrysler with a busted partition wasn’t great, but, it wasn’t that long ago that he’d have given his right nut for the chance to work, much less actual green. Put up and shut up had been the mantra since he’d all but popped out of his mother, and it had, for all intents and purposes, kept him this side of the dirt. Sucking air and feeling, if nothing more—and what was surviving, if not sucking air and feeling? 

Doesn’t know. Doesn’t care. 

Music that’s been muffled most of the ride tonight suddenly isn’t, the back door of the rig flinging open, a wide arch, revealing the world beyond. Neon bleeds across the black leather of his interior. A smack of humidity rushes in, almost immediately fogs the passenger windows— he keeps it ass-in-winter cold, A/C all but screaming full bore. Likes it that way, keeps him awake. Keeps them awake, he isn’t hauling anyone’s ass anywhere because they fell asleep in his seats. 

And while he isn’t startled—there isn’t fucking anything that could scare him, he doesn’t think—Logan’s spine pulls into a straight line against his seat at the sliver of night outside the door. Alarm bells sound off in the back of his head, eyes narrowed on the rearview—hand all but lava, hovering over the gearshift. He’s been here before, on the jump. Ready to rock and roll, ready to kill—should killing need be. He’s lived two centuries on this edge, this cliff. Walking the line between reflex and ready. It’s almost carved into his skin, alarm—comes as naturally as the crest and fall of his chest. 

Logan relaxes a little when a peek of skin slips hurriedly into the back seat, familiar stiletto heels. Air in the limo immediately snaps to an all-soldier attention, flustering—like a disturbed hen rustling her chicks. Something isn’t right, isn’t stable—nuclear, almost. Dangerous. The car shifts a little with incoming weight as one of the night’s passengers whisks into the back. Curl and makeup and the familiar whiff of peaches escorts her in as she pulls the door closed, all too quickly for this to be a normal, unbothered arrival. 

Her. Muscle in his jaw ticks off, it takes willpower not to wriggle in the front seat, shift his weight a little. Usually it helped shake off the hot weight of sex rolling around the base of his gut, desire. Carnal things he’d learned to live without, suppress. Animalistic and snapping at his spine like frothing wolves. Most times, it was easy to not notice—girls, women, came and went in their short dresses and makeup. Pretty to see, but venomous little things. Maneaters, trouble on stilts. None of them were pretty–pretty in the way that mattered, pretty souls. Ugliness shot behind their eyes like bullets, low and cold. Dimes and dozens, nameless and unnoteworthy as they slipped him tips, batted their lashes, kissed him like he was their plaything because who’s he to fight a pair of tits? Forgettable is understating it. 

But her? He hasn’t been able to unglue her piercing eyes from his brain matter. And, he’s tried—like it or not, he’s tried bailing water out of this canoe, a canoe that’s been hallowed and empty for God knew how long. But it’s like emptying water back into the ocean—it only comes back, heavier and heavier.  

No dice. Close, but no cigar–unlucky bastard. 

She’d slipped into the limo before the night had even been an idea, one of three who’d decided to split fare for a sober ride. Pharmacy, first, for little more than IVs of electrolytes and fluids—never had seen girls guzzle so fast, but, whatever. Mile-a-minute chatter he hadn’t even bothered to pace had kept them busy most of the ride into the metroplex, and Logan should’ve prayed they’d ignored him. Kept his fat trap shut and just let them guide him, but God, no. He’d asked—asked for directions. Where they were going. 

Had asked, and fuck him, that had sent things off with a bang. As if they hadn’t realized he’d been there, all three of them had locked eyes with him in the rearview, surprised thrown over the air like a stifling blanket. Heartbeats later, awkward and thick, one of them had leaned forward. Arms over the seat, showing off everything God had given her as she’d all but pumped her bedazzled phone in his face as if it were a shotgun. 

He’d clocked her noticing he wasn’t wearing a ring. Was jacked as fuck under an two-undone button shirt and jacket that fit him like sin. Deliberate choice, but–she’d all but started drooling right there on his lap, hungry like a starving man at banquet. 

Asking God for some shred of mercy had done little—the look on her face. He’d never forget it, had seen enemies look at him with more mirth and pity. Shit. Hungry, in the eyes. Desperate, like a dying woman choking on her own libidol. After rattling off the address, it would've been faster if he’d just hit the brakes and sent her flying forward through the window. Skulking back into her seat as if it were an X-rated shot, she’d eye fucked him hard until she’d been dragged back into hushed, schoolgirl conversation. Gross. 

And that was it, the beginning of the end. Eyes glued to the back of his head like some kind of anchor—Logan could’ve tasted them from here. Was hell trying not to make eye contact in the rearview, feeling their gaze hunting him like wild banshees. Spiking adrenaline, heady plumes of pheromones. Arousal, unlike anything he’d ever wanted to scent—stunk up the air like God knew. Half-starved vixens, all low and bedroom eyes, begging for trouble in all the right little ways that leave men slobbering fools. Had they been parked and out of the Chrysler, the two of them would’ve been on their knees, if not on his cock. 

He’d blasted the air again, because the air in the damn car was so thick he would’ve cut it in halves. 

Low lashes, smoky eyes. Lips the color of cherries. Tight black dresses and heels higher than heaven, they’d been dressed to kill—maybe a little less. Lobotomize, maybe. Cut out hearts, certainly—blue ball, absolutely. 

Pity the bastard who gets the taste of these tarts, pity, and probably mercy. 

Bachelorettes, he’d guessed off the gun. Correctly, too—not two blocks from CVS and out came cheap accessories. FUCK ME may as well have been written in lipstick on Stuck-In-the-Middle’s forehead, he assumed she was the future betrothed. By the look of her, much less the smell, she’d been aching for tonight. Primed and desperate, like an oil-starved pistol. Clawing for it, walking the heat of the desert for change. Something else, something new, something dangerous—cock. Dick. Be it Tom, Harry, or some other poor fool—Logan could clock it from anywhere. She’d been sitting on this for a hot minute. Maybe since she’d been born. 

And Logan’s uncertain who to pity more—her or the mediocre cock she’s about prowling for—the lopsided tiara, tacky dimestore BRIDE sash out of a CVS bag were just warning signs. Red flags, if you were smart about it. Darkness in her eyes would make any man second guess the two carats on her finger, if men weren’t animals. And they were, every one of them—and she’s far too drop-dead to not demand attention, to not homewreck and ruin some poor, unsuspecting fool’s evening. 

Watching her slip those two carats into her handbag, he’d just shook his head. 

Silence to stir the dead had followed after they’d eye fucked him into celibacy. Blissful, sweet as the Nile quiet. A creak of movement, the slip of skin on leather—her. Short brunette curls with highlights, icy blues.  Defined collarbones in a hardly-strapped dress, big earrings. Sparkles, everywhere, blended into makeup that’s been on awhile but still looks good. And she, she isn’t like the rest—not by a mile. How she moves, the way her lashes flutter. Doe-eyed and sweet. Doesn’t smell like sin, the kiss of color on her cheeks isn’t blush, either. 

Peaches, this one smells like fucking peaches. Something floral. 

She’s sweet. Saccharine, sugary. Like everything Logan’s forgotten. Pretty, in that girl-next-door kinda way—the way he’s always noticed, the way nobody else ever does. And what a pretty thing like her is doing in the back of his sinwagon, riding with Jezebels, hunting for trouble—he’ll never know. 

Hours before this, she’d leaned forward, pretty hands on the back of his seat. Done up nails that looked fake, but not cheap. This close, he could see her contact lenses replacing nine-to-five frames, the permanent little indentations on her nose were unmissable. Ocean eyes smiled at him through the glass of his rearview, as if it were a game. Good at it, she won—he blinked first. 

Offered him a little half smile, that dust of color on her nose darkening to an almost strawberry. When his eyes hit hers again from the road, icy blues ramped up like pulsing neon, unlike any he’d ever seen in two fucking centuries. Difficult to think, he’d had to realize he was holding his breath in the pocket of his cheek, hot against his molars. She’d reached across the back of the seat to gently nudge him with her elbow—hey. It should’ve sounded like something you gave to horses, but it was—considerate. 

Nearly fucking polite.

You got the address okay, sir? If his tongue hadn’t swollen to the size of his balls he’d have dared to laugh at her. Sir. If he thinks hard, Logan can’t remember the last time he’d been seriously called sir, from a place of consideration, behind the ribs. He’s been alive for hundreds of years, seen a lot of shit and blood, but has been called a professional and crisp sir all but five times in his existence on God’s planet. 

Shaking himself out of it, he tells himself she isn’t the first pretty skirt to grace the leathers of his Chrysler. To look pretty and smell good, to stir up his cold blood. Wouldn’t be the last, by far. Part of his marketing was that he was safe. Stuck around, even when the witching hour faded into bleeding colors of morning. Fair & There, as if he were a fucking marketing guru. 

She’d slipped out of the limo with her friends even though he’d wanted her to stay. Wanted to smell her and look at her all night, mull over all the things in his life he’d abandoned. Think about how, maybe, in some other world, bend of time, something that sweet could belong to him. But, she’d thanked him. Obviously the designated sober of the night, she’d arranged to text fifteen minutes before they wanted to leave in case he wanted to get a drink or took another gig. 

I’ll be here all night, and that wasn’t a lie. The flask burning a hole against his heart had enough whiskey to last him until morning, another bottle tucked under the seat for safekeeping. He was safe, he was there, and too damn tired to even try to think about driving around the city on a time schedule. 

It’d been two hours, parked under the neon at the curb. Not even midnight. Normal clients would just be breaking stride, setting paces. At the gate, snorting like stallions in heat. Rutting like animals, working the game. Nothing he didn’t know all too well, he’d lived his wild years a lifetime ago—he knew what sex and booze, a good time smelled like. Could clock it every time, wasn’t daft. Had witnessed his fair share of back-alley fucks, the straightening of a hemline. Crooked buttons and tented-out slacks. 

Tonight wouldn’t be different, he assumed—well. Had assumed. Which, as the saying went, made him an ass. 

Her heartbeat from the frontseat is almost tangible, hard and fast. Jackrabbit—as if she’d dropped it in his hands, bleeding and raw all over his fingers. Logan’s eyes fall away from the rearview for a beat, ticks back to her when she slides across the seat. Straightening the end of her dress, which hits below the knee–or would, if she were upright, but now pulls at her thighs. And the way she fiddles with it suggests it’s shorter than it was earlier in the evening, when sin was exciting and didn’t slap like a bitch. 

Tucked in against the opposite door, looking out tinted glass like it’s a skyline worth seeing, not just a lot of nothing. And something’s off, he can feel it in the little pulses of electricity of the air, the heat in her blood. Anger. The tick tick tick of frustrated fingernails on the edge of the window. Upset. It buzzes in her blood, which he can feel thumping against her bones from here. Slick scent of sweat between her thighs, swirls of alcohol and pyrotechnic smoke mixed with fairy dusting drugs. It’s enough to make him shift, crack the window. 

Long gone are the peaches and florals, now she just bleeds with heat and virility enough to stir the gods. Fucking perfect. 

How long’s it been, old boy? Dull pangs in his cock make him shift up in his seat, stir some blood into his feet. Eyerolls, gaze hitting the pavement out his window, sick fuck. Just a girl, just like the rest. Reaches inside his breast pocket for a cigar and a light. 

And as much as he wishes it isn’t true, Logan can’t quite shake that she ain’t just a girl—not by a shot, long or short. He’s seen a thousand of them, sure—seen and tasted and fucked senseless. Yeah. But—none like this. None that make him burn at the drop of a hat and a smile. None that twist his guts like a corkscrew, rip him open like he’s a fresh kill. He didn’t even know her name, anything about her. He swore to God he wasn’t this type of man, couldn’t be bought with some pretty eyes and cherry lipstick. Happened to wet-behind-the-ears boys only ever hoping their balls dropped into manhood, not guys like him. Not men that had seen a thing or two, not men who had sampled the female sex from every fucking era the last two hundred years had presented. 

Not men with demons, not men with metal bones and rust spinning through his cells like Satan’s blood. Not him. 

But it doesn’t seem to matter, because her presence in the limo upsets his sensibilities like an earthquake. Seemed to fillet him like a fat bass, pull his ribs back to watch his heart beat. Everything he didn’t know, everything she could be—choked the life out of him, those wicked blues heavy as steel. If he weren’t careful, she’d see through him, like—like memories. And she, like everyone else, wouldn’t like what she saw lurking in his bones, in the organ behind his ribs. 

All his life hiding who he is, years hiding from everything the world wanted to label him, only to—

Fuck. Yeah. Something’s off—is his leg bouncing? The fuck is that about? Fuck, fuck. His fingers card through his hair, cough aching in his bronchial tubes. Shit. 

Another glance in the glass reveals she isn’t even looking at him, thoughts out the window in the shifting low lights of the limo’s interior. Maybe a million miles from here, but nonetheless—she’s everywhere, every damn where in the space of the Chrysler, this sinwagon that’s messing with his head. Everything about her. Her scent, her pheromones playing him like a fucking game, the heat along her spine. Blood in her veins, ripping through her heart, the pull and push of arteries and cardiovascular muscle. Mesh of her lungs, rising and falling. He’s tuned into it like it’s the fucking evening news. 

And everything about this is wrong, his guts swim with it. 

Fingering the cigar between two swollen knuckles, Logan ignores pain that zings. Rips through the adamantium in his arm like it’s starving, hunting for air. And Logan is maybe considering that he’s lost his mind, that it’s somehow taken up residence in his dick, when—-a sniffle.

Good fuck. Is she crying? Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

It’s magic, the little breathy thing girls do when they’ve been crying, but don’t want you to flag it. Witchraft, maybe. Men will never understand how they do it, cry without tears, but—it’s a thing. Definitely, confirmed by science somewhere, some egghead in a lab taking notes on female specimens and how they manage such emotion while still looking like she does. Vaguely his memories spin with all the girls he’s known throughout his life, and how every single one of them have this ability hardwired into their core being, mutations aside. 

Biting the cigar between his teeth in the corner of his mouth, he flicks the lighter between his thumb and index finger, holding it up in line of sight. His head angles to look up at the rearview, a rough cough rattling the mesh of his lungs enough to trigger her attention. And sure enough, she has been crying—her knuckle gently brushes at the trails of tears all but neon on her face beneath the limo’s lights, eyes flicking to the rearview to meet his. 

Coughing, he eases his back against the seat. Hot muscle burns a little as tension bleeds away, “You care if I smoke?” 

And why he asks, Logan isn’t sure—he’s never asked before. Then again, he’s never had to ask, because it’s a standing policy to not smoke on a gig. Tonight, though, he needs something to do with his hands, to calm the magma rushing through his blood, the cold sweat bubbling up on the back of his neck. Staining his white fucking shirt. Even a blush from the grave and exhausted, slowly dying away from whatever is inside of him, he isn’t an idle man. If he doesn’t do something, he won’t be able to help himself—he can barely fight back the urge to not lose whatever sanity’s buried alive and get himself off, right here and now.  

Anything to masquerade the scent of whatever’s slick between her legs. You are a sick, perverted fuck, Logan. True, probably. But it’s been years, a lot of years. And he hasn’t wanted a lot of women, hasn’t clocked many that he’d actually enjoy rousting up a fantasy over. And she smells like a good time, something he may not actually regret. That would be a first. 

Tucking a little tighter against the door, her eyes close as she gently shakes her head. Curls flick around her features as she does, and she cracks her window before reaching forward to slip off both shoes. Logan had noticed them—yellow, bright highlighter yellow so jovial they may as well have smacked him upside his head. So out of place, but they were sexy as hell—he’d always appreciated a well dressed woman, and as impractical as they were, high heels did add a punch of something that made him a little hard in the dick. 

“I do, but go ahead,” it’s a little sigh, one he’s all but five-star VIP familiar. “One of us should enjoy ourselves, anyway.” 

In zero to none he flicks the lighter to life, burns the edge of the cigar until it’s hot. Thick, it rides his throat perfectly—chases that gut-twisting urge that’s coiled around the base of his spine like a viper. Through his blood it goes, ramping up the rust and poison and years that kill, and he heaves a sigh—falls back a little rougher against the seat. That ache in his cock twitches, but she retreats. 

His eyes fall closed, heart settling down behind his bones. “You wouldn’t happen to sell those little bottles of booze in this rig, would you?” Makes him start a little, and Logan blinks. A little surprised, he angles to look over his shoulder at her, arm lifting to drape over the bench seat. Brow raised, she elaborates, obviously reading his expression. “You know, the luxury part of ‘luxury accomodations’?” 

“Not a part of the deal, honey.” 

“Ah, you don’t like money, then,” the corner of her mouth ticks up with a smirk when he shifts a little more in his seat to study her. He catches what she lays down, without thinking. “And I ain’t anyone’s ‘honey’, so don’t be an ass and assume. Please.” Blinking, Logan can’t remember the last time he felt his stomach actually lift with amusement—the little way she says her ‘o’s’ is dangerous, suggests the north–either Canada. Minnesota, Wisconsin. North Dakota maybe? Anywhere but this far on the border, the edge of the world. Interesting.

Fucking Calliban. Knew he’d regret the hard copy that albino had suggested, but, it was too little too late. Surprised, he manages a little growl of complaint before he leans forward, hand fumbling against the floorboard carpet of the passenger’s side. Knuckles nudge the bottle of Jack Daniels, and he grabs the neck of it before allowing it to dangle between his fingers. Amber liquid dances like a tornado through the bottle, sloshing against the glass like a dream. 

Unstopping it, he pulls back a sharp drink of it. “Have at it,” it’s rough, raw. Irritation peeks through the teeth of it, but it’s more resigned than anything. 

Leaning forward, her eyes hold his and she hesitates to snatch the bottle away, hand hanging in the air. She’s got lithe fingers, bigger hands—hands that look strong. His attention cocks slightly when he notices the callouses, the scars on her knuckles. They aren’t polished, nine-to-five office hands like ninety percent of the girls who pass through his service. Briefly he wonders what her fake nails would feel like curled against skin, but dismisses it when she plucks the bottle from between his fingers. 

“Thanks,” her chuckle comes from her gut, almost a growl of relief that says finally! as she puts the cool class to her lips. Guzzles back a full shot. Rights, her cherry lips part into a small smile as she hands the bottle back, passing her thumb over left behind lipstick. “Good God that burns,” managing a little cough, Logan replaces the stop and pops it between his thighs. “But it’s good. Takes the edge off.” 

