#career change cover letter

[xiaq]

congratulations on your new job! I was wondering whether you had any advice for writing a cover letter, since you mentioned it being impactful in getting your recent job

Here's a copy of the one I used for my actual job! For all the jobs I applied to I looked at the specifics of the position, then mapped the abilities that I have to those specifics in the letter. I didn't dwell on the things I didn't have (degree in Engineering or Computer Science, tech experience), and rather what skills I had that would make me stand out (communications!). If there was something big that I lacked, I'd note it while pointing out how my experiences would help me address that lack (ability to learn new things quickly). For every position that I applied to with a cover letter, I got a response. Even if that response was, hey, I love what you're trying to do but I really can only hire someone with [x experience/degree]. So I think just taking the time to write a cover letter and show you're genuinely interested in a position is a good way to get your foot in the door.

Tl;dr: focus on your skills and how they're applicable/needed/make you uniquely suited for the position. And if there's something significant you lack that must be addressed, state how you plan to address it.

#answered asks #mylife #tech #job things #career change #cover letter

[locria-writes]

bestest most wholesome simp male lead asturias going 🥺 while trying not to cry bc his future gf orders food that's too spicy for him as a way to bully him

#marginally writing related #i can't wait to write their third date that's when he starts going hard on wooing #like my guy tells her all about his finances his career prospects his education his family his exes etc #if it was socially acceptable i think he would've handed in a resume a cover letter and a list of references #but he is a weirdo like what normal person is prepping for the wedding and thinking of how best to deal with finances by the third date #as weird as he is he is a much appreciated and needed change from the usual batshit insane yanderes and pieces of trash i normally write :D

[transformcareer]

Are you among those who are looking for the best career advice then you should consider a Career guidance counselor who helps individuals navigate their career choices and make informed decisions regarding their professional paths? They assist in exploring different industries, identifying educational requirements, and creating strategies for career development.

#career guidance counselor #Career pathways for freshers #interview coaching services #psychometric assessment test #Cognitive tests for jobs #aptitude testing for jobs #Behavioural interview coaching #Mid-life Career change #job and career consultant #career counselor near me #resume and cover letter service near me #verbal aptitude tests #Verbal reasoning tests #youth career counselling #Practice SHL assessments

[transgenderer]

A jitsuin (実印) is an officially registered seal. A registered seal is needed to conduct business and other important or legally binding events. A jitsuin is used when purchasing a vehicle, marrying, or purchasing land, for example.

The size, shape, material, decoration, and lettering style of jitsuin are closely regulated by law. For example, in Hiroshima, a jitsuin is expected to be roughly 1⁄2 to 1 inch (1.3 to 2.5 cm), usually square or (rarely) rectangular but never round, irregular, or oval. It must contain the individual's full family and given name, without abbreviation. The lettering must be red with a white background (shubun), with roughly equal width lines used throughout the name. The font must be one of several based on ancient historical lettering styles found in metal, woodcarving, and so on. Ancient forms of ideographs are commonplace. A red perimeter must entirely surround the name, and there should be no other decoration on the underside (working surface) of the seal. The top and sides (handle) of the seal may be decorated in any fashion from completely undecorated to historical animal motifs, dates, names, and inscriptions.

Throughout Japan, rules governing jitsuin design are very stringent and each design is unique, so the vast majority of people entrust the creation of their jitsuin to a professional, paying upward of US$20 and more often closer to US$100, and using it for decades. People desirous of opening a new chapter in their lives—say, following a divorce, death of a spouse, a long streak of bad luck, or a change in career—will often have a new jitsuin made.

The material is usually a high quality hard stone or, far less frequently, deerhorn, soapstone, or jade. It is sometimes carved by machine. When carved by hand, an intō ("seal-engraving blade"), a mirror, and a small specialized wooden vice are used. An intō is a flat-bladed pencil-sized chisel, usually round or octagonal in cross-section and sometimes wrapped in string to give a better grip. The intō is held vertically in one hand, with the point projecting from the carver's fist on the side opposite the thumb. New, modern intō range in price from less than US$1 to US$100.

The jitsuin are kept in secure places such as bank vaults. or hidden in a home. They are usually stored in thumb-sized rectangular boxes made of cardboard covered with embroidered green fabric outside and red silk or red velvet inside, held closed by a white plastic or deerhorn splinter tied to the lid and passed through a fabric loop attached to the lower half of the box. Because of the superficial resemblance to coffins, they are often called "coffins" in Japanese by enthusiasts and hanko boutiques. The paste is usually stored separately.

A ginkō-in (銀行印) is used specifically for banking; ginkō means "bank". A person's savings account passbook contains an original impression of the ginkō-in alongside a bank employee's seal. Rules for the size and design vary somewhat from bank to bank; generally, they contain a Japanese person's full name. A Westerner may be permitted to use a full family name with or without an abbreviated given name, such as "Smith", "Bill Smith", "W Smith" or "Wm Smith" in place of "William Smith". The lettering can be red or white, in any font, and with artistic decoration.

Since mass-produced ginkō-in offer no security, most people either have them custom-made by professionals or make their own by hand. They were traditionally made of wood or stone; more recently of ivory, plastic or metal, and carried in a variety of thumb-shape and -size cases resembling cloth purses or plastic pencil cases. They are usually hidden carefully in the owner's home.

A mitome-in (認印) is a moderately formal seal typically used for signing for postal deliveries, signing utility bill payments, signing internal company memos, confirming receipt of internal company mail, and other low-security everyday functions.

Mitome-in are commonly stored in low-security, high-utility places such as office desk drawers and in the anteroom (genkan) of a residence.

A mitome-in's form is governed by fewer customs than jitsuin and ginkō-in. However, mitome-in adhere to a handful of strongly observed customs. The size is the attribute most strongly governed by social custom. It is usually not more than 20 millimetres (0.79 in) in size. A man's is usually slightly larger than a woman's, and a junior employee's is always smaller than his bosses' and his senior co-workers', in keeping with office social hierarchy. The mitome-in always has the person's family name and usually does not have the person's given name (shita no namae). Mitome-ins are often round or oval, but square ones are not uncommon, and rectangular ones are not unheard-of; irregular shapes are not used. They can produce red lettering on a blank field (shubun) or the opposite (hakubun). Borderlines around their edges are optional.

Plastic mitome-in in popular Japanese names can be obtained from stationery stores for less than US$1, though ones made from inexpensive stone are also very popular. Inexpensive prefabricated seals are called sanmonban (三文判). Rubber stamps are unacceptable for business purposes.

[55sturn]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SNAP OUT OF IT: CHAPTER 0.01

↳ series masterlist! ↳ main masterlist!

↳ summary: in which y/n receives the news of her life and she feels on top of the world, as if nothing could bring her down, until she meets her dorm mate, rather, until she re-meets him.

↳ pairings: matt sturniolo x fem!reader [eventually, in this chapter, they are not friends]

↳ warnings: swearing, mentions of death, cigarettes, drug usage [weed], alcohol consumption, cocky!matt, flirting, bitchy!reader.

↳ important notes: i’ve been so excited to post this! this is going to be slow burn, and updates will be slow as well while i’m in the process of deciding what i want done with back to december, povs will change regularly between reader’s pov, matt’s pov, and third person pov, each pov is vital to the story and each character’s internal battles throughout the series.

↳ playlist for this series! song below for this chapter below!

READER’S POV

my hands shook as i held the letter that determined whether or not i’d have a chance at landing a job in screenwriting or directing, or literally anything the film industry would give me. landing a spot in this course, was extremely tough. it was only open to twenty five students, and there were thousands of applicants to rifle through each semester. it was a prestigious course, and if you excelled in it, the professor would consider sending out a letter of recommendation to any companies he knew were offering an internship. it was such high demand because the professor had a lot of sway when it came to massive filming and production companies, and would often land one of his students their big break.

but in order to apply, at least three years of training under some sort of local theatre was mandatory, the applicants needed to prove that they understood how screenwriting, production, and set or stage management worked, and there was still more that we needed to cover but those were top three areas of experience this course looked at. each applicant needed to prove that they were completely fit for this course and that they genuinely wanted to pursue a career in this field, and if you didn’t show it well enough, you weren’t even added to the consideration list.

it was a tough spot to land, and i would give anything to land a spot in this course. i had fought tooth and nail throughout all of high school to get grades that proved determination and hard work, the only university i ever had in mind was harvard, and if i didn’t get in, i wouldn’t know what to do with my life.

so here i was, freshly twenty-one, and finally holding the letter that led to the rest of my life, good or bad.

“come on you pussy, open it already.” jocelyn groans, she had been my rock throughout the entire application process. she’s been my best friend since we were six and bonded over having the same pencil case when she moved to boston in first grade. however, she’s been a bit callous to the idea of me being nervous about reading this letter. she was the type that barely scraped in high school, and she had decided pretty early that she didn’t want to go to any college or university. she excelled online and had amounted a huge following.

“joce, i love you but please shut up. this is the most important letter i’ve held in my entire life. i’m scared, what if i don’t get in?”

“please bitch, you’ve worked harder than anyone i know, i’m sure you’re going to get in.”

“thanks joce, but i genuinely don’t trust your judgement after the last guy you hooked up with. so i am going to take a shot and then open it.” i laugh, walking over to the cupboard above the fridge, grabbing the bottle of tequila we had bought in preparation for this very moment. i also grabbed two shot glasses from the mini bar-cart we had beside the fridge of our shared apartment, and began pouring a shot for the both of us.

“oh my fucking god. oh my fucking god!” she gasps from behind me, making quickly turn around, only to see that she held the open letter in her hands.

“what?”

“you fucking got in!” she exclaims, causing goosebumps to rise along my skin as i stand and watch her eyes dart back and forth along the page, reading the words aloud.

“dear miss l/n, i am pleased to inform you that the committee on Film and Visual Studies has voted to offer you a place in the Harvard class of 2025. dude you did it!” she beams, her voice full of pride and excitement, causing tears to well along my waterline as i stare at her.

“oh my fucking god, i did it.” i sob, feeling genuinely accomplished for the first time in my life.

“however it does say that the only available dorm situation is co-ed, since you had applied for on-campus living.”

“that’s fine with me honestly.” i shrug, wiping the tears, unable to rid my face of the smile that resides on it.

“alright, let’s take some shots and then start packing the rest of your shit. i can’t believe i’ll be living without for so long, i can finally walk around naked.” she hums, wrapping her arms around my shoulders as i sigh, my arms winding tightly around her waist.

i let out a loud laugh as i grab the bottle of tequila, followed by the two full shot glasses, sliding jocelyn hers as i stare at her.

“you’re acting as if you don’t already do that.”

“touché, however, here’s to my bitch starting her dream career.”

the next few days blew by in a blur as jocelyn and i finished packing everything i wanted to take. she was going to help take my stuff from boston to cambridge. the eight hour drive was going to be brutal, but it was completely doable, especially know that she’d be along the way. instead of driving sixteen hours total, she was going to spend the first night with me, she also wanted to scope out my dorm mate to make sure they’re not a total freak.

“i can’t believe i leave tomorrow.” i sigh, resting my head on jocelyn’s shoulder, the two of sitting on our balcony while she puffed her joint. jocelyn stifles a laugh before straightening out her expression, and turning to me.

“your mom would be so proud of you.” she says, her face blank as the absurd comment leaves her mouth.

“as fucking if.” i snort, rolling my eyes, taking the joint from her fingers, taking a small hit as she laughs.

“she’d probably ask why it took so long to get a response and then tell you that you didn’t try hard enough and that your acceptance letter was a pity letter.”

“probably.” i whisper, handing the joint back to her as i watch the setting sun, feeling a strong tinge of hurt swelling in my chest at the mention of my mom.

her and i never really had a steady relationship, when i was younger she was never really around, she was a big part of the film industry, quite the requested screenwriter, and was always in high demand which meant she didn’t take time to nurture me.

when she was alive and around more during my high school days after she was forced to retire from the spotlight due to her cancer, she was constantly berating me, the high ninety grades and constant participation in local theatre was never good enough. she always said i wasn’t shooting high enough. but she fell deathly ill my senior year, and that was a rough patch for us. i had snapped and told her that i hope she regrets the way she’s treated my entire life, and that i won’t be found at her deathbed. but when that time came, i was the first one to hold her hand and tell her i love her, but the reply never came from her, she just stared at the wall blankly until her boyfriend showed up and then suddenly she was lively as she could be while dying.

but i’ve moved on from that year, and it took a long time and shit ton of therapy to realize that i was never going to be the daughter she wanted, but my dad and my step-mother, melissa, have been as supportive as they could. they’ve been with melissa’s mom in maine for the last two months, helping her with everything after her husband’s passing.

i sigh again as i look at jocelyn, leaning my head back on her shoulder.

“we should probably head back to bed, we’ve got a long ass drive tomorrow.”

“yeah, wanna eat some ice cream first?”

“sure.”

after our ice cream, we finally crashed, both of us only getting about four hours of sleep after having to wake up at nearly six in the morning. we quickly got dressed, and grabbing the last few bags and boxes that needed to be packed into the car before leaving to grab food and drinks. after that, we finally started on our way to cambridge.

the drive was full of numerous stops, causing to get at the dorms around four in the afternoon.

“alright you stay with the cars while i go to the admissions centre and grab my key and i’ll go unlock the door and then we can start.” i hum in joce’s direction through her open window, grabbing my bag off the front passenger’s seat while jocelyn nods, climbing out, and stretching.

“i hope you get a hot roommate, you need a boyfriend.” she calls out, rolling my eyes, and flipping her off.

“i’m walking away i cant hear you!” i call back, following the signs that direct me toward to admissions office, as i enter i nervously approach the lady at the front.

“hi i’m here to pick up my dorm keys, room 496, y/n l/n.”

“here you go! so you’ll want to turn right, then take two lefts and follow the numbered plaques on the wall to the co-ed section of the dorms! and lastly, welcome to harvard!” the older woman chirps, flashing a warm smile that eases my nerves just the tiniest bit as i begin following the directions that she had called out.

as i reach my door, i fish the key from my pocket, quickly shoving it into the keyhole, wanting to get into my dorm as quick as possible. as i’m about to turn the knob, someone clear their throat from behind me, causing me to turn around. and once i meet the eyes of the person standing behind me, i immediately wish that the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

“what the fuck are you doing here?”

“this is my dorm?” he coughs, making my skin crawl at the idea of sharing a dorm for a year with the one person that i genuinely wish didn’t exist in my life.

“there’s no way in hell i’m sharing a dorm with you, matt.”

↳ taglist: @dylsdunbar @verosivy @florcult @33sturniolo @greatooglymooglyyy @sugrhigh @rootbeerworshiper @soursturniolo @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @themattgirl @lovingmattysposts @lacysturniolo @freshloveee @fawnchives @cindylcuwho @freshloveforthefit @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword @lustfulslxt @sturnifyed @teapartyprincess4two @mangosrar @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @hearts4chris @evie-sturns @nicksmainbitch @gnxosblog @sturniolopepsi @wronqness99 @sturniolossss @hesvoid3434 @mattsfavwh3re @inlovewithmattstur @melanch0lybby @whatrulookingat11

© 55STURN 2024 ! REBLOGS NOT EXPECTED BUT GREATLY APPRECIATED ! [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

#spotify #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo imagine #dark academia #dark acadamia aesthetic #indie aesthetic #enemies to lovers #rivals to lovers #academic rivals to lovers

[anantaru]

— they‘re reading thirst tweets (celebrity au!)

including alhaitham, kazuha, scaramouche, venti x gn! reader

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — i wrote this after watching the jackson wang and wonho thirst tweets video

— ꒰ genre ꒱ — crack, modern au!, celebrity au!

— alhaitham

the cameras change focus, lights on, 3.. 2.. 1..

in unlimited disbelief, alhaitham delicately held onto the little card he received from the camera crew— which was currently overlooking the interview he was in, as he attentively read through the letters on the paper with a careful uttering.

from @/milkboobielover69:

"i want alhaitham to suffocate me with his huge humongous tits."

at his words, the team of the late night segment— that was hosting the little shift, began to loudly permeate the room with their contagious laughs while alhaitham made severe attempts to cease his upcoming, flustered smirk.

"wow, this is turning into quite an occasion." he speaks in a monotone voice while his porcelain skin was saturated with a brilliant shade of red.

while his conveyance remained as usual, his instinctive body reactions had exposed him to the lens directly pointing at his face.

"i assume you don't mind if i question your username?"

he's facing the camera with his infamous, habitual smile, a brow lightly raised to further gather his thoughts, "it is quite, interesting, if you ask me."

frankly, at first, alhaitham couldn't believe he even agreed to do this, in his words, 'redundant arrangement'.

or that his manager put out said proposal in the first place— yet he acknowledged that it was altogether gravely important to embrace and further strengthen the connection he had built with his fanbase.

"are you all like this?" he asked, wholly amused, "because it is crucial for me to know before we execute that little plan of yours."

with a wink he ends his sentence, his eyes pointing straight to the main camera before playfully shaking his head— as to try to get rid of his flustered cheeks, gathering the next question soon after.

— kazuha

hello everyone, you may recognize me as kazuha from 6reeze and I'll be reading your thirst tweets tonight!

with an authentic greet towards the flashy cameras, kazuha decided to get on with his current performance right away, seeing this particular meeting as nothing more than an exchange of dialogue to further intensify his public relations.

"perhaps i should start with this one."

kazuha was excitingly leaving his pretty eyes roam over the little smartphone he held in his palm, gently scrolling over the numerous tweets the late night staff had specifically hand picked out for him.

from @/peepeeconnoisseur:

"kazuha gives serious hidden dom energy and i want him to ruin me."

at the tip of his issuing, he so soon had began to snicker into the transitioning lens, hiding his growing embarrassment with his hand and dramatically pressing it on top of his face to cover his eyes.

"compared to what i have encountered before-" he rapidly cut himself off, eyes widened in his own foolishness— the last he’d wish now was to accidentally air something personal out.

lightheartedly, kazuha carried on to rub his blurry eyes, in a powerless aim to cover his dazed look and tracks.

the fact that thousands of people were currently watching this right now didn't make it any easier nor turned the task somehow into simplicity, but to keep himself mustered and well collected was one of the very utensils he had been practicing on his entire career.

to have himself speak clearly he was coughing out, setting his attention back down to the phone in his hand, "i must admit, this is really quite tame."

the unexpected blows of laughs and convulsing titters packed the room with a genuine, hilarious response as one of the many staff members spoke out in a saddened voice.

"man, i really thought i'd get you with that one." the woman was crossing her arms around her body and frowned.

"if it was one of my band members i'm certain you would've stirred them off their footing." - "though some you might've flattered even."

the assurance was enough for him to almost completely forget the tweet he had read a couple moments ago.

though after the room went quiet again, kazuha decided to express himself on the topic just one last time, peering up to be to the core set in frame by the several cameras.

"all i have to add is that i am a man of hardly any words, i prefer to show off my skills instead."

— scaramouche

"you better not hold back with whatever we're doing here or you're wasting my precious time." ...

... "not my fans though, they're all important to me or whatever."

the blows and beats of irksome cameras and ring lights being shoved left and right towards their designated area had rigorously bothered scaramouche, who was, at present, situated on a cozy white chair with a couple cards in his hands, lazily leaning onto the armrest.

3.. 2.. 1..

... we're beginning now, massive apologies for the delay ... take one!

hello *rolls his eyes* i'm scaramouche from 6reeze and I'm forced to read your thirst tweets tonight ...

... you better have something good in store for me or I'll have to punish you in some unknown way.

instantaneously, scaramouche broke out of his established, not to mention unduly recognized, personality as he approached a quite nicer (in his own way) outlook for the cameras piloting on him.

after all, he was very much aware of how exasperating the media could turn out whenever he wouldn't control his disinterest in maintaining his public persona.

besides, the last setting he‘d need is for his band member kazuha to lecture him about the whole engage and its significant importance.

from @/http_scaranuts:

"i want scara to fucking spit in my mouth."

the way his body responded on its own was hysterically funny, "why would you want that?" in spite of the fact that he faked his disgust, his guise was revealing a different story.

his sides were splitting into an entertained smirk and not even seeking any effort whatsoever to hide his pleased smile.

he was engaging, almost hypnotizing, and managed to plant a significant impression onto many, which is what his fans idolized about him the utmost.

how downright blunt he was at times, mixed with a bewitching sweetness, a blazing firestorm that was able turn the whole music industry upside down.

scaramouche delightfully clicked his tongue— terrifically composed with an unchanging face.

"i'm barely two sentences into this and you already want me to spit on you."

with a little gesture, he finely brushed his hair strands back that were unkemptly falling all over his face, "how amusing."

"ultimately i'm going to give you a pass for the distasteful username though." he's innocently fluttering his eyelashes before blowing a quick kiss at the cameras, "so so sorry."

thus, scaramouche was carelessly flinging the little card back and tossing it onto the floor, already skimming through the next tweet.

— venti

the video established itself as the camera slowly shifted their focus on venti who was currently sitting in front of a white background, a couple stickers in his hands that had the late night logo inprinted on top of it.

"i didn‘t think anyone would write thirst tweets about me."

he‘s joking and setting up a pseudo guiltless attitude, as if he didn’t see a couple of those while curiously scanning through his notifications the other day.

but, well, to keep his performance going, he playfully waved at the camera and began to regret the fact that he had washed the rational thinking parts of his brain away with alcohol earlier.

venti always appeared wildly comfortable around the large screens and bright flashes of the studio room— essentially he was also known as one of the most talented as well as best performers of his entire group.

.. but maybe it was also due to the fact that he was mostly drunk, yet obviously not exposing it to his fans.

his eyes were now, a tone lower, when he glowered into the first of many cards, without further ado vividly brawling to keep his own poker face.

from @/l3t_thewindlead_thisp3nis:

"(i am not okay) if venti needs a stress reliever i volunteer as tribute."

subsidiary after prattling it out, venti narrowed his eyes towards the screen with a concerned look on his face before ultimately concealing his expression with the little card.

".. a stress reliever?" he asks, bluntly, before setting off the whole room to infectiously laugh.

venti himself nearly erupted into tears from how hard he’d been chuckling at the tweet.

"tsk tsk tsk." he‘s shaking his head with a sigh— as if he was disappointed, and carrying on with his high spirited words.

