hi, hi!! the name's aisling ( she/her ) and yes, before you ask, you're probably pronouncing it wrong โ it's ash-ling, like the sound your self control makes when you find this blog โจ
i'm 31, living in aest timezone which means i'm either writing filth at an ungodly hour or answering your messages before my coffee kicks in โ either way you're getting the unhinged version of me and frankly that's a gift.
shortnsinful is an indie oc & canon rp blog that is highly selective and very much not for the faint of heart โ think less girl next door, more girl next door who definitely has a secret. i write chemistry that could set off a smoke alarm and plots with just enough emotional damage to keep things interesting. if you're looking for something soft and sweet, i hear there are other blogs for that ๐
i'm semi-active but i work from home so i'm lurking more than you'd think โ slide into my ims, drop a like on my wanted connections, or ask for my discord if you wanna skip the small talk and get straight to plotting something we'd both be a little embarrassed to explain to our mothers.
smut friendly. drama friendly. slow burns that will actually ruin you. let's go. muses under the read more. ๐ค
OC FEMALES:
Margot Robbie โ Iris Hartley | Luxury Brand PR Manager by day, the reason your boyfriend keeps "accidentally" walking past her office by night
Dove Cameron โ Sophie Nash | Bartender who knows your drink order and your deepest insecurities โ and uses both against you
Kendall Jenner โ Sienna Cross | High Fashion Model/Festival Photographer who makes you feel underdressed and overexposed simultaneously
Zendaya โ Maya Rodriguez | Concert Camera Girl/Choreographer โ she's been backstage at every show you've ever loved and you've never once noticed her, which is exactly how she likes it
Selena Gomez โ Luna Pierce | Dispensary Worker/Studio Session Musician โ she'll sort you out one way or another
Taylor Swift โ Claire Winters | Vintage Shop Owner/Songwriter โ the girl who writes sad songs about you before you've even had the chance to hurt her yet
Dua Lipa โ Nadia Kovac | Cocktail Waitress/OnlyFans Manager โ she's not on it, she just runs everyone else's and honestly that's scarier
Madison Beer โ Riley Monroe | Tattoo Apprentice/Social Media Influencer โ will either mark you permanently or ruin your reputation, sometimes both
Ariana Grande โ Aria Chen | Stylist Assistant/Nightclub Hostess โ tiny, dangerous, and has seen every celebrity in their underwear
Sabrina Carpenter โ Lola Bennett | Diner Waitress/Piano Bar Singer โ winks when she takes your order, and somehow you still tip her 40%
Elizabeth Olsen โ Vera Ashworth | Occult Bookshop Owner/Tarot Reader โ she already knows how your story ends, she just likes watching you get there
OC MALES:
Jensen Ackles โ Ethan Blake | Bar Owner/Indie Film Actor โ has the kind of voice that makes your drink order sound like a confession and he knows it
Harry Styles โ Kai Anderson | Musician/Vintage Clothing Store Owner โ will sell you a flannel shirt for forty dollars and make you feel like you got a bargain, then write a song about the look on your face
Jacob Elordi โ Marcus Hayes | Personal Trainer/Actor โ the problem isn't that he's beautiful, the problem is that he's aware of it and has made peace with that being your problem
Chris Evans โ Jackson Pierce | Tattoo Artist/Stunt Coordinator โ looks like he should be coaching little league but his google search history tells a very different story
Ashton Irwin โ River Blackwood | Drummer/Festival Photographer โ perpetually has a camera around his neck or drumsticks in his hand and either way he's using them to ruin your life in the best possible way
CANON FEMALES:
Candice King โ Caroline Forbes | The Vampire Diaries โ control freak with a heart of gold and fangs she'll absolutely use if you mess up her seating chart
Nina Dobrev โ Elena Gilbert | The Vampire Diaries โ the girl every supernatural creature in a fifty-mile radius would die for, and several already have
Leighton Meester โ Blair Waldorf | Gossip Girl โ will destroy your social standing before breakfast and somehow make you thank her for it by lunch
Mischa Barton โ Marissa Cooper | The O.C. โ beautiful, broken, and standing in a driveway at 2am with mascara running down her face โ you already know you're pulling over
Hilarie Burton โ Peyton Sawyer | One Tree Hill โ draws her pain, plays it loud, and will make you fall in love with her while she's still in love with someone else's ghost
Sophia Bush โ Brooke Davis | One Tree Hill โ started as the girl your mother warned you about, became the woman your mother wishes she'd been