I bet it does. He manages a growling mhm, settling back into his seat. Thinking that’s the last of it. Content to look out the window and smoke his cigar, not think about the heat ricocheting off the adamantium in his pelvis. How it stirs up his blood, how her voice is that perfect lilt of low and just high enough. 

Head swimming with the mental picture of her beneath him, breathless and hot, he bristles to attention when her arms drape over the front seat. Very suddenly all Logan can smell is the heady smell of woman and sweat rolling off of her like a locomotive. 

She mutters under her breath something Logan can’t quite track, bit the way she picks at a nail with her teeth, gaze anywhere but inside the low limo’s lighting, would imply negatives. And she could’ve started reciting the phone book, he wouldn’t have noticed—far too busy noticing cleavage and the valley of her collarbones to be able to think straight. 

But his stare gets heavy, she notices the thick air that’s smothering the limo like a wet dream–her eyes find his, a little smile at the corner of her mouth when his flick away. Oh, good fuck. Her eyes bore into him through the rearview. Uncapping the Jack, he takes another sharp pull of it. It chases the warmth in the back of his throat, blooming in his chest like he didn’t know what. 

More pregnant silence. She shifts against the leather, hot skin sticky against it. Reaching to put the car in accessory, Logan fiddles with the A/C. He clocks her swiping her heels from the floor, wrangling them back on her feet—hadn’t she just taken the damn things off? 

“I should go get them before either of them do something they’ll regret,” her eyes cast to the clock on the dash, which isn’t terribly far from his ID information, which is offensively just there. “It’s late.” It isn’t, not really. Logan thinks this has to be the most conservative hen party in the history of such things, but his jaw clamps shut. 

If he can bail them out of his car early, he may be able to catch a few hours of sleep before the early-hour rush. That hour when last call sends boozers into the streets, looking for rides. That’s where the money was, after all—and God knew he could use the dough. 

Her hand floating over the handle of the door, as if she’s waiting for his consent. “Paid by the hour, darlin’,” and Logan does not miss the way darlin’ hits her—sharp eyes flick down to his mouth for a fraction of a heartbeat, a little plume of color lifting to the apples of her cheeks that definitely isn’t rouge. Blush, they called it now. She has plenty of it on her face, but it darkens something pretty in a way that, usually, would amuse him. 

Instead, now, he just lifts a hand to slot through the openings on the Chrsyler’s steering wheel, ignoring the ache between his knuckles. 

He can’t have arthritis, can he? Popping the latch, he twists out of the limo. Crosses around the front through the headlights to her side. A flick of his fingers and he pulls open the door, highlighter yellow heels spilling out to the pavement in that Hollywood way. 

He doesn’t do this— he makes a habit not to touch customers. Usually his hand finds his pocket, as a rule. But for some reason, her eyes skating through the dark, panning around the street and the front of the club, lights the mesh of his lungs on fire. Offering her his hand, its appearance before her drops a rod through her spine—she straightens, blinking at it once before her fluttery lashes look up at him. 

He wonders if the little flick of muscle in her jaw actually takes muscle memory. Looking at him with a look that’s uncertain, that’s you sure? heartbeats pass and make the moment uncomfortable. Shuffling his weight on his feet, his hand falls from the door and to his pocket, palming the lighter against his thigh. Phlegm and whatever else God created in the human body rattles around the poison in his chest, a low cough echoing off his bones. 

It takes her a second to collect, looking between him and his hand. “By the hour. Right,” her eyes skate down his chest, over all of him, as if she’s making sure. Her hand slips into his too lightly to matter, as if she’s making an effort to limit contact—and that’s a good thing, because Logan is fairly sure the world had stopped spinning, the electrical pulses of his body kicking to overdrive at just how alive her skin feels. Senses heightened to infinity. He could count stars, maybe, with the way her nails deliciously press into his palm, rough and hard. Warm, the scent of peaches all but punches his lights out—he can’t even taste his cigar, body enamored with the way she smells, how her hand all but boils in his. 

The fuck, Logan. 

Stepping out, sharp eyes navigate the front of the club, and a blackhole of the universe suddenly opens between them when her hand falls away. Heels tick against the concrete as she turns to face him batting the door closed. Hands in pockets, he kicks back against the Chrysler. Waiting. 

“Thanks,” her smile is small, eyes casting down to the filth of midnight on the concrete, “It shouldn’t be long.” 

He shrugs, “‘S your money, honey,” is followed by a grunt as she nods, turns on her heel. Sashays back into the front of the club before flashing a wristband to the bouncer. Between the help eyeballing her in that dress and Logan unable to stop ogling just how it clings, highlights every curve of her, it’s a miracle either of them are still standing. 

Reappearing fifteen minutes later with girlfriends in tow, Logan folds them into the limo politely, without incident. Giggling, traces of the night have painted both of her companions—long gone is the bride sash and dimestore plastic tiara. Replaced by smudged-and-attempted-to-be-fixed makeup. Teased hair, ruffled clothes. Nobody could miss that hickey for anything, it would take stock-market shattering amounts of base to cover it up—Mars would have a better time trying to see needles in haystacks. No amount of cigar smoke clinging to his clothes, sweat hanging out as an idea under his nose could cut through that unmistakably sweet musk of sex, sweat. 

Before Logan can ask where to point the Chrysler, the other girl pops off an address from her phone to what is most definitely not their hotel, or anywhere remotely in the neighborhood of partylife. Brow raised, Logan peeks the rearview to see his companion whirl so quickly in her seat, he wonders how her head is still attached. Look on her face says everything words don’t, but she asks anyway—”Where the hell is that?” 

Trying not to overhear, but it’s impossible, he fiddles with the temperature controls again when the one lifts the hair from the back of her neck. “It’s a hotel,” no shit, it’s the most expensive district in the area. Highbrows stay here—he’d picked them up on the opposite side of the metro, in the middle class accommodations. Sour bile splashes up the back of his throat, jaw setting–he knows what’s about to happen. 

“No, really? And here I thought it was the frickin’ monastery,” lunging over her friend stuck in the middle, she plucks the phone from her friend’s hand—laughing hysterically, face flushed with alcohol and tipsy giggles, her jaw opens fully on its hinge. Rapt attention almost has his heart exploding, he nearly misses the stop sign—pops the brake a little hard. 

She studies herself against the door, eyes flicking to him for half a second. Phone flipping screen first to her friend, she nods to it. “Who the hell is Mike?” Lowering the phone to her lap, her eyes skate between the two friends, hard. Heavy. Fast. “Oh my god. Don’t tell me—” 

“It’s just a fling,” her name rolls off her friend’s tongue sourly, like cold venom. If Logan weren’t so invested in the outcome of this conversation he’d think it was almost melodic, a unique name. Fine and perfect for the sweet little thing currently erupting in his backseat. Too busy pacing traffic, his tongue skates along over his back molars, “don’t get your panties in a twist, honey. It’ll just for a few hours, to have some fun.” 

“A few hours?” The actual squeak in her tone was laughable, “You’re joking—you’re actually kidding me. You can’t just go fuck some random guy you met in a bar, you’re getting married.” Offensive hangs in the words like a hot iron, branding itself into the atmosphere with weighty judgment enough to make her chest rise and fall with rapid, uneven breaths. “I won’t let you—”

Eyeroll extreme, Logan could’ve flinched with how much it snaps like a whip. “Oh my god, would you just chill out?” Looking to the other friend, who’s phone is still held captive on her lap, Logan bites the inside of his cheek. Like black cobras their chests fan out, both of them turning to cast frigid judgment to their third, who is pressed against the door to create distance from the very idea of the two of them. For fuck’s sake, “It’s just oral, honey—” 

He snorted. All their eyes trip to him, but Logan is nothing if not suave—covering with a cough, he bites back a smile into his lower lip, looking down to his lap. Holy shit, they were actually having this conversation. In the back of his limo. If he weren’t so amused, it could be hot. Smokin’. 

But the look on his companion’s face is too horrified, too innocent for him to take any enjoyment out of the topic of conversation flitting beneath the lights of the limo. It’s scandalousm, really. Nothing he hadn’t seen before, but, it just—it didn’t fit. Without knowing anything about much, he knows this isn’t her. Neon Heels, brunette curls. Lipstick barely upset, smelling like peaches of sweat. He could feel it in the very adamantium slowly flogging life out of his body. 

Color drains out of her face, milkwhite like a ghost. He’s fairly certain she’d rather cut out her tongue and serve it to him on a silver platter than actually go through with such things. Logan knows a thing or two about life, he’s studied humanity for a lot of fucking years—he knew the good ones when he saw them. Pure, untouched. 

Or, at the very least, good. 

“Just oral?” 

“Would you just stop, ok? Nobody is asking you to come up. Don’t need to be all, all pissy just because nobody noticed you at the bar,” and it’s hot, like acid. Cutting to bone. Logan watches the words cut like knives through the mesh of her chest, and if his collar wasn’t absolutely on fire, he’d have the audacity to smack some decency into whatever the fuck this chick’s problem was. “It’s not your thing. That’s fine. It’ll be just fine,” leaning forward, the bride informs him that once he’d dropped them at the hotel, he can take her back to their hotel. We’ll just Uber back in the morning. 

“Fine by me.” 

And it makes more sense, the longer he thinks about it. Explained the tears, the fluster in the atmosphere. Pushing the Chrysler through traffic, the tension in the atmosphere snaps like a rubber band—she doesn’t even flinch. In fact, her jaw clenches. Muscles ticks off bone, and she hands back her friend’s phone before falling back into the seat, eyes cast out the window like they’ve been welded to the darkness. Wind out of her sails, her elbow props on the windows ledge, subconsciously her hand covers half of her face. Quiet as death, unmoving as a sarcophagus. 

Logan had never seen someone’s soul die while they were still alive, but he figures this was close. 

Silence enough to make the dead uncomfortable follows for a few seconds. He focuses his attention on driving the limo rather than looking in the rearview, because noticing the look on her face, actually caring, is so far out of his pay grade that it’s laughable. To her credit, he doesn’t think she’s actually crying—hell would sooner freeze over, he reckons—but her brow is set in such a hard line, that he can almost read the regret on her face in red letter clarity. 

Ensuing conversation about how the bride’s tits look in her hardly-there dress has him almost disinterested. Guiding the Chrysler up to the curb of the hotel, he almost misses "Hey driver!" that's more giggle than it is anything else. Eyes tracking to the rearview, Logan isn’t nearly as surprised as he thought he would be when she rips down the front of what was once, probably, an investment dress—tits, yeah. Nice ones, too—bought and paid for by the looks of it. Tits that size don’t just sit up at attention without a calculated surgeon’s hand. 

“Like what you see?” 

Puffing out a little nervous chuckle, his brow trips up. He shakes his head, amused. Erupting into a fit of snickers and snorts, their cheeks darken with heat. Falling against themselves, the two of them think they’re fucking hilarious as they begin to discuss the course of their adventure. May as well be full fledged pornography in the back of his rig, the things that fly—it sparks up his blood, empties his mouth of any moisture Jack Daniels may have rousted. 

God couldn’t have brought up the hotel’s curb any faster, he thinks. Dropping the Chrysler into park, he angles to pop the latch on his door. Misses completely the moan of leather, the little rock of moving bodies shifting around the backseat. 

Logan all but jumps when two hands come around him from behind. “Maybe you should come upstairs, driver—bet you could show a young bride a thing or two, huh?” Fuck, fuck fuck—hands that palm down his chest, snake under the buttons of his white shirt are hot. Hot, practiced. Soft and deliberate, one of their nails flick against his nipple, beneath his undershirt—he grunts back a sharp breath, head all but braced against the Chrysler’s hard headrest. 

Adamantium kisses the flesh of his knuckles, and it takes effort not to let loose—more brainpower than he wants to admit, fighting back the reflex. Hand shaking on his knee, he inhales an uneasy breath and presses the heel of either hands onto his knees, biting the corner of his chapped lip. Hand drifting lower, almost to his abs, he snatches her wrist with a speed he doesn’t remember. Couldn’t, hadn’t, for as long as he can think back. 

“Somethin’ tells me you know plen’y, honey,” his eyes narrow in the rearview. “Plus, I don’t do free fucks.” 

She chuckles, pleased. “Who said anything about free?” Lifting her hand away from inside his shirt, he throws her off—cackling like the little witch she is, she folds out of the limo with her friend, “Very professional of you, driver,” he couldn’t miss the darkness in her tone if he’d tried as she winks at him from his window, “drive safe. Precious cargo, back there.” 

Could’ve fooled him. 

A wiggle of her fingers goodbye to her friend in the backseat, the hotel’s thick doors swallow both of them whole. Vanishing in a twirl of hair and makeup, Logan turns in his seat to consider his last passenger. She hasn’t moved, merely has kicked off her heels—but she has allowed herself to cry. Fresh tears fall down the length of her cheeks, but she doesn’t sniffle. They’re silent, powerful. Say everything words don’t need to—it’s a deep knife, one that bleeds. Logan can see the film reel running through her brain, on repeat. As if it has subtitles. A black and white horror show of just exactly what had happened, how she’d ended up here. 

Curling a leg up under herself, Logan watches her shrink into as small of herself as she can, forehead resting against the cool glass of the limo’s window. And it’s tragic, really—someone who looks like that, reduced to a teary, smoldering shell of a person by mere words. Logan knew people were cruel, he’d seen the worst of humanity up close and personal. His own life was hell trapped in bones and flesh, his own history more horrific than anything Hollywood could dream up. 

He drives. That’s what he does, that’s who Logan is now. A driver.  

It’s another 20 minutes across town. And the ride is ominous, a mummified tomb that’s suffocating no matter how much air whisks into the limo from open windows. Trapped between wanting to say something and unsure of how to react, he relaxes a little when she finally slips earphones in—mindlessly scrolling a cell phone. Swiping at tears that ruin makeup she no longer cares about. Alone in her own little world of music and heartache, he watches the night fall away from her—her hair goes back into clips, away from her face. Earrings come off. Out come the contacts, replaced instead with glasses from the purse she’d left on the floorboards. Gum, more scrolling on her phone. Heels set on the seat beside her–finally her eyes close as she rests against the cool glass. 

Gently rolling the Chrysler to a stop at the curb, she sits up. Breathlessly, she stretches a little, lashes fluttering behind frames that accentuate the shape of her face. And Logan doesn’t remember thinking anyone has ever looked good in glasses, but she topples such ideology when she beats him to the punch—she pops the latch on the door and steps out, barefoot. Heels tucked under her arm, purse hanging off her shoulder, she meets him at his door when he slips out of the front seat. 

Handling cash had never felt so cold, bitter. She doesn’t look at him as she counts it into his hand, more than they’d agreed. Slipping the remainder of it back into her bag, she steps back, smiling at him softly. Resigned. Apologetic. Light from the overhang of the hotel sets off whatever shine is on her face, tear stains all but left behind—replaced instead with pink cheeks and sad, swollen eyes. 

“Should be square,” she nods to the cash in his hand, “you can count it again if you want, I won’t be offended.” Briefly Logan thinks to care if her friends had managed their parts of the fare, but he dismisses it when she bites the inside of her cheek, tongue skating over her bottom lips as she shifts awkwardly on her feet. “Thank you so much for tonight—you have a beautiful limousine. The whiskey was great, thank you.” 

Nodding once, he shrugs a shoulder. She’s buying time in that awkward little way people do when they’re not sure what to say, but think they have to say something. She doesn’t, wouldn’t ever—but he wants her to, strangely. Logan could stand here and listen to her come up with things to say the rest of the night, if he knew it wouldn’t deepen the color on her face, drive a little deeper the knife that’s still gutting her in the ribs. 

Sucking in a sharp breath, her eyes track up to his from her feet standing on the warm concrete. “Listen, Logan—” she remembered his name, “I’m sorry about my friend. She’s really wasted, and it totally wasn’t alright for her to proposition you like that. It was actually gross—but that’s not who she is, not really. I’m sorry. She’s just—” 

“—didn’t even notice her, honey.” He lies. What else is there to do but lie to this pretty little thing, bloodletting her own pride out at his feet? For a long set of years, Logan has believed there’s very little good left in the human species—very few people who are worth giving two fucks about. But she’s so galiant, defending some slut’s non-existent honor, drowning in her own humiliation and everything he can only imagine happened during a hen party gone sideways. 

“Oh, uh, well—” oh. How she says it, the little curve of her mouth. That accented “o”. It’s enough to make him insane, honestly. He’s been with her two hours and can hardly think past the twitch of his cock, the little ache that niggles in the back of his head. Behind his eyes. It gets a little hard to fight, the snapping air between the two of them—for a man who knows what it feels like, it’s difficult. She couldn’t be more nonplussed. Which says more than it needs too, makes it all the more sweet. ���Sorry, oh my gosh. I’m just a little—I don’t do things like this.”

And that is honorable, even if there’s very little honor left among the thieves of humanity. She is honorable. So saccharine and pretty it physically hurts him, drying out the back of his throat and knocking at his ribs like a damn jackhammer. Her eyes holding his, searching for anything else, are so deep and alive, bright in the way only Polaris could ever challenge—he suddenly forgets where he is, what century it is. How he got here, what he’s doing, reaching for the thin strap of her dress. 

The back of his knuckle gently skips over her skin, the strap of the dress. And before Logan can even manage a breath, his hand moves under her chin, tips it up a little. Unmoving, her eyes widen like two bright moons, light catching them and opening them up like oceans fully unpassable to the known universe. From here he can feel her pulse flying through her blood, and couldn't miss the butterflies in her stomach if he’d been on a different planet. And maybe she’s never been appreciated like this—maybe she’s never felt seen. 

Fuck, the things he could do to her. “Quit apologizin’ for bein’ sweet,” he manages a low rasp, the corner of his mouth ticking up with a little grin, “very few pretty things left in the world that’re sweet,” tipping her chin up a little further, his lips hover over hers. “And I bet you taste as good as you look, honey.” Tucking some hair behind her ear, he rubs one of her curls between the calluses on his fingers. 

He gets back in his car, and Logan drives. Because that's what he does—he drives. 

tags: @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @fandomxo00 @th3mrskory @blossoming-hotch

[littleprinces]

Day 11: Threesome F/M/M

STAYC J X OC x OC

Kinkvember Day 11

The neon lights of Seoul's bustling nightlife flickered as Jang Yeeun, a 19-year-old Korean beauty with brown short hair, sipped her drink at the crowded bar. Her slim, athletic figure was accentuated by a red dress that hugged her curves just right. She was here to unwind from her stressful job as a marketing executive, not to pick up men.