"a shame, i really thought you would elaborate on that a bit more."

giggling at his own remarks he instantaneously got reminded (by a staff member) to keep it as family friendly as attainable as to not suffer the brutish fate of his manager scolding him afterwards.

the cameras cut and set on a different frame, recording back again.

perhaps it wasn‘t the most brilliant idea to have venti go into this without a single form of preparation— nor a script he could base his answers on.

though beyond anything, he was a natural ar this and managed to engage the viewers with his quite peculiar charms.

"i‘ll leave that for now but i‘m coming back to you later."

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin x you #scaramouche x you #venti x reader #alhaitham x you #kazuha x you #venti x you #al haitham x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin x y/n #genshin impact fan fiction #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #genshin impact images

[selfishdoll]

NOW PLAYING…. LOTUS FLOWER BOMB

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ Can I be with you just one night? I could wear you out inside | I could tell you like persistence, but I make you cum in tri's

DEAL ! ft. martial artist! kashimo hajime

SUMMARY. being saddled with tutoring the stubborn martial artist was bad enough, him learning you had the hots for him was even worse. but of course, you decide to use this to your advantage. and he is more then happy to partake in your little game. ━━ ★

CW. ooc kashimo, modern au (you two are college students, same age), reader with glasses (self indulgent asf), porn w/o plot, slight degradation, praise kink, lowkey soft dom kashimo, pet names (sweet girl, princess, baby, good bye, etc), kashimo & reader teasing each other, unprotected sex, bets, creampies, frenemies(?) to lovers, reader is black (obviously), multiple orgasms, etc. ━━ ★

NOTE. i got this idea randomly & it’s been a while since i’ve written for my man so here we are. unedited, please excuse typos & grammar mistakes. ━━ ★

Being the smart kid had as many disadvantages as it did perks. People flocked to you, not for friendship; but rather to feed off you. Using you to get good grades, notes, and then discarding you later. It hurt you at first, but now, you couldn’t care less. Now that you were an adult in college you gained a shiny spine, immediately saying no when someone approached you for help. You didn’t care if you came off as bitchy or stuck up, you refused to put your school career in jeopardy just for a bunch of strangers.

Which left you with a small group of friends, but hey— big groups didn’t work out anyway.

You carried this thought process all the way to junior year, your teachers used to it by now. No amount of begging from them or a student’s behalf changed your mind. Until, your beloved biology teacher reached out to you.

See, you took the class around your sophomore year of college, and the two of you clicked instantly. Something about being one of the few other black woman among the faculty and student body really drew you close together. If she asked for something, you were more than happy to oblige. Which, she knew all too well.

So when she called you into her classroom one day you weren’t surprised— until you noticed the tall, cyan colored hair man standing infront of her desk. The moment you stepped in she was all smiles, buttering you up before delivering the punch line:

“Could you tutor Kashimo Hajime please?” Her tone was soft, wavering on desperate. She watched as the annoyance covered your features, her scrambling a bit. “One more bad grade and he loses his scholarship. You know I wouldn’t normally ask this of you, but he’s a good student— I swear.”

“If he was so good, he wouldn’t be failing.” You murmured under your breath, eyes darting to the side to spot the man already staring at you. A grin in place. You wouldn’t find anything funny about this situation if you were him, but again— you weren’t and never would be. “Come on, Ms. Wells; you know I can’t stand tutoring people. Besides, I took this class last year.”

“And you were my best student.” She mused, buttering you up once more. A soft sigh escaped the older woman, leaning against her desk. “Look. Do this for me and I’ll write you the best damn recommendation letter you’ve ever seen. Okay?”

You thought it over, wondering if you really wanted to subject yourself to a whole week and a half of tutoring for someone who probably couldn’t care less. But, you really wanted that letter and you had to admit you had a soft spot for your previous teacher. So with a reluctant sigh you nodded, turning to face Kashimo who did the same.

“But if you still fail, it will not be my fault.”

“Of course.” He spoke cooly, smiling down at you.

You wondered if Ms. Wells was lying. If she was held at gunpoint to say he was a good student. He was far from it. Not only was he stubborn, Kashimo got disinterested in the material quickly; moving on to scrolling on his phone or attempting to watch something on your television. Even hitting on you, which you shut down— with minor hesitation. You couldn’t blame yourself, as annoying as he was; he was easy on the eyes and ears.

Today was Wednesday, meaning Kashimo only had four days until the test. And by the looks of it, he wouldn’t be passing it. The man wasn’t stupid, he just didn’t want to sit still and do the work. He was far too rambunctious.

You snatched the phone out of his hand for about the third time that day, placing it on the desk behind you. “You’re wasting mine and your time, Kashimo. Could you please focus on the studying?” You grumbled, adjusting your black rimmed glasses on your face. Kashimo leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “If that’s the case just kick me out, you have no obligation to tutor me.”

“Ms. Wells asked me to.” You spoke, breathing softly and slowly blinking. You then turned to the sheet on your desk, scribbling something on the page. “Plus it’s called human decency and empathy, I want to help you.”

“That or you want to fuck me.”

You released a choked scoff, eyes wide as your eyebrows rose. You whipped around to face him, Kashimo sporting a cocky grin. “Really? You really think so?”

“I know so.” Kashimo shrugged as if it was obvious, leaning forward and resting his elbows onto his thighs; heavy, hot gaze trailing up and down your body. Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes, pressing his chin into a palm. “Because.. I’m able to tell when someone wants to fight or fuck me.”

“Oh, those are the only two options?”

“The only ones that matter.” He responded quickly, grinning at the way your pressed your lips together. You didn’t expect to be found out, seeing as you tried to be discreet with the glances you took at his strong arms and his crotch whenever he wore those damned grey sweatpants. You breathed softly, eyes darting elsewhere as you grabbed the middle of your glasses, rubbing the space between your eyes. “Mkay.. maybe you’re right; maybe I allowed my eyes to linger for far too long—“ Your breath hitched as you felt his hand fall to the bottom of your chair, pulling you closer while the other gently grabbed your calf. Before it could travel up you rose your leg, pressing it against his stomach.

“— But, the two aren’t mutually exclusive; I still want you to pass.” You spoke slowly, ignoring the way his fingers slowly caressed your leg. Kashimo chuckled softly to himself, leaning back in his chair and allowing your foot to slide down his body into his lap. “Okay.. how about we make a deal?”

“I’m listening..”

“You tutor me as hard as you like and if I pass— well..” The man dragged on, using a hand to cover the little smirk pulling his lips. You got the gist however, sucking in a small breath as you slowly nodded. You scooted a bit closer, “But that means, you have to get an A.”

Kashimo blinked at your words, eyes snapping back to your face with a bewildered expression. It was your turn to grin, reaching over his shoulder to curl a piece of his hair between your fingers. “I can tutor you as hard as I like, remember? Get an A, and you’ll get a reward. Deal?” You tilted your head, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

Kashimo licked his lips a bit, mimicking your smile. “Deal.”

“Good boy. Now get the hell out of my dorm so I can get some sleep.

Much to surprise, Kashimo’s entire attitude seemed to change over night. He was listening to each piece of material you threw at him, getting a few questions wrong but paying attention otherwise. It made you a little warm inside, and happy he was actually listening. Even if it was just to get in your pants which you— truly didn’t mind. The feeling was mutual after all.

Sunday night the night before the test, you offered him a break which Kashimo refused, stating he’ll be fine to take it in the morning. You got a little worried especially from how early her class was so you offered him to sleep in your dorm. Much to his, and your own surprise.

“Oh, don’t break your part of the deal now..”

“Don’t be gross, like I said— human decency.”

That night was a little awkward, having another person in your room on the floor— especially someone you were pinning for. You desperately tried to sleep the thought away, turning over to lay on your stomach and cuddling your pillow. Which helped, seeing as you drifted moments later, waking up when you heard movement in your room.

“Leaving?”

“Yeah. Class starts in about twenty minutes.” Kashimo called to you in the darkness. You soon felt him near your bed, giving you the opportunity to gently caress his arm. “Good luck on the test.”

“Mhm.” You shivered as his warm hand suddenly brushed your bare shoulder, leaning close to your face. “Get some rest.. you’ll need it.” Your eyes went wide at his words, slowly sitting up to watch him exit your dorm.

Well, now you couldn’t go back to sleep.

You got up shortly after the man left, taking a shower and throwing on some jeans and a shirt while heading to your own classes. Kashimo was pushed to the back of your mind, giving it may take Ms. Wells a day or so to get through grading all the papers. And while you hate to admit it, as much as you wanted to be wrong— he probably still failed. A harsh thought, but it was probably true.

Your classes ended as normal, already back in your dorm by about four in the afternoon. You stripped yourself of your outside clothes, pulling on some random juicy couture shorts and a tank top. You laid across your bed, switching to a random show; flipping between watching and glancing at your phone. You had sent the man a text message around the time his class should have ended and to your dismay, he didn’t answer. Even if he couldn’t get the grade tonight, you wanted to at least gauge how he felt about it.

Pursing your lips, you turned off your phone and pushed it to the corner of your bed, laying your cheek against your pillow. Your eyes remained glued to the television for about several hours, eyes blinking as you wondered whether to turn in for the night or not. That thought left the minute you heard knocking on your door however.

You flipped your phone, glaring at the time which read 9:30 p.m. You grumbled softly in annoyance, rising from your bed and sliding off it. Waltzing over to the door, you opened it to reveal Kashimo Hajime standing in all his glory. A large grin on his face. Your heart dropped to your stomach, watching him raise his hand to showcase the piece of paper he was holding. You silently took it, flipping it around to glance it over and spotting the big fat 100% glaring back at you.

“Oh.”

“Oh..” Kashimo mocked you softly, pushing into the room. He watched with interest as you backed away, eyes remaining on you as he closed and locked the door behind him. He reached over, grabbing your wrist with one hand and your cheeks with the other. “Looks like I get my reward.” The words came out whispered, leaning down and planting his lips on your own. Your eyes shut instantly, his test dropping to the floor as your hands rose to his hair. Your fingers curled in the cyan-colored tresses, moaning softly as his gently bit your bottom lip to shove his tongue into your mouth. The two appendages played and curled with each other, whilst his hands fell to your ass, gripping the warm flesh for a moment before lifting you easily— pushing forward to place you onto the bed.

Kashimo pulled back, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. “Bet you were thinking of this all day.. waiting for me to come and fuck you.” He spoke on bated breath, hand sliding up your body to gently grab your throat. The man chuckled softly as you shook your head, using his other hand to pull your glasses off your face delicately, turning to place it off to the side. “You’re a shitty liar, [Name].” Hajime pushed you further up on the bed, hovering over your body as he attached his lips back to your own. A hand was pressed beside your head while the other flicked down the top of your loose tank top, exposing your breasts to him.

He trailed his kisses down from your face to your throat and finally breasts, using a hand to squeeze one while his mouth wrapped around the other nipple. You gasped softly as the pleasure swirled within you, head leaning back against the back as your hips rose. Kashimo grinned against your chest, pushing a knee up between your thighs, chuckling at the way you instantly began to grind against it. His teeth gently raked your sensitive skin, sucking and licking the bud raw to hear you shudder and moan. Kashimo pressed his leg up harsher, slowly rolling his knee, feeling your wetness seep through your thin shorts and slowly dampen his pants. The man pulled back, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

“Oh, you’re already so wet and I’ve barely touched you. Needy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Hajime.. stop teasin’ me.”

The martial artist hummed to himself, gently pinching the raw bud to watch you gasp. “I’ll do what I want. Better yet, I could leave you here yearning for my touch— possibly get my reward at a later date.” The moment he pulled his leg away you were whining, reaching to grab at his shirt. Hajime grinned down at you, leaning close and allowing his leg to press against your center once again. “Then lay here and take what I give you like a good girl.”

Sucking kisses into your dark mocha skin, your hips as you ground against his muscular leg, feeling him flex the appendage every once in a while. It felt far too good to simply just be dry humping, your head leaning back as your clutched his shirt in your hands. You gasped out as he bit your neck, sucking harshly— the action enough to push you over the edge. A whine escaped you as you came, ruining your panties and shorts completely.

Hajime pulled back with a grin, resting on his hutches and pushing your thighs. “Still can’t believe you got off just from my thigh…” The man teased softly, hooking his fingers on your shorts and panties, dragging them down your body. Before he could do anything else you were pushing your legs together, causing his heated gaze to snap to your face.

“Take your shirt off.” You spoke, watching the man tilt his head with a little grin. He leaned over you once again, caressing your exposed stomach slowly.

“You want it off, take it off yourself.”

You gently bit your lip but obeyed, reaching over and slowly pulling his shirt up and off his body; warmth flooding you as you glanced over his form. He certainly had the build of a martial artist, sculpted but not disgustingly so— just right. Your hand smoothed down his toned stomach, feeling it contract when you got closer to the waistband of his pants. Your breath hitched a little when he grasped your wrist, eyes snapping back to his face.

“Focus up here, sweetheart.” Hajime spoke, releasing your hand to slowly descend down your body. Your eyes widened, watching as pushed your legs wider, revealing the prize between them. You shifted under his gaze, gripping your shirt and yelping the moment he pinched the inside of your thigh. “Quit movin’.” The man spoke, leaning down. He used to fingers to slide your slick folds, pressing a kiss against your swollen clit. The foreign feeling caused you to twitch, hand falling to the bed and gasping the moment you felt his tongue glide across you.

“Hajime..”

“Relax, princess. Just relax for me..” He murmured against you, gently taking your clit into your mouth. He began to suck, throwing a hand across your hips to keep them against the bed. Your legs widened, mouth hung open as soft moans escaped you. You gripped your sheets the moment you felt two fingers slowly push inside you, scissoring and thrusting into your soft entrance.

Your moans grew louder, hands falling to his hair and gripping; looking for leverage. The pleasure took over your senses, eyes pinched close as you struggled against his heavy arm, pushing your pussy into his face more. His tongue was wicked, circling your swollen bud, dragging up and down your slit, lathering you in saliva. Kashimo’s fingers weren’t any better, trusting into you, pushing against your spongy walls and reaching deeper then your own fingers could.

Soft smacks and groans escaped from between your legs, moans now pitching as your toes curled from the pleasure. You panted, walls clenching around his fingers as your peak grew closer and closer. The man seemed to notice, withdrawing his fingers from you and pulling away from your clit. You nearly whined if it wasn’t for his warm, thick appendage driving into you; hand moving to allow his thumb to circle your bud.

“Ha—haji.. Mmm—!” Little tears treated to spill from your eyes, palms hurting from your tightly you were gripping his hair. The martial artist tongue fucked you relentlessly, the pace of his thumb quickening. Moments passed before your back rose up off the bed, making a mess all over his face and under you, arousal trailing down to your taint.

Your body shook, panting heavily as you felt him remove himself from between your legs. Through your hazy vision you watched him lean over your body, warming as his hands cradled your throat and skull; leaning down to plant your lips together. You held onto his arm, eyes closed as your returned the kiss, delving on your taste from his mouth.

“So good, princess.. so good for me.” Kashimo breathed against your lips, planting a few more kisses against your bruised lips, pulling back to glance at you. He grinned to himself, enamored by the display before him. Your edges a mess, braids sprawled out around your head while your chest rose and fall heavily, lips slick with his salvia and your mess; pouted and used. Hajime’s thumb caressed your throat, curling his fingers between the parts of your hair. “You want more, sweet girl?”

The moment you nodded the man’s grin was falling, gently clenching his fingers around your neck. “Words. Use your words.”

Your body went hot, eyes trailing away from his features. “Haji..” Your cunt clenched the minute his hold on your neck tightened just a bit, urging your eyes back to his face. “I asked for words, not my name.” The man leaned down, forehead pressed against your own. “Unless you want me to leave you here, a needy— desperate mess.”

The thought alone had you whining, shaking your head once again to which the man urged you once again. Biting the inside of your cheek, your hands dragged up his back to his shoulders, blinking up at him. “Please Haji.. I need you.” As much as you wanted to kick yourself for such a pathetic display, the thought melted the moment he came close, pressing a kiss to your lips and whispering good girl.

Kashimo released your throat to push his sweats and boxers down, revealing his length to you. It was heavy, a lighter shade then him with a bulbous red tip. You bit the inside of your cheek the moment you realized it ended just below your navel, shivering at the thought it splitting you open.

He grabbed the underside of your thighs, pushing them up and open as he crowded in close, lining his dick up with your entrance. Pushing in slowly, the man cooed as you whined— releasing a leg to gently caress your side. “Mm.. relax baby.. that’s it— let me take care of you.” Hajime watched the way your walls clenched him as he sunk in deeper, having half a mind to fuck you into the mattress right then and there. But for once, he decided to be patient.

Soon enough Kashimo was all the way in, shuddering as your clenched— adjusting to his size. The stretch burned of course, eyes pinched closed as you remained still. The pain melted away however, breathing as you moved your hips, eyes opening as the pleasure ran down your spine. The soft moan that escaped you was enough, watching as the man dragged his hips back before pushing back inside— the two of you gasping.

His hands found purchase on your hips, immediately setting a rough and fast pace inside you; drilling you into the bed. Under his mercy you moaned, pretty acrylics digging into his back as your legs shook around his form. With his weight placed behind each thrust you could barely breathe let alone think, pleasure consuming you whole. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your skull, lost completely— ruined.

Kashimo enjoyed each expression each sound, dedicating to memory. He couldn’t care less if someone else in the dorm heard— even swearing he heard knocks against the wall above them. He wanted them to head; wanted them hear his name fall from your lips so sweetly. The man leaned down, softly mocking your moans with the sickest grin. “Feels good baby? Yeah— wanted this the moment you met me, didn’t you?” The man questioned, grunting the moment he felt your walls clench from his words.

“Haji, Haji— Fuck!” Your words dragged, speech muddled as he continued to fuck you as if he would die without it. He was pushing you wide, cock digging deep inside and brushing against spots you didn’t even know existed— angling his hips just right to hear you squeal from the pleasure.

“I know baby, I know— feels good for Haji too.. fuck..” His eyelids were heavy, thumbs digging into your plump flesh as he fucked you with all his might. The bed rocked from the force, headboard slamming against the wall for a moment before Kashimo reached over; gripping it tightly while continuing to drill into you. The moment you noticed it, you were pushed over the edge; creaming all over his length while a loud cry of his name escaped you. The man grinned down at you, pulling your leg over your shoulder, somehow moving deeper inside you.

“One more princess, fuck—“

You shook your head, clenching him so tightly as the oversensitivity flooded your body. You felt him release your hip to gently grab your throat, coming close once again. “Come on, I know you got it in you, pretty girl— be good for me.” No matter how much your body ached with exhaustion, how your messy cunt clenched and pulsed tiredly around him— you ignored it all, wrapping your hand around his wrist and rising up to kiss him.

Kashimo grinned against you, bruising pace continuing inside you, head brushing against your cervix with each thrust. The pleasure quickly overshadowed the pain, his hand falling from your throat to rub tight, fast circles against your wet, swollen bud. Your stomach clenched, fucked completely dumb to the point his name came out in incoherent babbles and cries.

Moments of this continued before his breathing got heavier, eyebrows pinched close as his thrusts got a little uncoordinated. He gripped the headboard harshly, harsh swears escaping him as he rocked into you. “Fuckkk.. you want me inside baby? Want me to pump you full?”

“Yes, yes! Wa—want it inside, Haji—“

Hajime smiled down at you, leaning close to kiss you once again muttering a soft of course, against your swollen lips. He drove himself deep, hips stilling as he painted your walls white. That was enough for you, walls milking him dry as you came; moaning into his mouth.

His thrusts slowed to slow gyrates, hand raising to your skull against to slowly massage your scalp. The man soon pulled away, your combined pants fanning against the other’s face. Kashimo’s hand fell to your cheek, caressing it gently and smiling at the way you tiredly leaned into it.

“Best tutor ever.” Kashimo teased, chuckling softly at the way you playfully glared at him.

#mani writes ━━ ★ #mechahrt #mdni #jjk x black reader #black!reader #hajime kashimo #hajime kashimo x black!reader #hajime kashimo x reader #jjk smut #jjk x fem!reader #jjk hajime kashimo #modern au #jjk #jjk x black!reader #jjk x chubby reader #jjk x curvy reader #jjk x poc!reader

[skipper1331]

Love from afar // Jessie Fleming

a/n: based off this request. I hope you like it!

Studying in a foreign country was difficult, you had to leave your home, your comfort zone. You didn't know anyone, you didn't know your surroundings, everything was just so different. It scared you and the first few months were hell but when you met the football team it got better. You started to feel comfortable, even meeting up with them. They became your friends. And then there was Jessie. The sweet canadian whose face was covered in freckles. She was by far the person you felt most comfortable around. With her calm nature she broke down your walls and crept her way into your heart. She was more than a friend. When you were around her, your heart would race, every touch would make you weak and every smile would follow you in to your dreams. Each day became more bearable when she was there. She reminded you early on when you had to turn a paper in, she went through your checklist for away games and she would ask if you called your family.

She was your anchor in the sea.

You fell in love with, how couldn‘t you? She was more than perfect. Every goal you scored was dedicated to her, you even had a special celebration that was only dedicated to her (she didn't know that though). The two of you were inseparable, for other eyes you were just best friends, towards each other you were best friends but secretly you both wanted more.

At some point during your time at UCLA you wanted to tell her. You wanted to tell her that you‘re in love with her yet you never did so you loved from afar.

After you graduated, the canadian moved to London, having the opportunity to play for Chelsea while you transeferred to Eintracht Frankfurt.

Jess had already left the country before you even got the chance to say goodbye to her but she left you something. She couldn‘t just leave you.

It was at your last day at UCLA when a mutual friend of yours handed you a box. "What‘s that?" you asked, the box kind of heavy. "Open it when you‘re alone"

"Okay?" Confusion was written on your face.

Finally, finding some free time you opened the box. The first thing you saw was an envelope with your name on it. Jessies handwriting.

My dearest y/n,

First of all, I want to apologize for not saying goodbye to you in person but it would have been too difficult. My heart couldn't have taken it. When you're reading this, I'm probably in the plane or have landed in England already.

I want you to know that it was my greatest honor to play alongside you. You are a wonderful person and I wish nothing but the best for you. (Ha. Adele reference, I know she’s your favorite.)

