#I’ll climb that tower to grab him

[kariokiipeaches]

DO IT EAT IT BUY IT SUPPORT IT SIMP IT GEEK OUT SCREAM RUN AWAY DO A LITTLE DANCE PARTY PARTY PLEASE YES OH MY GOD ITS MY BOY IM DYING I CANT BREATHE THIS IS FANTASTIC THIS IS SOOOOO GETTING SAVED AS MY PHONE WALL PAPER WANNA BY A POSTER PLEASE I NEED TO OWN AN ART PRINT OF THIS DROOLING PANTING MESS

YES

SHGFHJJ K F F DGJGDCHJDFGG DO JGF

asscfsdgjjhfdfffhhhhfs

Ok.

Thank you for this commission, Lun!

My most detailed peace in a while^^

[knight-of-flowerss]

His Prize

I seem to have the Cregan Stark Fever-

NSFW

Masterlist

The Northmen returned to Winterfell with their King, excited to see their families again.

But it wasn’t all in vain, Cregan Stark returned with a promise that was fulfilled on both sides. He would help the Queen in return of a marriage.

Queen Rhaenyra offered a marriage to her daughter, an alliance this strong would ensure their loyalty for eternity.

I sat upon the back of a gorgeous black mare, a silky black mane contrasting with your long, silver locks, matted in her ceremonial braids after a long ride to Winterfell.

Her large, string frame, built for work, strode in line with the Northmen, your newly wedded husband riding beside you on a beautiful white gelding, your powerhouse of a bourse towering over Cregan’s race-battle horse.

He looked relaxed and comfortable on top of his smaller horse, his gaze fixed on the trail infront of him but often breaking off to glance at your face from time to time. 

Winterfell was a large place, not as big as Dragonstone or Kingslanding but still large enough to intimidate anyone crossing or passing it’s threshold.

As they passed through the castle gates, the guards look at you with a look of recognition, not one you were use to back home but a curious recognition as they acknowledged the princess’ beauty.

Your once confident demeanour was replaced with embarrassment as every man, woman and child’s gaze was fixated upon you, your arrival bringing shocked looks to their faces.

Cregan noticed your demeanour change and he chuckled, a smirk forming on his face as he slowed down his horse and leaned towards you slightly, despite the height difference of your horses, you seem to be the same height.

“What happened to that fierce confidence you used to carry around, little princess?”

Your eyes flickered towards the large, bulky man that you now called your husband, your eyes raking up his body and landing on his face before replying,

“It’s just such a change from my home your grace, everyone who knows my name isn’t used to my presence unlike back at home.”

He chuckled softly, taking in your gaze as it roamed over his body, before he reached out a gloved hand to her, offering her a small smirk.

“You don’t have to call me ‘your grace’, darling. We are equals here.”

A shiver rose up your spine as you locked your eyes onto his gloved hand,

“I can’t help it your grace, it’s always been a habit of mine to respect others and use their titles.”

He continued to smirk, taking your hand in his and bringing it in the middle of them, his thumb gently rubbing over your knuckles. His body leaned in further towards her, his voice dropping to a lower, huskier tone,

“The I suppose I’ll just have to break you out of that habit, darling.”

A warm blush came to your cheeks, you tore your hand away from his in shyness and looked up infront of you and saw men signalling where to stop and get off our horses. You stopped at a halt and waited for the Northmen to fetch the steps for you to climb down.

But as I was waiting, Cregan had exited his horse and walked around your mare, he offered his left hand for you to grab as his right hand gripped your hip, helping you down.

Cregan stood there with a shit eating smirk, his eyes roaming over her body before looking up at your face, his smirk softening into a more gentle expression.

Once you were fully off the horse, he still didn’t remove his hands from your hips, still holding you close to him as he tilted his face to the side and studied your blushing face.

“My, my, what a lovely shade of pink on your cheeks, darling.”

Your eyes widened at his statement, you quickly diverted your eyes and let your silver locks flow over your face, covering your cheeks.

He chuckled again, amusement shining in his eyes as he watched you try to hide your blushing face. His hand gently rubs your hip through the fabric of your dress. He took a step closer to you, his body practically pressing against yours as he reached forward with his other hand and gently pushed the hair out of your face, his fingers tracing your jaw.

“Now, now, darling, why try to hide such a pretty blush? Hmmm?”

Your breathe hitches in your throat as he touches your jaw,

“My Lord, we really should get inside, my cheeks are merely flushed due to the coldness of the outside. It is freezing out here and it’s only going to get colder. We can warm up inside.”

You made up any excuse you could muster to get out of the situation. It’s not like you didn’t like having the King in the North doting on you, he was well mannered but quite forward, not that you necessarily minded, but you can’t handle others eyes on you, especially in intimate moments.

You enjoyed Cregan’s touch, he was a handsome and compelling man. A Stark. He had these eyes that could either make you shake in fear or knock your knees as you melt in his gaze.

He was attractive in every single sense possible. But you had just been wed off to him without a second thought from your mother and step-father, your own brother didn’t even protest.

You couldn’t give into his gaze just because he was your attractive husband.

He raised an eyebrow at your excuse, not fully believing it but he decided not to make a big deal out of it. He withdrew his hand from your jaw and took a step back, giving you some space as he took in your face once more, a hint of disappointment in your eyes.

“Hm, I suppose you’re right, it is rather could out here little dragon.”

He turned on his heel and began leading the way inside the castle, not glancing back to see if you were following.



You followed Cregan inside, his long legs taking fast strides and putting your legs to work to try and keep up with his fast pace. Eventually we had reached the large double doors.

Cregan pushed open the doors and led you inside , the sounds of the castle instantly filling your ears. Servants and guards hurried about, doing their assigned tasks.

Cregan walked with purpose, his steps large and strong as he walked towards the Lord’s chambers.

You looked around the hall briefly before you followed Cregan to a small corridor. Where was he going?

“Uhm.. my Lord? Where are we going? We walked through the hall and feast.”

Cregan didn’t stop walking, his pace still steady as he turned his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder, a smirk gracing his lips,

“Impatient, aren’t you, darling? I’m taking you to your new chambers.”

He turned his head forwards again as we had reached a big door, a servant stood outside the room and told Cregan that the room and a hot bath was prepared for him inside.

Cregan turned to the servant and nodded his head in thanks, the servant scurrying off and left the two of you alone.

He turned his gaze to you, his smirk widening as he looked you up and down.

“This will be your room from now on, darling. You’ll be living with me. Alone.”

You stuttered as your head shot up, my eyes staring into his, a mischievous glint dancing around his eye.

“Are you really sure we should be sharing chambers so soon my Lord? We have known eachother all but 2 years and in those two years we’ve only had a handful of interactions before we were wed, are you sure you’re comfortable with us sharing a room together?”

His smirk turned into a full blown smile, his eyes fixated on your face as he toon you in. Oh, you were feisty, he could tell that much.

“Oh, absolutely, darling. I assure you, I’m more than comfortable with it. Very comfortable, in fact.”

He took a step towards you, his smile never wavering as he continues speaking,

“Besides, we’re already married. I see no reason to delay such matters any longer.”

“If you truly wish, your grace.”

You looked up at him with large doe eyes, your lavender iris’s searching his metallic ones.

“Perhaps we should go inside the room and freshen up my Lord, it’s been a long trip and I feel as if I’m caked in dirt.”

You but your bottom lip out and shuffle on your feet, your arms now hugging yourself.

He chuckles, his gaze softening slightly as he took in your adorable expression. He could see right through your little act, you were using your pout and innocence to your advantage, and he found it both endearing and amusing.

He placed a gentle hand on your lower back, feeling how small you were compared to him.

“You’re not completely wrong, darling. You do have a little bit of dirt on your face.”

He raised his other hand, gently wiping away some of the dirt on your cheek with his thumb.

Your eyes focus on his hand, your breathe hitching in your throat. You move your face from his grip and diverted your gaze. You too a few steps towards the door and reached your hand out to grab onto the handle but paused before your fingers could graze the metal.

You turned your head to Cregan. Silently asking for permission to open the door.

Cregan chuckled again, noticing your hesitation and your silent question. He took a step closer to you, closing the gap between you, now standing directly behind you.

He place his hands on your hips, his breath lightly tickling your ear as he leaned his head down closer to you.

“You don’t need my permission to open the door, darling. This is your room too, remember? You can do whatever you wish.”

“I just want to make you happy my Lord” you replied.

He hummed as he felt your small body pressed up against his, his hands staying on your waist. He enjoyed having you so close, he relished the feeling of your curves in his grip.

He moved closer, his chest now flush against your back as he lowered his head once more, murmuring in your ear,

“And you already do, darling. You make me very, very happy.”

“And how is that my Lord?”

He chuckled, his hot breath still caressing the side of your face, sendings shivers down your spine.

“I have a beautiful, feisty and loyal wife who I will now be spending every night with for the rest of my life. What more could a man ask for?”

“How about we enter our room first my Lord, I still need to bathe.”

“Hm, of course, darling.”

He nodded in agreement and toons step back , allowing you to push open the door. He gestured for you to walk in first and followed close behind, his eyes roaming over your body once more before he shut the doors, locking it behind him.

You looked around the large room. A bed stood stoic in the middle of the room, covered with layers of soft and fluffy furs. There was a large two person table with wooden chairs, on top the table there was a jug and two glasses, and on the other side of the room there was a large tub filled with water and steam radiating off it.

Cregan watched your eyes rake over the room, a smirk on his face as he took in your expression.

He found your your innocent curiosity endearing, and he knew that you had probably never seen a Lords chambers before.

He walked over to one of the wooden chairs and began taking off his gloves, placing them on the table.

“Do you like it darling?”

“Very much so my Lord, the bed looks so inviting, it seems like it can keep me warm during the winters,.. like you my Lord..”

You turn towards the bath as he chuckles behind you. Your body was practically begging you to let it relax in the soothing water.

“Uhm, my Lord? Is there a curtain of the sort to cover the bathing area while I soak?”

Cregan chuckled, watching as you admired the bed and the tub of hot water. His eyes lingered on your form for a moment before he spoke again. He leaned against the table, a smirk slowly forming on his face

“Yes, darling, there is a curtain. But…”

He paused, his smirk widening at the thought of what he was about to request

“I have a request of you, first.”

“What do you request of me your grace?”

He pushed himself off the table, slowly walking up to you, his smirk still in place. He stopped when he was right in front of you, towering over your small frame, your face looking up at him with curiosity. He reached out a hand and gently touched your chin, tilting your face up even more.

“I want you…”

He paused, his smirk turning into a smile as he looked down at you.

“To undress for me. Slowly.”

Your eyes widen at his request, chest enlarging as you take in a deep breath.

“I’m not sure what you mean my lord. You want me to undress for you?..”

You stare into his eyes and part your lips, going to speak but the words don’t leave.

He chuckled again at your surprised expression, finding you innocent act to be quite amusing. He kept your chin tilted up, his fingers still lingering on your skin as he looked down at your face.

“I think you know exactly what I mean, darling.”

He lowered his other hand and placed it on your hip, his fingers gently rubbing your waist through the fabric of your dress.

You lick your lips and contemplate your next move, you end up grabbing his hands and pushing them off you and spinning on your heel. You stalk towards the tub, your back facing Cregan. You stop a few inches infront of the tub of water. Pausing before reaching up to unlace the front of your dress, slowly pushing it off your shoulders and exposing your slender arms.

Cregan watched as you walked towards the tub, his eyes fixated on your back as you began to undo the laces of your dress. He couldn't help but smile as you pulled the dress off your shoulders, revealing more and more of your bare skin to him. He took a few steps closer, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes slowly roamed over your bare shoulders, admiring your slender arms.

“Keep going, darling.”

His voice sent a shiver through your spine.

“Whatever you desire my lord.”

You whispered breathlessly as you pushed the fabric down your torso, exposing your chest to the wall and your back to Cregan.

Cregan's breath hitched in his throat as he watched you slowly unveil your body to him, his eyes roaming over your bare back and your slender torso, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was clenching his fists.

“That's it, darling. Keep going.”

He was so close behind you now, he could reach out and touch your bare skin if he wanted to, and he desperately wanted to. He wanted to run his hands all over her body, feel your soft skin beneath his rough hands.

The slender fingers paused, deciding wether you should expose yourself towards your new husband. It is duty to do anything he pleases. So you decided against your better judgement and pushed the dress down, going over the curve of your ass and down your plush thighs. The dress pooled at your feet as you stepped out of it, your hands gripping the bath before going to step inside.

Cregan stood there in a daze, his eyes slowly raking over your almost fully naked form. Why would we was even more beautiful than you imagined, your body more exquisite than he could ever have imagined. He was at a loss for words, his mind was completely blown by the sight of your bare torso and thighs. He took a step closer, his hands itching to touch you, to feel your soft flesh under his palms.

He snapped out of his daze when you moved to step into the tub. He quickly reached out and grabbed your wrist, stopping you from getting into the water.

Your eyebrows furrow as your head snaps towards his wrist and then go his face,

“My Lord, is something wrong? Did you want to bathe instead?”

He chuckled and shook his head, his eyes drifting back down to your body, taking in your slender frame and your bare thighs. He swallowed hard, his pulse quickening as he continued speaking.

"No, darling. I want you to get in the water, but I have another request."

He took a step closer, his body now pressed up against your back. You placed hip hands on hips, his fingers gently gripping your bare skin.

Your voice comes out warm and soft as you reply to him,

“And what request would that be my Lord?”

He smiled at your response, relishing the feeling of your body pressed up against his. He moved one of his hands down to yor belly, slowly rubbing his fingers over her skin.

“I want you to let me wash you, darling.”

He leaned down and nuzzled his face into your neck, his breath warm against your skin as he spoke again.

“Every inch of you.”

“Whatever you desire, i will fulfill my lord. And if that’s to wash every, single inch of my body as i bathe, then I will allow it. But you’re looking quite dirt ridden too my lord, perhaps you want to bathe after me.. or with me.”

You do admit, it was brave of you to say this but if you were going to make this man happy, you guess being in his chambers might be the right place to start.

Cregan chuckled and hummed against your neck, his breath tickling your skin. He loved the sound of you submitting yourself to him, your words, as bold as they were, made his chest surge with satisfaction.

“Oh, darling, are you suggesting that I undress and take a bath with you?”

He nibbled at your neck, placing gentle kisses along your skin as he spoke again,

“I like that idea, darling. I like it a lot.”

“If you truly like it then you’ll join me my lord”

You step into the water before Cregan can stop you, turning to face him, your breasts exposed to him before you sink into the water and stare at him, waiting for him to join you.

Cregan cursed under his breath as you stepped into the water, you body sinking down and disappearing underneath the water, only your head remaining above. He stared down at you, his eyes raking over her bare neck and your shoulders, his gaze moving lower and lower down to your covered chest.

He swore again, muttering something incoherent as he began pulling his tunic over his head, tossing it on the floor without a care. He quickly began undressing, stripping off each piece of clothing until he was bare chested, his pants still on.

“I thought you wanted to join me my Lord, but you’re still not bare?”

You teased him as you shuffled with anticipation in the water.