Across the room, two men, both 30-year-olds, were engaged in a lively conversation. One was a tall, muscular American named Lucas with short blond hair and blue eyes, the other was a lanky, dark-haired Korean named Min with striking green eyes. They were old friends who had reunited after years apart. Min noticed Yeeun first, nudging Lucas and whispering, "Look at that stunning woman over there."

Lucas followed Min's gaze and smiled. "She's gorgeous. Why don't you go talk to her?"

Min shook his head. "I'm not good at this kind of thing. You should go."

Lucas chuckled. "Alright, but only if you promise to back me up."

As Lucas approached Yeeun, she looked up and met his gaze. He flashed a confident smile and said, "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. I'm Lucas. And you are?"

Yeeun smiled back, amused. "I'm Yeeun. Nice to meet you, Lucas."

Lucas gestured to the empty seat next to her. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," Yeeun replied, scooting over to make room.

They chatted easily, the chemistry between them palpable. Lucas was charming and witty, and Yeeun found herself laughing more than she had in months. She was drawn to his confidence and charisma.

Min watched from a distance, smiling at the sight of his friend effortlessly charming Yeeun. He knew Lucas had a way with women, but he also knew that Lucas had a dark side, a side that craved more than just vanilla sex. Min wondered if Yeeun was ready for that.

After an hour of conversation, Lucas leaned in closer to Yeeun. "You know, I'm not the only one who finds you incredibly attractive," he whispered. "My friend over there has been watching us, and he can't take his eyes off you."

Yeeun looked over and met Min's gaze. She felt a shiver run down her spine. "Really?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lucas nodded. "Would you like to meet him? Maybe the three of us could get to know each other better."

Yeeun hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay, I'd like that."

Lucas smiled and signaled to Min, who joined them at the table. The three of them talked and laughed late into the night, the air thick with sexual tension.

Eventually, Lucas suggested they move the party back to his hotel room. Yeeun looked at Min, who gave her a reassuring smile. She decided to take a chance.

In the hotel room, the three of them sat on the couch, the air charged with anticipation. Lucas took the lead, kissing Yeeun softly on the lips. She responded eagerly, her body pressing against his. Min watched, his cock hardening in his pants as he imagined what was to come.

Lucas's hands roamed over Yeeun's body, cupping her breasts and squeezing her nipples through the fabric of her dress. Yeeun moaned softly, her breath coming in short gasps. Min moved closer, his hand finding its way to Yeeun's thigh. She spread her legs slightly, giving him better access.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to touch you," Min whispered in her ear. Yeeun shivered, her pussy already wet with anticipation.

Lucas pulled back and looked at Min. "She's all yours, buddy."

Min took over, his lips finding Yeeun's. He kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth. Yeeun moaned into his kiss, her hands pulling his shirt off. Min broke away and trailed kisses down her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders. He unzipped her dress and slipped it off, revealing her lace bra and panties.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," Lucas said, his voice thick with lust.

Min continued his exploration of Yeeun's body, his mouth finding her nipples through the lace. He sucked and nibbled, making Yeeun squirm with pleasure. Lucas watched, his cock aching in his pants.

Min slipped his hand into Yeeun's panties, finding her already wet pussy. He rubbed her clit, making her gasp and buck her hips. Lucas moved closer, his hand joining Min's in Yeeun's panties. Together, they explored her pussy, their fingers sliding in and out, making Yeeun moan with pleasure.

"You like that, don't you?" Lucas whispered. "You like having two men touch you."

Yeeun nodded, her breath coming in short gasps. "Yes...yes, I do."

Min and Lucas worked together, their hands and mouths exploring every inch of Yeeun's body. They took turns kissing her, their tongues dueling in her mouth. Min slipped off her bra, freeing her breasts. Lucas sucked and licked her nipples while Min fingered her pussy.

Yeeun was a writhing mass of pleasure, her body aching for more. She reached for Lucas's cock, her hand wrapping around the hard length. He groaned, his hips thrusting into her hand. Min slipped off her panties, his fingers playing with her pussy lips.

"You're so wet," he whispered. "I can't wait to taste you."

He moved between her legs, his mouth replacing his fingers. Yeeun cried out as his tongue found her clit, licking and sucking. She bucked her hips, her hands gripping Lucas's cock tighter.

Lucas watched Min eat Yeeun's pussy, his own cock throbbing with desire. He wanted to fuck her, wanted to feel her tight pussy around his cock. But first, he wanted to watch Min make her come.

Min's tongue worked magic on Yeeun's clit, bringing her to the edge of orgasm. She could feel the pleasure building, her body tensing with anticipation. Lucas leaned in, his mouth finding her nipple. He sucked and nibbled, his hand wrapping around her breast.

Yeeun came with a cry, her body convulsing with pleasure. Min licked her pussy, drinking her juices. Lucas moved up, his cock poised at her entrance. He looked into her eyes, asking for permission. Yeeun nodded, her body still trembling with aftershocks.

Lucas slipped inside her slowly, giving her time to adjust to his size. Yeeun moaned, her hands gripping his shoulders. He began to move, his cock sliding in and out of her pussy. Min moved behind her, his cock pressing against her ass.

"You want both of us, don't you?" Min whispered in her ear.

Yeeun nodded, her breath coming in short gasps. "Yes...yes, I do."

Min slipped a finger into her ass, lubing it with her juices. He pushed it in deeper, making Yeeun moan. He added another finger, stretching her. Yeeun pushed back against him, her body ready for more.

Min replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding in slowly. Yeeun gasped, the sensation of being filled by both men overwhelming. Lucas watched, his cock throbbing with desire. He began to move again, his hips thrusting into Yeeun's pussy.

The three of them moved together, their bodies synchronizing. Yeeun could feel both cocks inside her, the pleasure intense. She moaned and cried out, her body aching for more.

Min and Lucas took turns fucking her, their cocks sliding in and out of her pussy and ass. They switched positions, trying different angles and depths. Yeeun was lost in a haze of pleasure, her body on fire.

They moved to the bed, Lucas lying on his back. Yeeun straddled him, her pussy sliding down onto his cock. She rode him, her hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm. Min knelt behind her, his cock poised at her ass. He slipped in slowly, making Yeeun moan.

The three of them moved together, their bodies slick with sweat. Yeeun could feel both cocks inside her, the pleasure building with each thrust. She rode Lucas's cock, her body tensing with anticipation.

Min reached around, his hand finding her clit. He rubbed it, making Yeeun gasp and buck her hips. The pleasure was too much, too intense. She came with a scream, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm.

Lucas groaned, his cock throbbing inside her. He came with a groan, his body shuddering with the force of his release. Min followed, his cock pulsing inside her ass.

The three of them collapsed on the bed, their bodies entwined. Yeeun lay between them, her body aching with pleasure. She looked from one man to the other, a smile on her face.

"That was...incredible," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lucas and Min smiled, their eyes filled with satisfaction. They had found something special in Yeeun, something worth exploring. And they intended to do just that.

[ryywyd]

HYFR

Wnba!Paige bueckers x black!Oc

Nsfw smut w/ plot, they went to scissor city ;) Author notes. This is my first time posting on tumblr #retiredwattpadgirly but my drafts are full so I’m finally posting. This might have two more parts (idk haven’t decided yet.) oh! And this ain’t proofread sorry

The restaurant lights dimmed the room as the low chatter from the surrounding guess filed the rest of the space, in corner set Saida and Paige both low eyed looking at each other with nothing but lust.

The girl sitting in front of Paige had transformed entirely from the person she had known fours years prior. Her once bare skin was now adorned with black ink and piercings. The change did not bother Paige; in fact, it turned her on more than she expected.

The two had sent a year together at UConn becoming more than acquainted before Saida transferred to ucla, the two wasn't in a relationship but they had an understanding but Paige wanted more than that On the other hand, Saida, influenced by her strict religious upbringing, she couldn't bring herself to it, which led them ending things ,.

And Finally reconnecting with each other– bring them here now, after Paige spotted Saida sitting court side at one of her games. Pulling her back in making her realize why she wanted all of those years ago.

"I'm sorry, what was you saying ?" Paige spoke shaking her head, she had completely tuned out everything Saida had said, she was more focused on how the light hit Saida brown skin that made the black link pop out and how the swoop from her straighten hair fell in her face.

"I said it's nice we could do this." Saida repeated as her eyes fell onto Paige's lips. ' y'know with how i ended everything.. I'm sorry again.,

"You don't gotta' keep apologizing, I'm not holding it against you " She husked her voice low 'we good now.,

"So.. was that your girlfriend ?, Paige questioned changing the subject and breaking the uncomfortable silence between them  "at the game with you ?"

"Something like that?it's more of a situationship, I don't know It's complicated." Saida shrugged pushing her straw around, her eyes roaming over Paige.

"If you gotta' girlfriend..what you doing here with me" Paige tried to push down the jealousy that was starting to show.

Saida shook her head biting the corner of her lip motioning for Paige to lean in,lifting up from your seat meeting her halfway whispering into her ear ' because I want you so bad p;

"We can get this shit to go, you gotta prove it to me ma;

In the span of thirty minutes the two had already made it back to Saida apartment and they couldn't keep their hands off of each other particularly ripping each others clothes off. Stumbling into the room, four years away apart felt like a decade and they were feining  for each other.

Paige gripped her jaw making her mouth open slightly "Open." She demanded as she watched her open up her mouth some more sticking her tongue out

Her split dripped in Saida mouth before she pulled her in, sucking on her tongue "I'm bout' to fuck you so good." She mumbled against her as she moved lips back to hers. As she roughly pulled the skirt Saida wore down rubbing her through the thin lace.

" w-wait, I wanna eat you first." She whimpered out feeling her apply more pressure against her wet cunt, she hummed not hearing ignoring what she said.

"You wanna make me feel good?" Paige asked softly watching as her breaths got heavier as she rubbed between her wet slit "tell me how much you want me."

"Please." Saida plead, she was all over the place she didn't know if the pleads were for Paige to keep touching her or for Paige to let her taste her.

"Get on your knees."

Paige lift her bottom half of the bed, pulling her jeans down along with her boxers repositioning herself at the edge of the bed. Spreading her legs wider; crawling in between her legs kissing the inside of her thighs Paige buckled her hips moving her wet cunt closer.

"Don't tease." Paige breathe out gripping saida's cheeks moving her face into, latching her mouth onto Paige moan softly against the blonde.

"Fuck! You so nasty baby." Paige amused moving her hands into saida's hair pulling her closer than she already was grinding into her face.

Saida was restless more eager to get the blonde to come on her tongue than anything, the vibration from her moans sent Paige over the edge

"Come for me p; make a mess in my mouth." Pulling back enough for Paige to hear her. Her hand creep up sliding a finger into her leaking hole with ease. Attaching her mouth back onto her clit sucking as her fingers move

her fingers curled against the blonde g spot. Paige let out weak moan as her hand flew up gripping the back of her neck, nails digging into her skin as she arched her back.

"Don't stop" the girl panted as she tangled her free hand into the dark hair and tugged. Paige whimpered, feeling her slip back inside of her. She didn't even know that she had done that. It didn't matter though, because it felt amazing. She couldn't hold back, her high finally hitting her.

Saida grinned as she felt the girl's pussy clench around her fingers. Her cum flooded her mouth, her sweet taste making her moan.

"I'm boutta cum, fuck sai right there." Paige whimpered gripping the girl hair harder, moving her her closer holding her head down riding out her orgasm,

finally letting go letting the girl up for air pulling her up by her hair pulling her into a sloppy kiss. Paige tilt her head back Opening her mouth signaling for Saida to spit in her mouth "You gon' let me fuck you now ?"

Paige questioned pulling the girl onto her lap, roughly pulling the thin lace to side flipping them over' let me hear you baby,

"Fuck me please."

Paige shot up, straddling Saida right thigh then lifting her left leg up letting it rest on her broad shoulder. She rolled her hips forward, meeting the girl's sloppy cunt with her own. They both were so wet, arousal dripping onto both of their thighs.

You feel so fucking good, fuck." The younger girl groaned, her head falling back onto the mattress, mouth agape. Paige's hands ran over the girl's smooth legs, fingers dancing over the girl's pussy. Her thumb circled her clit, teasing it.

"Paige.." she breathed out, her hips thrusting up trying to meet the blonde touch.

"Look at that making a fuckin’ mess." Paige cooed her eyes focused on where her pussy gushes onto the girls moving her hips to get the perfect angle.

"D-don't stop baby please." Saida whimper as Paige spreader her legs wider with a strong grip on her thigh fucking herself into the bed making the headboard hit against the wall repeatedly.

Paige let out a groan grinding into the girl faster than she was before , this time the headboard bangs against the wall louder than it already was , covering the filthy sounds of your pussys wetness mixing together.

"oh fuck p- Paige Paige !" Saida frantically chant her name over and over her hands moving all over her before landing on her forearms and digging her nails into them.

"you like when I fuck you like this? Like it when my pussy makes a mess all over yours hm?" She breathlessly whispered, her hips stutter and her nails digging into the girl skin

Such a fuckin’ slut i'm gonna cum all over that pussy" she breathlessly whispers. her hips stutter and her hands grip your thighs harshly.

"Cum all over me baby " Saida whine, not breaking eye contact as her hips jerk forward as she desperately chased after her orgasm

"fuck, fuck, oh god-!" she gasps, eyes squeezing shut as she cums. A mixture of both of the girls hot strings of thick cum landed on Saida lower stomach, dripping down and onto both of their folds. it's all too much. Paige can feel her body tense against saida’s , her fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

Paige rolled off the girl, gently placing tender kisses along her shoulder and up to her jawline. She raised her hand to softly trace the love make she had left scattered around her neck.

“You can’t leave me ever again.”

Author note #2. I hope yall liked this fr, I gave up towards the end.

[canthelpit0]

Come through

Pairing: Cocky!Player!Chris x Reader

Word count: 4.5k+

Summary: chris hand always been a player. Would that change once he becomes famous? -no.

Warnings: smut, player!Chris, influencer!Reader, party, mentions of drinking/tobacco/weed, pet names (ma, pretty boy, pretty lady, sweetheart, etc.), bathroom sex, semi public, oral m!receiving, fingering, p in v (protected), praise kink, swearing, no use of y/n, no oc, written in 2nd pov

(A/N: English is not my first language, and I always appreciate feedback enjoy! love y'all. this is heavily inspired by come through, the song.)

Chris had always been sort of a fuckboy.

And with his growing fame it wasn’t getting any better.

Chris has a huge ego. Sure people would always say him and his brothers are nice and humble, but that doesn’t mean Chris can’t be cocky at times.

He didn’t drink. He was underage, though in LA nobody really cared about that anyway. He just didn’t like drinking.

Chris and his brothers would always be invited to some random LA parties.

At first Chris never wanted to go. He didn’t like partying. He didn’t like the smell of alcohol, tobacco and weed.

However he soon came to realize that his looks and fame would get girls swooning over him.

He was being a player and he knew it. However none of the girls he’s ever been with complained.

He made sure they know that it would be a one night stand, and that he doesn’t date. And it worked for him.

★ ★ ★

You were an upcoming YouTuber and influencer. You were starting to gain more and more followers. People were starting to notice you more

You were known for your humor and your witty comebacks.

And as much as you would like to deny it, People didn’t just loved you for your personality, but they also loved your body.

You were gorgeous, To put it lightly.

So obviously when Chris saw you on his for you page a week ago, picking out an outfit to put on for some place you were going to that day, he thought you were hot.

Not that he’d do anything about it.

He wasn’t the type of guy to slide into someone’s dm’s. Because quite frankly he didn’t care that much.

★ ★ ★

But when he saw you at the party he was attending tho…

You’d been carelessly dancing. You weren’t drinking, even tho you were 21. You didn’t want to drink today. You wanted to have sober fun and hang out with your friends.

Your friends always did and said the craziest things when drunk. And watching it as the sober designated driver was hilarious.

You feel big hands being placed on your waist delicately.

You turn around to see who it was and to your surprise it was one of the sturniolo triplets.

Chris.

He’s bold for just touching you like that. But for some reason it was hot. Maybe it was just the air laced in weed that was getting to you, but you were enjoying this.

So you simply dance with him.

After a while you both leave the middle of the crowd going to the kitchen to talk. The kitchen being way less crowded than the living room of this house party.

“You’re bold.” You chuckle pointing out watching as his expression morphed into one of amusement and lust as he checks you out.

“Couldn’t help myself ma”

“Sure you couldn’t, pretty boy” you chuckle rolling your eyes at the statement.

Chris, to the public was known to be a sweetheart. But in LA, around other influencers he was known to have quite frequent hook ups. And he was known to never leave any of the girls not satisfied.

You, having moved to LA recently for your career, have heard all about it. People were ‘warning’ you, but no one was outright telling you it was a stupid idea. Because was it tho?

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing here anyway?” His goofy grin is wide as he stares back into your eyes.

His eyes are a light shade of blue, but in the lights of the party and his blown out pupils they look dark. His brown hair long, and a mess.

After people had told you about him and his brothers (And particularly Chris’ reputation), you had searched them up and watched a few of their videos. They were quite funny.

And Chris in particular seemed to not be able to take anything seriously.

“Nothing, just having fun.”

You shrug taking a sip from your red solo cup. It was filled with plain water. Chris raised an eyebrow at that.

“You’re not drinking?” He can’t help the small laugh he lets out at that. Tho he is secretly glad you’re not. This was his chance to get you in bed, but he wasn’t going to do anything with a drunk girl.

“No,” you chuckle back. “Designated driver” you raise your free hand in surrender as if it was a crime.

He chuckles at your antics his eyes trailing over your face over to your body once more.

“Eyes up here sweetheart.”

His eyes snap back to yours his goofy grin staying right where it was.

“Sorry ma, you’re just really distracting.” He smiles looking down at you.

You weren’t that much shorter than him. But granted you were wearing high heels. He wasn’t even that tall himself though.

You were wearing a tiny mini dress. One that ends right below your ass. Your cleavage being low giving him a great view of your boobs.

“Oh, I’m distracting?”

You tease. You take a step closer to him, stepping into his personal space as you tilt your head up to look at him better.

His hand goes to the side of your jaw rubbing his thumb over your cheek gently as if asking for consent. You wrap your arm Around his neck pulling him down connecting your lips.