Under this letter are 6 journals. They are all fully prepared, all you have to do is tick the boxes If you’ve done one of your tasks, write down the date and score. I know you don‘t like changes so I thought this might help you.

Go smash it in Germany! You can do it.

I‘ll love you from afar.

May we meet again. (the 100 reference, your favorite show. I know you too well)

Sincerely,

Jessie

Wow. Tears streamed down your face as you read the note over and over again. You looked through each journal, Jess hadn‘t forgotten one thing. In there where all the things she reminded you to do.

4 years later

You made a name for yourself in the German league. Top scorer, shot bangers (you still had the same goal celebration as it was at UCLA - you loved her from afar) against clubs like Bayern Munich or Wolfsburg and were even considered as one of the nicest players.

Despite the fact that you and Jess were no longer in contact, you still kept an eye on each others career. When Jessie had the time, she would watch your matches or at least the hightlights of it. The same as you did. She was so proud of you. She loved you from afar.

But your time at Frankfurt came to an end. You wanted something different so when the offer from Arsenal came you didn‘t say no. You wanted this. You left Frankfurt with a heavy heart, but promised to keep in touch with Laura Freigang and your other teammates. They made Germany a home for you and you‘ll be forever grateful for that.

At Arsenal you were greeted with open arms, knowing already a few people due international duty. Jess knew about the transfer, you were in the same city as her, of course she knew. Her fingers hovered over your contact so many times, just a click away from calling you. She had also typed a message several times but never sent it. She was too shy. You had loads of fans now and got the recognition you deserved, it didn‘t feel right to text you out of nowhere.

Again, she loved you from afar.

Media wasn‘t something you enjoyed fully but it wasn‘t that bad either. Arsenal fans should have the chance to get to know you. You did welcome videos for them to post on social media and had some photoshoots. To be honest, you couldn‘t keep track but you could remember one specific filmed video. It was a Q&A and there was this one question which made you think.

"You've played in several countries, right?"

"Yes. As a kid I played in my home country, then I played in the United States and after that in Germany."

"Different countries, different languages, what helped you to adapt?" You thought about the question for a minute.

"To be honest, the question is more a who question instead of a what question" you smiled, people always appreciated your honesty. "I hated change, it made me anxious and because of that I forgot a lot of things. So, coming back to your question: ​​an old friend of mine. She‘s a mastermind. She reminded me to do this and that or wether I had packed this and that. When we parted ways, she still made sure I didn't forget anything. She prepared some journals for me where I only had to tick the boxes."

After the interview you had to see Jess. It just reminded you how important she was to you, even if you hadn't seen each other for years. A part of her was always with you. You loved her from afar.

You

I need to see you.

Immediately her reply came.

Jess🧠

Where and when?

You

20min.

You texted her the location of a small café which you discovered at your first day in London. 8 minutes early, you sat down at a table in the corner, shielded from the other tables yet with a perfect view to the door. Perfect on time, your lost love entered the café, she looked breathtaking. As she felt some eyes on her which turned out to be yours she walked towards your table, neither of you breaking eye contact. "Jess" you breathed, almost inaudible while you stood up, only an arm length away from her. The urge to touch was her massiv. Was this real? Was she really in front of you. Instead of touching her, you touched your neck, nervously scratching it. "You look beautiful" you blurted out, not being able to think straight in her proximity. Scanning your face, she launched forward to hug you. She held you like her life depended on it, afraid the moment she would open your eyes, you wouldn‘t be there anymore. After what felt like eternity, you pulled apart "Take a seat?" you asked which she did. At first it was weird between you both. You had so much to say but didn‘t know how but as the barrier was broken you talked about everything that happened in life. Neither of you mentioned the journals or the way things ended, it was just the two of you in your own little world. The world you created years ago. You sat in the café until it closed yet the evening wasn‘t over yet. Walking through the streets of London, Jess showed you around. "And that‘s were I live" the brunette pointed to door where you stood in front of. "Can I see you again?" you questioned the slightly smaller woman as you placed a loose hair strand behind her ear. The last four years haven‘t been enough to get over her. She just had to look at you and you would have weak knees, a racing heart. Again. "Tomorrow?"

The canadian and you met up nearly every day. Both of you happier, having each other close but just like in the old days, nobody said anything about the feelings for one another.

It wasn‘t until derby day.

The game was pretty intense and the score was still nil-nil which made everyone more desperate to score. Your team was up for a corner kick as Ann-Kathrin Berger, the Chelsea keeper, kept her goal clean. As you stood near the back post Katie took her shot. You remember jumping and then something nasty hitting your face before you hit the ground. You groaned in pain, liquid running down your face. Your head was aching while you felt dizzy. "Y/n!" soft hands grabbed your face as the owners eyes examined the wound. "You look so beautiful" you admitted sheepishly. "Can I count your freckles?" The studs of Erin Cuthbert had hit you pretty bad as you babbled gibberish. When the medic team came they immediately took you of the field to bandage your head.

Steph laid you down on the couch after she drove you home. You didn‘t talk nonesense anymore but the medic team ordered you to rest for a few days. "Thank you Stephsteph" you waved as she left your apartment, meeting a specific canadian at your door. "How are you feeling?" the blue asked as she entered your living room. "My head hurts but i‘m fine, now" you smiled at her while she took a seat beside your resting figure "i‘m glad"

She stayed the night and the night after that just to be sure you‘re alright. "Jess, i‘m alright" you whined as started to cook again for you "I know but I love to cook for you" your arms looped around her waist as you turned her around. "Four years isn‘t enough time to get over you," you admitted, resting your forehead against yours "I love you. I‘ve loved you since we were at UCLA"

"What?"

The freckled girl pulled her head away, staring in your eyes. Your body tensed, arms loosening its grip around her waist. "I still have your letter and the journals, they helped me a lot." scratching your neck out of habit. You took steps back, leaving her some space since she didn‘t reply to your confession. Her voice full of shock while she asked, "You love me?"

"Yes"

Within the seconds Jessie recovered from her shocked state as she pulled you down by your collar, pushing her lips against yours. Out of reflex you grabbed her hips, pulling her body against yours.

Your kiss was full of passion; it told its own story about the hidden feelings, the missing and the loving from afar.

—————————

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #chelsea wfc #steph catley #arsenal wfc #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics

[reimenaashelyee]

The World in Deeper Inspection UPDATE Read: (Chapter 1: Pages 57 to 68) (COMPLETED)

About the comic

Grimsley confronts the man who set him on this goose chase.

And with that… that’s the end of the 10th Anniversary revamp!! Can’t believe it took me almost a year to get this short project done, but blame my school and day job for that! *drives the nail into the TWIDI IS NOT DEAD sign deeper into the wall*

It was enlightening to reinterpret my first ever completed comic (more complete than the strips and unfinished or one-off shorts I had done prior) – basically the one that started me down the road to a career as a published author. I was happy to see how much my style had improved – not just in the layout, flow and pacing – but in how my characters have become more expressive and energetic, and how comfortable I am with the cartooning. Here is the proof that drawing comics helps you get better at comics!! It only took 10 / 11 years!

Plus, after a long while of drawing with a more reserved, professional approach (see: Seance Tea Party, Alexander Comic), I enjoyed the abandon and whimsy of TWIDI. The lettering is inconsistent all over but that only adds to the handmade whimsical charm of TWIDI, so lol.

Anyway – I have the 10th Anniversary ebook edition up on my Ko-fi and itch.io! This edition carries both the original and revamped versions of Chapter 1. No new cover or illustration for it this time; I think they are perfect as they are.

I have been meaning to make a continuation of the end of TCM that bridges the start of Chapter 1. It’s a long time coming: a story that had somewhat existed since the early days of TWIDI in 2010. Hopefully I will find that stability in my life to return.

Open the cut below to see my notes.

There’s also nothing exciting here, EXCEPT I severely cut down on the number of panels (and the verbiage).

As with the previous spread I cut down and distilled a lot of the verbiage. I shifted the dialogue slightly so that the reveal that Mr. Brown is a Lord comes from Grimsley (in 2013, Mr Brown never admitted he was an aristrocrat until this page) – it made more sense since Grimsley had gotten the info independently from the newspaper article and Andrew, and Mr Brown not mentioning it himself fits with his whole lying thing. For this spread and the next couple of them I am zooming out the panels to include more scenery. The 2013 layouts felt very claustrophobic, with the over-reliance on bust shots of the characters to carry the tension of the conversation.

Some more dialogue trimming and background scenery. I decided to change the setting for the chase sequence to be within the cemetery – just ’cause it makes more sense than if it was done all around Brookham. The panelling for it is a bit more dynamic too – look, Grimsley is parkouring!!

I have no idea why 10 (actually, 11) years ago I had so much trouble conveying and pacing this sequence of Mr Brown being set on fire. That’s the hindsight of experience, I guess??? Anyway I added a few more panels for actual build-up, and the blocking is way better now – there’s more energy (especially Skeleton’s expressions) and clarity (omg we can finally see where and what’s happening to the lamp). The last panel is a new addition to better connect with the next spread. Also… I am excited to see how much further I can draw Mr. Brown’s demise.

Man, the difference some changes in pacing can make. I added some panels with witnesses to the fire, just to emphasise why Grimsley and Skeleton have got to run. It’s crazy enough if a Brookie has got to witness immolation in the middle of the Night, but two paranatural spookies??? Also human fat has such a colour hdsjkfhsdkf the things that come out of an immolated body are so eerie….

The 2013 spread is almost perfect. 18 Year Old Me got it.

#the world in deeper inspection #art #comics #webcomics

[artificial-transmutations]

Transformation Letter: Dian

Hello. My name is Dian and I wouldn't mind transforming into anything or anyone. I'm an single 38 bisexual teacher, whom works out twice per week. My students would most likely describe me as the boring brown math teacher with the medium length black hair.

It wouldn't be right to say that today it is your favorite day of the year. To be honest, it's not even clear if you even have a favorite day of the year, at least regarding to your job.

Not anymore, at least. With your 38 years, you are teaching math for over ten years now. Ten years of reiterating the same and same again to your students. It is what people describe one of the biggest boons of teaching math: The subject never changes. While your colleagues have to integrate some new events or discoveries into their lessons every now and then, math never changes.

So, why is today one of the days you look most forward to? Because it's time for curve sketching again. This is both the subject you discovered your passion for math with and the point in the curriculum where you can see clearly which students are able to grasp the concepts of math - and which are too dumb.

Still, calling that one of your highlights sheds a sorry light on your academic career. Becoming a teacher *seemed* like a good idea, but the truth is that the endless repetitions are mind-numbingly dumb. You could have gotten a research job at university, but you decided to become a teacher. Ever since, every day is the same, every week, every year. Everything is on repeat. Teaching, driving home, working out twice a week, like a clockwork, summer holidays, winter holidays, one and the same.

You shake away the thought and sigh before entering your classroom and begin your lesson. You have the feeling you will lose half of your students today, intellectually, but you can hardly feel sorry. Math in school isn't hard. There is no reason for anyone not to get it.

So, you drone on and slowly approach one of the central milestones of the subject.

"And, as h approaches zero, we narrow in to the slope of the curve on that singular value for x. That is what we call a dancing quotient."

You look into the confused faces of your students. What did you just say? No, this is wrong. You try again.

"Sorry. The diffuse quo..." You trail off. Something is not quite right with you. You should know the word for that... thing. You look at the blackboard again. A big line with letters above and below, some arrows and a drawing of some curve. If you are honest, you don't understand fuck about all that. Weren't you supposed to teach math? Where are the numbers? What are letters doing in math.

"Is everything alright, Sir?" one of your students asks. Something else is wrong. When you look at your hand holding the chalk, it is way darker than it is supposed to look.

"Excuse me..." you mumble, surprised how deep your voice sounds. You exit the classroom and head towards the nearest bathroom, almost running.

The world seems wrong, too. It's like you’re looking at it from way too high. When you finally arrive and look at the mirror, you notice that your clothes are tight and constricting. Looking back from the mirror is another man, not the 38 year old math teacher you are used seeing every morning. The face looking back at you is younger, twenty-something. And it is Black, African American heritage, definitely. You can see your medium length black hair receding into your scalp, leaving you with the shortest buzz cut, as your nostrils become wider.

Not just your face changed! Your muscles grow and your shoulders expand, bringing your clothes that are riding high close to the breaking point. They don't break, however, but reform into a simple work uniform, covering your massive black body. At your groin, you can see the ample bulge of your dick and it makes you smile contently. You might not be the smartest, but you sure are both the strongest and best endowed man around here.

You give the mirror one last wipe and begin to clean the toilets with the janitorial equipment in your cart. Being a janitor in school is good work and doesn't require much of an education. That's why you even clean the toilets happily. However, it doesn't really pay well, either, so, recently you have gotten a second job as a bouncer in front of a gay club.

You don't mind the club visitors ogling your body or touching it from time to time, so the combination of both jobs makes for a diverse and eventful life! The strange letter you sent two weeks ago is already well forgotten.

Another one of those Transformation Letters. You, too can send one, over at my riot page!

#TransformationLetter #male transformation #muscle transformation #racial transformation

[zillasvilla]

BEYOND THE LIGHTS

Chapter VII: Rocket a/n: Re-edited.

Warnings: Minors DNI. 18+ only. Smut, dirty language. All things smut

Summary: Soraya’s next appearance, and new found status surprises everyone, while dealing with the drama from Dame.

Pairings: Jey Uso x Black Original Character

Disclaimer: All pictures, music and lyrics used are credited to the original creators. All original characters and plot lines are my one. Do not copy, or repost my work.

The gifted necklace sits pretty around her neck, the only piece of jewelry she wore other than some silver rings on her fingers. Soraya pulled off the little cape she used to cover her clothes while doing her make-up. The drama that broke months ago frustrated her to no end, she wanted to retaliate. Yet, her sister’s legal advice to go through a lawyer to release the documents was better. One less thing on her plate.

Special Delivery had become the number one album in the world. Her best-selling album since CTRL . Soraya’s production and pen skills, changes the way the industry sees her as an artist. She was enjoying the heighten success of her career, but still dealt with the heat of Dame’s dick-riders. But the light in all of her turmoil was her man.

Joshua. Big Papa as she started calling him. Since, the mention of her name in several court cases and unwanted media attention. They agreed to come out when she was ready. This strengthen their relationship, letting her be spoiled his attention on her. Their privacy allowed their solo careers to grow.

Soraya was booking meetings with major companies, photo shoots, concerts. People were calling her name. Jey was living on the high of being the world heavy-weight champion. His push, putting his name in every topic. The pop he gets after winning the all gold title from Damien Priest at Backlash was a moment she would never forget.

“They’re done setting up.” Athena, her mother interrupts her thought process, peeking into her childhood home. Their relationship had improved. Her mother learning to let her daughter grow up and do for herself. The multiple trophies show-casing her daughter’s talent. It was hard not to go into mama bear mode when her cub is attacked.

The blue and purple painted walls littered with posters of her favorite artist, brought her a sense of calamity. A place she can always come to when she wanted to feel like a kid again.

She nods, fluffing out her curly hair before deciding to finally get up, tossing her phone on the once slept in bed.

Athena joins her daughter’s side as they descend down the stairs. “Ready?”

Soraya nods watching the technical and production members come in and out of her parent’s home. The black and white lettering of the company name on the chest of the director. Tiny Desk. They had invited her to do an appearance. She agreed under the condition she does it from the comfort of her parents home. The atmosphere brings in a homey feel, giving her all creative control over her performance.

“We’re ready when you are.” Mark, the director tells her. She waves to her friends, pleased they were able to make it despite their hectic schedule. She had hoped he could make it, however, appearances in New York, kept him away.

She nods her head at the director, acknowledging his statement. Soraya takes a sip of the water handed to her by sister Shiloh. She smiles up at the older woman who stood over her in the beige six inch heels. Shiloh was there through it all, offering her shoulder to cry on.

Her sister had been a big help. She became the bridge between her and their brothers, keeping them at bay from killing Dame. Soraya was sure they would do with a quickness if she gave the go ahead. Shiloh’s focus was ensuring her name stayed cleared and it was something Soraya will forever be grateful for.

“I talked with Fredrick. Your attorney.” Shiloh adds, wanting her to know the details, before it all comes to light tonight.

”What did he say?”  She trails her gaze to the sitting area, where her family and friends conversed amongst each other.

“He looked over everything you had on the drive, even contacted the private investigator you had during all of that.” She rambles. It was a lot for her to remember, so she let Shiloh deal with it, coordinated with her partner Fredrick, who was the best in the states. His price showed that.

“He’s going to speak with several news channels, and take it to a Judge. You could file a civil suit against him if you wanted too, if not the courts will likely press charges based on the evidence you provided.”

“If we could avoid court again, that would be great.” She drops her water bottle in the trash, looking at her sister. “I want him to suffer.” Shiloh nods in agreement. Her little sister had been through enough as it is. She would make sure, she never had to step into a court room again. She watches Soraya stand behind the mic, turning to the production team.

“You guys ready?” 

Receiving thumbs up, she begins her introduction. The slow electric sounds being played from the guitars behind her, mixing with the brass instruments.

The smooth sultriness of her voice gained her crowd’s attention. She sways slowly, hand grabbing onto the mic for support. Immediately anyone would know that it was her first hit single off the hatred album she wrote before her disappearing act. Rain on me.

This concert was her way of releasing so much trauma. Her way of telling the people she loved about the turmoil she went through with Dame. Her body relaxing as she felt the negative energy dissipate from her mind and body, her singing flowing into one her all time favorites. You. The background vocalists singing Keyshia Cole’s part. She would be hitting her up for another song. A hard transition from her singing to rapping being translated through the music.

“You picked the wrong one, now you pick the right one, got no love left and I ain’t even tryna fight dumb.”

The words fly smoothly out her mouth, her own twist on the cadence, making eye contact with the camera. Everyone and the mama could immediately tell who she was directing it to. 

You know what you did and honestly I been type done How you getting hoes take 'em home then you wife them It's really no comparison 'cause I ain't nothing like them Bestie said fuck him, I'm like don't get me hype 'cause At one point would had been gun point on site bum Now I look at it like owww, that something light hun I'm happy that it's over yeah you only had a slight run I can be a foul bitch fuck your whole life up I might spend the night with your bro out of spite 'cause you a fuck nigga

Her brothers watch from the back, a proud grin on their faces, as their baby sister devours him without mentioning his name. They had watched the growth from her being too shy to rap, to now placing her self up there with the greats. A part of their personalities rubbing off on her. Zyaire’s lyrical guidance, Duke’s raspy growl and Dennis vulgar language rubbing off on her. He nods along, face turned up, bopping to her unique style, emoting what she was feeling with her facial expressions and hand movements

So lost into the song, she hadn’t realized Jey was coming in, nodding with a smile. The loose-fitting shirt, that was probably his, showing off the traditional necklace. She never took it off, even gifting him a leather bracelet to match. He gets lost in his woman’s presence, loving how free she was in her element.

She steps back to vibe with music, making eye contact with him. A wide smile on his face as he stood in the back with arms crossed.  The black shirt clinging to his muscles as he flexed. His brown eyes staring her down with a knowing chuckle. Mark signals to her that she had time for one last song. Deciding to switch it up when the music winds down.

“This is a song that I wrote in the heat of personal moment.” She smiles, standing in front of her soundboard. it’s called "The way and well let’s get to it.”

The only thing being used as background music was the sound board, producing her own beat, and having the recording of her vocals on a continuous loop. Soraya was always shy when it came to expressing her feelings to Jey. So she would write songs for him, leaving them around his place, in his bag. In his car, Not realizing his love language was words of affirmation in anyway. Her singing to him had to be one of his favorite methods.

You so damn important Everything you do shows me you know it Behind it all you are the motive Don’t tell you enough, but baby I'll show it, show it He say the king where he come from Take a young queen just to know one So, baby, I’ma drive it like it’s stolen I’ma fix it like it’s broken

We could catch a flight out to London Go to the mall, spend a lump sum They could try to catch up to us But they’re too busy making assumptions

She starts, swaying side to-side, snapping her fingers to the beat with her eyes closed. His own breath hitching in his throat. The way she made him feel like it just them two in the room, knowing the song was about him..

Boy, you know all I do Is stay up all night losing sleep over you All I do Is drive myself crazy thinkin' 'bout my It’s the way you walk, the way you talk, babe

It’s the way you love, the way you fuck, the way It’s the way you are, you're a star, babe It’s the way you, it’s the way you

Her hazel-brown lock onto his deep brown ones. She’s singing slowly to him. The intense staring contest they had aroused him. The noticeable tent in pants, she smirks, relishing in the fact, she caused that with just her voice. Her brothers follow her gaze to him. A surprised look on their faces. Zyaire, feeling like a dumb ass for the way he talked to her months ago about Dame.  He goes to talk to him, stopping in his tracks when his baby sister rapped another verse. He could wait till she was done.

This thing we got is crazy Only thing I know is you’re my baby Forever down, I am your lady Always for sure, never a maybe Never met someone who spoke my language Never met a nigga done with playin’ You the type of nigga make me lane switch Hand me the brush and say “paint it” Give me your heart and I hold it Show me your soul and I'll mold it

Baby boy, you gotta be the dopest Gotta be to fuck with the coldest

She closes out the concert slowly fading out the music, turning her attention back to the cameras. Soraya thanks everyone for coming, allowing production to pack up their things.

She takes a sip of water handed to her by Shiloh, watching everyone come her way while he hangs back in the kitchen with his twin. He’s sitting on one of the many barstools, arms resting behind him on the large island. She wanted to be wrapped up in them, but that would have to wait. 

“I swear you get better every time.” Bianca tells her, giving her friend a hug. She would make a note to set up a girl’s day at the spa to catch up.

“Whatever you decide. We got your back.”  Bianca refers to the yellow mailing packets she had her mom put on their seats. Which included a detailed affidavit on the abuse he put her through.

”Yeah girl. He ain’t gonna get away with this.” Trinity hits her fist into her palm, showing she was ready for a fight. Before meeting with a lawyer, and and after the release of Special Delivery: her family, friends and industry connections had constantly left messages on her phone, extending their hand of support while doting on her new album.