He chuckled, his hands moving down to his pants as he slowly began pulling them down, taking his time as he continued looking at you in the tub, the water covering her body up to your collarbones.

“Be patient, darling. I don't like to do things quickly.”

He pushed the pants down and stepped out of them, kicking them to the side and standing there in front of you, completely naked and unabashed. He smirked as he saw your eyes roam over his body.

“I see why the girls fawn over you my Lord, should I consider them my enemies?”

He chuckled and stepped into the water, hissing as the warm water enveloped his body, the steam slowly rising and filling the air.

“Hm, is that so? And what makes you say that, darling?”

He moved closer and grabbed onto your hips, pulling your towards him until your body was flush against his, your back now against his chest.

“Well for one I’ve heard your not shy of training without your shirt on, in fact I’ve heard you prefer it. I’m sure the local girls must be falling at your feet because of your stocky, protective build and your defined features.”

Your hand reaches up from the water to reach behind you and stroke his face.

He hummed in agreement as he felt your hand on his face, your fingers gently tracing along the lines of his jaw. He chuckled at your words, a proud smirk slowly forming on his face.

“I like to keep my body in prime condition, darling. And yes, it does help when I have lovely ladies watching me train, drooling over my body.”

He smirked even more as he spoke, feeling your body pressed up against his. He could feel the way your curves molded perfectly against his chest and abdomen.

“Cregan..”

Using his name was natural even though it was the first time you had used his name in his presence.

Hearing his name come out of your mouth for the second time caused his chest to tighten, his heart skipping a beat at the sound of your sweet voice saying it.

“Hmm, that's better darling. Say my name again.”

He let go of your chin and instead moved his hand to your hair, gently cupping the back of your head and running his fingers through the soft locks.

“There are no other women who I am interested in. There is only you, my wife.”

You look at his lips, seemingly entranced by them.

“Only me?”

You look up at him.

“You are yet to prove this my Lord.”

He smirks, his eyes narrowing as he picks up on the hint of teasing in your tone. He moves his hand down to rest on your lower stomach, pulling you even closer until there was hardly a breath of space between your bodies.

“Is that so?”

He says, his voice low and seductive.

“And what do you expect from me, darling? How do you want me to prove it?”

“You haven’t even bathed your wife yet dear husband, you promised.”

His smirk widens, his eyes darkening with lust and desire as he heard your reminder. He reached over and grabbed the soft cloth from the edge of the tub, and began rubbing it over your skin, the steam from the water making the air feel thick and heavy between you.

“You're right, darling. I promised to wash you, and that's what I plan to do.”

He began running the cloth over your shoulders and back, his touch gentle but firm as he cleaned every inch of your skin.

You leaned your head back against his shoulder and let out a sigh, feeling his hands explore your body.

He continued running the cloth over your skin, his hands moving slowly and deliberately as he cleaned you. His eyes roved over your body, taking in every inch of your exposed skin as he bathed you.

“You're so beautiful, darling.”

He whispered, his mouth close to your ear as he spoke. His voice was low and husky, filled with a mixture of desire and reverence. He couldn't help but let his hands wander, tracing over your curves and caressing your soft skin.

“I think you’re missing a spot husband.”

He chuckled and playfully nipped at your ear, his hands pausing their slow movements as he hummed against your skin.

“Is that so? Which spot am I missing darling?”

You grabbed his hand and dragged it up your body, up your torso and landing on your chest, letting him fondle your tits as you bite your lip.

He chuckled lowly, his fingers gently caressing your soft flesh as he teased your sensitive nipples.

“Is this the spot you wanted me to wash darling?”

He whispered into your ear, his voice rough and sultry as he spoke. His touch was firm but gentle, his hands slowly moving over your mounds as he washed you.

“Mhmm..”

You moaned out through your lips, your teeth still biting your bottom lip as you whine and whimper.

“You’re very good with your hands Cregan.”

He hummed in agreement, his hands continuing to move over your body, gently massaging your soft flesh as he washed you. He liked the way you were responding to his touch, the way your body was shivering and trembling under his hands as he touched you.

“I'm glad you think so, darling. I enjoy using my hands, especially on you.”

He spoke softly into your ear, his lips skimming over the sensitive skin of your neck and shoulders as he washed you.

You turn your head to face him as you shuffle your hips.

He could feel your hips moving against his as you shifted, and it sent a jolt of heat through his body. He pulled you even closer, his chest pressing against your back as he continued to wash you, his movements growing more deliberate and intimate.

“Darling, you're being a tease.”

He whispered, his voice low and rough as he spoke into your ear. His hands were moving lower now, slowly trailing down your stomach and over your hips.

“You’re contradicting yourself dear husband. Your hands are teasing my body while your words and teasing my mind.”

He chuckled lowly and nipped at your ear again, his hands continuing to roam over your body, exploring every inch of your soft flesh. He could feel your trembling and shivering under his touch, the fire between you growing hotter and hotter.

“Maybe I do it on purpose, darling. I like seeing you squirm and whimper, begging for me to touch you.”

He whispered into your ear, his voice laced with a hint of darkness and dominance.

You squirm on his lap, staring I to his eyes.

“Your words are like honey, my Lord. But does your mouth taste like it I wonder?”

You subconsciously open your legs and push your face a little closer to his.

He grins, his smirk growing wider at your words and the way your body is reacting to him. His eyes dart down to the space between your legs, his gaze lingering on your exposed skin as he slowly moves his hands up your thighs, stopping just short of touching you where you crave it most.

“You want to find out, darling? Is that what you want?”

He looks up and locks eyes with you, his gaze full of heat and desire as he waits for your response.

“I was my mothers most curious child for a reason.”

He chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss to your bare shoulder, his lips lingering against your soft skin as he spoke.

“You are a curious one, aren't you? Always wanting to explore and learn more.”

He moves his hands further up your thighs, his fingers skimming over your skin and closer to your core. But he stops short, his touch just shy of where you want it most.

“And are you curious to taste my lips, darling? To see if my words taste as sweet as they sound?”

“It’s my most desired question at this moment in time. But maybe you could put that hand to use while your putting your mouth to use?”

You suggested seductively. You wanted him to touch you. To circle your most sensitive part and make you writhe in his grip.

He smirked against your skin and nipped at your shoulder, his lips grazing the spot as he spoke.

“Such impatience, darling. But I suppose I can indulge you.”

He moved his hand up even higher, his fingers brushing against your core, but still not quite touching you. His thumb gently caressed your skin, teasing you, as his lips moved to your neck, slowly trailing kisses along your skin.

“If you are to indulge me dear husband, then you will kiss me and be more confident with your hands, I need your touch husband.”

He chuckled against your skin, his smile growing wider as he teased you some more with his hands.

“Is my little darling getting desperate for my touch? Wanting me to kiss her and touch her the way she wants me to?”

He moved his lips to your ear, his tongue flicking out to tease your lobe as he spoke.

“You need my touch, darling? You crave it, don't you? My mouth and hands all over you, touching you and pleasuring you.”

“If you don’t touch me soon Cregan I will get the Seven to chastise you. Please just touch me husband…”

You whimper out as you ouch your hips into his fingers.

He chuckled and pressed a kiss behind your ear, his fingers finally, finally, finding your core and gently circling the sensitive bud. His breath was hot against your skin, his breathing becoming heavier as he spoke.

“You're so impatient, my little darling. You want my touch so badly, don't you? You want me to touch you and make you feel good, don't you, darling?”

“Fuck.. yes dear.. Cregan… please kiss me…”

You manage to mumble out through your whines and gasps.

He hummed against your skin, his fingers continuing to work over your core, gently rubbing and teasing you as you whimpered and writhed in his lap.

“That's it, darling. Moan for me. Say my name.”

He shifted your body in his lap, pulling you even closer as he nipped at your neck.

You grabbed his face from your neck and lifted it up. You pulled him down and pressed his lips against yours, moaning into his mouth as he continued rubbing his calloused hands over your sensitive bud, overwhelming you.

He moaned against your lips, his tongue delving into your mouth as he kissed you passionately. His fingers continued to work over you, his touch firm and deliberate as he teased and pleasured you. He could feel you trembling and shaking in his arms, your moans and gasps sending a thrill through his body.

“You taste so good, darling. So sweet, just like I imagined.”

He mumbled against your lips, his voice rough and hoarse with desire.

His left hand continued to work on your sensitive area as his right hand caresses your breasts. You bring you right hand down to press his hand into his core and lifting your hips up into his fingers while your left hand is tangled into his thick, dark hair.

He groaned against your lips as he felt you pressing his hand against your core, the gesture driving him wild. His fingers continued to work over you, his touch growing more confident and possessive as you writhed against him. He broke the kiss and moved his mouth to your neck, his lips and tongue trailing over your skin as he spoke.

“That's it, darling. Take what you want. Use my hand, use my body.”

You whine and moan out loudly.

“Husband please.. Cregan..”

Whimpering, you lazily move your hips back and forwards, both on his hand and his crotch, making him squeeze your nipple tight and roll it in his fingers, heightening your pleasure.

“Please Cregan.. make me feel overwhelmed by your touch..”

He moans into your neck, his breath coming out in ragged puffs as he feels you grinding yourself against his hand and hip. Your whimpers and whines are driving him wild, and he can't help but grow more dominant and possessive as he hears your pleas.

“You want me to overwhelm you, darling? You want me to make you beg and squirm and whimper for me? To make you forget your own name as I touch you?”

“Please Cregan… I’m begging you..”

He grins against your skin, his voice dark and possessive as he speaks.

“You're so needy, darling. So desperate for my touch. And you're begging me already?”

He nibbles at your neck, his teeth grazing against your skin as he continues speaking,

“Do you want me to touch you more, darling? To make you feel good? To make you feel so overwhelmed with pleasure that you can't think straight?”

“Yes! Yes Cregan.. please make me fall apart on your fingers.. please..”

He groans against your skin, your words and pleas driving him wild. His fingers continue to work over you, his touch firm and confident as he does his best to overwhelm you.

“You're begging for it so nicely, darling. You want me to make you fall apart on my fingers, don't you? You want me to tease and pleasure you until you can't think of anything but my touch?”

“Mhmm”

You bite your lip as you feel yourself throbbing as he stroked you. You reached to his hands and pushed further down, needing his fingers to focus on your entrance while his thumb strokes your clit.

He chuckled and bit your ear, his voice rough and hot against your skin.

“You're so impatient, darling. So desperate for more.”

“I’m so desperate for your touch Cregan. Give me more. You said for me to use you and that’s what I’m doing.”

You guide his fingers inside you. Resting your head against his chest as you breathe out a moan.

He groans into your ear as you guide his fingers inside, his breath ragged and heavy as he feels your heat around his digits. Your words and your touch are driving him wild, making him even more possessive and dominant as he speaks.

“That's right, darling. Use me. Take what you want from me. Let me make you feel good.”

“Gods Cregan..”

You clench around him from his words, he had this affect on you, he could make you soaked with just a stare.

He grins against your neck, his words coming out in a low, possessive growl as you clench around him.

“You're so wet for me, darling. So needy and desperate for me and my touch.”

He leans down and bites your shoulder, his teeth scraping against your skin as he continues working his fingers inside you.

“You're mine, darling. All mine. Every inch of you.”

“Please Cregan… faster.. I’m so close..”

You grabbed his face and forced his forehead against yours, staring into his eyes as you roll your hips against his hand.

He chuckles, his eyes locking onto yours as you force your foreheads together. You’re so close, he can feel it in the way you’re moving against him, in the way your breath is coming out in short, ragged pants. His fingers move faster inside you, his touch firm and deliberate.

“Cregan.. fuck..”

You moan out, your pussy pulsing as your eyebrows furrow and your mouth forming a large O, you were so so close, you just needed that extra push to reach your peak.

He can feel you pulse around him, your body trembling with the build up of pleasure as you get closer and closer to the edge. He can see the look of ecstasy on your face, your mouth open in that perfect little 'O' as your moan and whimper for him.

“Come for me, darling. Let go and come for me.”

He whispers into your ear, his fingers moving even more quickly as he tries to push you over the edge.

“Fuck.. fuck! My Lord, I’m cumming! Fuck.. Cregan!”

With one last shout of his name your back arches off him as your legs tremble and you basically scream a moan as you come, enjoying the wave of ecstasy wash over you as you clamp your legs shut on his hand and forced his mouth onto yours, containing your moans.

He grins and kisses you passionately, swallowing your moans and screams as you cum. He can feel your body trembling and shaking in his arms, your legs clenched around his hand as you ride out the waves of pleasure. He continues to press his fingers inside you, prolonging your orgasm as he whispers praises into your ear.

“That's my good girl. Let go and let me feel you come apart like that.”

He mumbles into your ear, his voice rough and possessive as he holds you against him.

“I love you so much dear husband. So so much. Cregan, you complete me.”

You manage to breathe out after your orgasm rattles your frame.

He smiles down at you, his expression full of affection and devotion as he holds you against him. Your words fill him with a sense of pride and joy, and he feels a deep sense of love and protectiveness for you.

“I love you too, darling. You're everything to me. My world would be empty without you in it.”

He kisses the top of your head and gently pulls you to his chest, holding you close as he continues to speak.

“You're my everything. My heart, my soul, my very essence.”

———————————————

Tag list: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom

[sugurugetoshairbrush]

Work Rivals with Office Siren!Suguru Getou

Getou Suguru is the worst.

The absolute worst. He makes your life a living hell, your job a warzone, and worst of all, he’s the most maddeningly attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on.

You hadn’t always been mortal enemies. In fact, your first impression of him was something out of a cheesy rom-com.

On your first day as a junior accountant, you stopped by a local coffee shop to grab a medium, hot, cream, no sugar. The moment your order was called, both you and a sharply dressed man stepped up to the counter.

The first thing you noticed was his height—towering enough to make you tilt your head back. On the way up, you took in his impeccably tailored navy suit, crisp white shirt, and slim black tie. His sleeves were neatly cuffed at the wrists, revealing a deep bronze complexion adorned with a flashy silver Rolex and a few understated rings.

When your gaze finally reached his face, your breath hitched. He was striking. Long black hair tied back in a half-up style, sharp cheekbones, and a strong jaw. Black gauges and a gleaming silver eyebrow piercing accentuated his features, and a pair of rectangular glasses slipped slightly down the bridge of his nose. He eyed you with an air of irritation, violet eyes glinting behind the glare of the café lights.

“Is this yours?” he asked, gesturing to the coffee being held out by an increasingly impatient barista.

You had a perfectly charming response prepared in your head. But as luck would have it, your brain short-circuited, and what came out instead was less… ideal.

“Why else would I be here? Course it’s mine. It’s my first day, and you’re holding me up.”

The sharpness in your tone made you wince internally, but you couldn’t backtrack now. Crossing your arms, you tilted your head, doubling down.

His brows knit together as he huffed. “Could’ve done without the attitude. Just take it and go.”

You grabbed the coffee with a muttered, “Whatever,” and turned on your heel, heading for the door. But before it swung shut, you glanced over your shoulder at the disgruntled stranger. At least you’d never have to see him again, right?

Wrong.

When you arrived at work and sat through the orientation, you focused on staying out of trouble. That plan went out the window when you were led to your cubicle—right across from a familiar face.