The sweet kiss turns more heated when his hand moved from your jaw to the back of your neck. His other hand holding you by the small of your back keeping your body flush against himself.

His tongue graces your lips asking for entrance with you eagerly give, parting your mouth slightly so he can slip his tongue into your mouth.

You make out, your tongues tangling in each other as you simply kiss for a moment.

His tongue hungrily exploring your mouth. He leans into you more tilting your head back more, kissing you with all the lust in his body. Kissing you Like he wants to devour you.

You eventually pull apart to breath. His lips immediately meeting your jawline. He kisses down your jawline moving down to your neck to your collarbone.

“Damn you smell amazing.” He breaths out. His voice strained from the previous kiss.

“Thank you” you chuckle your hand finding its way into his messy waves. You scratch his scalp with your freshly manicured nails causing him to let out a low groan.

He pulls back slightly. He leaves a quick peck on your lips before looking at you again.

“How about we go somewhere.” His voice low and raspy. Laced with the attraction and lust he feels for you.

You just hum. He starts to drag you back through the living room, through the crowd of people. Getting to some random bathroom. He opens the door and lets you walk in first.

You immediately stand in front of the mirror, leaning over slightly to fix your hair.

He closes and locks the door behind himself. He stands behind you watching you through the mirror. You make eye contact. In this new lighting his eyes seem clearer.

He stares into your soul as you push back from the sink.

You swiftly turn around and sink to your knees in front of him.

Chris would’ve never asked. But wich guy doesn’t like head.

“So eager” he chuckles. His hand goes to the top of your head petting it gently. Before he picks up your chin, making you look up at him again.

Your head is tilted back as you look up at him through your lashes. you know he’s probably had countless woman in this same position. But it never got old for him.

And he liked seeing you like the is anyway

“You look so pretty like this you know.” He mumbles before leaning down and leaving a heated kiss on your lips.

He stands back up straight, and you can’t help the way your eyes trail to his crotch. It was right in front of your face and you were getting impatient.

Before you know it your hands go to the top of his jeans, tugging on them gently. You were asking for permission without asking.

He chuckles at your eagerness, undoing his belt, then unbuttoning the jeans and letting you slide them down.

You can already see his huge erection through his boxers. Your mouth was already watering at the sight.

You pull down his boxers fast. His length springing free, hitting his abdomen.

You flinch back slightly. You look at his length with an eyebrow raised not doing anything for a moment just admiring.

You’ve never seen a dick be this pretty. It had a thick vain running up the side. It was long, at least a good 8 inches. It was thick, not too thick, but enough that you knew the stretch would burn.

“You good?” He asks. He was clearly holding in a laugh. His hand goes to your hair, still just patting the top of your head.

“You’re sure you’re white?” You tease one hand cupping his member as you start to gently and slowly jerk him off.

“Definitely, sweetheart” he chuckles rolling his eyes at the comment. People always asked about it. Wich is fine since most people weren’t used to his size. the constant questioning was so annoying sometimes.

But the way you teased him with that sentence was just too good.

His red tip is already leaking pre cum. He eagerly waits for you to start. You press a small peck on it, while looking up at him your eyes staying locked on his.

You start to kitten lick the tip. You watch as he lets out a slightly shaky sigh at the contact.

“C’mon ma, don’t tease.”

You pull away slightly chuckling at the statement. You teasingly blow air on it, watching as he shivers. But before he can start complaining about your teasing you take his entire tip in your mouth swirling your tongue around it.

“Yeah, like that.” He sighs softly. He rubs your cheek with the back of his hand as you hollow out your cheeks to give him more pleasure.

His hand moves to my hair taking it and putting it in a makeshift ponytail. You start to take him as deep as you could, starting to slowly bob your head. Sucking and swirling your tongue. You take him as deep as you can jerking off what you can’t fit with your manicured hand.

The sounded coming from it are sinful, and so are his low moans and grunts.

When you hear his soft grunts turn into moans you can tell he’s getting close. You pull off with a pop. You stroke him gently, and then teasingly lick a stripe up his shaft.

“You like that?” You tease licking at it. He groans in annoyance. He thrusts his hips back to get more friction from your hand.

“Please keep going.”

You lick your lips briefly watching him. His eyes meet yours. You chuckle starting to suck him off again. This time you do it more vigorously and faster than before. His dick repeatedly hitting the back of your throat as you slightly gag around it.

Chris’ grip in your hair tightens as he starts to tug in it. He holds you in place stopping your movements as he starts to harshly thrust in and out of your mouth.

The sounds of your moans send sensations of pleasure through him. Every sinful sound echos through the small bathroom, making the music outside sound non existent to you two.

His cock is repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes water at the harsh feeling. You try to gag as little as possible.

“Fucking- swallow ‘aight” he breaths out harshly. You hum as best as you could. The sensation tingles through his spine. And with a last thrust you feel his cum pore down your throat. You try your best to swallow as much as you could.

He gently pulls out. His thumb rubbing the corner of your lips where some of it had leaked.

He puts his thumb on your plump and swollen lips. And without a secound thought you suck on his thumb. You blink away the tears that’d been forming.

The sight is enough to have him going all over again.

His grip on your hair had loosened, but he still pulls you up by it gently.

He turns you around, so that you’re facing the mirror your hands on the sink. Your ass presented to him.

His eyes meet yours through the mirror once more. Seemingly asking for consent, to wich you nod.

His hand starts to trail over the side of your thigh slightly under your short dress.

“Words baby”

“Yes Chris- please” you waste no time asking him. You want him to touch you where you crave him the most.

“Gonna be a good little slut now?” He teases. His eyes stay locked on yours through the mirror.

“Mhm” you mumble watching him. You feel him start to pull up your dress. He bunches it up right over your ass.

His fingers go to trail over your slick wet folds. Chris pushes the lacy thong to the side. He rubs his fingers briefly over your clit, before going to tease your cunt.

“Words, sweetheart.” He repeats, his eyes staying locked on yours. He had no problem teasing you until you comply.

“Yes-“ you get cut off by a Moan. When he slams two of his long fingers into you.

Your body jolts forward, your thighs hitting the cold sink. You grimace at the feeling.

“Wow, so sensitive?” He teases leaning over again to leave a quick peck behind your ear.

He starts to plunge his fingers in and out of your cunt. He roughly fingers you, his long fingers curl just right to hit your sweet spot.

You let out a breathless moan letting your head fall forward. You were leaning on your arms for support.

You feel his big hand wrap around your throat as he pulls you back up. “Now, now, baby watch yourself.” He teases.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me” he taunts. You flutter your eyes open. You feel his fingering get rougher as you can feel your climax rapidly approaching. You’re tempted to close your eyes again, but you’re sure Chris would edge you or something.

So you try your best to keep them open and staring at his face.

“Good girl. Yeah. Just like that.” He praises. His low words sending tingles to your core. You can practically feel yourself get wetter at how words and the sound of his voice alone.

Your wetness is loud. The lewd sounds bounce off of the bathroom walls. That along with your sweet low moans, while you try to keep yourself together.

“You like my praise honey?” He asks in a sweet tone. His words sound so innocent. Unlike the very things he’s doing to you right now.

“Yes- god” you whine, this time not hesitating to answer.

He chuckles at your eagerness speeding up his pace to give you your release. His fingers curl at just the right spots, reaching places you couldn’t reach by yourself.

“I’m close-“

“I know.” Chris grins keeping his eyes on yours through the mirror. His hand moves higher from your neck to your jaw, cupping your face roughly.

He turns your head to face him. He roughly crashes his lips onto yours. You try hard to focus on the kiss, but the way he finger fucks you has you weak in the knees. The kiss is sloppy and messy. His tongue explores your mouth as you try hard to focus.

You whine loudly. His lips catching the moan as he only picks up pace even more. He gets the hint that you’re close. And before you know it, you’re coming around his fingers.

He lets go of your face. You lean further on your arms. Your Hands harshly gripping onto the sink. You let your head fall forward as you pant harshly.

He gently pulls out his fingers. His eyes focused on the way you’re throbbing around nothing.

He sucks his fingers clean humming at the taste of your cunt on them. “Did so well for me ma” he hums reassuringly, pressing a sweet kiss on your neck.

“You think you can take another, sweet girl?” He says softly.

“Please.” Your breath out your voice shaky. You pick up your head looking at him through the mirror again.

He leans down briefly to his jeans that were still pooling down at his feet.

Chris puts his hand on your hip His eyes locking with yours through the mirror. He holds out a condom with one hand. He leans over you to leave a quick peck on your shoulder.

“I’m clean” you raise an eyebrow at him through the mirror. He doesn’t respond. “And I’m on birth control..” you trail off watching him.

He grins letting out a low laugh that seems to vibrate through his entire chest.

He presses his chest up against your back as his arm wraps around your torso. He leaves another kiss on your shoulder, trailing it up to your neck and right under your ear.

“I’m not taking any chances ma”

His voice is low and seductive. The tone sending vibrations right to your core.

“Fine for me” you shrug as you watch him lean back. His eyes lock on your ass. He licks his lips.

Chris roughly rips open the condom package with his teeth. Rolling the condom over himself fast. He was eager to get into you as fast as possible.

He hums in response, caressing your ass gently, his other hand guiding his dick through your soaked folds.

He gently starts to push into you. Letting you take the tip first. Once he feels you relax he rams in the rest of his cock.

You let out another breathless moan at the impact. Chris doesn’t move right away tho, he wants to make it last as long as possible.

“Good” he praises lowly rubbing your hips soothingly. Your body was tense, and he was waiting for you to adjust just a little bit.

You let out a shaky sigh pushing yourself back on him. He takes the hint that he can move now.

So before you realize it, he’s relentlessly pounding into you. You let out a squealed moan at the sudden intense feeling of his movements.

“Oh- fuck-“

He chuckles, and suddenly you feel a harsh slap on your butt. You wince at the harshness. Chris’ hand goes to knead your ass, easing out the pain.

His other hand trails from your waist to the small of your back to arch it more, consequently pushing you closer to the sink.

You lean over the sink. You try hard to keep your head up and look at him. But with the way he is hitting every spot inside of you, it’s hard for you to focus right now.

Chris notices the struggle. One of his hands trail from your hip, up your back teasingly. Before he grabs your hair roughly, putting it in a makeshift ponytail.

“Does the pretty girl like getting her hair pulled like a slut?”

The way he tugs on your hair, the way his sharp eyes trail over your body , and then lock on your eyes through the mirror. It’s all so hot to you.

You let out a shaky breath between Moans. “Yes-“ before you can say anything more you feel him tug harder on your hair And his thrusts becoming harsher.

His eyes train back onto your ass And the way it looks when he thrusts into you. The way his cock disappears in your wet cunt. It’s so captivating to watch for him. He could stare at that sight for hours.

“Gorgeous girl wants to get fucked like this?” He questions teasingly. Another harsh slap echos through the bathroom, But it feels so euphoric.

Your eyes close momentarily at the feeling. Before you feel him rub your ass again. Chris tugs on your hair again, to wich you open your eyes.

“Keep your eyes open and watch me fuck you”

Chris’ words are harsh. He is being dead serious. His breaths sharp and his tone laced with lust.

You only let out a mumble to wich he pulls on your hair harsher. And another smack echos through the room. You jolt forward again at the sudden impact, but this time he doesn’t ease the pain away. Instead his pace gets even rougher.

The sound of skin clapping, and the lewd sounds of your soaked cunt are loud, Creating a sinful melody.

“Touch yourself ma.” He huffs out harshly keeping up the pace. Chris keeps his fingers tangled in your hair pulling on it. While his other hand stays firmly on your hip. The harshness at wich he is holding onto you would be enough to leave bruises.

Without thinking you reach one hand down starting to rub your clit furiously, chasing your own high.

“Close” you moan as you keep repeatedly rubbing your clit. And the way Chris’ cock is hitting your cervix only intensifies the feeling.

“Come around me baby” you’ve been pulsing around him all this time. You were already squeezing him so tight. What he wouldn’t give right now to just feel your cunt squeeze him while you come.

So he keeps going. Until you let out a loud whine. You close your legs as best as you could and You clench around Chris harshly.

Chris keeps up pace. His eyes locking to your ass. Watching the way his cock disappears into you over and over. Watching the way the condom he’s wearing is covered in your slik wetness.

What he wouldn’t give to just raw dog it and feel your cum on his bare dick right now. He was tempted to actually just take off the condom to see and feel this without one.

Chris’ thrusts become more messy. But his pace doesn’t let up. Until his hips stutter and he lets out a breathless moan burying himself into you one last time.

His jaw is dropped. He moves his hand from your hip, instead wrapping that arm around your waist, holding you close. He leans over your back keeping himself inside for a moment. Chris burries his face in the crook of your neck. You both breathe heavily at your previous orgasms.

His hand in your hairs loosens. Until he fully lets go. His hand rubbing your scalp since he’d been pulling on it relentlessly.

“Did so good for me ma” he mumbles. His face stays buried in your neck for a moment.

You place your hand back on the sink again, trying to catch your breath and steady yourself.

You’d just fucked a random influencer. Some random player. But, god, was that worth it. No wonder none of his one night stands ever complained. That was fucking amazing.

You just mumble out a quick agreement.

He stands up straight. Gently pulling out as to not hurt you or anything. He takes off the condom.

But while he gets rid of it you don’t even pay attention to him. You look at yourself in the mirror. As much as you want to regret it, you can’t.

You pull your thong back into place and pull your mini dress back down.

You examine your face. Your hair was messy from the pulling, and your make up was only slightly smudged. You’d almost cried while deepthroating him, but you luckily hadn’t. Tho your mascara was still slightly smudged.

You could feel your cunt still ache.

You can see Chris pull up his pants from the corner of the mirror. And then fasten his belt back.

“You okay?” Chris asks his arms wrapping a round you. He looks at you through the mirror . His expression is soft and more caring than you’d expect. Most guys would’ve left by now.

“Mhm.” You mumble watching his expression through the mirror. He narrows his eyes at you.

“Do you regret it?” He asks softly. His tone sweet, like he is talking about something normal.

You purse your lips trying to hold back a smile. The fact that he cared to ask if you regret it or not. Everyone told you he’s a fuck boy, and that is motto is literally ‘hit and quit’. But why was he being nice then?

“No” you speak. And you can’t help the small chuckle that leaves your lips.

He turns you around so you face him. He presses a quick peck on your lips. Before he leans over and grabs a random towel off a rack. He wets it slightly in the sink behind you.

And then he sinks onto his knees in front of you. He looks up at you pulling up your dress again slightly.

“What’re you doing?” You question. a chuckle leaves your lips at the sight of Chris on his knees in front of you.

He leans in leaving a soft kiss on your thigh.

“I’m not letting you walk out with your cum running down your thighs ma.” Chris laughs, he then runs the damp towel over your inner thighs.

He cleans you up enough for you to not feel so sticky anymore. He places your panties back. Then he gets up again. Chris pulls down your dress for you before placing another kiss on your lips.

He throws the towel into some laundry bag carelessly. At your curious gaze he explains. “A friend of mine is throwing this party.” He shrugs.

There is a silence for a second where you two just look at each other. Neither of you say anything. Until you speak up again.

“Do you always wear condoms when you hook up with girls?”

You ask before the words even register in your mind. And once they do a blush creeps over your cheeks.

“Yeah. I won’t wear one next time if you don’t want me too.” He chuckles. “There will be a next time?” You question.

Chris was the type to only hook up with a girl once. He probably didn’t even remember half of their names.

Instead of answering though, he leans in and kisses you. The kiss is slower, not heated like the previous one shad been.

One of your hands moves from his neck to grab his phone out of his back pocket.

You Lean back slightly. You type your number into his phone. Then you hand it back to him.

He grins at the new contact on his screen.

“I’ll see you around pretty boy.”

You smile giving him another kiss on the lips. And this one lingers. You slide out of his grasp opening the bathroom door. he watches with a goofy grin, as you leave.

You leave going straight back into the crowd of drunk influencers. Trying to search for your drunk friends that would be around here somewhere.

You know he’s a player. So you don’t know if he’ll call you. You don’t know if you’re special, and if he treated you different than others. But if it came down to it you’d at least tried.

But,

He’s not into dating.

Materlist

(A/N: I literally wrote this within the span of one day. I feel like this is probably the best thing I've written so far. Hope you enjoyed <33)

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @ecliphttlunar

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 15 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna felt safe at Bob's house. A few days there, and she was sleeping and eating better than she had in years. It all felt so easy. But for Bob, her presence was both a balm and a temptation that he didn't know how to handle.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, bruises on Anna's arm, adult language, masturbation, 18+

Length: 6200 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

On Wednesday morning, Anna woke up in some sort of warm cocoon. She didn't feel the drafty air on her face like she usually did when she slept on her mattress on the floor. She felt like she was being absorbed by some sort of soft, fancy bedding, and her pillow was moving slightly beneath her.

"Anna. We have to get ready for work."

She knew that voice intimately. It was sweet and sincere but laced with a bit of sleepiness she'd never witnessed before. She felt goosebumps on the back of her neck as she realized she must still be asleep and dreaming of Bob.

"Not yet," she mumbled. "I'm having a good dream."

Her pillow moved a little more as she tried her hardest to cling to the last threads of sleep. She didn't want to have to get up and leave this warmth behind. Especially not to go to work where Kevin could easily find her and make her life hell again.

"We have to get up."

Anna groaned and opened her eyes, and she instantly realized she wasn't in her bed, nor was she alone. She jolted, fingers grasping along what she thought was her pillow when in fact it was Bob's chest. With her hands braced on his shoulders, she tried to push herself off of him, and that's when she noticed he was smiling softly.

"What were you dreaming about?"

How was she supposed to answer that question? She was curled up on his chest, warmer and more comfortable than she ever remembered being in her life, and of course she'd been dreaming about him. It wasn't until that moment that she remembered why she was here, and then the smile that was forming on her own lips slipped away.

"We should get ready for work," she whispered, scrambling out of his bed. When she grabbed some clean clothes and headed for the bathroom, she glanced back at him with his hands propped behind his head, his eyes following her every move. 

Was she insane? She should have insisted on sleeping in the other room. The problem was that she wanted Bob so badly, and even though he knew everything now, she didn't want to hurt him. She could deal with hurting herself, but not him again. But all she was going to be able to think about for the rest of the day was snuggling with him, and then she was going to have to come back here again tonight. He would probably insist on that.