It wasn’t long before Dame and his bitch were trying to release their own album or diss towards her. It was a flop. That still didn’t mean she wasn't going to ruin his life. He tried to ruin hers and it was only fair she ended his. No mercy she thought, looking towards Jey, her vision is blocked.

She pouts, when an older buff man pulled her in a hug, kissing her face. “Daddy.”

“I’m proud of you baby girl.” He pulls back, grabbing her hands in his, thumbs rubbing over the back soothingly. A soft grin on her face at her father’s praise. “Yeah. You're not a wrestler, but this is close enough.” He jokes.

Her father was a wrestler. A big one for his era at the time. Known as D-von Dudley. One half of the Dudley Brothers. He had long retired, but was now working alongside his former boss, and her god-father Paul, or Hunter as she liked to call him. His kids being a part of the business was his father’s only dream and he got it. With her brothers.

He had hoped his daughters would join too, but instead he enjoyed having a daughter that was a lawyer and one as a musical prodigy.

“We do need to have a serious conversation.” She dreaded the day he would ask her to talk, especially now knowing in full detail the abuse she went through. He just wanted to make sure his baby girl was okay.

”Okay dad.” She groans, finally locking eyes with Jey. Production had left, leaving their family and friends to snack on the food her mom prepared. However, Soraya wanted nothing more than to be up under him. “Don’t think I won’t pop up on you at the studio.”

She hoped to god he didn’t. Athena pats his shoulders with a soft laugh. “Honey, she’s not going anywhere again.”

Soraya wasn’t planning to either. She was done running from that man and she’ll be damn if he believes he still has a hold on her. 

“Hey dad. Come here a sec.” One of her brothers shouted, mentally thanking him as she slipped away. She quickly rushed through her band of friends straight to him.

Shiloh watches her baby sister fall in love for the first time. The way she gets shy in his presence. She was happy her sister decided to tell everyone this way. It gave her control over her the life that he tried to take from her.

“Hi.” Soraya breathes out, stopping a few inches from him. He had a way of making her shy and he loved the reaction he got from her every time he was around.

He reaches out his hand. Her freshly manicured fingers come in view. The sky blue french tips, with the letter J on the pinky nails made him groan. His hand envelops her own, pulling her into his arms with a soft giggle.

“Hey pretty mama.” He whispers in her ear, placing a soft kiss to the side of her head. His raspy voice raises goosebumps on her skin. She steps closer, his legs instantly opening to let her in.

Soraya sighs softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. She feels the light squeeze from his arms and the resting of his chin on top of her head. “Thought you couldn’t come, papa.” She tilts her head up at him. Even when he was sitting, he still towered over her. 

He technically couldn’t but his affairs in New York, ended early and he was able to catch the red-eye flight to make it on time.

”I’m a champ baby.” He pecks her lips. “I do what I want.” He kisses her again, moving his hands back to grab her sides. The loud whistles, and shouts break them apart. Soraya hides her face into his chest. 

“About time. Damn.”  Jimmy shouts, making Jey laugh. His hand rubbing her back.

”You ate today?” He looks down at her, ignoring everyone that where asking them a million questions. She had gone quiet and he felt the low rumble in her belly. 

“No.” she whispers, moving her arms around his torso, wanting to be in his skin. She hadn’t realized how much of a safe space he was. 

“Go get your stuff. We’ll go eat.”

She pulls back, walking through the chatter boxes once again, fake laughing and joking with them, mostly saying her goodbyes, jogging up the stairs to her childhood bed room. Her man was here and she was ready to go. He stands up quickly, seeing her brothers make their way up to him.

”Main-event Jey USOOO.” The twins, Duke and Dennis mock his ring entrance, laughing causing everyone to watch. The twins were super protective over their baby sister. That and they couldn’t stand Joshua for some reasons. They felt like he wasn’t good enough for her. Jimmy clocks the animosity in their tone. He joined his brother’s side, ready for a fight. 

“I should’ve known it was you.  I mean she is attracted to bi-“ Duke stops when a hand  pushes him back. Zyaire shakes his head at his shocked expression. This wasn’t’t the time more the place. He wasn’t one for the fighting in his parent’s home. Especially over his sister’s relationships.

Zyaire learned the hard way dealing Shiloh’s fiancee. Joseph. In honesty, he had no problems with Joshua. He took care of her at her lowest and brought back the fire in her eyes. This was a different Soraya than before and he wasn’t going to let anyone ruin that. Not even their dumb ass twin brothers.

”Chill.” He turns back to Jey. “Be good to her man. She deserves it.”  

He nods in understanding, seeing his her come down the stairs. “I got her Uce.” 

“Everything okay here?” Soraya questions, finally joining Jey’s side with her purse and phone. Her hand instantly went down to his, fingers linking together slowly. She looks up at her older brother. 

He shakes his head with a knowing smile. “All good Raya, maybe we’ll see you at the shows now.” 

Soraya rolls her eyes at the comment, she avoided those shows for several reasons. “Bye” She waves to them quickly, dragging Jey out the house with her.

Soraya was over it at this point, wanting to be alone with her man. He tugs her arm slowing her down. “Slow down baby.”

She lets him pull her closer in his arms. “I’m not going anywhere.

After becoming champion at Backlash, he was able to take a long break before the road to SummerSlam. 

“m’sorry. Just missed you.” 

He grins, pulling her into his chest. He tilts her chin up with his fingers, thumb rubbing the space between her lips and chin. Soraya’s needy eyes stare at him, making him groan. Soft wet lips press against her mouth “Miss you, too pretty mama.” A soft moan leaving her lips.

”Let’s go get you fed.” 

It became a common occurrence to be at his place all the time. He was closer to more eating places, the bigger couch and bed. As soon as he opened the door for her, she made herself comfortable, taking off her shoes, slipping her feet into the fuzzy uggs next to his own slippers.

”Might as well move in.” He jokes locking up for the night. She was over so much, her belongings, mixed in with his. Some days he found her clothes mixed in with his travel bag. He keeps them in there, letting her natural scent mix in with his. He had a piece of her every time he went on the road.

Soraya joked to herself a lot that she would move in if he asked. He just has yet to ask her and didn’t want to impose. What if he got tired of her and kicked her out. She grabs his hoodie off the couch, turning to him. “Don’t tempt me with a good offer.”

She slips into the hoodie, putting her head and arms through the designated holes while watching him toss the keys on the entry table. He was studying her, mentally drawing the image in his brain at how she looked in his clothes; especially his merch. The necklace he gifted her was peeking through the hood asking him smile. she never took it off. Unless she was in the shower.

Her phone suddenly connects to his home audio system, letting him know she was here recently. He relished in the fact she proffered his place over hers.

Her smooth, sultry voice sings sweetly through the speakers. She was singing to him again, only this time a little more seductive. The strides he made towards her filled with passion and determination.

She moans at his hands grabbing her face, pressing a hot kiss to her mouth. His own working against hers, licking her plush bottom lip. He sucks the soft flesh between his own. 

Soraya trembles, gripping the front of his shirt. She tries to press herself closer. The needy kiss trails upward along her warm cheeks, moving her arms around his neck, her eyes flutter close, tiny moans from his teeth sinking into her neck, tongue soothing the sting.

”Jey.” She mumbles.

”Mhm?” He rubs his hands down her sides gently, pushing under the hoodie. Teasing her skin with light grazes from his fingers. A soft hum leaves her mouth. The lyrics speak for themselves, getting shy all over again from his passionate gaze.

If you like it you can touch it, baby. She leans up, kissing him slowly, setting the pace she wanted.

He smooths his hands over her thighs, going behind her, his large hands gripping the cuff between her thigh and ass. Ooh, grab a hold, don’t let go. He slips his tongue in her mouth at the sudden gasp she lets out. 

Her legs wrap around him, his erection straining in his briefs, pressing firmly between her supple cheeks. He can’t help but give it a light slip, groaning at the sounds of her tiny whimpers. He rubs gently using this time to carry her up the stairs into his room.

The soft glow of the sun setting illuminated the room. Her back hits the soft sheets, crawling up on her elbows towards the middle of the bed, He removes his shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room.

Faintly the song fades deeper, igniting a different light of passion behind his eyes. He grabs her ankle, pulling her down with a giggle. 

Jey stands between her legs, massaging her thighs as he leans down, pressing soft quick quicks on her neck. “You want it princess?”

A sweet sigh fills his ears, her hand resting on the side of his neck, feeling the cool metal of his Cuban link beneath her fingers.  “yes.” 

Their lips meet again, she’s falling into mush at his dominance, letting him bruise her lips, his breath hot against her skin with each kiss on her neck and shoulders. His hand rubs into her thighs, trailing up to hook his fingers in her bottoms, tugging them down and off.

His hands felt hot against her skin; rubbing in places other than where she wants to be touched. He slowly pushes the top over her head, her ample breasts sitting pretty for him.

He palms one softly, watching her shy away from his face. Jey uses his thumb and pinky finger to pinch and roll the nipple. “Look at me.”

The huskiness in tone mad her rub her legs together. Her slick pools into a small puddle beneath her. She wills herself to make eye-contact.

His right hand, slipping between her legs, teasing her arousal. “Good girl.” He gives her a sloppy kiss, spreading her folds with his index and ring finger; using his middle finger to slide up and down her center. 

Her soft moans covered by his mouth. She manages a soft pant. The hand still palming her breast rubs up her neck, enough pressure to make her lie flat against the mattress.

”Open for me, baby.” He coaxes, pushing the finger into her slick hole. Her legs spread open, exposing her body more to him.

He stills watches her closely, learning each expression he made with the curve of his fingers, adding another one, mouth slightly parted. He knows he found her spot. She pushes down on his hand. A delicate squeal leaves her lip. He knows Soraya can get louder.

Jey has made her squeal several times before; he stops wanting to make her come just from his mouth.

He lowers to his knees at the side of bed. Jey pulls his fingers out slowly, hearing the soft whine of loss from above.

His wet lips, leave a trail along her thighs; avoiding her dripping sex. Jey nipped and sucked on the meaty flesh, teasing her in the best way possible. His hands, pushing her thighs back, felt her lower half roll with his tongue on her clit.

Jey flicks her clit in slow circles, urging her to cry out in desperation. The warm like flesh, trails down. She clenches around nothing with a needy whine. “Jey..” She knew that’s not what he wanted to her.

“Relax.” He mumbles, giving her thigh a soft squeeze of reassurance.

He lets a dribble of saliva leave his pursued lips on to her dripping cunt. “I got you mamas.” 

He presses his mouth to her folds, leaving soft kisses. He looks up at he, allowing her thighs to close around his head. Jey hums lowly, coaxing a loud moan out of her.

He licks and sucks continuously, not letting up on her trembling body.  Her hands tangle in his hair, pulling on the soft curls.

His groan vibrates against her, grinding down on his mouth. The bubbling feeling in her belly rising. He takes notes of her tightened grip, and squeezing thighs, ears softly popping from the pressure.

Joshua plants his hands on the underside of her thighs, pushing them back on the bed; flattening his tongue against her, shaking his head side to side.

The burning sensation in her thighs only adding her to intense pleasure Josh was putting her through. He closes his mouth around her dripping heat; sucking harshly to elicit whiny moans from her.

The fervent licks lapping at her dripping juices. 

“Baby.” She squirms, tugging at his head with each hungry lick he gives her.  His cool breath blowing with on the nub, a strangled cry filling the room as her body shakes, a wave of relief crashing over her. 

His mouth kissed a pathway up her quivering body; fingers grazing over each mark he left on her rich skin; her fingers tracing along his arm pulling him down closer, pressing their lips together in a heated kiss. An aroused moan at the taste of her essence on his tongue. 

So into the kiss, Soraya didn’t feel him push off his own briefs, tossing them on the floor. His hand guided her leg around his waist, pressing his arousal against her folds. She bites his lip with a needy moan.

”More.” She mumbles into his mouth. He rocks down. The tip of him inching its way inside her heat.

Jey watches her eyes roll to the back of her head,, adjusting to his size. A cocky grin on his face he bottoms out. He kisses along her slacked jaw. He grinds his hips, using both hands to hold her thighs on his torso.

A low, rough grunt, with every squeeze of her pussy around his dick. Her essence coating his erection making the slip easier with each long stroke.

His weight against her body forcing her body to take it; rolling them on his side. His hand grabbing at the pliant flesh of her ass. He grips harshly while bouncing her down on his thighs.

The smell of sweat and sex filled the room. Josh leaves tender kisses along her shoulders. His hips curve upwards, tapping the sensitive bundle of nerves.

”oh fuck.” She gasps clenching around him to make him stop. A harsh slap to her thigh makes her look at him. A dangerous glare on his face.

”You can take it.” His length and girth stretched her so much. When she doesn’t let go, he pulls out, putting her on her stomach. 

“Josh-.” The sting from his hand on her ass stopped her. He rubs it softly, using both hands to spread her cheeks apart. She flinches at his wet tongue eating her from behind.

”who-?” He grits out, prepared to smack the bouncing bottom again.

”Daddy.” She rocks back, hearing a pleased hum leaving his lips. He had wanted to make love to her, yet the sight of her ass in the air changed his mind. His own arousal covered in her dripping cum. He places a pillow under her hips, leaning down to kiss up her spine. 

Her arms spread out next to her head, he rubs his hands up her arms, linking with her own, to pin her to the bed. His front pressed to her back. He plunges forward in a sharp thrust. Her falling back against his shoulder with a whine. 

He circles his hips, lips pressed to her cheek with sweet kisses. “Feel good hm?”

She nods, words caught in her throat with each move he makes. His large, veiny dick filled her in the best way possible. She turns her head slightly, his own coming down to kiss her. 

The once playing music drowned out by the sounds of her moans and grunts; skin slapping against skin. It was erotic the way she melted under him. He frees a hand to grip her throat, pulling her up on her knees making her plant her hands firmly.

”So close baby.” Jey groans. His nose pressed into her cheeks whispering praises in her ear, light kisses adding to the throbbing sensation that joined them together. 

A familiar fluttering in her belly, she clenches and he grunts in her ear. “That’s it.” He comes, hitting that spot over and over again that had her screaming his name softly.

“Good girl.” He staggers his thrust, timing it with his own orgasm.  “gonna cum for daddy?”

Unable to form coherent words, she squeaks instead when his right hand reaches around her, using his fingers to rub her sensitive clit.  Soraya jerks forward at the feeling of his hand squeezing her throat and the other on her tender flesh with every stroke of his thick dick. 

“Words mama.”

”mhm.. Yes.” She whimpers, taking all of him like the good girl she was. His hand around her throat moves to her right cheek squeezing softly.

”Cum for daddy princes.” He kisses the back of her shoulder, letting her bounce back against him.

Soraya feels the orgasm build up. Her arms shake, going weak as she falls flat against the bed. A helpless sweet little cry echoes of the walls when her release finally overcomes her senses. She closes her eyes, letting him use her.

Jey’s movements don’t stop, her core overly sensitive. The mixing of her shaky breathes and his thick growls only intensify when he snaps forward, pressing his hips into hers. His load painting her walls. 

“Fuck.” He hisses when he pulls out slowly. The juices connecting from her cunt to his tip. 

This wasn’t how he expected their first time together would go, but he would take it. Jey slides out of his bed. The once bright sky now littered with stars.

He turns on the light, smiling at her relaxed form. Her body littered with his teeth marks, and hickies. Joshua kisses up her back. 

“No more.” she mumbles. He lets out a deep rumble laugh from his belly.

”Let’s get you cleaned up.” He rolls her on her back and cradles her body in his arms. A quick kiss to her nose getting that shy smile he fell in love with.

His bathroom, just as spacious as his bedroom, was her favorite room in his house. The dual head walk in shower was the best thing there; comfortably fitting the both of them.

The steam quickly filling the room; they clean their bodies. Jey steals tiny kisses here and there. It was a quick shower; not wanting to get dry skin and soaked heads. She took the wig off, placing it on a wig head she had one his dresser. She had accumulated so much stuff over here, that she might as well move in. Her clothes miso mixed in with his, she just grabs whatever touches her had first.

The random shirt, being one his old merch shirts; it swallowed her frame.  

“Hungry?” The goofy grin on his face does nothing to persuade her that he was only talking about food; he could only hope she was just as hungry as him.

Soraya looks down, laughing at the giant bright word in her chest. . “Yeeet.” 

Jey’s head shakes with a smile; his heart swelling at her genuine laughter.. “I’ll order in. Whataburger? The usual?”

“I was thinking we could cook.” She loved when Jey cooked, he loved cooking for her and with. He had begun teaching her some of his favorites.

He was in the mood for traditional food tonight. “Maybe your famous chicken.” She hints, reaching in the drawers to pull out the matching lavalava set he got them. 

The lavalava fit snug around her waist, bringing her a deeper sense of connection with him. Their hectic schedules made it hard to incorporate their culture in the relationship. However, any chance she got, she would take it. 

Akhara’s Patrons: If you would like to be added, please comment on the master list. I will try to frequently update it as much as I can.

@justazzi @yana3sworld @wrestlingprincess80 @abadbitchblogs @paigereeder @kill-the-artiste @destinio1 @kill-the-artiste @reci1996 @mindairy @jatriciablog @alichesmi @jstarr86 @minsheyaish @wonderingfashion @whatdoeseverybodywant @jeysbvck @jeysbaby @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @keyaho @chaneajoyyy @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @empressdede @southerngirl41

#jey uso x black!reader #jey uso x black!oc #main event jey uso #black oc #original character #black tumblr #fanfic #jey uso #jeysuso #roman reigns #wwe #music fanfic

[attorneys-against-court-violence]

Let's talk about this moment real quick. Spoilers for Dual Destinies, especially the final case:

I've made me jests, but...

Athena isn't confused here because she's stupid.

She's confused because she's spent the better part of 7 years training, studying, and fighting her inner demons for the sole purpose of saving Simon. He was (and still is) one of the most important people in her life and now he's saying that it isn't? After all of this?

Simon is a key part of Athena's trauma, that he'd go and throw his life away for seemingly no reason at all (her memories of UR-1 blocked out with only the grim setting of the courtroom he was sentenced to death in being vivid). Her mother was dead, Aura was no doubt incandescent and wondering why Simon is covering for the true killer, and she was sent to Europe away from her friend Juniper (though they did exchange letters).

The day Phoenix inspired her to pursue a career as an attorney, she had some way of reaching out to and maybe even saving someone she knew from her past. The last tether to happier days in the Space Centre before UR-1, one that knew and forged a strong student-master bond with her mother Metis Cykes. Fighting hard to break out of her shell and become as physically and mentally strong as she could. She says as much during her conversation with him above, and to Phoenix & Pearl in the detention centre earlier that day/

She practically changed her entire personality over that period of time to be as strong as she possibly could be - enough that her childhood friend didn't recognise her at first:

All driven by a desire to salvage what she saw as a terrible mistake. If she could save this one person from her past, then perhaps they'll both have a chance at making peace with what happened that day.

With how well Simon knew the Cykes - seeing them for more than their stoic and awkward exteriors - it's fair to say they were familiar with one another. Athena's fixation on him is partly a result of trauma, yes, but it also speaks to unspoken happy memories of this black-clad dork who visits her mother and seems to understand her better than most anyone else did... even compared to her mother, it felt at times.

And he does understand her, knowing how to push and test her abilities in court and forming silent plans to catch the phantom together despite spending 7 years apart.

One of the bad endings for Turnabout for Tomorrow - where they fail to crack Simon's testimony - mentions that Athena left the office after the fact. Ignoring that they skipped over Clay's trial for a moment, we hear that Apollo and Phoenix take this event rather poorly, yet we don't hear a peep about Athena:

I can only speculate. Maybe that's the point; leaving us to wonder what Athena did after she failed to save Simon from his execution date. I'm sure Simon died reassuring himself about how Athena no longer has to bear the guilt for her mother's death. But I doubt that's any comfort given her intense reaction to re-living memories of failing to save him the first time.

Near and dear. Again. She's already failed to save someone she describes as near and dear - on par with Juniper at least - and she's left frozen in shock at the prospect of failing a second time.

She's confused by the notion that Simon's life isn't important because of just how much she values it. How she had no option but to save him, or be locked back into that dark place she entered when that horrible trial ended - knowing she's failed a dear friend because of how foolish she is.

#turn your thinking around! #psyche-lock cracking #the cykes brigade is totally cyked! #prosecutor birdman #psych siblings #rare moon of hope #judge junie #if you're wondering how i manage to spill these off-the-cuff. so am i! #ace attorney spoilers #dual destinies spoilers #aa5 spoilers

[unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men]

Paring: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: You're the photographer hired to shoot the Sexiest Man Alive shoot You find out that it's Chris Evans, sparks fly.

Warning: Language, Sexual encounters, Oral (male receiving) Soft Dom Chris (if you squint) public sex, unprotected p in v (don't be silly cover your Willy) pet names,Talk of bodily fluids. Sorry if I forgot any 

Word count: 4,189

The idea behind this was from a friend and they asked me to write this for them, and I figured I would see how it was received. Not beta'd or edited (other than Google docs) Not much of a writer but I enjoyed doing this. 

Comments, reblogs and ❤️ appreciated (please be nice I'm so nervous to post this… )

You had received the letter a few days ago, holding it in your hand, you still had no idea what to think. Being a photographer sometimes had huge perks, and this happened to be the biggest one of probably your career. Scanning the letter again you made sure you had all the information you needed and gave yourself another pinch just to make sure.

Dear Miss Y/N: We are excited to inform you that you will be our main photographer for the People Magazine Sexiest Man Alive photoshoot. Please bring any equipment you may want, enclosed are your tickets and information regarding your hotel. We are very excited to have you working with People magazine and Mr. Chris Evans.

Re-reading the letter gave you another giddy boost of excitement, Chris Evans? You were beyond excited, you always hoped to be able to meet him and now you were getting ready to do a photoshoot with him for the Sexiest Man Alive. Smiling,pulling your hair up in a messy bun and started packing. Packing some nicer casual clothes for the shoot and a few pieces in case you had time to go out, now you worked on packing up your equipment.

After what seems like hours you stop and glances at the clock, sighing and rubbing your eyes you finish up and get ready for bed, sliding into your bed you close your eyes excitement coursing through your tired body. Quickly falling asleep you hear a loud beeping, groaning loudly you turn and shut off the alarm. "Yeah yeah I'm up jeez" Sliding out of the bed you dress in a sunflower patterned sundress and some dresser sandals, putting on a large straw hat you grab your things and call for an uber.