Your guide tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, and when his eyes met yours, surprise flickered for the briefest moment before being replaced by irritation.

“—and this is Getou Suguru, your cubicle neighbor. It’s also his first day as a junior accountant, so don’t be shy. This job can get pretty isolating, so building relationships is important,” your senior said cheerfully.

Forcing a polite smile, you extended your hand, hoping he’d let your earlier encounter slide. His handshake was firm, his larger hand warm against yours.

“Nice to meet you,” he said smoothly. “Looking forward to working with you.”

Your senior walked off, satisfied. But as soon as he was out of earshot, Getou grabbed a bottle of hand sanitizer, pumping an aggressive amount into his palm.

“Enjoy sharing the same title,” he said coolly. “Soon, I’ll be your superior, coffee-girl.”

He spun his chair around, strands of sleek black hair whipping over his shoulder.

That was six years ago.

Time had not softened the animosity between you two. If anything, it had calcified into a rivalry so intense it pushed both of you to climb the ranks faster than anyone expected. You were both promoted to Corporate Controller—a position that typically took eight years to reach—on the same day.

It was supposed to be a single-person role, but after the CFO reviewed your identical performance stats, he decided to make an exception. Now, you and Getou are seated on the 36th floor of the company’s sleek high-rise, with matching titles engraved on silver plaques outside your offices.

The only thing separating you is a glass wall, through which you exchange daily glares.

Competition fuels everything. From routine tasks to major projects, you turn every assignment into a wager. The CFO, Nanami Kento, has become your unofficial referee. At first, he admired your drive. Over time, though, even his legendary patience has begun to fray.

“Getou’s management style is 2% less efficient than mine,” you declare during a performance review, presenting your meticulously crafted charts.

“Her sales plan took a 0.5% dip last quarter,” Getou counters with his own spreadsheet. “In hindsight, my proposal conserved more resources.”

“His data compression wastes company time!”

“Her budget oversight missed the social media revenue I proposed—”

“You stole that idea from me!”

“SHUT. UP.”

Nanami’s voice, usually calm and measured, reverberates through the room. He stands abruptly, the tension radiating off him like heat.

“I cannot take another second of your childish bickering,” he snaps, slamming a hand onto his desk. “You’re both brilliant, hardworking, and utterly insufferable. You’ve turned this office into a battlefield, and frankly, I’m this close to quitting just to escape you.”

The words hang heavy in the air.

If Nanami’s outburst isn’t enough to make it clear something has to change, the rest of the accounting branch soon makes it crystal. Your colleagues have begun avoiding you and Getou like the plague, steering clear of the drama that follows wherever you go.

Well, everyone in the accounting branch has turned against you and Getou—except for one person: your one and only work friend, Gojo Satoru.

Gojo, the accounting manager, ranks just below you. He is a walking billboard for excess, always dressed to the nines in custom Dolce & Gabbana baby-blue suits that match his piercing cerulean eyes. Every month, he carries a new designer briefcase, each more luxurious than the last, and you have yet to see him repeat one.

He wasn’t just anyone. Gojo is—or was—the heir to a global media empire. His great-grandfather had founded the conglomerate, which owned everything from cable networks to film studios and streaming platforms. But seven years ago, the Gojo family had severed ties with their infamous black sheep.

Gojo had always been a loose cannon, his antics splashed across tabloids with alarming regularity. When he was finally caught in a particularly compromising situation—a sleazy nightclub rendezvous involving a rival conglomerate’s heir and a bottle girl—his family decided they’d had enough. The Gojo media machine couldn’t suppress the scandal, and rather than shell out another fortune trying to salvage their name, they cut him off.

He went from riches to rags—or as close to “rags” as someone with Gojo’s charisma and wits could get. He clawed his way up the ladder at your company, and while his charm earned him plenty of allies, his ego alienated just as many. That left you as the only one who could truly tolerate him. Perhaps it was your shared arrogance, though yours stemmed from your relentless rivalry with Getou, while his was… well, Gojo was just Gojo.

Which is why you’re currently in a supply closet, your back pressed against the metallic shelving as Gojo shakes your shoulders like a madman, his usually smug face looking uncharacteristically panicked.

“You have got to end this feud with Getou,” he hisses, his bright blue eyes practically glowing in the dim lighting. “It’s spiraling out of control. The whole department’s gone to hell. Nanami’s snappy, everyone’s overworked, and the accountants are making more mistakes than ever because they’re so stressed.”

He runs a hand through his shock of white hair, sighing dramatically before adding, “You two have the worst reputation I’ve ever seen. And coming from me—someone who’s made global headlines for my bad behavior—that’s saying a lot.”

You open your mouth, ready to defend yourself, but Gojo raises a hand, cutting you off.

“Don’t even start with the whole ‘but our numbers are the best’ speech,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Because while your stats are impressive, they’re not enough to make up for the chaos you two create. And,” he leans in closer, a devious smirk curling his lips, “don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at him.”

You freeze, your heart pounding as if he’d just exposed your darkest secret.

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” Gojo teases, his tone sing-song. “You’re practically undressing him with your eyes half the time. It’s honestly disgusting. If this is your idea of flirting, you might be a masochist. Or a sadist. Or both. Either way, the rest of us shouldn’t have to suffer through this painfully obvious sexual tension.”

Your cheeks burn, and for once, you’re speechless.

Gojo straightens his lapels, his smirk widening. “I’ve had enough of this nonsense. I’m going to fix it, one way or another. Consider this your warning.”

Before you can respond, he spins on his heel and storms out, slamming the door behind him. 

You stand there for a moment, your mind racing.

“What can he even do?” you mutter to yourself, laughing nervously. “He’s just an accounting manager.”

But you’d underestimated Gojo.

By the time you return to your office, he’s already marched into Nanami’s and laid out his nefarious plan. Meanwhile, you find yourself staring blankly at the income statement on your screen, utterly distracted.

Your gaze drifts to the glass wall of your office, where you can see Getou seated at his desk. He’s wearing a fitted chestnut vest over a crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his tanned forearms. His black hair is tied in a loose bun, a ballpoint pen shoved haphazardly through it.

As you watch, he reaches up to twirl a strand of hair around his finger, his violet eyes scanning a thick packet of papers. When he suddenly glances up and catches you staring, your breath hitches.

His piercing gaze darkens, and a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. He arches an eyebrow, his expression equal parts smug and devastatingly attractive. Then, as if to torment you further, he returns to his work, the faintest smile still lingering on his lips.

You shift uncomfortably in your chair, heat pooling in your cheeks. If your hatred of Getou is a defense mechanism, it isn’t working—if anything, it only heightens your attraction to him.

But you resolve to keep your distance, for the sake of professionalism.

That resolve lasts precisely one day.

The next morning, Nanami summons you to his office. Confident in your newfound clarity, you stride in—only to feel your confidence waver when you see Gojo lounging against the window like a model in a photoshoot, the sunlight framing him perfectly.

Then the door opens behind you, and in walks Getou.

He takes the seat next to you, his legs spread obnoxiously wide, oozing dominance.

Nanami wastes no time. “I’ve reached my limit with your behavior. The entire branch is suffering because of you two. So, effective immediately, you’ll both be attending the annual financial policy conference together as a team-building exercise.”

You groan. “Sir, with all due respect, I don’t think—”

“This is non-negotiable,” Nanami interrupts, holding up two plane tickets. “And to ensure you take this seriously, know that if this doesn’t work, I will demote both of you and give your positions to Gojo.”

Gojo grins triumphantly.

Nanami adds, “And don’t think I won’t be monitoring your behavior. The conference is hosted at one of our company hotels, so we’ll have access to surveillance.”

As you leave his office, the weight of the tickets in your hand feels suffocating. Later that evening, you seek refuge straight off of your shift, at the nearest bar, ordering a drink to drown your sorrows.

Slouching on the barstool, the straps of your dress slip down your shoulders, but you don’t bother fixing them. At this point, you’re too far gone to care. Nursing your drink quickly turns into downing shots, thanks to the kindness—or opportunism—of nearby patrons. Some, sensing your frazzled state, buy you a drink out of pity. Others, mostly men, let their eyes linger on your neckline before waving down the bartender to pour you another on their tab.

You lean your cheek against your arm, swirling the straw in your glass absentmindedly. The din of the bar becomes white noise as your thoughts spiral. Then, you sense a presence settling on the stool next to you.

“Rough day?”

The voice is low, amused, and far too familiar. You stiffen before letting out a slow, tired huff.

“Fuck off, Getou.”

You aim for venom, but your tone lands somewhere closer to exhausted. His chuckle vibrates through the space between you, and then you feel the warmth of his hand on your shoulder, his fingers tracing small, deliberate circles.

“Aw, don’t tell me I’ve finally worn you down,” he drawls, his voice dipping with mock concern. His hand moves, catching the strap of your dress and sliding it back into place with a languid tug. “Resorting to alcohol already? Never thought I’d see the day.”

You snap your head toward him, gathering the last scraps of defiance you have left. He’s leaning casually against the bar, his beige sweater hugging his frame a little too perfectly, the knit fabric stretching taut over his arms. His expression is maddeningly amused, dark eyes glinting with the kind of satisfaction that makes your blood simmer.

“Pretty cocky, aren’t you? Need some liquid courage for our trip, I assume?”

Instead of answering, he reaches forward and swipes your drink. He takes a long sip, his throat bobbing as he swallows. His teeth click against the glass when he sets it down.

“Strong,” he remarks before leaning closer, his voice dropping. “And speaking of the trip, I assume we’ll put on quite the show, hmm? Don’t get me wrong—I hate you. But I hate the idea of Gojo taking either of our jobs even more.”

He nudges your foot with his own, a silent challenge in his raised brow. You hesitate only for a second before extending a hand, your manicured nails catching the dim light.

“Finally, something we can agree on. Look, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep our positions. Yeah, maybe we go overboard sometimes, but we get results. We’re the best.”

“Damn right,” he replies, his smirk sharp and self-assured. His fingers brush yours as he takes your hand, and then he raises it to signal the bartender for another round.

You clear your throat, trying to regain control of the conversation. “It’s just a weekend. We can fake being civil for two days. We’ve never failed to perform before, and we’re not about to start now.”

His hand lands on your shoulder again, his touch oddly grounding. “We always exceed expectations. You always go above; I always go beyond.” He emphasizes the last word with a teasing smirk that makes your jaw tighten.

“Oh yeah? Always?” You lean in, narrowing your eyes. “Bet I can out-drink you. Hell, I already have. I’ve practically forgotten why I was even upset in the first place.”

“Big talk for someone who’s clearly lying.” His grin spreads wider, white teeth gleaming. “But hey, I’m all for proving you wrong. Again.”

The conversation dissolves into a blurry competition. Before you know it, the counter between you is littered with empty glasses. The room spins around you, your skin hot, your head light. 

Somehow, in the midst of it all, your legs have tangled beneath the bar, Getou’s foot hooked possessively around your ankle.

When you glance at him, his bronzed skin is flushed, a pretty pink spreading across his high cheekbones. His hair is loose now, cascading over his broad shoulders in soft, inky waves. His glasses hang from the collar of his sweater, and he reaches out, his finger brushing against your chin.

“You’re spilling,” he murmurs, dragging his finger along your skin to catch a stray drop of liquor. He pulls it back and raises it to his lips, licking it clean with a slow, deliberate motion.

“Playing dirty, huh?” you mutter, your voice thick.

Getou takes the last sip of his drink, his cheeks puffing slightly as he holds the liquid idle in his mouth, and shrugs. The casual gesture makes something snap inside you. Desperate to turn the tables, you grab the collar of his sweater and yank him toward you.

His lips crash into yours, soft yet insistent, and for a fleeting moment, the world shrinks to the warmth of his mouth and the faint bitterness of alcohol lingering on his breath. Your tongue grazes his bottom lip, and he parts for you, letting the sharp tang of liquor transfer between you. A low groan rumbles from his chest as his hands tighten around your waist.

You swallow, leaning into the kiss, your fingers clutching at him as his hand slides up, tangling in your hair. He tilts your head back, deepening the kiss, and a moan escapes your lips before you can hold it back.

His other hand moves lower, pulling you closer until you’re perched halfway on his lap, the warmth of his body pressing against you.

“You might’ve had more to drink than me,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice teasing yet dark with intent. “But I bet I can have you begging for me off a kiss.”

His thigh presses between your legs, and your dress rides up higher than you’d like to admit. You’re soaked, the flimsy fabric of your underwear doing little to shield your dignity—or his slacks—from your arousal.

“Think you’ll have me begging?” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot against your skin. 

“You’re the one falling apart, sweetheart.”

Before you can retort, your phone buzzes on the counter, the vibration cutting through the haze. 

A message lights up the screen.

Gojo Satoru: I just KNOW the hate sex is gonna go hard. Don’t thank me all at once, sweetie ;)

beautiful ass fanart by: _viziiro_ on twt/X

[giuseppe-yuki]

Since franco is quite unhinged and not PR trained, I feel like his girlfriend would be equally as unhinged and unpredictable like an orange cat constantly doing stupid things like climbing on stupid things and doing funny stuff around the paddock and becoming a fan favourite duo of unpredictable and hilarious behaviour - especially in the fan zone

FRANCO’S POOR PR MANAGER!!!!!

picture credits from pinterest :)

franco colapinto x orange cat shapeshifter!reader

“franco,” the disheveled looking woman snaps, a look of pure annoyance on her face. “tell your fucking cat to get down from those spare tires right now!

rolling his eyes, franco stops his laughter from looking at you prancing on tires and beckons you over.

leaping off the tower of rubber tires, you scamper over to his side, butting your head playfully against his leg. you couldn’t understand why you couldn’t have a little fun in the paddock though. it was media day, and those were soooo boring. his pr manager was a total killjoy. and besides, the fans loved you, so wouldn’t that be good for your boyfriend’s public image?

as if proving your point, the fans gathered around the fanzone squeal as you pad next to franco and his disgruntled pr manager.

while he stops momentarily to sign a few pieces of merch, you claw your way up his shoulder. the man getting his merch signed laughs, pointing his camera at your purring figure perched on franco.

“yeah, sorry, she does that sometimes,” you boyfriend remarks, recapping the pen and handing it back to the fan.

you grin at him, flashing your sharp cat canines at the camera. suddenly, an epic thought crosses your mind. what if you did a backflip off of franco’s shoulder and landed on the ground perfectly? that would be kind of cool.

gathering your wits, you leap off of your boyfriend and do two flips in the air before landing gently on your four paws. the fans in the fanzone erupt into cheers.

“ha!” your boyfriend laughs, pointing at you proudly leaping in circles on the ground. “simone biles who? make way for next big olympic gymnast!”

seeing the commotion, franco’s pr manager speeds over. “franco!” she hisses, dragging him away from the crowd. “you can not be saying that! we don’t want a bad public image from you slandering simone biles!”