She got ready as quickly as she could, changing into her work outfit while she was in the bathroom and then braiding her hair. When she opened the door, Bob was standing there in his flight suit with the sleeves tied at the waist, making her heart skip around in her chest. His unshaven face and messy hair had her practically panting, dying to reach out for him. And then his eyes trailed down to the bruises on her arm, reminding her that she would need to wear her cardigan again all day.

"I'll make breakfast," he promised. "Just give me a couple minutes to shave."

"Okay."

She took some time to separate out her dirty laundry, knowing she would need to take care of that later, and then she went downstairs. She started poking around in the refrigerator, trying to see if there was something she could start making so he didn't have to do it. Then Bob was there again, right behind her. When she looked at him, his soft hair was perfect, and his face was smooth.

"Do you like scrambled eggs?" he asked, looking past her into the refrigerator.

"I like everything," she told him, wishing she could just kiss him like she wanted to. 

"I can make them fancy with some cheese," he said with a cute little grin. "Maybe tomorrow if we get up earlier, I can do omelettes."

Anna wasn't going to make it. How was she supposed to just be here with Bob and not touch him? He knew about Kevin, and he was still being so lovely, she wanted to scream. "That sounds great," she whispered. "But you have to let me do the dishes later."

He agreed, and soon Anna was eating a hot breakfast, something she hadn't had in a very long time. And that wasn't all, because after she took the dishes to the sink, Bob insisted on packing her a lunch. In his own khaki green lunchbox that said TOP GUN BOB on it and had a velcro enclosure at the top. When he went to hand it to her, she threw her arms around his neck.

"Thank you," she breathed, inhaling his scent and remembering how warm he kept her all night.

He chuckled and said, "It's nothing special. Jess should be here soon to pick you up. Will you... text me if Kevin shows up?"

Anna wanted to ask him what he would do about it if Kevin did in fact show up, but she simply promised him that she would let him know. Then Jess pulled up, and Bob handed her his spare house key which was on a twenty sided die keychain. She smiled down at her palm before looking up at him. "Have a good day, Bob." 

"I'll pick you up later if Jess doesn't bring you back here first."

She nodded, took one last look at him in his flight suit, and then ran out to Jessica's car at the curb with her work bag and lunch. "Good morning," Anna sang in a cheery voice, making her friend laugh. 

"Girl. Do I even want to know why you're staying with Bob?"

Anna sighed as she looked out the window at the neighboring houses as Jessica started to drive. "Kevin's in town, and he bruised my arm, and he tracked me down at work, and then he also knows where I live. But Bob pushed him against the wall, and I thought he was going to punch him, and then he insisted I come stay with him where it's more secure, and now I'm going to figure out how to get my manuscript."

Jessica swerved slightly. "What?!"

Anna laughed softly. "It's all good." And she honestly believed it was. For now. 

--------------------------

"Tally! Coyote at five o'clock low!" 

Nat responded seamlessly to Bob's commands, immediately dipping down below the horizon to get Javy on missile lock. Bob loved these kinds of drills, because he was always the fastest WSO to catch on to the training schemes. And Nat always followed his instructions, making her the fastest pilot to respond. 

Honestly, he felt like he was on cloud nine right now. Waking up to Anna's body draped across his and her cheek resting over his heart was almost too good to be true. He didn't move for twenty minutes while she continued to doze, rather he used the time to count her freckles in the soft, early morning light. He could have gladly stayed there all day, and he thought she would have as well. However, she did seem a little startled when she woke up fully, but when he handed her the lunch he packed, she was back in his arms one last time.

It didn't really matter though. He wouldn't touch her without permission. As Nat soared past Javy, Bob made a face. Clearly he wasn't opposed to accepting Anna's touches though. He just wished this whole scenario made more sense to him. Clearly Anna and Kevin were over. She told him as much before, but now Bob had seen it with his own eyes. He was absolutely disgusted by the way Kevin yelled at her, but it just made him want her more. And the fact that Anna wanted to keep fighting made him feel like he needed her.

"Bob! High or low?" Nat shouted, and he had to scramble to locate Javy again. 

"High! Eight o'clock high, Phoenix!"

With one swift maneuver, she took him out, and when they landed, she wrapped him up in a hug. "You're unbeatable today. Nobody else stood a chance." She narrowed her eyes and added, "You have a look about you. Oh my god! You got laid again! Don't tell me it was Anna."

She looked both delighted and terrified, and Bob just rolled his eyes. "Can't I look happy without getting laid?"

"Hmm, I know I can't," she said with a smirk. "Go ahead and keep your secrets," she murmured before running off to harass Bradley.

As Bob started walking back to the lounge, he dug his phone out of his helmet bag and almost tripped when he saw that Anna sent him a selfie of her eating lunch an hour ago. She was all smiles with the sandwich he made in her hand, and his heart thudded in his chest as he read the text accompanying it.

Anna Webber: Thanks for making me the perfect lunch. And you know that particularly good dream I had last night? It was about you.

"Fuck," he whispered, feeling even more exhilarated by his text thread than he did from being in the air. He dropped his bag at his feet on the tarmac and quickly typed back to her. 

I can try to make you another perfect lunch tomorrow. And if you decide you want to share my bed again and have another particularly good dream tonight, you should tell me about it as soon as you wake up. Before you get out of bed. 

He hit send. He had nothing to lose. Kevin could eat shit for all he cared. He would have pounded him into the wall if Anna didn't stop him. Not that he wanted to resort to violence himself. He just couldn't stand it when Anna was in tears getting screamed at.

"You coming, man?" Mickey asked, waving his hand in front of Bob's face. "I have something so cool I want to show you for our campaign. Jess will probably hate it, but I think it's great."

Bob followed him to the lounge, but he kept his phone in his hand just in case Anna wrote back, and when she did, he stood up and completely ignored Mickey's rambling. 

Jess said she can drive me back to your house since we're both done at 4:30 today. And if you're going to keep insisting I sleep in your bed, then I'm going to keep insisting we share it. Besides, I always feel better when you're around.

"Man, what is with you?," Mickey asked as Bob wandered all the way to the other end of the lounge, running his fingers through his hair. "Almost nothing can distract you from D&D."

"It's Anna," he said quietly, his heart doing cartwheels in his chest.

"Yep, that'll do it then," Mickey muttered. "As soon as she gets divorced, you better propose."

Bob knew his friend was teasing him, but the thought alone left him staring out the window, imagining all of her books in his house and sharing a bed forever.

-----------------------------

Anna felt so good, it was incredible. She had a delicious sandwich for lunch, complete with ham, swiss cheese and some sort of fancy multi-grain bread with spicy mustard. And that wasn't even it, because Bob also made her a little container of fruit salad. He packed peanuts and ginger ale too. She wasn't starving for dinner at 5:00 like she usually was, but the closer Jessica got to Bob's house, the more excited Anna got.

"Do you know what time he usually gets home? Does Jake get home at the same time every day?"

"Hmm, well the weather's good, so I'm sure they didn't get out early," Jessica replied. "Bob usually stops in the locker room to shower and change out of his flight suit on days when they are in the air, so I would guess he would be home just before six?"

"Okay," Anna said, trying to calm her excitement. While her students took their quiz earlier, she had some time to ponder and also daydream. According to the conference for the National Neurological Physicians Association, Kevin would probably be in town through Tuesday. She knew well enough now to know that whatever she planned on doing next, she would have to share it with Bob. The very subject of her daydreams. The cozy man she snuggled up with all night. She wanted to cook him dinner, but she needed to get to his house early enough to surprise him.

When Jessica stopped to drop her off, Anna hugged her quickly before picking up her bag and heading up the walkway with the spare key in her hand. "Make good choices when it comes to Bob!" Jessica shouted as she rolled down the window. "And when it comes to Kevin, too! You know what? Just make good choices in general!"

Anna waved as she unlocked the front door and ducked inside, locking it behind her immediately just as Bob had instructed. She had less than an hour to get something started for dinner, so she tossed her bag aside and ran for the refrigerator. He had everything. More groceries than she'd seen in months. Fresh vegetables and fruit and different kinds of cheese. Everything.

She found a pack of ground beef, a jar of tomato sauce and some spaghetti. It wasn't going to be the fanciest thing in the world, but she had time to make it. While the water boiled, she ran upstairs to get her laundry and brought it down. The small laundry room was near the kitchen, so she was able to start browning the meat and check on it while she loaded the washing machine.

Anna was running back and forth when she saw Bob's truck pull up through the front window. "Shit," she groaned. He was a little earlier than she thought he would be. She stuffed the rest of her clothes inside and then turned to lean back against the washing machine while Bob walked inside.

"Anna?" he called out, and her heart skipped a beat. What if this kind of thing could be normal for her? She could save up enough money to buy her own car again, and she could come back to Bob's house after work and wait for him to get home. They could eat dinner together.

"I'm doing laundry!" she called out, and a few seconds later, he was in front of her, leaning into the room while he held both sides of the doorframe. He was wearing snug, black gym shorts, sneakers and a white undershirt, and he smelled clean like soap. His biceps flexed as he held on and smiled at her.

"Are you cooking dinner?" he asked, cheeks a little pink as he let go of the doorway and stepped inside. When she nodded, he said, "You didn't have to do that."

Before she could stop herself, her hand found the front of his shirt, and his eyes went wide. "I wanted to," she whispered, bunching the cotton fabric against her palm and tugging slightly. Bob closed the distance between them, bracing his hands on the washing machine on either side of her. He was big and warm, and she knew she needed to be the one to make the next move to get his body touching hers.

Anna let her hand trail up his abs to his chest and around the back of his neck, his cheeks deepening in color with each inch, but he didn't move away. Then she pushed up onto her toes and kissed him, her lips barely brushing his. The front of his body met hers, pressing her butt back against the washing machine. He felt strong and solid, and the slippery fabric of his shorts met her other hand as both of his went to her hips. This is what she wanted, and she would make herself better and better until Bob deemed her good enough for him. If that's what it took, she would figure out a way to do it.

When she pulled away slightly after a few seconds, Bob's lips followed hers until she was treated to a kiss that was a little needier. A little bit rough around the edges. She gasped his name as she inhaled the smell of his clean skin, and then she said, "Oh, shit. Dinner."

As soon as she ducked out of his grasp, Bob let her run from the room toward the kitchen. She grabbed the spatula and checked to make sure the ground beef hadn't burned, and he was right behind her. 

"I'm trying to make you spaghetti," she told him, reaching for the jar of sauce which she struggled to open. "But I guess I could use your help." She wanted his lips back on hers, but she didn't want to rush anything, so she simply handed the jar over to him when he held out his hand. With one quick twist of his wrist, the lid popped. "Show off," she muttered, earning a laugh as she dumped the sauce into a pan. "There should be enough for Suzanne, too. If you want to invite her over."

Bob just looked at her with a smile. "That's sweet. I'll take a plate over to her. I think I'd rather it just be the two of us here tonight."

"Okay," she told him. Being alone with Bob right now was definitely something she could get used to.

---------------------------------

It had been so long since anyone else cooked for Bob, so this was a welcome surprise. Anna was just moving her clothing to the dryer when the timer went off for the pasta. "I'll take care of it," he said, just as she hung up a particularly intriguing looking black bra in his laundry room to let it dry. It was made out of sheer lace, and he immediately wondered if he'd be able to see her freckles through the fabric.

One kiss. It was just one kiss, and he was already dizzy over her again. But it was more than just the kiss. It was also her hand pulling him closer and the way she whispered his name. Bob dragged himself from his thoughts and plated the food she had cooked. He set everything on the table along with ginger ales, and when he went to get her from the laundry room, he saw that the bra had some matching panties with it now.

"Food's ready," he said, voice coming out even deeper than usual. 

Anna followed him to the table and took the seat across from him. "You know, I'm sure it's fine if you want me out of your space. I highly doubt Kevin is going to come looking for me again, especially after you scared him off yesterday."

Bob gripped his fork a little tighter. "I can't make you stay here. But I want you to. I want to know you're safe."

Her brown eyes were soft as she picked up her own fork. "Okay," she said softly.

"Okay," he replied, already feeling better again. 

Dinner was pretty quiet, just a simple exchange of what happened to both of them that day at work. When he asked if she'd heard from Kevin at all, she assured him she had not. Then he asked if she knew how long she thought he would be in California.

"Yeah," she told him as she collected the dirty dishes from the table. She unlocked her phone and set it down in front of him. "He's giving a closing speech on Tuesday morning, so he's probably heading back to New Jersey later that day." Bob looked at the tab she had opened and saw Kevin's name listed under a few events for each day, including a three hour dinner reception on Sunday evening. He was a busy man. It seemed like he'd done well for himself with all of Anna's money, and Bob just fucking hated him. 

He set her phone aside. "I'll feel better when there's some more distance between you and him."

A cute little smile found her lips as she took the dishes away. Bob let her clean up, but he couldn't stop walking past the laundry room and looking inside. Even after she sat down to correct quizzes while he took some food over to Suzanne, the lacy set was still hanging in there. Even after Anna folded her laundry and started organizing it in neat piles on top of Bob's bedroom dresser, he knew those two pieces weren't with the rest.

He would have kept thinking about it, but then Anna yawned and turned to look at him. "I'm going to take a shower, and then I'm either sleeping in here with you again, or I'm sleeping in the other bedroom."

Bob studied her pretty face and her messy braid. "Should I get in bed and wait for you?" She nodded and bit her lip before scampering out of his room toward the bathroom. Then he had to change for bed while she showered, and he started getting hard as soon as he touched the elastic band of his boxer briefs. Anna and all of her things were all over his house, and she'd only been here for a little more than a day.

When he looked down at his flat abs and saw his cock bobbing to attention, he didn't think he was going to have time to jerk off. "No, no, no," he whispered. He tossed his gym shorts into his hamper and tried to walk it off, but it was no use. He felt like a teenager as he dove into bed as soon as he heard her turn the shower off. With his eyes squeezed closed, he lay there on his back under the covers, trying to think about something unsexy. Doing push ups, going to the dentist, buying bulk cat food at Costco for Suzanne. 

He was working up a mental image of Mickey throwing up in the Hard Deck parking lot when Anna breezed back into his bedroom with damp hair and a white tank top that left nothing to the imagination. Not that he couldn't vividly recall her naked body beneath his. And the sounds she made when he fucked her. Bob tossed his glasses onto his nightstand with a groan, hoping that if he couldn't see how cute she looked in those ugly flannel pants, maybe he would get soft again. 

But that didn't happen, and a few seconds later, Anna was slipping into bed with him just like last night. And then she linked her fingers with his again. When he turned off the lamp, she curled up next to him, and his fingers brushed against her bare skin. Her knee nudged along the top of his thigh; a few more inches and she was going to be able to feel him.

"Good night," she whispered into the darkness, and he could tell her face was near his. 

When he turned his head toward her and whispered, "Good night," she surprised him with a kiss. One that lingered. Her body was halfway on top of his, fingers combing lazily through his hair, and there was no way she couldn't feel how his cock was pressing shamelessly against her leg. When she didn't stop kissing him, he brought his hand up to rest on her back. She treated him to kiss after kiss, but she didn't take it any further. That was okay with him; this was more than enough.

Her lips brushed his one last time before she settled in with her cheek resting on his chest, and soon she was asleep while Bob held her, wondering if there was some way he could help her get her manuscript so she could finally leave Kevin behind.

----------------------------

As the week wore on, Anna spent her free moments thinking about Bob and also trying to figure out if there was a way to defeat Kevin. She wanted access to her writing, because she wanted to move on with her life. However, she was starting to come around to the idea of just letting Kevin have it so she could have Bob. She was still bleeding money to her lawyers, and even though she was staying at Bob's place, she still had to pay the astronomically high rent to her landlord, too.

If she had to still be married to Kevin, then there had to be some sort of benefit to it. On Friday at lunchtime, she was thinking about it while she sat between her friends and ate the beautiful sandwich that Bob packed for her. She could tell both of them wanted more information than she'd been sharing about her week at Bob's house. Jessica was practically vibrating every day on the drive to campus, but Anna knew she didn't want to pry.

But it was her other friend who said, "That's another nice looking sandwich you have today. It looks like Bob has been spoiling you."

"He sure has," Anna said with a dreamy sigh.

"Does that mean you're sleeping together?!" Jessica asked, her voice getting an octave higher at the end of the sentence.

Anna hummed and licked some mustard from her lip. "Define sleeping together."

"Fucking!" Jessica hissed. "Are you fucking?"

"No. But we are sleeping together," she replied with a smile.

"What does that mean?!"

"I think it means they are literally sleeping together," Advanced Calculus said as she dipped a carrot stick into the spicy hummus Bradley made. "Beer Boy said Bob looks like he won the lottery every morning, so I would assume that's why. And I would also assume that they are making out. Maybe a little under the clothing action going on?"

Anna was blushing furiously as her friend casually bit into the carrot stick, and Jessica nearly fell off the bench. "That's um.... well maybe just a tiny bit of the under the clothing part, but the rest is pretty accurate."

"Okay," Jessica said while slapping her own thigh. "You could have told me this when I drove you in every day this week! And I hope you know Bob loves you."

Anna smiled. She felt more confident than she had in years. She finally felt like she could let go of the one thing she thought she needed, because she found other things and other people that made a difference in her life. "That's convenient, because I'm in love with him, too. And I think... once I know Kevin is back in New Jersey and won't try to corner me again... I think I'm going to just finalize the divorce as is."

"Your manuscript!" both women gasped in unison.

Anna nodded. "I know, but I think I need to let go of it and just move on."

Neither of her friends mentioned it again after that, for which she was grateful. After she gave her afternoon lectures and started to pack up for the weekend, she got a text from Bob.

Bob Floyd: I'm on my way to pick you up. Pizza for dinner?

She wrote back and told him that was fine as long as he let her pay for it, and thirty minutes later, there was a soft knock on her office door. "It's Bob," he told her, and she threw the door open and pulled him inside by his khaki collar. 

He didn't hesitate or try to stop her as she kissed him with both hands in his hair before she whispered, "Hi, Bob."

He was all smiles after that, and his hand was at her lower back as she locked the door behind them and headed toward the elevator. He pulled her a little closer as she told him about her day and thanked him for making her lunch. 

"So I'll pay for the pizza. Did you order it already?"

"Yep," he replied as they held hands in the elevator. "It'll be ready in ten minutes."

But when they got there, she realized Bob had already put it on his credit card. "You're impossible," she told him as she shoved five bucks into the tip jar.

"I'm not going to apologize for buying us a pizza," he said casually, and it turned out to be one of the best pizzas Anna had ever had in her life.

