tearfallpixie

[tearfallpixie]

Q is for Quickie - Ryan

AN: I'm back bitches, the first thing I have written in almost a year, so its a little rough.... but I am back and ready to go! Love all of you who have shown me love and support through everything!

Everyone arrives at the festival, wandering around and enjoying the day as it won’t be until the end of the night that the boys perform, getting to be headliners this time around which is also exciting. The entire group walked around to enjoy some time together, the girls having drinks together while watching, the boys getting to enjoy the other group's shows while they waited around for their turn.  It is a wonderful summer day and everyone is enjoying spending this time together. 

Vinny had already assigned Ryan his letter, which was Quickie because he wasn’t honestly sure what else he could give them while they are away from home in a public facility place, they might find time that they could hide, hopefully they can but Vinny decided to not be a complete asshole with his next letter.  Ryan and Ariana are both grateful for this, knowing they likely will get the chance to get to it without getting caught or worse.  

That has led to where they are currently, Ariana grabbing his hand and dragging him away to the band's merch trailer now that it is empty and the table is set up at the venue.  Her lips quickly find him as she pushes him up against the wall of it, their lips clashing with each other, moving aggressively against  one anothers as they take their chance while the rest of their friends are watching the band that is currently playing.  

His fingers trail up her thighs, pulling her panties to the side as he starts to run his fingers along her folds.  Wanting to make sure that she is wet and ready for him before they start this.  He continues to tease her as they kiss before he moves, turning them around to push her back against the wall of the trailer, taking control of this.

His hand is back against her folds as he continues his previous movements, realizing rather quickly that she is turned on by this, the thought of possibly getting caught by someone on the crew or in the band, as she grows wet for him rather quickly.  Letting out soft moans as he continues, his fingers moving up towards her clit, teasing her as she gasps against his lips.  Her hips moving with his touches, seeking the sensations he is currently giving her with just his fingers, growing impatient.

“Fuck, Ry, we probably don’t have long before someone is either looking for you or they are needing something.  We’ve gotta, fuck” she groans, her mind struggling to think straight the way he is touching her.

“Shhh Ari, let me do this.  Let me enjoy this for a moment.  I doubt anyone is going to need me for  a while, we're the headliners tonight, we don’t go on for hours yet.” He murmurs softly against her neck, leaving light kisses on the skin there as he continues to focus on her at the moment.  Wanting her to get pleasure and enjoyment out of this as much as he will in a bit. “Trust me”

She whimpers, tilting her head to give him easier access as he continues the light kisses, his fingers finally where she needs them.  Feeling two of them now inside of her as he starts to work her, his thumb on her clit.  

“Come on Ari, shut your mind off…. Just feel” he whispers, trying to help her relax.  Wanting her to just let go and feel.

He can feel when she finally relaxes, letting go as she leans against the wall of the trailer with a soft moan.  Each flick of his wrist starts to feel better and better as he continues, feeling her toes curl as she starts to let go.

“That’s it, give in Ari, come for me” he murmurs against her neck, trying to coax her over the edge with a particularly rough thrust of his hand feeling her clench around his fingers as he does.  A few more like that and she does, falling over the edge with a moan, chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath for a moment.

Reaching a hand down for him, taking his length in her hand as she strokes him a few times, wanting to make sure he is hard and ready for this.  Smiling when she hears him groan as she unzips his jeans, lowering them and his boxers just enough to pull his cock out.

“Don’t need anyone seeing too much if they stop in, do we?” She says softly, giggling when he suddenly moves to lift her onto a bench that is in the trailer.  

Ryan moves to line himself up with her entrance as he leans forward to kiss her.  Their lips melding together as they take a moment to just kiss, get lost in each other before he finally enters her.  Both of them letting out a groan as he does, the sudden contact bringing both of them a spark of pleasure.  

Ryan wastes no time as he starts to thrust into her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he does, wanting to be as close to each other as they can be right now.  Both of them are secretly a little aroused at the thought that they could be caught at any moment by someone on the crew or one of the other guys back here, knowing they'll have this memory of doing this in what is technically a work space for him.

He shifts slightly, hitting a new spot that has her letting out a groan. 

“Fuck, right there Ry” she says, letting out a moan as he takes the hint and makes sure to keep hitting that spot. 

Knowing that he is close, and not wanting to finish without her he reaches down between the two of them, finding her clit with his thumb now.   Wanting to pull her over the edge with him as they both start to let go, another moan falls from her lips as she feels it building again.  She leans forward enough to pull him into another kiss as he continues, stiffening against him as she falls over the edge yet again, coming undone in his arms as he does himself, releasing inside of her with a groan.

Both of them take a moment to catch their breath before moving to try and compose themselves, running their fingers through one another's hair in an attempt to hopefully make sure it's not too obvious what they just did.

“Good thing you wore a skirt, made it easier to just take you” he teases, watching as she steps out of the trailer.  The evidence of what they have just done is still in her panties as she lets out a sigh, finding the building where their green room was so she can attempt to clean that up.

“Yeah except now I have to walk like this the rest of the night, or take my panties off and hope nobody accidentally gets a show” She grumbles, slightly annoyed at the prospect of someone figuring it out… but it only takes a few seconds before one of the merch girls walks by them to step inside that trailer to grab another bin they need for something that is selling better than they expected.

“Fuck, why does it smell like someone just had sex in here” they hear her say, making them both go wide eyed and walk a bit faster towards the green room so that they hopefully aren’t caught as the being the reason why it does. Sharing a knowing grin with one another as they do.

[tearfallpixie]

[tearfallpixie]

[tearfallpixie]

💜Links to fics💜

I'M YOURS TO KEEP, SO SINK YOUR TEETH INTO ME (Chris Motionless x Nicholas Ruffilo)

IF PAIN IS BEAUTY, I'M A PRETTY BITCH (Noah Sebastian x OC)

AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A GOOD TIME (Nicholas Ruffilo x Jolly Karlsson x OC x Noah Sebastian)

DOMINATE THE GAME (Coach Davis!Noah Sebastian x female reader)

EXHIBITION (Coach Davis!Noah Sebastian x Female Reader x Coach Cerulli!Chris Motionless)

Winter Storm (Nicholas Ruffilo x OC)

The Games We Play (Noah Sebastian x gender neutral reader)

IS THIS THE END OR IS THIS THE BEGINNING? (Stepbrother! Justin Morrow x OC (Chloe) x Brother's best friend! Vinny Mauro) In Your Eyes I See City Lights (Nicholas Ruffilo & Gender Neutral Reader)

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@itsafullmoon @philomenie @th4t-em0-k1d @baddestomens @rumoured-whispers

@blackveilomens @sorrowsofsilence @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @tearfallpixie @nerdraging4point0

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@awkwardalex @latenightmusiclover @theanarchymuse95

@ferduttini

[tearfallpixie]

I swear, the Anthony Martinez story is coming. I have been through so much SHIT over the last few weeks.

Drama ramble below the cut. Feel free to skip.

I tried giving my fiance of 7 years a second chance after a long LONG talk. Well that bit me in the ass and we decided we were better off friends.

We still have to live together and honestly being friends is a breath of fresh air. However the break up happened minutes before we went to see The Funeral Portrait three weeks ago and I have been dealing with one thing right after the other since then.

That being said stories are coming but I'm just in a rut right now. I'll be back soon. I might keep posting chapters of Soulmate Necklace but we'll see. I wanna update some chapters. 😘

[tearfallpixie]

IS THIS THE END OR IS THIS THE BEGINNING?

for @ao3userfeistycadavers MIW Friends in Sins 2024

Pairing: Stepbrother! Justin Morrow x OC (Chloe) x Brother's best friend! Vinny Mauro

Summary: Justin and Vinny make a bet with Chloe on who will get scared first- the bet requires them to lose their clothing along the way.

