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neighbourscat · 1 month ago

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𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐑 , father charlie mayhew

MAKING A WOMAN OUTTA YOU.

𓈒 ˙ ꪆৎ ꣹ ۫ 𖨂 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 . .. . priest!charlie m. X non-believer!black!fem!reader || second person ( you, yours, you’re ) + lowercase intended.

+ synopsis. for such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of christ: and no marvel, for the devil himself is transformed into an angel of light: therefore it is no great thing if his ministers also be transformed as the ministers of righteousness, whose end shall be according to their works. - 2 corinthians 11:13-15

+ cw. grandma thinks reader is troubled and sexually active :: ‘G’ in ‘God’ is lowercased. use of ‘y/n’, brief mention of pregnancy and abortion, sacrilege / taboo, blasphemy, abuse of authority, feeding that fantasy / giving into obsession / scratching that itch , religious shame / guilt || pússy drunk father charlie, he’s so vocal — dirty talk, overstim, “angel” petname, choking, unprotected sex / charlie rejecting two condoms, multiple creampies, charlie & his standing positions.

+ nali’s notes; charlie mayhew & those blood red cowboy boots. writing gratuitous smut to breathe / did not expect to write this much. wordcount :: 6.2k+

+ to be played: family tree, ethel cain. || alternative: church, chase atlantic + numb, rihanna & eminem.

MAKING A WOMAN OUTTA YOU.

in two swift motions, you refolded the pamphlet and shoved it into the large pocket of your purse — letting the sleek paper crumble and tear. your grandmother norrice sat beside you, scanning through her copy of the same pamphlet and grinning softly. “you new adults are lucky,” the elder had said, removing her thin-wire, rectangular framed reading glasses, “it’s so good for young women to attend these type of things; to keep their hearts and minds pure. if i had such opportunity at your age, i would certainly have my life together.”

your relationship with the church had always been strained, and belief in god, at least the way your grandmother spoke about him, never came naturally to you.

annoyedly, “grandma . .. your life is fine.” norrice gave a small shake of her head and pushed her grandma-glasses back into place. “my life could be better. i would have done more,” she said in a wobbly voice. grandma norrice had fallen pregnant with your father at the young age of sixteen, and since her parents ( your greats ) were opposed to abortion, considering such action immoral, grandma norrice was forced to adult much quicker. “look. look. come look at this,” showing off the pamphlet, pointing a wrinkly finger over a bolded textbook — “start over. rededicate yourself as a virgin,” she read.

grandma norrice lowered the pamphlet into her lap. “isn’t that amazing?” you sighed deeply, swallowing down the hysterical laugh that almost left your throat. grandma norrice could feel the aggravation that seamed off of your body. “hey . ..” again, she pulled those thin-glasses off the bridge of her nose. she placed a cold hand onto your forearm and squeezed lovingly, “i’m only asking you for one. one session, hmm?”

and on: “you go in there and you listen. you show up for yourself, right?” grandma norrice reached and hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head toward her. “you go in there and confess your defiance. you go in there and pledge yourself to be pure again in the eyes of the lord-“ there had been a misunderstanding between you and your grandmother norrice.

backstory: grandma norrice likes to keep her receipts. all of them. every last one. she had folders upon folders that divided her receipts by year and frequently shopped stores. she considers her an organizer, but she’s a hoarder . .. of paper. anyways, one day, way back when, she had read an advertisement in the town’s newspaper, that pretty much said: ‘good-day people of mississippi! make money off your receipts! one receipt for one penny!‘ the company had been active many years later, sending grandma norrice rolls and rolls of pretty brown pennies, but as the world aged and technology progressed — the company died.

and for some reason, even though she’s been told time and time again that that company had no longer been operating, she still collects and saves — waiting to reach her goal amount and cash in her receipts. she’s nearing a thousand receipts; it was like playing bingo and scratching lottery tickets for her. separating those receipts into their categories gave her joy.

and the short version of why you are here: as she was cleaning out a reusable shopping bag, she had seen a receipt. excited to store it where it belonged, her misty eyes scanned the slip of paper for a date. and though she found the date, she had also seen: CRYSTAL CONDOMS EXTRA VALUE , 4.99. a box of condoms was bought.

no, you weren’t sexually active . .. . but you were planning to be with this guy. and no, he wasn’t just any guy. you’ve been talking to him for a while now and he, surprisingly, has checked off every box in your ‘my type’ list. for the last four months it’s been cute dates and sweet hangouts, and after that makeout session last weekend, you were sure you were ready for it. you wanted to do it with him, badly. so bad that you started carrying two condoms in your purse, like a highschool kid, anticipating the next meet-up.

“-you must desire to re-purity.” you have not had sex yet. “you must desire to be clean.” hearing the low clacks of flat-heels, you turned from your grandmother with a low groan — the quick distraction needed. a woman, looking around your age, had been coming down the hall, giddy and with a greedy look in her blue eyes. her blonde hair, seeming freshly curled, had bounced up and down on her shoulders.

you let your eyes stroll downward; seeing the pamphlet. her copy a nice, pastel green color. a more recent edition. and then came another young woman, she too hurried down the hall with a copy of the pamphlet. “-you need guidance,” your grandmother norrice had still been speaking ( to herself ). “do not let your desires lead you astray.” and as more young women came filing down the hallway, she silenced herself.

“i believe that your time has come for a cleanse,” grandma norrice said, watching as the duos and trios of giggling, beautifully polished young women gathered at the large, double dark-oak doors. she patted your knee twice, telling you to hurry up and along. “i will be right here waiting for you, okay? right here. go on now, hurry in.”

the basement of the church was cold, even in the middle of summer. the pearly fluorescent lights gave the room an almost sterile feel, a stark contrast to the warmth of the sunday service that was held upstairs much earlier. the chairs were arranged in a tight circle, creating an intimacy that felt more like confinement. you made your way down the creaky staircase, stopping at the bottom landing and staring at the misguided women.

the air smelled like old books and faint incense, but none of it brought the comfort your grandmother said that the church would. if you turn back now, you could hide in the bathroom — since whoever was leading this thing wasn’t in yet . .. . but you would have to pass your grandmother to camp out in the bathroom.

you dropped your shoulders with a deep sigh.

you clutched the strap of your purse and eased into the light — careful and observant. you settled down in between two white women who were holding hand-held flip mirrors and fluffing their shiny hair. honey blonde and deep brunette. your gaze shifted then and your curious eyes landed on two other women; spanish women who were re-applying their gloss. the air was heavy, thick with an uncomfortable silence.

one session, your grandmother’s words echoed in your mind: “you need guidance. do not let your desires lead you astray.” maybe if you had had sex, this could be useful. if only she were here to see all of these women in their makeup and neat hairstyles and sitting so proper to show off what they have in the front — and as a slam sounded, the women jumped startled and readied themselves . .. . their heads bowed low in what looked like guilt or shame. fake guilt and fake shame.

“welcome back ladies . .. .” the priest, father charlie maydew, now stood in the center of the circle, his hands clasped in front of him like he was leading a sermon, but there was an edge to his presence that made your skin prickle. eerie, he was. “i applaud each of you for returning this afternoon. i applaud you for wanting better for yourself, and for trusting me to guide you through this process.” he was a tall man, with a face that was just on the edge of a smile, but never quite reaching for warmth.

his collar seemed to cling too tightly around his neck, and his eyes darted around the room, landing on each young woman, one by one; hungrily, before lingering on you for a beat longer than comfortable — his expression unreadable. but then, one corner of his lips tipped upward. the honey blonde at one side of you noticed and for a second, she considered tackling you. but she took a deep breath in and out. in and out.

“thank you for joining us this afternoon,” he said, his voice deep and smooth, his attention making you shrink slightly in your seat — wanting to disappear. father charlie fashioned a calming, slightly condescending grin on his face.

the other women turned to look at you, some with curiosity, some with attitude, but all with fake sympathy. “why don’t you introduce yourself?” his tone was warm, but something about it felt performative, rehearsed. the tall priest took two big steps back and gestured toward the center of the center.

you remained seated — shaking your head no. “i don’t plan on comin’ back, so . .. .” your fingers twisting in your lap, “i don’t think there’s a need to, y’know . .. . know me. know my name. why i’m here.” you finished with a shy chuckle. no one laughed with you. no one cracked a smile.

a bushy brow of his lifted a bit. he noted how sure of yourself you seemed after that statement. father charlie decided to try again: “please, come. introduce yourself.” all eyes were on you . .. . and you felt like a teenager again about to give a solo-project presentation. “i don’t . .. .” a scoff and another nervous chuckle. “there’s no reason for that. like i said, this is an in and out kind of thing for me.”

father charlie never had to ask twice. young women, such as those around him, moved whenever he needed something done. they moved as quick as possible, they never wanted him to lift a finger. any and every favor was complete without complaint or hesitation. though he never had to ask twice, for you, he’d give it a third go. “this is a safe environment. what is shared here will stay here. right in this circle. our small community.” as father charlie spoke, he stepped along said circle. the women smiled up at him as he passed, their hearts fluttering and their stomachs knotting.

when he landed, standing right before you, he held out his hand. “grab onto me . .. . and come forth.” his voice smooth, almost hypnotic. you felt the weight of the gazes from the other women — some surprised, their faces drawn in confusion and puzzlement. no one had ever hesitated to take father charlie’s hand. you could see the tension in their bodies, the way they sat stiffly, chests and shoulders leaned in, they were practically on the edge of their seats . .. . wondering if you’d keep denying the man or finally give into him.

but, they all swore that they’d rather be you right now; looking up at father charlie as he offered his beautiful hand.

“grab . .. . onto me.” fifth time.

you took a dekko at his hand — thinking.

and when your hand fell onto his, a collective sigh had gone up. father charlie clasped his other hand on top of yours and gave a pat; a pat that said: thank you, gorgeous.

you kept your hand in his as you took to your feet. father charlie’s palm felt nice in yours; surprisingly soft — he walked you to the circle’s center and released your hand, his fingers dragging against yours as he parted. “there is no need to be shy.”

you were annoyed.

“my name’s y/n, ‘nd, well . .. . i’m here ‘cause of my,” you cleared your throat, then trailed off abruptly, “my grandma.” the women stared amongst themselves for a second and then looked up at you again. you raised your chin softly, catching a glimpse of father charlie beyond you. not hovering, but towering perfectly. “it’s silly, really,” you had told the group, folding your arms over your chest protectively, “she does this thing . .. a-this weird thing, where she .. . like, keeps all of her receipts?”

you heard a soft hum come from behind your back. you wanted to look around, to look at father charlie, but you kept yourself from doing so. “it’s a long story . .. well, not exactly, no. it’s actually the shortest story in history, really-“ fast paced babbling. purely from the anxious energy that coursed and spun throughout your body. for some people, their brains lock up and they have trouble thinking of things to say. for you, being jittery filled your mind with thoughts, along with an urge to say them all. right now. as fast as you can. “-when she was much much younger and livin’ in mississippi, she was reading a newspaper . .. .”

and you rambled. and you rambled. and you rambled.

“‘nd she thinks that i’m having sex, which-“ you laughed at the thought, “-which i am not. i’m not.” directed to the women. “seriously, i’m not.” was directed to father charlie. “i’m here for no reason, honestly. i’ve been forced here on an assumption. a silly assumption. i’ve been carryin’ ‘round condoms, but that’s all-“ the embarrassing statement caught you off-guard.

with a hand, father charlie gestured toward your chair — clearly telling you to sit the fuck down. you hurried back. you dropped down and quickly kicked your purse underneath the seat; as if to hide the condoms that were already tucked in a zipper pocket.

“at least you’re having protective sex,” the brunette whispered over, not even facing you. you almost choked on nothing: “no, i’m not,” you answered too quickly. that didn’t sound right. “i-fuck. no, i’m not havin’ sex. but if i was, i would be protected,” you corrected. “that’s what makes this whole thing hilarious. i’m still a virgin.” the brunette looked at you. “then why are you here?” your shoulders slumped, “did . .. . did you not hear me?” you asked, pointing to the circle’s center. the brunette said no, “would you listen to yourself talk about your grandma collecting receipts? we all were falling asleep, sweetie. i was so tuned out, which never happens here.”

you shifted your weight a bit, turning your body toward her.

“wait, so why are you here, seriously?” she tilted her head.

you opened your mouth to speak and heard a finger-snap. “ladies . .. .” father charlie urged. he clasped his hands in front of him and continued, “you are here because of your struggle. each of you struggle. struggle with the desires of the flesh. desires that pull you away from god.“ he lifted a hand toward you, “she travels with condoms. can anyone tell me what that says about her?”

two arms had gone up and you so desperately wanted to leave.

father charlie called on tabitha, her loose waves pulled up into a high ponytail. her eyes sparkled. “it is clear that she is eager to engage in sexual intercourse with a man. it is on her mind and she is desperate for it. but if such dangerous thought continues to linger, she will eventually take action.”

you scoffed, “i am not ‘eager’ or ‘desperate’. i jus’ wan’a-“ father charlie raised a hand, shushing you from going any further. your lips shut, disappointedly. “that is correct, thank you, tabitha.” and she felt her bones rattled.

father charlie’s eyes slid back to you, his voice dropping into something softer, more personal. “these desires . .. these thoughts, like tabitha had stated, they are dangerous. but luckily, they can be controlled. with the right guidance.”

you felt the heat of his attention again, the way his words seemed to be directed specifically at you, though there were ten other women sitting in this circle. you lowered your gaze, trying to find comfort in your lap, but the room seemed to close in around you.

“lust,” he continued, stepping closer to where you sat, “is the most powerful weapon the devil has. it twists the human mind, makes you believe that these urges are natural.” father charlie had left the circle for a moment, their eyes following except yours. he had never left the circle before — he stuck there for every session. his hand rested on the back of your chair, and you froze. “but they are not. not one bit. they are sins. and we are here to free you from that temptation.”

“desires,” he said then, his voice dropping into a low murmur, “can be dangerous if left unchecked. they can consume you.“

a few of the women murmured, their voices barely audible. you remained silent, your heart thudding painfully in your chest. his fingers brushed against your shoulder, lightly, almost as if by accident, but you knew it wasn’t. the touch was deliberate, testing. father charlie leaned in more, pressing himself into the chair fully now. “god forgives,” his voice velvety, his hand lingering on your shoulder for a moment too long. “but only if you are truly willing to repent. to give yourself fully to him . .. .”

you stiffened, not sure if you were reacting to the feel of him or the fact that he was singling you out again.

you wanted to stand, to leave, but something kept you anchored to the chair. a combination of guilt, fear, and an unshakable sense that you should’ve never came.

father charlie moved away, continuing his slow pace around the group of beautiful women. he spoke about discipline, about submission to god’s will, about sin and repentance, but each word felt laced with something darker. something unspoken.

you glanced around the room, noticing the way the other women seemed to hang onto his every word, their eyes ogling and admiring how he carried himself. you weren’t sure what you expected from this session, but the way he spoke about desire — like it was something to be ashamed of — made you uncomfortable. sure, you had your own struggles, but was that really something that needed to be controlled like a disease?

this was something else entirely . .. . and it was confusing.

as the session dragged on, you realized that the shame you felt was from being here, in this room, where father charlie wielded his authority like a blade, cutting away at the parts of you that made you human.

at the end of the session, as the other women began to gather their things and shuffle toward the door, father charlie gestured for you to stay behind. you hesitated, but the weight of expectation pressed down on you, making it impossible to refuse.

you slung the strap over your shoulder and held the leather close, as if to comfort yourself.

and once the room was empty, he stepped to you, a smile creeping back onto his face. “thank you for sharing this afternoon. that was quite the story,” he said, his tone sickeningly sweet. “i know you said that this was a . .. . ‘one and done’, type of thing-“

you wanted to speak but nothing came out.

“but, i think we need to have a private conversation. just you and me. i can help you further. i would like to help you further, y/n.”

the bile rose in your throat, but all you could manage was a nod, the fear of what would happen if you said no silencing you. you quickly turned your back and left for the double doors.

you entered quietly, hoping not to draw attention, but the oak door creaked louder than you expected, making a few heads turn. you weren’t that late, just a few minutes, but it was enough to feel the shift in the room’s energy as you found an empty chair in the circle. the same chair you had been seated in last weekend. father charlie had made sure to leave it out.

“punctuality is important,” father charlie said smoothly, his voice breaking through the murmurs as he watched you take your seat. his smile was there, but it didn’t reach his eyes. you gave a quick nod of apology, shifting uncomfortably as you settled in, trying to brush off the feeling that all eyes were on you.

this time . .. . you were here by choice — you hadn’t told your grandmother norrice that father charlie had asked you to return. you knew that if you did, she’d throw a fit. she’d throw a damn superbowl party — it unsettled you, but at the same time, something pulled at you. maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about how he had made you feel just by looking at you, as if he could see something in you that no one else could. whatever it was, it brought you back.

there was a distance between you and the women, a sense that you weren’t part of their world just yet. a sense that you were special, and far more important to father charlie.

“but, i am glad that you’ve decided to return.” you gave a small nod, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. “yeah, i . .. . i figured i’d give it another try,” you had said.

he nodded, as if he had expected nothing less. “good. very good.” father charlie smiled at you, but it wasn’t comforting. there was something behind it — something almost predatory in the way he seemed to hold his gaze on you, like he was sizing you up. then, he turned to address the group, but his words felt distant, again like they were just for show. you couldn’t focus on the session. your thoughts were too tangled, your mind too occupied with what he had said last time.

i think we need to have a private conversation.

“even if-when you don’t believe,” father charlie said, closing in behind your chair, his voice low enough that only you could hear, “god has a plan for you. you just have to let him in.”

you swallowed hard, fingers swiping along the smooth paint of your nails, unsure of what else to do. his hand found your shoulder for a second or three before he moved on, continuing his speech. the other women nodded along, their heads still bowed in what looked like submission.

as the session dragged on, you found yourself drifting in and out of the conversation, only half-listening. you weren’t here for the church, you weren’t here for god, you weren’t here for your grandmother, you weren’t here to be lectured about how your desires were dangerous if not properly controlled . .. . you were here for father charlie.

as the session wound down, the other women began to gather their things, exchanging quiet goodbyes. father charlie’s eyes followed them out, but he didn’t speak. he was waiting — waiting for them to leave, waiting for you. he caught your eye, giving you a knowing look. “stay . .. ?” he mouthed, the request felt more like a command.

tension.

when the last of the women finally left, the door closing softly behind her, the room seemed to shrink. the room felt different — charged. father charlie slowly walked over to where you sat, his presence looming larger now that it was just the two of you. his smile was still there, but it was different in this quiet space, more intense, more focused.

father charlie sat down in the chair right next to you. he scooted closer to you, grunting as he moved the chair with him — scraping it against the stone floor. his voice was soft, intimate. “i’m really glad you gave this another chance.” his dark eyes locked on yours with a strange intensity. “you know, sometimes the answers we are looking for are . .. . in places we wouldn’t expect.”

“like the basement of my grandmother’s church,” you had said mindlessly. father charlie gave you a gentle grin, showing you that he had been amused. barely. “yeah. exactly that. the basement of your grandmother’s church. but . .. . like i was saying-“ his hand brushed lightly against your arm, “-i think that you’re searching,” his voice a bit lower, like a secret was being shared. “-searching for something deeper, something that no one else can give you. i see it in you, the desire for connection.”

connection.

“i want to help you work through . .. . your urges.”

there was no mistaking it now — the way he said urges, the way his voice dipped, made it clear he wasn’t talking about faith or repentance anymore. “we all have them,” he murmured, his eyes scanning your face like he was looking for something, some sign of compliance or curiosity. “it happens.” his hand slid downward. just a little closer they went . .. . fingers grazing the back of your hand, subtle but deliberate. “i can guide you through it,” he whispered. “let me help you.”

your pulse quickened, a sense of alarm flooding through you, but there was also a need.

“you have to trust me. you have to let me in.”

“i don’t . .. know. i don’t think-“

father charlie’s smile deepened, his hand gently squeezing your forearm. “sometimes, we don’t know what we need until we find it. trust me. you’re here for a reason. god brought you back for a reason, right?”

his words hung in the air, heavy with a meaning that wasn’t lost on you.

“i don’t know,” you repeated yourself.

you tried to look away, but his hand reached out, his fingers lightly gripping your chin, forcing your gaze back to him — like he was trying to hold you in place, make you stay in this moment with him. “i know what you’ve been feeling. i know what’s pulling at you. you want to give in, yeah? to feel something . .. .”

“sometimes . .. . we’re not meant to fight it. sometimes, we’re meant to feed it.” he dropped his hand from your chin.

“but yesterday, you said . .. .”

he chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it, only a dark edge. “i know what you want. i know what your body wants, what it’s demanding from the world.” his hand moved, not to your arm this time, but to the small space between your shoulder blades. “and there’s nothing wrong with wanting and needing to feel pleasure. most times, we need personal attention to overcome and strive.