They sat side by side on the couch with paper plates and napkins while they watched Pride & Prejudice. "New Jersey is supposed to have good pizza," she whispered in awe.

Bob just shrugged and said, "I think southern California might be superior."

"In every way," Anna whispered before she finished her crust. She loved it here. She loved her friends and her job. She loved Bob. She knew what she had to do now, and she knew it would be okay. "You know what else southern California has?"

"Enlighten me," he said as he wiped his hands with his napkin.

"A surplus of men in uniforms," she said, running her finger down his sleeve and along his name tag. "I didn't know how much I'd like these things." Bob was blushing as she kissed his cheek. "But I liked you way before I knew you were in the Navy." 

She was thinking of him as Sky Writing as he turned and kissed her, and once again, they ended the evening in his bed. And this time, there was a lot more touching under their clothing.

-------------------------------

Bob looked at Anna as she moaned in delight while she ate the soup he made for dinner on Saturday. It was pouring rain, and he didn't feel like going out to play Dungeons & Dragons. He wanted to stay inside where it was warm. Where Anna would end up in his arms after they cleaned up the kitchen.

"What time do you have to leave?" she asked him, and he thought he saw a little flash of sadness on her face. 

"In about a half an hour." He took the chance and added, "I don't have to go. I could stay here."

"No! Mickey and Jess will be devastated! She told me so much about her Barbarian on the drive to work yesterday, she'll never get over it if you skip tonight. Besides, I have something I can do to keep myself busy."

"Alright," Bob agreed. "But I probably won't be home before eleven, so you don't have to wait up."

He helped wash the dishes and went to search for the umbrella he hardly ever had to take out with him. He packed up his dice and character sheet and put his shoes on. When he found Anna again, she was curled up on the couch with one of his books. 

"You love poetry," he told her as he ran his thumb along the back of her hand. 

"I love some poetry," she whispered. "I love your poetry."

He wanted her to say she loved him. He thought she did. Everything was moving along now, but Kevin was still in California, and Bob wasn't sure exactly how to go about all of the details with Anna. So he simply said, "I'll be back in a little bit. Keep all the doors locked? Call me if you need me?"

"I will."

He took one last look at her freckles and her big, brown eyes, and then he ventured out into the wet night. He offered to pick Jessica up since she'd been driving Anna around all week, but she said she'd drive herself there. He was surprised she didn't want to pump him for all of the information related to him and Anna, but perhaps Anna had already told her? The idea of that made him a little warm. He wondered what she might have said. Obviously they had already had sex last month, but this time it felt exactly right when they touched and kissed each other.

God, Bob really hated Kevin. The bruises on Anna's arm were finally fading to yellow. And she didn't seem as worried now. It was obvious that she was comfortable in his house, and he wanted her there. He didn't know how he was going to make it through several hours of this campaign tonight when she was all snuggled up on his couch.

When he arrived and got ready to play, he thought maybe she had moved to his bed by now. He could picture her in those ugly pants, her nipples peaked against her cotton tank top. Her red hair impossibly dark. 

"I said you need to roll for initiative."

Bob looked up and quickly picked up his twenty sided die. He was distracted and rolling like shit tonight, and he kept relying on everyone else to bail him out of each round of fighting. He could barely even pay attention to the story, and that was usually his favorite part. Jessica had to keep poking him in the side when he was supposed to take his turn.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "I'm thinking about Anna. I can't stop thinking about her," he muttered. "She's... probably already in bed, and being there with her as we fall asleep together is kind of my new favorite thing."

Jessica cleared her throat and loudly announced. "My stomach hurts. So bad. Can we stop a little early tonight?" 

She was literally the worst liar in existence. She was even worse than Bob. He was trying not to laugh as everyone nodded sympathetically at her as they started to pack up. "Thanks," he murmured, and she just winked at him as she adjusted her glasses.

"No problem. Go home and snuggle."

He drove carefully back home in the rain until he was passing through the deserted streets of his neighborhood. He parked right in front of Suzanne's car like he always did, and he killed the engine. Maybe he should just tell Anna how he felt, although he was sure she already knew. He didn't exactly need to hear the words back, but he wanted them to be out there. He didn't even need a title on whatever their relationship was, but he didn't want it to be nothing either.

Quickly, he dashed through the rain, shooed Sylvester inside his neighbor's front door before closing it, and then he unlocked his own door. The living room was dark unlike earlier, and at first he didn't hear anything.

"Anna?" he called out softly as the hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. He froze when he realized he heard a voice coming from upstairs. Halfway up the steps, he realized it was her, and she sounded distraught. "Anna," he gasped, taking the steps two at a time until he was standing on the top landing.

She was definitely in his bedroom, and he almost tripped as he lunged for the door, pushing it open just in time to hear her moan his name.

Bob's jaw dropped open at the sight before him. Anna was spread out on the middle of his bed, red hair all over the place, and she was wearing nothing but that black bra and panty set he hadn't been able to stop thinking about. Her eyes were squeezed shut tight, hand tucked in the front of her underwear as she stroked her clit and turned her face until it was buried in his pillow. He watched her inhale deeply as his hand rested on his hard cock which was pressing against the fly of his jeans.

"Fuck," she grunted after thrashing around a little bit in his bed. She still hadn't seen him yet, but his gaze was fixed firmly on her body. "Fuck me, Bob," she moaned, and he stumbled forward. "Oh, god. I want you!"

Her back arched slightly off the bed as he took another step closer, unzipping his pants. He no longer had to wonder if he'd be able to see her freckles through the sheer fabric. He definitely could, which made the little black set even sexier, but he also wanted her naked. He wanted to be inside her. He watched as she came on her own fingers. 

"Anna," he groaned as his hand met his length, and her eyes snapped open as she yanked her hand back out of her panties.

"Oh my god!" she practically shrieked, face flushing pink. "Bob! You're back early!"

He nodded and watched her wide eyes as she realized he was stroking himself. "I wanted to come back home as soon as I left. I wanted to be with you. And now I want to fuck you."

"Oh," she sighed, getting up so she was kneeling in the middle of his bed, licking her lips like his most depraved fantasy. Her hair was a mess, and her nipples were hard peaks as she nodded and came crawling toward him. Her breath ghosted along the tip of his cock as it hung out of his jeans. She looked up at his face, licked at his precum and said, "That's exactly what I want you to do."

------------------------------

Get. It. Bobby. Leave no doubt in her mind that you love her, but get it, baby. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 16

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[daipeanutsaiban]

some family headcanons (in order: van zieks, baskerville, asogi, holmes) not everyone has names yet 🫣💦

i wrote more details under the cut ⬇️ this info can also be viewed under the "tgaa oc guide" in my carrd (linked in my profile).

Holmes

Mycroft: he’s 7 years older than his brother in the ACD canon, but I wanted him to be around the same age as Klint and Lady Baskerville. He and Sherlock are 7 and 15 respectively here. I wanted his hair to be dark and over his eyes so it’d match his cynical attitude that things are about to go bad at any time. Also, it’s a nice contrast to Sherlock’s lightly toasted color, so you could say he got “burnt”. Mycroft usually wears gloves, both because he dislikes touching things directly and because he has a tendency to be dishonest (a classic character design trope - though it’s probably less obvious in a game where almost every character of the upper social classes will wear gloves due to the setting). Mycroft predominantly wears green (next to yellow on the color wheel). Despite his avoidant and anxious behaviours, he has a sharp tongue, and rarely addresses people by their proper title. For someone who wants to avoid trouble, he doesn’t try really hard to fit in due to being a contrarian in that aspect... he’s a genius, but he’s an idiot too (lol).

Sherlock: The most important thing is that he’s recognizable without being dressed identically to his adult self, because he hasn’t come into his own yet (and it would just make no sense). He’s wearing rather nice clothes since the Holmes family belongs to the gentry class, but my friend suggested that his clothes would be dirty often since he’s crawling around trying to “solve cases” all the time, and I really love that idea. His mother is probably despairing about it. Sherlock takes himself very seriously at this age, but of course he says ridiculous things all the time.

Father (unnamed): I wanted the brothers to have a point of reference or inspiration for their creativity with inventions and general resourcefulness, so he’s a toymaker who specializes in automata. Mycroft learned from him for some time until he eventually surpassed him due to his inherent genius, but Sherlock lost interest quickly despite also showing talent. Their father is a friendly man whose work usually keeps busy, and he’s on good terms with his wife. I’m undecided on whether the toy shop should be connected to their house or not.

Mother (unnamed): I really wanted her to look like her youngest son without being an exact replica of him, with a simple and uncomplicated design. She’s a housewife with no other occupation officially, but she’s adept at sewing and often takes on requests from friends and neighbours. She also makes clothes for her husband’s creations, as well as for her children. Will dress up Mycroft and Sherlock in dresses on occasion, sometimes to get back at them for causing trouble and sometimes just to try out designs. Sherlock doesn’t mind it, and neither does Mycroft though he’s annoyed at the “punishment” since it’s usually his brother who ropes him into trouble. Their mother is constantly fatigued by their antics, so I feel a little bad for her (their father is more easygoing, so he doesn’t get as stressed out by their sons). Her relationship with her oldest son was complicated for some time due to his tendency to withdraw from the world, but her youngest helped her understand that his brother does love her in his own ways.

Van Zieks

I tried my best to incorporate angel motifs in their design to reflect Barok’s “fallen angel” motif later in life, hence why his and Klint’s father has white hair for example. The feather lace on their mother’s sleeves was a last minute addition; I think I’ll revisit their designs again soon. Klint wears his hair the same as he does as an adult to keep him recognizable, but I think it’d be funny if when he was very young it was parted on the side and he hated it or something.

Claes: Their father’s name. It’s Dutch and pronounced “Klaus”, but I keep pronouncing it wrong (a little bit on purpose because I like the sound of it spelled out). He has a constant poker face, but he’s actually the most affectionate parent in this entire lineup..! He’s meant to be smiling in the drawing, but a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell. I love characters whose personality subverts our expectations we’d usually have based on their appearance, so he looks and acts very seriously but would rather spend time at home with his family and hates going to work (lol). Also fond of cute, small, and typically “feminine” things, but he keeps that part of him a secret since it’d be frowned upon for a man in this era, especially within the upper class which is all about appearance (his wife is aware of it, though). Maybe that’s why he dotes on his kids so much? He’s very corny as well and has plenty of nicknames for his wife and children, which Klint hated at this age. I also wanted Claes to be the same height as Stronghart, with an imposing build and expression, so that the next authority figure in the brothers’ lives following his death would “fill” the gap he left. But that didn’t end so well, did it...

Evana: Their mother’s name. Similarly to Claes, her personality is meant to subvert her elegant appearance. She’s a complete airhead and once got lost in her own house. Evana is nonetheless stricter than her husband towards her children and puts a lot of emphasis on what is or isn’t proper. She’s in tune with trends and gossip as is expected of a lady in her position, and might come across as superficial to some, but she is very loving. When young Lady Baskerville would visit, she and her future mother-in-law would get along tremendously well (to Klint’s annoyance as he also wanted to spend time with his fiancee but couldn’t relate to most of their conversations). Evana had the most religious faith among the van Zieks, and would encourage virtue, integrity, and nobility of character above all else in her children.

Barok and Klint: Two well-behaved, beloved children. Barok is of course the little darling after all; I think Klint was probably the more rebellious one but became very serious after their parents’ death with all the responsibilities now on his shoulders. That was probably a very lonely period for Barok, until his brother cheered up again.

Baskerville

Primrose (Lady Baskerville): In flower language, her name means “I can’t live without you”. I didn't know this at the time I named her, but it fits the story very well, so thank you to my friend who taught me this! Primrose’s outlook is very unconventional for the era and especially at her young age, but she’s grown disillusioned with her lot in life as well as men following her mother’s death. I wanted her to be the only one in the family to be a redhead to reflect how she’s not fitting the mould with her assertive and brash personality, and how she feels "out of place". Her father dresses her in very impractical, often white dresses to assert his control over her as a form of “love”; to thwart her tendency to sneak out of the house without permission and participate in unladylike activities.

Her and Klint become codependent on each other following his own parents’ passing and promise to marry each other even though Lord Baskerville is set on finding his daughter a suitor with a more stable future.

The woman is her stepmother, and the others are her father and her half-brother. Since I’m working on a project involving all of them, I don’t want to reveal too much about them yet. All I can say is that it’s not a happy home, and no one in particularly close to each other (except the twins, maybe)...

Asogi

Genshin: I imagined he used to be short and got his growth spurt late (shown at around 12 years old here). Genshin looks a lot like Kazuma due to his eyes and nose, but thankfully he has a distinctive hairstyle already. I'd like to think he grows out his hair at around fifteen. The scarf's pattern is meant to evoke snake scales! Sorry for how lazily I drew Karuma here, haha. As for his personality, he has a poker face but I like to think he can be quite mischievous, though not towards his immediate family as the repercussions would be non-negligible. His brother in law, Hiroki, however, is the perfect person to prank since he's both kind and naive. I also imagine it's tradition for every (male) Asogi to dedicate their life to training, though he’d have a bamboo sword instead of Karuma at this age, probably... I wonder how Genshin discovered the hilt trick? If he was a kid or teenager, maybe he hid snacks inside (lol).

Miwa: Genshin’s older sister. She wears men’s clothes most of the time. Being their father’s legitimate child, she was going to inherit the clan despite being a woman until Genshin showed up. With Genshin having the “luck” to resemble his father, as well as being male, their father decided to make him the heir instead. Miwa resents Genshin for taking this chance from her, despite knowing deep down that he is not personally at fault. Still, she is outwardly bitter and dismissive of him, and spites his efforts to become closer to his sister. Miwa is both vain and arrogant while also following a rigid moral code. She distrusts men, most likely due to her father’s treatment, but she also respects her father greatly as a warrior. Miwa displays surprising gentleness towards children and women, namely Genshin’s girlfriend and later wife Yukari. Her abrasive personality mellows out when she becomes a mother herself, but she was unable to repair her relationship with her brother before his death. Since that’s very sad, in modern AUs I like to depict them on better terms.

Hiroki: Miwa’s husband through arranged marriage. Hails from a family of performers; his specialty is traditional dance but he’s skilled in rakugo as well. I wanted a character with a sensitive side, who is in touch with his emotions, to contrast the serious and tense atmosphere of the Asogi clan. Thanks to that side of him, Hiroki gets along well with Yukari who has a similar easygoing and “refreshing” personality. However, Hiroki’s sensitivity creates problems since Miwa is confused by a man exhibiting such behaviours (he’s the type to be moved by beautiful scenery and cry over small animals). Hiroki believes everyone can do good and that most people act from goodness, but for this reason he’s easily tricked- namely by Genshin. Despite amusing himself at his expense (since Genshin is quite clever), Genshin enjoys Hiroki’s company since he’s a very mellow person and doesn’t bring up dreadful topics like inheritance and power and such. Hiroki is surprisingly well-built under his clothes, and his weapon of choice is a naginata. I guess Syoma wanted his son-in-law to be strong..?

Syoma: The central figure in the Asogi household. Still alive during the events of TGAA. A very serious man who accords a lot of importance to honor and tradition to the point it’s stifling. Distant from his children, though Miwa claims Genshin is the favorite. The kind of father to make his children compete to “make them grow”, even though one of them is almost an adult and the other is barely a teenager. Although Genshin was conceived after his late wife’s passing, Syoma sees Genshin as a reminder of his dishonourable actions (mainly due to Genshin’s mother being a prostitute), and thus avoids him despite placing the onus of inheritance upon him. All of that results in a house Genshin doesn’t want to stay in- and contributes to his reasons to go study abroad. In his own twisted way, Syoma loves his children, but he was never meant to be a father, or at least does not know how to parent without a wife’s help (tradition and patriarchy is very much a theme for the whole clan lol). I honestly struggle to write him because the things he says can be very hurtful, especially towards his daughter-in-law. His character is a lot more comedic/nicer in modern AU (think pseudo yakuza with mother hen personality), but so is everyone’s. (it’s very sitcom-like, haha)

Thanks for reading if you made it this far!! This post could be even longer but I decided to spare everyone💗 have a bonus papazieks and children doodle for your time👼💗

[punksyeet]

ᰔᩚ Double Trouble ᰔᩚ

Plot: Gianna (OC), a backstage interviewer for WWE, has had a ginormous crush on The Usos for the longest time. After one particular interview, they finally pull her aside.

Warning: Mature language & smut (threesome)!

The camera man points to me, cueing me to begin my first interview of the night.

"Jimmy and Jey," I begin, turning to face The Usos, who just retained their SmackDown Tag Team Championships. "It was just five days ago when you found out you'd be defending your SmackDown Tag Team titles here at WrestleMania. And you defended and retained! How does that feel?"

I hold the microphone up to Jimmy, who's looking as gorgeous as ever in his white sleeveless hoodie and matching snapback hat.

I do my very best to keep my cool and remain professional on the outside, but my insides are practically melting at the sight of his gorgeous eyes making direct contact with mine as he speaks.

And soon enough, Jey chimes into the conversation, not helping my sex drive one bit.

I've been a backstage interviewer here in WWE for a little over 3 years now and, while there's lots of different tag teams, The Usos are easily the best looking.

From their dreamy smiles, to their damp curly hair, to their muscular tattoo-covered arms, to their freshly trimmed beards. I just can't get enough.

"Aaand cut! Great job guys!" the cameraman says, cueing that the interview is over.

As I'm about to follow him down the hallway, the twins grab my attention.

"Aye Gianna, wait up!" I hear Jimmy call, and I turn, sliding my hands into my jean back pockets.

"Y-Yeah?" I ask, just standing there super awkwardly.

They both let out a breathless chuckle before sharing a look and walking closer to me.

"Don't act all shy now girl," Jey coos, reaching out and stroking my arm. "We see the way you look at us every week."

A quick sense of bravery comes over me as I raise an eyebrow and fold my arms. "Is that so? And what kind of look might that be?"

Jimmy smirks, takes another step closer, and leans down to whisper in my ear. "Like you want us to take turns fucking you senseless."

My jaw slightly drops as Jey nods in agreement.

"For real Uce," he exclaims, throwing an arm over his twin's shoulder. "And we'd be more than happy to give yo lil fine ass what you want."

Me? Fine? Sir, may I offer you a mirror?

"Would you now?" I reply, tilting my head to the side and scanning each of their bodies up and down.

"Hell yeah," Jimmy confirms, running his fingers through his hair and adjusting his hat to backwards.