CW: Stepbrother trope, College AU -ish -- characters are of college age, Haunted houses, discreet disrobing in public place, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, roughing it in a corn field, swearing; If I missed anything please let me know! 💜

AN: HAPPY KINKSGIVING! @sitkowski and I are finishing up some of our kinktober fics this week! Enjoy! dividers by saradika graphics title comes from Too Close / Too Late by Spiritbox, author doesn't do spooky stuff so if it doesn't make sense I'm sorry 😅to the anon who asked about coach Justin, I hope the holds you over well until then💜

AO3 || Wattpad || Word Count: 2.5k || masterlist || Taglist sign up

It’s been two fucking days since Chloe let Justin crash at her apartment after dropping out of college. The dumbass had two semesters left to earn his degree and decided “Nah it’s not for me, I make more money doing OnlyFans.”

Groaning, she blocks out his obnoxious and off-key singing from the kitchen, hoping she can slide out the door before he notices. 

“Where you off to, sis?” Justin practically yells at her. That’s when she tracks in AirPods in his ears and shakes her head at him and the dreaded nickname. She straightens her posture, bringing her hands to her hips, and fixes Justin a glare. 

“You know, my real brother doesn’t even call me sis anymore,” she sneers sticking her tongue out. Justin scoffs, reaching high up to the top of the cabinet to put away the dish he finished drying.

“Does he clean his dishes after he eats or put away his laundry?” He doesn’t turn to see her reaction, knowing full well the truth. Despite being the favorite child, her brother has many flaws, that her parents are unfortunately blind to. Chloe’s mouth drops open ready to bite out a usual quip, but nothing comes. Deflated, she steps back and watches as her stepbrother continues to wash, dry, and put away all of her dishes, unprompted. 

“Thank you,” she says softly, her anger dissolving into appreciation. He may irritate the ever-loving shit out of her but ever since their parents got married over a decade ago, they have been thick as thieves. Justin and Chloe’s brother didn’t get along in the beginning and to this day it’s not much better. 

“Don’t be out late, your brother will be home tonight – it’s a surprise.” Chloe’s hand freezes over the doorknob. She’s about to open her mouth to explain that he isn’t coming – that his new fancy tech job called him to Germany. Fucking lucky.  Chloe would rather be anywhere but back in her small town. She missed the college town she was abruptly plucked from when Justin dropped out. Looking over her shoulder as she yanks open the door, she finds the room empty. Oh well, she thinks to herself as she pulls the door closed. 

The sun is setting by the time she returns, pulling up into the apartment complex. Chloe shuffles the paper bag of groceries in her hands as she fiddles with the key in the lock. Shoving herself through the old door she stumbles inside barely catching herself from falling as she trips over the threshold. Fuck this apartment. 

“Need help?” asks a voice Chloe hasn’t heard in years. 

“That would be great,” she sighs handing over the bags before slipping out of her

shoes and tossing her purse on the counter. “What are you doing here?” 

Her brother’s best friend just chuckles, “Well I heard that your brother might be in town and so I took the chance to stop by in hopes he’d be in the area. I should have known better that he’d flake, or something came up.” His soft brown hair waves as he shakes his head. “But I’m here and got to catch up with Justin so it’s not so bad.”

“About goddamn time you made it home,” Justin greets Chloe with narrowed eyes, but walks passed her to help put away the groceries. “What took you so long?

“I-”

“You know what never mind, don’t answer that.” Justin’s voice starts to rise. “Looks like your brother isn’t coming after all. Guess you’ll have to go in his place.”

“Go where?” Chloe glares back at Justin.

“It’s just a haunted house, Chloe. Don’t be such a girl,” Vinny sneers. 

“I am not,” Chloe crosses her arms at her chest. “To prove I’m not a girl.” Chloe mocks. “For each time you get scared you lose an article of clothes. Now don’t be crude about it we are in public.” She throws death daggers at Justin. 

“Hell yeah, I’m in!” Vinny cheers. “See I knew you could be fun sometimes, Chlo.” 

“Brrrother?” she taunts Justin, moving her hands to her hips annoyed. 

Without warning, Justin turns and crowds into Chloe’s space, forcing her to back up into the counter. Looking up at him through her lashes, he towers over her with a smug grin plastered on his face. The spice of his cologne clouds her senses as he leans down to her level. His breath is hot against the shell of her ear, the hairs on the back of her neck sticking straight up. “Game on little sis.”

Chloe added extra layers, especially on this cold October night. Her bag is clutched into her side as the group approaches the haunted house. The spiked cider is finally numbing her nerves, so she doesn’t think too much about the way Justin holds her hand leading her into the spooky house. It’s almost pitch black when they enter only tiny lights on the floor illuminate the path. Chloe inches herself closer to Justin, using his broad shoulders as a shield from their uncertain surroundings. His cologne distracts her senses enough that she barely registers Vinny’s yelp when a zombie lurks from the corner. Vinny grumbles something under his breath but doesn’t hesitate to take his rings and one of his t-shirts and slide it into the bag.  

“Vin, was that yo- oh fuck!” 

Justin stumbles back into Chloe. “Dude, get off me!” With all of her strength, she shoves him away.

“I-I don’t do clowns,” Justin stammers. 

Vinny scoffs punching Justin in the arm,” Bro, your step-sis is holding out better than we are. Step it up!” 

Justin kicks off the wall and crowds into Chloe’s space, peering down at her. “Why don’t you lead the way, hm?” he challenges. 

“Fine. I will,” she huffs and starts walking. After a few steps, she spots the exit up ahead. Relief and determination surge her onward. She feels her bag jostle, but she doesn’t stop moving, chalking it up to Justin finally surrendering another article of clothing. 

“Uh, guys? Do you hear that?” Vinny asks, his voice pitching higher.

“Hear what?”

“Dude, stop being a wimp,” Justin sneers.

“F-footsteps-” Vinny starts to shake.

“I thought it was-” 

Suddenly the sound of a chainsaw roars to life. 

“Oh fuck, I’m getting out of here!” Vinny pushes past Chloe and Justin. Justin grabs her hand and pulls her forward. “Come on!” Chloe practically jogs to keep up with Justin’s long legs. The rev of the chainsaw gets louder and louder with every step. Her heart leaps into her throat as she watches Vinny approach the door—the way to freedom. The doorknob rattles and bile churns in her stomach.

“Let us out!” Vinny yells pounding on the door. Justin joins in shoving his broad shoulder into the door. And suddenly it’s eerily silent.

“Don’t go into the field." The gang steps away from the door. 

“Don’t go into the field,” the voice repeats. 

“O-okay,” Vinny agrees, hand hovering over the doorknob.

“Yeah, whatever,” Justin says nonchalantly. 

“Of course, please just let us out!” Chloe begs, hiding behind Justin. The door clicks, Vinny yanks it open, and Justin sprints straight into the cornfield.

“What the fuck man,” Vinny yells after Justin. “Fuck me,” he whispers under his breath before reluctantly jogging after him.

Chloe follows Vinny through the maze, the full moon illuminating their path. At a crossroads, the pair freezes. 

“Rock paper scissors?” Vinny suggests with a shrug.

Chloe scoffs, “That’s stupid,” and takes the right path. She only makes a few steps before being yanked into tall corn stalks. She starts screaming at the top of her lungs until her voice cracks. In the dark, she stumbles into a clearing- a dead end. 

Chloe shivers when leaves rustling around her. She clutches the bag tighter against her body when a twig snaps. 

“Vinny?” she calls out to the silhouette that materializes before her. When the figure stalks closer she realizes it’s much taller than Vinny. 

“J-Justin?” her voice squeaks when she stumbles back into the scratchy corn stalks.

 In the distance, the chainsaw revs again. Frozen in terror, Chloe opens her mouth to scream but nothing comes out. With each step closer, adrenaline and arousal course through her veins– her heart leaps into her throat. Suddenly, a hand clamps around her mouth muffling an attempt to call for help. Her lungs are flooded with his familiar scent when he crowds into her space. 

“I bet you're soaking wet right now,” Chloe’s stepbrother whispers. A shiver spider crawls down her spine. He lowers his hand to cup her chin. “Don’t scream, it’s only me.” He nips at her earlobe and then plants a kiss on her cheek.  “Vinny is probably watching somewhere nearby I’m sure,” Justin chuckles darkly. 

“I hope so,” Chloe confesses.

She knows this is wrong, but she can’t help how she feels. Every time they were in the same room alone his gaze would shift into something darker. He would become clingier when they went out with friends, but she just brushed it off as him being a protective brother. He cared more about her than her own brother ever did. Their goodbye kisses maybe weren’t so innocent. Nathan never cared about anything she did or achieved too self-absorbed in being the favorite child even as a fucking adult. 