“i didn’t tell the others; but sometimes . .. . we have to allow ourselves to feel these things in order to rise above it. that’s how we control it.” his fingers slid down your back slowly. “desire can a gift — one that can bring two closer to the truth of who we are. allow me to help you feed it.”

. .. .

“are you going to let me help you now?”

. .. .

“yes.”

and he wasted no time bringing a hand up to grab the zip of your short-sleeved hoodie. he pulled down carefully, the plump cleavage of your breasts peeking. his other hand smoothed along your curly slicked back hair, “thank you,” he whispered.

and though you were prepared for something like this, the contraceptives in your purse went unused. when charlie had seen you flick it out — showing off the metallic dark green wrapper, the imprint of the condom bold — he refused, immediately: “no.” simple. flat and cold.

charlie plucked the packet from your perfectly-manicured fingers and tossed it across the floor, dark eyes boring into you. you looked at him as if he had lost his mind. just as you were about dig into the pocket for the other condom, charlie gripped your wrist; the pressure gentle but firm. “what do you mean ‘no’?” you asked — though you knew exactly what he meant.

“i have something real to give.” in other words, he would not be spilling his seed into some rubbery latex. there was no blocking him out. “i need you to feel everything. okay? you need to.” you couldn’t oppose him.

and here you were: holding onto his forearms. his arms had prodding veins for days. from his wrists to the tops of his large shoulders. he was so built, you weren’t at all expecting it. “. .. ready, angel?” you nodded down at him sweetly, hands sliding up to his flexed biceps. “wan’a be yours already. please ..” charlie had you right where he wanted you. there was something so nasty about the smirk that grew across his face, “god saved you for me . .. . wanted me to have you.”

“mm, think so?” came quiet and soft.

“know so,” charlie muttered, stroking himself messily. “i know so.” he reached down for you, carefully lining himself up with your heavenly entrance. “taste me.” his words are sweet, poison laced sugar. you kissed him, letting your eyes close as you did so.

and when he slipped inside, spongy and slimy, it was like his own personal hell. you were so much better than he could’ve imagined. charlie had gone completely silent, choking on air — like he was just punched in the gut. there’s no comparison, no feeling in the world . .. . he couldn’t form a single, coherent thought. you were gripping him just right, massaging his cock like you really were made to have him as your first. like he was made to stretch your hymen.

“fucking shhit,” charlie’s head gradually tossed itself back. he couldn’t keep his mouth shut, couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice, couldn’t keep himself from hiccuping and mumbling your name and calling you ‘angel’. “f-fuck. fuck, fuck, hang’on, f-please . .. hang on.” charlie had to pause halfway, huffing out an overwhelmed breath. he’s drooling — he couldn’t quite fathom how amazing you felt on the inside.

you sighed, and sighed again as his nose brushed your throat, as he guided your hips — slowly and tediously, pulling you up and down. your jaw hung open desperately, toes curling with each vein he gradually dragged so rigidly along your walls. “i’ve got y-you . .. . i promise, angel. i’ve got’cha,” you were taking him so well despite the pain, making it harder to resist the urge to pound into you.

your cunt readily accepting the priest’s dick as it oozed against your insides and spreads the flame of desire.

he’s making your pussy his own; shaping your cunt, molding you into the perfect cocksleeve. pretty much carving his name into it. and he was trying his best. trying so hard to be as gentle and as slow as he could possibly be, fighting every bad thought that so tightly pulled and demanded he go deeper. charlie did well, swallowing those thoughts down . .. but it was tiring.

it was exhausting. so fucking exhausting, especially when your desperate cunt keeps sucking and swallowing him in deeper after each and every pass. charlie kissed and licked at your neck, blankly trying to distract himself — which gave nothing. your cunt would not let up. nothing would give. not like this. there was no way. there was nothing in this world strong enough to pull him away from you and your warm cunt.

charlie’s guiding your hips so slow that it was painful. he’s trying to make every thrust connect — he’s groaning and struggling to keep his dark eyes open. you're smothering his entire cock with nothing but your slippery slick, hearing the filthy clicks ring from in between your sweaty thighs — he’s so lost in the sounds of you.

you are secured to him; fingers tangled into his brunette hair, gripping strands and raking your nails along his scalp, eliciting a satisfying moan to slip past his pretty lips. you blinked away, only for a moment, and stared down at his glossy lips. covered in his spit, your toes are curling. your tummy is doing cartwheels — butterflies no longer butterflies but pterodactyls.

“y-you’re .. . .. ‘t’s so deep ..” charlie gave a gentle smile, one hand slipping up and caressing the curve of your back. “i know i am. i know. i can feel it too, angel.” your sleepy gaze remained on his smiling lips. you licked at your own, almost leaning in to capture his. “i can feel everything . .. .” and you felt fan-fucking-tastic. “everything.”

you bit back a smile.

charlie winced lowly, his thighs starting to rattle. “hurts to .. to keep goin’ this slow ..”

it felt like he was worshipping you — that you are the sacred body here, two bright candles flickering in the corner — he’s worshipping you, you’re sure of it, with tongue and teeth and cock. it’s messy, and he’s not shy, those lips that could stir a congregation with their sweetness, his golden tongue .. . “nngh-wait,” you pleaded softly. “w-wha’?”

clenching around him so tight you could feel the outline of his prominent veins, the sensitive spots along his shaft. charlie’s brows furrow in clean focus, letting out a sultry string of words, “i .. i can’t.” he's buried nose deep near the crook of your neck. “i’m sorry, angel. i can’t .. fuck, i can’t.” he softly rasped as deep brown locks of hair stick against his shiny skin. “takin’ everything in me . .. i’m tryin’, fuckk, i’m tryin’ for you-don’t wan’ it to hurt . .. .” you felt his throaty pants trail against your skin, “but i’ve gotta go harder.”

with a sheepish smile, you met his chocolate-eyed gaze, moaning a soft: “okay ..”

“y-yeah?”

your weak arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, the pads of your fingers almost rubbing against a fresh scar, “mhmm .. . do it, please.” the ghost of a smirk. charlie’s thick fingers clasped at your waist; the decorative beads printing mini dents into your brown skin. effortless, he lifted your hips and fixed himself — the feet of the chair loudly scratching the cold, stone floor. “you’re the best i’ve ever felt, angel .. . s’hot inside. s’soft.” that deep, silky whisper has your cunt quivering disgustingly. and he’s driving his hips up, fast, drilling himself into your body.

“so fuckin’ wet-“ one hand cupped the side of your face, bringing you in. you’re both panting, quick and short, breathing hot and heavy air into each other’s mouths. “pretty hole sucking me in so good . .. .” your teeth nipped at your plump lower lip, drinking him in. charlie’s hot fingers slipped underneath your waistbeads, toying with the jewellery. “so good, angel . ..”

the gel slicking back your naturally thick hair put up zero match against the heat of this basement. edges once neatly laid, were puffing up — stretched curls lifting out of place and shrinking.

“fuck-never wanna leave.” your heart continued to race at his obscene words. and you caressed his face, whispering about how good he was making you feel. he mewled at your validation, wanting to please, needing to be the best for you.

and he’s so loud, so hungry for more. with the way charlie’s long lashes flutter and his hooded eyes droop, he was so visibly pussy drunk. already nearing the edge and trying his best not to tip over. balancing on a uni-cycle on a string of the cheapest of cheap dental floss.

he could practically taste the pleasure on his tongue — release is coming quick and there was no preparing himself for it. not enough preparation in the world. the pointed tips of his ears burn with intense, searing heat.

“oh my-! oh god!”

“no-“ charlie cursed under his breath and snapped a hand over your throat, all five fingers digging into your brown skin — “-no. fuck no. you don’t call on god. you-you don’t call on him. don’t. he’s not makin’ you feel good. i am. you call on me,” he ordered, harshly. and all you can is nod and follow his direction. “call for me . .. . do it.” you’re practically speechless, nothing left from your lips yet, all that could be heard was the constant slap slap slap of slippery skin.

and his hand tightened around your neck. “come on, angel . .. say my name.” charlie’s muscled chest heaved up and down, hard. “fucking call on me.”

your hands latched onto his wrist — this new feeling, you couldn't quite describe it. it was tasty and he was peeling you apart, layer by layer. “do it. who’s makin’ you feel good? huh? who’s breakin’ you in half? .. . who’s splittin’ you the fuck open?”

“charlie!” all you can do is choke out a shrill. “you are!”

what happens next takes you by surprise — charlie locked his big burly arms under your thighs and stood up, keeping himself plugged in; nice and snug. the new position, standing, had charlie’s head spinning. he grunted loudly, and it’s a sexy guttural noise. your legs kicking and dangling in the air as he feeds your cunt inch by greedy inch, again and again. “charlie .. .” you whined, pulling at his hair.

“shiit,” and as if a switch had been flipped, hot sticky ribbons shoot right into you, spilling way into your sweet welcoming womb. you gasped, nails scratching into his large shoulders — and the feel of him letting go inside of you has you cumming as well. his panting is deep and animalistic. he held onto your shivering body tighter, his hips never faltering.

beefy arms lifting your sticky body up again, he’s back at it — pushing and eager to reach another one. “a-angel .. .” his entire body hot and heavy. “gonna fill you up again-i’ve gotta.” his brown eyes continued to grow hooded and low.

you were still trying to recover. still coming down from your first orgasm and just barely adjusting to the feel of having his previous load fucked even deeper. “‘m gonna cum again,” he warned softly — cream tearing down his trembly thighs. he’s silently babbling out more whispers and moans of your name. “givin’ you all of me .. .”

you’re flustered right away and wanting to kiss him, hungry to. but as your leaning in, the heels of your feet knocking into the back of his thighs hard, he hoists your legs over his shoulders without so much as a warning. you’re scared to fall, but he won’t let you. he promised you through shaky moans, rocking you up and down.

and you’re gonna pass out, eyes knocking in the back of your skull. your legs bobbing from the movement, you’re trapped against him — and it’s even hotter. even messier and you can’t squirm at all. charlie’s watching your face contort and scrunch and there goes his ego; shooting through the church’s roof and into space. you’re barely hanging onto his big arms and he’s feeling so good about himself. “i can’t-can’t anymore,” you cried to him.

“but you can, angel . .. .” charlie snapped. “keep takin’ it .. and let’s finish together, ‘kay?” and every time you touched down on him, you squeal —

— “charlie . ..” you cooed, voice cracking cutely. your voice made his cock twitch and from the inside, you felt it all . .. . and it felt so nice. so sweet and so insanely intimate. “ch-charlie, pleaseee.” sickly, your voice bounces along the holy walls of the church’s basement.

lips parting as he tried to find his voice: “cum with me, angel-do it,” he pleaded. charlie felt every little reaction and spasm. every cute gasp and cry and moan sent a thick rush through his aching body. and you’re cumming again, holding onto him as tight as you can, clawing at his biceps.

and that’s when he lets go. pumping in yet another hot, thick load of his cum — you almost gag at the re-fill. his grip weakened, but charlie doesn’t let you fall. he told you that he won’t, so he won’t. he’s shivering, feeling a wave crash down onto him as he’s caving into his high . .. .

if this is sin — this beautiful, divine feeling — then what is the point of it all?

#nali’s ᡣ𐭩 #black reader #black writers #nicholas chavez x blackreader smut #grotesquerie #father charlie mayhew #charlie mayhew smut #charlie mayhew x blackreader smut #short story #lengthy #black women #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez smut

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justliketoreadsowhat · 4 months ago

Text

Princess Treatment ✬

✰ 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 ✰

✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫

"Show Me What Color You're Wearing Again" your voice echoing through the phone speakers.

Paige huffed at your question, fixing the color of her burnt orange button-up. She had been ready to go 30 minutes ago, yet your indecisiveness slowed down the process of her leaving out the door.

"If you want me to change just say that" Her face scrunched up, beaming through your phone screen propped up on your vanity.

"No! don't be such a teenager, I just want to make sure our colors match" color coordination was important to you, especially for a day like this. It had been 3 weeks too long since you two last saw each other. The words "summer break" meant the complete opposite for Paige, her schedule was overly hectic, to say the least, you couldn't recall the last time she stayed in one place for more than 24 hours.

"Awh baby you wanna match with me?! I feel so honored" she teased, twirling the lonesome braid stitched in the front of her hair.

"You've been influenced by KK way too much, don't ever do that again please" The feeling of cringe shivered down your spine.

Throwing her hands up in self-defense "It's whatever you want to make of it, just be ready when I get there" Hanging up quickly you were left to hassle with your thoughts

Ready for what exactly ?

You had no clue

The only information you were given was, to be dressed in nice attire within the next hour, although that was never enough time for you.

No complaints would slip from your mouth though, being tucked away in your condo all alone for weeks drained the life out of you, it felt as if the days were all mushing together, repeating in an endless loop.

You were desperate for a change.

✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫

Swinging open the door, you were met with Paige dressed in all her glory, before you could analyze any further, your body flung towards her with an overlying feeling of excitement.

With arms naturally wrapped around your waist like a 2nd nature, every inch fit so perfectly.

"I missed you so much" Your voice trembled with emotion, taking in her aroma of sweet mahogany and amber. You felt her chuckle against your skin "I missed you more princess"

Releasing her from your death grip, you stepped back revealing the now flattened bouquet of flowers. Trying to stifle her laughter "Yeah um.. these were for you but don't worry bout it I'll get you some more" fiddling with the petals trying to make them look alive again.

Taking them into your grasp shaking your head "No it's okay, they're still beautiful" Looking up at her, your eyes met evenly, too evenly.

Breaking eye contact Paige glanced down at your orange heels that matched her outfit perfectly, "I knew something was off, no way you're ever getting past 5'5"

"So you can make fun of my height, but when I tell you you're not 6ft it's a problem" tilting your head, arms crossed instantly waiting for her rebuttal.

"Lying in my face is insane, I'm actually 6'1 so ion wanna hear nothing!" putting up her "talk to the hand" notion. it was good to see her sassiness never left after all this time.

"Let's get going before the sun goes down" taking your hand gently placing it in hers.

"What's so important about the sun?"

"it makes life possible on earth"

"Paige!"

She laughed at her own antics "Just come on and you'll see" opening the car door for you, pulling down the seat to buckle you in. No matter how many times you told her you could do these simple tasks on your own, she insisted every chance she got. Deep down you loved it but she would never get that confession out of you, ever.

"Can I at least get a hint of where we're going"

"Nah, that would ruin the surprise. Just sit back and look pretty" Her hand patted your thigh "Here you can even play your own music" Pressing the Bluetooth button on the screen display.

Your eyes widened "Oh this must be serious, I never though I'd see the day you let me have the aux"

Paige was very serious when it came to her music, it was like touching a thermostat in someone's house, don't ever touch or change it.

"Alright just don't do too much and play that sappy shit" her eyes adverted to you "You know what I'm talking about"

"You're my biggest hater"

"At least you know I'm the biggest" a smug smirk plastered at her face.

✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫✫

After a smooth 20-minute drive, pulling into an empty parking lot accompanied by a movie theater, but not just any movie theater. This is where you and Paige first met 5 years ago. Dating all the way back to late 2019.

Hopkins high school girls basketball team decided to take a trip to see the new movie "Us" on a cool Thursday night before they played their next opponent the following Friday.

You on the other hand had picked up a quick shift that night as a ticket holder. The night was slow until the entire in swarmed in gathering around the glass you stood behind.

Nobody caught your eye except Paige. She was talkative, very talkative. She sweet-talked you so well, the entire team got in for free.

She promised she'd make it up to you, 5 years later it's safe to say she did just that.

Surrounded by hundreds of fairy lights and different variations of flowers, roses, tulips, lilies, you name it. The sun shined on them perfectly projecting their vibrant colors.

Parking the car swiftly, you looked at her, tears threatening to form in your eyes. She quickly noticed, swiping a tear that had begun to fall. "Baby don't cry, we haven't even done anything yet" she pleaded, hopeful you'd abide.

"I know but, it's just so beautiful" you sniffled, glancing out the window once more. Eagerly you unhooked your seatbelt wanting to emerge into the theater, before you could open the door Paige grabbed your wrist "Don't even think about it"

Opening the door your feet planted on the ground, following behind her, constantly looking down at the red rose-petal path that led you through the double doors of the theater.

Nobody else was in sight, besides the two of you.

"Where is everybody?" you questioned noticing how bare the concessions were.

She smirked grabbing a bag of popcorn freely "Ion know, probably at home"

There was no way to legally walk into an establishment unless you owned it, or in Paige's case, rented it out. Her humble traits would never allow her to admit her actions, especially when it came to money.

"Come on I already got your snacks for you, the movie is about to start" holding up an assortment of candy and your extra-large slushy you never end up finishing.

"What movie is it!?" your eyes searching at all the advertised posters of the new releases, there was entirely too many to count.

"Just come onn" she dragged, moving quickly down the empty rows of theaters. Following in her pursuit, the sound or your heels echoed through the hallow hallway, turning a corner Piage disappeared into a theater that glowed with a purple ambiance.

Slowly walking up the ramp to keep up with her, the purple glow became brighter, the lights beamed a deep purple, the screen displayed the Disney Pixar introduction you memorized all too well.

"The Princess and the Frog"

"My favorite!!" gushing with excitement you found yourself nearly toppling over your girlfriend. "i never seen this on the big screen before, how'd did you do all this?.. and the- the purple lights it's so beautiful"

She laughed softly at your reaction, stroking your hand in small circles motion "It's only right I do something special for my special girl"

"You're so cornyyy" you laughed pulling her into a sweet kiss. Pulling away her demeanor switched, becoming slightly nervous. "You okay? if you're gonna complain about my lipgloss again I'll change it"

Paige shook her head "No no it's not that" Fumbling through her deep pockets, pulling out a purple heart-shaped velour box "I got you something, so when I'm away you''ll have something to keep with you" her tone soft as she placed the box in my hand.

You swore she could hear your heart pounding out of your chest if it wasn't for the movie beginning to play through the ceramic speakers. Without wasting a second more you opened the box, revealing a ring engraved in a crown, with purple diamonds in each curve, leaf-shaped, just like your favorite Disney Princess.

In awe you looked up at Paige, tears now falling freely, "This is beautiful Paige, I don't even know what to say" you choked.

Wiping your tears with her thumb, she lifted up her other hand revealing a ring placed on her thumb nearly identical to yours, crown-shaped fairly different with a lighter purple tint of diamonds in each wedge. "Every princess needs her prince right?"

Right

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #paige x reader #fanfic #black stories

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millyh23 · 6 days ago

Text

Selective Standards

Alessia Russo x Reader

word count:

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Y/N walked into the changing room, expecting to find the usual post-training chaos—water bottles here, jerseys there, a few bits of kit scattered on the benches. But this was on another level. A mess of epic proportions.

Protein shake bottles lay on the floor, half-empty, with their lids off, spilling sticky liquid across the floor. An assortment of clothes, some still in training gear and others discarded in the middle of the room, was strewn about, creating an obstacle course. Half-open snack wrappers crinkled underfoot, and towels were abandoned haphazardly across the benches. It looked like someone had taken a whirlwind tour of the room and forgotten to clean up after themselves.

Y/N froze in the doorway, mouth agape.

“What the hell happened in here?” Y/N muttered, stepping into the chaos, surveying the damage. Her hands flew to her hips as she turned to face the team. “Who even leaves a place like this? This is so disrespectful. We’re a team, we’re supposed to take care of our space. Whoever made this mess should be reprimanded. They should pay a fine or be suspended for a game. This is ridiculous.”

The room fell silent. A few players exchanged awkward glances, and some even stifled small chuckles, glancing at each other. It wasn’t every day they saw Y/N go off like this. Normally cool-headed, Y/N’s frustration seemed to be bubbling over today.

Leah, who had just come out of the showers, raised an eyebrow, clearly amused but trying to hold back her laughter. “Y/N… I don’t think it’s that deep.”

“It’s that deep, Leah,” Y/N snapped, gesturing to the mess. “Look at this. It’s disrespectful to all of us. You know how hard we work. This—” She pointed to an empty water bottle rolling across the floor, “—this is a disaster.”

Katie, who was sitting on the bench nearby, grinned mischievously. “You know, you could always just pick it up yourself, right?”

“No,” Y/N huffed, her eyes scanning the room, clearly riled up. “Someone needs to be held accountable. This isn’t just a little accident. It’s a pattern of neglect.”

Just then, the door opened, and Alessia Russo walked in, her attention quickly drawn to the group as she noticed them all looking toward her. She hadn’t noticed the mess yet.

Y/N shot a pointed glance toward the protein shake bottle, still leaking a sticky mess onto the floor. “Whoever did this needs to clean it up—immediately. No exceptions.”