I pucker my lips to the side and raise an eyebrow yet again. "Hard Rock Hotel. Room 13A. 9:00 tonight. And y'all better make it worth my while."

Before they can respond, I turn and walk away, making sure to sway my ass side to side to tease and hold them over.

As I walk further and further away, I hear them dap each other up from behind me, causing me to smirk and roll my eyes.

What have I done?

—————————————————————————————————

I tap my phone so that it reveals the time: 8:56pm.

Only 4 minutes left.

I quickly run into the bathroom to fix my hair and adjust my black lace lingerie set before throwing my silk robe over it.

About 3 minutes later, I hear faint knocks on my door.

I check the time and, sure enough, it's 9pm on the dot.

I quickly adjust my hair once more and open the door, practically drooling at the sight I'm brought with.

Both twins are dressed in matching black muscle tops, black sweatpants to match, panda dunks, and their respective jewelry.

Their hair, however, is different: Jimmy's in those gorgeous braids that I adore and Jey's in his classic but super sexy mullet.

"Nine on the dot? Wow you two wasted no time, huh?" I tease, folding my arms and leaning against the door.

Jimmy bites his lip while Jey smirks.

"The Usos keep no one waiting," Jey replies. "Especially not a fine ass lady like yourself.

Jimmy nods, leaning an elbow on his brother's shoulder.

"What he said," he agrees, nodding towards Jey and scanning my body once more.

I shake my head smirking and step to the side so that they can come in.

Once they do, I shut the door behind us.

"Before this night starts," I begin, gaining both of their attention as they turn around to face me in sync. "Y'all should know I've never been with two guys at the same time before."

Jimmy raises an eyebrow while smirking and Jey rubs his hands together while licking his lips.

"Even better," Jey coos sexily, walking up to me and wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me close. "We work best with beginners."

He cups my face and places his soft lips on mine, to which I respond immediately.

Our lips and, soon tongues, move in sync as his hands travel down my sides.

I feel Jimmy walk up behind me and feather light kisses against my neck and start massaging my front.

I moan into Jey's mouth as Jimmy soon adds tongue, sucking and nibbling at my sweet spot just below my ear.

As Jey and I pull apart, I tug at his bottom lip ever so gently.

"Damn girl," he coos, licking his lips sexily. "Uce you gotta come kiss her. Some soft ass lips for real."

I smirk and roll my eyes as Jey slaps my ass and walks over to the bed, allowing Jimmy to take his turn with me.

We share a way more passionate and slower kiss, his dreamy lips and thick tongue ever so gently caressing mine.

Definitely more husband material than his brother.

"Get this shit off for us baby," he demands, gently tugging at the tie that's keeping my carefully chosen undergarments hidden.

I undo the knot and let the sleeves slowly peel from my skin, allowing the robe to fall to the floor.

Both twins watch in awe, practically drooling at the sight of my fully nude body barely being hidden by the sheer black lace.

"Now get these off for me," I coo, looking up at them and gently tugging at the bottom of their shirts.

In unison, they remove their shirts and reveal their muscular tattooed chests, allowing their chains to glisten under the dim hotel room lights.

"Jesus Christ," I exclaim, sliding one hand up each of their bodies. "No wonder you guys are a fan favorite at work. You're both so fucking hot."

"Us?" Jey replies, walking up behind me and sliding his hands up and down my lower back. "Lil mama look atchu. Look at this ass."

"And these tits," Jimmy adds on, caressing my breasts through my sheer black bra. "I can't wait to have these in my mouth."

I bite my lip, gently blushing.

Don't let them see you swooning.

Remember that your teasing is what brought you all here.

"Why wait any longer then?" I tease, taking both of their hands and walking towards the bed.

** smut warning! **

I instruct them both to sit, and they respond immediately.

I give them both a show, removing my bra and lightly shaking my ass while removing my panties.

"Cmere baby," Jey says, laying back on my pillow and waving me over. "I'm dying to taste that pussy."

I climb onto the bed, kissing my way up his body and turn around, hovering over his face.

He grabs ahold of my thighs and pulls me down gently, immediately darting out his tongue to taste me.

"Oh my god," I hear him mumble against my clit, causing me to giggle and run my fingers though his hair.

"Tastes good baby?" I ask, slowly moving my hips, to which he responds by gripping my thighs harder.

A muffled groan comes from between my legs. "Sooo fucking good mama."

I chuckle again and crook my pointer finger to Jimmy, who immediately responds and walks over.

"Hi sexy girl," he coos and cups my face.

"Hi love," I reply, sliding my hands up his chest and connecting our lips.

He immediately kisses me back, massaging my breasts in the process.

I tug on his lip gently as we pull away. "Get what you want, Jim."

He bites his lip and caresses my nipples before leaning down and placing one of them in his mouth, flicking and twirling his tongue around the bud beforehand.

"Mmm fuck," I moan uncontrollably, gently bouncing up and down and grinding my hips.

"Stop tryna run from me mama," Jey demands, pulling my hips down once more.

"Y-yes daddy," I reply, and continue uncontrollably moving my hips against his face.

Once Jimmy finishes getting a taste, we share another kiss.

"Those tits are something dangerous mama," he coos against my lips. "So fucking soft and big."

I giggle in the kiss and wrap my arm around his neck. "Thank you love."

Once we pull away, I push him down by his chest gently and lay him down on the other side of the bed.

"You wanna suck this dick ma?" Jimmy asks, stroking my face.

As I'm about to respond, Jey's tongue hits my g-spot. "Ye-Mmm fuck! J-Jey right there! Please!”

His tongue moves faster and so does my tongue, until I feel a huge pit in my stomach.

"Fu-fuck I'm gonna cu-" and before I can finish my sentence, I release in his mouth.

He cleans me all up before tapping my thigh, signaling me to sit up so he can too.

"You gotta taste her uce," he coos, before kissing my clit one last time. "Tastes as good as she looks."

I blush and turn back to Jimmy.

"Want me to fuck you while you suckin twin’s dick, ma?" Jey asks, as I'm pulling down Jimmy's pants and boxers.

"Mhmmm," I reply, while kissing and licking his perfectly pink tip.

"Fuck," Jimmy moans under his breath, immediately throwing his head back and stroking my hair.

As I get used to his size and begin deepthroating him, Jey inserts his dick into me.

I moan and throw my head back, before spitting in my hand and stroking Jimmy's huge cock.

"Feels good mama?" Jey asks, stroking circles into my back dimples.

I nod, taking Jimmy's dick into my mouth again.

As he continues to moan, I lean down and place his dick between my tits.

"Mmm daddy you're so big," I coo between moans, sliding up and down.

"Shit," the twins moan in unison, causing me to giggle.

A couple of moments later, I feel Jimmy tense up and see him gripping the sheets.

"F-fuck baby," he moans, arching his thighs. "You're gonna make daddy cum all over those sexy tits of yours."

I bite my lip, sticking my tongue out and allowing my saliva to drip onto his tip. "Cum for me daddy. Let go for your babygirl."

And that he does. All over my chest.

And soon enough, Jey and I do as well.

** smut over! **

"You're so fuckin amazing Gi," Jimmy coos once I'm all cleaned up, stroking my face.

"Forreal," Jey agrees, cleaning himself with a damp rag.

I give them a soft smile, blushing lightly. "So are you guys. You're everything that I've imagined and more."

Eventually, they're all dressed and ready to leave.

"So," Jimmy begins, breaking the comfortable silence. "Same time tomorrow?"

We all share a laugh and I shrug. "I'm down if you guys are."

"Bet," he replies between laughs and kisses my cheek, then wraps me into a hug. 

I smile and hug back, resting my head on his chest.

Once we pull away, Jey comes over.

"We'll see you soon baby," he coos, cupping my face. 

I nod, smiling and looking him in the eyes.

We share a lengthy kiss then a hug.

"This was fun," I say, opening the door for them. "Thank you guys for taking care of me."

"We gotchu," Jimmy says, stroking my cheek and smiling before walking towards the elevator and pressing the button.

"Holla if you need us, okay?" Jey adds on, rubbing my lower back.

I nod, giving him a soft smile. "I will."

They smile before stepping into the elevator, and we all wave until it closes.

I close the door behind me and press my back against it, looking up and biting my lip. 

What a night.

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[ohbueckers]

WHAT’S MY NAME? i heard you good with them soft lips. yeah, you know word of mouth. the square root of 69 is 8 something, right? ‘cause i been tryna’ work it out.

THIS IS PART ONE! part two here. pairing, paige bueckers x tutor!oc. notes, rihanna and drake made this fire ass song 14 years ago and i’m about to put it to good use ok… this also isn’t proofread i’ll probably go over it later? warnings, just loads of tension, sexual innuendos, no smut yet.

“kk, get ooooout!”

“no! you don’t get to steal my tutor and then kick me out the dorm,” kk argued, not budging from her spot on paige’s bed. laid on her tummy with her feet propped up in the air, it didn’t seem like she had any intentions of moving. because she didn’t.

paige rolled her eyes sassily, ponytail swinging behind her head as she bit down on her lip, thinking of an easy way to get kk out so she could possibly get some play. you know, put those rizz hands to good use. let’s just say she already contemplated picking the 5’9 girl up and tossing her out.

paige let out a dramatic sigh, shifting her weight to one hip as she crossed her arms. “why you always gotta be so difficult, bro?”

kk smirked from her spot, still kicking her feet lazily in the air. “because you make it too easy. come on, p, what’s the big deal? it’s not like you’re actually gonna study. you don’t even need it.”

paige shot her a glare, only angrier because it was true. her grades were stellar, and her gpa was looking better than most of the team’s. but that didn’t mean she couldn’t use some… extra help. especially when the tutor in question was ridiculously pretty.

half-tempted to retaliate with a pillow, paige squints at her before there was a knock at the door. her eyes widened. she’d been hoping for at least another few minutes to strategize. without thinking, she darted for the door, fully aware that kk was hot on her heels.

they both reached for the handle at the same time, their hands colliding.

“move!” paige hissed, her voice laced with all the attitude as she tried to nudge kk out of the way with her elbow.

“no, you move! i’m doing you a favor,” kk retorted, playfully leaning against the door so she couldn’t open it.

the blonde felt her patience wearing thin. “kk i swea—”

before she could finish, kk swung the door open, and they were both greeted by a pair of deep brown eyes that made paige’s thoughts momentarily short-circuit. standing in front of them was a girl with caramel skin, curly hair pulled into a loose ponytail, and a confident smile that made her forget all the words she’d been ready to throw at kk.

liana, a junior here at uconn, stood there holding a notebook, a tote bag of any other needs slung over her shoulder. she was completely unfazed by their little showdown, deciding it was probably normal for them.

“hey, liana,” kk greeted her with a warm smile, all casual and cool, like this wasn’t the most awkward situation ever.

paige, on the other hand, was still struggling to get her brain back online, looking a bit flabbergasted before finally clearing her throat. “uh, hi, liana.“

liana smiled, her gaze finally landing on the blonde. somehow, she wasn’t able to pick up on her nervousness. paige never got nervous. well, maybe a few times… and now. “nice to meet you. kk mentioned you needed help in algebra, right?”

“right.”

the two girls stepped aside, inviting liana in. she immediately got busy situating her things on the table by the door, opening her bag and taking out a laptop, some books, and a few different writing utensils. as she arranged everything with methodical precision, paige and kk stood behind her, watching her work.

“you gonna be a good girl?” kk teased, her voice sarcastic with a slight whine.

before blondie could respond with words, she hit kk in the stomach, earning a dramatic groan. she shot her a glare before heading to her seat, watching as her teammate made her way to the back.

liana settled into her spot next to paige, opening her laptop and flipping through her notes. the blonde leaned back in her chair, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible, but her eyes kept drifting back to the girl in front of her. there was no way she missed her on campus for two years, and kk of all people was the first to find her.

paige’s attention adverted to the books, eyebrows furrowing a bit at the amount of stuff she’d brought over. “you only tutor algebra?”

liana immediately shook her head, finally settling on a notes page and flipping it open. “no, i basically do any class i’ve taken. i’m good at it, and it makes me extra money, so..”

paige nodded slowly, still processing. “makes sense. that’s a lot of stuff, though. you planning to teach me everything in one night?”

liana chuckled softly, the sound light and easy. “no, just prepared for whatever you might throw at me. better to have too much than not enough.” their eyes locked, faces a bit too close to be considered normal. “right?”

“right,” paige echoed, her voice almost a whisper as she quickly pulled back, clearing her throat and trying to regain some refocus. she figured she’d be doing a lot of that tonight.

they started working through the material, and almost an hour had passed at this point. paige had yawned about three times, apologizing after every single one of them. as liana started explaining the next problem, paige found herself staring at her instead of the notes. the way her lips moved when she spoke, the moles on her face that formed a delicate pattern, like constellations on her skin. she couldn’t help but wonder how she hadn’t noticed them earlier—how she hadn’t noticed any of this earlier. the way she absentmindedly picked at the eraser of her pencil, her fingers twisting and tugging at it as she explained a concept. the small silver bracelet she wore on her wrist, catching the light every time she moved her hand.

paige stretched casually in her chair at one point, shifting slightly to get a better view of liana’s profile. her thighs, in particular were yelling at her, fully exposed and on display. her eyes trailed up, and that’s when she noticed it—a small tattoo behind her ear, half-hidden by her curls. it was too intricate and small to make out completely, and paige huffed as she settled her chair, giving up.

as they worked through the material, paige found herself growing increasingly distracted. she leaned in, pretending to scrutinize her notes with more interest than she actually had.

“is this good? i been tryna’ work it out.” she pointed to a particularly tricky problem on the page, her gaze lingering a little too long on liana’s face.

the curly-haired girl glanced at the problem, then back at paige, her brow slightly raised. “looks like you missed a step here. let me explain.”

paige nodded eagerly, leaning even closer to get a better view. she was trying hard not to focus on how close they were, or how she could literally smell the perfume on her neck. it was almost too easy to get lost in the moment, with every word liana said seeming to carry a double meaning. or maybe she was just entirely too fascinated by this girl, and was overthinking everything.

by the time the session came to an end and the two exchanged some last words about when they’d be meeting again, liana had packed up her things and was standing by the door, looking ready to head out. paige, who seemingly had gotten a good amount of what she wanted got up to follow, straightening her shirt out in the process.

as liana reached for the door handle, she paused and spun around, a slightly embarrassed smile on her face. “sorry, this is kinda embarrassing, but… you didn’t tell me your name.”

paige’s eyes widened in surprise. “you don’t know my name?”

liana licked her lips. “well, no.”

paige shook her head, apologizing with a sheepish smile on her face. “my bad, i’m just not used to hearing that. i’m paige.”

liana nodded, her lips curving into a soft giggle. “i’ve definitely seen you around, i’m just not really wrapped up in the whole sports thing here.”

paige took a step closer, her hands casually tucked into the pockets of her sweatpants. “that’s alright. looks like we gotta get you tickets to my next game then.” she was leaned up against the door at this point, the two of them face to face and paige looking as seducing as ever.

liana’s gaze lingered on the blonde, squinting as if she were trying to figure her out. she tilted her head slightly, her playful smile widening. “that an invite?”

“if you want it to be. let me put in my number so you’n gotta get to me through thing two in the back.” paige pointed down the hallway, referring to kk. the comment made liana laugh, reaching into her back pocket to hand the blonde her phone.

paige quickly entered her details, her thumbs typing away as she saved her own contact. giving it back, their fingers brushed lightly in the process. “perfect. i got you with the game details.”

liana gave her a warm smile. “looking forward to it.”

with one last flirtatious glance, liana headed out the door, and paige watched her go, a satisfied smile playing on her lips at the sight of her back… her ass.

just then, kk rounded the corner, her phone held up as she laughed into the screen. paige bit down on her lip, shutting the door as she turned to face the newfound noise. “i can’t believe you just rizzed up our tutor, dude!” she said, her voice carrying down the hallway. aubrey and ice’s laughter echoed through the speaker, their voices mingling with kk’s as they all seemed to have heard the interaction.

“c’mon, i’m really like that!” paige patted her chest aggressively, jumping around like a kid. and she believed it, too. she was gonna make liana bale remember her name.

[anjee0]

A Melody from the Heart

Chapter 1 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Eminem x Female!reader (Feel free to put in your own oc insert as well if you wish)

Description - Y/n is struggling artist who decides to perform at an event hosted by MTV where a bunch of celebrities will be watching in person. Marshall is invited and is immediately captured by Y/n's beautiful voice. Now all he wants is for her to be on his next song.

Warnings - Throughout the series there will be: Smut, Mild swearing (More warnings to be added in the future)

Y/n quickly finished applying her mascara to her eyelashes as she got ready for work. Before she left, she quickly checked her Spotify profile to check if any of her songs had increased in streams.

One song had.

By two streams.

It had bumped up from 502 to 504. She sighed, accepting two streams was better than nothing.

Y/n's dream since she was probably about 4 or 5 was to be a singer. She always imagined singing in front of a large crowd at a concert on a giant stage with vibrant colourful lights and those fancy smoke machines. She didn't grow up in a healthy household, her father was a deadbeat and her mother was always getting high on the couch. She dropped out of high school at 17 and ran away. She was able to make a decent living, always hopping from one job to another as her music career on the side continued to struggle.

She swiftly walked down the plain concrete pavement, trying to ignore the gross smell of garbage everywhere that lingered throughout all of New York. Whilst walking, the corner of her caught a line of posters taped on to a fence. 

The posters all appeared to be for some sort of event called the: ‘The Rhythm of New York’. The posters were dark blue and on it read some information.

You've probably heard of our event: ‘The Rhythm of New York’ plastered all over social media. We are looking for 10 lucky musicians of all musical talent to come and perform. You will receive a nifty cash prize of $5,000 for performing and also be featured on live TV. Book an audition by calling the number at the bottom of the poster, we will tell you further details from there.

There was a number at the bottom like the description said in a simple white font. Y/n quickly took a picture of the poster before realising that she'd be late if she didn't get moving.

She eventually reached the diner and right on time too. She was immediately greeted by her friend, Maya, who was standing behind the counter with a beautiful smile on her face.

“Morning Y/n.” Maya said.

“Morning Maya.” Y/n responded, giving her friend a smile. She went to the back and got her apron on and clocked in. 

Y/n immediately started on her regular duty of cleaning down the tables.

“Hey, have you heard of this thing called ‘The Rhythm of New York?” Y/n asked.