Heading to the airport you go and check in making small talk with the person at the desk, heading through the security checkpoint you figure out your gate number and wait patiently looking through your phone. Hearing the plane number being called, you smile at the flight attendant and board the plane, picking your luggage up, you store it in the overhead bin and take your seat. Yawning, you glances at your watch and soon falls asleep.

You wake a few hours later seeing you are close to touching down, stretching a bit you pull out your phone and double check for the hotel location. Grabbing your overhead bag you exit the plane and grabs your luggage, walking toward the cab area you notice a man holding a sign Y/N for People Magazine Smiling you walks over to the man "Hello I am Y/N" reaching into your purse you supply him with your ID and photographer credentials, watching as the man looks them over and nods "Right this way miss, I'm to take you to the hotel, then to the photoshoot" 

Nodding you smile "Alright lead the way" Nodding he takes your larger bag and carries it to the limo, sliding in you marvel at the luxury of it. Watching the scenery you arrive at a large grand hotel "Wow this place is gorgeous" The driver chuckles and nods "It's one of the nicer hotels in the area" Pulling into the hotel the driver grabs your bag and helps you bring it to your room "I will be downstairs whenever you're ready miss" You nod and head into the room, opening the door you gasp and chuckle "Sometimes it's great to be pampered for work" Cleaning up you change into another sundress this one is blue with small white polka dots, putting your hair up in a ponytail.

Grabbing your gear you walk back down into the lobby and smile at the driver "I'm ready, thank you for waiting I tried to hurry" The man smiles "It's no problem Miss, you'll enjoy the area for the photoshoot, it's a gorgeous there" You smile "I can't wait maybe I can get some nature shots before the main shoot." Walking with the driver you rode to the area for the photoshoot, the driver was right, the area was gorgeous, lots of woods and outbuildings. Meeting with everyone you have a few hours before the actual shoot is scheduled. Setting up to take some nature shots you fail to notice someone walking up behind you.

Chris had seen you arrive but between his manager,makeup and set people there was no time for him to properly introduce himself. Seeing you had moved away from the main group he watched you set up taking some photos, he had seen your work which is why he picked you for this shoot. Moving closer to you he took you in, you were tall with curves in all the right places. Your long hair was pulled into a simple ponytail and you had some makeup on and it was enough to accentuate your natural beauty. Seeing you in the sundress you were wearing had thoughts and dirty ones running through his mind, but he needed to be professional.

Clearing his throat he watched you jump letting out a soft shriek "Uh sorry didn't mean to scare you, just wanted to properly introduce myself before things get crazy and people realize I'm gone" He watches you turn and the air is knocked out of his chest, you're even more beautiful than your picture. He watches you smile a blush along your cheeks "It's really an honor to meet you, thank you for letting me do this photoshoot. It's beautiful here" He nods "It really is, can you believe I was named Sexiest Man of the Year?" He watches you smirk and nod "Well I mean as a woman I totally see it" Laughing he finds himself blushing enjoying the flirty banter.

"I suppose I should get out of your hair and let you enjoy the scenery" He watches you laugh, smiling you look at him "Oh the scenery is lovely for sure, I look forward to seeing more of it" Chris finds himself blushing again and nodding "Maybe you will" Smiling he turns and walks back to his trailer his mind is fully focused on you. Getting ready for the first shot of the day they have him wearing a simple white shirt with the sleeves slightly rolled up, heading to the area for the shoot he sees you setting up. 

Smiling he stands in the first position he looks over at you and smiles with a wink, watching you blush he chuckles and makes eye contact with you the whole time. He watches you blush and shift slightly, there is something about you it's almost magnetic and if he had to admit it was very much a turn on. Feeling himself harden he licks his lips and goes back to looking at you. Each shot he made sure to look at you with growing intensity and desire, and with every look he could feel his professional image slipping.

The next shot he was lounging in a patio chair, shirt partially opened. Smiling he caught you watching him with your mouth hanging open, laughing softly he rests his head in his hand and looks squarely at you. He smirks slightly as you drop something blushing and apologizing to the crew, deciding to behave for now he lets you shoot in relative peace occasionally throwing you a wink.

Soon the final photo is taken and he can tell by looking at you that you're flustered, smiling to the crew he shakes hands with people and talks to his manager and publicist before heading to his trailer to get cleaned up, his thoughts still on you.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in, that was an amazing shoot. The only issue was you were worked up from Chris making so much eye contact with you, each time it sent a shiver through your body and you were certain your panties were ruined.. Watching him leave you whimpered softly, already missing his eye contact, packing up your equipment and taking a couple shots of the sunset for your own personal collection. Putting on some music you hum along swaying gently as you pack up.

Setting up a tripod you move your camera to the night sky hoping to get a time lapse photo, putting your hair up you glance up at the sky and smile, stepping back you hit a solid mass letting out a shriek. "Hey hey sorry didn't mean to scare you again" Gasping you turn and use your hand to steady yourself, blushing you realizing your hand is firmly placed on his chest. You watch him smirk "You know I was hoping I wasn't misreading the signs you were giving me" 

Shivering but not from the cold, glancing up at him you see his blue eyes are almost black and blown with lust, clearing your throat. "What are you talking about?" Chris moves closer to you now fully pressed into you, his mouth close to your ear "Come on sweetheart we both know we're attracted to each other, unless I'm wrong?" You shake your head trailing your hand along his chest earning a soft groan from him "You're not wrong" 

You feel him smile and whisper into your ear "Let's go find some place quiet then shall we?" Nodding you find yourself following him into one of the barns that one of the shots were at. Pulling you into one of the stalls you feel his lips on yours as he kisses you hard, making a soft noise you return the kiss tugging on his hair. Pulling away from the kiss his lips swollen he smiles "You are gorgeous sweetheart" You blush hearing his Brooklyn accent.

"You're not so bad yourself handsome" Feeling bold you nuzzle his neck kissing gently, the urge to suck a mark on his warm skin almost makes you cry but you resist, He growls softly and nips at your ear "Clothes off now" Nodding you start shedding your clothes, easily sliding your dress off and quickly taking off your bra and panties, which Chris quickly puts into his pocket. Looking at you he latches onto your nipple sucking hard, you find yourself arching into him.

Whimpering you glance at him "Not fair need to see you too" He chuckles at that and releases your nipple to remove his shirt running your fingers over his tattoos making him shiver "You keep that up and I'll forget why I came here" You laugh softly and let out a squeal  and your picked up and places on a blanket? Looking at Chris you see him blushing and he slowly removes his pants and boxers "I uh might have planned this, sorta" Smiling you pull him in for a kiss "I see trying to seduce me Mr.Evans?"

Moaning softly he kisses you hard, his hand snaking down and finding you soaked, his fingers lightly rubbing your clit "Christ sweetheart all for me?" You nod and whimper as you feel him gently stroking you "Please!" Smirking he takes your free hand and guides it to his hard member, needing no prompt you start stroking him "Fuck sweetheart knew you would be trouble, but the best kind" Blushing you smile "Thank you" Smiling he strokes your cheek "What do you want sweetheart?"

Looking up at him shyly you murmur "I want to suck you off and then I want you to pound me" Blushing you feel him harden even more pre cum dribbling down your hand "Fuck sweetheart, anything you want!" Helping you up he kisses you and places another blanket at your knees, you kneel and slowly start to take him into your mouth, you hear him groan loudly you start sucking on his tip feeling him twitch and jump. Smirking slightly you take more of him in your mouth, moaning happily as you feel him fill your mouth, you feel his hands gathering up your hair into a loose ponytail. Gently stroking your cheek you hear him praising you "Look atcha taking me so well, mouth was made for me"

You feel yourself getting wetter from the praise, your hips rut into the blanket needing some friction.  Hearing him chuckle you look up at him as you start to bob your head faster using your tongue to swirl around his tip "So fucking pretty aren't ya sweethart, gonna let me fuck that pretty face?" You blush and nod, his dirty talking turning you on even more, who knew that Chris Evans had such a dirty mouth but god if it wasn't hot combined with his Brooklyn accent. You were going to rename him the panty destroyer in the future. "Tap my leg twice if you want me to stop sweetheart ok ''You nod your head and hollow your cheeks and throw him a wink.

Chris smiles and starts thrusting hard into your throat groaning at the feeling of your mouth around his thick cock, you let out a low needy moan as he starts thrusting harder. Drool coats the base of his cock, gagging slightly you start moving up and down his shaft as he thrusts deeper. "Fucking hell sweetheart going to suck me dry, such a good girl" You moan and feel his cock twitch and jerk in your mouth, latching your mouth tightly around him he thrusts deep stilling "I'm cumming!" You feel the sudden swell and the explosion of his spend coats your mouth and you greedily swallow everything, cleaning his tip you slowly release him with a soft pop. Licking the corner of your mouth you sigh dreamily "Taste so good"

Watching you and hearing your now slightly raspy voice Chris helps you up before kissing you hard, tasting himself in the kiss. Groaning into your mouth he growls into your ear "Gotta be inside of you sweetheart, please" You nod and grab his hand you bring him over to a small area with a wooden railing, grabbing onto the railing  you wiggle your ass "I think someone was supposed to pound me, unless you would rather not I can easily get dressed…" Feeling a slap to your ass you clench around nothing letting out a moan "If it were up to me you would be naked all the time sweetheart" 

Feeling him behind you, the thick bulbous head of his cock rubbing along your folds, moaning loudly you wiggle into him "Please Chris! Need to be filled  with you" Hearing him chuckle he slams into you hard making you scream, his hands grip your hips tightly almost bruisingly as he begins to slam in and out of your wet eager core. Loud wet noises fill the barn along with your moans and whimpers, smirking he groans as your wet heat pulls him in with every thrust "Perfect for me, feelin like heaven, gripping me so tightly"

Moaning loudly you move your hand down to your clit rubbing it hard, arching into him "Harder! Please, I need it!" Grunting you feel his hand wrap around your throat squeezing tightly but not enough to hurt, his eyes watch you. Between you rubbing your clit, breasts bouncing or the way you keep pulling him deeper and deeper into your core, he feels close already. "Sweetheart I'm close, wanna have you fall apart with me, please" Nodding you rub your clit faster and feel yourself getting closer.

Letting out a loud moan he feels you clench around him and he chuckles softly as he paints your walls, moaning loudly your hands gripping the wood tightly as your orgasm hits hard. Spots fill your vision, your legs begin to tremble and your toes curl. Feeling him throb and twitch has to be one of the hottest things ever, tears roll down your face. Your mouth hangs open as you feel another orgasm approaching Another one? Couldn't be? Could it?! "I can feel you fluttering around me sweetheart this needy pussy wants to be filled is that it?" Moaning loudly "Please fill me to the brim, wanna be dripping your cum for days!"

You let out a sob and feel yourself cumming again harder than the last time, clenching around him like a vice your body trembles and your vision goes dark and you pass out, breathing heavy. Feeling you clamp down on him triggers his orgasm and he slams into you hard, keeping you pressed into his chest as he fills you to the brim. You feel boneless, weightless and suddenly very tired. Hearing a chuckle you feel hands gently rubbing your ass "You good sweetheart?" You smile and nod slightly "I'm amazing"

Pulling you gently upright and resting you into his chest his hands cup your breasts kneading them gently , he moves with you still buried deep inside of you and lays down on the blanket. Grabbing some more he wraps them around you and him, before pulling you close "Go on sweetheart get some sleep I'll make sure nobody gets to see you like this but me ok?" You nod feeling your eyes close "Thank you….so amazing" Turning you slightly he watches you slowly drift to sleep. "Filled you so full didn't I sweetheart? And you took me so well"

Smoothing some hair from your face he spends the time just watching you, enjoying the way your face crinkles as you sleep, and the way you grip onto not only him but his cock, it almost makes him want to wake you to take you again. He could discuss that once you were awake, the more he looked at you the less he wanted to let you go. He knew that sounded silly considering he had just met you but he felt a connection and not because his dick was deep inside of you, it was more than that almost if you were soul mates.

Watching you sleep for a few hours Chris smiled and lightly brushed some hair out of your face and leaned in close whispering "Sweetheart come on you gotta get up, let's go sleep in my trailer ok?" You grumble slightly and press into him, chuckling he smiles "Fine sweetheart let me get us dressed and I'll take you back to my trailer" Slowly pulling out of you he instantly misses your warmth, dressing you he dresses himself and makes sure everything is back to normal before picking you up and carrying you to his trailer. 

Opening the door he lays you on his bed and covers you and places a kiss on your forehead before walking back out to grab all your equipment and bringing it back to his trailer. Walking in he moves to the bed and chuckles seeing you sprawled out he strips down and nudges you gently "Sweetheart" You grumble but murmur softly "Chris?" He laughs at how your voice sounds half asleep yet "Can I take off your clothes? So your more comfortable" You nod and he looks at you "Use your words sweetheart" You groan "You may Chris"

He watches you drift back to sleep before carefully stripping you down, pulling you close, he sets an alarm and falls back into a deep sleep, his arms wrapped around you protectively. Hearing a noise you groan and press into something warm, hearing a chuckle you tense and slowly open your eyes. Glancing next to you, your eyes widen as you see Chris Evans holding you tightly his face nuzzling your neck "Morning sweetheart" You shiver hearing his still asleep voice"

"Morning" Snuggling close to him you mumble softly "How long was I asleep?" You feel hands stroking along your back "About 5 hours give or take, I brought you back here with your equipment so you weren't in a barn wanted you to be comfortable" Smiling you move up and kiss his chin, stretching you wince slightly and smile "Well looks like I do not need go to the gym today, got my workout last night" Chris blushes slightly and chuckles "Sorry about that can I do anything to help sweetheart?"

Smiling you shake your head "I'm teasing and no I enjoy the soreness honestly it's a wonderful reminder" Steve smiles "Are you going to the after party later today?" You yawn and nod "Oh of course will you be there Mr. Evans?" Smiling he nods "I am, want to go as my date?" You cough slightly and look at him "You really want to take me?" He nods "Of course I do, did you think this was a one time thing? Oh no sweetheart I couldn't let you go even if I had to"

Blushing you smile "I don't know if I own anything that fancy but I would love to go with you" Chris laughs "We can always get you something, now do you want to sleep a little longer or could you eat?" Pressing your head to his chest you yawn "More sleep please" Nodding "Sleep it is sweetheart" Watching you fall back to sleep Chris reaches over and grabs his phone and takes a photo of you sleeping on his chest, making sure your face is hidden he posts the photo to his twitter account. Putting his phone back he presses close to you and falls asleep.

Waking later in the day you yawn and stretch, sitting up you smile and dress. Smelling coffee you let out a pleased sigh and walk into the kitchen/living area seeing a cup of coffee still hot on the counter with a note, yawning again you walk over and read the note Y/N I managed to wake up before you and leave (didn't really want too) and got any paparazzi and such away from the area I left my number and where I'm staying for the after party, please call me. Chris Smiling, you dial the number and he picks up on the first ring "Sweetheart?" You laugh "Unless you had another woman you wanted to call you, it's me"

He chuckles and you're sure he's blushing "No no you're it sweetheart, so you'll be my date tonight?" You pause teasing him "Well…..yes I will, want to pick me up at 7pm?" You hear the happiness in his voice "I would love too sweetheart" You send him your address and a silly photo "Ok well I better get my outfit planned, gotta look my best around Captain America himself" He laughs and is suddenly serious "I'm really glad you'll be coming tonight, you know the paparazzi will be asking all sorts of questions about us" You chuckle "Good I hope they do, see you soon Chris"

He hears you hand up and smiles at his phone, spending the rest of the day getting things in order and getting ready for the evening. Around 6 he starts to head to your place wanting to arrive a bit early, finding your building easily he knocks on the door, suddenly the door is opened and you're standing in a simple towel, hair still wet "Chris? You're early I just got out of the shower" He eyes you and you feel his hot gaze looking you over he looks at you for permission before entering your house. You smile and nod and he pulls you by the towel and kisses you.

"Well hello to you too" He blushes and smiles "Sorry couldn't help it sweetheart" You smile and chuckle softly "Well make yourself comfortable while I go and finish up" He nods watching you leave , sitting on your couch he looks around and smiles enjoying the cozy feelings from your place. Seeing numerous photos on the wall he smiles, soon the door opens again and you walk out. He stares at you, his eyes roaming over your body. Standing in a navy blue almost skin tight dress your hair is in a sexy updo, your makeup is more on the natural end with some fancy eyeliner.

He watches you walk over to him and chuckle "Did I break you?" He blushes and stands kissing your hand "Your gorgeous sweetheart, come on lets knock some socks off of people '' You laugh and nod taking his arm and walking to his car, pulling up to the after party event the car is surrounded by paparazzi and media outlets. Feeling hundreds of pictures being taken you feel Chris squeeze your hand and kiss your cheek making everyone go wild. You smile and realize how different your life will be now and it's all thanks to one chance encounter.

#chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x fluff #chris evans x smut

[hyper-pixels]

How to Grow Up

A guide on how to grow up. It was originally posted by @/friendliness but half the links were broken. So I took what links weren't broken and added other links and more things to know.

This is USA based resources

Personal

Reasons to Stay Alive – A Tumblr post of 116 reasons to stay alive by @/friendliness.

How to Get Better At Asking for Help – Website is Harvard Business Review. The article is “5 Ways to Get Better At Asking for Help” by Wayne Baker.

What to do if you Can’t Afford Therapy – Website is Psych Central and the article is by Steven Rowe.

How to Quit Smoking – “The 22 Best Ways to Quit Smoking” by Debra L. Gordon and David L. Katz M.D. from the Healthy Digest.

How to Legally Change your Name – Website is Forbes.

Wanna Learn Something New? – A Tumblr post made by @/hamletthedane with various new things to try from language learning to ballet.

Free Harvard Courses – Harvard University’s free online courses.

Getting a New Computer? – A quick and dirty comprehensive guide by WIRED on what to look for.

How to Sew – Website is Autodesk Indestructibles. The article is “How to Sew” by Jessyratfink. Having a small sewing kit (that you can pick up from nearly any craft store) is super handy and has saved my life and clothes.

What to Look For in Clothes – A YouTube video by Alyssa Beltempo titled “How to Identify High Quality vs. Poor Quality Clothing | Slow Fashion”. Here’s a WikiHow [x] if a YouTube video isn’t your style.

Home

What’s a mortgage? – Website is realtor.com and the page is called “What is a Mortgage? Home Loan Basics Explained” by Cathie Ericson.

First Apartment Checklist – A checklist PDF. Here’s another link to a Tumblr checklist [x] 

What to Ask Landlords Before Renting? – “25 Questions To Ask a Landlord When Renting a Home” by Morgen Henderson.

What’s Renter’s Insurance? – Website is Forbes Advisor. The article is by Jason Metz and titled “How to Get Renters Insurance”.

Plant Care – A master list of how to care for plants made by @/difficults

Job

Time Management – Website is Entrepenuer and has 10 time management tips. One I personally recommend is keeping a physical calendar book on hand. I keep mine in my bag with a designated pen.

Finding the right job – Website is The Muse and it has 13 free career assessment tests.

Make a resume – Website is Resume Now. Many hirers look at your name, the middle of the page (where your experience list is) and skim the rest.

Job Interview Tips – Website is Linkedin. The article is titled “10 Job Interview Tips to Land The Career of Your Dreams” by Caren Merrick.

How to Write a Cover Letter – Website is The Writing Center. University of Winsconsin, Madison. It’s titled “Writing Cover Letters” and I can’t find the author.

Money

Couponing! – Website is Coupon Database :: Southern Savers. It has a list of mobile apps for coupons to places.

Call 211 for Help – the website leads to 211.org. It's anonymous and can help you get connected to food programs, paying bills and things like doctor appointments. Here’s a Tumblr post about it [x] by @/poessionisamyth

Groceries! – This is a Tumblr meme post, but scrolling through tags/reblogs/replies and there’s plenty of good tips. The post is by @/charlotten

What To Do if You Can’t Pay Your Bills – Website is Nolo. The article is “When You Can’t Pay Your Bills: Thiings To Know” that was updated by Amy Loftsgordon. 

Are You Paying Too Much for Your Phone Bill? – An article by Beht Beverman titled “How Much is Too Much to Pay for a Cell Phone Bill?”.

54 Ways to Save Money – Website is America Saves.

How to Do Taxes – Website is Wiki-How.

The 70/20/10 Method – Website is Business Insider. The Article is “A Beginners Guide to the 70-20–10 Budgeting Method” by Paul Kim.

Side Hustle Ideas – Website is Forbes. “30 Side Hustle Ideas To Make Extra Money In 2024” by Krista Fabregas.

Emergency

Your Rights When a Cop Pulls you Over – Website is Business Insider. Cops are allowed to lie to you, and they will, so be careful.

Hotline List – The website is DoSomething.org. Depression/Suicide, domestic abuse, child abuse and runaway/homeless/and at-risk youth hotlines.

What to Keep in Your Car – Website is MentalFloss. I live in a snowy area that gets blizzards and bad ice. I keep blankets, water and other aids in my car as well as a knife and road flare. I also own a self jumping car battery and it has saved my ass more than once. Heimlich Maneuver – A one minute video by the Mayo Clinic.

The Heimlich Maneuver on Yourself – A one minute video by The List Show TV.

What to Keep in Your Wallet – Website is PureWow. The article is by Rachel Bowie. Keep your drivers license, medical insurance card, and an emergency contact in your card. If you have a pet home alone make sure that you have a card detailing this. Free printable one here [x]

Traveling

Packing List – Website is Smarter Travel.

Traveling with Little to No Money – Website is Nomadic Matt.

How to Pack a Suitcase – Website is Real Simple. The article is by Thersa O’Rourke.

How to Apply for a Passport – Website is WikkiHow.