Leah couldn’t help but smile, taking a slow step toward Y/N. “Well, you might want to turn around, because—”

Before she could finish, Y/N’s voice rang out again, sharp and direct. “And I’m serious. If this happens again, I don’t care if it’s—”

“Uh, Y/N,” Leah interrupted, a grin tugging at her lips as she stepped to the side. “It’s Alessia’s mess.”

Y/N froze mid-sentence, her eyes wide. She turned slowly to see Alessia, who was now staring at the group, completely unaware of the mess she had left behind. Her eyes darted from teammate to teammate, catching their expressions. And then her gaze fell on the aftermath she’d left in her rush.

“Oh no,” Y/N muttered, her face turning bright red. She hadn’t even noticed that Alessia was the culprit when she was ranting. “I didn’t—uh… I didn’t realize it was—”

Katie raised an eyebrow, giving Y/N an amused look. “You sure? You were just about to have someone suspended for this.”

Y/N, caught in the moment, quickly tried to backtrack, her voice dropping an octave as she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. “Well, I mean, we all get caught up in things, right? Just a little… oversight. Nothing major. It’s fine. Not a big deal. Right, Alessia?”

Alessia, who had been listening with an amused grin, walked over and casually tossed her gym bag on the bench. “Yeah, I was running late for media stuff,” she said with a shrug. “Guess I left a trail behind me. Sorry about that.”

Y/N, now visibly flustered, waved her hand dismissively, trying to cover up her earlier outburst. “No, no, it’s… it’s really not that serious. Just, maybe next time, a little more care when you’re in a rush? That’s all. Right, guys?” She forced a smile, but it was clear she was embarrassed.

Katie burst out laughing, slapping her hands on the bench. “Oh, you were so ready to fine someone for this mess, and now you’re backtracking?”

“I was just—” Y/N started, but she didn’t have the energy to continue. “I guess I got a little carried away. It’s Alessia. I’ll let it slide… just this once.”

Alessia, who had clearly caught the shift in Y/N’s tone, grinned and casually threw an arm around her shoulders. “It’s all good, babe. Thanks for being so understanding. I’ll do better next time.”

Y/N shot a playful glare at her, trying to regain her composure. “Just… don’t make me do a whole speech next time. I’ll have to give you a fine or something.”

The entire team erupted into laughter as Y/N’s serious demeanor quickly crumbled into a sheepish smile. Alessia leaned in close, still grinning. “You’re the best, Y/N. Maybe I’ll get you to help me clean up next time?”

“Yeah, sure,” Y/N muttered with a roll of her eyes, “I’ll bring the fine book.”

And with that, the room returned to its usual chaos—but this time, everyone was a little lighter, the tension having dissolved in a fit of laughter.

---

The team was starting to form more bad habits. Every day, without fail, more and more players were coming late to training. It wasn’t anything too serious at first—just a few minutes here and there—but Y/N, always one to stick to the rules and maintain discipline, was getting fed up.

It had been the third day in a row that several players were running through the gates minutes after the scheduled start time. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, that’s it,” Y/N muttered to herself, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as the last player jogged onto the field. “Enough is enough.”

She marched up to the front, her voice firm and clear as she addressed the entire team. “I’m done with this. We’re all professionals here, and we can’t keep letting people stroll in whenever they feel like it. From now on, anyone who’s late will be fined. A minute late? A minute’s fine. You’re five minutes late? Five minutes’ worth of fines.”

The room went silent, the rest of the players exchanging nervous glances. They knew Y/N wasn’t messing around.

Katie, ever the troublemaker, leaned in and whispered to Leah, “She’s not serious, is she?”

“Oh, she’s dead serious,” Leah replied, eyes widening as she watched Y/N cross her arms and glare at the group. “You’ve seen her like this before.”

Y/N’s eyes scanned the room, locking onto the players who had been late. “This isn’t school, people. You all know better. You’re adults. You can show up on time. It’s disrespectful to your teammates, and we need to take this seriously.” She turned to face a particularly late-looking Kyra. “Five minutes late today. That’s a fiver.”

Kyra rolled her eyes but said nothing, too tired of the back-and-forth to argue. Y/N then turned her eyes to the next culprit, Alessia, who had just jogged in, breathless from her sprint to the field.

“Alessia, you’re late again!” Y/N snapped, hands on her hips, but before Alessia could even start to apologize, Y/N’s tone softened. “No, no. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. It’s just—training was probably a little too early for you today. I’ll take care of the fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Alessia blinked, surprised by the sudden change in tone. “Really? You’ll take care of it?”

“Of course,” Y/N replied, shaking her head, her voice calming. “You don’t need the added stress. We’ll make sure your fine is covered. You can count on me.”

Y/N then glared back at the others. “But for everyone else? You’d better pay up. You’ve all been warned.”

Leah gave her a pointed look as Y/N turned her attention to the rest of the group. “If anyone else is late, there’s no excuse. I mean it. We’re not running a daycare here.”

The session went on, but Y/N couldn’t help but notice how the other players seemed to keep a little distance from her. They knew Y/N meant business, and with her new fine system, she wasn’t about to let anyone get away with being tardy.

The next few days passed, and the fines kept racking up. By the end of the week, Y/N had nearly filled a small notebook with the fines from late arrivals, most of which had come from the usual suspects: Katie, Beth, and a few others who just didn’t seem to care. But when Alessia was late yet again, Y/N was quick to brush it off.

“Alessia, don’t stress. I’ve got this,” she’d say, her voice soft and reassuring, even as she filled in the fine for her late arrival.

The others watched this dynamic unfold. The fines were getting hefty—very hefty—but every time Alessia was late, Y/N would simply wave it off and mutter that it was okay. They all found it strange, but there was something about the way Y/N spoke to Alessia that made her seem… untouchable, in a way.

By the end of the month, Y/N had paid off all of Alessia’s fines, covering the hundreds of euros in late fees. Every time she brought it up, Alessia would try to refuse.

“You really don’t need to do that, Y/N,” Alessia said, a hint of guilt in her voice.

“I’ve got it covered,” Y/N replied with a smile, brushing off Alessia’s concern. “It’s not a big deal.”

But even as she said it, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder why she was doing it. Why did she always soften when it came to Alessia? Why was she willing to put up with the fines when everyone else had to pay up without a second thought?

One evening, as they sat together after training, Y/N gave Alessia a sideways glance. “You know, if you just stopped being late, I wouldn’t have to pay these fines for you.”

Alessia looked at her with a half-smirk. “Maybe I’m just testing how far you’ll go.”

Y/N chuckled softly, rolling her eyes. “Well, consider this the last time, okay? I’m not made of money, and I’m not paying your fines forever.”

Alessia laughed, leaning in close. “I know. But I appreciate it, Y/N. More than you know.”

Y/N just smiled, knowing full well that no matter how many fines Alessia racked up, she’d always be the one to take care of it. She didn’t mind. Not when it was Alessia.

It was one of those days where the team was a little too playful for their own good, and Katie had a mischievous gleam in her eye. She leaned in towards Alessia, a sly grin creeping across her face as she whispered her idea.

“Why don't you come in an hour late to training? You know, just to test if Y/N will actually follow through with paying your fine,” Katie suggested, practically vibrating with excitement.

Alessia raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious? You really think she’d pay a £200 fine?”

Katie’s grin only grew wider. “Y/N loves you. She’s a softie for you, trust me. She’ll pay without batting an eye.”

Alessia hesitated, but then the thought of seeing how far Y/N would go for her made her heart flutter. “Alright, fine. But if she gets mad, I’m blaming you.”

Katie winked. “Deal.”

The next day, as the team finished their warm-ups and got into their drills, Alessia sneaked in, only to join the sprints, breathless and looking sheepish as she entered the pitch.

Y/N, who had been keeping track of everyone’s arrival times as usual, immediately shot her a glare. “Alessia, you’re late,” she said, arms crossed and voice stern.

The team watched with baited breath, knowing full well that this was going to be interesting. Y/N pulled out her notebook, jotting down the fine.

“1 hour late, that’s £200,” she said, her voice sharp as she turned to the rest of the team. “You all know the rules. Late is late.”

Alessia bit her lip, trying to keep a straight face as she watched Y/N turn back to her, ready to pay the fine. Without a single word of complaint, Y/N pulled out her wallet, counted out the money, and handed it to the coach.

“Here you go,” Y/N said, her voice oddly calm.

Katie couldn’t contain her smirk. “Wow, I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

Y/N barely even looked at Katie. She turned back to Alessia, her face softening. “You don’t need to worry about this,” she said gently. “It’s not your fault. I’ll take care of it.”

Without thinking, Y/N reached forward and cupped Alessia’s cheek, leaning in for a kiss, soft and sweet, making the rest of the team collectively roll their eyes. When they pulled apart, Y/N smiled, her eyes full of affection.

The rest of the team, including Leah, watched in stunned silence, unsure of what to say. Katie, trying to keep a straight face, let out a dramatic gasp. “I can’t believe you actually paid it, Y/N! You’re such a sucker.”

Leah, smirking, chimed in, “Looks like Alessia’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a soft chuckle. “I’m not a sucker. I’m just making sure my girlfriend isn't stressed over something silly like fines.”

Katie raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?"

Alessia leaned in, trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips. “You really didn’t have to do that, you know. I was just testing you…”

Y/N turned to the group, suddenly serious. “You shouldn’t have pressured poor Alessia into that,” she said, her voice taking on a more reprimanding tone. “If you all have issues, you come to me. We don’t put her in situations like that. You’ve all got to start acting your age. We’re supposed to be grown, not schoolkids that mess with each other for fun.”

The rest of the team exchanged glances, bored for Y/N's thousandth lecture, and nodded in acknowledgment.

Leah nudged Katie, both of them smirking. “I think Y/N’s getting soft,” Leah teased. “Guess the only one who can make her pay £2000 without a fight is Alessia.”

Katie laughed. “I’m just amazed. She didn’t even hesitate! It’s like she has a weakness for her. She's like kryptonite”

Y/N gave them a mock glare, but her voice had a playful edge. “Alright, alright, I get it. You two are clearly jealous because I didn’t pay your fines.”

Katie threw her hands up in defeat. “I mean, I would have asked, but I’m pretty sure you’re whipped for Alessia.”

Leah chuckled. “I think she just wants to see if she can get away with being that spoiled.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, turning back to Alessia, who was clearly enjoying the teasing. She gave her a smile, though. “You’re lucky you’re cute. And you know I’d do anything for you.”

Alessia grinned, her heart swelling with affection. “I know. I won’t make a habit of it. I swear.”

Y/N chuckled softly, her protective nature not fully letting go, but a warmth in her chest that reminded her just how much she cared for Alessia.

The rest of the team couldn’t help but laugh at the playful dynamic between the two, and even though they were teasing Y/N, there was a sense of warmth in the air. It was clear they were a team in more ways than one. Even if some of them had to be teased a little for their soft moments, they all knew Y/N had their backs—just as much as she had Alessia’s.

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The End

#offside story #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #woso soccer #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo #arsenal wfc #leah williamson #katie mccabe #arsenal women #awfc

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yeyinde · 9 months ago

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Neil's recent pics are having such a terrible influence on me because i can't stop thinking about situations.

specifically about going hiking/camping deep in the wilderness to escape the city and the stress of it all back home. but you're underprepared for the reality of the backcountry, and there's definitely Something Out There. hunting you, stalking you. chasing you. you run from it, and get hurt. all alone in the wilderness that everyone warned you was too far, and too remote for rescue. but lucky you. an unkempt Scottish man in the woods comes to help. and Johnny is so sweet, so eager, and has everything he needs to take care of you at his home, don't you worry. he def has your best interests at heart when he leads you to this rural cabin on uncharted land. completely cut off from everything you've ever known. including rescue.

but he's for sure gonna let you go once the snow melts and your injuries heal. just ignore the part where he keeps calling you his wife, and talking about forever.

#i recently got into myths of the Appalachia which are honestly pretty similar to some of our algonquin mythos i heard growing up #and one is about mountain men kidnapping women (but its always skewed as kinda this love story??)#and this is def very influenced by that #soap x reader #cod #call of duty

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endlessdreamerxoxo · 1 year ago

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If there's a chance to ship a woman of color with a beloved & gatekept male lead because there's amazing chemistry between the two, I'm gonna ship it... even if everyone hates me.

#i said what i needed to say #women of color are just as desirable #is this a little bias? yes #same thing goes for interracial relationships w/o a white character #gwen x arthur #carmy x sydney #sydcarmy #namor x shuri #bonnie x damon #bamon #namori #drukkari #poc love stories need to be celebrated #woc need to be loved #why are they always the platonic friend #sarah x bucky #fleur de louve #sarahbucky #oshamir

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devaicons · 8 months ago

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deva cassel gifs

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upon-a-starry-night · 7 months ago

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Number Neighbors Pt.31

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

Her eyes flash from concern to awe before she seems to realize how many eyes are focused on the two of you. Her face quickly settles back into its neutral state and you’d probably be a little offended if you weren’t also acutely aware of just how many people were watching you. Still, it didn’t stop you from staring at her like she wasn’t real.

Sure, you wanted to see her as soon as possible but you hadn’t been expecting to see her today. Unlike her, you were unable to hide the awe from your face and you swear her lips quirked up into a quick smirk at your expression but it’s gone before you can focus on it.

You don’t know if it’s from the crowd or her but your heart is pounding a million beats per minute and your face feels a million degrees hotter.

The people around you murmur with questions and the few reporters that were there have already snapped a hundred pictures that you’re sure they’re going to spin into nonsensical stories. Both you and Nat seem to get overwhelmed at the amount of eyes on you two, especially for a moment that was supposed to be so intimate.

You imagined this going a lot differently.

The suited man that grabbed you is one of many and you realize they were there protecting Nat. You almost snort at the idea but realization dawns on you; The important meeting at the courthouse. Nat was here to fight her case for the Avengers. You hadn’t had the chance to check for updates when you got home.

Before you can dwell too much on the outcome of the case, a gentle grip is guiding your body and you look down to see Nat’s hand around your wrist. Her skin was warm against yours. It makes you wonder if she was nervous at court. Most people would laugh at the idea but the more you’ve gotten to know her the more you can recognize what’s real confidence and what’s not. Even someone like Nat had her moments.

She leads you to a black SUV as more cameras flash and you realize it’s the same SUV that was tailing you earlier. It looks similar to the ones that followed you before your trip but when Nat opens the door to the car for you those thoughts are replaced with confusion.

She wanted you to go with her? Surely this was against protocol or something? Either way, none of the men in suits make a move to stop you and you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to finally be with Natasha now that you knew who she was.

Any initial hesitation fades with one look in Nat’s reassuring eyes and you’re sliding into the backseat with the certainty that Nat would protect you no matter what. If not because she knew you, then because she was a hero for the public and it was her job to do so.

She slides into the backseat after you and exchanges a few words with a guy in the driver's seat apparently named ‘Happy’ and then you’re off to your destination.

The car ride is silent for a while, neither of you knowing how to start the conversation, and you’re trying not to gawk at her despite the urge to take her in after not seeing her for so long. Not to mention you’re seeing her in an entirely different light.

“It’s good to see you again” Her tone is oddly formal and when you gather the courage to look her in the eyes she seems more reserved than before. You’re confused and a little hurt, having assumed that once you two had more privacy she would be more open but it’s then that you realize she doesn’t know you know.

She’s talking to you as if you’re still the Y/n she met at the party. The oblivious, stupid, blind Y/n. She was holding herself back from showing more emotion than would be normal for you two.

There are so many things you want to say. Things you want her to say. You want to tell her that you know who she is in a coherent and obvious way but all that comes out of your mouth is-

“Nat?” You’re not asking for the Natasha Romanoff in front of you. You’re asking for your Nat. Asking for her to drop the facade and show you the person who’d become your best friend after a lot of begging and breaking down her carefully constructed walls.

She raises her eyebrows in a silent question but doesn’t catch on.

“Y/n.” You hadn’t had the chance to appreciate the way she said your name before but now it was everything. The slight rasp at the end of her voice, the way her lips moved, the slight tilt to her head as she studies you. You were going to spend every second you had with her soaking her in to the fullest.

Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. For some reason, your brain refuses to cooperate with your mouth and finally spit out a confession. A part of you resists the urge to just pull her in for a kiss that would say so much more than words ever could but consent is important and you’re not even sure if she likes you back.

Nat seems to find humor in your pout, a small smile on her face as she reaches out to soothe the space between your brows. Only after the action does she seem to realize that’s not typical acquaintance behavior. She moves to retract her hand but you catch her wrist.

Her hands were so warm. Or maybe that was you. You couldn’t tell much anymore aside from the tingling where her fingers touched.

Even if she didn’t like you back. Even if all you had with her was this car ride, you were so happy you had gotten to know the real her. So happy to have fallen in love with her. You hope you were able to be a place of solace for her, and that she’s felt at least a quarter of the happiness and reprieve that she gave you.

Tentatively, you bring her hand to cup your cheek, relishing in the sparks that dance along your face at her touch. You can practically hear the somersaults your heart is doing in your chest.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until Nat’s playful smile shifts into concern once again.

“Y/n-” You don’t even give her the chance to finish, a wet laugh escaping your lips at the obscurity of your situation.

After all the pain and trouble and confusion you finally had her in your arms.

“Nat.” You say through a teary smile and you feel a bit bad that you’re getting her hand wet but you’re so overwhelmed that you can’t bring yourself to let go of her.

You have to wonder if you looked that same way when you realized who Nat was. The dots slowly connect behind her eyes before they light up with hopeful relief. Not to flatter yourself but you’re pretty sure her pupils dilate.

Despite her physically positive reaction, doubt must cloud her mind immediately because she retracts her hand from your face and subconsciously leans away from you.

Now it’s your turn to be concerned, unsure of how to stop the lies swirling in her head. Your brain finally decides to catch up to you in time to speak but instead, a laugh escapes and you clamp a hand over your mouth in surprise

“ Sorry!” it’s a half-assed apology and you both know it “I just can’t believe how stupid I was. I mean you were trying to tell me at that party and I was completely clueless!” You can’t help but laugh at your obliviousness and soon enough Nat cracks a small smile.

The serotonin that courses through your body is immediate and you have a feeling getting Nat to smile could become dangerously addictive. She seems to relax a little as she comes to the same realization you did. You’re not someone scary or intimidating or unfamiliar, you’re just you. The you Nat could vent to and laugh with. Her Y/n.

“In my defense, you totally could have told me who you were at that party!” You argue and she shakes her head, the smile still not leaving her face.

“I didn’t know if you’d believe me or not” It’s a valid excuse for anyone else, but for you it’s ridiculous and you have a feeling there’s more to it that she’s not ready to admit.

“I’d always believe you. '' Both of you know how true that statement is, and the playful atmosphere is dampened as the sentence reminds you of your month-long separation. It felt so natural to be with her that you forgot you hadn't spoken to her in a month. She seems to be thinking of the same thing as you as her smile slowly drops from her face once again.

The silence eats at you and you don’t know whether to apologize or just change the subject but before you can speak Nat beats you to it.

“I’m sorry” You go to tell her she doesn’t have to apologize but she fixes you with a look that shuts you up “I’m sorry, Y/n. I could’ve explained my situation to you better or called. I was just so lost for the first time in a while and I didn’t know how to tell you” You nod in understanding and let her continue “And there was no time for anything, I mean- I didn’t even get to say goodbye to some people-”

Sensing how emotional and terrifying this experience must have been for her, you place your hand over hers in a silent gesture of comfort and she shifts until your fingers are intertwined. You do your best to hide your blush but make no move to free your hand.

“I know you have every right to be mad at me but I hope you can hear me out”

You give her a reassuring smile. You’re surprised she would think you wouldn’t be willing to hear her out but you don’t dwell on it.

“Nat, I’m not mad- well not anymore at least. Of course I’ll hear you out, I’m not the type of person to be that petty.” She seems hesitant to accept the fact that you got over your anger a long time ago but she must read the sincerity in your body language because she smiles again and begins explaining the details of what went down a month ago.

Pt.32

A/n: why am I crying?~Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723 @sylencr @saraaahsstuff @autorasexy @gay4hotmilfs @tofu9162 @dyslexic-dreamer @graniairish @colettehope @kosmichs1 @nmhlver @natblidaclexa @skittlebum @dorabledewdroop @nothanksbye07 @mrsrushman @midastouch013 @thalia-is-not-ok @tessalah @annab3113 @officialnighttime @taliiiaasteria @bgwlsmahf25 @chibilauren @natashasgirlll @nmhlver @strange-night-owl @obsessedwjill @autorasexy @kissesfornat

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lathalea · 4 months ago

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Entangled 4/10

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x Dwarf OFC (The Hobbit) Rating: G (subject to change) Warnings: ANGST Summary: Arranged marriages are common among the dwarven nobility. After reclaiming the Lonely Mountain, the Kingdom Under the Mountain needs to be rebuilt. Thorin agrees to marry a lady from the Blue Mountains, securing a mutually beneficial alliance with the Broadbeam Dwarves. Lady Mista is said to be a practical and hard-working dwarf-woman, willing to give him an heir who would secure the line of succession. A decent queen material, his advisors say. If only Thorin could let go of his past… You can find this fic on AO3 (search for lathalea).

