𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 ᰔᩚ
𝚝𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚚 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎-𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝
༯ pairings: tyriq withers x black oc (rylie withers)
༯ tags: mature (smut) | marriage | urban love | possessive behavior | making out | alcohol | teasing | mild praise kink
༯ a/n: hey guysh! I’m lowkey writing these as a way to procrastinate writing the ending of this Tyriq book I’m almost done with LOL, so enjoy!
summary: Tyriq and Rylie are celebrating their one-year marriage anniversary. They start the night off by having dinner at Nobu, but Tyriq lets it be known that their intimate night is nowhere near over afterward.
Around Tyriq and Rylie, the low murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses fill the upscale atmosphere of Nobu, but neither of them pays much attention to the crowd. Their focus stays locked on each other.
One year.
It still sounds unreal.
Tyriq leans back slightly in his chair, rolling the stem of his wine glass between his fingers before taking another sip of Cab. His white button-up rolled just enough to expose his toned forearms. Across from him sits Rylie, glowing beneath the dim lighting in a fitted white dress that hugs every curve of her figure perfectly. Her skin looks rich and radiant, like the candlelight is made specifically for her.
She watches him carefully while picking at the salmon on her plate.
“Did they cook your wagyu right this time?” she asks with a teasing smile tugging at her lips.
Tyriq hums around a bite of food before nodding. “Mhm.”
“Good,” she replies. “Because last time you acted like Nobu personally offended your bloodline.”
Tyriq laughs softly, shaking his head. “It was overcooked, Ry. You saw it.”
“You almost asked to speak to the chef.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
“I was considering it,” he corrects with a grin.
Rylie rolls her eyes playfully before lifting her wine glass to her lips. Tyriq watches her over the rim of his own glass, the sight of her enough to quiet him for a moment. Even after a year of marriage—and several years together before that—he still finds himself staring at her like he’s just met her for the first time.
Rylie notices, of course.
“What?” she asks, smiling shyly.
“Nothing,” Tyriq says. “Just thinking.”
“That’s dangerous.”
“See? That right there is exactly why I married you. You stay talking shit.”
Rylie laughs, the sound warm enough to loosen something in his chest.
For a brief moment, both of them sit there smiling at each other like the rest of the restaurant disappears.
“I can’t believe it’s already been a year,” Rylie admits quietly. “Feels longer than that… but in a good way.”
Tyriq nods slowly. “I think it’s because we’ve been through so much together already.”
“Especially our first apartment,” she says immediately.
He groans dramatically. “Don’t remind me.”
“The roaches?” she laughs.
“The plumbing.”
“The neighbors that used to argue at three in the morning?”
Tyriq points at her. “Exactly. Trauma.”
Rylie nearly chokes laughing. “We were broke.”
“We were humble,” he corrects.
“No, we were broke,” she repeats through laughter.
Tyriq can’t help laughing with her. Back then, they survive off cheap takeout, share one tiny bathroom, and spend nights sitting on the kitchen counter talking about dreams that feel too big for the lives they have at the time. Somehow, those still become some of his favorite memories.
“You remember when the power went out?” Tyriq asks.
Rylie immediately smiles. “And you tried to pretend you knew how to fix the fuse box?”
“I did know.”
“You electrocuted yourself.”
“It was a small shock.”
“You screamed.”
“I did not scream.”
Rylie leans forward across the table, grinning wickedly. “Tyriq, you yelled ‘CALL THE AMBULANCE’ and scared the hell out of me.”
He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “You swore you wouldn’t bring that up again.”
“I lied.”
Tyriq stares at her for another second before smiling to himself. There’s something about seeing her happy that makes everything else in the world feel quieter.
“You know what my favorite memory is?” he asks.
Rylie tilts her head. “What?”
“The wedding.”
Her expression softens instantly.
“Not even the ceremony,” he continues. “It was after everything ended. Everybody left, and it was just us standing there.”
Rylie smiles faintly, remembering it.
“You looked at me like you couldn’t believe it was real,” she says softly.
“I couldn’t.”
Tyriq reaches across the table then, taking her hand into his. His thumb brushes gently against her knuckles.
“I still can’t sometimes.”
Rylie’s eyes drop to their intertwined hands before she looks back up at him.
“Well,” she murmurs, “you’re stuck with me now.”
Tyriq smirks. “That’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Tyriq leans forward, his dark eyes locked on Rylie with that hungry, teasing glint she knows all too well.
“You keep looking at me like that, Ry, and we’re not making it back to the car before I bend you over something,” he murmurs, voice low and rough.
Rylie’s eyes widen as her cheeks flush, but she holds his gaze. “You’re so nasty.”
“Only for my wife,” he replies, his thumb stroking slow circles over the back of her hand. “My beautiful, perfect wife. You know what that dress has been doing to me all night? Every time you move, all I can think about is how fast I can get it off you.”
She bites her lip, thighs pressing together beneath the table. “We’re in public, Ty.”