“slandering???” franco says, in shock. “i was not slandering. i was merely making a comparison between her and my extraordinarily talented cat!��

you meow loudly, as if backing him up.

franco’s pr manager just pinches her nose and groans.

it’s not even ten minutes before you accidentally get yourself into trouble again.

a young fan sits on the sidewalk, talking animatedly to his mother, leaving his lunch open and inviting. hey, if he didn't want it, you’d gladly take it. you were pretty much starving after spending a good part of the day doing media duties with franco.

charging towards the open container, you take a huge bite of the contents, which turns out to be lasagna.

the boy turns around, eyes wide at seeing not only the orange cat eating his food, but also at franco colapinto jogging towards him.

“i-i-is this your cat?” he stutters out, blinking quickly at the sight in front of him, disbelieving.

“er, yes,” franco responds. scooting by the kid, he bends down and grabs you by the scruff of your neck, trying his best to separate you from the container of lasagna that you were trying your best to shove into your mouth at an ungodly speed.

the boy, seeing your actions, laughs. “she’s just like garfield!”

your boyfriend only successfully removes you from the container after you’ve devoured the entire piece of lasagna. “sorry buddy,” he says to the kid sheepishly, with your tomato-sauce covered body dangling from one hand. “i’ll give you a piece of merch to make up for the lasagna.”

still manhandling you with one hand, he uncaps a sharpie with his teeth and scribbles his signature on his own williams-branded jacket. he shrugs it off with a bit of difficulty before dumping it in the kid’s arms. the small fan ecstatically beams at franco, and thanks him profusely.

when your boyfriend squeezes by the crowd of people that were gathered to see the scene play out, he finds his pr manager standing with her arms crossed with a rather disappointed look on her face.

“did you even think before doing whatever that was?” she questions franco, simultaneously glaring at you.

when you give her a hiss of annoyance at reprimanding your boyfriend, she just about snaps.

“yeah, you’re done,” she say irritatedly. “franco, take yourself and your cat back into your driver’s room. you're grounded. both of you are prohibited from coming out for the next hour.”

you giggle inside. that’s a win for you, honestly. an hour with just yourself and franco? sounds like a great time to get into a little more mischief!

[cupcakeinat0r]

Thinkin abt Dad bod! Miguel again…

Relationship weight gain is kinda inevitable when both parties are in absolute love with each other, and Miguel, despite being a total specimen, is no exception to this.

By now, you and Miguel have been dating for quite a bit, and you noticed Miguel getting a lil chunky. Not something you protested. At all. In fact, you were living for it. Yea, Miguel was gorgeous with those rock hard abs and that slutty waist of his that you were beginning to envy, but once his dad bod came in… dayum.

Miguel, however, did feel slightly embarrassed about it all, even though you reminded him everyday that he’s literally the most gorgeous man. Ever. It wasn’t about him, though. He was more concerned about you; that you wouldn’t see him the same way anymore, but you didn’t mind reassuring him a million times that he is all you want and ever need. Plus, it’s a dad bod, literally the best bod, like, c’mon now.

You’d watch him walk around the house with sweatpants on and no shirt, perky pecs (you could’ve sworn he had more titty than you, Jesus Christ), chest hair, pumped arms, fluffy abdomen and a tiny peek of a happy trail that could make your womanhood quiver. All that on full display for you and only you to ogle at. God, he was gorgeous. You, lying in bed, would bite your lip at the piece of work in front of you. Miguel was hunched over on his computer, which he dwarfed with his hands and build, reviewing some lab reports. Your eyes traced along his muscles, some of his stretch marks, and the one or two rolls he had on his side. How can a man look so delicious even while working?

“Whatcha looking at, mama?” He doesn’t look up.

“Oh, nothing… just the most beautiful human being I’ve ever seen.”

He finally looks up from the computer and smiles at you.

“That’s all you, mamita.”

You smile back. You still get butterflies with this man. You reach your arms out.

“C’mere, come to bed. I need my teddy bear.”

He chuckles. “ya mismo, beba, I only have one more left. I’ll be right there.”

You drop your hands in defeat. He says only one more, but you knew it would take him at least like 30 minutes to look over those things. He likes to be real thorough with them. You loved that your man had brains, but sometimes you wish he would just relax once in a while.

An idea flickered in your mind.

“Baby…”

“Yea, mama?” He mumbles, eyes concentrated on his screen.

“…how many kids would you want?”

He immediately perks up. Oh, now you’ve got his undivided attention.

“Kids?” He says, almost a little too excited, “What made you think about that?”

“Ohhh, I dunno… it’s just that you’ve got this dad look goin’ and… it’s been making think, y’know?”

“‘Dad look’?” He says with a humored smile.

“Well yea… I really like it. You’re lookin husky and thick, it’s so… sexy.”

The computer has been officially closed. Your plan is working.

“Oh yea?” His voice becomes lower, more sensual, as he climbs onto bed, his gaze becoming hungry. Miguel towers over you until he settles down on the comforter, nestled up right next to you, his thick thigh draped over both of yours. He rests his burly arm over your stomach, pulling you even closer to his warm body. Now that he lays next to you on the bed, you feel way smaller against him. You loved that.

“Mhm… it’s hard to not picture you with our future kids when you’re walking around here lookin’ like that. I’d make you such a cute daddy.” You coo, your hands brushing against his chest, playing with the hair there, occasionally caressing down to his soft mid-section. “Aw, baby… and I’d make you such a beautiful mommy,” Miguel groans into your neck, placing a kiss there, his hand goes up under his t shirt you’re wearing, caressing circles on your stomach as he imagines a bump there, “fuck, just thinking about you being pregnant makes me hot.“ His hand moves up to grab one of your breasts, giving it a light squeeze, his index finger giving your bud some attention, “and these filled with milk? coño, no puedo esperar.” He moans, his voice strained.

“So how many you want, daddy? Name a number and I’ll give em’ to you.”

Miguel just looks at you dumbfounded. He doesn’t know whether to get emotional or just pin you to the bed and fill you up with his kid to get a head start on this family. He thinks he’ll choose the latter.

“Mamita, I want however many you can give me.” he grabs you by the chin and smashes his lips against yours in a tongue-eating kiss. “Mmgonna look so pretty all swollen for me.” He then placed himself in between your legs, completely caging you in his broad shoulders and arms, his belly brushing up against your stomach. It’s not the only thing you feel, as you also feel his thick hard on when his hips start grinding against your weeping cunt.

“Mi princesita wants to make me a daddy, huh?” He says in a mocking voice. You nod, making a timid noise, aroused by his dominance. You look down to see a wet spot on his sweatpants, his precum seeping through from your little daddy talk no doubt. His mouth sucks and nips at the delicate skin on your neck, your shirt being hastily raised, your now wet panties shortly following the shirt. You’re in for it now. A victorious smirk growing on your face knowing that that last report would be saved for another day.

“Baby, What about your report?”

“It can wait.”

Spoiler alert: He rails you like a dog in heat, cream pies you multiple times, and makes sure none of it goes to waste!!! <3333 u got what u wanted!!! Yay!!!

A/n: He is very gorjus to me, ur honor!!! <33333

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!!

[turcott3]

college girl

matt rempe x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, kissing, mild allusions to smut and FLUFF galore

masterlist

-

“hey um, is it okay if matt comes this weekend?” you ask your roommate as you walk out into your common space as she’s doing her makeup.

“yeah of course. i’ll go stay with someone so you guys can have your space.” she replies, finishing her mascara.

“thank you so much, i love you.” you say hugging her. she knew this was the first time matt was coming to your dorm. you’d finally lifted your beds up high for more room space and you were adjusting well to dorm life.

“i love you too! just remember, use protec-“

“shut up.” you laugh rolling your eyes, a red blush tinting your cheeks. you finally texted him back, confirming he was able to come stay with you, a heart full response from your boyfriend following quickly after. your heart jumped with excitement. he’d be there in two short hours.

“he’ll be here in two-ish hours. please stay and meet him.” you ask your roommate as she walks in.

“yeah of course.” she replies, getting out a bag to pack, you assume to stay at her “boyfriends” dorm. they had no label you just didn’t know what else to call him.

“are you staying with him tonight?”

“yeah he offered.” she giggles.

“these are good strides.” you reply laughing together.

-

“oh my gosh, he’s here, i’ll be right back.” you tell your roommate as you climb down from your bed. quickly, you slip on your shoes and snatch your keys, scrambling like a puppy to get out of your dorm. you hurried down the stairs out to the parking lot, walking quicker once you saw him towering over his car, his bag slung over his shoulder.

“matt!” you shout running to him, running and jumping into his arms.

“hi sweet girl.” he giggles into your hair, holding you up with his free arm. carefully he sets you down, pressing a short kiss to the top of your head.

“i can carry your bag.” you offer and he denies.

“no, i would never make you do that.” he giggles shaking his head.

“but you’re my guest.” you pout as you start walking.

“and you’re my girlfriend. you’re never carrying a single bag of luggage in your life, not while you’re with me.” he says following closely beside you.

“oh whatever.” you joke, his hand intertwining with yours as you made your way back.

“i’m back.” you walk in, calling out to your roommate.

“matt this is y/f/n.” you say as they introduce themselves. it was starting to get a little later in the day by now and your roommate was quick to leave the two of you alone.

“so how long can i stay?” he asks, sitting down in your large bean bag.

“how long do you want to stay?”

“i’d stay forever if i could, but id take up too much space.” he giggles, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering once again.

“you can stay for a few days, i’m not gonna kick you out.” you reply standing in front of him. he reaches out to your hand, pulling you onto his lap.

“i’ll leave on tuesday morning, okay?” he smiles lightly.

“okay.” you reply, grabbing one of his cheeks with one hand and pressing a handful of kisses to the other cheek.

“i’m starving, can we go eat?” you ask sitting up.

“yeah, come on.” he says picking you up and putting you back on the ground, standing up from the bean bag towering over you as he reached for his wallet.

“i’ll drive.” you say cheerfully.

“um no.” he replies.

“matt you just drove your car all the way here.”

“i don’t care.”

“here, drive my car.” you reply handing him your keys.

“thank you my love.” he smirks, placing a light smack on your ass, a giggle leaving your mouth.

truth be told you had no idea how you landed matt. never in a million years did you think you had a shot at him. tall, very tell, muscular, a professional hockey player, gorgeous, sweet, you could go on forever. it truly mystified you how you landed him.

he drives the pair of you to a restaurant, where you order takeout and head quickly back to your dorm. he always loved ordering and paying for your dinners because cherishing you was important to him and he always made it a priority.

you sat together on your floor sharing your meals, catching up on all the drama that had nothing to do with him but he loved to hear anyway.

“so she’s “with” him or?”

“i don’t know! i keep asking her and she won’t tell me straight up.” you giggle on your last mouthful.

“i’m gonna have to start taking notes to keep up.” he laughs shaking his head, dropping his fork in the box and shutting it. it was dark outside at this point and you couldn’t wait to climb into bed with him. not because you were so desperate to get in his pants, but because you couldn't wait to have your sweet boy within arms length when you wake up in the morning.

"okay, movie time." you reply, quickly cleaning the floor of the boxes and flicking on your tv, tossing the remote up. you climb up into your bed and get in a comfortable position.

"okay come on up, be careful." you say to him, you feel his weight shift the bed as he makes his climb.

"ow fuck." matt groans as he hits his head on the ceiling, falling down resting his head on your chest.

"baby, i told you to be careful." you coo, running a soft hand over his hair as he presses a light hand to the spot he hit.

"yeah i just didnt calculate that right." he giggles, his chin resting on your sternum.

"you're not even all the way on the bed my love, come on." you say softly, scratching his back lightly. he shifts out of your arms and to your side, pushing himself slightly underneath you, tucking you comfortably under his arm.

“what’re we watching?” you ask.

“anything because i wasn’t planning on doing a whole lot of watching.” matt says lowly in your ear.

“matthew rempe.” you say smacking him on the chest.

“what?” he says, a panicked look stretching across his face.

“you just got here.” you scoff jokingly.

“i know, i just missed you so much. needed my baby back so bad.” he mumbles, his lips talking against the side of your head.

“i know missed you too matt.” you reply, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, him wanting to deepen it but you denying.

“y/n.” he whines.

“honey, you’re gonna be here for four days, we have plenty of time.” you say softly, brushing his hair out of his face.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know what just came over me. i just love, loving on my girl. but im sorry, i don’t wanna make it seem like that’s all im here for.”

“it’s okay baby you don’t have to apologize, and i know it’s not what you’re here for. we’re young so what can we expect to feel honestly and id be lying if i said i didn’t want to but im really tired and i just want to hold you.” you reply as you continue combing your fingers through his soft locks.

“i can definitely do that.” he smiles lightly, his arms wrapping around your torso as your cheeks burned pink, pressing your cheek to the side of his head.

the two of you laid awake watching tv for a while, small chats here and there, but after a while his breathing became slow and he became borderline silent.

“are you falling asleep on me right now?” you giggle.

“what huh?” he asks sitting up.

“you so are.”

“you’re so comfy.” he smiles, squeezing you a little bit tighter.

“goodnight pretty boy.”

“goodnight baby, i love you so much.” he says leaning up, pecking his lips against yours a few times.

“i love you too.” you reply, your hand finding its way back into his gorgeous head of hair.

you never figured you’d be into the cheesy shit, but you couldn’t help it, he made you more giddy than ever. but god it was so nice drifting off to sleep back in the arms of the boy you so desperately loved.

-

[tojipie]

How does toji feel about halloween in general??

read this and immediately pictured our man leading both his kids up someone’s doorstep like “hey make sure you grab an almond joy for me :/” and “my back hurts >:(“ I LOVE HIMMMSNCHDJS

dilf!toji but there’s passing mentions of him working in an auto shop so maybe mechanic!toji ? who knows. no warnings for this one !

────────────────────────

toji always found halloween a little childish. holidays were a very rare occurrence growing up, so celebrating anything besides a paycheck or his latest divorce didn’t strike a chord in him.

he usually spent the 31st of every october begrudgingly taking his kids around the block for candy he could’ve bought for them himself. he’d stand to the side, still clad in his work clothes as the two of them eagerly held out their candy bags—pillowcases from his bed that he’d grabbed last minute.

sometimes an elderly woman would greet them at the door, eagerly handing his two mini-me’s a box of raisins or a handful of cough drops. he’d quickly usher them off the doorstep with a polite thank you, silencing their whines with a “shhh, i know, i know, just give em’ to me i’ll eat em’ at some point.”

sometimes a guy his age would open the door instead, sharing a knowing look with toji, a little nod of the head even simply to say “yeah, i’d rather be drinking a beer right now too.”

and sometimes—rarely— toji gets the chance to talk his game at a pretty lady. he knows he looks good, even with flecks of motor oil staining the front of his sweatshirt and faded jeans. that much is proven about 0.8 seconds into the interaction when the girl he’s eyeing rushes to put more candy in his kids’ bags, shooting him a bashful smile.

you’re different though, toji knows that as soon as you look up to address him.

“where’s your costume?” you tease, eyeing the older man as you hold a bowl of chocolate out for megumi and tsumuki.

he stands there for a couple of seconds, dumbfounded as you wait for an answer.

“… what?”

“where’s your costume, it’s halloween.”

a fit of giggles erupt from the children in front of you at your inquiry.

toji frowns, then laughs quietly, climbing up the steps to look down at you.