A/N: First of all, sorry it took me so long to update this story but your comments and messages kept me going! TRSB and Real Life™️ hit me hard, but I haven't forgotten about this story. In fact, I have a treat for you: an XXL-sized chapter as a thank you for your patience 💙 Special thanks to @legolasbadass and @absentmindeduniverse for your help. You are amazing and you made this chapter so much better than it originally was! 🤩🙏💙 -*-*-*- KHUZDUL: ‘Urdêk - ereborean variant of Lonely Mountain (referring to the Halls within the mountain) Nadad - brother Nan’ith - little/young sister Zabdûna - the Queen Zabdûna undu ‘Urd - Queen Under the Mountain Khagal'abbad - Ered Luin, the Blue Mountains Azsâlul'abad - the Lonely Mountain (both the mountain and the dwarven kingdom known among Elves and Men as Erebor) Tumunzahar - an ancient dwarven city in the Blue Mountains rebuilt by the Broadbeams in this story. The Elves call it “Nogrod”. Gabilgathol - an ancient dwarven city in the Blue Mountains rebuilt by the Firebeards in this story. The Elves call it “Belegost”. Thorinuldûm - Thorin’s Halls, the settlement of the refugees from the Lonely Mountain in the Blue Mountains Iglishmêk - the sign language widely used by all the dwarves -*-*-*-

✨ Chapter list: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4... ✨ Entangled Masterlist

Thorin opened his eyes with a gasp. That cursed dream again. Those eyes…

Several deep breaths helped to banish the haunting afterimages from his mind for good. Deep inside the Mountain — much deeper than the Royal Chambers — the mine bell struck eleven times. One hour before noon. It was later than he expected.

Thorin’s head was pounding, and the bitter aftertaste of rowanberry brandy in his mouth made him yearn for a mug of water. Slowly, he rose, noticing that he was not in his bed but in his armchair, still wearing some of yesterday's clothes. His finely embroidered undershirt and similarly adorned trousers — now crumpled. Parts of his wedding attire. His wedding.

He truly needed a drink.

The only thing he found in his chamber was an empty brandy bottle that lay forgotten on the floor. For a moment, Thorin wanted to ring for a servant, irritated at the fact that he slept so long — and his usual breakfast tray was nowhere to be seen. Had they overslept in the kitchens as well? What could have been so important that… Of course. His wedding.

He grunted. There was not going to be any breakfast tray and no servants. Not until he rang for them, at least. No one would disturb him in the morning after his wedding night. Frowning, Thorin managed to recall that a celebratory dinner was scheduled later that day — not only for the people of ‘Urdêk, but also for the whole royal family and the family of the bride. His wife.

Thorin ran a hand down his face. He was a married Dwarf now. A husband. Years and years ago, in another lifetime, that thought would have made him enormously proud — and happy. And yet, on this very morning, the only thing he felt was that bitter taste in his mouth — and shame; his foolish dreams of youth long forgotten. The weight of a new braid in his hair, the marriage braid, was not a symbol of perfect, eternal love he had foolishly envisioned as a youth. This braid only denoted the contract between the two dwarven houses: the Longbeards and the Broadbeams.

A memory from the previous day appeared in his mind: pale, small, pale fingers nervously sliding through his hair, braiding a pattern that was unfamiliar to him. The personal pattern of the lady who now occupied the adjacent bedchamber — Lady Mista. The woman he had barely met and knew nothing of. His wife.

He should have felt something about this image, anything — sadness or perhaps the satisfaction of yet another duty he fulfilled as the King; hope or disenchantment. There was nothing — only a gaping hole deep inside him where his feelings should be. He stared with disappointment at the empty brandy bottle in his hand, and placed it on the table beside him with a clank.

Perhaps everything was as it should be. His was an arranged marriage, after all. The Kingdom Under the Mountain needed an heir to the throne. The future and prosperity of the realm depended on it. It was Thorin’s duty to fulfil, and time was of the essence. As the ancient scriptures stated, only the firstborn son of the firstborn son — of the current king — had the right to the throne of this realm. The Book of Law emphasised that it had to be the direct descendant of Durin — as the line remained unbroken since the beginning of time. If the direct line was to be lost, the next in line was the second son and his progeny. Thorin closed his eyes and Frerin’s kindred face appeared before him — and quickly disappeared. That future perished more than one hundred and forty years ago beneath the East Gate of Khazad-dûm before it even had a chance to come to fruition. As for the other possibilities… they were just as painfully non-existent.

“Is there truly no legal way to name Fili or Kili as my heir apparent, Master Maldur?” Thorin crumpled a piece of parchment in his hand.

“I am afraid not, Sire.” The elderly scholar adjusted the emerald pince-nez on his nose. “They are both the sons of a daughter of Durin.”“Besides, since Fili is married to Lady Fridvi of the Firebeards. According to the treaty between our houses, their firstborn child will rule in the Blue Mountains,” added Balin with an apologetic smile.

“Aye. Even if it’s a daughter,” Thorin said and added, as if to himself, “I have always thought the Firebeards to be more sensible when it came to the laws of succession.”“Yes, well, Your Majesty…” Master Maldur cleared his throat in ill-disguised disapproval, shuffling some parchments in front of him. “The Longbeard laws, however, clearly state that if no male heir is procured by the current king before his 200th birthday, the next Dwarf in line — albeit one who is not a direct descendant of Durin — would be the grandson of your Grandfather’s brother, Grór, the firstborn son of his firstborn son, Nain, your…”

“I do know the lineage of my cousin, Dain Ironfoot, quite well, thank you,” Thorin remarked curtly. Genealogy, lineages, and recounting endless familial connections always made him irritable.

“And hypothetically speaking, if your revered cousin was not there to claim the crown of the Kingdom Under the Mountain, may Mahal give him long life,” Maldur spoke in his hoarse voice that made Thorin think of crumbling stones, “the next in line would be, of course, Lord Balin, the firstborn son of Fundin, the firstborn son of Farin, who, in turn, was the firstborn…”

“Thank you, Master Maldur.” Thorin nodded to him, having heard enough, and then turned to the firstborn son of Fundin. “Balin, how would you feel about becoming the next king?”

“I would rather not. Unless you and Dain plan to drink your way to the Halls of Awaiting together anytime soon?” Balin chuckled, shaking his head. “I have other plans, laddie, and besides, I’m not getting any younger.”

“And yet your wit is as sharp as it was one hundred years ago,” Thorin offered him a half-smile.

“Your Majesty, may I take this opportunity to point out how crucial it is that a direct descendant of Durin sits on the throne of Azsâlul'abad?” The frown on Master Maldur’s forehead deepened. “Additionally, the unfortunate discord between Your Majesty’s Grandfather and his brother, Grór, is vividly remembered by your subjects. Sadly, because of this, Lord Dain is quite an unpopular personage here. Not a favourable position to be in for a prospective ruler. If such an event were to happen, of course.”

“Of course.” Thorin sighed. “Any more ideas, Balin? Lord Bori?”

Balin slowly shook his head.

“May I remind you, Your Majesty, that we have received several offers of alliance through marriage?” said the white-haired chancellor, who — until that very moment — remained silent. Lord Bori always picked the perfect moment to strike.“Very well.” Thorin stood up, signalling that the meeting was adjourned. “It seems that we have run out of heirs. Balin, would you be so kind as to discuss the matter with my sister? I entrust you both with choosing a suitable royal consort for the King Under the Mountain.”

A thud brought him out of his reverie. It came from the adjacent bedchamber. Thorin heard two distinct voices, although he could not quite make out the words. It must have been Lady Mista discussing something with her maid, he suspected. He clearly recognized the soft lilt of his spouse’s voice, so characteristic among the Broadbeams. Perhaps she was readying herself for the day, as he should as well. Thorin was about to ring for his servant when a resonant voice reached his ears despite the thick door between their rooms.

“Why doesn't it surprise me, Mista?!” The voice was definitely feminine. “You had one job…” “Let me explain…” That was Lady Mista speaking. Thorin was able to recognize only one or two words.

“There is nothing to explain!” The first voice returned. “It was your wedding night, for Mahal’s sake! Couldn’t you have made an effort? Just look at yourself! For once in your life…”

“Mother, you don’t understand, I…” Lady Mista’s words trailed off. She sounded tense.

The pounding in Thorin’s head intensified. He glared at the door.

“Have you forgotten how hard your father and your uncle worked to achieve this?! Is that how you repay your family, Mista? By ruining everything? On the very first night?”

Without thinking, Thorin placed his hand on the door handle and pressed. He had heard enough.

“What is the meaning of this?!” he demanded.

In the silence that filled the room, just after he stepped into Lady Mista’s bedchamber, he saw Lady Mista sitting in her bed. Her face was as pale as the bed linen, her eyes wide, and her quilt pulled up to her chin. She looked at him as if she wanted to disappear underneath it. With her hair tousled and her slightly skewed spectacles, she looked more like a defenceless young maid than an adult Dwarf-woman.

Next to her bed stood a corpulent red-haired matron in a fashionable green-and-gold gown, her hair immaculately dressed, her neck and wrists adorned with elegant jewellery, her fisted hands resting against her hips.

“Your Majesty.” The matron executed a customary curtsy, offering him a sweet but artificial smile. “What an honour to see you in my daughter’s bedchamber. I believe…” “Lady Milva.” He gave her a curt nod of recognition and graced her with a cold stare. “You will have to forgive me, madam, but I do not intend to reciprocate. I, for one, cannot understand why you would choose this particular time to visit Her Majesty the Queen.”

“Ah, but Your Majesty would surely understand that I wanted to see to my daughter’s comfort on the very first day of her rule.” Her smile widened.

“Do you wish to imply that I am incapable of such a feat, madam?” Thorin hissed.

“Oh no, Your Majesty, not at all!” The matron attempted a giggle. “On the contrary, I believe it is my daughter who failed to see to your comfort.”

Thorin’s head seemed to be pounding even more than before.

“Mother, please…” He heard Lady Mista’s strained voice behind him.

“Enough, Mista, you should be apologising to His Majesty for disappointing him!” Lady Milva turned to her daughter and Thorin decided that he had heard enough.

“My lady, you are disturbing me and my spouse in our private chambers. Only because you are my wedded wife’s mother, My Lady, I am going to ask you kindly.” Thorin hissed. “Leave now.”

Silence filled the chamber for several heartbeats. Lady Milva’s gaze moved between her daughter and Thorin before she spoke again.

“Very well, Your Majesty,” she replied stiffly, abandoning her insincere manner. “Mista, I will return later, to prepare you for dinner.”

“Is that what you wish, My Lady?” Thorin turned to Mista.

“I… Thank you, Mother,” Lady Mista’s words were a mere whisper as she clutched the quilt, “but I think I will manage on my own this time.”

Her mother stood there for a moment longer, her brow furrowed, and then she replied, “If that is what you wish.”

She made another curtsy to Thorin, and then, in a swift flurry of her opulent gown, she stormed out of the bedchamber.

“Forgive me, My Lord, have we woken you up?” The bedclothes rustled, making Thorin gaze at Lady Mista — the woman he wed yesterday. As she left the bed, he caught a glimpse of her bare feet, so much smaller than his, and so dainty. Her sleeping gown flowed elegantly down her body, hugging her figure and revealing patches of smooth skin that only a husband was allowed to see. Quickly, he looked away. He did not feel like one.

“I was already awake,” he offered, glancing around the chamber. “Have you broken your fast yet, My Lady?”

“No, My Lord,” she replied. “I’m afraid I lost track of time. I was reading.”

Thorin followed her gaze to the thick tome that lay open on the bed. It looked like something from the Royal Library of Erebor, but he did not recognize the cover.

“I’ll ring for breakfast for you then. You must be famished,” he offered.

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” Lady Mista replied, her words barely audible, like the chirping of a frightened little bird. “Would you… would you like to join me?”

Thorin shook his head decidedly.

“I am expected elsewhere. The meeting of the Guildmasters is going to be held quite soon,” he was amazed at how easily this half-truth slipped out of his mouth. That meeting was on his general agenda, but no one expected him to join it, not so soon after his wedding.

“Oh, I see,” Lady Mista’s voice wavered, but she continued after a pause. “In that case, allow me, My Lord, to thank you for your… intervention. My Mother can be tempestuous at times, but she means well.”

“Forgive me, My Lady, but her behaviour was out of place,” he said, attempting to ignore the insistent pounding in his head. “You are not only her daughter but — first and foremost — the Queen. No one is allowed to treat you so, no matter the circumstances. No one. Not even her.”

Thorin took a deep breath in order to rein in his temper. He was abrupt, his words far from courteous, but his patience was wearing thin. The last thing he was willing to endure was a lady on the verge of tears, bullied by her own kin. A half-forgotten memory surfaced in his mind: those sobs, that lavish but abhorred wedding dress, and his sister’s words: “You can’t help it, nadad. This is women’s lot in life.”

This time, unlike that other time, Thorin could help it — and so he did. That was the least he was able to do for this terrified woman. His wife.

He did not find the strength to look into her face once more and see those glossed-over eyes and those trembling lips. Instead, he excused himself under the pretence of procuring breakfast and left her bedchamber.

He found his reward in the form of a full jug of water in the adjacent parlour. Quenching his thirst, he rang for a servant. Katla, Lady Mista’s new maid, arrived soon after. She was one of the maids who worked for their family when they lived in the Blue Mountains. Now, however, Dis decided that Katla was exactly the person Lady Mista would need. The girl was unusually agitated, and as soon as Thorin asked about Lady Milva’s presence in the Queen’s bedchamber, her countenance wavered.

“Forgive me, m’lord,” she curtseyed, her gaze lowered reverently. “I had no means to stop Her Ladyship, I asked her not to disturb Your Majesties, but she said that she was the Queen’s mother and the Queen would dismiss me right away if Her Ladyship was not allowed to enter, and I thought…”

“Thank you, Katla, I understand,” he said. “You are not going to be dismissed. However, Her Majesty does not need such disturbances. Should someone attempt to storm into Her Majesty’s private chambers without her consent again, do not hesitate to call the guards.”

“Of course, m’lord,” Katla nodded stiffly. “And… Thank you. For not dismissing me.”

“My Mother, the Dowager Queen, always spoke highly of you. Now, I need you to take care of the new Queen in a similar manner. This is her new home, and we need to make her feel like it. Can I rely on you?”

“Always, m’lord.” A hopeful smile appeared on her face. “Does the Queen need anything now, m’lord?”

“She is requesting a hearty breakfast,” he ordered.

“I’ll be right back with her tray! Shall I bring one for you as well, m’lord?”

“No, thank you. I have matters to attend to.”

With these words, Thorin directed his steps to the Royal Baths. Hot water and steam were exactly what he needed at that very moment. A sizable pile of documents waited for him on his desk, but he needed to clear his head first.

***

“Here you are, nadad! I’ve been looking all over for you!” Dis’ voice made him raise his gaze from a parchment.

“Where else should I be?” Thorin tilted his head, observing his sister as she approached his desk. There was only a handful of braids in her modest hairdo — her wavy strands as dark as his own — and she wore a simple day dress. Yet, Dis looked more elegant than many other ladies in their finest gowns. She inherited her noble bearing and facial features from their paternal grandmother, after all.

“Where should you be? Let me see…” she tapped her mouth with her index finger and then asked innocently. “Perhaps with your wife?”

Thorin cursed inwardly. Dis inherited their grandmother’s wit, too.

“If only those trade licences could somehow sign themselves…” he grunted.

“And while you are drowning in parchments, your newly-wed wife is halfway through the second volume of The Golden Age of Azsâlul'abad,” she grunted back.

“The second volume?” Thorin’s eyebrow rose as he recalled the size of that monstrous twelve-volume work. He never managed to make it past the first one.

“Yes. Apparently, Mista finished the first one during lunch. Which she ate alone.” Dis folded her arms on her chest. It had never been a good sign when Grandmother Birgit folded her arms like that.

“I ate my lunch alone as well.” He pointed at a plate with a forgotten piece of dark bread left, half-covered by a couple of documents.

“On the first day of your marriage,” Dis retorted.

“These licences are vital for…”

“Thorin…” His sister rolled her eyes.

“Dis…” He sighed. “You know what I mean.”

“Some things need time,” he heard himself say.

“I know, Thorin,” Dis stepped to him, placing her hand on his forearm. “Of all the people in the world… I know.”

“At least you knew Vili before your wedding,” Thorin put his quill aside.

“Vaguely. While you managed to spend a whole evening with Mista in Tumunzahar.”

“Which apparently happened a long time ago — and of which I remember nothing.” He admitted with a frown and then drummed his fingers on the desk. “Nan’ith, I may have made an utter fool of myself yesterday.”

Dis sat heavily on a chair beside him, “Let me hear it.”

“Lady Mista was convinced that I remembered meeting her at a feast. Apparently, we danced and talked, and she expected me to…” He sighed. “I don’t know. The problem is that instead of playing along with it, I told her that I did not remember it at all.”

“Nadad, I have always admired your disarming honesty, but…” Dis paused and then grinned. “Well, it looks like you have figured it out yourself. You are an utter fool.”

When she elbowed him, as if they were smooth-cheeked youths again, Thorin simply had to elbow her back.

“Thank you, dearest sister. I know I could count on you.” He let out a lukewarm chuckle.

“How did she take it? Is that why you are hiding in here?” Thorin shook his head, “Lady Mista did not seem offended. I’d say she was perhaps… surprised? Disappointed?”

“I would be too if my future husband first sent me a letter in which he spoke fondly of our meeting years ago and then admitted to not remembering it at all,” Dis waved her hand in despair.

“A letter?” Thorin’s frown deepened.

“The letter. Don’t tell me you haven’t read it.” A frown appeared on her face as well. “Balin and I spent half a day composing it before it was sent along with the marriage contract.”

“For which I am very thankful. I have no head for this sort of letters, as you know.” “That was precisely why you were supposed to read it before it was sealed, Thorin.” She rolled her eyes.

“I knew I could trust you with its contents. Dis, we were rebuilding the Forges at that time! I barely had time to eat or sleep; that letter was hardly on top of my agenda.”

His sister let out a long sigh.

“It is not me you should explain yourself to. What happened, happened. Tell me, do you truly not remember anything from that meeting?”

“This was one of many feasts I was obligated to appear at. Amicable relations with our allies, and all that,” he offered.

“We were there together, you know.”

“Were we?” Thorin searched his memory. To no avail. All those feasts seemed like a blur in his mind.

“Balin was there, too. And Dwalin, I think.” Dis added. “And Mother. She wore that emerald green gown.”

He tried once more. Still nothing.

“There was lots of food, lots of political scheming… Oh, and there were quite a few mothers flaunting their offspring at me and you. Mostly at you, the Crown Prince,” she snickered.

“You have just described most of the feasts I have attended in the past.” He ran a hand over his face. “Every time I felt like game during hunting season. Did I really spend the whole evening with Lady Mista?”

“Quite a bit of it.” Dis nodded. “You were seated next to a matron who insisted on making you dance with each of her daughters — I think she had two or three of them — and then you did what you usually used to do. You disappeared. When you returned, Mista was with you already, and then you danced. That matron, together with her cronies, was of course appalled, because you never even looked at anyone else. And Mista was not even formally out, she was maybe a few years over half battle-age at that time!”

“It seems that I scandalised the matrons of Tumunzahar and nearly robbed a cradle. What an achievement. And I cannot even remember it.” Thorin smiled wryly, although an image or two flickered before his eyes. A handkerchief with his monogram in a lithe hand. Grey-brown hair adorned with pearls.

“At least no one bothered you afterwards,” she put her hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “Now, I hope you find a way to make amends with your wife, nadad.”

Thorin gave her a nod, “You and me both. I simply do not have the slightest idea how to talk to her. I feel as if she is afraid of me.”

“We both know that you are not the greatest charmer when it comes to the matters of the heart,” she offered him a smirk. “And neither am I. I can only tell you what Mother told me once. Marriage is like the endless forging of a sword. If you want to make a great blade, you have to keep the fire going, and work the metal every single day. Draw it, shape it, and then keep on tempering it so that it never breaks.”

“She knew her way around the forge,” Thorin admitted fondly. He liked to think that he inherited his bladesmithing skills from their Mother.

“She knew how to deal with Father, too. I took her words to heart, and it worked for me — for us. Vili and me…” Dis cleared her throat. “We had nothing in common — or so I thought at first.”

A sad smile softened her features, and Thorin covered her hand with his.

“He was even younger than me,” she continued, “so rowdy and boisterous, and talked only of mountain goat races and throwing knives. Remember how terrified I was when I had to braid his hair?”