“Exactly. Makes it harder for me to behave.” His gaze drops shamelessly to her cleavage before rising again with a wicked smirk. “You wore this on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Maybe,” she whispers, smiling shyly.
Tyriq’s eyes darken. “Just wait until we get home.”
He pays the check without glancing at the total, his focus never leaving her. As they stand, he slides his hand to the small of her back, fingers possessive against the curve of her waist, pulling her close so her hip brushes his thigh.
In the car, the tension crackles between them. Tyriq’s hand rests high on her thigh the entire drive, his thumb stroking dangerously close to where she aches for him. At every red light, Rylie gently rubs her fingers against the bulge growing beneath his pants.
“Can’t wait to get you home and remind you who that body belongs to,” he says, voice thick with want. “That’s all mine. Every soft, pretty inch.”
Rylie shivers as Tyriq presses his hand harder against her thigh.
The moment they step inside their home, the door barely clicks shut before Tyriq pushes her against it. His mouth claims hers in a deep, hungry kiss, one hand cupping her face while the other grips her ass, squeezing possessively.
“Fuck,” he groans against her lips. “You taste so good.”
He lifts her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carries her toward the bedroom. The white dress rides up her thighs, and Tyriq’s fingers dig into her soft flesh with open appreciation.
“Look at you,” he praises, voice low and reverent as he sets her on the edge of the bed. He steps back just enough to drink her in, eyes roaming hungrily over her body. “My perfect woman. You have no idea what you do to me.”
Rylie reaches for him, but he catches her wrists gently, pinning them above her head with one hand while the other slowly unzips her dress.
“Patience, baby. Let me worship you first.”
He peels the dress down her body, kissing every inch of skin he reveals—her collarbone, the swell of her breasts, the soft curve of her belly. When the fabric pools at her waist, he groans at the sight of her in just her lace panties.
“Goddamn, Ry...” He grips her thighs, spreading them wider as he drops to his knees between them. “I couldn’t imagine not having you to myself.”
He presses open-mouthed kisses along her inner thigh, teasingly close but never quite where she needs him. Rylie whimpers, hips shifting restlessly.
“Tyriq…”
“So impatient,” he teases, nipping lightly at her skin. “But you’ve been so perfect tonight—as always. So pretty for me. I think you deserve a reward.”
He finally pulls her panties aside and drags his tongue through her folds in one slow, firm stroke. Rylie moans, her back arching. Tyriq hums in satisfaction, the vibration sending sparks through her.
“That’s it, baby. Let me hear you. Love the way you sound when I eat you.”
He devours her with practiced skill—teasing licks, then deeper strokes, sucking gently on her clit until her thighs tremble around his head. One of his hands stays possessively on her hip, holding her in place while the other slides up to squeeze her breast.
“You taste so perfect, Ry,” he murmurs against her, sliding two fingers inside her and curling them just right. “And you’re always so ready for your husband. I do this to you all the time?”
Rylie’s hands fist the sheets, his praises and teasing pushing her closer to the edge. “Tyriq—please—”
“Come for me, baby,” he commands softly, sucking harder on her clit while his fingers pump faster. “Let me feel you. Soak my tongue.”
She shatters with a broken cry of his name, thighs clamping around him as pleasure crashes through her. Tyriq doesn’t stop, drawing it out until she’s panting and trembling.
He rises, shedding his clothes quickly, his dick hard and heavy. He crawls over her, kissing her deeply so she can taste herself on his tongue.
“See how good you taste?” he whispers. “My favorite meal.”
Tyriq positions himself at her entrance, rubbing the head of his dick against her slick folds, teasing her again.
“Tell me who you belong to, Ry.”
“You,” she breathes, wrapping her legs around him. “I’m yours, Tyriq. Only yours.”
He groans in satisfaction and pushes inside her in one smooth thrust, burying himself in deep. They both moan at the feeling.
“Fuck, so tight. So perfect,” he praises, starting a deep, steady rhythm. “You were made for me. Keep gripping me like that.”
“You make me feel so perfect,” Rylie lets out a breathy moan as she tries to catch her breath.
His hand grips her hip possessively as he thrusts harder, the other braced beside her head. He leans down, lips brushing her ear.
“You take me so well. My beautiful wife. I’m never letting you go. This body, this heart—everything is mine.”
“Everything is yours, Tyriq,” Rylie’s nails dig into his back, her moans growing louder with every thrust. The praise and possessiveness make her clench around him tighter.
Tyriq’s pace quickens, his voice rough with pleasure. “That’s it, baby. Just like that. Gonna fill you up and remind you exactly who you come home to every night.”
He reaches between them, thumb circling her clit until she comes again with a sharp cry. The feeling of her pulsing around him sends him over the edge right after. He buries himself deep, groaning her name as he spills inside her.
Tyriq falls beside her. He kisses her softly as his arms wrap around her.
“Happy anniversary, Mrs. Withers,” he murmurs, voice warm with love and satisfaction. “And we’re nowhere near done celebrating.”