“where’s yours?” he states plainly, cocking his head to the side as his kids bound down your steps and settle in the grass.

“i’m not the one trick-or-treating here.” you state plainly, looking up at him with a confident smile.

toji leans against your doorway, still towering over you with that sleazy grin. “huh, guess you aren’t.” he admits, reaching for his phone with one hand and pulling up the “add new contact” page.

you laugh as he slips the device into your hand, typing your name and number in a bit too eagerly.

“and what was that for?” you ask, feeling the heat from his torso engulf your hand as you slip the phone into his sweatshirt pocket.

toji pushes off of the doorway, “so we can talk about our costumes a little more at my place.”

your knees practically buckle at the invitation, nonchalant facade melting off your body and into the pavement with ever step he takes down your driveway.

the two kids bound over to their father as he makes his way towards them, hugging each of his legs as pats their backs quietly.

“is she gonna be another lady you do kissing with?” megumi asks, balancing his little body atop his father’s impossibly solid work boots.

“hey, quiet.” toji laughs, scooping the younger boy onto his hip and taking tsumiki’s little hand in his.

[suugarbabe]

piggy back || slytherin boys

summary: Enzo’s confidence seems to surge after one to many fire whiskeys and you refuse to take the brunt of it. but mattheo is always down.

an: another little blurb from a yap with my baby @musingsofahufflepuff ; all in good fun

warnings: mentions of alcohol/intoxication, fluff-esque, Enzo and Mattheo being dumbasses

So many stairs. Merlin were they a pain when sober; they were even worse after a drink…or six. You were thankful the party you were leaving was in the Hufflepuff common room because going from the other towers down to the Slytherin dungeons sounded like a nightmare in the state you all were in.

“Cmon, love. Just let me help you,” Enzo stumbled on a few more steps before letting out giggle. You braced yourself against the wall, practically sliding against it with each step you took.

You shook your head, “You’re just as sloshed as me, I think I’ll help myself.”

Enzo grabbed hold of your arm, “Nooo,” he hiccuped between each word, “Let me give you…hiccup…a ride on the Berk train. I’ll get us…hiccup…both back to Slytherin in one go.”

A playful grin graced your lips as you pulled your arm free, “Nuh-uh, I am not risking both our lives for a piggy back ride just to die on the dungeon stairs.”

Enzo’s lips turned down into a slight pout, his lips becoming plush, “You’re mean.” You shook your head with a smile, “I’m not mean, I just still have some working brain cells after all that fire whiskey.”

Mattheo then seemed to appear out of thin air, “Don’t worry Enz, I’ll hop on for a ride.” He then took a drunken running start, launching himself and hopping (barely) off the marble floor and grabbing hold of Enzo’s shoulders to try and wrap his legs around him.

Between the amount of booze he drank and Mattheo’s sudden weight, Enzo’s equilibrium was immediately thrown off. Both boys flying backwards onto the hard ground.

They each let out a chorus of low groans, turning on the floor and rubbing their respective body parts that made direct contact with marble.

You shook your head at them both, “See, I told you…bloody idiots.”

The earlier failure did nothing to dissuade them, Mattheo brushing off his trousers, “Turn round, Berk. Let me saddle up again.”

Enzo turned his back to Matty, bending down slightly and holding his arms out to help steady himself. Mattheo grabbed his shoulders again, climbing carefully this time onto Enzo’s back. The taller boy then hooked his arms under Mattheo’s knees, hoisting him up a little higher.

Mattheo held an arm in the air, pulling it down twice as if yanking a train horn, “Woo! Woo! All aboard the Berk train!”

You shoved them both towards the corridor that led to the dungeons, Enzo stumbling slightly before recovering, “Will you two morons shut it! We’re still out past curfew!”

Mattheo and Enzo both waved you off before the latter came to a complete stop at the top of the dungeon stairs. “Either I’m off my skull of these stairs are crooked,” he pushed Mattheo’s legs from his waist before the curly haired boy slid off his back.”

Enzo shook his head, “I’m sliding down.” He sat himself at the top of the stairs, bracing himself with his hands on either side of him. He then began to scoot himself downwards, step by step.

“Oh fucking bangin’ idea mate,” Mattheo followed suit, sitting down and taking it one step at a time.

You decided to go with your previous method, leaning against the side wall and sliding along it with each step you took.

You passed both boys easily, the wall to your house entrance dissipating as you said the password. You started to walk through and you heard the grunts and shuffled feet of the boys behind you.

“Hold that door! I’m too drunk to remember the password!”

[bookwormjust]

Shelves to height (established relationship with Cassian)

It was a quiet morning in the house, sunlight streaming through the windows as you went about your routine. You’d been looking for your favorite mug, the one Cassian always teased you about because it was so small compared to his, but it was on the highest shelf—way out of your reach. With a quick glance around, you decided to grab a chair to stand on and retrieve it.

Balancing carefully on the chair, you stretched your arm as far as it could go, fingertips just brushing the edge of the mug. You leaned a little farther, determined to get it yourself, when you suddenly heard the heavy thud of footsteps approaching.

“*What are you doing?*” Cassian’s voice boomed from behind you, his tone filled with a mix of panic and exasperation.

You froze, one hand still outstretched, turning your head slowly to see him standing in the doorway, his wings flared out slightly in alarm. His eyes were wide as he took in the sight of you balancing on the chair.

“I was just—” you started to explain, but before you could finish, Cassian was already striding across the room, his large frame moving quickly towards you.

“Get down from there,” he said, his voice firm but filled with concern as he reached for you. “You could fall!”

You couldn’t help but smile at his overprotective nature, but you also knew better than to argue with him when he got like this. “I’m fine, Cass,” you said softly, though you let him help you down from the chair. “I just needed to grab my mug.”

He sighed heavily, his hands steady as he guided you back to the ground. “You don’t need to be climbing things,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly at the chair. “I hate seeing you do that. It’s dangerous.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your amusement. “Dangerous? Cass, I was on a chair, not a cliff.”

Cassian crossed his arms, towering over you, his wings folding tightly against his back as he frowned. “Doesn’t matter. You could’ve slipped or lost your balance. One wrong move, and you’d be on the floor.”

You chuckled, stepping closer to him and resting your hands on his chest. “I’m more graceful than that, you know.”

He huffed but couldn’t hide the small smile creeping onto his face as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his broad chest. “Doesn’t mean I like seeing you up there,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Next time, just ask me to get it for you, alright? I’m taller for a reason.”

You leaned into his warmth, your cheek pressed against his chest as you smiled up at him. “Alright, I’ll leave the climbing to you, Mr. Big-and-Tall.”

Cassian chuckled, his wings relaxing as he held you close. “Good,” he said, his voice softer now. “Because I’d rather keep you safe down here with me.”

You reached up and cupped his cheek, feeling the slight roughness of his skin beneath your fingers. “I’m always safe with you,” you whispered, and he responded by tightening his arms around you, his protective nature always showing in the way he held you close.

With one last glance at the shelves, Cassian easily reached up and grabbed your mug, handing it to you with a playful grin. “Next time, just call me. I’ll be your personal ladder.”

You laughed, taking the mug from him and standing on your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. “Deal,” you said, your heart warm with affection for the Illyrian warrior who would do anything to protect you—even from the dangers of a chair.

[scoonsalicious]

Unbelievable

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: It's your first Girl's Night since you moved out of the Tower to live with Bucky and a game of Never Have I Ever has been suggested. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Language, drinking, mentions of sex, angst.

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: More Pocket x Bucky; enjoy!

“How are things?” Nat asked as she refilled your glass of wine. “Barnes behaving himself? Keeping his dick in his pants?”  It was your first Girl’s Night with her, Wanda, and Pepper since you had moved out of the Tower two months ago, and your friends were desperate for some tea. 

“Nat!” Wanda scolded, before turning to you. “I’m sorry, Pocket– we all agreed we weren’t going to bring up Bucky’s… mistakes. We’re just glad you’re happy. …You are happy, right?”

You smiled at your friend as you grabbed another slice of pizza. You knew they had reservations about you getting back together with Bucky– they’d been by your side for the worst of it, after all, but, for the most part, they’d been supportive of your reconciliation. 

“He’s been wonderful,” you assured them, and pointedly, Nat. “His dick has not been kept in his pants, I have to say, but I confess to not being upset about that in the least.”

Pepper choked a little bit on her wine as she tried to stifle her laugh. “So, the makeup sex is good, then?” she asked with a wry grin.

“The makeup sex was phenomenal,” you corrected her. “And the return to normal sex has been fantastic, too. Not a single complaint from me in that department; just the downstairs neighbor!”

“As long as you’re happy,” Nat said, sitting down next to you once she had refilled everyone’s glass. “That’s all that matters, I guess.”

“I am happy, Natty,” you assured her. “He fucked up. He knows he fucked up, and he did the work to make it right– he’s still doing the work to make it right. That’s more than I could have asked for.”

Nat sighed and put an arm around your shoulder. “I know, honey. It’s just hard for me to forgive him for hurting you as badly as he did, that’s all. Don’t worry– I’ll get over it.”

You gave Nat a side hug. “I appreciate you. And I promise, he ever fucks up like that again, you can help me kill him.”

“Who’re ya killin, sweets?” Bucky asked as he entered the room, Sam, Vision, Tony, and Rhodey trailing close behind, Tony and Rhodey passing a basketball back and forth between the two of them.

“Just you, baby,” you said, giving him your most innocent smile and stretching your head up to meet his as he leaned down to kiss you. “You know, if you ever pull shit like last year on me again.”

“I’ll kill myself before I ever let that happen again,” he assured you. He was dressed in a tight black tank and a pair of basketball shorts, and he looked fucking good. 

“How was basketball?” you asked as he sat down next to you. He opened his arms and you climbed happily into his lap.

“Ugh, come on, Pocket!” Nat grumbled. “Don’t welcome him! It’s Girls’ Night!”

“Too late, Natasha,” Tony said with a grin as he sat down next to Pepper, giving her a kiss on her cheek. “We worked up an appetite playing b-ball downstairs, and you cannot separate a man from his pizza!” He reached across the coffee table and grabbed a slice, and you were grateful you’d decided to order extra pies tonight.

“Don’t say ‘b-ball,’ man,” Sam said as he typed away on his phone. “You don’t have the melanin for it.” He slid down on the floor in front of Nat and reached for a pizza slice of his own. 

“Ew, could you not lean against my legs?” Nat exclaimed as she pulled her feet up and tucked them under her. “You’re all sweaty and you stink.”

Sam turned around to grin at her. “That’s the smell of man, Red. You like?”

“Gross,” Nat said, shaking her head. “Remind me to take you out back and hose you down.”

“Do I stink, doll?” Bucky asked, rubbing his sweaty head into the crook of your shoulder. 

“Yes,” you giggled, ruffling his hair, “but I like it. Very sexy. It makes me want to do very dirty things to you.”

Before Bucky could retort, Tony stood up and exclaimed “Alcohol? Anyone else want alcohol so we can get so drunk we forgot we just heard that? Rhodes, Vis, help me out. Please.”

“You sure love giving him heart palpitations, don’t you?” Pepper asked with a smile as Tony, Vision, and Rhodey headed to the bar in the back of the common room, where you assumed they would retrieve some adult beverages.

“Come on, Pep,” you teased as you wrapped Bucky’s arms around your waist, “you and I both know that, for that to happen, Tony Stark would need to have a heart in the first place.”

Those of you still sitting around the coffee table shared a laugh at Tony’s expense, but were cut short when the doors to the common room flung open and Thor and Bruce walked in. 

“Ah, so this is where the party is!” Thor exclaimed, raising a jug that you knew must house some Asgardian liquor in it. “Pocket, Barnes! So good to see you! Barnes, I trust you will join me in a little Asgardian indulgence?”

Bucky looked at you, as though checking to see if you would be alright with him drinking. “Don’t look at me,” you said, laughing. “You’re a big boy, more than old enough to decide if you want to get drunk or not. Besides, I’m not your mom.”

“Thank God for that,” Bucky said, kissing your neck. “I’d have a whole new set of issues to discuss with Raynor. Yeah, Odinson, I’ll take a glass; thanks.” 

“Excellent!” the god exclaimed. “Stark! Fetch tumblers for myself and the metal man! Tonight, we drink like kings!”

A few of the guys cheered, and you took the opportunity to lean into Bucky’s ear. “You’re super cute when you’re drunk, anyway,” you told him. “You always want to tell me all your secrets.”

Bucky grinned and squeezed you just a bit. “I don’t have any more secrets from you, doll,” he teased. 

Tony, Rhodey, and Vision returned then, carrying six packs of ice cold beer from the fridge, along with glasses and bottles of liquor from the bar. Tony handed tumblers to Bucky and Thor, who made quick work of pouring healthy servings for the both of them.

“Malibu and pineapple for the Kiddo,” Tony said, handing you a large glass of your favorite mixed drink.

“Thanks, Boss,” you said, happily taking the glass and giving it an experimental sip. “Mmm, delicious! You always get the ratio just right.”

Tony winked at you as he sat down and popped open a beer. “I know my girls,” he said with a grin before handing Pepper a fresh bottle of wine. “And the Bordeaux for my lady love,” he said, to Pepper’s delight.

You noticed curiously that Bruce had sat himself down as far away from Nat as possible, and you wondered if the two were off again. You tried to catch her eye to silently inquire, but she was engrossed with something Wanda and Vision were saying, and not paying you any attention. 

“We should absolutely play a drinking game!” Sam exclaimed to no one in particular. When all eyes turned to him, he elaborated: “Come on! When was the last time we were all together to just have fun?”

“Um, probably when you all showed up at the apartment with Cards Against Humanity to cockblock me and Bucky on our first night there,” you offered with a teasing grin. 

Sam shot you a Look. “Never gonna let me live that foot-in-mouth moment down, are ya, Baby Girl?” he asked.

“Not ever,” you agreed. “I cried that night, Dark Chocolate!” 

“And I felt really bad about it!” he protested. “You gotta let bygones be bygones.”

“Fine, fine,” you conceded with a laugh, not wanting him to feel worse for it than you knew he already did when it wasn’t his fault you still had unresolved trauma. “What game did you have in mind?”

Sam made a thoughtful face, but before he could, the common room door opened again and Steve walked in. When he saw you and Bucky sitting together, he stopped in his tracks, face falling ashen.

“Um…” he began, clearly uncomfortable, “Sam said there was pizza, but I didn’t realize you two… if you’re… I don’t have to… I can leave.”

You sighed and stole a glance at Bucky, each silently seeking out the other’s opinion. You shrugged slightly, as if to say I’d rather not make this awkward. Bucky nodded at you before turning back to Steve.

“Stay, Rogers,” he said, though there was no warmth in his voice. “This is your home; Pocket and I are just visiting. We’re not gonna put you out. I think we can all be civilized for an evening.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Steve said before sitting down next to Nat and grabbing a slice of pizza. The room was filled with awkward silence until Thor stood up. 

“Let me get you a drink, Rogers!” he bellowed as he walked over to the bar to grab another tumbler and fill it with Asgardian liquor. “Tonight, we drink like kings!”

Steve took the cup gratefully, as though happy to have something to focus on other than the company in the room.