Making a Travel Budget – Website is Travel Made Simple. “How to Make a Travel Budget” by Ali Garland

#how to grow up #list #housing #living on your own #insurance #traveling #may update more and refine over time

[ukulelevillainwrites]

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

pairing : anthony lockwood x reader

summary : y/n gets fired from Fittes and seeks refuge with George, only to find out he works with the worst guy she's ever met

word count : 4.5k

content : in this part you get angst, reader and lockwood’s backstory and some plot with a side of ‘i didn’t know where else to go’ in subtext :)))

---

They ate dinner in silence. It was clear that the two guys she had in front of her weren’t used to having people over. They were sitting around the kitchen table, notes and drawings covering the cloth beneath their plates. She read the messages closest to her. Many were about cases they probably worked over the past couple of weeks. But here and there she noticed some insults directed at Lockwood and she was glad to see she wasn’t the only one who thought those things. A drawing of a visitor caught her attention. It wasn’t very detailed but its expression seemed sad and lonely nonetheless.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“That’s the ghost we have to take care of tomorrow. It’s probably a Type One so we should be done quickly.” George answered.

“Where is the house you have to take care of?”

“Hopkins Street in Soho.”

“I’ve been on a case near there! Though it was more dangerous, the Type Two we had to contain was more threatening than we had anticipated. And the house was big too, are you gonna be okay just the two of you?”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Lockwood cut in.

“We could always add a third person, worst case scenario they just stand by…”

“I’d be happy to be there in reinforcement… And that way I could pay you back for letting me stay here.”

Lockwood was far from enthusiastic about the arrangement. y/n saw his jaw tighten as George accepted her offer to tag along.

“I’ll go to Satchell’s to restock.” He got up and aimed for the door. “You and y/n can prep the bags so we can leave when I come back.” He left the table without looking back. There was no room for discussion. It’s like he couldn’t get out fast enough. I guess the feeling is mutual then. But who cared if he couldn’t stand to be in her company either? At least she could repay George by helping him out back. And that way she didn’t have to figure out what her next move should be for another day. She could pretend to be a proper agent one more time and forget about her disgrace.

George immediately filled her in on all the research he had done on the case. Apparently even for a Type One explaining every little detail couldn’t wait until tomorrow. She listened to him ramble on about the history of the house on Hopkins Street and felt at peace for the first time that day. It reminded her of their walks back from a job early in the morning. She paid attention as much as she could until her eyes decided to close on their own.

----

It was getting unbearably cold and the fact that she was restrained to a small iron circle didn’t help her condition. The night had been a disaster so far. It made her regret Fittes, her old teammates, her decision to stay here and help. She wanted to be a true professional and apply her impeccable methods. What could be better than to follow Marissa Fittes’ instructions to the letter? What could possibly be worth denying everything her supervisors had taught her her entire career? Anthony Lockwood’s sheer will apparently justified changing everything.

It had started as soon as they had set foot inside the house. She wanted to be thorough and efficient. She offered that the group went through the house together to look at each room and possibly locate the source before facing any type of ghost. But their leader had decided otherwise and didn’t even bother to listen. He sidelined her immediately.

“You’re here in reinforcement, right? So we’ll come get you if we need a hand.” He had told her before leaving her behind surrounded by an iron chain. It made her furious. Sure, she hadn’t exactly been warm yesterday, or even polite, but still. He could really use her training and her talent. His stubbornness was really stupidity at this point. And what kind of agency didn’t have supervisors?

She was going on and on in her head about everything that was wrong with this situation when George interrupted her train of thoughts as he entered the room.

“We still haven’t found anything, we’re taking a break in the kitchen. Care to join us?”

Of course, Lockwood wouldn’t have bothered to tell her that. Instead, he greeted her with

“That tea is really awful. Who made it?” he said with a wince.

“I did, and at least I was nice enough to bring tea for everyone.” She went to pour herself a cup from a thermos she had packed.

“Well, it was your job.”

“My job was to prep the bags with George, not play housekeeper.” She said coolly without looking up. She turned her back to him so he couldn’t see the look on her face. That tea really was terrible.

“The tea isn’t the only thing that’s bitter tonight.” He said with a smirk.

She turned around to face him.

“Tea isn’t part of a regulation kit.”

“In our agency it kind of is.” He cut in.

“What I’m trying to say is that you could appreciate the intention instead of making your snide comments. Earlier you literally walked through the door shouting orders without helping us even a little and now you keep criticizing me. You can’t spend the evening reprimanding everything I do.”

“I’m in charge and I can when the work isn’t done properly.”

The room fell silent. She wanted to scream at him, hit something, anything. But this was still a haunted house. She needed to keep her emotions under control. No matter how much she wanted to put him in danger specifically, George didn’t deserve this. Ignoring the satisfied look that Lockwood gave her, she turned to George.

“Is he always so difficult to work with? I’m surprised you haven’t lost your sanity.”

“He’s actually tolerable most of the time.”

Lockwood smiled at her with a “I told you so” grin.

“But you obviously have quite an effect on him.” He told her with a wink.

His smile disappeared instantly and it was George’s turn to laugh.

“Instead of having you two brooding in separate corners of the room, maybe we could try and do the job we were hired to do?”

They went for another tour of the house, using all their senses to try to detect any activity. The only result they got was a drop in temperatures which was a start. They settled into the coldest room, figuring the source was probably nearby. They set up a circle in the center and the boys started to search anything that could be the cause of the haunting. As y/n went to pick up a figurine carved in ivory on a shelf an annoying voice interrupted her.

“I need you to stay in the circle while we look for the source.”

“But my Touch is better than yours and George’s combined! Stop being a jerk and let me do my job for the first time this evening.”

“We’ll tell you if we need reinforcement.”

As George was about to protest she raised her voice.

“I’m getting really sick of your behavior. Stop treating me like I’m a beginner. I can handle myself. I worked for the most prestigious team in the most prestigious agency for God’s sake!”

“Well, you’re not anymore. Your behavior hasn’t been much better and until I know that I can trust you I’m not letting you touch anything in this house.”

“Fine. If that’s how it’s gonna be I’ll be better off anywhere else.”

She left the room in a rush. She was putting both of her teammates in danger anyway with how angry she was getting. It was better for everyone if she left.

She went down the stairs in a hurry and slammed the door on her way out. The fresh air outside helped a little. But she would need a two-hour walk at least to calm down. She started to walk down the street as she heard footsteps running behind her.

Lockwood caught up with her and grabbed her arm to make her turn around.

“Where do you think you’re going? You don’t have anywhere to go and we organized the night with you as backup. If we don’t have you standing by you’re putting both of us at risk if something goes wrong.”

“I’m putting you two at risk anyway with how angry I am at you. I thought getting to know you would change the opinion I had of you but I was right from the start you’re just an arrogant jerk.”

“And I was right to think you were just pretentious and helpless that night we met. If it weren’t for me you’d be dead but instead you disrespect me in my own house and act surprised when I don’t trust you on a case.”

So he did remember that night. She tried to hide her surprise.

“Oh right so I’m supposed to be grateful for you ruining a perfect opportunity for my career.”

“You didn’t need me to ruin your career you handled it very well yourself.”

That stung. She turned around before he could see the tears that prickled her eyes and stormed off into the night.

“Nice one Lockwood! And I’m the one with zero social skill.” George said from the doorstep before going back inside, leaving Lockwood alone in the deserted street.

---

“y/n I need you to keep the visitor under control while we look for the source!” Kipps shouted as he ran up the stairs, followed closely by Bobby.

“But wouldn’t it be better if-” She tried to point out that her talent would be most useful if she went to look for the source herself but the boys were already gone. Reluctantly she went back to the living room, using her senses to see if the visitor had come back yet.

She was alone for now. Just her and her frustration to keep her company. After a week of strenuous efforts and late nights, her leader still didn’t seem to warm up to her. Obviously if he kept her aside and gave her tasks that didn’t let her show her full potential he could never be impressed with what she could do. But she kept her head down, it was only the first week, she needed to follow his directions to remain on his good side, or at least his neutral side. And if the visitor showed up she would do her best to fight it, maybe that would show him. She tried listening to reason the best she could, but the truth was that Kipps’s behavior vexed her. She couldn’t help feeling underestimated and a kind of sorrow rose in her. What more could she do to make him notice her? His approval was the only thing she sought at the moment. It consumed her so much that she didn’t realize the visitor had resurfaced. It started creeping up behind her when suddenly she felt a presence as the temperature dropped several degrees.

She ducked at the last minute and narrowly avoided the ghost that flew above her reaching for her neck. The phantasm was now hovering between her and the iron chain, she had no refuge. She drew her rapier unaffected and ready to fight. The ghost tried to attack again, it was aggressive and used her frustration to its advantage. She formed complicated patterns with her sword to keep it away from her. They stayed face to face like this for several minutes with no sign from Bobby nor Kipps. Her arm grew tired of this face to face. It was getting harder and harder to draw the ghost off but her mind stayed focused. Fortunately, it was hard to break her spirit. That was until a cramp painfully twisted the arm that held her rapier. The pain was so sudden that she grabbed her arm and dropped her weapon as a reflex. Probably the worst reflex to have in this situation. As her iron defense touched the floor the visitor attacked. She ducked again, getting closer to the iron chain. As she went to step inside, she tripped and broke the circle. Her rapier was out of reach. She grabbed the chain and tried to fend off the ghost with the chain, not using the flares at her belt that certainly would have caught fire inside. Where were Bobby and Kipps? She could really use a hand right now. As the phantasm got very close to touching her the door flew open.

Finally. In the darkness she only saw a silhouette in a long coat drawing the visitor’s attention away from her. She was thankful but she didn’t recognize who it was. Bobby or Kipps would have been coming from upstairs so she wondered how this stranger could have known when to barge in. Nevertheless, the diversion was enough for her to grab her rapier, ready to fight once more. The living room was lit by the ghost lamp outside. She turned around to see her rescuer fending off the phantasm. He was quick on his feet, the movements of his sword clear and precise. His posture looked elegant even in a fight. He seemed completely at ease and it didn’t look like he needed her help. Once more she felt rather useless. She remained alert but couldn’t do more than watch the scene unfold. It was like the visitor had forgotten she was in the room standing right behind it. As the fight went on the guy in front of her tried tempting it more and more each time he dodged a sudden move from the ghost. She slowly walked around to join him on the other side of the room as the ghost was getting closer each time it tried to reach him. What was he doing? The point wasn’t to tempt the ghosts but to keep them away. It’s like he found it amusing somehow. She felt a burst of energy and a shiver ran down her spine. It was getting particularly angry. She hurried to reach his side telling him to get out of the way. She held her sword high, ready to fight off the new blow she was expecting when instead she was pushed behind. She lost her balance as she was shoved against a sofa sitting in the corner of the room and tripped the reckless idiot in the same movement. He held on to the armrest to quickly stand up and stood between her and the visitor. It was getting close, too close. At the last moment it disappeared. The air warmed up and the tension that filled the room was replaced with relief. Only for a moment though.

“Are you crazy? You could’ve gotten us both killed if my team hadn’t just located the source!” She pushed him away as she stood up from the sit he had pushed her into.

“A good evening to you too. What a lovely night isn’t it?”

She looked at him in disbelief.

“You’re not even gonna acknowledge the fact you almost got killed three seconds ago?”

A voice came from the hallway.

“Tony! To what do we owe the pleasure?”

The boy rolled his eyes at her before turning around.

“Shouldn’t you be alone in your big house at this time of night?”

She had never seen Kipps like this before. Sure, he was proud most of the time, but never to that extent.

“You should thank me for saving your teammate from a certain death. I did your reputation a favor here.” He talked about her like she wasn’t standing right next to him. How could someone she met 5 minutes ago irritate her so much?

“I’m sure she could handle herself just fine.”

“I could but he didn’t really give me a chance.” She said, glaring at him. “I didn’t need your help, I had the situation under control.”

“A simple thank you would have sufficed. Next time I’ll just enjoy the show from outside then.” He gave her one last look before exiting the room.

He left the same way he had come without looking back. Or at least she thought. Outside he had glanced one more time through the window where he had first seen her battling the phantasm, his lips curving slightly as he made his way back home. 

---

The memories of that night kept coming back to her, fueling her rage as she made her way down Wardour Street. He didn’t let her do her job then and he didn’t let her do her job now. And he was acting like an arrogant prick with a smug look on his face while he was doing it. Her head was heavy with the events of the past two days and she felt overwhelmed. She was angry at the universe for turning her life upside down. She had a plan and she was following it. Why did things have to change so suddenly? She was mad at her instincts for misguiding her and she hated the way she kept overreacting. The further she walked the more anger she realized she had to unpack. She had weeks of frustration from all the efforts she made to gain Kipps’s trust and approval and the ironic twist of fate that undid all that in just one day. She also had the hurt from El’s betrayal that still twisted her stomach. The uneasy feeling that something wasn’t right with Mrs Dufour. The shame of being fired. The unbearable weight of figuring out her future now that she threw away the one that she had designed for herself. She wasn’t ready to deal with that just yet and decided to focus on tonight instead. Who cared if she didn’t have a future, at least she still had a friend in the city that very kindly accepted to take her in. Well, until she left him and his colleague alone in a haunted house that is.

She regretted taking her anger out on Lockwood, though some of it was well deserved. She actually didn’t know how to feel about him. Somehow she was convinced he could have been very nice to work with if she had given him a chance from the start. On the other hand, she still wasn’t over how he literally kept her from doing her job all those weeks back. And the fact he behaved the exact same way tonight certainly didn’t help. Still, she hoped they were safe even with her gone.

The stroll did help a lot. She had been gone for half an hour but the fog in her mind already started to lift. She still needed some alone time but she really should apologize for her behavior later. The guys wouldn’t be home for a couple more hours anyway. No need to rush. She could always apologize tomorrow. And she would owe them one less night at their place.

She made her way to the border of the Thames, passing Scotland Yard on her way. It was one of the only buildings with light coming from the windows. She followed the river south, taking deep breaths to try and ease her mind. A gentle breeze rustled her hair and she finally allowed herself to relax for the first time today. The water made her feel safer and the quiet streets made her appreciate the city even more. It was a shame she couldn’t do this more often without taking risks. She could have stayed there for hours but as she leaned on a banister she noticed a boat getting weirdly close to her. It kept coming her way until a girl with a straw hat on came into view. She pointed to somewhere behind her mouthing something. Was it directed at her? She frowned mouthing “what?” back to the girl. She insisted. ‘Watch out.’, she finally understood. She turned around to see men gather and she ducked on instinct. The only people out at this time of night couldn’t be good news.

Curled up behind a brick wall, she slowly craned her neck to try and see what this was all about. There were three men standing a few feet away from her. They were partially hidden by a tree. She moved slightly to her right to have a better view. Relic men. It was very clear that this meant trouble and she needed to get out of there. She turned around, hidden behind the wall to thank the girl on the boat but she was already out of sight.

The easiest way for her to get out of there unseen was to go back the same way she came, practically on her knees the whole time to remain covered. She made slow progress but she would soon be able to reach Scotland yard and from there she could keep walking the other way. She didn’t really care where she was going as long as she was out of danger. She was reaching the last few feet when she heard a familiar voice that made her blood run cold.

“Good evening gentlemen.”

George was right. She was right. Mrs. Dufour was standing there, casually chatting with relic men. Her dismissal seemed even more unfair now. She wasn’t in such a hurry now. She could finally get her answers and get to the bottom of this.

“Did you bring it?” one of the men asked though it sounded more like an order.

“Of course I did. Here, I’m sure you’ll get a good price for it but I want 25%, no less.”

The man closest to her laughed as he dismissed her with a hand.

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s an original from Mrs. Overton’s ancestors. A piece from a prominent family like hers has got to be worth a lot more than the other pieces I brought you. And I’m putting my job on the line for this. 25 or I’ll find someone else.”

Did she really say Mrs. Overton? She was selling the clock she was supposed to bring back in a few days? y/n couldn’t believe it. How was she going to justify the missing piece to their client?

The shock made it hard to breath. She had flashbacks from the day before when she heard voices outside Mrs. Dufour’s office. She tried to step away slowly and discreetly but the friction of her feet on the ground made a sudden noise that made the group look in her direction. She stayed ducked but she heard one of the men get closer to investigate. She only had one option if she wanted to get out of here unharmed. She stood up and immediately started running. She could hear one of the men yelling to go after her from afar but she didn’t turn back to check. She hoped the supervisor didn’t recognize her but now was not the time to worry about this detail. She had more chance losing them if she got lost in the streets instead of following the river. She made a turn on her left, hoping they would lose sight of her. Instead she felt a sharp pain in her left arm. How could she get a cramp in this part of her body while running? Without slowing down she passed a hand up and down her arm to ease the pain. Instead of finding the soft fabric of her jacket her fingers met something wet. She looked down at her bloodied fingers trying to keep up her pace. Not only were these men chasing her but they were throwing knives at her. Letting them catch her wasn’t an option from the start but even less so now. She tried to ignore the sharp ache and kept running until she found a hiding spot in a deserted alleyway. She used the trashcans and piles of cardboard boxes to avoid her pursuers. They ran past her without looking back. She waited a few minutes trying to calm her breathing down.

The street was silent again, she couldn’t hear any voices or steps coming her way. She peered out from her hiding spot and only saw the ghost lamp at the end of the street. She came out and sighed in relief. Her mind had gone completely numb but as she stepped out of the alley she became painfully aware of the situation. Panic started to rise inside her. She wanted to curl up in the middle of the street as her breathing accelerated. Somehow she still wasn’t getting enough air. Her lungs hurt, the world started spinning around her. The wound in her arm was burning, she felt blood running down her arm. All her senses were blinded by the pain and the stress, she couldn’t think straight. Behind her she heard something crack. A leaf, a branch maybe or just a rat passing by. But that was enough to send her running as fast as she could. Her instinct was the only thing guiding her at this point. She needed to get help, to find people she could trust. She needed to go somewhere safe.

---

All the lights were out inside the house. They probably hadn’t gone home yet. The case could have turned more complicated than anticipated. But she didn’t feel like waiting for them in the street with blood trickling down her arm. She felt dizzy and lightheaded, her throat was sore from the cold autumn breeze and her wound wasn’t getting any better. She climbed the few steps in front of the door, her right hand in front of her in case she tripped. As she got to  the door, she kneeled and retrieved her hooks from the sock where she always kept them. Her dad had always told her this skill would come in handy. At the time she didn’t believe him but still let her teach her. It was a fun father-daughter activity after all. But right now, with the pain she was in, she truly blessed him for having weird hobbies.

In three clicks she unlocked the door and stepped inside without worrying about the noise she made. Her head was heavy and relief flooded her as soon as she closed the door behind her. It didn’t matter that her day had ended up worse than the day before. It didn’t matter that this seemed unconceivable yesterday. The fight, Dufour, the chase, all of it was behind her now. She was safe. As she stepped deeper into the house the walls started spinning. The masks on the wall looked like they were mocking her. She felt the urge to dismiss them with the back of her hand. A sharp pain shot through her arm as she lifted it. She cried out and didn’t notice Lockwood coming down the stairs.

“y/n? What are you doing?”

She hadn’t heard him coming and jumped in surprise, prompting another sharp pain in her left arm.

“y/n? What’s wrong? Wait how did you get in?”

At that she smiled faintly. But her head was spinning too much. Her knees buckled. She saw movement in front of her as the floor got closer before she collapsed in the hall.

#lockwood and co fic #lockwood and co #ukuwrites #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co imagine

[bijouxcarys]

Spotlight (Robert Plant x fem!OC)

Masterlist

Description: Robert Plant has been pining over Mallory Jackson for more than a year now, admiring her from afar, as many around the world did. But on the night of his Shaken 'N' Stirred release party in New York, he finds out just how much the pining is reciprocated…

Word count: 9.8k

Tags: @celestial-dragoness @callmethehunter @firethatgrewsolow @chromations @tangerine1969 @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @angrychicksposts @inanebula @strsmn @m-faithfull @friccinfricks

1980s Britain. A time teeming with unemployment, depression, inflation, and political instability. Regular folk made do with the circumstances they found themselves in, and stars laid down their egos in support of those who made them who they were. Little boys wanted to be Indiana Jones, and little girls pined for their pop star fantasy. And every teenager sought for an escape from the pressures of knowing their carefree years were rapidly coming to an end.

Husbands worked endless hours, housewives worked to maintain a semblance of balance. And within each of these homes, under layers of unpaid bills and rent, sat the one form of media everyone could enjoy, afford, and revisit.

Magazines.

Feminine faces plastered on cover after cover, all with different stories, different styles… maybe one day that little girl could look like that, or that teenager would be able to attract someone as ethereal to marry.

A model’s world is not just about her hair, her eyes, or her body. It’s the very essence she possesses. It seeps through the glossy paper, and speaks to you, captivates you... If she’s talented enough. 

And those talented enough were lucky enough to enjoy the subsequent luxury of being a star.

Mallory had laboured in her desire for success. For fame. Just the word alone was enough to set her soul ablaze. She studied her own reflection for hours on end to perfect her movements; where to place her hands, which angle to tilt her head in, how wide her eyes should be. By 17, she’d suffered a dozen rejection letters, but it only fuelled her further. 

She would not stop until she had the best of the best. Until she was the best of the best.

That came at 20, when a chance encounter at a coffee shop led her to becoming a featured face throughout the August 1983 edition of Elle magazine. With time, people started to compare her to the likes of Elizabeth Taylor with a Brooke Shields oddity. 

By her 21st birthday, she’d become the face of i-D, Harper’s Bazaar, and Vogue. She’s garnered the attention of many, including the powerful Hugh Hefner of Playboy, and whichever big-time artist found themselves in need of a pretty face with long legs and a stern work ethic.

Amongst those big-time artists infiltrating the charts and taking advantage of the skyrocketing commercialism, laid the has-beens of the 60s and 70s, approaching middle-age and desperate to adopt modern styles, trends, and sentiments. A whole new generation, a whole new audience to win over—to remind that they were once akin to a God.

Yet, lurking in the shadows of modern pop, those with the desire to evolve as artists went about their lives, steadily adapting to the new era. 

Robert Plant embodied the latter, and was terrified of the former.

He welcomed the 80s with open arms, though he didn’t have much of a choice. Something had to change. And it did. Between the separation of Zeppelin, and later his wife of 15 years, Robert embraced his new life. He enjoyed his solo career, cherishing every experience and endeavour.

Not one to turn his nose up at the ever changing landscape of entertainment, he chose to live it.

Savour everything it had to offer, earthly pleasures and all.

Happy with the moderate following his solo career had garnered, and therefore the buzz surrounding his newest venture Shaken ‘N’ Stirred, Robert did what he did best and celebrated in style.