Chloe slides her hands under his shirt pulling him closer until their hips press together. “No one will know,” she pleads, teasing the waistband of his jeans. 

“You sure you wanna do this?” Justin sucks in a breath when Chloe palms at his erection. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” She presses a little harder against him. Justin bites down on his lip to stifle a moan. 

“Fuck, Chlo…” Justin groans. “I don’t have any protection-”

“That’s ok brother, I’ll swallow,” she smirks in the moonlight.

“Are you sure…”

“Stop. Stalling. Chloe shoves past Justin into the clearing with a huff. “Fine, I’ll fuck Vinny instead!” she hollers to no one in particular. 

Quickly Chloe sheds her outermost layer and starts placing the clothing on the ground as a makeshift blanket.

“So you wanna fuck me, hm?” 

Startled, Chloe jolts around and slams into a body, hip to hip and mouth to mouth. Her eyes widen on impact but when Vinny kisses her back, she tenses at first. This is her brother’s best friend after all. Anger simmers in her belly from the false promises Nathaniel made. 

Chloe bites at Vinny’s bottom lip. He whimpers at the loss of her lips against his, his fingernails digging into her hips in retaliation, but it only fans the flame more. Chloe licks and sucks at his neck to pull more pathetic sounds from his little mouth. 

“I want you so bad Chlo,” he moans while his hands slide into her sandy blonde hair, and he yanks hard. She scowls at him, and he narrows his eyes back. 

“What are you going to do about it?” he sticks his tongue out. 

“I-” Chloe yelps when a hand grips her throat and pushes her to the ground.

“Fuck,” she curses as sharp pain spreads through her lower back. She gasps for air, but it’s no use when a large body straddles her hips and pins her down. Lips crash onto hers and her vision blurs. 

“Breathe Chloe,” Justin mumbles. Cool air floods her lungs from her nostrils, her mouth occupied by his tongue.

“Atta girl, keep breathing.” Justin’s eyes are soft when she looks up through her lashes. Her now steady breathing hides her racing heartbeat and aching pussy. She squirms slightly under the heat of his seductive gaze. Butterflies dance in her stomach when he leans down once more, his lips hovering over hers. Dare she close the distance? 

“Did I scare ya?” he asks before standing up. 

Chloe grabs his hand, and he pulls her up. “Fuck you.” She shoves a middle finger in his face and he just grins. Suddenly, Justin unceremoniously pulls down his pants just below his hips, his erection springing freely as his boxers were discarded hours ago.

Chloe’s mouth gapes open as he settles down on the hoodie and coat strewn on the ground. “Come fuck me then.” 

“Hurry up or I’ll fuck him instead.” Vinny’s voice comes from behind her.

No one has to know right? She thinks as she bites at her lip watching Justin slowly stroking his hard cock.

“Chloe.” Her name on Justin’s lips jolts her back to reality—arousal flares in her core at the sight of Vinny touching himself too.

Desperation drives her to close the distance between the two forbidden men. She climbs out of her shoes and steps onto the nearby coat before sliding off her pants and taking her panties too. 

“I always thought you were big… but I didn’t know… this big,” she gasps as she sinks down onto his thick cock. It’s a little painful at first, the sting of the stretch until her walls adjust to his girth. Justin’s hands rest on her hips as she slowly slides up and down his length a few times. 

“Ready?” he smirks, cocking an eyebrow. 

She answers him with an open mouth kiss. She wraps her arms around his neck as he thrusts up into her tight pussy. Together they chase each other’s desire: thrusting up and slamming down. They only part when they both are gasping for air. 

“I… need… more,” Chloe begs, eyes pleading at Vinny. He’s there by her side in a flash, not even bothering with pleasantries when he shoves his dick in her face. 

She swallows him down without hesitation–giving in the pleasure as the two forbidden men use her in ways no one else could. 

“Fuck you’re so close. That’s it,” Justin groans. “Come for us,” they say in unison.

The permission is all Chloe needs to throw herself over the edge. Birds caw in the nearby from her muffled screams. She is sure as shit she heard the chainsaw again and it makes her pussy clench. She trembles and gasps as the men fuck her relentlessly through her orgasm until her body goes slack.

Justin easily pulls her off and sets her gently back on the ground. She settles down on her back as the two men hover over her face with their cocks dripping precum. 

“Open up princess.” She obeys instantly, eyes shut tight and her tongue sticking out in anticipation. Hushed curses are the only warning she gets before hot cum splashes on her face. 

“Swallow,” Justin instructs, and she happily obeys licking her lips. When she opens her eyes, she finds an outstretched hand and takes it. Justin pulls her into a tight embrace. 

“How do you feel?” he mumbles against the top of her head.

“That was fucking hot,” Chloe chuckles softly and wipes the rest of her face off on his shirt. 

“Asshole,” he grumbles.

“I love you too,” she sighs deeply closing her eyes and nuzzling closer into her stepbrother.

 Is this the end? Or is this the beginning?

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[tearfallpixie]

Soulmate Necklace - Chapter 4: Catharsis

Tags: @nerdraging4point0 @thesazzb @synthetic-wasp-570 @circle-with-me @beaker1636 @itsjustemily @witchyweeb34 @agravemisstake @cookiesupplier @cncohshit @faceless-mirror @nonamessblog @yournecessaryevil @black-damask1999

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“Baby girl, come here. I want to take a picture to post on my Instagram.” My head snapped up from my camera in shock. Ricky never called me baby girl unless there were fans or reporters present. It was also his way of warning me if we needed to pretend. My eyes flicked to where he was standing to see the blinking red light of his Sony camera. He must have been recording one of his tour updates. I moved out of the booth and went over to him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“What? Want to show me off to the world?” I murmured softly with a teasing hint in my voice.

“My fans are interested in seeing more of you. I figured it couldn’t hurt.” He shrugged. He pulled out his phone and wrapped an arm around my waist as I smiled into the camera. He pressed his forehead to my temple and took a photo of us like that. It ended up being a really cute photo.

“That is adorable.” I gasped when he showed it to me.

“We look good together.” He grinned. I knew it was for the camera but something made me want that smile to be for me. I shook my head and pulled back.

“I better get the footage from last night edited.” I whispered. I sat back down at the table and tried to focus on my work but the sound of Rick talking to the camera in the background was impossible. My phone buzzed and I glanced at it to see that Ricky had posted the picture so I clicked on it.

RickyxOlson: I’m so lucky to have this beautiful girl in my life. @Scarletdarcypics thank you for making me smile every day.

I blushed and liked the picture before screenshotting it and saving it to my phone.

Scarletdarcypics: I’m the lucky one. You have been a light in my life this last month. <3

I skimmed through my photos that I took at last nights concert and found one where Ricky was bathed in green light with his hair in his face. His left arm was hung at his side and his right was draped over his black guitar with a pic in hand. I went to my Instagram and loaded it up.

Scarletdarcypics: I am honored to be able to travel with Motionless in White on tour and be their photographer but I am even more honored to be able to call this man mine. Watching him in his element every night is amazing and it will never get old. @rickyxolson

While I was working on that photo Ricky had finished up with his camera and moved to sit across from me. He opened his phone when it buzzed and smiled at the picture.

RickyxOlson: I knew we made a good decision hiring you. Love the picture baby girl.

The photos blew up with likes and comments, the majority of them stating how cute we were. The sinking feeling returned knowing this would never be real and I was stuck with a soulmate who didn’t want me. I sent the finished photos off to the group so they could decide what they wanted to post and closed my laptop. The rest of the band had been out at a movie but neither Ricky nor I felt like going so we had been alone for the better part of three hours, most of it spent ignoring each other. Vinny and Elara came stumbling through the door with big grins on their faces and I instantly knew what had happened. Vin came over to where Rick was and Elara drug me back to the back of the bus.

“He kissed me.” She squealed. “God Scar, it was so perfect. Why didn’t you tell me kissing your soulmate was so magical?” She asked.

“I wouldn’t know. None of mine have been real.” I mumbled. She immediately straightened up.

“Right, I am so sorry.” She whispered.