Holland Roden โ Lydia Martin | Teen Wolf โ genius-level IQ hiding behind lip gloss and a scream that could literally kill you โ and the lip gloss is the part she chose
Lexi Minetree โ Elle Woods | Legally Blonde โ walked into Harvard in pink and walked out proving every person who underestimated her was the actual idiot in the room
Elizabeth Olsen โ Wanda Maximoff | WandaVision / MCU โ rewrote reality because grief hit harder than any villain ever could, and honestly? the sitcom laugh track made it worse
CANON MALES:
Jensen Ackles โ Dean Winchester | Supernatural โ sells his soul like other people return library books, runs on whiskey and unresolved trauma, and will save your life while pretending he doesn't care about his own
Boone had always felt at home with the band Reunited At Last, even though he hadnโt been there from the beginning. He had joined a couple of years after the group formed, stepping into the guitaristโs role when the previous player decided to pursue a solo career. Since then, Boone had carved out his own place within the band, bringing a distinctive energy to every performance. Tonight, his fingers moved effortlessly across the guitar strings, each note ringing clearly through the venue as the crowd swayed and cheered. He shifted his stance, turning toward the audience and feeding off their excitement before glancing toward the wings. The singer commanded the stage, captivating everyone with her voice and presence. Booneโs attention briefly settled on the blonde femme as he continued playing, subtly angling his guitar in her direction. His fingers moved faster across the strings during the next passage, his confidence evident in the playful grin that crossed his face. He caught her eye and flashed a quick wink before turning back toward the crowd, never missing a beat as the music carried him through the performance.
if anyone turned boone's guitar into an innuendo for his length, iris wouldn't have thought twice about agreeing โ the way he pointed that instrument in her direction, his fingers anchoring over the strings with a dexterity that made her mouth dry, only reminded her of what she would've much preferred to watch him doing. she would've given it all up for a crowd right then, climbed onto that stage and devoured him in front of thousands, let the stadium's roar swallow whatever sounds she'd pull out of him because it was doing absolutely nothing to keep her composure intact. her fingers drifted to her neck, pinching at the carnelian crystal that hung there โ some pretty little thing gifted by someone who didn't necessarily deserve a name but whose taste in jewellery she couldn't fault, the stone warm against her pulse point like it could feel what he was doing to her from thirty feet away. what she hadn't expected was for her hand to travel lower, almost of its own volition, past her blouse, past the jut of her hips and down to the slope of her skirt where the fabric started to cling. she knew there were others around. knew that camera flashes and whispers had a habit of turning into front-page gossip and trending hashtags before the encore even hit, knew what that meant in an industry built on reputation โ but she also worked in pr, and if there was one thing iris hartley knew how to do, it was spin a story until it read exactly the way she wanted. so her fingers traced over the hem of her skirt, feeling the material bunch slightly before they slipped beneath it, creeping slow and deliberate against the thin fabric of her underwear, all while her eyes stayed locked on him like he was the only thing on that stage worth watching.
gothic barbie? god only knew what elle had been thinking when she'd pulled on that diy-ed nirvana shirt โ the one she'd personally attacked with fabric paint and an alarming level of commitment, stamping little pink heart eyes across a smiley face like she was single-handedly responsible for softening the entire grunge movement. as if seattle had been sitting around waiting for someone to suggest that headbanging might go down better with a hot glue gun and a colour palette borrowed from the baby shower aisle. kimberly had called her out on it, rightfully so โ elle could admit that much; she wasn't completely without self-awareness โ but kimberly had also been a full-blown angsty little bitch about it, the kind who carried a personal vendetta the way other people carried designer bags: conspicuously, expensively, and with great intention. as if elle had the entire city of angels strapped to her back and was somehow personally accountable for california being california.