“Never Have I Ever!” Nat shouted in her attempt to break the tension. Everyone turned to stare at her. “That’s what we should play,” she said. 

“Wanna run through the rules for the elderly, non-Earthlings, and non-humans among us?” Tony asked.

“Right,” said Nat, taking a sip of her beer. “One person starts by saying ‘Never Have I Ever,’ then you say something you’ve never done before. If you haven’t done that thing, you do nothing, but if you have,” her smile turned sharp, “you take a drink. And then someone else goes.”

“And what’re the parameters for winning?” Vision asked. He had his index fingers pointed together, resting against his lips, as if he were taking the entire thing very seriously.

“Everyone gets drunk, and then everyone wins?” you offered, what you thought was hopefully. 

“Basically,” Nat agreed. “You just learn more about your friends and have a good time,” she added. “It’s not really about winning.”

Vis nodded as if this was revelatory information for him. “I see,” he said with all seriousness. “This sounds like it will be fun!”

“Alright, I’ll go first with an easy one,” Nat said, picking up her beer bottle. “Never have I ever… been able to fly on command.”

Immediately, Tony, Rhodey, Sam, Wanda, Vision, and Thor all took a drink. 

“Pep!” you chastised. “You’ve absolutely worn an Iron Man suit and flow before! Drink up!”

“You know, I completely forgot about that?” she said with a laugh as she drank. “Okay, I’ll go next. Never have ever… punched Tony Stark.” 

The room broke out into groans as each one of you, save Pepper and Tony, himself, drank to that. “Wow,” said Tony as he looked around the room. “I’ve never felt more like a victim than I do at this moment.”

“Tell me you haven’t deserved each and every one of them,” Rhodey teased.

“Yeah, fair. That’s totally fair,” he conceded. “My turn. Never have I ever been poor.” This time, everyone but Tony, Thor, and Vision drank. 

“I have no use for currency,” Vision clarified when Wanda looked at him. “And as such, I have no concept of poverty or wealth, beyond the value I place in you, my dear, and for that, I am most wealthy.”

Everyone made gagging noises at that.

The game continued on, with questions both bland (“Never have I ever been arrested;” though most of you drank) and ridiculous (“Never have I ever fallen off the giant horse Goldfaxi.” “Well obviously, Point Break, none of us have either, because we’ve never been to Asgard.”) and soon you were all, at the very least, pleasantly tipsy. Bucky, in particular, having crossed the line over to drunk several drinks ago. Living as long as he had, he’d done a lot of shit.

“Okay, okay,” Bucky said, stuttering his words a little, which you found adorable, “Never have I ever… made out with more than one person on this team!” He grinned while Nat and Steve took a drink, but frowned when he saw you raise your glass to your lips. Had he forgotten about your… mistake with Steve after your birthday party? God, you wish you could have.

“Well,” said Tony with a cough, not recognizing the dark territory the game was delving into, “Never have I ever made out with more than two people on this team.”

You felt your shoulders sag; this was not going to help you, at all. Bucky watched in disbelief as you took another drink.”

“Seriously?” Tony exclaimed. “Under my very nose?”

“What the fuck, Pocket?” Bucky asked you, no levity in his voice. 

“Nat drank, too,” Steve said, as though that made things perfectly okay.

“No one fucking asked you, Rogers,” Bucky spat back at him, then turned back to you. “Who else have you made out with, Pocket?”

You sighed. You really didn’t want to have this conversation, let alone when Bucky was drunk and in front of all of your friends, but you knew he wouldn’t be able to let it go. “You already know about my birthday,” you told him softly, wishing you were both somewhere else, alone. 

“We made out at a Stark party once,” Nat blurted out. She offered you an apologetic look, but you were grateful to her for not making you say it. 

Every head in the room snapped to look back and forth between you and the assassin. There were surprised shouts of ‘What?’ ‘When?’ ‘How long?’ ‘With tongue?’ and ‘Under my own roof?’ (that one came from Tony). Looks like you were going to have to speak to it, afterall.

“It was years ago,” you clarified, addressing Bucky, and Bucky alone. He was the only one you owed any sort of explanation to, after all. “Nat was working undercover for Fury, kinda… I dunno, would you call it ‘spying,’ Natty?” Your friend shrugged. “Spying on Tony for him, to evaluate him for the Avengers Initiative. She was his assistant. There was a party, we were drunk, and we were both just kind of like ‘You’re hot, I’m hot, should we kiss?’” You looked at your boyfriend, trying to discern what he was thinking. “It just happened the one time. Afterwards, we laughed about it, because we both realized it was stupid, and we decided to become best friends.”

Bucky looked to Nat, as though daring her to contradict you. “That’s all, Barnes, honestly,” she said.

“So, that’s it?” he asked you. “You just kissed Nat the one time, and Steve the one time? No one else?”

“Well,” you said, drawing the word out. Fuck, he was not going to like this, not one bit, but you weren’t going to lie to him.

“Who else, Pocket?” he spat out, standing up abruptly and practically dumping you to the floor in the process.

“Can we please have this conversation somewhere private,” you asked him, standing up, but he just looked at you, arms crossed. “Okay,” you said, “first of all, it was just one time, and it honestly didn’t mean anything, but it wasn’t just a make out…”

“Jesus Christ,” he exclaimed, “You fucked someone else on the team?!”

You gnawed on your lip. You would have told him, one day. You really would have, but you’d honestly never had had the body count conversation before. But you didn’t want it coming out like this. Your eyes subconsciously found Thor’s, and that was all the information Bucky needed to put the pieces together.

“THOR?” he bellowed, the sound making you flinch. “You fucked THOR?!” Around you, your friends gasped. Not even Nat knew about you and the God of Thunder.

“Watch your tone, Barnes!” Thor said, standing up to come to your defense. “The night of love making Lady Pocket and I shared was beautiful, and I will not let you speak to her this way!” Oh, that was not going to help things, Thor, you beautiful idiot!

The room was perfectly still, as if everyone was holding their breath, afraid that breathing would break the delicate balance that was holding your reality in place. Tony’s eyes were wide with shock, while Pepper, Nat, and Wanda gave you subtle looks of surprise and respect.

“Bucky,” you said, trying to diffuse the situation, “seriously, can we talk about this… just you and I? Please?”

“Why?” he asked, glaring at you. “Gotta anymore surprise lovers you want to spring on me?”

“Barnes, that’s enough!” Tony said, standing up now. “You’re drunk, and you’re not thinking straight. You’re not going to talk to Pocket like this.”

“It’s fine, Tony,” you said, putting a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. “I get why he’s mad. I should have told him.”

“You think?” Bucky spat. “Lemme guess– next you’re gonna tell me you actually did fuck Stark for your education!”

He may as well have slapped you with that accusation, his words forcefully taking you aback. “That’s enough, Barnes!” you said, your voice sharp now. You’d had quite enough. “You know what? Sleep here tonight. Don’t come back home until you get your head out of your ass.” 

You stood up and collected your bag. “Thanks for the time, guys,” you said before you stepped out, leaving the room in silence behind you.

“Fuck this!” you heard Bucky shout, and the sound of the common room’s other door slamming behind him as he stormed away. You shook your head as you punched the elevator button repeatedly. You could not believe he had the audacity to be mad at you over something that had happened before you had ever even met. How dare he? After everything he’d done? Everything you’d worked so hard to get over?

“Pocket?” You closed your eyes and sighed at the sound of Steve calling your name. Great. You weren’t in the mood for him to start questioning you on why you’d deemed to sleep with Thor but not him. You really didn’t have the mental resolve for that.

“What do you want, Steve?” you asked, resigned to just get the conversation over with. All you wanted right now was to get into your bed and cry yourself to sleep. 

“Don’t be too hard on him,” Steve said, much to your surprise. You turned to face him. He stood a more than respectable distance away from you, hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets as he looked down at his shoes, as though unable to meet your eye. “I’m not saying what he said was okay, because it’s not, but you know how inadequate he feels when it comes to you. He’s never thought he deserves you, and it’s like he can’t help but latch on to anything that he thinks proves that.”

“That doesn’t give him the right to talk to me like that, Steve,” you said, rubbing at the space between your eyes. You felt a headache coming on, for sure. “I don’t deserve to be slutshamed for things that happened before I ever even met him.”

“I know that,” Steve said, taking his hands out of his pockets and raising them as if in surrender. “And I know that Bucky knows it, too.”

“Why are you telling me this, Steve?” you asked him. After all the work Steve had done last year to try and get you and Bucky to break up, it was almost bordering on suspicious that he’d be speaking in favor of his former friend now.

Steve ran a hand through his hair. “Because you two are real,” he said with a simple shrug of his shoulders. “What you have, that’s real, and it’s rare. I get it now. I’m sorry I ever thought I had the right to decide whether or not it wasn’t.”

You swallowed and nodded at him. You appreciated his words, though you weren’t sure if it was enough to forgive him for everything he’d done. “I’ll take your advice under consideration” was all you said to him instead before you got into the elevator and let the doors close behind you.

*

Sleep proved to be elusive that night. Despite crying to near exhaustion, you found yourself tossing and turning, unable to find rest and knowing that it was from the lack of the warm, familiar body that should be curled up by your side. Your brain had gone into overdrive at imagining worst-case scenarios of what Bucky might be getting up to when he was drunk and so angry at you, and you were trying very hard not to remember what he’d done the last time he thought you’d betrayed him.

A soft chime got your attention, and you picked up your phone. Bucky had texted you, and you held your breath, wondering what more vitriol he was going to spew at you.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: Can I come home? Magic Dick🍆🦾: Please?

You blinked in surprise at your screen. That was not what you had been expecting.

>> Of course you can. It’s still your home, too. >> But as for whether or not you’ll be welcome back in bed… >> Depends on whether or not you got your head out of your ass.

Despite what you’d told him earlier, you’d never actually deny him entrance to your apartment. Not unless you’d ended things with him for good, and you’d fought too long and too hard to be together for that to happen over something like this.

You stared at your phone screen, waiting to see if he would respond, but the text thread remained inactive. You wondered where he was, and what kind of shape he was in. Where he had been, what he had done. Who he had done it with.

“Hey.” Though his voice was soft, its unexpectedness startled you. There he was, standing in the doorway of your bedroom, leaning against the frame, barely illuminated from the ambient light of the city outside. 

“Jesus Christ, Barnes!” you exclaimed, clutching at your chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack! How’d you even get here so fast?”

“Been sitting in the hall for the last two hours,” he admitted sheepishly. “Working up the courage to ask if I could come back home. Think the only reason I was brave enough to text you was ‘cause I convinced myself you had to be sleepin’ by now. Planned on just spendin’ the night out there.” He offered you a soft half smile before his face turned serious. “I’m so sorry, doll. Ya gotta know, the things I said…”

“Were really uncalled for, Bucky,” you interjected. He visibly flinched before you.

“I know,” he admitted, his voice so low you had to strain to hear it. “I had no right judgin’ you for things that happened ‘fore we ever even met. ‘Specially not after everything I did. It took me by surprise ‘n my ego got bruised. No man’s gonna like hearin’ the love of his life slept with a literal fuckin’ god, but I took it too far, and I’m sorry.”

At hearing him refer to  you as “the love of his life,” your heart warmed in your chest, and you pulled back the blanket and sheets on his side of the bed, silently inviting him in to join you. You very well couldn’t hold his continued insecurities against him when you had just been worried he was off with someone else. It was a process, you reminded yourself.

Bucky looked at you, eyes wide. “You sure, sweets?” he asked hesitantly. 

You nodded at him. “We need to talk,” you told him, “and I’d rather do it with you here next to me than with you all the way over there.”

Bucky swallowed and slowly made his way over to the bed and got ready to climb in… fully clothed.

“Gonna sleep with your clothes on, Barnes?” you asked, raising a brow. 

You could barely make out the flush that came to his cheeks in the low light. “I didn’t wanna just assume…” he began.

“Get undressed and get your ass in bed,” you told him. You watched as he slowly stripped down to his boxer briefs, folding his discarded clothes and putting them in the hamper, always the regimented soldier, before crawling under the covers next to you.

Once he was settled on his back, you curled up against him, your head on his chest and your leg hooked over his torso. You could feel him physically relax into your touch as he wrapped his flesh arm around your shoulders, and you knew he’d been terrified that you wouldn’t let him be close to you after what he’d said.

“So, you and Thor, huh?” he asked, voice strained, and you knew he was doing everything in his power to keep his emotions steady.

“Are you sure that’s something you want to hear about?” you asked him guardedly. You certainly appreciated his willingness to discuss it, but you didn’t want to cause him any additional pain… or cause him to freak out on you again. 

“I think I have to,” he answered. “If I don’t, I’ll just keep on imagining it, and that’ll be worse for me.”

“Fair enough,” you agreed. “But before we get into it, tell me where you’ve been tonight.”

He looked down at you, understanding drawing on his face. “I went down to the gym,” he began. “Punched the bag for a little while, tryn’a get the anger out, but then I started feeling gross from that Asgardian shit, so I went up to my old room and crashed for a couple hours. Woke up with a splitting headache and a hell of a lot of remorse, so I came home and just hung out in the hallway, working up the courage to text you.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, feeling a sense of relief that he hadn’t felt the need to revisit old bad habits. He could have been lying to you, of course, but he knew that you could check the security feed at the Tower to verify his story if you didn’t trust him. Truth was though, you did trust him. 

“Okay,” you began, snuggling further into him. “I won’t lie and pretend like I never thought Thor was hot.”

You felt the laughter rumble through Bucky’s chest. “Yeah, you never made a secret of that,” he said, and it was a relief to hear.

“Yeah, well, it’s an objective fact. That can’t be helped. Anyway, his girlfriend, Jane, had just dumped him. He was devastated. He tried to pretend that he wasn’t phased by it, like it was a mutual decision, but everyone could see he was heartbroken. I guess Tony and Clint convinced him that the best way to get over her was to have some rebound sex with someone else. Granted, I highly doubt Tony ever thought Thor would consider asking me, but I was really the only other single Earth girl he knew at the time. 

“So, one night, after we’d all had a couple of drinks, he just… asked. He was upfront about his reasons, never implied that it would be more than what it was. And I hadn’t been with anyone in a while, and I thought he was good looking, and he was just so sad, I figured ‘what’s the harm in it?’ 

You sighed, thinking back on the night in question. Thor had been a gentle, attentive lover, though you didn’t think Bucky needed to necessarily know that, but there had been no spark of connection, no need. Nothing like what you felt when you were with the man before you.

“Afterwards, he thanked me for helping him get through a tough time, and we left it at that. Never spoke about it again until tonight.”

“He said it was ‘beautiful,’ though,” Bucky said, and you were proud of him for keeping his tone light, when you knew this must be difficult for him.

You chewed on your lip, trying to come up with the right words to express what had happened that night. “It was beautiful in the way that sad things are beautiful,” you told him eventually. “Neither one of us were in great places. He was dealing with losing Jane, and I had just found out that Darren had died in prison.” You could feel Bucky’s questioning stare, so you clarified. “I was thrilled he was dead, don’t get me wrong; it’s just that the news brought up a bunch of old memories I didn’t really want to deal with. Here was this kind, handsome man that wanted to sleep with me, and that felt like a salve. It made me feel like more than what Darren had made me. We were two people who were hurting and found some solace in each other for a little while.”