“Its whatever. I’m happy for you. Really.” I started digging through my bag for something when a book fell out. It was called Gloom by Ricky Olson and I had definitely not put it in there. I picked it up and turned to Elara. “Hey, I think am just going to turn in for the night. Ok? I’m pretty exhausted.” I lied. It felt like every turn I was having our fake relationship shoved in my face and it was taking a toll on my mood.

“Ok.” She murmured softly. “I’ll be up front if you need me.”

~~

“Lets go out and celebrate! We haven’t been to a club in ages.” Justin begged. Another concert over and we were about 2 months into touring with the band. The rest of the band readily agreed but I was about to decline when Elara gave me her best puppy dog eyes. It had been a week since her and Vinny had gotten together and they were riding the high. I nodded sullenly and allowed her to doll me up to go to a bar near our hotel. The boys had gone ahead of us so we were just going to meet them there.

The moment we got there Elara drug me over to the bar to get us drinks. Once we had ordered we turned to find the crew to see them over in the corner at a booth. We thanked the bartender and took our bottles over to them. I sat next to Ricky and Vin immediately pulled El into his lap.

“You ladies look beautiful tonight.” The drummer told us. Ricky leaned over to kiss my cheek softly and wrapped an arm around my waist.

“We had to dress up for our boys.” Elara said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. We sat there chatting and drinking for a while until a few of them decided to run off to dance with their partners. It left Chris, Ricky and me alone at the table. I was leaning into Rickys chest as his hand played with the strands of my hair mindlessly.

“You two have really gotten comfortable with each other.” The singer noticed, taking a sip of his beer.

“Didn’t really have a choice did we?” Ricky muttered. “We got together and not even weeks later that chick from Loudwire was harassing us about our relationship.”

��So you two still hate each other?” He asked with exasperation.

“We tolerate each other is a better way to put it.” I mumbled. I downed the rest of my drink and pulled out of the guitarists arms. “I’m going to get another drink.” I made my way to the bar and raised my hand to the bartender. He nodded and went back to what he was doing.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” I turned to see this frat boy looking idiot standing next to me.

“Here with some friends.” I shrugged.

“I don’t see them. Let me take you out back and show you a good time.” He purred. The bartender came over and handed me another drink and in that time Ricky had already noticed the guy.

“I’m not interested in getting an std. Thanks though.” I smirked. He grabbed my arm and held it tightly.

“I don’t suggest you talk to me like that again bitch. A woman is never to disrespect her man.” He snarled.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? I don’t know you so fuck off! Let me go!” I spat. I tried ripping my arm away but when I was unsuccessful, I started panicking. I looked to see that Ricky nor Chris were at the table anymore which made it worse.

“I think the lady said let her go.” Ricky growled. He had showed up behind me with Chris on his flank.

“Who the fuck are you? You two look like fucking fags.” Frat boy laughed.

“I’m her fucking boyfriend. Now I suggest you let go before I do something I regret.” The rest of the band had noticed from their places around the room and started moving towards us. Luckily security had seen the altercation and had come over.

“Let the lady go.” The security guard said, grabbing frat boys other arm. He instantly let go of me and I spun and threw myself into Rickys arms sobbing. He wrapped a protective arm around my waist and glared as the guy was escorted out of the bar.

“Are you ok?” Elara asked. I nodded into Rickys shoulder, not wanting to let him go just yet. He grabbed my drink and guided me back over to the table. Chris, Vinny and Elara followed us and we all sat down.

“Baby girl, say something.” Ricky murmured, brushing a piece of hair out of my face.

“I’m fine. I just want to get drunk and forget about it.” I begged in a quiet voice. I took a long swig of my drink before dragging Ricky with me to the dance floor. He looked worried but danced and drank the night away with me. As it went on the asshole faded from memory and the music blurred together. I could tell both Ricky and I were wasted but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

[tearfallpixie]

[tearfallpixie]

[tearfallpixie]

There is a reason I say them and us are one in the same

I love when boys are girl best friends

[tearfallpixie]

Y’all… my fellow Reapers…… idk I literally went for BVB but I’m missing Anthony sm I gotta see DD again, I wanna go to the Bleeders tour so bad but can’t!!! 😭💔

What a hell of a night this was. I had BVB VIP too 🖤

[tearfallpixie]

Power Play // Chapter 11 // Hockeyplayer!Noah AU

Tropes and tags: hockey player romance, angsty romance, hidden relationship, forbidden relationship, smutty, MF, PinV, public adjacent sex, rough sex, minor cnc dynamics, multiple POV, hockey player shenanigans, locker room talk, aggressive hockey players, possessive male, protective male.

Fanclub: @tearfallpixie @ladyveronikawrites @beaker1636 @missduffsblog @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @rumoured-whispers @sorrowsofsilence @sundamariis @letmeadoreyoux @lilrubles @shilohrosechicken @mysticdoodlez @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @deathblacksmoke @somebodyels3

Shout out to @flowery-mess who has been loving this series at every turn! Thank you 🙏

Sarah's POV

We stepped off the bus in Orlando, just outside the towering ice rink, I could smell the muggy salt of the air and the humidity hit me like a truck. The game wasn't for several more hours, but our team's media and PR representatives were already in full swing, eager to capture crucial pre-game moments of the players entering their new territory before they hit the ice.

I hadn't traveled with the team all that often, opting to stay home for most games. But this time, things were changing. The Otters, a newly formed team in the Orlando area, were in need of more players to help build up their roster, and a new nurse position had opened up. It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up, even though I hadn't really told anyone about it, except for Jack. I knew my father would likely try to persuade me to stay by his side, which, if I'm being honest, hadn't been so bad lately. But then there was Noah - the complicated, brooding asshole who had been the source of so much tension and unspoken feelings since the season started. Ever since our stolen moment in the supply room, he had become distant, barely looking at me or speaking to me, and his aggression on the ice at the last game had been more intense than I'd seen in a while. Maybe, I thought, this move to a new team, far away from the drama and the complicated situationship, could be the fresh start I needed, the chance to finally find some clarity and peace, away from the emotional turmoil that had been weighing me down.

As I stepped into the bustling entry dock, I took my spot next to Veronica and Ashley, the public relations manager and our social media extraordinaire. The air was electric with anticipation as the players began to file in, each one acutely aware of the watchful eyes and cameras trained upon them. Ashley was animatedly pointing and leaning in close to her assistant, instructing her on the ideal angles and lighting needed for the best social media shots. From what I could overhear, her assistant would be responsible for capturing the still images while Ashley herself moved in to secure high-quality video footage.

The players, who had endured this routine countless times before, entered the dock with a practiced nonchalance. They moved with an effortless grace, spacing themselves evenly and resisting the urge to hurry through the gauntlet of media attention. It was almost comical to watch these towering, broad-shouldered athletes attempt to affect an air of casual indifference, as if tall, handsome men in tailored three-piece suits strolling through a throng of cameras was an everyday occurrence.

Sanchez was the first to catch my eye as he strode in alone, his left hand casually tucked into the pocket of his sleek gray suit. His dark hair was styled back with a liberal application of gel, giving him a polished, sophisticated look, and his face was clean-shaven, allowing his Rolex to take center stage on his wrist. As he passed our little trio, he turned his head slightly, lowering his sunglasses just enough to lock eyes with me before giving a subtle wink and pushing the frames back up his nose. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his blatant display of cockiness - he was the epitome of an athlete who truly believed he owned the team.

Veronica leaned in close, whispering in my ear with the same tone of disgust that I felt, "He thinks he runs the show, doesn't he?" We watched as the rest of the team filed through, each one distinct in their own way. Ruffilo and Pierce walked side-by-side, engrossed in a deep conversation, while Nick's dark hair was neatly tied back in a clean bun, his charcoal suit devoid of a tie. In contrast, Pierce had opted for a periwinkle suit that perfectly complemented his sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

As McClain and Sanders glided past, their shoulders brushing together in perfect sync, I could barely tear my eyes away from the captivating scene unfolding before me. Noah and Karlsson, the dynamic duo, strolled by playfully shoving one another, their pearly white smiles lighting up the room. I had expected Noah to don a classic black suit, perhaps even mirroring Karlsson's ensemble, but the two had decidedly gone above and beyond for their grand entrance. Noah's lithe frame was impeccably fitted in a rich, wine-colored suit, the three buttons fastened neatly as his black shirt peeked out ever-so-slightly at the collar. In contrast, Jolly's dark navy ensemble was left intentionally unbuttoned, the tails of his jacket open as he casually slid his hands into his pockets, forgoing a tie and leaving the top buttons of his shirt undone for a relaxed, effortless look.