so there she was. standing at her locker, which had slut scrawled across it in thick permanent marker โ out in the open, no asterisks, no ceremony โ because apparently that was just what people did here and nobody thought it warranted so much as a raised eyebrow. back home, they at least had the social grace to pair their cruelty with a kiss on the cheek; insults dressed in pleasantries, hatred wrapped in a smile and a babe. here, it was just: public, unapologetic, and elle had arrived with precisely zero wet wipes and even less patience. she sighed โ the long, hollow kind that came from somewhere around the ribcage โ shoving books into the locker like they'd personally wronged her, so completely done with everything that she'd developed a very specific recurring fantasy involving an airport, a one-way ticket, and the pacific coast shrinking to nothing far beneath her. she heard them before she saw them. combat boots against the hallway tiles โ a deliberate, unhurried clack-clack-clack, like the universe counting down to something elle hadn't agreed to. she didn't look up. she just kept stacking books, rolled her eyes in the general direction of god and ceiling tiles, and waited. "have fun, did you?" she asked, her voice carrying that particular brand of bitter amusement she'd been quietly perfecting โ the kind that almost passed for a laugh if nobody looked too hard. her eyes flicked to the locker, then back to her books. "at least you spelled it right." a beat. "i would've said it should've been written in reverse, but i clearly have more class than you." she pushed a textbook in with her elbow, head tilting slightly. "clearly." / @prcttybaby
"This," He sat his drink down, frown pursing his lips like he had tasted something sour. "Is incredibly inappropriate." Gabriel said, his jaw clenching as he looked at YM. His eyes darted across the room towards where his wife stood mingling with other party-goers.
"I'm not even quite sure how you got in." And that was the main thing that irked him, not that they were here at all, no, he knew they had a small infatuation with him, he had been playing into it after all, allowing them to stay late in his classroom, giving them extra help, extra attention, feeding into it because it was interesting, he would even go as far as to say the attention was nice, it wasn't nice now, he knew they had not been invited, they had no right to just show up and demand his attention, that wasn't how this worked. He was the one in control, he gave as he wished, and he didn't apricate their demands.
Open too: Anyone 20+
Muse: Gabriel Dryer, 56, Psychology and human behavior professor, straight but not opposed to other men.
Plot: Gabriel is your muses professor, your muse has a small crush infatuation with Gabriel that he has been playing into simply because he can and was bored, but now your muse has showed up at a event he is at with his wife.
it was obvious that lola loved games โ football, tennis, whatever the hell was currently unfolding at this party where gabriel's wife had clocked her from across the room and received, in return, nothing but a slow smirk. all full red lips and unbothered pout, like being caught was the whole point. lola was obsessed with it, if she was being honest with herself โ the particular thrill of having the upper hand when by every reasonable measure she shouldn't. two of them, one of her, and still she felt like the only person in the room who knew exactly how the night was going to go. maybe it was the dress. backless, a full slit running the length of it, the fabric hanging loose enough that anyone paying half a mind of attention could catch a glimpse of the upper curve of her arse when she moved. maybe it was just her. probably it was just her.
"it's a party, isn't it?" she asked, tilting her head with a laugh that was easy and unbothered, like his discomfort was genuinely amusing to her โ because it was. "you know, other people in this room think i'm hot." her gaze swept the space around them briefly, leisurely, before settling back on him. "it's not just you." her hand found his arm then โ quick, deliberate, gone again in under two seconds, but long enough that her fingertips had registered the warm press of his shirt fabric, long enough to be intentional. she let the silence sit for a beat. "what?" the pout that followed was more theatre than anything else, eyes wide, shoulders lifting in a shrug that made the dress shift. "because there's an audience now, you don't want to flirt with me anymore?" she let the question hang between them, unhurried, perfectly comfortable watching him squirm inside his own skin at his own party, with his own wife twenty feet away. she'd been in rooms like this before. she'd always walked out of them winning.
her scent was intoxicating. addictive. something one would never be able to find in a run-of-the-mill shop; knowing iris, it was intentionally. nothing came close to her signature smell and he hated it. on the rare occasion he was out in the world on his own and what rubbed off on clothing grew faint, and desperation grew, he couldn't find the perfume to spray on his own. with it clouding his senses now, myles was no better than a dog.
"missed you," the words came quick, overlapping with her own as they left her neat red lips. "i always miss you when i'm not with you." a testament of devotion on his part, one he hoped would please her as much as it pleased him to say it. his hand trailed down the length of her arm, taking in the smoothness of her skin, to guide her hand back to his lips. a decoration of kisses both chaste and lingering pressed into her palm.
whatever she'd said about a collar barely processed in his mind, and yet, he nodded eager as ever. iris could brand him and he'd proudly show it off. how he yearned for that vixen of a woman.
the lack of information gifted drew a slight eye roll, not unusual albeit rare for myles. his broad shoulders widened and his posture straightened, so the angel standing above could see him better; it seems he believes he's a tiny creature physically. "don't careโฆ i justโi just wanna be with you when you're away." he damn near whined, split between stubborn desperation and pathetic submission. "please."