“You? Terrified? You were as decorous as Grandma Birgit would,” he said.

“That was because I knew Grandma Birgit would have been appalled if I fainted halfway through the ceremony. You cannot believe how mortified I was before the wedding night!” His sister chuckled.

“You asked me for two pints of the strongest malt beer we had,” Thorin offered lightly. It was good to see her smile.

“I only wanted to take the edge off things!” Dis grinned. “How was I supposed to know you spiked it with Dwalin’s horrible brandy?”

“You weren't. And you and Vili were supposed to drink them together. How should I know he would down them both at once?” He shrugged as if he had not seen it coming.

“I think I was the first bride in the history of Arda who spent her wedding night listening to her new husband’s loud snores.”

“You should talk with Bombur’s Ronja,” he quipped.

“Nadad! I shall not discuss their wedding night with her!” Dis feigned outrage only to burst out in laughter.

“Be glad that you did not hear his snores during the Quest. Every. Single. Night. He even made us think a storm was coming! And once, in the Misties…” It was so easy to fall back on the anecdotes from the past, and Thorin was awarded with another bout of laughter. Since Dis arrived back to the Mountain — their home — for the first time in years, it was easy to make her smile. There was a new spark in her eyes too, one that Thorin saw in countless eyes these days. A glint of hope for their reclaimed homeland they were rebuilding — and for their future. Was the same glint present in Lady Mista’s eyes last night? He could not say.

“Thank you”, Dis startled him, pecking him on his cheek.

“For what?” He met her eyes.

“For many things… like not terrifying your bride too much.”

Thorin swallowed, “What do you mean?”

“You know how you can be sometimes.” Dis patted his hand.

“Are you going to tell me once more that I scare others away with my ‘brooding’, or whatever you call it?” He rose from his chair and looked down at her.

“Not at all! Brooding is not as loud as snoring.” Tilting her head up, she winked at him. “Do you know you sometimes come off as quite intimidating?”

“I have never heard of such a notion,” Thorin let his lip curl up. “Especially from you.”

“What about that agreement you managed to hammer out last week with those stubborn donkeys, the Guildmasters?” Thorin knew better than to offer a reply.

“I heard your voice all the way to the warehouses! And when the Masters left the council chamber, they were meek as lambs, even the fiery Master Karg!”

“I simply reminded them that the world did not revolve around their coin pouches. Loudly.”

“I am glad you made use of it this morning.”

“You heard about what happened,” Of course. His sister had a knack for knowing things that did not happen in her presence.

“A word or two.” “Lady Mista’s mother needed to be put in her place,” Thorin quickly recounted his confrontation with Lady Milva.

When he finished, Dis pressed her lips in a thin line.

“What a viper,” she huffed. “Now I know why Mista looked so shaken today. But we are in luck. The whole Broadbeam delegation is leaving in a week or so. We will manage.”

“We have managed worse.” He finished the thought, their private saying, one that they used since the vile Smaug ravaged their kingdom. Last time they spoke it happened just before the Quest to reclaim their homeland. Now, both the current circumstances and stakes felt vastly different, and Thorin could not help but wonder — would he manage?

“I must say you did wonders with the Queen’s bedchamber in such a short time.” Thorin admitted in a hasty attempt to change the subject. “It looks quite… comfortable. Especially with that tapestry from Grandmother’s chambers. And to think it survived Smaug almost untouched…”

“Oh, so you did spend some time with Mista after all?” Dis raised an eyebrow, her eyes twinkling. “Were there two pints of malt beer involved or not? Don’t you make that face at me, nadad! This was your wedding night and everyone will jest about it, whether you like it or not!”

Sadly, she was right.

***

Dis’ prophetic words proved true in the evening at the celebratory dinner. It was held in the largest cavern under the Mountain, the Great Hall. It was as tall as several levels of the Dwarven kingdom, making it easy for people to freely join and leave the festivities, catch a glimpse of the royal family or listen to the music while feasting in their local quarters. Thorin remembered that this natural formation in the depths of the Mountain was where all the largest festivities happened when his Grandfather, King Thrór, ruled. He himself did not expect to celebrate his royal wedding in these legendary chambers as well. After all, marriage had not been a part of his plans for the future.

Upon entering the Great Hall, it was difficult not to notice all the lavish adornments he remembered from the day before, countless tables filled anew with various dishes, lanterns and candles that cast their golden glow on the walls, brightening everyone’s faces — and the fact that all the eyes were now set on Thorin and his new royal consort. They were both clad in matching attires made especially for this occasion; every detail, pattern, and jewel on those black, silver, and gold garments was supposed to symbolise the imperishable beauty and opulence of the Kingdom Under the Mountain. Judging by the reactions of his subjects, the newly-wed royal couple made a favourable impression on them.

Casting a sidelong glance at Lady Mista, Thorin expected to see the joyful or perhaps even triumphant smile of a new queen. Instead, he noticed the strained lines of her face, the paleness of her cheeks, and her bespectacled gaze set somewhere above the heads of the guests. Only the crown over her temples softened the solemn impression somewhat and lent her a regal air. Lady Mista’s palm rested stiffly on his forearm as Thorin led her through the chamber towards the royal table. He could feel how stiff her muscles were, as if she was a wooden doll controlled by an invisible puppeteer.

Thorin made an effort not to look at Lady Mista’s kin, who had already gathered at their side of the royal table. After what he experienced with the members of this family so far, it was not at all difficult to infer what face — or rather, faces — that puppeteer bore.

That poor, terrified girl. His wife. The new Queen Under the Mountain.

“Our people are curious about you, My Lady,” he whispered just as they walked onto the stone dais where the royal table was placed.

“Oh?” Quickly, she turned towards him, her eyes wide. “About me?”

“They do not know you yet, and many of them are wondering what they can expect of you, their new Zabdûna,” he murmured, leaning slightly closer to her.

“Of… of course I will do my best to care for them,” she lowered her gaze and a blush darkened her cheeks. Then she added, “There is no Kingdom without its people.”

The last time Thorin heard those words, he was barely a youth, and his days were filled with endless studies and training. One of his Grandfather’s sayings — words of Dagur Sture, an ancient philosopher from Khazad-dûm — spoken in the trembling voice of a Broadbeam lady from the distant Khagal'abbad, the Blue Mountains.

“Indeed,” he said, shaking off the surprise as they both turned towards the guests, an endless sea of faces before them . “Pray, show it to them, My Lady.”

“But how?” Lady Mista blinked, adjusting her spectacles on her nose. “I do not know what to do…”

“Simply greeting them will be enough,” Thorin attempted to say these words with an encouraging smile. “Acknowledge your new subjects.”

Lady Mista nodded slightly and swallowed, lifting her gaze upon the crowd. He felt her right hand tighten on his forearm, but then her left hand rose into the air, and she waved to the gathered crowd. An avalanche of cheers went through the cavern; some of the guests responded to her greeting in turn, their faces brightening.

Thorin chose this moment to greet the gathered Dwarves in the same fashion, enhancing their jubilation even further. All it took was a wave. A simple trick his Grandfather taught him a lifetime ago, but one that never failed.

When he glanced at Lady Mista’s face again, there was a new glint in her eyes and a timid smile on her lips as she took in the enthusiastic response to her gesture.

“They like you already, My Lady,” he whispered, nodding to her in approval and seeing her features finally soften when her lips curled up slightly. A welcome change, he thought. People needed to see their rulers glad, especially on such an occasion. Appearances mattered more than one’s true feelings; he had learned that bitter lesson well.

After the customary welcoming speech — Thorin somehow managed to keep it short — he led Lady Mista to their chairs at the centre of the table, and then the feast began. Soon, he found himself in a lively conversation with Glóin, Dwalin and Lord Taran, Lady Mista’s uncle, discussing the strategy applied in the siege of an Orc stronghold that happened during the Great War. Various pieces of golden tableware turned into numerous units of dwarven troops, a nearby platter with fruit acted as a mountain range, the octagonal brass salt cellar became the stronghold, and leftover pheasant bones served as Orcs.

“What a battle it was! We hadn’t slept for three days in a row!” Glóin announced as the culinary re-enactment of the battle came to an end. “When we were done with the Orc scum, Thorin looked every bit as tired as he looks now after one night with his bride!”

Thorin grunted.

“Aye, he does, but can ye imagine his state after three nights of storming her stronghold?” Dwalin roared with laughter.

Thorin glowered at his friend, who, in response, laughed even harder.

“With such a meek lass like our Mista, he doesn’t have much storming to do!” Lord Taran bellowed, the tattoos on his cheeks stretching in a wide grin.

Thorin clenched his fist.

Dis threw him a meaningful glance from across the table. We will manage. Mahal, give him strength. Casting a fleeting look at Lady Mista, Thorin saw that she was deeply immersed in a conversation with Balin, who at that very moment patted her on her hand.

“May Your Majesty strike a gold vein quickly so we have a new reason to celebrate soon, a naming ceremony!” Lord Tair, the new Queen’s father, raised his goblet, meeting Thorin’s gaze. “May Mahal bless this union with many children!”

Other cups shot into the air, and the toast echoed across the hall, countless eyes set on the royal couple. Thorin gritted his teeth. This was not a purely well-meant wish, not in Tair’s mouth. The Broadbeam lord, who negotiated the marriage contract himself, alluded to its crucial clause: children from this union meant prosperity for both of their houses. On the other hand, no offspring by Thorin’s 200th birthday meant the dissolution of the marriage, the end of the vastly profitable trade agreements for the Broadbeams, and the end of the direct line of Durin for the Longbeards — and Thorin. The stakes were high for both houses.

Decidedly, Thorin grasped his own goblet and returned the gesture. A quick glance to his left told him that Lady Mista followed his lead, her fingers stiffly holding her goblet’s stem. He felt her eyes on him, but he found himself unable to reciprocate her gaze.

Another toast came after the first. This time, it was Dis wishing the newly-wed couple a long and happy marriage. A couple of toasts full of platitudes followed, and when everyone in the Great Hall drank their fill, conversations returned. Thorin’s sister was talking with Lady Mista now; he thought he heard them speak of a library when a sonorous voice reached his ears.

“Such a match happens once in a lifetime, Lord Balin, wouldn’t you say?” Lady Mista’s mother gave the older Dwarf a charming smile.

“As you say, Lady Milva. And it is a prosperous one, too,” Balin nodded with a twinkle in his eye.

“I am truly overjoyed that I had this idea! I told my husband: ‘Remember that winter feast we had in Tumunzahar, love? The one when Prince Thorin — for His Majesty was merely a prince then — danced only with my dear Mista?’ He only had eyes for her that night! So many mothers had fits of jealousy, because he did not even spare a glance for any of their daughters!” Lady Milva chuckled.

“That must have been quite an event,” Balin admitted.

Thorin gritted his teeth, acutely feeling the weight of his crown on his head — and the eyes of his subjects on him. Instead of addressing a few curt words to Lady Mista’s mother, he took a large gulp of wine.

“So it was, Lord Balin, so it was! If you only had been there to see it!” She dabbed an invisible tear from her eye. “They danced, and danced, and afterwards my sweet daughter would sigh, and dream away, and ask if Prince Thorin would attend the next feast! So when the Lonely Mountain was finally reclaimed, I told my husband: ‘My love, if you are not going to send that marriage proposal to King Thorin, I am going to take her to Azsâlul'abad myself!’. And do you know what he said?”

Thorin’s old mentor declared, “I have not the slightest idea, My Lady.”

Neither had Thorin. He refilled his goblet. Beside him, Dis asked Lady Mista a question he did not quite hear, but she received no answer. Lady Milva’s daughter, the new Zabdûna undu ‘Urd, sat unmoving, staring at her empty plate, her lips pressed into a thin line, while her relentless mother kept on talking.

“Well, my dear Tair said ‘No need to do that, my dearest, for I have already sent the proposal!’. I swear, we act and think as one, is it not so, my lord husband?” Lady Milva turned to her spouse and loudly pecked his cheek.

“You speak the truth, my dove,” her husband replied, running his hand down his thick silver beard braid with clear contentment. “It was a great honour that His Majesty agreed to our offer this time!”

“Oh, hush, my gem, no need to bring that up, it happened such a long time ago,” Lady Milva waved her hand. “It is of no consequence now.”

“May I ask what you mean, My Lady?” Óin put his fork aside and brought his hearing trumpet to his ear. “Is there another layer to this charming love story?”

“Indeed, there is! I can tell you in confidence,” Lady Milva clapped her hands, leaning towards Óin, although Thorin noticed that she did not bother to lower her voice, “that we sent a marriage proposal to Thorinuldûm a few years later, but we were informed that King Thorin was not interested. I must admit that we made a grave error that day! You see, dear Lord Óin, we offered the hand of our daughter Adla in marriage instead of Mista! Therefore, it was not at all surprising that His Majesty was not interested. She was simply not the right daughter! The whole Blue Mountains wondered why he would not marry our Adla — for you must know that she is considered one of the greatest beauties of our clan — nor any other lady for one hundred years!”

“A true mystery indeed,” Óin agreed with a chuckle.

Thorin glared into his goblet. It was not a mystery to him. He clearly remembered the day the first proposal arrived. This missive from Tumunzahar came together with another letter from Gabilgathol, the city of the Firebeard Dwarves. The city he vowed never to return to. The memories he buried on the bottom of his mind, never to revisit. The eyes he would never look into again.

“...so when we sent our second offer,” Lady Milva placed her goblet on the table with a loud thud, “the answer came swiftly. And now — just look at these two, My Lord, and tell me this was not a match carved in stone.”

“May Mahal grant them happiness!” Óin said, lifting his goblet.

Lady Milva did the same, stood up and added loudly, “Let us drink for their long-awaited reunion! Will our royal lovebirds sweeten the toast with a kiss?”

“A kiss! A kiss!” Several voices from among the guests were heard at first, and then more and more of them joined in the chant. “King and Queen! King and Queen!”

What a viper, Thorin cursed inwardly. So that was her revenge. He should have seen it coming. At that moment, he could no longer pretend that he had not heard Lady Milva’s words. Neither had Lady Mista. Their gazes met; her spectacles slid slightly down her nose, uncovering a pair of brown eyes — wide open and terrified.

Thorin leaned towards her, whispering into her ear in order to be heard despite the continuous chanting.

“Forgive me, Lady Mista. This is not how I…” He paused, searching for the right words that did not seem to come. “I am afraid that we may need to make a little spectacle of ourselves, if you do not mind.”

“Kiss! Kiss!” The chanting grew louder, just like Lady Milva’s vicious smile, as people started clapping their hands, stamping their feet, and banging their goblets against the tables.

“I understand. I apologise for my mother.” She signed discreetly in Iglishmêk. Her fingers trembled when she added, “Let us turn it to our advantage and give our people the fairy tale they expect.”

Our people.

“Very well,” Thorin signed back, offering her his hand, palm up, and trying to empty his mind of all the importunate thoughts. With everyone in the Great Hall staring at them expectantly, they had to do it. There was no other way. Lady Mista took his hand, and it seemed to him that in that very moment, a spark of understanding passed between them. This was something they had to do together, something they were expected to do as the King and Queen Under the Mountain. A duty. Nothing more.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” The guests continued to chant.

Thorin stood up, waiting for Lady Mista to gather her skirts and do the same. A moment later, they stood, arm in arm, before the gathered crowd, their hands joined. The continuous chanting echoed against the ceiling of the Great Hall when he turned to face her. Their gazes met; in the candlelight, her eyes looked like molten amber. The new Queen nodded almost imperceptibly, her fine hand gave his a little squeeze, and he could not stall any longer. Thorin lowered his face towards her and his nose bumped against hers, so he tilted his head further, mindful of her spectacles, and let his lips gently brush against hers.

Her breath hitched, and he carefully moved to press his lips against hers, and she must have stood up on her tiptoes because he met the softness of her lips much sooner than expected, and she smelled, or perhaps tasted, like an apple orchard, sweet and innocent, and—

An enthusiastic storm of cheers washed over the Mountain, drowning all the importunate thoughts of his for a long while.

To be continued...

✨ Chapter list: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4... ✨ Entangled Masterlist

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sasakisniko · 1 month ago

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Veronica Mars could have started with Veronica vowing never to get married and ended with her marrying Logan Echolls. That is, if Rob understood the beauty of the story we were watching and weren't so desperate to force it to become the grimdark story he couldn't tell on the UPN.

#veronica mars #logan echolls #logan x veronica #otp: epic love #discourse #anti rob thomas #it's been 20 years and i will never get over this show #it could have been perfect #but rob hates women so... 😩#like as someone with cptsd #i saw a story about healing #about growing #about accepting love #about discarding the need for being the image of perfection and accepting oneself #and apparently that makes me a dumb woman who wants to be barefoot and pregnant according to rob

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twilightnesss · 4 months ago

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⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ love and basketball

pairing: kate martin x nyl!female oc

summary: simone camon & kate martin are “rivals” per say. they both are captains on their individual basketball teams and always went against each other in every way. one week, a few teams had to stay at a hotel for a basketball retreat, helping the youth. unfortunately kate and simone had accidentally got their rooms conjoined. what will happen this week? love? lust? friendship? or hatred?

warnings: none.

simone camon and kate martin, two fierce competitors, found themselves in an unexpected situation. as basketball captains, their passion and determination were well known, especially when they faced each other on the court. the idea of them sharing a hotel room during a basketball retreat seemed like a recipe for disaster.

kate was the first to enter the room, and she immediately claimed the larger bed, throwing her bag onto the soft mattress. simone, who followed closely behind, rolled her eyes at this obvious power move. "guess i'll take the sofa bed then," she said with a hint of sarcasm. kate didn't seem to care, already unpacking her things and making herself at home.

the room was indeed spacious, with two queen-size beds separated by a thin wall and a large window that offered a breathtaking view of the mountain range. the rest of the team would be staying in the rooms down the hall, leaving simone and kate to this unexpected slumber party.

simone's competitive nature took over as she viewed this week as an opportunity to outshine kate in yet another arena. she efficiently changed into her pajamas, determined to be comfortable for the night. kate, on the other hand, took her time, even taking a bubble bath before getting into bed. the casual act annoyed simone, who saw it as a further attempt to assert dominance.

as the evening progressed, the hotel's peaceful atmosphere settled over the room. kate, who was casually scrolling through her instagram feed, noticed simone's restless tossing and turning on the uncomfortable sofa bed. simone, seething with frustration, decided to exact her revenge by turning on the television, the sound piercing the quiet space. kate snapped out of her trance and glared at simone, who simply shrugged in response.

the next morning, both captains woke up early, each with their own agenda. simone, determined to be the better sport, offered an olive branch. "good morning, kate. ready for today's practices?" she asked, already lacing up her sneakers. kate, still groggy from her interrupted sleep, grunted in response, but the tension between them softened a little.

as the days passed, a strange companionship began to develop between them. they realized that, beyond their competitive natures, they had quite a lot in common. both were dedicated to the sport, driven by their passion for basketball and the desire to mentor the younger players. their conversations, initially tense and competitive, evolved into casual discussions about strategy and leadership.

one evening, after a particularly intense practice session, simone and kate found themselves alone in the hotel's lobby, everyone else having gone out for dinner. kate suggested they order room service and eat in their pajamas, a proposition that simone, to her surprise, found quite appealing.

as they tucked into their meal, the atmosphere felt strangely intimate, like a pair of old friends catching up. they spoke about their lives, their dreams, and even shared a few humorous stories about their teammates. simone admitted that she admired Kate's determination, while kate confessed that she respected simone's skill and leadership.

it was during this strange and unexpected friendship that kate and simone found themselves leaning towards each other, drawn by an unspoken understanding and a shared love of the sport. they spent the week bonding in their little hotel room, and on the last night, they even shared a heartfelt hug, thanking each other for the unexpected friendship.

when the camp concluded and it was time to leave, both women felt a strange sense of loss. they had gone from rivals to close friends over the course of just a few days. they said their goodbyes with a promise to stay in touch, each knowing that their competitive spirits would reignite the next time they faced each other on the court.

as they parted ways, both simone and kate knew that their relationship would never be the same, and they looked forward to their next encounter, a court clash that would surely ignite their newly kindled friendship.

a/n: i tried a new method of writing with almost no dialogue.. lmk what you think about it!! i have about 3 other short stories like this in my drafts so stay tuned! love , lana

#kate martin #kate martin x reader #wnba #womens basketball #wlw #short story #basketball #wlw love #las vegas aces #wbb x reader #kate martin fic #kate martin fanfic #kate martin x oc #wlw ns/fw

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thecoochiefairy · 6 months ago

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𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞

━━ 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒 .ᐟ getou.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 13.4K word count. filmed sex, suguru getou, third person omniscient pov, black woman, black girls, vaginal penetration, nasty mf sex, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS and i mean LOTS of dirty talk, a lil degrading, slapping, condomless sex, kissing, pet names, spanking, aggressive suguru, lil bit of sweet suguru, suguru makes that girl lose her mf mind on that dick, minors aren’t welcome!

song to play while listening; 𝑝𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑜𝑠 ; 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑦𝑎𝑧

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ okay y’all, i know it’s long. i’m sorry. IM SORRY! but, mocha said this is her favorite one, so i hope it might be y’all’s favorite too. ngl, i love it as well. it’s sweet, it’s nasty. it’s perfect. enjoy babies 🫶🏽

“IT’S BADDIE-BADDIE SHOT O’ CLOCK!”