Veronica's sultry voice suddenly broke my train of thought, her bottom lip slipping between her perfectly veneered teeth as a cherry red gloss glistened on her lips. "Now that's a media shot," she purred, her gaze fixed intently on the stylishly dressed players. Grateful for the distraction, I quickly reached for my buzzing phone, relieved to see the number for the Otters medical director displayed on the screen.

The sudden interruption provided the perfect excuse to extricate myself from the uncomfortable situation I had found myself in. Hastily excusing myself, I hurried to answer the call, eager to shift my attention elsewhere. To my pleasant surprise, the caller was none other than the medical director for the Otters, the opposing team we were playing against. "Good afternoon, Ms. Brody," the director greeted me warmly. "We noticed the team arrived safe and well, and I was wondering if you might have time to meet with us now, rather than waiting until our originally scheduled 4 o'clock meeting?"

Without hesitation, I eagerly accepted the invitation, practically sprinting towards the locker rooms as I hung up the phone. Weaving my way through the throngs of players, I made my way down the hallway, following the director's detailed instructions to locate the home team's lounge and the conference room where they awaited me.

Just as I was about to reach my destination, I was stopped in my tracks by the familiar voice of Pierce. "Hey, where are you headed in such a hurry?" he inquired, his brow furrowing with curiosity. Caught off guard, I hastily concocted a flimsy excuse about needing to meet with the medical staff to stay up-to-date on the latest care and treatment protocols. The words felt clumsy and unconvincing as they left my lips, and I could see the skepticism etched across Pierce's face. "Okay, well, make sure you take notes," he replied, a hint of teasing in his tone. "We like having you around, wouldn't want to lose you 'cause of an error or anything."

As I watched him rejoin his teammates, a curious mix of emotions washed over me. Pierce's parting words had struck a chord, leaving me feeling unexpectedly touched. It was the first time I had heard any of the players express that they genuinely enjoyed my presence and valued the work I did. In that moment, I found myself reluctant to continue on to the meeting, my previous eagerness replaced by a newfound hesitation and a desire to linger in the warmth of Pierce's unexpected acknowledgment.

I made my way into the conference room, my palms sweating and heart pounding, I couldn't help but feel completely out of my element. I shook hands with each member present, gave my best smile taking a seat across the table from them. Here I was, a highly qualified and experienced nurse, the panel before me was an intimidating one - a group of stern-faced doctors and athletic trainers, all of them seasoned veterans in their fields. I tried to sit up straight and appear confident, but inside I was a bundle of nerves. What did I have to offer? Sure my academic and rotation skills were some of the best in my class, and I recently had some hockey experience. I had spent years honing my skills, earning certifications and accolades, but now all of that felt inadequate as I faced this daunting interview. The head doctor, a broad-shouldered man with a graying beard, began firing questions at me rapid-fire, grilling me on my experience with athletic injuries, my familiarity with the unique demands placed on professional athletes' bodies, and my ability to think quickly and adapt in high-pressure situations. I did my best to respond articulately, highlighting my extensive trauma training and my calm, level-headed approach even in the most chaotic circumstances. But I could see the skepticism in their eyes - these were people who pushed their bodies to the absolute limit every day, and they needed someone who could keep up.

As the interview progressed, I found myself increasingly unsure of my chances. The team trainer, a stern-faced woman with piercing eyes, seemed particularly unimpressed by my answers. I worried that my personal background with the current team's coach would be seen as a weakness, that they would view me as someone who wouldn’t have gotten the job without her father.

As the interview finally concluded, a sense of dread and self-doubt began to creep over me. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had utterly botched the entire process, completely failing to showcase my true skills and capabilities. All the confidence I had mustered up beforehand had evaporated, replaced by a crippling insecurity that left me longing to retreat back to the familiar comforts of my team. With heavy steps, I made my way through the bustling locker room, bypassing the lively camaraderie and boisterous music that normally would have lifted my spirits. Instead, I felt isolated and out of place, my sole focus being to reach the small, tucked-away office where my dad and Jack were waiting.

The moment I stepped inside, their eyes immediately locked onto me, and I could feel the flush of embarrassment creeping across my cheeks as my glassy eyes betrayed the inner turmoil I was experiencing. My dad, sensing my distress, reached out with a gentle concern, using the childhood nickname he hadn't uttered in years - "Firefly, what's wrong?" I took a deep, steadying breath, struggling to hold back the sniffles that threatened to escape as I recounted the disastrous interview.

"Daddy, don't get mad, but I thought I would be a good fit for the Otters as their head nurse. I had an interview scheduled for four o'clock, but they moved it up to just forty minutes ago. Daddy, it was brutal - I felt so out of my league, and I'm convinced I didn't answer any of the questions right. I feel like I absolutely fucked it up." The words tumbled out, laced with disappointment and self-doubt that I couldn't quite shake.

As Jack quietly excused himself and retreated from the office, shutting the door behind him, I felt tension settling in the air. My father, his brow furrowed in deep contemplation, gently placed the stack of papers he had been reviewing down on the desk before him. Taking a long, steadying breath, he turned to face me, his gaze conveying a mixture of concern and affection. "Is being here so bad?" he asked, the weight of his words hanging heavily between us.

I swallowed hard, my heart racing as I struggled to find the right words. "No, daddy, that's not it," I replied, my voice trembling slightly. "It's just...I'm an adult now, and I don't want people to think that I only got this job because you're my dad. I don't want them to think that, because you're my father, I can get away with whatever I want." The admission spilled forth, my fears and insecurities laid bare before him.

My father's expression softened, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Sweetie, I didn't pick you because you were my daughter, although that would be reason enough," he said, as I wiped the tears from my cheek. "I picked you because your skills were exceptional. I've seen your grades, your clinical evaluations, and I've heard nothing but great things from your professors." He held up a hand, silencing my attempt to argue. "And don't even try to tell me they said those things because I'm your father. I had Jack call, and no one knew you were my daughter when we spoke to them."

Stepping around the desk, my father enveloped me in a warm, comforting embrace, his strong arms offering a sense of security and reassurance. "Sweetie, I'm sure you nailed it. If they extend the offer, I advise you to do what you think is best - stay or go. Either way, your daddy is proud of you." His words, spoken with unwavering conviction, soothed the anxieties that had been weighing so heavily on my mind, and I found myself melting into his embrace, my fears slowly dissipating as I basked in the unconditional love and support of my father.

Noah’s POV

The sweat chills my forehead as we battle in the heat of the game, muscles burning with the exertion. My left calf throbs with a sharp ache - sometime in the first half, my leg had stretched out too far as I dove for the puck, the sudden overextension pulling at the tender muscle. But there's no time to nurse the injury, not when the Otters are pressing us so relentlessly. They may be leading us by a mere two points, but their seamless teamwork and razor-sharp communication puts our own disjointed efforts to shame. Our captain seems disinterested in coordinating the team, preferring to simply bark orders and expect us to fall in line without any real guidance. One small fuck up and he's quick to berate us, his face twisted into a snarl behind the bite guard clenched between his teeth. I can see the tension in every line of his body as he carves furious paths across the ice, desperately trying to regain control of the game - a game that seems to be slipping through his fingers despite his best efforts. The Otters may have the advantage in skill and strategy, but our own internal discord could very well be our downfall if we don't find a way to come together as a cohesive unit, and soon.

Players from both teams converge in a frenzied scrum at the end of the ice, their skates carving up the frozen surface as they jostle and shove for position. The Otters' center and his flanking teammates are locked in a desperate search, their eyes scanning the chaos for any opening, any sliver of space they can exploit to get a shot on goal. In the midst of the melee, McClain is zeroed in, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on the puck as if it were a venomous rattlesnake coiled at his feet, ready to strike. I try to keep track of the elusive rubber disc, but in the heat of the moment, Sanchez comes barreling through, shoving past me and nearly knocking me off balance and onto the ice. Just as I regain my footing, Jolly glides up behind me, lending a steadying hand and helping me find my edges again as the players crash violently into the boards, all of them clawing and scraping in a fierce battle for possession of the puck.