"don't let me say you're cute when you repeat yourself," iris mused, and the tut that fell from her lips was punctuated with a slow shake of her head, golden curls tumbling loose around her shoulders and spilling down the length of her arms like something out of a painting she'd have commissioned of herself. there were things she wouldn't admit to โ wouldn't even let herself sit with long enough for them to take root. here, one of them: her perfume, that saccharine thing she'd had blended specifically, dark and indulgent like chocolate cherries left to bruise, had found its way across more than one man's pillow in the stretch of time she wasn't keeping myles company. call it illicit if you liked, though the arrangement between them was clean enough on paper. call it simply her โ how she fucking loved anyone with enough nerve to be obsessed with her. to fight for her. to make her feel like the only fixed point in a spinning room, the way he was doing right now, still on his knees, mouth pressed into the hollow of her palm, and she felt the warm drag of his tongue against her skin and thought, god, he really would let me do anything to him. it was almost adoringly pathetic, how quickly he'd agreed to the collar.
"maybe something rhinestone," she continued, tilting her head as though she were genuinely deliberating the aesthetic. "have you bark for me." she was teasing โ mostly โ but the image of it settled somewhere low in her and stayed there, because the sight of him this undone, this willingly small beneath her, pulled at something she wasn't always in the mood to name. and then he had the audacity to roll his eyes at her. her hands moved before the thought finished forming โ fingers finding the back of his head, getting lost in those dark, raven tufts of hair, and she yanked, not enough to hurt but enough to make the point land somewhere words couldn't always reach. she didn't bother with a reprimand. the grip said everything. let him sit with it. "and who the hell else is going to get off to my photos if you're trailing around behind me twenty-four seven?" she asked, releasing him with the same ease she'd taken hold, smoothing a single finger along his jaw like an afterthought. "i like you here." a beat. her eyes dropped to him, unhurried, unapologetic. "and then grovelling when i come back."
i donโt want this blog to be strictly for oc writing; Iโm also a multi-muse whore and adore so many fandoms like one tree hill, the o.c., the vampire diaries, supernatural, etc. i just want to write and develop characters and plots. so my character list will have both for those whoโre interested - the ocs and the canon. i also donโt write via discord so please donโt ask me ๐ค.
muse: iris hartley.ย
open for: m / f muses.ย
plot + wanted connections: iris is backstage at a sold-out concert, occupying the wings like she owns them โ because, professionally speaking, she kind of does. as a pr manager with a reputation that precedes her, she's no stranger to the electric hum of a venue right before the encore. your muse could be the artist themselves, a stage manager, or maybe they're a fan with a vip lanyard and enough liquid courage to wander somewhere they shouldn't be.
iris loved a good concert just like everybody else โ the sweat-licked culture of a tumultuous pit, bodies flushed together like they were mid-orgy, the light show pouring from centre stage and how the beams dipped onto the instruments like they could make them hum louder than the hands already did, but mostly, she preferred them because they told her exactly how important she was. she was always in the wings, not purely because her emails were dotted with the signature of a highly affluent pr manager but because when that applause swelled and some hunky billboard-chart-chasing artist glanced her way โ mid-chorus, mid-guitar solo, mid-whatever moment was supposed to belong to a thousand screaming people โ she could just tell. that stolen flicker of eye contact, the secrecy of foreplay conducted under stadium lights when their attention was supposed to be everywhere else, was always better than the fucking, and there would be plenty of that. so there she stood, a low-cut blouse hanging loosely from her figure like it had given up trying to contain her, arms crossed and head bobbing along to the electric, rhythmic pulse of the music as if she hadn't already decided how the rest of the night would go.
open: m/f/nb
muse: myles truman
plot: a little bit of this and a little bit of that
to say that myles spent the day well would be an understatement. he'd slept in a bed that was comparable to a cloud, spent the day drinking imported booze with names he couldnโt pronounce, danced around to old rock nโ roll records in a penthouse that overlooked central park. what could be better?
by the evening he grew bored. what else was there to do aside from lounge around in the golden light like a spoiled dogโwhich he'd done already. he'd paced the foyer back and forth, the living room as well. pacing. anticipating. when would they return?