Ears ring from the music blaring within her head, red bottom heel buzzing from the vibrations the floor carries. It’s not that she didn’t enjoy spending time with her friends, but this was the last place she wanted to be.

Clubbing wasn’t necessarily her thing. More so her friend's enjoyment, but to make up for lost time she agreed to this outing. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She held her drink close to her body, nodding her head softly to the music as her friends cheered out. She watched as the bottle girls appeared in front of them, swinging giddily to the beat of the song.

This had been her only day off in almost a month, working back to back doubles at her clinic. Her friends always complained that she needed to get out more—she just wished that they actually did something she enjoyed, rather than her being too nice to say the club was a bit overwhelming.

Drink after drink was being offered to her by every man within the building, her friends shooting her down each time she declined. She wasn’t interested in any of them, no matter what they offered. A dance, money, sex— her mind was elsewhere.

She kept a smile along her face as everyone in her section continued to yell in enjoyment, raising her drink as they cheered for her once again. The minute the song changed, she took that as a moment to duck off. She muttered to her best friend, “Gonna grab something out of my car,” she offered to go with her, and she shook her head that she’d be fine.

The cool air outside almost felt refreshing, as if she’d just come up for air out of the ocean. Birds chirp within the night. Any sound was better to her ears than the chaos that ensued inside the club, a sigh passing her lips as she dug her hand within her purse, searching for her lighter.

Instead of retrieving her lighter, she gripped her phone that conveniently buzzed as she touched it. She turned the screen towards her face, reading the unwanted message.

FROM:

smalldickbitchassmothafucka.

MESSAGE:

wya?

She rolled her eyes instantly, shoving the phone deep within her purse. She successfully retrieved what she was actually looking for, finding her pink cigarette box, pressing the button along the side as an equally pink bud released from the top. She pressed it in between her lips, fully focused as she searched for her lighter. Nothing.

She became more antsy as the air swooped around her, fishing around her purse deeper as she continued to search. A thought runs across her mind to completely dump the contents of her purse along the ground, knowing that was overzealous. She groans as she can’t seem to find it. Had she left it at home?

Her eyes then follow over to the light bursting open in her vision as the door swings out, quickly returning back to darkness as a body now stands a couple of feet away from her. A broken light above them flickers down onto a tall man. Cigarette poking in between the plush of his lips, even being in darkness, she sees him. He was horrifyingly attractive. Tattoos roam under the black top he wears, the shirt seemingly supposed to have an oversized look but it mistakenly clung to his hard upper body. Gauges swinging in his ears, low bun dropping tendrils around his face as he lights the end of his cigarette, shaking the fire off the tip as he inhales quickly. She drinks in his appearance. Eyebrow piercing glinting under the dim light, midnight black hair that complimented his olive skin, piercing eyebrows that give him a natural frown. Jesus.

She usually could see attractive men and go about her day. But something about him clung to her, moth to a flame as she stared at him. He was beautiful. The only thing that took her out of her staring was her phone buzzing in her purse again. She opens it, eyes dropping down to the lit screen.

FROM:

smalldickbitchassmothafucka.

MESSAGE:

ik you’re at the club. let me pull up to your section.

She turns her phone over in her purse, other hand still holding her box of cigarettes. She usually wasn’t the type to approach a stranger in any scenario, but it wasn’t gonna kill her to ask, nor would it kill her if he said no. She takes a deep breath, taking a couple of steps towards him as she asks, “Sorry—you gotta’ light?”

His figure was tall and well toned more up close. His eyes shifted over to her, smoke coming out of his nose similar to a dragon as he stared down at her smaller frame. The way that she drank in his appearance wasn’t the way he consumed hers. She stood in front of him, pretty as can be. Light brown skin, onyx curls that wrapped around the fullness of her baby face and heart shaped russet lips. Her eyebrows were darker than the night, arched over the wisps of lashes that lined the edge of her eyelids. Her face was almost feline under the dim light. Dark brown eyes glowing viciously at him, coaxing his attention. Between the brown lip liner and mauve color scheme she mixed together, nose having a tiny amount of pink blush on it, it all enhanced her beauty in a way that gave her a great amount of appeal. If it wasn’t her face, it definitely was the heavily detailed dress she wore, clinging to a preposterous figure as it was a long sleeved, deep v neck design dipping down her chest to show the valley of her taut breast. Her nipples poke through the multicolored material as if saying hello to him, fabric clasping around her child bearing hips, fat ass, skidding down to the dangerously tall red bottoms she wears. She was sexy if he couldn’t think of another word.

“Yeah,” his deep voice rang in her mind, reaching somewhere in her body—maybe nudging her clit—as her brain scattered fantasies of hearing that voice in her ear. She shook the thought away as quickly as it came, watching as he leans forward, flicking the lighter as he cuffs his large hand over it. Her body leans into him as she successfully lights the end of the cigarette, pressing her two fingers around it as she inhaled, letting the smoke fill the space.

In her own way of saying thank you, she attempts to spark a conversation as she mutters, “Trying to knock my habit. I seem to be failing.”

The man chuckles softly, a sly smile growing across his lips, “Same here. Shit is too expensive.”

As he watched her take in a long inhale from the cigar, his dark eyes would scan over the rest of her body.

“What’s an innocent girl doing out here alone? Tryna’ get away from the loud music?”

“Innocent?” She raises an eyebrow, a glint of amusement in her eye, “How presumptive. Just needed a moment of silence, not much of a club person,” she explains.

His deep chuckle was smooth in her chest, shaking logic off of her shoulders as she felt a little too captivated in wanting to hear everything he had to say. He’d give her another charming smile before he nodded his head, “Too bad, pretty little doll like you shouldn’t be smoking like an old ass man. Sure you aren’t out here hiding from a crazy ex or something?”

What a damn flirt, she thinks. Nonetheless it causes her to chuckle, “Mm, not quite. I’m actually here with my best friends. It was easier to come out here, I wasn't trying to bring down the mood with my shitty one.”

Her eyes knock down to her phone that buzzes again, a roll coming to her eyes as she doesn’t read the message this time. The man in front of her seemed to be studying her, almost. He sees as she refuses to look at her phone.

He’d raise his eyebrows, “I didn’t peg you to be a liar.”

“You shouldn’t peg a stranger to tell you any type of truth,” she’s quick, he thinks, a smile back along his lips as he turns his face towards the night.

“Entertain me, then. You gotta’ man?” He flatly asks.

“Had one. You’re nosey, it’s cute.”

“It’s an occupational hazard,” his eyes flick down her body, “I’d like to think I’m making conversation. You’re good at fuckin’ around before giving a solid answer,” he tells her, bringing his lighter back out as he flicks it on for the end of his cigarette.

She leans back against the building, noticing the intense stare he gives her, almost like he wanted to pin her along the wall.

“Ex-boyfriend. Almost a month now.”

He’d give a nod of his head upon hearing her response. After taking a long exhale of the cigar from his lips, he’d glance down at her again, “Must’ve been a fuckin’ idiot. The bastard cheated or something?”

She turns her head towards him, silence as she hears what could’ve been a compliment, “With my co-worker, actually. Called me crying that her car broke down and I asked him to give her a ride to my apartment. He had my car. Next thing I knew, she was riding him,” she shrugs, hearing as he sucks his teeth, “It’s okay. I’m trying to be a big girl about it.”

“I’ll kill him for you,” his voice is serious.

She lets out another breath, laughing softly as she says, “He’d be dead if my intent was to kill him.”

“That’s a damn shame. You should be angry,” he tells her, scanning her face that rids any emotion from the comment. She’s quiet.

She shrugs, “Could just be a coping mechanism. We were together for a while. NowI just feel—stuck…”

She feels like she’s over sharing. She shakes her head, changing the subject as she asks, “So what are you doing out here by yourself? You’re not a creep, are you?”

A deep chuckle comes from under his breath, “A man can’t take a smoke break?”

“Not if he’s preying on innocent women, scathing for their vulnerability,” she scans his face, his amusement to her words unbearably attractive as he shows his bone straight smile to laugh.

“And you say I’m the cute one,” He exhaled the smoke, watching as the puffs quickly got taken up by the soft wind before it scattered in every direction.

Although he seems to brush off her slightly rude comment, she snapped only because he was digging the surface of her emotions. She didn’t like that. She let out a breath as she tried to correct herself, “Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to offend. I’ve heard there are monsters crawling the city at night,” she tries to joke, “But I am voluntarily smoking beside you. So I can’t really call you anything.”

“Need me to protect you?” He taunts.

“Absolutely not. Maybe you’re projecting, sure you’re not the one in need of saving?”

He eyes her, “Funny. To answer your question, I’m here with some friends—I needed a moment to myself.”

“Doesn’t answer on whether you need saving or not.”

“You seem to have a big imagination,” he then points out, flicking his cigarette onto the ground, raising himself off of the wall as he steps closer to her.

“Bigger than a child’s,” she agrees, “I’ll always be a believer in spooky things,” she states, twisting the cigarette within her fingers.

“I could be one of those monsters,” he shrugs, body towering her frame as he now fully stands.

She continues to lean along the wall, a small laugh falling from her lips as the nicotine makes her slightly buzzed, eyeing him in a way she hadn’t before. Her phone buzzed in her purse again. He was close to her, his cologne drowning in her nose as he placed his arm along the side of her body against the wall.

“Are you scared?” He asks, his voice low, deep.

She shakes her head, trying to suppress her smile as she says, “Nope.”

“Good.”

It was true. At that moment, she felt nothing. All she could see was this attractive man in front of her, the tendrils of his hair close to her face. He’s trouble. On the other hand she thinks—should’ve had a goddamn lighter.

Right on time, the door to the club then swings open. Eyes look around outside, successfully finding her friend as she holds her phone to her ear, “Here her ass goes. Earth to the birthday girl! I’ve called you three times, Star. ’The hell have you been doing out here?” She eyes the man with a frown, bringing her focus back to her friend.

His eyebrows slightly raise at that, yet he keeps his eyes on her. An evil grin reappears atop of that eerily straight smile as he smugly states, “Looks like your smoke break is over, birthday girl.”

She sighs, “Unfortunately. And your name was?”

“Suguru,” he replies, the name sounding sexy falling from his lips. A brief thought wonders what it’d sound like falling out of her own mouth.

“Nice to meet you,” she hums, “Thanks for the light.”

She dropped her cigarette along the ground, digging her thin heel into the object before making her way inside, his eyes knocking down to her ass, “No problem,” leaving him outside by himself.

The rest of the night was better than she expected it to be. Her mood was up a bit more—specifically after a couple shots of Dussè—an outgoing personality now fitting along with the rest of her friends as they sang her happy birthday. She could admit, the rest of the night also included her constantly making eyes at Suguru, his presence reaching from the other side of the club even as he distractedly spoke to his friends. She felt him staring. Her phone buzzed in the corner of their section, Star and her friends now tipsily rapping out to ‘Fake Jammin’ by Sexxy Redd, the alcohol in her system providing a confidence as as bent over the table, swinging her hips to the song, dipping down sultrily, careless of the eyes that followed her body. And yes, she knew he was looking. As she continued to giggle and dance with her friends, she curiously looked over to see if he was watching. Of course he was.

Yeah, okay. He thought to himself.

The night eventually came to an end, the DJ announcing that the club was closing with it being four-thirty in the morning. Star’s feet were aching in her heels as she trudged behind her friends through the front door, her body feeling the presence of the man she’d met outside behind her, even in the chaos of other people walking. She refused to look back. Even with her feet hurting, she was still a little floaty from her previous shots, a giddiness that couldn't ruin her happiness. Her other friends trailed behind her, two of them holding onto each other as they were drunk, her best friend also being the only other sober one.

“We woke up in the kitchen saying ‘How the hell did this shit happen? Oh baby!” One friend sings behind her, seemingly becoming more intoxicated as she shouts out the lyrics.

“Last thing I remember is our beautiful bodies grinding up in that club—�� the other sings, clinging onto her friends arm as they sing in unison, “DRUNK IN LOVEE!”

“You think they’re gonna throw up?” Star asks, trying to hide her laugh as they belt out the chorus.

“God I hope not,” her best friend sighs, eyes on the screen of her phone as she throws her purse up her shoulder, “Big-E just texted me, said he wants me to pull up on him.”

“Who?” Star frowns deeply.

Her best friend frowns back, “Don’t do that. You know that’s my lil’ play thing!”

“Oh girl, you mean Emmanuel? The one that steals cars?” She ignores the arm that shoves her away, laughing at her best friend's irritation, “Please call that man by his government. I am not calling his ass by that stupid ass street name.”

“It’s cute!”

Star rolls her eyes, “Ghetto. You’re tryna’ go over there right now?”

She nods her head in reply, “Imma’ drop off dumb and dumber to my house before I go, let them raid my kitchen and sober themselves up. You’ good to drive home?”

“Yeah, I’m good—“

At the mention of her car, she halts as she sees her blood red Camaro, a bright yellow catching her eye as she sees not just one—but two boots on her back wheels. Her energy quickly falters, anger seeping up her spine as she picks up her dress, darting closer to her car as she spits, “Motherfucker.”

“Oh hell,” her best friend curses, “I thought you paid to park?”

“I did! Fuckin’ forty dollars just so I could be close to the door, the bouncer told me it was fine! That stupid ass nig—“

“Calm down. What are you gonna’ do?”

“I don’t fucking know. I have a night shift later on. This is so stupid!” She exclaims, leaning along her vehicle as she runs her fingers through her hair exasperatedly.

Almost like clockwork, Suguru appeared behind her after overhearing the conversation between Star and her friends, seeing as she was now fuming about the boot on her wheels. He gave a nod to his own friends as he made his way over to the bodies standing around her vehicle, a small hint of amusement on his face as he asked, “Everything alright?”

“Hell no. Motherfuckers put a boot on my damn car.”

“Damn. That’s crazy,” he tells her.

She narrows her eyes at the unnecessary comment, feeling her pressure spiking at the shit-eating grin upon his face. She then states, “Did you need something? Cause’ unless you got Triple A in your back pocket, imma’ ask you to get the fuck away from my car.”

“Hm, I didn’t know Triple A took boots off of cars,” he replies, tilting his head sarcastically.

Her eye twitches. Just as she’s about to go off on him, one of her drunken friends cuts her off as she drops her face to get a look at him, eyeing his body up and down as she asks, “Where the hell you’ from? It damn sure ain’t Louisiana.”

He smirks towards her as he replies, “Kyoto, Japan. Moved out here when I was younger, I stayed to help rebuild the businesses needing repair from Hurricane Katrina.”

“Oooh, that’s what you do for work?” The other friend also slurs.

“Imma’ architect, love. So yes.”

“Oooh, a working man. I like that,” the two friends both play off of each other, moaning together.

Star’s annoyance nearly clouds at the top of her head, Suguru enjoying the way her face becomes red, full cheeks fuming as she stares at him. She looked adorable.

“Your friends are funny,” he chuckles.

“Then get their numbers. You seem to be interested,” she fires back.

“Cute,” he eyes her, “I want you though.”

“So? Get in line. You ain’t the only one.”

“I wasn’t asking,” he tells her, large frame hovering over hers as he stares down. Unfortunately she was slightly mesmerized. What a fucking-goddamn flirt, she thinks again.

“I’ll take you home, babydoll. Since you seem to be stuck here anyway.”

“Nuh-uh! Hell no. You’ fine and all, but nobody knows your big headed ass. Try again, make your way back to your lil’ boy band,” her best friend cuts off.

Star shrugs, “I don’t know you.”

He’d glance down at her, shrugging his shoulders with his hands shoved in pockets before he’d gaze down into her friends eyes, “I understand. How about I give you my information?”

“Oop! He’s good,” the drunk friend comments.

“Whew, fine as hell, too!,” the other muttered, drunkenly giggling amongst each other.

Her best friend still has her arms crossed with narrowed eyes as she replies, “That sounds good and all, but no. Let’s go, Star.”

Star lets out a breath, seeing that irregardless of his playful nature, he becomes serious as he speaks of her safety. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to get a ride home from an attractive man, that’s all it was going to be. She then turns to her best friend, “Actually, it’s okay. He can take me home. I know you wanna go to your little sneaky links house and end the night off with him. You have my location, I’ll be fine. Go to Big-E’s house, or whatever the fuck his name is.”

“Big-E?” Suguru frowns, Star quickly reminds, “Hush.”

“You sure?” Her best friend frowns.

“Positive.”

She then looks back at Suguru as she says, “She has a gun. Just so you know.”

“You’ll have my information, she has her gun. She’ll be good,” he promises.

Her best friend apprehensively stares between the two, sighing out as she says, “Fine. Keep your phone close to you at all times, so god help me I will chop you up into little pieces if you don’t answer me,” she threatens, pulling her into a hug.

“I’ll hand you the knife,” Star chuckles, tightening the embrace.

“Let me get these dumbasses home,” she sighs, “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Star replies, the two girls behind them giggling as they wave to Suguru, “Byeeeee.”

He waves shyly, chuckling as they pull each other along to the car. Once the two are now left alone, Star looks to him as she says, “You think you’re so cute, huh?”

“I am. My mom tells me all the time,” he replies, “So, Big-E? That’s a cool name.”

“I’m ignoring you,” she mutters, going towards her car as she begins to pull her work clothes out of the backseat.

“Can you call me Big-S?”

“I will fuckin’ shoot you.”

The first thirty minutes of the car ride had been silent. Star had her eyes forward, her mind stressing over the fact that her car had a boot on it, her phone wouldn’t stop buzzing, and she was now receiving a ride from an ungodly hot stranger that slightly annoyed her. Her feet also ached. But she needed something to uplift her spirits. The wind rushed through her hair as he drove a sleek black Challenger, customizing it to look almost retro as it had a drop top, headlights a lime green color as it shined onto the street.

“Nice car,” she compliments softly.

He turns his head towards her, “So she does speak.”

“You can just say thank you.”

“Thank you,” he replies, “Wanna see how fast it goes?”

“No—“

She squeals out as he presses his foot on the gas, igniting the engine as he speeds faster down the road. She grips onto the door with a now red face. Suguru chuckles, the car engine growing louder as he presses his foot down.

“Relax, pretty. I’m a good driver, Never had an accident,” he would reassure, looking back at the road, “You mentioned having a night shift. Where do you work?”

“I’m an uh—Phlebotomist,” she tells him, shrieking lightly as he goes even faster, “Would you stop it?!Don’t be an ass, speeding down the highway and killing me won't make your dick any bigger!”

His laughter grew as she would shriek when he continued to drive even faster, taking corners just to tease her more, “I’m just tryna’ lighten up your night a bit, it is your birthday.”

“Or just slow down?” She suggested. Her eyes fall down to her phone that vibrates once again, body becoming irritated at the familiar number.

FROM:

smalldickbitchassmothafucka.

MESSAGE:

you ignoring me fr?

She flips the phone on her lap. Suguru catches this movement, looking down as he asks, “Ex tryna’ contact you again?”

“Unfortunately,” she mutters.

“Why not just block him?”

She thinks on that question, trying to figure out whether she wants to be honest with him—or honest with herself, really.

“I like the attention. But I don’t want to talk to him,” she shrugs.

He raises an eyebrow, “Isn't that a little petty?”

“Petty? Might be. I enjoy seeing him suffer a bit—if he’s even suffering. He’s probably calling me, laid up with some bitch as we speak,” a roughness is in her voice, almost like jealousy. She could admit that the idea bothered her a bit.

Suguru keeps his eyes on the road in front of them, “Maybe he is. Why do you give a fuck, though? He doesn’t deserve you. You’re a fuckin’ ten, he’s an idiot.”

She feels her face become warm, not sure why his words make her a little flustered. She usually had control in these situations. She then says, “I didn’t ask for a therapy session.”

“Not trying to give you one,” he frowned, “If you truly didn’t care, you would’ve cut contact. Saying you enjoy the attention sounds like bullshit. You still have some sort of feelings for him.”

“You really are nosey, aren’t you?” She scrunches her face.

“You went from your whole body shriveling up when he texts to you getting upset over the possibility that he is with someone else. Which is it?”

“Would you rather me shoot you in your ass, or shove my foot up there? Which is it?” She mocks, back to being annoyed with him.

“I hit a nerve,” he points out, “You could’ve just told me to drop the subject.”

“Threatening to shoot you should have sufficed that I wanted the conversation to end,” she sneers.