The deafening roar of the crowd quickly gives way to a stunned, eerie silence as the sickening sound of the violent collision echoes through the packed arena. It's a chaotic blur of bodies and jerseys as the players collide, limbs tangling together in a violent frenzy. Suddenly, fists are flying and a wooden stick is snapped in half, the pieces clattering to the ice as the referees rush in to try to separate the brawling athletes. Teammates frantically scramble to pull their players back, desperate to deescalate the ugly situation.

"Charlie!" one of the Otters players shouts out in anguish over the panicked screams of the crowd, and as the bodies clear, my eyes catch the horrific sight. The fallen center lies motionless on the ice, his limbs twisted at unnatural, sickening angles. A dark, ominous pool of red is spreading beneath his left arm, the crimson liquid contrasting against the white ice. The crowd watches in a stunned, horrified trance, the only sound a hushed, disbelieving whisper escaping my lips: "Fuck."

The scene was nothing short of harrowing, as all eyes remained fixated on the crumpled, motionless figure lying on the frozen surface. In a frantic blur of movement, the medics rushed to him, their swift actions cutting through the eerie stillness that had descended upon the arena. The spectators, gripped by dread, waited with bated breath.

As the officials carefully surveyed the ice, assessing the aftermath of the recent scuffle, one of the referees suddenly caught sight of something that immediately piqued his interest. Peering down, I noticed a faint trail of red leading away from the Otter's center, the faded lines disappearing beneath the skates of my own teammate. Sanchez, unbothered, stood calmly with his stick resting casually on the frozen surface, his eyes locking momentarily with those of the officiating crew. And with a sickening, almost taunting sneer, he turned and began making a beeline straight for the penalty box.

***

"What the fuck was that, Sanchez?" my accusatory question hung in the air, laced with the bitterness of a game that had slipped through our fingers. The injury earlier had been the turning point, the moment where everything unraveled and our hard-fought efforts came crashing down. With their center replaced, the Otters had seized the momentum, and try as we might, we just couldn't regain footing, sinking deeper into the agony of defeat.

“What the fuck was what, Sebastian?” he growled at me.

Following the end of the game the rest of the team, still clad in their sweat-soaked uniforms, confronted him relentlessly, voices raised in a cacophony of outrage.

"You fucking brutalized him!" one teammate shouted, the accusation hanging heavy in the air as Sanchez, freshly showered and changed, met their gaze with a defiant shrug.

"Did you see me brutalize him?" he sneered, shrugging his shoulders as he drawled, “It was an accident.”

"Bullshit!" Pierce screamed from across the locker room unwilling to accept Sanchez's nonchalant dismissal of the incident that had cost them the game. Faces were ready and adrenaline was high, I was about to pull back and sock my fist into his smug face when coach barreled into the room.

"Sit the fuck down, all of you!" he bellowed, his voice booming through the tense silence. Collectively, we scrambled to obey, eyes locked on the coach as we settled onto the bench. Coach's hands twisted and clenched, his eyes bulging with barely-contained fury. "That was some bullshit out there," he spat, his words laced with venom. "You played like thieves, not like a team at all. This is NOT how I trained you."

Nick, unable to hold his tongue, suddenly blurted out, "It's all Sanchez's fault!" The accusation hung in the air, drawing a swift retort from Sanders. "Coach, I think Sanchez should be in trouble for this, not us!" he countered.

But coach would have none of it, his booming voice silencing the bickering. "I don't want to hear the blame game!" he bellowed, his face flushed a deep crimson. Turning his gaze to Sanchez, his expression hardened. "Sanchez, your playing for this season is under review. Pending Owens' injury assessment."

At the mention of Owens, a hush fell over the team, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily. I could barely choke out the words past the rage in my throat. "How is he?" I asked, my voice trembling. Coach’s expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his features.

“At the moment, can't feel his fingers. Sarah and Leo are helping the nursing team with him before sending him to the hospital.” Coach took a deep shaky breath, “I want everyone to shower, pack up and be ready to go. No talking, I want silence. You are all punished, as of this moment you are no longer an NHL team on the way to winning the cup, you are now a rookie team who could learn some manners through discipline.” he stormed away leaving the rest of us sitting in guilt ridden silence. The air in the locker room was thick with tension and unease as we sat in stunned silence, the weight of Coach's words hanging heavily over us.

My heart raced, adrenaline coursing through my veins, as I stared at the spot where he had stormed out, his booming voice still echoing in my ears. I couldn't believe it - one moment we had been riding high, on the cusp of victory, and the next everything had come crashing down around us. Sanchez gripped his gear bag, tossing it over his shoulder as he left the locker room.

“I hope Sarah and Leo can help him.” Jolly's low, hushed voice carried through the silence.

“She’s good, she’ll figure it out.” My little fox knows her stuff. I had full confidence that she was the one who could uncover the truth. She was sharp, determined, and wouldn't rest until she got to the bottom of this. I knew she had the skills and the drive to dig into Owen's medical report and find the evidence we needed to take down Sanchez.

“We need a new captain.” Nick declared, the team collectively nodding their heads.

“We should take a vote,” Pierce offered “Give it to Coach when we get back to Santa Monica.”

“Sanchez won’t go quietly,” McClain warned.

“We need a solid replacement if we are going to go for that target.”

The debate soured and I drowned out the voices, ignoring it all as we each took our showers. The walk back to the bus, and arriving at the hotel was coated in deadly silence. Jolly and I made it to our room and I tossed my gear off in the corner, Jolly flopped on the bed kicking his shoes off letting them fly across the room. I stared at my bed, hands in my pockets deep in thought. My little fox. I hadn’t seen her, felt her, talked to her in weeks-had I fucked it up? My eyes glanced over at the NDA agreement hidden secretly in my backpack. I didn’t need to read it.

The journey back to the hotel had been cloaked in a stifling silence, the weight of unspoken thoughts and unanswered questions hanging heavy in the air. Reaching the hotel, I tossed my gear aside carelessly, the thud as it hit the floor barely registering. Jolly flung himself onto the bed, kicking off his shoes with a frustrated huff, sending them flying across the room. I stood there, hands jammed deep into my pockets, my gaze fixed on the empty mattress before me. The memory of her - my little fox-lingered, a phantom presence that I hadn't been able to reach in weeks.

Had I truly messed things up this time?

My eyes darted to the backpack where the NDA agreement lay hidden. I had signed it the night I got it. I didn't need to re-read the terms; they were seared into my mind. Now, with Sanchez's unsportsmanlike outburst threatening to bring the relentless media vultures circling our team once more, I knew I would need to rely on that NDA to cover my tracks - and hers. Any hint of scandal, any whisper of impropriety, would no doubt be dredged up and paraded before the world as if our team were some twisted reality TV spectacle. I had to protect myself, had to shield us both from the consequences should our clandestine relationship ever be exposed. That NDA would save me from being fired by the coach, certainly, but it would do nothing to stop him from hating me as her father.

But you know what, I didn’t care anymore.

[tearfallpixie]

Will of Fire Will Burn // Part two // EroticRomance (N.Sebaatian)

Tropes, Tags and Trigger Warning: 18+ content, erotica, dark romance, sexworkerxclient relationship, slow burn, disturbing themes and topics hinted at or mentioned are as follows: rape, abuse, sexual trafficking, trafficking of minors. Read at your own consumption.

Fanclub: @ladyveronikawrites @mysticdoodlez @deathblacksmoke @tearfallpixie @somebodyels3 @beaker1636 @rumoured-whispers @somewhere-diamond

As he slowly lifted his gaze, Karah couldn't help but notice her own reflection staring back at her from the dark lenses of his sunglasses. The tattoo on his throat, an intricate design that wrapped around his neck, seemed to move with each labored swallow, as if the ink itself was struggling to stay in place. Sensing his discomfort, her voice took on a sultry, low tone as she offered her assistance. "Need some help?" she purred, her eyes sparkling with a hint of playfulness.