[ym]. his sugar partner. well, they didn't call it that, but it's what their relationship alluded to: keeping one another company, bringing myles around as their plus one, casual sexโall in exchange for a couple thousand. they were older, far more put together, and attractive in his eyes, so he agreed. most importantly, they took care of him. myles felt like the luckiest bastard in the city.
the gentle chime of the elevator drifted throughout the castle in the sky, alerting the man of his owner's return. catnap interrupted. his eyes barely cracked open before he was up on gangly limbs to welcome their return. his steps grew wider, eating up the distance between them with both ease and excitement.
"i missed you so muchโฆ" he rasped, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed the knot in his throat and the tears that stung his eyes. did he mention how much he craved their company? how antsy time away made him? how desperate he became?
the journey onto his knees was mindless. large, nimble hands grasped at their thighs before he pulled them tight, forcing a hug from the position, his face pressing into their middle. "why couldn't i come with you?"
"obviously," iris purred โ maybe it was her job dipped in luxury, maybe it was because she looked like a designer barbie, all luscious blonde curls and legs that were always better left uncovered, or maybe it was because they had been doing this song and dance long enough now that she just knew she had myles. forget the paper money, she had every strand of his raven, shaggy hair wrapped around her finger โ and not just in this moment, might she add, her nails dragging slow across his scalp, scratching just enough to make him melt while he sat parked on the marble below her like something devotional, something earned. he was whipped and she loved every fucking second of it. her hand traveled to his jaw, curving against the bone of it, fingers dipping to his lips and pressing there, feeling the warmth of his mouth like she was checking it still belonged to her. "you missed me so much, baby, didn't you? my little pet."
depending on how you dissected her tone, that name could've been all adoration on the surface, sugar-spun and saccharine โ or, if you dove a little deeper past the gilt, it was ownership. a deed signed in lipstick. he was hers, and she wouldn't let anyone else have him, not when she was the one throwing money at him, dressing him in cashmere, keeping him fed and feral in equal measure. "should get you a collar around that pretty neck of yours. forget the elevator's chime โ i want to hear it jingle for me whenever i walk through that door." and then he was asking where she'd been, and that drew out her own little tut, tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth like a metronome resetting him. "none of your concern." that was the truth of it โ buying ownership usually only ran one way, and he didn't get to ask questions like that, not with those needy eyes, not from the floor. "i'm here now though, aren't i?" she shrugged, one shoulder lifting with the kind of indifference that cost more than his rent. "you going to let me play with you?"
OPEN TO: any gender, 35+ for intended romance
MUSE: sam braun, 35-50, he/him. celebrity chef. bisexual.
PLOT: sam's invited y/m over for dinner. could be any connection!
"listen, if it's bad, we'll blame ina garten. it's her recipe, not mine!"
"the sauce..." sam waves a hand, "maybe not what i'd go with, but we'll leave it the professionals." a classic joke sam can't help but use over and over again. but it's still strange, to call himself a professional compared to a chef like ina garten.
celebrity chefs? vera wasn't going to tell him that she was used to dining with the glitzy folk, their stardust peppered onto their meals as if it were simply salt and she was the head of the table, quietly cataloguing who would reach for the tomato sauce next like it was one of the many tarot cards she pulled for them โ reading appetites the way she read palms. "right," she nodded with a smirk, "completely up for professional guidance โ if there's a michelin star to her name then we'll blame it on her not being able to pick the right side dish rather than anything being burnt."
muse: javier rojas.
open for: f / nb muses.
plot + wanted connections: javi, a college music professor, is attending a dinner party, one of those fancy affairs where everyone is talking to someone and you can go unnoticed if you stop talking long enough -- your muse is also attending, they've liked him for quite a while and have noticed he's no longer wearing his wedding ring. connections ideas are pretty vast, go wild. age gaps welcome.
he had been excited for the evening, until he actually got there. immediately being asked where his wife was and him having to continuously say she was on a business trip to milan ... which wasn't un-true, it just had nothing to do with why she actually wouldn't be with him. he was finally able to slip away from prying eyes, glass of barely touched rum and coke in his hand as he journeyed to a more secluded area of the large mansion he know found himself in. he wandered, eventually coming to a huge private library, only to see it already occupied. " oh, hello, " he smiles at the familiar face, though it doesn't reach his eyes. " sorry to bother you, i'll just -- " he begins to turn away.