Of course, he recognised her from across the room, his release party in full swing. He wasn’t immune to stumbling across certain magazines, and the occasional advertisement in Piccadilly Circus, that had the lovely Mallory’s face plastered all over. Even from afar, through the gaps between each bustling attendee, she surpassed any expectation set in place by her media presence.

It was like a spotlight consumed her, everywhere she went.

He’d heard whispers that she may be attending this evening, and though he didn’t vocalise it, he secretly hoped she would. After all, it was a rarity for her to miss a release party of this candour. Unapologetic in her lust for life, and her zest for the glitz and glamour that came with every superficial venture she’d taken in her 22 years on Earth.

Mallory had already lived the life of someone twice her age, and Robert could sense it. Even through cover pages, television screens, or lit-up billboards. It was potent. Heavy.

And something he found oh so alluring.

Never had Robert felt particularly nervous to approach a girl, or at the very least the pressure to impress one. Not in a very long time. Usually, they flocked to him. He was the one to lay back, and let his magnetic aura attract every female of every shape, size, culture, height, and age. Then, he could meticulously cherry pick a handful to make his for the night, and if she was lucky, one would stay in contact with him.

Not tonight.

In his alcohol-induced buzz, Robert had encountered multiple women already throughout the night. He’d cuddled up to them, given them all the attention they needed within the boundaries of a public setting. But what he really wanted—no, needed—was that raven-haired young woman sucking on a lemon slice after a particularly strong shot of tequila. The symbolism was not lost on him.

Unbeknownst to him, Mallory had been subtly sizing up Robert throughout the entire soirée. Starting near the entrance, she engaged in chit-chat with anyone within earshot—maybe more than your average person would have found charming. But Mallory wasn’t your run-of-the-mill guest; she revelled in the attention and the curious eyes that inevitably followed her every move in her own stardom.

While graciously accepting compliments and manoeuvring through corporate-esque small talk, Mallory had a mental map of the room, like a seasoned explorer navigating uncharted terrain. She strategically identified groups that formed a path leading to the centre of attention—Robert himself. Direct approaches weren’t her style; Mallory operated with finesse.

To say she felt self-assured with each step toward Robert would be an understatement. Approaching big names was familiar territory for her; any inkling of anxiety evaporated as adrenaline surged with the realisation that he was her next target.

Luck was on her side as Robert wrapped up a conversation with another woman who gracefully excused herself. He momentarily froze mid-sip when he turned to find Mallory, the captivating woman he’d been eyeing all night, closing in. However, he quickly composed himself, a smirk playing on his lips.

Taking a moment to appreciate her attire, he couldn’t help but notice how elegantly it gripped her curves—just as he had dreamed about doing all night. Her chest, a perfectly sculpted feature, held his gaze a tad longer than necessary. The silk dress she wore left little to the imagination, but having seen her modelling lingerie, he effortlessly pictured the little black number crumpled on his bedroom floor.

“Fancy seeing you here, Mr Plant,” she teased, a friendly smile gracing her lips, painted in a muted maroon that seemed to hold the secrets of a thousand whispered conversations.

God, her voice—a velvet symphony that played on the edges of Robert’s senses. His signature smirk, a mischievous dance on his lips, responded to her greeting. “What are the odds, eh? Almost like it’s my party,” he quipped, his smile deepening at the spark in her eyes, a laughter-filled serenade.

“Well, they don’t just let anyone run loose in a place like this in New York.” She tilted her head, a subtle game of observation playing in the depths of her eyes, decoding every nuance in his reactions and emotions.

“My dear, truer words have never been spoken,” he replied, a conspiratorial glint in his gaze. His free arm, an extension of casual confidence, wound itself around her shoulders. The smirk mirrored on her perfect lips, couples with the smoky allure in her eyes, hinted at her unspoken approval. She, too, seemed to yield to the gravitational pull, stepping closer into the captivating orbit he had initiated.

“How would you know who they do and don’t let in here, anyway?” he inquired, his head tilting down toward her, his hand maintaining a firm grip on her shoulder.

“Hmm,” she mused, allowing a tantalising pause to hang in the air, leaving him to wonder. “I’ve gotten around quite a bit,” she confessed with a cheeky grin, savouring his immediate interpretation. “Not quite in the way your imagination might conjure… though, I wouldn’t entirely rule that out.”

“So, that settles the burning question of ‘What exactly does Mallory Jackson do when she’s not enchanting the world with her incomparable beauty?’” he bantered, audacity colouring his words.

Mallory’s brows arched, a hint of astonishment gracing her features at his fearless demeanour. Yet, she reminded herself, this was Robert Plant—slightly tipsy and delightfully unpredictable. One could never predict what gems might spill from his gifted mouth.

“You know who I am, then?” she asked, a blend of question and confirmation.

“You don’t sound very surprised, luv.”

Mallory chuckled silkily, gracefully circling around to position herself directly in front of him. Her hand glided up, securing a steady hold on his button-up shirt. Gently drawing him closer, she practically purred up at him:

“Darling… Everyone knows who I am.”

With a daring yet barely-there peck on Robert’s lips, she released him. A rush of power surged through her, sending sparks of newfound confidence coursing through her nerve endings, even the most sacred ones.

Whilst she backed up, her hand remained delicately wrapped around his wrist, giving him a small squeeze in a silent provocation. His eyes narrowed down at her, as if trying to decode her. Figure her out. A fellow Brit in The Big Apple, young and carefree—a little like him at his most naive. But Mallory held something he didn’t when Zeppelin made their US debut; wisdom. A 22-year-old drowning in the misery of wisdom only someone twice her age could muster. She took the menacing possibility of a downtrodden existence, kicked it into another universe, and took life by the horns.

I have to have her.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked him, her hair dangling to the side with the movements of her head. She had a knowing smirk on her lips, the question sounding as rhetoric.

Composing himself, Robert met her gaze, equally as intense and foreboding. Then, suddenly, he manoeuvred his hand to her waist, drawing her back into him with a steady force. Lowering his head closer to hers, he dropped his voice to a beguiling utter.

“I’m thinkin’ about how much I’d like to see this pretty dress on my hotel room floor.”

Mallory’s breath caught in her throat, the admission expected but achieving the effects of the most delicate foreplay. The cluster of people around them became insignificant to her, to him, the moment unfolding as a telepathic agreement.

“What else?” she dared to ask, her hand tentatively moving up to his muscular arm, fingers tightening around the material of his button-up. 

“I’m not sure I should divulge such classified information in such a public setting…” 

Running her tongue along her teeth, she tilted her head upwards to look Robert in the eye. Challenging him. “Well…” she breathed, her eyes flicking down to his lips for a brief moment. “Perhaps you should… show me… in a more… private setting?”

Got her.

Thickly swallowing, Robert cleared his throat and idly passed his almost empty cup off to a random passerby, before swiftly taking Mallory’s hand and leading her away from the crowd and out into the hallway.

Got him.

Mallory discarded her own cup on a nearby table quickly enough to allow herself to be swept away by Robert in the direction of the conjoined hotel lobby located just at the end of the narrow hallway. She kept quiet as he slowed the pace and bid the receptionist a good night, the girl responding with a flustered smile. Mallory smirked at her reaction, squeezing onto Robert’s hand as they enclosed themselves in one of the elevators.

“Seems like you have quite the influence around here, Mr Plant,” she teased, allowing him to take her into his arms after pressing the required button to his floor.

“Yeah? And what gives you that idea, Miss Jackson?” He freely lowered his hands to hold onto her waist, twitching below at how nicely she fit between his palms.

“The receptionist.”

“Hmm, pretty girl, isn’t she?” He narrowed his eyes, gauging Mallory’s reaction. Half expecting her to respond with an air of jealousy, as most girls would, and have.

“She most definitely is,” she simply agreed, matching his intense stare.

“Perhaps I should ask her to join us?” Testing the waters. Slowly. Steady, Rob.

“As enticing of an offer as that sounds,” she started, rolling her hips forward to get a taste of what he had waiting for her under those trousers. “Maybe that can wait for another time… I want you all to myself tonight.”

Robert let out a gruff breath, lifting a hand to hold onto the side of Mallory’s head. “You are such a little minx,” he grunted, before pulling her forward and finally locking his lips with hers in an intense kiss. She practically melted, letting out all of the tension building up inside her through an exhale as she meshed her lips with his. He was frantic, needy. Hoisting her up the elevator’s wall by hooking his arms around her legs, until she had no choice but to wrap them around his waist. 

Their tongues rippled in a circular motion, caressing each other in a silky swirl. They tasted like vodka and orange. Smelled like the clash of perfume and cologne, and a light musk from the heated environment. But no heat could match the one stirring between her legs as she arched into him, his greedy hands grabbing all over as he devoured her with his kiss.

When Robert’s lips made a steady journey down the expanse of her neck, the grip of her fingers on his shirt tightened. Desperate. A passionate yearn for more. A choked moan rumbled in her throat as he bared his teeth, gentle ridges nipping harshly at her delicate skin.

Mallory glanced at the row of golden buttons, a wave of relief washing over her as she saw they still had some time to be wrapped up like this before they reached the 7th floor.

“You better not be leaving marks on me.”

“Or what?”

“Ugh,” she huffed, her head resting back against the mirrored walls of the lift. Surrendering to his actions. Like it was meant to happen. His smirk was felt against her as he continued, holding the other side of her neck as he bit down brusquely, hollowing his cheeks and sucking like his life depended on it. It seemed to last forever, like he was draining her of her energy. Her ability to maintain her composure. Pain was pleasure, goosebumps spiking every inch of unclothed skin. 

Her legs tightened around him as he released her with a faint pop. He then kissed over the mark he’d made, satisfied with how deep of a shade it was, even upon completion, knowing it would only darken throughout the course of the evening.

“If I could bite a perfect ‘R’ along your beautiful skin, I would…” he breathed, jutting forward to nip at her lower lip. “But I guess impaling you on my cock will have to do.”

Oh, my goodness… Her breathing hitched, stunned at his words. She knew he was good, but not this good…

“You have no clue how long I’ve wanted you to speak to me like that,” she hummed, head light and fuzzy at the sensation of Robert’s fingers forking through her hair.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” she nodded. “Ever since I bought my first record… I heard that voice…” She ran the tip of her finger around the collar of his shirt, the ding from the lift sending a jolt of anticipation straight to her cunt. With a smirk, she whispered hotly against his lips. “And I knew I had to have you one day…”

It was a challenge for Robert to navigate the stretched out corridors of the New York hotel, his room located right down at the bottom, but seemed much further. His brain was imploding, going through all the things he wanted to do to the woman he had under his arm. She was so perfect. He wanted to do everything and more. He couldn’t choose a single sordid move to focus his mind on, even for a second.

He imagined her on top, underneath, on her side, on all fours. Against a wall, over a table, out on the bloody balcony. He wanted her in every position, anywhere, and everywhere.

What does she taste like? A lady of such elegance and beauty has to taste sweeter than the finest honey curated from the softest hive…

To swallow her, eat her up, indulge—to get wholly doped up on her essence. What a tale for the cerebral chronicle of his 37 years on Earth.

“Do you like whiskey?”

He had briefly subdued, painfully suppressed, his fantasies for a moment to cater to the gallant nature of his heart. Mallory appreciated it; to know he wasn’t wanting a quick fuck and dump. A long term situation appeared out of the question, and she knew that going into this, but she was not about to be used as a swift fix to satiate a libidinous rockstar.

She wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

“I do, as a matter of fact,” she answered, admiring the interior of his room. “I drink like an old man…” she casually added.

Robert chuckled, pouring two short glasses of Aberlour-Glenlivet on the rocks. “That, my dear,” he spun, passing her one of the drinks, “Is the best way to drink.” They lightly clinked their glasses together and took sips with the sweet accompaniment of eye contact, countering the bitter bite of the liquor.

As Mallory licked her lips, savouring the expensive taste, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. With a hum, she brushed her hair behind her shoulder, tilting her head to inspect Robert’s damage on her neck. Huffing in amusement, she raised and lowered an eyebrow.

“My make-up team is going to hate covering this up…”

He grinned crookedly, chewing his lip in boyish wonder. Proud of himself. Elated that he’d caused such semi-permanent markings that would remind her of him every day—long enough to stir the most tawdry thoughts. Enough to make her want more.

And he wanted to make more.

“Can’t say I’m sorry, darlin’.”

Mallory smirked at him. “Can’t say I’m surprised by that statement, Mr Plant.”

“You love it, though,” he shrugged, taking another sip. She merely gave him a smile of concurrence, knowing he had hit the nail on the head. She did love it. 

Robert watched her like a hawk, from her red-bottom stilettos, up her sculpted, shiny legs, and straight to her long and layered dark locks, as she stalked the room with an unconscious refinement, finally reaching the bed, where she lowered herself to sit on the edge of the plush quilt.

“So. I guess it’s my turn to ask you.” She crossed one leg over the other, leaning forward to rest her arms over her leg. Like down at the party, he unabashedly feasted his eyes on the way her dress crumpled at the neckline, soft landscapes of her chest shimmering in the low lighting of his temporary home.

“Ask me what, luv?” With a hand in his pocket, he himself strode over slowly, stopping a healthy distance that allowed him to peruse to his heart’s desire.

“What does the incomparable Robert Plant do when he’s not dazzling the world with his unearthly vocals and…” She looked him up and down. “...Inebriating allure?”

What a way with words… He’d heard girls shower him with compliments for years now, and they all spoke of the same broad insinuations. Mallory left no room for insinuation, and all the room for a response as true as the blonde spiralling from his head.

“Well,” he inhaled, “When I’m not prancing around on stage, I tend to spend my time reading… possibly a bit of football here and there…” He trailed off, a roguish leer tugging at his lips as he averted his eyes. “And on occasion…” He took a smooth step closer to Mallory, the blue in his regard flooding her dusky gaze. “I get to take care of some of nature’s most sublime creations.”

Whilst stricken by his choice of words, she couldn’t help but stifle a small laugh, raising her glass up to her lips. “Don’t tell me it’s only on occasion.”

Robert responded with a chuckle of his own, and faux timidity in a one-shoulder shrug. “I’m sure yer well aware of my escapades, Miss Jackson, but I can assure you it’s not every day I get to spend my evenings in the presence of someone like you.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asked, tilting her head with a playful grin. “What do you mean by that?”

“What I mean is,” Another step closer. She had to crane her neck upwards to meet his eyes now. “It isn’t often I get to be with someone I just so happened to be fawning over for months myself…” Robert’s eyes shifted to the small collection of magazines at the foot of the bed. Mallory followed his line of sight and felt her face flush crimson.

Paper media with her face, her body, plastered on the front page. Vogue, Elle, Harper’s Bazaar… and her infamous Playboy appearance.

With a somewhat jesting expression, she leaned over and pulled the latter from the collection, her eyebrow raising suggestively in his direction. Placing her glass of whiskey on the bedside table, she flipped through the September 1984 issue, chuckling to herself.

“People hated me for this, you know,” she told him apathetically. The bed dipped beside her as Robert took a close seat, his jeans confidently brushing against her bare leg. Without a second thought, she boldly moved her ankle over his shin, her foot dangling in a carefree manner at the end of the crossed-over leg. Her eyes, however, stayed glued to the pages in her hands.

“Why did people hate it?” Robert asked, leaning closer to her to peer over her shoulder. His chin skimmed her shoulder, breath dangerously close to her neck once again.

“I don’t know…” she mumbled. “I think people saw me as more of a… reserved person. With a little more class, I guess.” She shrugged, turning the page to the centrefold. Robert pressed his lips gingerly to her shoulder, dragging them along the thin black strap of her dress.

“Seems pretty classy to me, luv,” he hummed, moving his lips closer to her neck. “I, for one, thought it was one of the more elegant features. I mean, look at that…” His hand crept along her arm, fingertips hot in their wake as he trailed them over the pages. He paid special attention to the main shot of Mallory, wearing nothing but a sheer lingerie set. Not quite nude, but just scandalous enough to be axed from the more family friendly brands.

Robert went quiet as he took a moment to appreciate the beauty as he had done time after time already. It struck him, somewhere deep down in his gut, how one could only just see the slightly darker skin of her nipples through the pricey lace bra she adorned. How the same could be said for the flimsy material of her underwear, strategically covering all the places he wanted to admire so badly, but not opaque enough to conceal the dark patch of hair between her legs. It left barely anything to the imagination.

“You’re the perfect little tease, Mallory,” he continued, a slight rasp in his throat. His finger continued to trace her body on the page. “You could have bared all for everyone to gawk at, yet you didn’t.”

Mallory’s cheeks remained tinted a light pink, unknowingly tilting her body towards him, resting into the arm that held him up behind her. “That was the idea behind it… They weren’t completely sold on it, but I insisted. And I told them that if it wasn’t good enough for them, then I could always leave, and they wouldn’t have a special feature for that month anymore.” She glanced at him. “Needless to say, it worked,” she emphasised with a smirk.

Robert returned the smirk, leaning closer into her. A bold one… “Good for you, luv.” He was still transfixed on the photo, his finger stopping on her painted lips as though he was feeling the plush flesh in person. Then, he steadily traced his digit further down, over her chest, her stomach, and finally to her cleverly concealing underwear. His finger lingered there, making small stroking motions, before he took a deep breath. The gesture had Mallory squeezing her thighs together under the glossy covers of the magazine, unable to eliminate the thought of him touching her rather than the photo.

“And now,” he breathed, lowering his hand from the pages and to her leg, his palm hot against her skin as he squeezed into the flesh of her thigh. “I get to have the real thing…”

With that, he gently took the magazine from Mallory’s hands, placing it back where it belonged, before taking his own whiskey from his other hand and placing it beside hers on the bedside table. On his journey back, he caught her in another kiss.

He slowly guided her onto her back, his broad form hovering over her. Her hands gripped at his shirt once again, tugging at it needily as her tongue reunited with his. Robert breathed out through his nose against her, deepening the kiss in a desperate attempt to consume her entire being. Propping himself up on his elbow, his free hand caressed every inch of her body within reach. The silk of her dress was soft in his touch as it lowered to her legs once again.

He kept her completely distracted and caught up in the passion in their kiss, taking her by surprise when he inched his hand up her inner thigh. She sighed against the smirk on his face, still connected by their lips, as he reached a familiar lace she had hidden away.

The pads of his fingertips pressed down daringly along her clothed core, an obvious dampness to the material that had been building up all night. Her leg instinctively fell to the side, giving him easier access, allowing him to slip his hand into her underwear with an unrestrained hankering.

Her intimate curls were as soft as the silk, and Robert found himself relieved of her defiance in the face of popular trends. He broke the kiss momentarily, searching her eyes as his middle finger stroked along her slick folds, bearing a teasing pressure that made her hold on his shirt intensify and her lips part in the release of a breathy sigh.

“Have I gotten you all worked up, darlin’?” Robert asked with a smug glint in his eye. Peppering her chin and the ticklish spot just below her lips with the lightest kisses, he pressed further down against her, his finger easily slipping past her folds. A pleased grunt escaped him as he massaged the hot flesh.

“Robert…” she half moaned, half sighed, before attempting to grind her hips upwards, needy for more friction.

“Nuh-uh,” He shook his head, hooking a leg around hers to keep her tamed. “Just relax, Mallory. We aren’t in any rush, eh?”

“No, I guess we’re not,” she huffed. Robert couldn’t stop the laugh that fell from his lips at her impatience.

“Oh, is this the part where I find out you’re also a little brat?”

Whimpering, she pulled at his collar. “I’m not a brat!”

“Shh,” he subdued her, covering her mouth with a heated kiss, pressing her back down into the bed. It didn’t take long for the kiss to become frantic, a symphonic blend of his breaths, her moans, and the growing wetness below.

It was messy, the way they grabbed at one another. His hand clamped onto her hair, hers replicating the tugging motion on his. Robert’s other hand, trapped between her weeping cunt and the soft lace, performed the most erotic dance. From circling her tiny pearl, to dipping two fingers into her tight entrance.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you,” he hissed, sloppy kisses trailing down her neck. He revelled in the way she arched into him, her head hanging back as one strap fell from her shoulder. His lips had reached the neckline of her dress, and he needed more. As his fingers continually pumped in and out of her, seemingly on their own accord, he made the animalistic move to pull the strap down further, easily allowing him access to part of her chest.

Even though the dress she had worn all night provided little protection against the cold night air beyond the walls of their coital labyrinth, the air around them hit her harsher than any blizzard once Robert had gained access to her breasts. His mouth was strikingly hot as he wasted no time in taking a nipple into it, suckling and swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub. His fingers, sending her into overdrive, so long and deep inside her. If he could make her feel like this by just his fingers alone, she struggled to even fathom what his cock could do to her.

Her fingers thread and clamped around his hair as he nuzzled her chest, progressively increasing the speed of his hand. He could barely believe his luck, oddly enough, that he had this goddess of a woman laid over his bed. That he was able to feel how hot and inviting her cunt was, even if it was just his fingers. And although he was going to wait to feel her cum, to taste her sweet release, he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

Mallory’s arm wrapped around his neck when he came back up to trap her in another kiss. She breathed heavily against his lips, his palm brushing against her clit with vigour, perfectly in tandem with the rhythm he had curated with his tepid digits.

“Fuck, Robert,” she moaned against his lips, her hand shooting down to hold onto his arm, feeling the muscles tensing and rocking with each movement he made.

Robert clenched his jaw, watching every contour of her face. “I was gunna try and wait it out, darlin’, but I don’t think I can. I need to watch you cum on my fingers…” His voice was not far from a growl, as though he was already inside her, milking himself with her body. Yet, he was still safely tucked away in his jeans, hardness surely growing, but purely trivial in the event of her pleasure.

“Well, if you keep going, you won’t have to wait for very long…” she purred up at him. What was supposed to come as a sultry tease, instead came as a breathless whisper. She was already on the edge. “Oh, God…” she groaned, head pressing back into the bed.

Robert scanned over her body, down to the rapid movement of his hand between her legs. He imagined how soaked she’d make his fingers, how they would glisten upon removal. Without having to see her, he already knew he wouldn’t be able to resist a taste. 

She was going to cum over and over again tonight. He’d make sure of it.