But the man remained silent, his expression unreadable behind those tinted shades. Undeterred, Karah rolled her eyes in a playful gesture and took a seat beside him, her movements fluid and graceful. Glancing down at the phone in his hand, she began scrolling through the various apps, her head strategically placed on his shoulder as she leaned in closer.

Gazing at her profile, the digital portrait she had taken just weeks after arriving stared back at her, a vivid and sensual representation of her online persona. She stared at it for a minute, reminiscing about the girl she’d been, nearly two years younger and platinum blonde with no piercings and barely any visible tattoos. With a quick double tap, the screen opened to reveal the full details of her profile - her stage name, gender, sexual orientation, and a schedule of her upcoming performances. She scrolled down to the large blue box labeled, "book now", clicking the tab with one tap of her acrylic nail.

"Everything is in here," she mused, scanning the options - private dances, personal services, and even the ability to submit outside requests. Pushing further into the "personal services" dropdown, she scrolled through a comprehensive list of add-ons her clients could select, each one tailored to cater to their deepest desires. "You can check off as much or as little as you want," she explained, her tone coy yet matter-of-fact, "and the total for all the services you've selected will be automatically pulled from your account." Standing up from the couch, she purposefully bent at the waist, smoothing her stockings as she continued, "Once a booking is made, I get a notification, and if I agree, you'll be texted a room number. But if I deny the request, your money is refunded, and you can try again." She paused, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Three denials, though, and you're locked out of my profile entirely, and Madam has to approve your renewal." Her silent companion continued to watch her, his gaze unflinching as she spoke.

Tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, she took a deep, steadying breath and headed for the stairs, her steps slow and measured, fighting the urge to rush. No need to seem overeager, she reminded herself. Let him come to her. Young clients were a rarity in her line of work, at least those who weren't the typical blonde trust fund babies in suits and ties, wasting their family's inheritance on cocaine and women because their pitiful personalities alone weren't enough to convince anyone to willingly share their bed. As she stepped back into the private confines of her domain, she furiously checked the drawers, ensuring she was fully stocked on all the necessities - condoms in a variety of sizes, flavored lubricants, and an assortment of toys to cater to any proclivity her clients may have. She wasn't quite sure what this new patron might be into, but she intended to be thoroughly prepared.

Feeling a sudden rush of confidence, she swiftly removed the delicate lingerie she had carefully selected and donned just moments before. The intricate lace and ribbons had seemed to overwhelm him, even behind those dark sunglasses she could see his eyebrows scrunch as he struggled to take in the complexity of the ensemble. Deciding to simplify her look, she opted instead to keep the sheer, seductive stockings in place, their deep crimson hue accentuating the pale, smooth skin of her legs. Pulling a flowing, blood-red dress over her head, she reveled in the way the fabric caressed her body, the hem grazing temptingly at the middle of her thighs while the neckline dipped low, revealing the gentle swell of her ample bosom. The dress seemed to move with a life of its own, the supple material skimming effortlessly over her plump, free breasts in a way that was both alluring and sophisticated.

Her mobile suddenly chirped to life, the sharp sound startling her for a moment before she snatched it up, heart pounding. For a moment, her breath caught in her throat as she snatched up the phone, tapping open the notification - "New client request: Sebastian. Services requested - vaginal intercourse, rough, dirty talk, fellatio, cunnilingus. Services accepted?" Her body immediately ran hot with a familiar anticipation, and she toyed absentmindedly with the delicate gold chain around her neck. Biting her lip, she pressed her thumb to the screen, sealing the deal, her pussy clenching around nothing in eager anticipation.

She paced her room slowly, waiting until the soft turn of the knob stopped her in her tracks. As she watched the doorknob slowly turn, her heart raced with nervous excitement. The tall, imposing figure of the man from downstairs came into view, his head nearly brushing the top of the door frame as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. His sunglasses were tucked into the collar of his crisp shirt, and as he moved closer, she could hear the soft, vibrating sound of his calloused hands rubbing together - a sound that sent a shiver of electricity down her spine and a warm tingling sensation between her thighs.

When his gaze finally met hers, she was captivated by the striking contrast of his features - the sharp, high cheekbones, the plump, alluring lips, and the hint of rugged facial hair lining his upper lip and chin. His eyes deep and dark like endless pools that seemed to bore right into her soul, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. The intensity of his stare had her unable to look away, her body already responding to his mere presence with a growing sense of anticipation and desire.

Her wide, captivated eyes were locked onto his, unable to look away from the sheer magnetism of his deep, soulful brown gaze. “On the bed.” His voice was like velvet, a mesmerizing melody that seemed to wrap around her, drawing her in deeper. She had never encountered a client so breathtakingly beautiful before - there simply weren't words adequate enough to describe his flawless features. Unable to contain her awe, her mouth fell open as she openly gawked at him, drinking in every detail.

With a slow, deliberate step forward, he closed the distance between them, her ample breasts pressing against the firm planes of his chest as she teetered on the heels of her foot. Reaching out, he grasped her face between his thumb and forefinger, gently squishing her cheeks until her lips puckered outwards. "I said, on the bed," he commanded in that same rich, velvety tone. Clumsily, she pushed herself back onto the mattress, resting on her elbows with her legs dangling off the edge.

Transfixed, she watched as he peeled off his t-shirt, revealing the intricate tapestry of tattoos that covered his muscular torso. An audible gasp escaped her lips at the sight, earning a self-satisfied smile from him. Slowly, he sank down to his knees, taking one of her legs in his large, calloused hands. Lifting her foot to his shoulder, he pressed a series of delicate kisses along the sensitive skin of her inner ankle, his touch igniting sparks of electricity that shot through her. Torturously slow, his hands slid up the length of her stocking-clad leg until he reached the top, peeling the sheer fabric down to her toes. "You won't be needing those," he purred, tossing the stockings aside.

Repeating the process with her other leg, he peppered tender kisses along the delicate flesh of her ankle and knee before carelessly dropping the limb. Then, with feline grace, he crawled his way up her body until his face was mere inches from hers, their noses almost touching. "Take off the dress," he commanded in a voice rough with barely-contained desire. Sitting up straight, she reached for the hem of her dress, shimmying it up over her hips and finally up and over her head, leaving her exposed before his hungry gaze.

He leaned in to kiss her, turning her face his lips caught the corner of her mouth lips trailing a tantalizing path across the delicate skin of her cheek and down the graceful column of her neck. She shuddered at the sensation, pulse quickening as he nipped and suckled at the sensitive flesh, intent on leaving his mark.

Driven by an insatiable craving, he continued his sensual descent, mouth fastening around the hardened peak of her nipple. The suction was deliciously firm, drawing a needy whimper from her parted lips as sparks of pleasure radiated outward, setting her nerve endings ablaze. His tongue flicked and teased, caressing the sensitive bud in a rhythm as old as time itself. She was quickly becoming lost in the haze of desire, rational thought slipping away as the building pressure within threatened to consume her. Every touch, every caress, stoked the flames of her arousal higher, until she was teetering on the edge of ecstasy, mind hazy and unfocused, reality blurring at the edges.

He released her delicate breast from his mouth, the soft flesh making a faint popping sound as it left his lips. Trailing his tongue in a sensual path across her sternum, he moved to the other breast, taking the hardened nipple between his teeth and repeating the delicate ministrations. Her breath grew ragged, chest rising and falling rapidly as she gripped the sheets with white-knuckled intensity, overwhelmed by the sensations he was eliciting. Slowly he kissed a meandering path down the smooth plane of her belly, gracefully sinking to his knees as he positioned himself between her trembling thighs. Locking eyes with her, he drank in the sight of her flushed, needy form, breasts heaving with each rapid breath.

"Can I taste you?" he murmured, voice thick with desire. Her breathless nod of approval was all the permission he needed. He buried his face between her thighs, using his strong hands to spread her open and grant him unfettered access. He flicked his tongue over her swollen clit in a steady, maddening rhythm, reveling in the whimpers and moans that spilled from her lips. Pulling her tender nub between his lips, he suckled it firmly, pulling a desperate whine from deep in her throat. Slipping his tongue into her slick heat, he lapped at her with single-minded focus, determined to commit every inch of her to memory. Her entire body quivered and writhed as he devoured her, lost in the feral ecstasy.