Their relationship was an extreme sore spot for her. She wasn’t sure if feelings were still there, or she was bitter from being hurt—nonetheless, she didn’t want to hear the truth. He couldn’t help but still think she was incredibly cute even when upset with him. As he continues to drive, the car is back to being silent. The streets are completely empty as her eyes stare out the window. Suguru then halted, twisting the wheel as he began to spin the vehicle.

Her wide eyes shifted to him as she asked, “What are you doing?”

A mischief is now in his eyes as he looks at her. He presses his foot along the gas, the car beginning to swerve faster as it flew backwards. He’s doing donuts. At first, she’s completely terrified. She cries, “Hey! Stop it!” Her hair flying all around her face, wind smacking her body.

“I told your ass to relax,” he places his hand along her thigh, reassuringly squeezing as he takes his other hand, turning the wheel in the direction he wants to go.

The car begins to spin faster. Her heart nearly falls in her ass. But as it continues, it feels almost as if she’s on a rollercoaster. Her stomach dropped in a way that made her feel ticklish. It felt like her entire body weighed nothing, and she was flowing through the air like a bird. Her curiosity got the best of her as the music within the car boomed along her skin, her head slightly tilting outside of the car, hair flying in the opposite direction, air swooping along her scalp. She faintly giggles.

The air felt good in her face, pulling her unruly curls out of it as the street lights shined along her expression. In that same second she jumped from curiosity to fearlessness. She shuffled onto her knees as she leaned her upper body out of the car and yelled out, releasing all the pent up energy within her body, whether it was good or bad.

Suguru grinned as he saw her beginning to enjoy herself. He would glance over at her, watching as she would lean out the car to yell, Cheshire grin along her face. Her frame was beautiful as she bent over, his mind aching to touch her, feeling the peace that radiated off her body. It sounded stupid to say, but at that moment she felt— free. She brought her head back into the car and laughed, seeing as Suguru reversed the vehicle back on the road, howling as he sped down the street.

“Look at you, so pretty when you’re not mad.”

“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes, biting her own mouth as she didn’t want to smile.

He poked her cheek, “I see that smile, you can’t hide it. Now I wanna make you smile all the time.”

She keeps her eyes to her lap, shaking her head at his words. Damn. She hated how good he was. Her mind has that floaty feeling she had when she first exited the club, body tingling as Suguru reached for her thigh again. He dragged his fingers up as he searched for her hand, pulling her towards himself as he kissed her palm, muttering, “You’re sweet, doll,” holding their intertwined fingers in his own lap. Something shifted in her chest.

They had finally made it to her apartment after almost an hour of driving. Although, she could admit that she was glad to have that hour with him. Silence greets them again, her free hand patting lightly along her lap as she tries to find her words. She couldn’t lie, he was patient —despite the multiple occasions where she almost crashed out. She felt like she needed to grow fond of the word sweet and take action.

“Um—do you wanna come inside for breakfast? My treat,” she offers, “I mean—I feel like I owe you something—if you want. Just—yes or no, please?” She stuttered out, wanting to kick herself.

For the first time, he catches her being…nervous? Those same round cheeks that he couldn’t stop staring at were warm within her face, no blush needed for her skin as she was doing it naturally.

A smirk grew in his face as he decided he wouldn’t make fun of her for it, “That’s fine.”

“That’s fine? That’s like saying, ‘sure’ like you just do it cause it seems convenient—“

“Star. I want to. Stop fussing, brat.”

She rolls her eyes, “I’m not a damn brat. Just needed clarification,” she grumbles.

“Can you feed a man, babydoll? I got needs,” he touches his stomach, groaning dramatically.

She’d never had another man in her house besides her ex in years. Although she wanted to play along with him, her awkwardness was beginning to return. She nodded her head, “Good. Yeah. Good. Okay,” she muttered, now wanting to full on roundhouse kick herself.

He grabs her things for her as she gets out of the car, Star’s nonexistent ass hairs standing up as he follows her up the stairs into her small apartment. Pink decor and stuffed animals laid all around the living room.

“Don’t say shit about my girly ass house, healing my inner child,” she defends, locking the door behind him. Her apartment almost seemed too small with him in it, his large frame damn near covering the entire house.

He’d glance around the room, feeling a little taken back by the large amounts of pink decor and toys, Suguru finding himself even more interested the more he saw. He let out a chuckle, “I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

He’d lean against the wall as the two of them stood inside, glancing down at his towering height, her apartment being so tiny that he almost had to kneel down to not reach the ceiling.

“Kuromi?” She then calls.

Before Suguru could ask who she was calling for, a pitch black pit-bull came flying out of her bedroom, beelining straight for him. As intimidating as the dog looked, the large animal pants excitedly at the scent of a new guest within the house, rubbing her body against him happily.

“Don’t worry. She’s harmless, as much as I want her to be the most terrifying guard dog. I think she secretly wants to be a cat, rubbing up against you like that,” Star can’t help but smile.

The dog was adorable. He let out another chuckle as he looked, crouching down with his hand extended, “Hey, girl. Come here.”

“You better stop, she falls in love easily,” Star warns as she sees them becoming acquainted, “Anything in particular you want for breakfast? I’ll cook anything but bacon, me or Kuromi don’t do pork,” she explained, patting her dog as she jumped up beside her, excitedly yelping at her presence.

“Why don’t you do pork?”

Star presses her lips together, sighing out as she hates telling this story, “Well…there was a petting zoo at my job one time and I took Kuromi with me cause they said other animals were allowed. And—well, she ate one of the pigs. It was so sad,” she frowns, her eyes coming up as she sees him trying to hold in his laugh, “Hey! Not funny,” she pouts.

Suguru’s eyes widened in curiosity at her answer to his question, before immediately letting out a laugh. His laugh would only continue further “Why the hell would you bring your dog to a petting zoo?”

“I just wanted her to see other animals,” she continues to pout, moving her face away as he gently touches her chin in comfort.

He’d look down at her as she pouted, unable to hold back from gently caressing her chin with his palm. He found himself being a little intrigued at the look she seemed to frequently make, Suguru leaning forward, “Your pouts are adorable, y’know that? I’ve never seen anyone who pouts and tantrums as much as you do.”

“I do not tantrum, dickhead. Just complain more often than others,” she corrects, making her way towards the kitchen, beginning to search around as she stated, “Just for that you’re getting a damn omelet. No choices for you!”

She bent over into the fridge, never noticing his eyes that continuously knocked down to her ass any opportunity he had to do so. He followed behind her as he leaned onto the counter, “What if I’m allergic to eggs? What if I was looking forward to having pancakes or something?”

“Then I hope you have an epipen! Should’ve thought about that before you basically called me a toddler,” she retorts, diving into the fridge for the ingredients she needed, placing them on the counter.

He found himself amused by her attitude. He’d lean over her shoulder slightly as she brought out the ingredients she needed, letting a grin grow on his lips as he spoke into her ear, “Keep talking shit and I’ll put you over my knee to spank your ass like a damn toddler.”

She blows her hair out of her face, feeling a chill run through her body at his close proximity. She brushes him off as she then mutters, “Womp womp. Whatever, anyways, ooh! I have turkey bacon, is that okay?”

He exhales, “Perfectly fine, baby. Let’s hope you cook as good as you look.”

“Don’t be tryna’ kiss my ass now cause you want a good breakfast. Besides, I’m the best omelet maker in this century. In this galaxy, you’ll see,” she nods her head, grabbing for a pan and whisking spoon.

“Are you even alive if you haven’t had an omelet from Star?” He taunts.

Star winks, “Exactly. You’re smart. I like men with big sexy brains.”

As she begins cracking the eggs into a bowl, her phone buzzes for the thousandth time tonight. She unfortunately had the ability to see the screen since it was facing upward, briefly reading over the message, honestly wishing she hadn’t.

FROM:

smalldickbitchassmothafucka.

MESSAGE:

imma come over there when i get off work. i wanna talk to you. i fucked up.

“Do you need me to block his ass for you? You seem to be fuckin’ hardheaded,” Suguru speaks, Star looking behind herself as she catches an irritation in his voice.

“He’s just pissed that I’m ignoring him. He’ll stop eventually.”

“He’s been texting you since four in the morning, probably even before that. It’s damn near seven now. The more you ignore him, the more he’s gonna seek out your response.”

“Are you putting on your therapist hat again? I don’t think I asked for another session,” she furrowed her eyebrows towards him.

“I don’t need to wear my therapist hat to understand how an ex’s shitty behavior works, baby. You’re an enabler.”

She let out a breath as she asked, “Hand me an egg, please?” Reflexively blowing her hair out of her face as she tried to ignore his comment.

He raised a brow at the sudden change of subject, his hand beginning to move to pick up one of the eggs before he’d tease, “Say please again. Much sweeter in your pretty voice.”

“Hand me the fucking egg, jackass?” She corrects herself, smiling as she does so.

“Good girl. You’re better behaved than before,” he then hands her the egg, Star snatching it out of his palm.

Star begins to play music from her phone, ignoring the multiple messages as she places it back down, continuing to cook. Silence comes back between the two as Suguru begins looking around her apartment, catching younger pictures of her, family portraits, small things that made him grin. As he continued to her bedroom, he noticed a phone holder mounted along her wall across from the bed, frowning at the randomly placed adapter.

“What’s this for?” He asks, Star leaning herself out of the kitchen as she follows his eyes to her bedroom, “Hm?”

As she made eye contact with the familiar piece of equipment, an influx of memories came flooding into her mind. She couldn’t debate whether they were fond memories. She wipes her hands with a paper towel, annoyed at the blood filling her cheeks as she replies, “We uh…use to record ourselves…y’know. Or I’d record something for him,” she says quietly.

His brows would raise a little as he heard her explain what it had been used for, his lips curling into a teasing smirk.

“Don’t smile like that. It’s creepy,” she turned back into the kitchen, continuing to crack another egg into the bowl as she was planning to mix the yolk with seasoning.

“That’s not very nice, doll. I didn’t even make fun of you this time.”

“Your face told it all,” she grumbled.

“How about you make your signature omelet so good it completely masks my thoughts?” He’s back to his taunting, entertained by how riled up it makes her.

“Maybe I should poison it then, hm?” She suggests politely.

“Will it give me the shits or make me sleepy?”

She presses her lips together, a small chuckle leaving her mouth at that as she giggles, “You’re so dumb.”

The soft music playing was a comfort to her. With all of their innocent flirting, Star didn’t realize just how much she was intriguing Suguru. All of the times she had an attitude with him, snapped at him, her smile, her sexy laugh, all of it was being jotted down in his head. He was like a ticking time bomb ready to blow up at any second. Fortunately for her, his time capsule had began when they first met. Unfortunately, his time capsule had just now run out. As she began to stir the egg yolk, her eyes hadn’t noticed as Suguru watched her every move. His vision had darkened, tunneling in on her. Specifically on her dress and the way her body curved within it.

Her innocence had gotten the best of her, in her own world as she happily spoke, “You’re gonna love the taste of these, promise.”

“What do you taste like?”

The words fall from his lips quickly. It spiked up her spine like he’d lit a match, making sure that she wasn’t crazy and that she’d heard his words correctly.

Her eyes turn towards him as she says, “I—huh?—“

She squealed lightly as he picked her up by the hips, placing her roughly on the kitchen counter. Her face goes completely hot, unable to say anything against his dark eyes. He would laugh darkly at her reaction, taking in the way her cheeks flushed brightly as he placed her onto the countertop with such ease. His eyes would wander over her now exposed thighs, hands gripping the skin as he moved to stand in between them, “Are you always this pretty when you’re flustered, Star?”

“Flustered? I—well—“

His lips are along her throat, Star’s hand flying upward and gripping tightly along his neck as he sucks along the skin like it’d be his last time ever doing so. Her entire body melted at his touch. She couldn’t think of the last time she’d felt this type of pleasure, her eyes fluttered shut, a whimper leaving her mouth before she could think about suppressing it.

He would feel her grip him tightly as she let out a light whimper, a grin spreading wide on his face hearing the noise fall from her mouth. He would press another few kisses onto her throat, his mouth trailing up until he lightly nipped at her ear, tugging it between his teeth as he whispered to her, “Fuck. You’re so sensitive, baby. You’re already falling apart.”

She didn’t know where these feelings came from, but it was like a river rushing through a dam, crumbling the wall as her body was now immensely aroused. She wanted him to touch her in ways no one else hadn’t. No one else couldn’t. Her phone began to buzz again, her eyes looking over to it, suddenly being pulled away as Suguru gripped her chin, harshly pulling her mouth to his.

He would be brought out of his own thoughts, feeling her begin to look away as the sound of her phone echoed through the room again. A low growl would come from his chest as he began to pull her chin back towards him, his mouth deepening the kiss. His hands would move up, grabbing onto her hips as he pulled her forward towards him, pressing her body more firmly against his own. His kiss was different. It was passionate, all while being completely lustful. His tongue was within her mouth, damn near removing the tonsils from her throat as he swirled it around, holding her by her chin dominantly.

His tongue explored the inside of her mouth as he groaned softly, loving the taste she had. She was sweeter than she looked. He would move one of his hands down to her thigh, giving her skin a light pinch between his fingers, Star gasping softly as he hoisted her against him, wrapping her legs around his waist. In that vast moment he also used one of his hands to grab her phone. He continued to kiss her, digging his fingers into her scalp as he jerked her head back, yanking her face upwards to suck along the skin of her throat. The feeling was so overwhelming, her eyes closed as she dug her teeth into her lip.

She barely had a conscience to notice as he placed her phone within the holder against the wall, her ears then registering as he turned on the camera, pressing the record button.

She looked up to him as she said, “What are you…”

He would chuckle at her questioning tone, his lips moving down along her jawline as he replied, “I wanna see how pretty you look on camera. You like being watched, doll?”

“No,” she immediately lies. Her entire being was interested in his offer, but she refused to let herself fall that easily. Her breath hitched as his hand fell down to her ass, gripping the skin in his palm as he harshly spanked her at her response.

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me. Be honest and give me permission before I do anything else to you,” he demands.

She was at a loss for words. When she realized that he was more worried about her consent than anything else, she nodded her head, “Yes, I like being watched,” coming so soft from her plush lips, pulling him forward into another kiss.

She’d never had a man be so forward with her, eyes catching her face within the camera as he laid her along the end of the bed, her eyes only able to see his broad back within the camera as he gripped his shirt from behind, removing it to reveal an inked up back.

His eyes would glance into the camera that was pointed at the two of them, his grin slowly growing into a full smirk as he saw her expression. His arms flexed around him, showing off the ink that was along his back before he’d pull the shirt off fully, tossing it to the floor as he turned back around and kneeled down in front of her.

Her eyes watched him. Her entire frame jumped as he yanked her to the end of the bed, tossing her legs over his shoulders. She then heard him mutter, “Fuck that,” twisting her around so her back was now facing the camera, his body leaning against the front of the bed. She was now sitting along the top of his face, legs hoisted above his broad shoulders.

He groans, digging his fingers into her skin as he pushes her dress up, his eyes catching sight of the name, ‘Angel’ tattooed along her ass cheek. He arrogantly chuckles, Star gasping lightly as he spanks right above the name, gripping the trembling skin within his palm as he groans, “Imma’ eat your pussy so fucking good.”

He instantly wraps his lips around her clit as he pulls her down, grunting as he tastes her, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he does so. She was like candy to an addict, a reward that wasn’t so easily given to him. He wanted to drown in her. A demon out of hell he was, sucking along Star’s clit as he dragged his tongue through the entirety of her, twisting his head from side to side as he delved deeper, relishing her scent melodically.

She sucked in a breath, knees shifting on the edge of the bed as he held her by the back of her thighs, his eyes locking up to hers in a way that had her release a cruel exhale.

“I’m g—gonna fall—“

She nearly slipped, his strong arms catching her legs, locking them up over his shoulders, allowing her to lean halfway on the bed. He guided, “Control your hips, baby. I’m doing the rest. You’re so fuckin’ wet. I want more,” he grunts, nuzzling his lips against her clit, nudging the sensitive flesh as he lapped his tongue up and down, gripping her skin tighter as he commanded, “Give me more.”

“Suguru,” she whimpered. He realized up until now that this was her first time saying his name, the sound so foreign among her tongue that it ignited him even further. Her back arched, deepening her core along his face, shuddering out another gasp. His tongue worked along her sensitive folds in teasing strokes, dragging down until he met with her squelching hole, tongue fitting perfectly inside of her as he pushed within the velvet of her walls.

Star’s mouth broke open as she moaned, gripping her hand in his hair that framed along the edge of the bed. He ground her hips along his face with desperation. It was as if he were starving, making out with her core in a way that had his lips and jaw soaked, head knocking up and down as he grunted against her.

He locked his mouth along her clit again, Star shudderingly gasping and whining peevishly that she tugged his hair, eyes tightly shut as he dirtily spit along her opening and watching as her chest palpitated, running his tongue along the entirety of her pussy and slowly pushing his head forward, suckling against her. He dirtily kissed her clit, eyeing it dangerously from above before spitting on it again, hungrily taking it back into his mouth. He devoured her. She gripped the dark streams until her knuckles blushed a crimson red, blood flow coursing through her veins immaculately.

Her eyes briefly made their way behind herself, seeing the outline of her body atop of his face, her vision able to see as his tongue plasters upward and onto her core, her eyes quickly falling back to the opposite direction as he stings another spank to her ass, “Pussy is so pretty, baby. Like fuckin’ art,” he groans.

He went from pressing kisses along her inner thighs just to get a look at her core glistening tempestuously, to his tongue again running along the entirety of her, taking in the rosy color against his taste buds, groaning tumultuously at how something so vulgar was deliriously alluring. Star’s lower abdomen trembled at the merciless action. Her hips swirled slightly as she whimpered gratifyingly when he ran his index and middle finger along her clit, running down her core before he sunk his fingers inside of her, scissoring her opening. Suguru listened as she prettily moaned in his ears from the harsh actions, her nails shoving into his hair as he inhaled her honey streamed scent and delectable taste, a mixture of inebriety that Suguru desired for.

She thought for a second, maybe he hated her. Maybe he wanted to do some type of torture upon her. Had to. His long tongue, slick with saliva lengthens out as he grips the bottom of her thighs, bouncing her up and down against his face, grunting each time his tongue pokes at her g-spot. Star reaches back as he grips for his arm, whimpering as Suguru shoves her hand away, spanking her for even touching him.

“Put your fuckin’ hand down.”

“Suguru, please. I’m gonna cum.”

“Then make a mess on me.”

The sound of her opening sounds wet, sticky and spurting out as she creams just from his mouth, Suguru arrogantly chuckling as he spreads his tongue for the camera, “Yeah, yeah. Too fuckin’ good to me, creaming on my tongue. Imagine how you’ll look on my dick. I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”

She believes him, too. Star holds her breath as he pulls her body upwards, his back now fully against the bed’s banister as he sat up against it. He was quick, twisting her hair within his fist as he guided her pretty face towards him, locking her within a kiss that she had to exhale for. He pulls her back from his lips, “Such a fuckin’ brat,” Star is already knowing, reaching for the hem of his pants as she pulls them off, her eyes not expecting something so heavy and veiny to slap along his belly button. Her mouth goes agape.

He watches her within the camera, her silhouette beautiful to his eyes, back arching as she kneels towards him, lashes fluttering against her full cheeks as her breath hitches from the hold he has along her hair. She wraps her lips around his tip, pink and soft within her mouth as she slides her mouth down, letting him sink deeper within her throat until she coughs, humming with her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Suguru’s eyes never leave the sight of her on video, curls shifting in his fist as Star bobs her head up and down, whimpering out as she begins to move her neck faster, desperately wanting every inch of him within her throat.

“All you needed was something in that fuckin’ filthy mouth of yours,” he grunts, watching as she wraps her hands around the bottom that her mouth can’t reach, moaning softly as she massages his balls with her fingers. His intense stare at her darkens, “This is all you wanted, huh? Spit on my dick, don’t need you crying that I’m tearing you apart. Need you to take every inch of me.”

Shut up, shut up, she thinks, his words making her more wet by the second, gasping against him as he spanks her again, rushing his hand up to the back of her neck as he pushes her face down. Her arousal practically drips along the bed. Star’s lips begin to burn, her throat entirely full as his tip knocks at the top of her mouth, almost feeling empty each time he pulls out to slam back in.

“I’m so fuckin’ horny,” she whimpers, Suguru chuckling as he pulls her face up to his, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she admits, carelessly so, opening her mouth as she sucks him back down her throat, slamming her lips down the front of his hips, Suguru grunting out, abdomen tightening.

“Fuck. C’mere,” he pulls her up, smashing their lips together roughly. Star pouts along his mouth as he stopped her, whining again as he feels her pout, bringing his hand as he gently slaps her face, “Needy ass,” he grits his teeth, pulling her on top of his lap.