The hand that was wrapped around your shoulders tightened as Bucky pulled you closer. “I’m so sorry I overreacted,” he said before kissing the crown of your head. “I know we’ve talked about it. I’m scared there’s always going to be a part of me that’s terrified you’re gonna realize you’re too good for me and leave me.”

“That’s never going to happen, Buck,” you assured him. “I’m with you because I want to be with you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have fought so hard to make this work.”

“I know, doll,” he said. “The part of me that’s Bucky, that’s a man, he knows that. But… the part of me that’s always gonna be the Soldier, the monster, that’s the part that needs convincing. I see guys like Thor, Steve, hell, even Stark– these guys that are just good, heroes, who don’t come with lifetimes of baggage and trauma, and I think ‘that’s the kinda man she’s supposed to be with, not a used up sad excuse of whatever’s left of me.’

You felt your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. “You know I hate it when you talk about yourself like that,” you told him.

He chuckled derisively. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Doesn’t stop me from feelin’ it, though.”

“I wish it would,” you sighed. “You’re everything. All I want is for you to see that.”

“Maybe someday,” he said quietly into the dark of the room. “Maybe someday.”

You wished there was something you could say to convince him. To get him to see himself the way you saw him everyday, but that was a battle you weren’t going to win tonight. You did know of something that would probably cheer him up, though.

“Hey,” you said, turning your head and resting your chin on his pectoral so you could look up at him. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re bigger than Thor.”

Bucky snorted a laugh. “Whaddaya talkin’ ‘bout, sweets? The man’s huge. His muscles have muscles, for fucks’ sake!”

“No, baby,” you said, carefully moving your leg so that it rubbed pointedly against his groin. “I mean you’re bigger.”

Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise. “That so?” he asked, his voice gone suddenly husky. 

You nodded. “Yup,” you said, popping your ‘p’. “Longer and thicker. He could never make me feel as good as you do, Buck. No one could. I don’t ever want anyone else to even try.”

Bucky’s smile turned predatory, and you knew you weren’t going to get much sleep tonight. 

[latenightdaydreams]

heyyy so um can I request a massage therapist könig and an innocent reader who is just looking for some relaxation but könig like the perv he is can't keep his hands off the pretty little thing ?:> BTW I love ur writing <33

Yes! Thank you!💖

Relaxation Time (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, groping, perverted König

1.7k word count

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You’ve always lived a very sheltered life in a small community. This last year has been incredibly stressful for you. In one year, you left your high school sweetheart, left your dead-end job, and moved into your own place for the first time in your life.

A friend gave you a certificate for a full body massage at one of the well-known spas in Vienna. You walk in and see a beautiful bronze-skinned woman with warm honey brown eyes sitting at the desk. She gives you a welcoming smile as you walk up to her.

“Hi, I’m here for an appointment with König.”

“Okay, you can take a seat and he will be right out.”

“Thank you.” You turn and sit on one of the simple gray chairs in the waiting area. There is light relaxing music playing with plants surrounding you. You grab a magazine on the table next to you, flipping through to kill time.

“Y/n?” A giant pale man with a few scars scattered across his face walks out. His head almost reaches the low ceilings as his pale blue eyes meet yours.

“Hi, that’s me.” You stand quickly and adjust your shirt as you do.

“I’m König. Is it your first time at our spa?” He asks, looking down at you as he towers above you.

“Yes, it is. My first time getting any spa treatment.” You admit bashfully.

“Well, I hope it will be a great experience.” He smirks.

König looks down at your body as he speaks, spinning on his heels, and walks down a narrow hallway. To your left is a glass wall that faces the garden area of the spa. On your right is a row of light-colored wooden doors with numbers on them. He opens door number 7 and steps aside.

You walk inside and see a luxurious white massage table in the middle of the room. The room smells like lavender and is lit by a skylight, making the room feel peaceful. As he steps into the room, the door closes behind him. He walks over to the massage table and speaks.

“Remove all layers of clothing and place them in the basket on the table behind you. Once nude, lay down on your stomach, and cover yourself with this blanket. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He turns to leave the room.

Once alone, you undress, neatly folding all of your clothes and putting them in the basket. You climb on to the table, grabbing the blanket and laying down on your stomach. A few minutes pass before there’s a knock on the door and König walks back in. You listen to his heavy footsteps as he walks past you to get what he needs from the cabinets.

As König passes you, his eyes drift down your form as the thin blanket clings to you. He walks and grabs the oil he will use to massage you before walking back to the table.

“I’m going to move the blanket down more.” He says as he grabs the blanket from your middle back and folds it over, making it so the blanket only covers your rear.

König rubs oil over his hands as he looks down at your small body. His large hands make contact with your warm skin. You jump slightly and it makes him smirk. “Sorry.” His voice is low and gentle.

“It’s okay.” You chuckle nervously, slightly embarrassed that you jumped at his touch.

“Just relax. I’ll take care of you.” He whispers.

His large hands rub up and down your back, applying a gentle pressure as he goes. He lets his hands rub down your sides, fingers grazing the side of your breasts, lingering there for a moment before moving on. You don’t react and he takes note of that as he continues.

König moves his hands to your legs. He starts at your feet, before slowly creeping his hands up your legs; getting them covered in a light sheen of oil makes your skin shin so temptingly under the natural light. He takes his time slowly feeling the softness of your calves, his eyes firmly fixed on your ass. The confidence he gets knowing you can’t see him leads him to bend over slightly to see your ass. He sees your ass and a little of your hairy pussy.

 Finally, as he reaches your thighs, he begins to squeeze slightly harder as he massages them. In no rush, he lets his hands map out your thighs. They glide further up to where he was almost touching your ass. The temptation was too much.

“You feel so tense.” He groans.

“It’s been a long year.”

“You need to do this for yourself more. It’s not healthy to let yourself get so tense.” Really, he just wants you to come back to see him again.

His hands slide up your thighs until he cups your ass cheeks, pushing the blanket up to your lower back. He takes his time making sure to rub every inch of you, gliding his hands to your hips and grasps you, shaking your hips as he watches your ass bounce side to side. What a beautiful sight you are.

You look down at the floor, feeling a flood of anxiety coming over you. It’s your first massage and you’ve seen all types of crazy techniques on TikTok, so you try to ignore this. All you can feel are his large hands grabbing your ass before he removes his hand.

“You can turn over.” He steps back.

König doesn’t turn around or look away as you turn around. He watches as you grab the blanket trying to unfold it to cover your breasts, but you just move it up and slightly expose your pretty little pussy. He smiles and walks closer to you.

“Nein, don’t cover your chest.” He grabs the blanket and pulls it off of your chest, folding it neatly over your lower half.

“Oh, sorry.”

“No need to apologize so much, Liebling.”

König walks back to the cabinets on the wall to grab the oil. This time instead of pouring some of it onto his hand, he brings the bottle to you and pours it over your stomach. Your abdomen instinctively tightens once the warm oil hits your skin. He chuckles watching you, his eyes roaming over your body but focusing on your breasts.

He rubs the warm oil into your skin, spreading it around over your stomach and down towards your hips before gliding back up, grasping your sides. Once his hands reach your breasts, he cups underneath them, watching them before his eyes lock with yours. The look in his eyes is one he can’t hide. He’s hungry for you. He moves his hands over your breasts, grazing over your nipples with the palm of his hand. Your nipples instantly harden from his touch.

You look from his eyes to the skylight, feeling a strong tension in the air. You’re trying your best to ignore the feelings in your stomach telling you that he shouldn’t be taking all these extra liberties. Yet, you just lay there trying to rationalize it all.

“Are you doing okay, Liebling?” König notices the look on your face, yet you haven’t stopped him.

“Yeah, I am.”

König walks around the table, standing over your head. His hands massage your shoulders, fingers digging into your tense muscles. The massage does genuinely feel amazing, his large hands to thank for that. Then, he turns his attention back to over your breasts, squeezing them in his hands, and running his thumbs over your nipples.

A wave of pleasure travels through your body, causing you to close your eyes. He twirls your nipples between his fingers and tugs slightly. Your fingers fan out at your sides as you let out a shaky breath.

He moves his hands down your stomach, eyes meeting yours as he slowly rubs his hands across your mound before moving to your hips and back up your sides. König walks away to grab more oil. Opening your eyes, you continue to look up at the sky light. Clear skies now. For a moment, things felt peaceful.

His large hands oil up your legs, moving your feet in different directions to stretch the muscle. While doing this, he pulls your leg to the side slightly to catch another glimpse of you. The massage felt so amazing you don’t realize as his hands move up your thighs.

Both of his hands move to one thigh, his touches have become more sensual than to work knots out. Goosebumps appear along your skin.

“Still doing okay, Liebling?”

“Uh, yeah.”

König keeps his eyes locked on to your face as he moves his hand up along your inner thigh. The feeling of your pubic hair tickles König’s fingers. He’s so close to the thing he wants to touch the most. You haven’t stopped him so far, so why would you now? He turns his attention to your other thigh, giving it the same treatment.

In a bold move, he allows his fingers to swipe against your folds. Your eyes shoot down the table and look at him. König doesn’t move his hand, continuing to rub against your clit. Just like he expected, you didn’t stop him.

His eyes fall to your breasts as he continues, feeling how wet you get from just a few small touches. You’re stunned. Other than your ex, you’ve never been touched there by another man. His hand moves against your cunt so perfectly, you instantly get turned on.

Fuck I want her… He thinks to himself as hesitantly pulls his hands off of your body.

“We are done.” König turns to wash his hands in the sink. He turns on the water, looking down at his hand feeling desperate to know what you smell like. He lifts his fingers to his nose and takes a deep inhale. You smell…divine.

König turns to you while drying off. “You can get dressed. It was wonderful meeting you, y/n. Truly.”

“Thank you. It was nice meeting you too.”

Once dressed, you leave the room. You walk down the same hallway to the exit. The woman behind the desk smiles at you.

“I hope you enjoyed your session!”

“I did…” You linger for a second before walking to her. “May I book another appointment with him? Full body.”

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hiii <3 I was wondering if u could do a smut of Luke where the reader is lorelais daughter (reader is 18 ofc) but Luke is still with Lorelai (so like a cheating, quickie, sorta thing) hopefully that makes senseee i need more Luke stuff ugh he's so sexy

hi! he is🤭

summary - your mums boyfriend is so hot, it’s unfair that only she gets to have him.

warning - smut, cheating, creampie, dirty talk, slut used.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn’t mine, divider by @newlips.

Your lip curls as you watch Luke with your mum. Why did he have to be so hot? And so sweet? Couldn’t he be one or the other? Why both? You shovel some food into your mouth, hoping that it hides the look on your face. You loved your mum but you wanted her boyfriend.

Luke seemed oblivious to your attempts, no matter how many times you had worn short, tight clothes or bent over in front of him while wearing a mini skirt or brushed up against him or made sexual remarks. He never seemed to flinch, like it went over his head.

You were growing frustrated, there weren’t as many hot older men in Stars Hollow and you didn’t want to waste your time with the younger ones. Maybe you could drive out of town and find someone to hook up with, anyone to make these feelings go away.

When your mum and Luke went upstairs, bidding their goodnights to you and Rory. You rushed to your room, slipping into a tiny tight black dress, ruffling up your hair, swiping some red lipstick across your lips, spritzing your favourite perfume all over before grabbing your favourite pair of black heels and rushing out of the room, your sister watching you with raised brows.

“Please don’t say anything!” You whisper, pouting at her hoping that she’ll stay quiet.

“Just be careful, I’ll leave the key under the turtle.” She goes back to her book and you smile, quickly kissing the top of her head before rushing out of the house and hoping into your car.

You were disappointed and sexually frustrated. There were literally no men that you wanted here, sure. You had seen some attractive ones but whenever you’d think about doing anything with them. Your mind went back to Luke and it ruined it for you. Just like your sister had promised, you grabbed the key from under the turtle and quietly opened the front door, hoping to sneak in without being caught.

You let out a sigh as you tiptoed through the dark house, heels in hand. You made it to your room, entering and closing the door behind you. You drop your heels and strip from your dress before heading over and turning the lamp on, light coating the room and revealing Luke sitting in a chair in the corner, arms crossed and lips pursed.

“What the shit?!” You jump, trying to cover yourself, thighs pressing together as you feel your knickers become damp. “Why are you in my room?!”

“Where were you?” Fuck he looked and sounded so good, you felt so exposed… Well, you were in just your knickers.

“The bathroom…”

Luke raises a brow. “Really? Because I checked the whole house and not once did I see you.” He stands, towering over you. “Now, where were you?”

“You’re not my dad. I don’t have to tell you anything.”

Luke smirks. “….That’s right, I’m not.” He stalks closer to you, backing you into your bed causing you to fall. He climbs on top of you, trapping you underneath his large body. “Which means I can do this.”

“Do wha—.” You moan before it’s muffled by his hand, his other playing with your clothed clit.

“Don’t act like you don’t want this, you little slut. I’m not blind or deaf to you trying to gain my attention.” Luke rips your knickers from your body, groaning as he finds you already dripping, he quickly whips his cock from his boxers. “Such a slut for your mums boyfriend? You do this with all of them or just me?”

You whimper, not being able to reply because his hand presses against your mouth harder. Your eyes roll back when he slides deep inside of you. “So fucking tight for me, guess you didn’t find someone to get you off, huh?” You shake your head.

Luke grunts beside your ear, “this ain’t going to be slow and sweet, I’m going to fuck you so hard and then go back to sleep next to your mother.” You clench around him, his free hand gripping your hip as he begins to pound into you, hitting all the right spots.

Your eyes connect and you wrap your legs around him, making him go deeper. Luke fucks into you harder and faster, causing you to see stars. Your hands grip at his back, not caring if you leave marks and it only seems to spur Luke on.

He changes the angle slightly and your back arches, happy that he’s covering your mouth because you felt a scream bubble in your throat. Your walls tighten and clench around him as your orgasm washes over you and your arousal squirts out, coating his dick and lower half.

“Good girl.” Luke continues to thrust before burying himself deeper and letting go, hot cum shooting out of him and painting your tight walls white. “Fuck.” You whimper as he pulls out, delivering a harsh slap to your puffy clit before tucking himself back into his boxers and walks out, not sparing you a single glance.

You lie there with a dazed smile, all fucked out and tingly.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[theemporium]

Remus x Slytherin!Reader?

“You’re short enough to have to go onto your tippy toes to kiss me.” “I’m short enough to elbow you directly in the gut, with ease.”

kinda in love with this dynamic🤠thank you for requesting!🖤

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“Need help with that, love?”

“I’ll give you a chance to keep your mouth shut, Lupin.”

“Now, sweetheart, that’s no way to talk when someone is offering you help.” 

You scared people. There was no way of beating around the bush or sugar-coating the simple fact that you terrified people. It wasn’t that you went out of your way to seem so tempestuous or feisty, it was simply the way you were and you didn’t hide it. 