call it education, call it a side-gig, maya had absolutely no reason to ever be attending javi's lectures โ mainly because she was already so embedded in the music world that it pulsed through her like a second heartbeat. a camera perpetually slung around her neck like a talisman, shooting from the pit as though she could will any billboard-charting singer to freeze mid-riff and pose for her, the flash of her shutter tangling with the electric storm of the stage lights until the two became indistinguishable, just white-hot bursts swallowed by screaming crowds. but still, she sat. she attended. she twirled the tip of her pencil between her teeth like it owed her something, as if flirting had never required so much as a strand of her hair โ all while her gaze snagged, every single time, traitorous and involuntary, on the ring on his finger. that damn golden band and how it made her resent its own glisten, the way it caught the fluorescent light of the lecture hall and threw it back at her like a taunt, which was, honestly, a crime, because she lived for color, for the way light bent and shifted and transformed everything it touched, for the way a sunset could drench a whole cityscape in amber and make even ugly things look holy. it was why, the moment she moseyed her way over to him at the dinner party โ weaving past clusters of champagne-drunk laughter and the cloying fog of someone's overapplied cologne โ she noticed the absence of it instantly. how his finger sat bare, nothing left but a pale, tanned ghost of where the band had lived, a tan line like a confession he hadn't meant to make. "no," she said quickly, her hand darting to his shoulder before it retreated back to her side when she caught the implicit weight of it, the warmth of him still ghosting across her fingertips, "we can chat, right? doesn't go against the whole student-teacher thing, hm?"
at her words, a smirk appeared from the corner of nick's lips causing him to chuckle softly, "you're right, i won't stop touching you, but getting to see you squirm? and watching you grow breathless by how close you're getting only to stop you? that is something i would absolutely stop touching you for." any kind of pleasurable reaction he can get from selena he would take any chance in doing so, even if it meant to stop touching her just to see it. at the thought of just how horny she was for him, his mouth watered thinking about just how wet she could be in between her legs right now. the taste of her coming back to his mind when he had went down on her before. feeling the grip of her fingers along the back of his neck caused him to chuckle again. "when it comes to making you feel good, i'm pretty confident in myself. i can make that happen, staying in between your legs, licking up every inch of you wet pussy. even if you were to ask me to stop or try to push my head back, i'd still stay attached. sucking at her clit, feeling you get wetter by the second." just talking to her like this had him so turned on and wanting to taste her already. just thinking about it had his mouth watering, excited to taste her, feeling how good her folds felt against his tongue. hearing every sound coming from her lips knowing how good she was feeling just by the pink wet muscle moving along her sensitive area.
"you're already aching to be touched, aren't you, baby? you wish it was my hand, or rather my mouth touching and licking your sweet pussy hm?" he loved teasing her, the sight of seeing her get flustered by his words, seeing her cheeks flush into a shade of pink made nick feel good and he was throbbing so much already at the thought of fucking her, the thought of tasting her, all of it. he laughed once more when told to shut up for practically calling her out on what she was doing. his expression softened when she mentioned he was perfect as he shook his head knowing that was incorrect and she was perfect in his eyes. "not when you exist in the same room as me." he admitted and sure it was a cheesy pick up line, but it was also a true statement. watching her mouth take his cock made him lick his lips once more as he inhaled deeply at the pleasure he was feeling. he kept his hand on the back of her neck, rubbing the pad of his thumb along there softly to show her some slight praise but to also push her head slightly down to take more of him into her mouth but not being rough with it at the same time.
a smile appears on his lips at her question then laughs softly, "with how good your mouth feels on me, how can i not be?" he teased and grunted softly again when her hand wrapped around him, continuing her movements around him. "you're just amazing at making me feel so good." he told her before feeling her mouth back on him once again. "fuck, baby." he brushed some hair out of her face as he pulled her hair back into his fist to make sure her hair was out of the way. he could feel his own pleasure building while she kept her movements around him with her mouth going until she finally pulled away with a pop. "oh my god.." he breathed out and felt her lips pepper kisses all the way up his body to his chest, throat, and felt her lips hovering slightly over his. "i could be mean and finish myself off and have you watch..." he paused and wrapped an arm around her to flip them over again so he was on top, "...but i really want to taste you." he took both her arms and slid them up over her head using one hand to keep them in place. without a word, he leaned down and captured her lips for a slow passionate kiss before using his free hand to reach down in between her legs wanting to feel just how wet she was for him.