“Mm, I can feel how close you are, darlin’,” he rumbled, biting his lip as she writhed beneath him. “Look at me, Mallory.”

The command was simple enough. But there was an underlying desperation in his tone that prompted her to lift her head, locking her eyes with his. Giving her a satisfied smirk, he pressed their foreheads together.

“That’s it… I want to see those pretty eyes when you cum.”

Her hand slipped into the collar of his shirt, nails digging into the back of his neck as he finally let her grind her hips into his hand. Fucking his fingers, wishing it was his cock. But that would come later. Patience, Mal…

Mallory was panting, chest rising and falling. She couldn’t escape the piercing lock of his eyes. They brought her closer and closer, each second, until it was impossible to hold it in any longer.

Robert barely noticed he was holding his breath, as if he was awaiting a monumental moment—well, he was. To make this amazing woman feel good. He breathed out, sharply and hotly, feeling the burn in his muscles as Mallory finally convulsed around his digits, and a long whine fell from her lips.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” she moaned.

“That’s a good girl,” Robert nodded, grinning as he ground his own hips into her, desperate for friction against his hardened length. “You look so beautiful when you cum.”

Placing her hand over his, she gyrated and inhaled deeply as she rode out her orgasm. Once she’d let his hand go, he gently slipped it out of her underwear, leaving her empty and wanting more. His fingers were glistening, soaked.

Looking her in the eye, he proceeded to drag his tongue over the pads of his fingers, savouring the teaser.

“Hmm…” he hummed, before lowering his hand to her lips, performing a discerning swipe over them. “Open up, darlin’,” he whispered, biting his lip as she obliged, and slipped the digits into her mouth. She clamped her lips around his fingers, tongue swirling around them to catch a taste of her own juices.

With a provocative flourish, she took his fingers as far down her throat as they could get. Her smoky eyes were hooded as she let them go with an audible pop.

“I’m gunna tell you somethin’ now, luv,” he grumbled, lowering his head down to hum in a captivating candour. “I’m not usually one to listen to gossip, but…” He gently nibbled at her earlobe. “I’ve heard some interesting things about you and your… talents.”

She snorted, their fingers automatically threading together. “Elaborate?”

Robert chuckled, squeezing her hand. “Hm, well let’s just say that it’s got somethin’ to do with yer mouth.” He kissed down her neck and returned back to her chest, tugging the other strap down.

“Why don’t you just take it off?” she laughed, noticing his hunger. 

“Good point,” he snickered, moving up on his knees.

The previously heavy-with-lust air had dissipated momentarily as Robert helped Mallory remove her dress. There was a hint of humour in each movement, a subdued and disguised excitement that they were doing this. Two humans with a large following, unknowingly following each other since the dawning of their careers, finally coming together to execute the most exquisite dance of prolonged pining.

Eventually, Robert had to remove his shirt, feeling too constricted and restrained. Then again, anyone with common sense would have to alleviate themselves in some way or another upon the glorious sight of Mallory Jackson in nothing but her lace knickers and sharp heels.

“Where are you going now?” Mallory asked with a smile as Robert turned to rummage through his bags.

“Stay there, I’ve got something ‘ere… Where the fuck is it…” he mumbled to himself. “Ah! Found it…”

In his hands, as he spun on his heel, was an immaculately kempt Canon T80. A camera she was no stranger to.

“If you don’t mind?” Robert asked, cocking his head to the side like an innocent Alsation. “I’d like to have some mementos.” His smile was boyish, mischievous. Quintessentially Robert.

“Darling, I spend my life on camera,” she purred. “Of course I don’t mind.”

“Naughty girl,” he jested, chewing his lip as he turned the camera on and lowered onto one knee.

“The most interesting proposal I’ve ever seen,” she teased his stance, before getting up onto her knees in the middle of the bed. “Tell me how you want me.”

Like a starved boy for juvenile satisfaction, Robert proceeded to instruct Mallory on pose after pose, making sure to catch her at all the same angles he adored whenever he spotted them in magazines, billboards, and on the television. But these would be for him, not the rest of the world.

“My God, you really are gorgeous, aren’t you?” Robert murmured, mostly to himself, as Mallory stretched out across the bed on her stomach, hips raised and ankles crossed in the air. Her hair was draped perfectly over her back, a majority of it falling behind her shoulder so Robert and his camera could catch her face. She truly was a natural at working a camera, understanding all of the singer’s instructions, no matter how much he struggled to direct her at times.

With Robert’s eyes so fixed on her body placement, he didn’t even notice that she was hungrily eyeing the bulge in his jeans. It was so prominent every time he leaned forward, or shifted his weight. God, she wanted him in her mouth, in her hand, in her cunt. She didn’t care, she just needed him buried deep inside her.

“‘Kay, that’s enough of that for now…” he rose to his feet, setting the camera down on the bedside table, next to the glasses of whiskey and melted ice.

“Did you get everything you wanted, Mr Plant?” She smirked, watching him unbuckle his belt.

“Hm, almost, darlin’.” He dragged his eyes over her form, still laying her stomach down on the bed. Her backside was so perfectly round, just waiting for his handprints, his lips, his hands. Anything.

Noticing this, Mallory pushed herself up onto all fours, back arching in a tantalising fashion. It was almost like she was a doll, perched patiently on a shelving unit, waiting for him to take her as his own and play with her to his heart’s desire.

And he did just that; he instructed her to stay as she was, limiting her ability to see as he pulled his remaining item of clothing from his body. Mallory knew that, just inches away from her, was Robert in all his nude glory. All she could do was listen as the bedsheets rustled. Eventually, she felt his large hands encase her hips, fingers teasing along the hemline of her underwear.

“Sit up, luv…” She obliged, propping herself up on her knees and leaning back. Swiftly, he tugged her further, landing her on his lap. Fuck, she could feel him.

Robert’s eyes roamed every inch of her, from her shapely curves hugging his hips, to her ruffled hair, lengthy and wavy down the expanse of her back. He took his time, praising her soft skin with the tips of his fingers. He could tell she was getting impatient; he knew she could feel how hard he was for her, and she had no choice but to deal with it through nothing but a thin material separating the two.

Mallory shifted her hips, eliciting a sigh from her lips. With a smirk, he moved his hands around to sneak them upwards, barely touching her.

“Robert…” she warned.

He chuckled darkly, before suddenly pulling her hips downwards, thrusting his own upwards to grind against her clothed core.

“Shall we get these off, baby?” he hummed with a gravelly tinge, pulling at her knickers and letting them go to twang against her skin. She couldn’t have moved any faster as she practically ripped the underwear off, not caring if she actually did tear some of the delicate lace in the process. “Bit eager, aren’t we?”

“Well, yeah, you’ve been teasing me,” she huffed with a small roll of her eyes. Robert couldn’t help but smirk, enjoying the small glimpses into her defiant character.

“Bit of a mouth on ya, eh?” He raised and lowered his eyebrows before ushering her back on top of him. “I want you this way…” He smirked to himself.

Before she knew it, her thighs were encasing his head, and she was face to face with his rock-hard length. Hm, she thought. Just as big as what people say…

She couldn’t wait to have him inside of her. To feel those veins against the slick walls of her awaiting cunt. The flutters had already begun, his breath mere inches from where she needed him.

His hands ran over her thighs as he took in the view, not sure if he wanted to delve in, or just admire a little longer. But, alas, the temptation was far too strong, and he had to take a taste. With an urgency, he pulled her down against him, attaching his lips to her weeping folds.

“Fuck!” she gasped, grabbing onto his leg to steady herself as his tongue lashed away at her. He growled against her, fingers digging into the plush flesh of her backside.

Mallory tried her best to keep up with him, giving the head of his cock kitten licks and light suction. She knew if she truly matched up to his actions, he wouldn’t last much longer, even though she’d barely touched him. It was obvious, the way his red hot tip seeped translucent pearly drops.

She writhed, moaned, whimpered, whined, through Robert’s every motion. He was unrelenting, flicking and swirling at her swollen clit, hot breath hitting her in all the right places. Her hand was obedient, running it up and down the length of his cock, squeezing at the tip, practically drooling at the sight.

Through her daze, she just about managed to catch Robert’s subtle gesture for her to stop her movements on him, before fully engrossing himself in her hot core. Tugging at her, he brought her even further up until she had her palms flat on his toned stomach. She followed the rhythm his hands set for her hips, steadily grinding against every suck and lather.

“Oh, fuck… yes…” she hissed, jolting at the sudden sensation of his tongue teasing just a little further upwards, testing the waters of unknown territory. She was sure she could feel the smirk on his face, but was too enthralled with his talented mouth to think too far into it.

“D-don’t stop…” she airily pleaded, wincing when one of Robert’s strong, ringed hands, landed a brisk slap against her skin.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he almost inaudibly grunted, words muffled by her cunt as he feasted. “Mm—cum on my tongue, baby, do it...” He was rambling by this point, the experience just as pleasurable for him as it was for her.

Back arching, she edged closer and closer. Making a steadfast approach to her second orgasm of the night. And when it finally hit, Robert’s fingers dug so harshly into her backside that they’d surely leave marks. Another thing for her makeup team to cover up…

He hollowed his cheeks as he drank in her release, chin covered in her essence. Thighs shaking beside his head, her body convulsed and jolted at the growing sensitivity she knew would compliment the inevitable release exquisitely.

She shakily ran her hand through her hair, clearing her vision of the few strands that had adhered themselves to her skin, as she crawled further down the bed to turn and face Robert. In his own world, he was busy licking his lips, enjoying the aftertaste of Mallory Jackson. Even better than he expected, which was a lot.

“I guess… it’s true what they say,” she breathed, inching closer to him until he could wrap his arms around her. “With age, comes wisdom.”

“Wisdom in what, luv?” he asked with a smirk, fingers threading through her hair. He caught her blush, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. “Time allows a man to learn the ins and outs of pleasing women…” he trailed off, a smug, crooked smirk on his lips. “...Not that I’ve struggled much in the past…”

Mallory rolled her eyes at him again with an amused chortle. “My God, all you rockstars are the same…”

Robert’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh yeah? And why’s that, then?”

“The… pseudo-arrogance is potent, my love,” she hummed.

“Pseudo?”

“Mhm…” she nodded, pulling him to her, steering his form on top of her, where he wedged himself between her legs. The heels of her stilettos grazed dangerously over Robert’s lower back, threatening to press down at any moment. She revelled in the instability—the unknowing in her inner sadist. It could come out at any point.

“You don’t believe I’m actually arrogant, then?” he asked, glancing to the side in slight trepidation at the feeling of her heels on him.

Mallory smirked, choosing to ignore the elephant in the room as she innocently, nonchalantly answered him. “No…” Her voice was a whisper, genuine and smooth, a stark contrast to the sordid threat lower down the bed. “I think you’re amazing,” she started, running her hands down his fuzzy chest, finger stopping to play with the pendant of one of the two necklaces dangling from him. “Talented…” Stroking his ego as gently as she did his chest. “One of the most gorgeous people I’ve ever seen.”

In such an intimate moment, Robert practically inhaled her praise. Her words proved her authenticity—she wanted to take the time to catch his aura before jumping into bed with him. Just like he had done with her. They knew each other from a gargantuan distance, never face to face apart from endless forms of media, but now they bonded. Souls adhered, now on the precipice of partaking in a lustful union of mutual attraction.

“And if you don’t mind me saying,” she finally took the plunge, applying the smallest amount of pressure into his back with her heel, causing him to careen forward, hips unintentionally gyrating into hers. He still had his hands clasped around her back, and he couldn’t help the need to pull her into him, bodies pressing flush against each other.

“You’re the only man who’s managed to make me cum more than once without actually fucking me.”

Fuck… He swallowed harshly, eyes narrowing down at her. He was certain this woman could make him come undone without actually touching him. 

“Well…” he sighed, exasperatedly. “I’m honoured to be the only one to do th–”

“No, I didn’t say the only one…” she interrupted, smoothly kicking off her heels and pushing them off the side of the bed. Robert’s brows furrowed in confusion, searching her eyes.

“I said the only man…”

It took him a minute to understand, but once he did, he felt his cock jump at the mere thought of Mallory and another woman. And she felt it.

“Fucking hell, Mallory…” he breathed out against her, lips teasingly close to hers. “That’s why you said about…”

“About the receptionist,” she giggled with a nod. “Now…” she giddily bit her lip, rolling her hips upwards. “I need you inside me.”

“Yer don’t have to ask me twice, darlin’.” With a peck on her lips, he leaned back on his heels, parting her thighs with a pressure that angled her in such a lewd manner. “You’d be surprised how many girls get rid of this nowadays…” he commented whilst running his hand up her leg to her mound, dark curls partly glittering with her arousal. “I don’t know why anyone would do that.” He shrugged, before focusing on the tip of his cock, dragging it along her slick folds, up to her clit, and then back down where he pushed against her, finally, yet steadily, filling her with his girth.

Mallory’s eyes fluttered shut as he did, the sensation already overwhelming her being. The stretch was intense, the stinging pain. As if he was taking her innocence for the first time ever. 6 years of experience, and she’d never felt anything quite like it.

“Open your eyes, baby,” Robert whispered, rubbing his thumb over her clit. She can’t have realised how much she’d tensed up, but he sure did. As her brown eyes met his, he gave her a reassuring smile, slowly pulling back, and then forward. He repeated this, inching deeper each time, until he was completely buried inside of her. “You’re so pretty,” he huffed, brows creasing as her cunt tightened around him with each thrust.

She couldn’t do anything but moan in response. Lay back and let this god of a man take her in ways she’d only dreamed about since she was old enough to understand it.

As he sped up the pace, his hands grabbed at her thighs, pushing them further towards her chest until she naturally resorted to resting her calves on his shoulders. Hitting her in all the right spots, cock nuzzling her spongy walls. Her breasts moved in tandem with the rhythm, the view otherworldly to Robert and too intoxicating not to notice.

His hands laid flat on either side of her head, his necklaces dangled in her face, and the piercing blue in his eyes drugged her as skin slapped below and bed springs croaked.

“That feel good, baby?” he gruffly asked, clenching his jaw. She nodded, lips parted as small whines fell. “Yeah?” She nodded again. “Say it—fuck, tell me, Mallory… tell me how fuckin’ good my cock feels…”

“Shit…” she hissed, flinching at one particular thrust, one that slammed against her cervix. “Yes, it feels so fucking good!” she groaned, hand shooting to his bicep, where she clawed at his skin. 

Obviously pleased with her response, Robert picked up his stabbing force. “Yeah, it feels so good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes!” Her head was thrown back, giving Robert the perfect view of where he’d marked her earlier into the evening, and the sleek sculpture of her jaw. He was almost too distracted to catch the words that followed.

Almost.

“I fucking love how your cock feels inside me, Daddy.”

His thrusts faltered, but for a mere second. Mallory immediately lifted her head, heart hammering against her ribcage—oh, God…

“What did you just call me?” he managed to utter, stilling when he settled his entire length within her.

Swallowing, her inhibitions were truly scattering, and she didn’t care how pathetic she sounded. 

Only a Daddy could fuck her like this.

“I called you… Daddy,” she said with an air of vulnerability.

“I thought that’s what you said…” he nodded slowly, seemingly thinking over a fleeting idea, before he pulled himself back up onto his knees. Before she could question him, he instructed her to turn around. All fours.

Within seconds, he was back inside her, pushing into her as harshly as she bounced back against him. He could finally take her hair into his hand, creating a makeshift ponytail as he tugged and pulled at her, building momentum as they collided in erotic eruption.

“You’re so perfect for me, baby… so tight…” he grunted, groaned and panted through each thrust. She grabbed at the headboard with one hand, the other grabbing a fistful of the pillow below her. Her moans were stabs of provoked pleasure, synchronised with each pummelling of his hips.

There was something animalistic in Robert’s response to her back arching towards the bed, taking him deeper with her stretch. He landed another smack against her backside, embracing her body’s wanton reaction. 

Thighs burning, she continued to rock backwards, meeting his hips, feeling his full balls hitting her clit each time. Her senses were at the highest point possible—or so she thought.

Robert allowed a droplet of his saliva to fall, watching as it landed on the sight below him. Cautiously, whilst steadying his thrusts, he ran his thumb experimentally over the same unknown territory he’d teased with his tongue, and gauged a shiver from Mallory earlier.

“This okay, darlin’?”

Mallory smiled to herself, chewing her lip and nodding. “Yeah…”

Still thrusting his hips, Robert proceeded to apply pressure with his thumb until the tip of it was snugly resting within the tight ring of muscle. Already, it added to the sublime level of ecstasy Mallory had found herself in, and she groaned under her breath, the triple stimulation ramping her up.

“Good girl…” Robert praised, resuming the ferocity of his movements from before. Each careen forward, meant his thumb sank deeper, and eventually she fell into a string of whimpers, moans that bordered on screams, and pleas of encouragement to keep going.

“P-please… God, please don’t stop.”

He smirked, cock twitching and throbbing inside her. Holding out. Patiently impatient for her release.

“Say it again…” he growled breathlessly.

She cried out, nails clawing into the wooden headboard. “Please, Robert, please don’t stop…”

“Who?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Daddy! Oh, fuck, please… Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum so hard, Daddy, please…” she pled vulgarly, voice worn and high, echoing and reverberating in her chest from how harshly he was slamming into her.

“Listen to you, baby… Such a dirty little girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes… Yes, yes, yes…” She nodded, biting onto her lip so hard she was sure she caught a metallic taste.

“You’re Daddy’s dirty little girl, aren’t you, hm?”

“Yes!”

“Say it.”

“Oh, fuck, right there…” she panted, head falling forward as Robert released her hair to land a hard smack against her backside again.

“Say.” Thrust. “It.” Thrust.

“I-I’m Daddy’s dirty little girl—I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” she blithered, unable to stop her body from arching back into him.

“That’s a good girl, cum for me, darlin’, let me feel it…” he grunted, moving his hand up to wrap it around her throat, pulling her back against his chest. They lowered, Mallory spread open across his lap as she continued to move her hips, grinding in pursuit of orgasm. Robert’s other hand pulled from her backside and shot between her legs, playing with her clit in his fingers. 

She was trapped. Fully encompassed in his arms as she tipped over the edge, surrendering to the magic of Robert Plant. Gripping onto his hirsute forearms, she laid her head back onto his shoulder, muscles twitching and tensing all over. Crying out, groaning; entire demeanour manipulated into nothing but a withering phenomenon.

“Christ, you’re clenching so hard around me, little girl,” he whispered hotly into her ear, hips stuttering as he found himself on the cusp of his own release. “Fuck, come here.” He pulled out of her, ushering her back up to the pillows so he could lie down on his side, bringing her back to his chest. He lifted her leg up, easily sliding back into her from behind, with his face practically hovering over hers at the same time.

He made her cum again, and again, and again, until she was shaking, flushed, completely weakened by his cock. Somehow, he’d managed to stave off his orgasm. Watching her in fits of ecstasy was just as good as experiencing his own.

But now, he knew he had to cum. There was no holding it back any longer.

Mallory found herself sitting back up, only this time, facing him. Kneeling over her like a statue honouring an icon. Only she was honouring him.

Robert’s fingers held onto her hair as she bobbed her head up and down his cock, cheeks hollowing and eyes blown with lust, staring up at him and his contorting expressions.

“Fuck, yes… Keep going, baby, I’m gunna cum down your throat,” he encouraged, suppressing the desire to start thrusting his hips against her mouth. She was doing a good enough job on her own, humming whenever his tip hit the back of her throat, circling his tip with her tongue, paying special attention to the fullness of his balls. She didn’t miss a single thing. She knew how to please a man just as much as he knew how to please a woman. And it was as clear as day why celebrity gossip practically eulogised her oral skills.

Mallory Jackson is perfect.

“Mallory… bloody hell, I’m cumming—ah, good girl, good girl…”

Her perfection was pristinely punctuated by the way she opened her mouth, giving him the full view of the thick ropes that shot from his cock, every drop coating her tongue and lips.

Her name spilled from his lips, over and over again, as he twitched and jerked against her mouth, eyes squeezed shut and jaw tightly jutted outward. She smirked as best as she could, never having witnessed such ethereal beauty in the heat of climax.

Once she was certain he was finished, she looked him in the eye as she swallowed his load, cleaning up the excess that ran down his shaft in the aftermath of convulsions. Shakily, he bent down and caught her tired and swollen lips in a heated kiss, collapsing back on top of her against the pillows.

Sheets stuck to them, heartbeats thumped a tremendous rate, whiskey on the side remained lukewarm and privy to the night’s sordid events. The two of them barely spoke as they tried to settle, holding onto each other in a haze.

“What… what time is it?” Mallory asked, chest heaving, looking over her shoulder. Robert lazily angled his head to look up at the wrist he donned a watch on.

“Half one…” He dropped his head back down, pulling Mallory further into him by her waist. “Party’s still goin’ on…” he added.

Shutting her eyes, she dragged her fingers along the damp hair on his arm to soothe them both. “Did you want to go back down?”

Robert chuckled airily, pressing his forehead into the back of her head. “Don’t really want to, but… Guess I should, really, shouldn’t I?”

Smirking, she gave him a light giggle in response. “Maybe… it is for you, after all…”

“Mhm…”

“But then again,” she turned over, laying her head close to his, “You get to choose what you want to do at your own event, no?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Very good point, luv.” He planted a sloppily aimed kiss to her lips, mostly getting just the corner of them. “You’re bloody brilliant, y’know that?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, I have my moments,” she hummed against his mouth.

“Well, how long you in New York for?”

“Couple more days… Why?”

Enveloping her in a complete embrace, Robert attached himself to her, like he had done to many in the past, but many so unlike Mallory.

“Maybe I could remind you how brilliant you are until you leave, then?” he posed, gazing down at her with hooded eyes.

“I’ve got a shoot tomorrow afternoon,” she informed him.

“I’ll come with you, then,” he shrugged.

“You’ll come with me?” she snorted. “Do you realise how massive that’d be? There’d be paps everywhere…” Despite her words connoting agitation, it was in her blood to enjoy the attention.

“Honey, you and me, we live for the spotlight, and we’ll bloody well die in it, too,” he grinned, “What’s the harm in a little provocation now and then?”

Mallory smiled, convinced this wouldn’t be the last time she’d see Robert Plant in her lifetime.

“No harm at all, Mr Plant.”

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