The intense, overwhelming sensations flooded her body as her thighs clamped down around his head, her orgasm pulsing through her with a primal, desperate force. Her fingers frantically tangled in his soft, brown hair, clawing at him as she tried in vain to pull him away from the overpowering stimulation that made her scream out in a mix of pleasure and discomfort. With a firm, unyielding grip, his hands pushed her trembling thighs open, allowing him to take one last, indulgent pull of her swollen, sensitive clit between his lips before she could no longer bear it.

Panting heavily, he commanded her to her knees, hastily kicking off his shoes and discarding the rest of his clothing as she settled her quivering legs on the bed. Wrapping his fingers around his throbbing cock, he pumped a few times, closing the distance between them as her mouth dropped open, her tongue sliding out in eager anticipation. With a deep, guttural groan, he dropped the weight of himself onto her waiting tongue, feeling the delicious, wet heat as she closed her mouth around him. Gathering her hair in both hands, he moaned as she slid her mouth up and down his shaft, her tongue circling the sensitive head as she withdrew before sinking back down. Her hands gripped his thighs for traction, and he threw his head back, consumed by the incredible sensations. Hollowing out her cheeks, she worked him relentlessly, until he had to summon all his willpower to pull her away.

With a gentle, caressing motion, he cupped her soft cheek in his hand, his thumb tenderly stroking the delicate bone underneath her skin. "Lay back down," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. Effortlessly, she complied, sinking back onto the bed until she was lying on her back. He positioned himself above her, sliding between her thighs like it was where he belonged. "Condoms are in...in the...drawer." she managed to push out the words between ragged breaths. He sat up straight, leaning back on his heels watching her chest rising and falling as she tried to steady her heavy, labored breathing. Gazing up at his muscular, tattooed body, she couldn't help but feel surprised that someone with his rugged good looks and undeniable charm would ever need to visit a place like this. Surely a man of his caliber could have his pick of any woman he desired, without having to arrange such clandestine trysts. But there was an intensity, a primal hunger in his eyes as he looked down at her that suggested this was about more than just physical gratification. There was a deep, unspoken need that drove him here, to this shadowy realm where the usual rules of courtship and propriety did not apply. Whatever demons lurked within him, whatever void he was trying to fill, she sensed he would not be leaving until he was thoroughly, thoroughly satisfied.

Glancing over at the closed drawer by the bed, his dark, smoldering eyes slid back to meet her gaze as he posed the question, "Are they required?" She could only nod her head slowly. Strict laws in the state of Nevada required all registered brothels to mandate the use of condoms regardless of the contraceptives already in use by the employees. He leaned over, the springs of the mattress creaking beneath his weight, and opened the drawer, carefully selecting the item he needed from within.

She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, never before having felt this way with a client. His touch was gentle yet firm as his large hands pet her soft hair, running his long fingers through the silky strands. Slowly, his hand drifted down, calloused fingertips grazing the delicate skin of her neck before he firmly gripped her, pushing her back into the plush mattress. Pinned beneath him, his grip tightening ever so slightly, he ripped open the foil packet with his teeth, nimble fingers expertly fitting the protection in place before taking himself in hand. With agonizing slowness, he teased her aching, sensitive flesh, the smooth head of his cock caressing her clit, making her shudder with pleasure. He slid himself into the hilt taking her leg, folding it up to her body as he pushed deeper into her.

With most clients she would stare at the ceiling or find something to focus on, anything to get through the evening, sometimes it was enjoyable, but that was rare. This. This was something else. His dick game was better than any client before, she felt like she should have been paying him instead of the other way around. The head of his cock hit her cervix and she felt the sharp pressure in her abdomen ready to break in two. Her hands gripped the sheets, pulling them to her as her grasp tightened.

She felt him withdraw leaving her empty, the pitiful whine she gave made her feel a strange sense of embarrassment. He rolled her onto her stomach sliding his hand up the back of her head to get a good hold of her hair at the scalp, he tugged pulling her head back. “Get up, baby girl.” She pushed herself up on her hands arching her back to keep from feeling too much tension on her scalp.

“All the way, that’s a good girl.” He praised her as she got up on her hands and knees. She felt him shift behind her on the bed pushing her legs further open with his knees, taking himself in hand he lined himself up bottoming out in her hard till his hips slapped against her ass.

She keened feeling him stretch her out again. Her body was hot and sticky from the sweat, muscles were already sore in all the right places. But she didn’t care, her client list was men that never were satisfying, never made her crave more. He was different. She rocked her hips back moving along his length to satisfy the tightness building in her abdomen.

“Such a needy, girl. Aren’t you?” She stopped when she realized that she wasn’t playing the role he wanted her to. He gave a sharp tug to her hair, making her cry out. “I didn’t say stop. Fuck me, like the needy girl you are.”

She resumed rolling her hips back onto him gripping the sheets for traction, she moaned feeling her toes curl. A sharp smack landed on her ass cheek fueling her to move faster, moaning and crying out as she clenched around his cock. She sighed, taking in the way her body came down from her orgasm.

His long arms reached around, hand wrapping around her throat before cupping her chin and lifting her face to look up. Her eyes met the clean glass of the mirror on the wall. She always avoided the mirror, kept her eyes off it, she did this with all mirrors. A quick glance to ensure she didn’t look disheveled was all she needed. Mirrors to her always meant self reflection, something she wasn’t always ready for.

“Look at you,” he growled, squeezing her cheeks in his hand. “Look how pretty you look taking all of my cock.”

Her walls squeezed around him at his words, her eyes locked on the mirror in front of her. She had never seen herself like this before. Eyes blown wide, mouth laxed and jaw dropped, her cheeks flushed and her forehead glowing in the light from the thin sheet of perspiration. Her hair was falling wild around her shoulders from all the pulling, her breasts bouncing with every thrust of his body behind her.

He pushed her face down into the mattress, turning her slightly so her nose and mouth were free to breathe. His other hand gripped her hip with a vice rutting his hips into her hard and fast, she could feel him at her belly button, her back stretching in places she didn’t know it could from the way he had her arched up. He moaned, grunted, even let out deep sighs when he hit just the right spot inside her. She wails feeling herself come against him all over again, faintly hearing him say something like ‘that’s it baby’.Her eyes were rolling back into her head as she continued to feel him rut into her. She felt the unsteady movement in his rhythm realizing he was close to his end, and she felt a pang of regret, she didn’t want it to end at all, it was so exhilarating. He gave one final thrust before going stiff behind her, she waited till he caught his breath. First letting go of her hair he relaxed pulling himself from inside her, she gave a whimper and winced at the feeling before pulling herself back up on her hands and knees.

He was already on his feet, hastily pulling his shorts back up over himself, the used condom still clinging to him. Her mind was still in a hazy, post-coital fog, too blissfully satisfied to be bothered by the lack of any parting words or affectionate gestures between them. There was nothing but a quick, fleeting glance over his shoulder as he made his exit, the door shutting firmly behind him, leaving her alone in the aftermath. Once the sound of his departure had faded, she collapsed back onto the bed, her deliciously sore and well-used muscles stretching out as she sank into the mattress. A small, satisfied smile played on her lips - what a thrilling, passionate way to conclude her evening

[tearfallpixie]

They are both fan ones dork 😆😆 I have one more complete than the other though 🤔🤔

May I introduce you to my new obsession..... Fanfics probably incoming .....

All credits to the photographers none of these photos are mine.

[tearfallpixie]

I will finish posting Soulmate Necklace however I'm stepping back from Motionless for a little. So if you are down for Dark Divine fanfics let me know!!!

[tearfallpixie]

Of fucking course. I will let you decide on the fanfic too since you're super into them.

1. Fan in the crowd

OR

2. Fan performes Dark Divine on the xfactor

May I introduce you to my new obsession..... Fanfics probably incoming .....

All credits to the photographers none of these photos are mine.

[tearfallpixie]

I REPEAT FANFICTIONS IN COMING I PROMISE 😭😭😭😭

May I introduce you to my new obsession..... Fanfics probably incoming .....

All credits to the photographers none of these photos are mine.