selena had seen her hair through different periods โ longer, shorter, brunette, blonde โ but with nick's hand fisted around a clump of it right then, some strands slipping through his fingers because she had felt him gripping her that fucking hard, that had been possibly her favourite iteration yet. it had been a mark of ownership, treating her as filthy as his words had, and god, how obsessed with those words she had been. she had wanted them written on her. she had wanted them fucked into her. her mouth had been doing exactly what he had promised he would do to her โ sucking, licking, chasing every drop of him like she had been starving for it, working him until her jaw had ached and her chin had been slick with a mess of spit and pre-cum, some of it dribbling toward her collarbones without her doing a single thing to stop it. she had looked wrecked. she had known it. and worse โ she had loved it. loved that she had probably looked exactly like the kind of girl her disney years had spent lying about not being. what she hadn't expected had been his answer to her little ultimatum. one second she had been on top, running her mouth in every sense of the phrase โ and the next, her back had been meeting the mattress with a soft, expensive thud, some luxurious french thread count catching her spine even in the middle of oklahoma.
her wrists had ended up above her head before she had fully clocked the shift, the pressure holding them there not rough, just certain, absolute, completely non-negotiable in a way that had made her cunt clench around nothing. less like restraint, more like placement โ like she had been put where she was supposed to be, and her body had agreed with that assessment embarrassingly fast. her thighs had pressed together on instinct, chasing any friction they could find while she had still been able to, because she had known the second his hand made it down there, she was going to be gone. spoiler: she had already been dripping through her panties. the underwear had probably been a lost cause since somewhere around the airport. she hadn't typically been someone who had let anyone dominate her like this. even if she had fucking loved it. even if her pulse had been throbbing hard enough between her thighs that she could feel it in her clit. staying in control had been her personal kink, hardwired into her from years of having to be. and yet here she had been โ arms pinned, chin filthy, breath shakier than she would have liked to admit, and completely uninterested in doing anything about any of it.
because seeing nick this enthralled, this obsessed, insisting she had been the perfect one between them, saying it like a fact rather than a line, had genuinely done something to her. quietly. thoroughly. exactly where it counted. she had kissed him back just as hard, and her fingers had itched to card through his hair โ she had wanted to feel how sweat-licked those strands were by now โ but she couldn't do a damn thing, and she had pouted against his lips because of it. then his fingers had drifted down to her underwear, and she had smirked. "at least take my underwear off," she commented, as if she had been simply unable to not direct anyone. "i think you deserve to have them as your prize. evidence of how thoroughly you've fucked me with your wit and how much i need you to fuck me more. and once they're off, i want your fingers inside me. i've been thinking about them since the car โ how big they'd feel, how deep you'd get before i even had time to breathe. i want you to open me up slow, then not slow at all. i want to be so full of your fingers i forget how to talk. and then i want your mouth on me right after, so you can taste exactly what you did to me. don't be gentle about it. i didn't ask you to be."
hearing the single word leave her lips sent chills down nick's back. the way it sounded was endearing and sexy all at once. just that alone made him want to hear more of that word escape from her lips again. sure they were in a hotel room alone, but he wanted to hear more words and sounds escape from her lips while they bounced off each wall in this room. a sound that was reserved for only his ears. there's another smirk on his lips knowing she was so turned on for him, "then you must be soaking in between your legs right now, just aching to be touched, hm?" it wasn't a question but more of a fact. with how she sounded, with how she was sitting and moving down his body with her lips, he had feeling that she was already wanting his mouth or fingers touching her, even if she already voiced just how horny she is for him. the thought of her being soaked and throbbing for any kind of touch cause his hard on to throb through his jeans just waiting to pop out for her. a throaty chuckle left his lips as he looked to meet her eyes, "why don't you think about that? just licking your wet pussy knowing that pleasure is just building deep inside of you waiting to explode. then having your body getting so close to coming but i won't let you, only to have you writhing, shivering underneath me." he smirked that alone turned him on even more without even realizing until he spoke. his eyes glanced down as soon as he felt slight movement from her arm causing him to look back up at her with such admiration, "getting excited for me already?"