His tip is prodding at her opening. Her back arches as she raises her hips away from him, feeling his tip fat against her tiny hole. Suguru takes himself within his hand, using the other as he holds her hip above him, sinking his tip into her, stretching her out as his girth was just as large as his length. It felt almost cruel. She fought with her dress as her body became extremely hot, Suguru taking his hands as he effortlessly shredded the material, her mind too gone to even become upset.

He then gripped her chin, forcing her to look behind herself and into the camera. Her cheeks were warm as he did so, trying to turn back towards his eyes, unable to do so as he shook his head.

“Don’t look at me, babydoll. I want you to watch yourself as you ride me,” his tone had turned seductive as he spoke to her, his hands moving up to her waist before he’d add with a chuckle, “Put on a fuckin’ show for me,” he sinks her down further, Star’s eyes tightly shutting as his dick engulfed her entire body, a deep pinch of pleasure mixed with pain as she fully dropped down, whimpering as his balls slapped her thighs.

His eyes washed over her body without clothing, a figure more beautiful than he could imagine. Her large breast and brown areolas were made to look at, nipples shaking as he adjusted himself inside of her. Star can only stare at the name tatted on her skin for a moment. Suguru runs his fingers along the skin, gripping as he slams his palm down against it once more. She has no time to react as he’s pulling her hips up, dropping her down slowly, agonizing at this point. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, moaning out as she looked up to her face, blown with lust.

His grin grew into a full smirk as his hips began to move against hers, her moan echoing in his ears as he heard it. He’d chuckle softly at her reaction. His tongue would run along his bottom lip, his hands sliding up along her waist before he’d pull her body firmly onto his own, pulling his arms under her legs as he kept his fingers against the skin of her ass, pulling her up fast, dropping her down slowly. Star’s mouth parted, listening as their skin smacked in contact, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she stuttered, “O—oh my fuckin’ god, Suguru.”

“You want me so badly…fuckin’ hell. Your pussy keeps…pulling me in…” he talks in between her stretched core meeting his hips, skin clapping louder than before.

She seemed to lose herself in the heat, unable to listen as he spoke along her neck, “Oh shit,” pulling her down harder, skin melting together like velcro, snatching away from each other each time he placed her in the air, pulling her roughly back down, the balls of her feet swinging in the air as he was in full control of her. His face moves to press into her shoulder, his teeth finding her skin as he’d bite down along her neck and jawline.

His own face was within the camera now, keeping her lips above his skin so he could still hear every sound falling from her lips. She dug her fingers into his neck as her arms were wrapped around his shoulders, only able to groan deeply from his ruthless strokes, a pain that was so sweet to the touch.

His eyes would glance upwards, watching the way they rocked together in the camera that was still running, his smirk growing wider as he told her, “Eyes here. Now,” Star looking into his dark expression, mouth still open in shock of how good he was fucking her, how deep he was inside of her. She whimpers quietly, “Yeah, yeah,” eyes dropping to watch the monster that halfway pulls out, stretching her every time he shoves back in. Alabaster arousal paints his dick the more he pulls out, Star whimpering again, “Hitting my fuckin’ g-spot, baby,” and he smirks, “Pull my dick in more, yeah, yeah,” her walls clamping down on him, sucking him in like she never wanted to let go.

His teeth clamp down on her neck as he’d continue to bite and suck softly at her skin. He’d give another rough bite onto her, not stopping his hips from meeting her own, a moment of silence almost coming between them, their ears listening as she gushes on his dick, slick noises wavering between their bodies heavenly. He was evil, now taking both of his palms as he locked his fingers together around her lower back, gripping as he pulled her up, harshly dropping her down. The camera caught her entire face. She whined, “Baby,” the sound being captured as he kissed her lips, never stopping his movement.

He’d chuckle, “‘Baby?’ You’re falling apart,” his tongue pushing into her mouth and sliding across hers. He didn’t stop moving his hips, hands now sliding up along her back to tangle in her hair, locking his fingers back together as he has a trap along her curls. He’d groan against the kiss, mouth dominating her own as she whimpered, music against his lips that he wanted on replay.

His hands slid along her back, tangling more into hair as he was now bouncing her down onto his hips. Her eyes were to the back of her head, choking out cries against his mouth, moaning in ways she hadn’t before. Her reactions were all in the arrogance of his expression, her body pooling into his hands as she completely submitted to him. He’d groan again, a cocky expression on his face as he felt her submissive manner, his hands pulling at her hair to keep his mouth against hers. His tongue would slide across hers again as his eyes locked onto her own, a smirk playing on his mouth as his hips continued to rock. He’d pull his lips from hers, chuckling breathlessly as he’d command, “Tell me how much you like this shit.”

“Yes, baby. I like it so much. So much,” she softly cried, “I’m so…” she gasped within his mouth, his hand coming along her throat as he twisted her face towards the camera, slamming her hips down to meet his, “Don’t go mute on me, doll,” he’d tease with a chuckle, watching the way his hand had her face directed at the camera, the force slamming her hips down onto his own causing her to cry out again. His fingers tightened around her jaw, keeping her facing the camera as he whispered lowly, “Finish your sentences, big girl.”

She didn’t even remember, she was so lost within him. She admitted, “You’re making me feel so fuckin’ good…so good, Suguru…”

“That’s such a good girl,” he coos, his hand sliding from her jaw as his fingers tangled in her hair again, his mouth pressing into her shoulder as he’d start placing a series of marks along her skin. His hips would start to rock roughly against hers. He groans out, “Look at how fuckin’ pretty you are.”

“You’re so pretty too, baby…” she whimpers mindlessly, “So fucking hot,” she whimpers deeply.

“You’re gonna make me get a big ego with all of that praise, baby,” he’d tease again, pulling her hair gently and groaning lowly. His hands slide along her back, fingers digging into her flesh as he continued rocking into her, her voice only able to be heard within the camera, Suguru keeping his face directly into the phone as she whined, “It’s already big…”

She probably sounded like a bimbo at this point. Star placed the bottom of her feet beside his legs, placing her hands on his arms, hair falling against her face as she poked her ass upwards, moving her own hips as she dropped down, bouncing as she hiccuped whines from doing so. “So fucking big baby, yes, stretching my pussy—” her voice is high, feminine, dumb. She knew it’d make him more arrogant. She didn't care.

He raises an eyebrow, smirk deadly as he places his hand along her throat, shoving her down to bounce harder as he spoke, “Look at you, bouncing and creaming on my dick like a fuckin’ slut. You look so pretty on camera, baby. Fuckin’ supermodel. Needy ass supermodel,” slapping his palm along the cheek of her face again, knocking her sense down more and more.

His hands move back under her thighs, locking his fingers together as he gains his control back, Star whining louder as he smacks her down onto his hips, a short pain rupturing up her spine, pleasure always overriding it. It felt so good. The camera was now focused on her, his own body not being seen at all, the only other thing being seen was his strong grip on her waist as he’d reply with a breathy tone, “You feel it, baby?” His tip reached for her insides, searching for her soul.

“I feel it,” she cries out, whining like a baby, dropping down onto his hips, gripping for his arm as she pulls it up to her throat, begging for him to squeeze without verbally asking.

He’d chuckle again, shaking his head at her whining, fingers nonetheless tightening around her throat as he added the pressure she wanted. He sees as tears collect in her eyes, mouth drooling as she sniffles out a senseless giggle. His mouth would move up to her throat, panting breathlessly against the area, tongue sticking out as he drags along the skin, “Feel that, doll?”

“I feel everything baby, every single thing,” she gasps, listening as their skin harshly makes contact, “You’re so sweet, baby…giving me what I want…”

“I’ll give you anything you want, doll,“ he’d groan, his hips rocking up to hers as she’d come down onto him, the sound of their bodies slamming together echoing in his ears. He’d groan again, his fingers tightening ever so slightly as he’d mutter breathlessly, “You’re taking me so fuckin’ good. I know I’m stretching you out.“

“Give me more then,” she groans, “Please. Please. I’m begging, baby.”

“You want more?“ He’d chuckle as they continued to rock together, his voice breathless as he’d speak, “How can I say no when you’re begging so nicely?”He’d groan, “You’re gonna have to help me out though, doll.”

“Tell me what to do,” she begs, gasping more than before.

His grip on her neck would loosen as he’d release, moving his fingers down along the center of her chest and towards her stomach, a smirk crossing his mouth as he’d mutter, “Lean back.”

She easily complied, placing her hands along his thighs as she leaned backwards. His hands would slide over her stomach again, his nails leaving light scrape marks along her skin as he’d continue, “Keep your back arched for me, baby. Can you do that? For me?“

She nodded her head, keeping herself more arched, breath shuddering as her hair fell along her eyes. She gasps softly as he takes a hold of her legs, placing them directly on the sides of his head as they were pointing upwards in the air, dropping her down against his hips, dick slamming up to her in a different angle. Her arms shook as she pulled her hips up so they weren’t sitting on his legs, eyes in the back of her head as her body sloppily dragged with him, moaning viciously at his movements.

“You’re such a good girl, Star,” he gruffly tells her, her unruly curls shadowing her eyes. Her plump lips parted as she moaned out, “Such a good girl for you, I promise. I’ll always be your good girl,” she moaned, sounding incredibly insane, she knew that. She still didn’t care.

“Keep talking like that and you’re gonna make me act crazy, baby,“ he’d groan. His mouth came forward, sucking on her nipple before he’d pulled away, a light mark left behind in the place of his mouth.

“You wanna be marked up by me, baby? Leave a couple of tattoos for you?” He asks her.

“Yes,” she whispers, eyes still in the back of her head, “Would love it so much, thank you, baby,” she whimpered, body trembling with every movement he gives her.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,“ he’d groan out, his hands giving her hair a light tug. His eyes would run along her body, biting his bottom lip as he’d mutter breathlessly, “Look at those pretty marks. So pretty all over your skin.”

“Lemme’ give you one, baby,” she begged, “Wanna feel your hair. Love your hair,” she complimented, staring over his beautiful features, the low bun within his hair still attempting to hold up, despite their activity.

He’d chuckle with a groan, smirking at her words before he’d release his grip on her hair, nodding as he’d reply with a breathy tone, “You can touch me, baby. I know you like my hair.” He’d brush a strand of hair from his face, watching her hands as they moved through it, biting down on his bottom lip.

She brought her hands into his dark hair, tugging lightly as she sucked the skin of his neck, eyes rolling as he was still dropping her down roughly along his hips, lips nearly falling off of his skin from the movement.

“You’re so damn talented with your mouth, baby,” he’d groan, the light tug on his hair bringing another groan from his chest. His hands slide along the skin of her abdomen, hips bucking upwards into her as he’d continue to let Star mark him with hickeys, his head falling forward. His breath would waft past her ear, words coming out in a groan as he’d whisper, “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Ruin me,” she gasped deeply, looking into his eyes, “You’re ruining me,” she cried out.

His breath hitches, a groan escaping him again as he’d feel his hips twitching upwards into hers, his expression growing dark as he’d listen to her words. He’d give a chuckle against her skin before biting down on her again as he’d reply with a breathy tone, “I’m gonna make you fuckin’ obsessed.”

“Do you feel good, baby? Please tell me you do,” she begged, kissing his lips softly, feeling her body relaxing in his, taking every movement he gives her.

“Baby, I feel fuckin’ amazing,“ he’d groan, his words being muttered against her lips as he’d slide his tongue into her mouth again, letting it tangle with hers. His hands would once again tangle in her hair, tugging on the dark tresses as he’d pressed her lips harder against his own, his breath wafting out against her face, “I feel so, so good, baby.”

“Gonna make me sore, baby…” she whimpered out, holding onto his hair, whimpers grunting into sobs as he brought them back to their original position, bouncing her up and down.

“I’ll tear your fuckin’ pussy apart,” he grunts out, hips bucking upwards as he’d listen to her whiney tone. He was getting close, it wouldn’t be much longer for him with the way her cries were echoing.

But no. That’s not how he wanted her to finish. He suddenly twisted their positions, his body leaned back against the wall of the bed, her legs now under his as she was facing the opposite of him. Her expression was now directly into the camera. She was almost sitting along his lap from behind, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he angled his dick, pushing it deep back into her, his fist collecting hair as he pulled her back onto him with that leverage, fierce and quick.

Her eyes were to the back of her head, his own expression looking dark as he now held her body against his own from the new angle. His hands would grip her waist, pulling her down onto him as he’d groaned out, his chest rising and falling in heavier huffs as his breath wafted around her shoulder, “Look at you, baby. All pretty and ruined, crying and whining for me. Gonna make you think about me all the time.”

His breath would waft against her skin as he muttered out a low groan, hips meeting hers with powerful thrusts. She was back to crying again, mascara running down her face as her mouth parted open at his thrusts, shocked moans jutting out from her lips, fists tightening along the sheets as she arched her back for him, the angle taking him deeper than before. She was in hell.

“Can’t, Suguru…” she cried out, gasping as she whined, makeup ruined as pleasure raptured along her body. He didn’t stop, continuously pulling her back, her eyes going down as she could only stare at herself in the camera.

“You can, doll,” He’d groan. He then sat himself up, one foot along the bed as he twisted her hair tighter within his hold, tongue running along the skin of her back before biting down on the flesh. His mouth would continue sucking at her skin as he’d groan again, his breath wafting to her ear as he snatched her back, “You don’t have a fuckin’ choice.”

“Babyyyy…” she whined out, looking back at him as he slammed her down onto his hips, crying in insanity for him. She dug her hands into the bed, trying to keep up with him, her mascara ridden face unable to look at her own expression.

His hand would grip tightly onto her hair, holding her in place as he spoke deeply, “Say you like it, doll.”

“I love it. I love it so fuckin’ much,” she continuously whined, keeping her eyes on his that were behind her, her face in her shoulder as she groaned out, shuddering cries against him.

He’d groan again, his nails digging into her skin as he pulled her down onto his hips again, his own moving up into hers as he’d moan his own pleasure against her skin.

“That’s my baby,” he’d tell her, his hands pulling at her hair again, trying to keep her facing the camera, “You look so pretty, baby. So pretty.”

At this point, she could only nod her head, agreeing as her voice was lost, crying softly as she gripped the sheets, trying to keep up with him.

“You’re gonna be mine, baby,“ he’d groan out, his breath wafting into her ear as he’d continue to groan, “You’re gonna be obsessed with me. You’re all mine. Say it. Say it, brat.”

Her eyes were rolled back as if she was possessed, babbling out incoherent sounds as she relaxed beneath him, lazily gripping the sheets, hips moving back and forth by his doing. She groaned softly, “I’m gonna be yours. Obsessed with you. Wanna be yours,” she hiccuped, as crazy as it even sounded.

“That’s my girl,“ his breath wafting once again as his body started to shiver from how close he was, his grip on her hair tightening again, “Say some more. Keep saying it, baby. Say it for me.”

“Gonna belong to you. Gonna think about you. Always think about this moment,” she bites her lip, sniffling as she grunts, “Gonna think about how you handled me. Never gonna forget it,” she promises, voice soft, meaning every word.

He kept his pace going, listening to her words before pulling her head up to kiss at the skin of her shoulder, a grunt of frustration and need as he replied, “Yeah. Look at you,” his hips were starting to stutter. He was close.

“Gonna let me fuck you like this again?” He asks.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” she promised, nodding her head fiercely, feeling as her stomach begins to tremble, his breath along her neck from behind. He chuckled at her repetition.

He pushed her back down along the sheets, keeping her in perfect view of the camera, his sculpted body only showing from below as he pulled out of her, slamming in harshly as he spoke, “Say you’ve never had it this good,” pulling her face up, having her expression directly in the camera.

“N—never had it this good, baby. Never fuckin’ will if it isn’t you,” she grits her teeth, becoming more wet as she digs her fingers into the sheets, slamming her hips back to meet his.

“Damn,” he bites his lip, darkly chuckling, “Say that shit again. Promise me you won’t forget.”

“Won’t fucking forget.”

“I’m gonna make you fuckin’ crazy,” he strokes deeper, one hand holding her hair, the other spanking her ass as she swirls her hips, “Yeah, show me all that shit you were doing at the club.”

She bites her lip, laughing sultrily as she does so, slamming her hips down as she whimpers, “Like that?” It makes him grunt, spanking her painfully as he snatches her hips back, “Just like that. You’re gonna love it here.”

“Fuckin’ love it now,” she bites her lip, grinding her hips, whining them around before dropping them back down against his length.

He’d groan at the drop of her hips, his body shivering as his own hips started to tremble more violently, his hand would release her hair to slide along her body, tracing over small tattoos along her spine as he’d groan, “Tell me you love me, baby. Let me hear you say it, doll.”

This. She knew it sounded insane. She’d just met this man, and maybe they were speaking so crazy to one another because of the moment. But he had successfully completed his mission—her soul was within his palms, and she wasn’t getting it back.

He slammed her hips down onto him, her mouth lightly shouting as she said, “Yeah, yeahhh. I love you and your dick so fuckin’ much, Suguru,” gasping deeply from that.

“Say it again,” he groaned, his own body starting to tremble, his own release nearing as those perfect little words came from her gorgeous little mouth, “Say it more, baby. Let me hear you say it, keep saying it…say it until your damn voice breaks, doll.”

Her voice had broken. She cried out, “Love it. Love you. Yes. Yes. Yes,” through every connection of their hips, her orgasm ripping through her body so harshly that she screamed, keeping her eyes down as she did so. He yanked her face up, forcing her to watch herself release, yanking her back until she could feel him in her stomach. She cried, tears pouring along the sheets of the bed.

He’d chuckle, his hands tugging at her hair again as he’d groan out again, her screams bringing him to his climax as well, hips still rocking into hers as a groan escaped his chest, “That’s my girl…say you’re mine…” he’d groan, his eyes watching intensely at her expression in the recording as she’d cry out his name.

“All yours, Suguru…” she sobbed mercilessly, trembling through her orgasm.

He moaned softly as his own release continued, his breath wafting out in heavy huffs before he’d chuckle again, his head falling forward to rest softly on her shoulder, his own body trembling from the aftermath of his release. He’d groan again as he’d speak, his words muttering lowly in her ear, “That’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

She panted against him, her body nearly going limp within his arms, his strong hands catching her in an instant. He pulled out from her which made her body tense, twisting her around as he grunted, “Give me your mouth,” pushing his tongue past her lips as he kissed her. She relaxed under his mouth—as usual. She then pulled her face down embarrassingly as she pressed it into his chest, whimpering as she couldn’t look at herself in the camera anymore.

Once he’d finally ridden out his own release, his arms would loop around her, holding her in a protective manner in his lap as he’d pressed light kisses along the skin of her shoulder, mumbling softly, “You did so good, baby.”

She whimpered again at his touch, her body sensitive as she pushed her face farther into his chest, embarrassed to even look at him. He’d chuckle again, his hands massaging comforting circles into her skin as he’d pull her chin over, his thumb lifting her face up so she’d look into his eyes as he’d speak, “Don’t get shy on me now, doll. I was finally getting to look at that pretty face.”

“Don’t be mean,” she muttered, face still within his chest, moving into his shoulder.

He’d chuckle as she’d move to his shoulder, placing light kisses along her hair as he’d speak, “I’m just teasing, baby…but damn, you look so pretty when you whine.”

She smacks his arm, feeling that makes him laugh. She let out a breath as she exhaled, “I wanna shower.”

“I think we could use a shower. Clean up the mess you made. Should’ve had your ass squirting and crying—“

“Do you have a damn off button?” She glares up at him.

His laugh grew louder, his body shaking softly as he’d give a small shrug, “Sorry, pretty. I’m always like this, I can’t help it,” tilting his head slightly as he’d add, “You’re gonna have to get used to it.”

“Seems like it, since I sold my soul to you,” she grumbled.

“Don’t make deals with devils then.”

She narrowed her eyes on him, wondering how much of that statement was actually true. But damn, he was fine. She'd have to figure that out another time.

She rolled her eyes, “I’m gonna go feed Kuromi. Meet me in the shower, dick.”

She ignores his chuckle as he smacks her ass on the way out, “You’re gonna have to put ‘Suguru’—or ‘Big-S’, still optional—on the other cheek next!” Ignoring him as she embarrassingly wraps a towel around her body, speeding out of the room to go to the kitchen. She should’ve finished that damn omelet.

She didn’t even realize her phone was still on the wall, nor the fact that she didn’t have it—but Suguru did. Time passed as they were now in the shower together, Star giggling as he trapped her along the wall, desperately kissing her neck. She turned her head, kissing her newfound quest, handprint pressed along the heat of the shower as she moaned, eyes tightly shutting as he slid back into her from behind.

….She also never noticed as her phone had stopped buzzing. The last text was sent from her, after all.

FROM:

star.

TO:

smalldickbitchassmothafucka.

MESSAGE:

*attachment, 1 video*

stop texting. she’s busy.

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