Maya gasped a little too dramatically. “Heck yes! It's gonna be the best event of this year!”

“What, are you going?”

Maya looked at her friend in a confused manner and started laughing hysterically.

“What's so funny?” Y/n asked, her voice laced with confusion.

“Girl, have you not been on social media recently?”

Y/n shook her head slowly. “No, I've been kinda busy with my music and then I've been taking extra shifts too.”

“Okay, fair enough. Come here.”

Y/n walked over to Maya as she pulled out her phone and looked around.

“Let's hope Tom doesn't catch me, or he's gonna get mad.” Maya whispered.

Maya opened TikTok and opened the search bar. And on the trending searches, ‘The Rhythm of New York’ was there. She tapped the search suggestion and clicked on the first video as she handed the phone over to Y/n.

Y/n watched the video with anticipation as a girl with curly brunette hair and blue eyes entered the screen.

“Okay so if you haven't heard, MTV is hosting an event in New York called the ‘Rhythm of New York.’ In this event, a lot of musicians and other celebrities have been invited.” The girl explained ecstatically. “MTV wants 10 or so people to come perform in front of these celebrities which sounds so nerve racking but fun!”

“Oh, so it's a celebrity event?” Y/n asked.

“Yeah, I heard Beyoncé and Billie are going. If I could sing, I would audition. Wait, hold on…” Maya smirked at Y/n.

“I know what you're thinking. You want me to audition. And I was gonna audition.”

“Was?”

“I saw a poster while I was walking here so I thought I'd ask you something about it. But if there are gonna be celebrities there? Then I'm out!”

“Girl, why?! This is your chance to turn your 200 monthly listeners to 20 million! Maybe even more, who knows? And the cash prize is $5,000! And you'll be on live TV!”

“I know, that's a good cash price and I'd love to go on live TV. But performing in front of a bunch of talented musicians? What if I mess up?”

“You won't. I've heard your songs girl and they are beautiful!”

“Okay, and what is MTV gonna think when a 32 year old woman with a struggling music career who also works at a diner wants to audition. They're gonna think-”

“Nothing.” Maya interrupted.

“Sorry?”

“Nothing. They're gonna think nothing. They're not gonna care how much you're struggling when talent like you shows up on their doorstep.”

“Yeah, but-”

Y/n was interrupted by a jingle, indicating that their first customer of the day walked through the doors.

“We'll talk about this later.” Maya said.

“Dad, come on! This seems really fun!” Hailie exclaimed as she shook her dad by the shoulders.

“Hailie, get off my shoulders. Listen, I get where you're coming from but in all honesty? I cannot be bothered to fly all the way to New York.”

“Paul thinks it'd be good for you. Plus, you may see someone who might be a good feature in your song.”

“That will probably not happen. Did you hear they were holding the event at The Studio of Webster Hall? I was expecting MTV to hold it at a slightly bigger venue.” Marshall complained.

“What? The Studio of Webster Hall is a beautiful venue. It doesn't matter if it's big.  But come on dad, please?” Hailie begged.

“I won't have anyone to come with me.”

“I can come with you.”

“Don't you have your podcast?”

“My fans will understand. Come on dad, this will be really fun. Plus, Stevie and Alaina are busy, we haven't been able to hang out lately.”

“Okay, fine.” Marshall sighed, a bit embarrassed on how he could easily give in when it came to his daughter.

“Yes!” Hailie cheered.

“Only if you behave.”

“I will, I promise.”

Marshall smiled lovingly at his daughter before pulling her into a hug.

Y/n laid down in her bed as she stared at the picture of the poster on her phone. She contemplated whether or not she should take Maya's advice and call the number. She had all the crucial information needed and now all was left was the decision making.

She dialled the number as her thumb shook and it hovered over the green call button. She finally clicked it, she could feel her heart pumping out of her chest and her stomach twisting and turning.

“This is the Rhythm of New York helpline. Press 1 if you wish to audition.” A robotic female voice said at the end of the line.

Y/n pressed 1 on the keyboard without hesitation. Cliche hotel lobby music started to play for a few minutes before it stopped and a cheery female voice started talking.

“Hi there, I'm Kelly, how can I help you today?”

“Uh hi…” Y/n responded, her voice shaking with nervousness. She mentally slapped herself for sounding so anxious. “Uhm, I want to audition for The Rhythm of New York please?”

“Of course sweetheart. What's your name?”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Okay, and state your age, gender and occupation.”

“Uh, 32, female and I work at a diner. But I also make songs on Spotify.”

“Oh, that sounds nice. Tryna make it big, huh?” 

“Uh, yeah.” 

“I don't blame you. This is a great opportunity for you.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, thanks.”

“I have a few questions I'll have to ask you, is that okay?”

“Go ahead.”

“What song do you plan on singing at the event?”

“Is it okay if I can sing one of my own songs?”

“That is more than okay. What is it called?”

“A Melody from the Heart.”

“Is there any explicit language or topics in your song?”

“One two swear words. I say shit like twice.”

“Is it okay if you can find a way to alter those to different words?”

“Fine by me.”

“Are you aware you will be on live TV?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, are you aware of the date and timings, yes?”

“October 29th and is it 8pm to 12am?”

“Correct. And I assume you are free that night?”

“Yes, but is it okay if I can leave as soon as I finish performing?”

“Uhm, yes…” Kelly responded, confused. “May I ask why?”

“I have to get to work right after.” Y/n lied. In all honesty, she would just want to get out of there as soon as she could. The idea of her possibly talking to a celebrity had her nearly fainting. “It's okay right?”

“Of course, sweetie. I understand you.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“So what you'll need to do is make an audition tape of you singing your song. In the tape you have to state your name-”

“Sorry, could you slow down please? I need to write this.” Y/n interrupted as she quickly found a notebook and pen.

“That's fine. Make an audition tape of you singing. In the tape, state your full name, age and what song you're going to sing. Then send that tape to our email. Type up the information stated in the video on to the email. Make sure to type up your email address and regular address.”

Y/n scribbled all the information into her notebook. “Okay thank you Kelly. When do I have to submit this?”

“Within two days.”

“Oh, and how long is the waiting list?”

“Around 100 people as of now.”

“Oh.”

“Don't worry, Y/n. Even if you don't get it, just know you tried.

Y/n hung up the phone and immediately called Maya, who picked it up as soon as it started ringing.

“Hey Y/n, you okay?” Maya asked.

“I'm good. I just called The Rhythm of New York helpline and got myself registered.”

“Wait, you did?! Oh my gosh, yes!” Maya exclaimed. Y/n could see her smiling through the phone.

“Yup, and I gotta make an audition tape. Is it okay if you can come over? You know, for moral support?”

“Yes, of course! Is that even a question? I'm coming over right now.”

Maya came in a matter of time looking ecstatic as she jumped all over the place.

“Calm down Maya, the downstairs neighbours are gonna kill me.” Y/n laughed.

“I'm sorry, I'm just so happy for you!”

“I haven't even submitted my audition tape.”

“And they're gonna want to have you as soon as they listen.”

“Thank you for the motivation. You are honestly so sweet. Anyway, I need to start this. But I gotta practise first. And I gotta replace a few of the swear words.”

“What song are you singing?”

“A Melody from the Heart.”

“Ooh, your own song! Okay, that's good!”

Y/n spent the next few minutes practising to make sure that she could ace the audition tape. Her and Maya also spent a bit too long trying to figure out what words would sound better to replace ‘shit’. It was harder than it sounds.

When Y/n thought that she was ready to record her tape, Maya immediately stopped her.

“Girl, are you seriously gonna make your tape in a baggy shirt and shorts right now?”

Maya was right. Y/n looked like a hot mess. She was wearing a pair of red shorts and a baggy black top. Her hair was a mess too.

“Okay I guess you're right. What should I wear?”

The girls then spent the next 20 minutes scouring through Y/n's closet, trying to find a nice outfit. They settled on a long white silk dress. Maya insisted on doing Y/n's hair. She ended up settling on a nice sleek bun. Maya then put on a little bit of makeup for her, wanting to be Y/n's personal stylist.

“I look amazing!” Y/n exclaimed. “Thank you Maya. What would I do without you?” Y/n immediately pulled her friend into a tight hug.

“Of course, I wanna always be here for you. Are you ready to make that tape?”

“You bet I am! I just gotta practise one more time.”

Y/n finished one last practice of her song and took a deep breath as she nodded to Maya, indicating her to turn on the camera.

“Hi, I'm Y/n Y/l/n and I'm a 32 year old female auditioning to sing at The Rhythm of New York. I'm going to be singing one of my own songs that I wrote myself called, A Melody from the Heart.” She tried to sound confident, and she mainly did. Although she did accidentally let a bit of nervousness slip through her voice.

Y/n started singing her song, being careful and mindful, making sure she hit all her notes perfectly and got the lyrics correct. She made sure to keep her song clean and Live TV friendly. She sounded angelic and her voice was absolutely beautiful. Once she was done she nodded to Maya, a sign to her to turn the camera off.

“Do you wanna listen to it?” Maya asked.

“Yeah let me see.”

Despite sounding absolutely perfect, Y/n would keep asking Maya to record her again and again until she was happy with the results. It took around 3 or 4 tries before she was finally happy and decided that she was done.

“I think this is the one. I just gotta send it to them.” Y/n confirmed.

“That's good. It's getting late, I gotta get going. I'll see you tomorrow. Good luck, girl.” Maya responded.

“Of course. Thank you again for the help. See you tomorrow.”

“You're welcome. Bye.”

Y/n bid Maya bye before sending her video to MTV's email and typing the necessary information on the email. Once she was happy, she clicked send and held out a breath she didn't realise she was holding.

Y/n got changed out of her clothes and took off her makeup. She redid her makeup and had dinner before brushing her teeth and getting into bed.

[ayeyolooo]

DRIFT

PLEASE READ THE WARNING BEFOFE INTERACTING WITH THE STORY!

Warning! Y/n is black!! I write for black readers if you didn’t know already. But anyone can feel free to read this! Connie and eren are Hispanic, and me not knowing how to speak Spanish like at alll unfortunately I have to use the translator💔. Please bare with with y’all😭. There will be an oc :) oh and please excuse my grammatical errors! <3

“Y/n will you be able to come to this race? Cause we don’t have a fourth.” Your friend begged you over the phone. “Kasa, you know ion race no more like that.” You said laying your edges down. Even though you were saying all of this, you were getting ready so that you could race.

“But y/n please please please please.” You just sighed. “Fine.” You said with a giggle. “Yayy omg when you come I’m going to literally kiss you everywhere.” She said as wind blew having the phone make noise on mikasa’z end. “Okay just call me when you get here y/n.” Mikasa said before handing up. You just sighed as you grabbed your purse and walked out the house. You checked and made sure that you had your cash on you cause you had to pay to enter a race.

You unlocked the door and walked up to your purple sports car. It was a little on the older side but that’s what made it unique and exciting. You dragged your hand across the door as you opened it and sat down in the car. You began to pray before you drove off and to the race site.

“Whew.” You sighed before pulling up. When you pulled up no one could see who you were due to your tents being dark. Your engine roared catching the attention of the other racers. Mikasa turned around quickly knowing that you were there because she knew the sound of your car. She and Sasha squealed and jumped up and down with eachother before walking over to your car.

“Kasa who is that?” Jean asked as mikasa opened your door. “One of my friends what will be the fourth today.” She simply said with a large smile on her face.

“Se van a avergonzar.” Connie said with a snort. You just smiled and ran your tongue across your teeth. Eren, ony, and armin all just laughed.

They’re going to embarrass themselves.

“Would you like to show them whose driving?” Mikasa said as she leaned over your car. “Nahhh.” You said shaking your head and smiling revealing your smiley piercing. “Okay we’ll good luck y/n.” Mikasa said taking the was of cash from your hands and pecking your cheek. She closed your door back and walked over to the boys to collect their money too.

“Bru he driving that girl ahh car. How they gone win?” Connie cackled. “Choke.” Mikasa said before taking his money. “When we beat them mikasa you gone have to give us our money back plus $1,000.” Mikasa shrugged. “Mmhm yeah that’s if y’all win.” She said nonchalantly. “Whatchu mean by that?” Mikasa just shrugged.

“When she beat y’all don’t come crying to me,cause y’all was doing all of that talking.” Mikasa shrugged and walked back to the little booth. “SHE!?” All of the boys asked in confusion. They all looked over to your car trying to get s glimpse of how you looked hut couldn’t due to your tents. “READY!” Your adrenaline began to pump. You forgot how good it felt when you were about to race.” You pressed your foot on the gas reviving your engine. You turned on your radio having TBH by party next door come to and end and welcome to the party, by party next door started playing.

The bass from the music blasted in your speakers having your seat vibrate and you just smiled at this exciting moment.

You smiled at the sounds of the other cars. “SET!” You rolled your windows down as you just kept your focus on the road ahead of you. You felt eyes starring at you on the right side of your face. They seen your beautiful brown skin and your red lace wig that complimented your skin.

“GO!” Everyone took off. You turned your music up loud as you smoothly drove past three cars. You were in second place, being that the one with E.Y on the back of his car was in the front. Hm..

There was a turn incoming you stepped on the break and grabbed the clutch having a smooth drift. Due to eren having a slight mess up you flew infront of him. You went around the track two more times before crossing the finish line, having eren after you, and ony after.

You just got out leaning on your car waiting for everyone to finish. Mikasa walked up to you and the both of you smiled and she squealed. “You did yo shit once and againnnnn.” Mikasa said as the both of you laughed. “Yk I had to show out for my gurl.” You said winking at her.

This was sitting in my drafts for a while 💀. Anyways Jesus loves you ml <3

[shitsndgiggs]

kenan and oc are on a beach front holiday together but oc can't stop getting jealous at everyone looking at her attractive and toned boyfriend. she tells kenan to put his shirt on but kenan teases her because he loves to see how riled up she gets because of him so in return she makes him jealous back. cute moments between them!

JEALOUSY JEALOUSY - KENAN YILDIZ

Kenan teasing you for being jealous

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The sun was slowly dipping below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the beach. The day had been perfect—just Kenan and me, enjoying each other's company with nothing to do but relax.

We were lounging on sunbeds, soaking up the last rays of the day when I started to notice something. Every time someone walked by, their eyes seemed to linger a little too long on Kenan.

He was stretched out beside me, shirtless, his toned abs and muscular arms on full display. With his tousled hair and easy smile, he looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine. And I wasn’t the only one who thought so.

My jealousy began as a small, nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach, but the longer it went on, the more it grew.

I tried to push it down, telling myself that it was silly to feel this way, but it was hard to ignore when every passing person seemed to be drooling over my boyfriend.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.

"Kenan," I said, my voice tinged with irritation, "could you maybe put your shirt back on?"

He glanced over at me, raising an eyebrow. "Why? It’s hot out here," he said, clearly confused by my request.

I fidgeted with the edge of my towel, trying to keep my tone casual. "I just think it would be nice if you did."

A slow grin spread across his face as realization dawned. "Wait a minute… are you jealous?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

"No," I lied quickly, crossing my arms over my chest. "I just don’t like the way people keep staring at you."

Kenan chuckled, sitting up and turning to face me. "You’re jealous," he repeated, sounding far too pleased with himself. "That’s adorable."

I rolled my eyes, trying to play it off, but I knew my blush was giving me away. "It’s not adorable. It’s annoying," I muttered, avoiding his gaze.

He leaned closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know I’m yours, right? No one else matters," he said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone that sent shivers down my spine.

I tried to stay mad, but it was hard when he looked at me like that. Still, I wasn’t about to let him off the hook so easily. "Fine," I said, pushing myself up from the sunbed. "But two can play at this game."

Kenan watched me with a curious expression as I stood up and stretched, making sure to give him a good view of my bikini-clad body.

I could feel his eyes on me as I adjusted my swimsuit, and when I glanced back at him, I saw the playful smirk had faded into something more serious.

I started walking towards the water, swaying my hips just a little more than usual, knowing full well that he was watching every step I took.

I was almost at the shore when I felt someone approach me from the side.

"Excuse me," a deep voice said, and I turned to see a tall, muscular guy standing next to me. He had a charming smile and an easy confidence that immediately set me on edge. "I just wanted to say, you look stunning in that bikini."

I blinked, surprised by the sudden compliment. "Oh, um, thank you," I replied, trying to hide my discomfort.

But then I remembered what I was trying to do. I gave him a small smile. "You’re not looking too bad yourself," I added, knowing full well that Kenan was watching.

The guy’s grin widened, clearly pleased with my response. "What’s a beautiful girl like you doing here alone?"

Before I could respond, I felt a strong arm wrap around my waist, pulling me back against a firm chest. "She’s not alone," Kenan’s voice came from behind me, low and possessive. I could feel the tension radiating off him as he stared down the guy.

The guy’s eyes flicked between Kenan and me, his confident demeanor faltering slightly. "Oh, sorry man, I didn’t know…"

Kenan didn’t bother responding. He was too focused on me, his grip on my waist tightening slightly as he guided me away from the guy and back towards our spot on the beach.

Once we were far enough away, he stopped and turned me to face him. His eyes were dark with a mix of jealousy and frustration, and I could tell that my little stunt had gotten under his skin.

"That wasn’t funny," he said, his voice low and serious.

I bit my lip, trying to suppress a smile. "I wasn’t trying to be funny," I replied, looking up at him through my lashes. "I just didn’t want you to forget who you’re with."

Kenan’s expression softened slightly, but the intensity in his gaze didn’t waver. "Trust me, I could never forget that," he said, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. "But that doesn’t mean I liked seeing some random guy hitting on you."

I reached up to cup his cheek, my thumb brushing over his stubbled jaw. "Now you know how I feel," I whispered, leaning in close.

He let out a low chuckle, his breath warm against my skin. "You don’t have to worry about anyone else," he murmured, his lips brushing against mine. "You’re the only one I want."

Before I could respond, he captured my lips in a searing kiss, one that left no room for doubt. I melted into him, all thoughts of jealousy and teasing fading away as his arms wrapped around me, pulling me impossibly close.

When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathing heavily, the tension between us replaced by something much sweeter.

"You’re such a tease," I whispered, my fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Kenan grinned, his hands sliding down to give my waist a gentle squeeze. "Only because I know you can handle it," he teased back, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at my lips. "You’re lucky I love you," I said, shaking my head at him.

He leaned down to press another kiss to my lips, this one soft and sweet. "I know," he whispered against my mouth. "And I’m the luckiest guy in the world because of it."