although knowing she was already close to his throbbing cock, he was anticipating the touch and feel of her palm wrapping around him followed by her warm mouth taking him inch by inch. there's a soft grunt that can be heard rumbling from his throat just by how he was feeling at the slightest touch from her even if it was through his jeans. the thoughts of their night together never left his mind and knowing they were about to replay that same night possibly a little bit different this time around, he shuddered softly at the though. while he was tracing her thumb, he did what he knew she would do. taking his thumb into her mouth, feeling her warm wet tongue wrapping around the digit before sucking softly. he smirked, "you're so beautiful." he lifted his hips up as soon as he felt her tug at the hem of his jeans to pull them down his thighs followed by his underwear. he could feel the slight relief of his cock being freed from his underwear to being now exposed standing straight up against his stomach hard and waiting to be played with, palm or mouth, he didn't care. he just couldn't wait to feel her wrapped around him.
there it was again, that word followed by his name, which he loved hearing. how hot it sounded leaving her lips. he brings his arms up underneath to rest under his head so he could look down and watch while she worked at his hard cock. his head tilted back slightly when she brought her palm around him and stroked him slowly. his hips jerked slightly at her thumb swiping the tip of his cock with how sensitive he was and the slight bit of pre-cum shining at the tip. "fuck." he breathed out and brought one of his hands to rest at the back of selena's neck. his fingers stroking softly at her hair. another grunt and groan can be heard from his throat as soon as the first few inches disappeared in her warm cavern, feeling the warm wet muscle move along his shaft. "fuck you look so good doing that, baby." he breathed out and inhaled deeply through his nose as his tongue slipped passed his lips to moisten them a little just enjoying the sight below him.
"as if you could stop touching me," she humoured, loving this game they had been playing, the way she had been craving him off his words alone โ as if he had been fucking her with syntax, and she had been embarrassingly close to letting him. and then he had brought up going down on her, and it had been as if simply saying it had been enough for her whole body to picture it โ as though her pussy had been the target and his tongue had been the anchor to it, making her moan into the sheets. she had been stopped in her tracks by the pure image, her fingers finding the back of his head so she could grip onto him โ scratching, not lightly this time, enough for him to know she had been feeling a little possessive too. enough for the tips of her nails to remind him she had claws when she wanted to use them. "i had no idea you were this fucking cocky," she told him, her tone licked with need. "you wouldn't do that to me. you'd be too obsessed with the taste of me โ you'd be wanting to go down for seconds, thirds, spending the entire night with your lips on my pussy, just wanting to taste me dry." there had been something else she had been obsessed with โ him turning himself on. she had assumed that personality trait had belonged solely to the middle brother, but seeing nick like this, his dirty thoughts spilling out with her at the centre of every single one, had made her want to play them all out. slowly. thoroughly. properly.
she laughed then, glancing down to where her fingers had been working, catching how he had already noticed โ the observation making her flush hotter than she wanted to admit. she shook her head, two words tumbling out but disjointed enough to sound like two full sentences. "shut. up." and then he had been complimenting her, and the way he had been looking at her right then โ like she had been the only thing in the room, in the state, in the goddamn universe โ had told her he meant every word. "and you're so perfect," she said, and she meant it. even if it was just for now, even if it was just for this moment, she meant it. she smirked around his cock then, her mouth full and her lips plump as she watched him relax back into the pillows, hands folding behind his head โ god, that fucking image alone had turned her on more than she knew what to do with. he looked fully comfortable, fully himself, fully confident in a way that did things to her, and she watched him topple out of her mouth only to spit on her hand, the dribble leaving her lips messily, mixing with the pre-cum already leaking out of him โ glistening, obscene, exactly the way she wanted it.
"you enjoying yourself?" she laughed, wrapping her hand around him again with a slow, twisting pull. "so relaxed. so needy." it had been the little pet names doing the work, the terms of adoration she had been quietly living for โ the best cheerleading system a girl could ask for, honestly. her mouth enveloped him again, cheeks puffing, tongue twisting around his cock in a slow spiral, and the more she tasted him, the more she felt him building under her tongue. she wanted to leave him right on the edge โ teetering, ruined, exactly the way he had promised he would leave her. so she pulled back with a soft, deliberate pop, restraining herself even as her own body screamed otherwise, and kissed her way back up his stomach, his chest, his throat, until her mouth hovered just above his own. "are you going to please me now," she murmured, "or are you just going to finish yourself off and have me watch?"