Add in the fact the tie colour you wore was green and silver, and the fact you made your opinions very clear when you disagreed with somebody, you weren’t the most approachable person at Hogwarts. 

So, you could imagine the shock of the students and professors alike when they found Remus Lupin—one of the beloved marauders and charming souls in the school—seated beside you at breakfast one morning, arm thrown over your shoulder as you let him feed you pieces of fruit as you read. 

You were an unusual couple to most people but they didn’t understand, and you didn’t care if they ever understood. Remus could handle you. He could handle your mood swings and your sarcasm and your cold persona. He could read you like an open book, and he liked to joke that was how he got you. 

But he also knew how to wind you up, and as a marauder at heart, he would take the chance whenever he got it. 

He knew you had been working on a project in one of the empty potions classrooms down in the dungeons and had decided to bring you some food (knowing that you had probably forgotten). However, much to his great amusement, he found you kneeling on a desk to try to reach the top shelf of ingredients to grab one of the jars. 

“Just let me help you—”

“Bite me,” you snapped at him, glaring at him over your shoulder when you noticed he started walking closer to you. 

“I seem to remember that you like that,” he purred, a hint of smirk on his lips as your glare darkened. 

“Cocky bastard,” you grumbled before you turned back to the job in front of you, your fingertips brushing the edge of the jar that was stuffed at the back of the shelf by someone who you deeply hated.

“Your cocky bastard,” he corrected.

“Still a—” you paused when you felt a warm hand on your waist, and watched another hand enter your vision as he easily reached for the jar and grabbed ahold of it before placing it down beside your cauldron. You turned to him, eyes narrowed. “I said I didn’t need help.” 

“You were going to hurt yourself up there, love,” he said in a knowing tone that you hated and loved all at once. 

“You don’t always have to show off how freakishly tall you are,” you grumbled as you climbed down from the desk.

“Or maybe you’re just short, darling,” he said with an innocent smile.

“I’m not short, I am perfectly average,” you retorted, arms crossed over your chest as Remus moved closer to you, towering over you like the smug bastard he was. 

“You’re short enough to have to go on your tiptoes to kiss me,” he teased, his arms winding around your waist to lock you against him.

“Then I’m also short enough to elbow you in the gut with ease,” you countered as you slid away from his grasp, lips twitching at the huff of frustration he let out. “Short enough to keep away from you too.”

“Not that you’d want to,” he said as he slid his arms around your waist, his body pressed against your back as he began to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck. “Take a break.”

“I have work to do,” you stated simply as he began to kiss along your neck. “And I don’t need some jolly giant bothering me.”

“Jolly giant,” he repeated with a chuckle. “Creative, darling, I like that one.”

You bit back your smile. “Thought you would, Lupin.”

.

[hoesluvjude]

Winter Wonderland || jobe bellingham

Word count:1,4k words

Genre:fluff

Author's note :first time writing for jobe and this was a request.enjoy:)

Masterlist

The crisp winter air nipped at your cheeks as you wandered through London’s Winter Wonderland with Jobe, the glow of twinkling fairy lights reflecting in his wide smile.

The creaky wooden sign read “House of horrors " in faded, blood-red letters, the entrance draped with cobwebs and flickering lanterns. You and Jobe stood in front of it, the muffled screams of previous visitors echoing from within.

“You sure about this?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jobe said, feigning confidence. “I’ve got this. You’ll be the one clinging to me in five seconds flat.”

You smirked, not buying it. “We’ll see about that.”

The attendant ushered you inside, and instantly, darkness enveloped you both. Jobe stepped closer, his arm brushing yours as he muttered, “Alright, it's not too bad so far…”

Just then, a motion-activated skeleton lunged from the shadows, its jaw clattering as it shrieked. Jobe let out a startled yelp, practically jumping behind you.

“Not scared, huh?” you teased, biting back laughter.

He cleared his throat, straightening his posture. “I was just… caught off guard. Happens to the best of us.”

You rolled your eyes, but secretly, his reaction made the whole experience twice as fun. As you moved deeper into the maze of creepy corridors, eerie music played, and fog curled around your feet. A door creaked open ahead, and you both froze.

“Okay, you go first,” Jobe said quickly, gesturing for you to take the lead.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re supposed to protect me, remember?”

“I’m protecting you by letting you prove how fearless you are,” he countered, a cheeky grin on his face despite the unease in his eyes.

With a sigh, you pushed the door open, revealing a pitch-black room. The moment you stepped inside, strobe lights flashed, revealing a clown lunging from the corner.

Jobe grabbed your arm with a startled shout, practically hiding behind you. “Nope. Nope. Nope!”

You couldn’t stop laughing, even as your own heart raced. “Jobe, it’s just a guy in makeup!”

“Yeah, well, that guy in makeup almost made me jump out of my skin,” he muttered, refusing to let go of your arm.

The rest of the haunted house was a blur of jumpscares, laughter, and Jobe’s increasingly dramatic reactions. By the time you emerged into the safety of the park, the two of you were breathless from a mix of fear and laughter.

“Alright, fine,” Jobe admitted, leaning against a railing to catch his breath. “Maybe haunted houses aren’t my thing.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” you said, grinning as you nudged him with your shoulder.

He shot you a mock glare. “Hey, at least I didn’t scream that loud.”

“Loud enough to scare the ghosts away,” you teased, clutching your sides as you laughed.

Jobe couldn’t help but laugh too, shaking his head. “Next time, we’re sticking to the Ferris wheel. My heart can’t handle you laughing at me like this.”

“Deal,” you said, still grinning as you grabbed his arm. “But for the record, I think you were very brave… eventually.”, chuckling.

“Oh, ha-ha,” he quipped, rolling his eyes but clearly enjoying himself. “You just wait until we get to the rides. I’ll show you who’s laughing then.”

The two of you wandered through the maze of festive stalls, stopping occasionally to admire hand-crafted ornaments or taste a sample of spiced nuts. Jobe’s eyes lit up when he spotted the towering Ferris wheel. “Come on, let’s do it!” he said, tugging your hand with childlike enthusiasm.

As the wheel slowly climbed, the chaos of the park melted into a serene view. Jobe nudged you with his elbow. “See? Best seat in the house.”

You glanced at him, only to find his eyes already on you, his usual cheeky grin softening into something sweeter. “Glad you’re here with me,” he said quietly, almost shy.

The moment lingered, the chill of the evening forgotten as the Ferris wheel reached its peak, the world below sparkling like a snow globe.

----

“Alright,” Jobe broke the silence, his grin returning. “Now we race to the bumper cars. Loser buys hot chocolate!”

With a playful shove and a head start, he was already off, his laughter echoing through the frosty night air. You sprinted after him, determined not to let him win so easily. But it was no contest. Jobe darted ahead like he was weaving through defenders on the pitch, and by the time you reached the bumper cars, he was already leaning casually against the railings, arms crossed, his smug grin waiting to greet you.

“Too easy,” he teased, pretending to stretch like he’d just run a marathon.

You bent over, hands on your knees,to catch your breath. “Unfair advantage!” you protested, standing upright and pointing at him. “You’re literally a professional athlete. I don’t stand a chance.”

Jobe laughed, that warm, rich sound making you forget the sting of defeat.

You gave him a playful shove, grumbling under your breath about how footballers always had to show off. “Fine, you win. But you’re definitely buying the next round of hot chocolate.”

Jobe held up his hands in mock surrender. “Deal. But first—” He gestured toward a nearby shooting game booth, where plush toys of all sizes hung as prizes. “Let me make it up to you.”

You followed him to the booth, watching as he handed over the money and picked up the plastic rifle. He took a second to size up the targets, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration. “Don’t worry,” he said with a wink. “I’m clutch under pressure.”

True to his word, Jobe hit every single target with practiced precision. The booth attendant gave an impressed whistle before handing over the biggest prize of the lot: a massive teddy bear nearly as tall as you.

“For you,” Jobe said, presenting the bear with a dramatic bow.

You took it, struggling to hold the oversized plush in your arms. “Oh, so now you’re trying to bribe me into forgetting about the race?” you joked, peeking over the bear’s head.

Jobe laughed, sliding an arm around your shoulders to help steady you and your new companion. “Call it a peace offering. But if it works, I won’t complain.”

The two of you walked toward a stand selling hot chocolate, the oversized teddy bear snug in your arms and Jobe by your side.

“Two, please,” Jobe said to the vendor, turning to you with a mischievous grin. “Extra marshmallows for you, of course.”

The cup in your hands felt like a warm hug, and you couldn’t help but laugh when Jobe immediately took a sip of his, only to wince and blow dramatically on the steaming drink. “Careful,” you teased. “Wouldn’t want to burn that tongue of yours.”

----

The smell of sweet treats filled the air as you and Jobe wandered toward the cotton candy stand, the colorful clouds of spun sugar glowing under the festive lights.

“I’m telling you,” Jobe said with a grin, “I can finish an entire stick faster than you.”

You raised an eyebrow, matching his playful tone. “Oh, really? Big talk for someone who took forever to finish that hot chocolate.”

“That’s because I was savoring it,” he shot back, stepping up to the counter.

The vendor handed over two massive swirls of pink and blue cotton candy, and you barely had time to admire the sugary fluff before Jobe was already taking a giant bite.

“Careful, you’ll choke,” you warned, laughing as strands of candy stuck to his face.

“Worth it,” he said through a mouthful, wiping at the sticky sugar on his chin. “This is top-tier cotton candy. You’ve got no chance.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a more deliberate bite of your own. The sweetness melted on your tongue, and for a moment, you simply enjoyed the cheerful buzz of the park around you.

But Jobe wasn’t letting you off the hook. “You’re losing, by the way,” he teased, holding up his stick to show how much progress he’d made.

“It’s not a race,” you countered, smirking as you plucked a piece of his cotton candy and popped it into your mouth.

“Oi!” he exclaimed, feigning outrage. “That’s cheating!”

“All’s fair in love and cotton candy,” you replied with a cheeky grin.

Jobe shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re lucky I’m nice. Next time, though, I’m guarding my food.”

“Next time, I’m ordering popcorn instead,” you said, laughing as you nudged him with your shoulder.

By the time the cotton candy was gone, both of you were sticky with sugar and laughing too hard to care. The night seemed to sparkle a little brighter with Jobe at your side, his laughter as sweet as the treats you'd just shared.

[psychoticfemmm]

Hia! Can you do another Peter Parker x Stark! Reader, I absolutely loved your last one. Could the plotline be along the lines of : Tony walks into your room and finds you and Peter asleep cuddling after you snuck him in the night before. Maybe the whole team gets involved and starts taking photos for blackmail 🤣 Thank you!

 Caught in the Act

pairing: Peter Parker x stark!reader

summary: read the request

The sunlight streamed through your bedroom curtains, falling perfectly on the two of you. Peter Parker’s arm was draped over your waist, his face nuzzled into your neck. His warm breath tickled your skin, and you groaned softly, stirring from your sleep.

The events of the night before were hazy but thrilling: a whispered phone call, Peter scaling the side of the Avengers Tower, and an impromptu movie marathon that ended with the two of you tangled up in each other’s arms.

Peter shifted in his sleep, his nose brushing against your collarbone. A soft hum escaped him, and you smiled, reaching up to lightly ruffle his messy curls.

“Good morning, lovebirds.”

The unmistakable voice of Tony Stark shattered the moment.

Your eyes snapped open, and your heart dropped. Standing at the foot of your bed was your dad, his arms crossed and an expression caught between amusement and absolute mortification.

“D-Dad?!” you stammered, sitting up abruptly. Peter groaned at the sudden movement, blinking himself awake.

“Morning, Mr. Stark,” Peter mumbled sleepily before realizing where he was and who was standing there. His eyes went wide, and he bolted upright. “MR. STARK! I—uh—this isn’t what it looks like!”

Tony raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Really? Because it looks like Spider-Boy snuck into my daughter’s room and decided to cuddle his way into trouble.”

“Dad, it’s not like that!” you protested, though your flushed face said otherwise.

“Oh, so it’s worse,” Tony quipped, cutting you off. “Got it. And by the way, the entire team is outside, loving this.”

Your jaw dropped. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did,” Tony replied smugly. “Because if I have to suffer through this, everyone else does too.”

Right on cue, the door creaked open, and Steve Rogers stepped in, his phone out and snapping a picture. “Morning, kiddos. Cute couple pose, by the way.”

“STEVE!” you yelled, grabbing a pillow and chucking it at him.

Natasha followed, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Aw, I remember young love. You guys were adorable—until Stark called us in for backup.”

“Seriously?” Peter groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“Oh, it’s not just us,” Natasha added as Thor poked his head in.

“Why was I not informed of this bonding moment?” Thor boomed, grinning. “Ah, Spider-Man and Stark’s offspring. A powerful duo!”

“Can you all get out?!” you shouted, grabbing another pillow.

“Not until I get my blackmail photo,” Natasha teased.

Peter tugged you closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “You know, if this keeps up, I might have to climb out the window.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you muttered back, glaring at the group.

Bruce finally showed up, shaking his head with a soft laugh. “Tony, you’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

“I like to think I’m setting the bar,” Tony said smugly.

Finally, the team filtered out, laughing and bantering as they went. Tony lingered for a moment, fixing Peter with a look. “You’re lucky I like you, Parker. But if I catch you sneaking in again, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“Yes, sir,” Peter stammered.

As the door shut, the room finally fell silent. You let out a sigh, flopping back onto the bed. Peter lay beside you, covering his face with his hands.

“Well,” you started, “that went about as horribly as it could’ve gone.”

Peter groaned. “They’re never going to let me live this down. Your dad is probably going to build a tracker for me now.”

“Probably,” you teased, rolling onto your side to face him.

He peeked at you through his fingers, his face still flushed. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” you admitted with a grin.

Peter leaned in closer, his voice dropping slightly. “You know, we could’ve avoided all of this if you hadn’t convinced me to stay the night.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I convinced you? Last I checked, you were the one who said, ‘But I can’t leave you now, you’re too cute when you’re sleepy.’”

His cheeks turned redder. “Okay, fine. Maybe I did say that.”

You leaned closer, your lips brushing against his. “Guess you’ll just have to make it up to me later.”

Peter’s breath hitched, but before he could respond, you pulled back, smirking. “Now, get up, Spider-Boy. We’ve got breakfast to deal with—and probably a million jokes from the team.”

“Great,” he muttered, though a small smile tugged at his lips. “But next time, we’re sneaking into my room. May wouldn’t call the Avengers on us.”

“Deal,” you replied, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door.

[doodle-pops]

Cosy Autumn Days — Thingol, Beleg, Gwindor & Gil-Galad

Synopsis: Different activities they enjoy participating in during the fall season with you.

Thingol — Walk Through the Forest and Fall Picnic

He was always one for grand gestures, but today, he opted for something simpler. You found yourself walking through the vibrant forest of Doriath, the towering trees ablaze with fiery reds and golds, the crisp scent of leaves filling the air. The crunch beneath your boots was satisfying, and as you strolled, Thingol would occasionally bend down to pick up an interestingly shaped leaf, his fingers brushing yours as he handed it over, knowing how much you enjoyed collecting them—and your extensive leaf collection. It was peaceful in a way you both rarely experienced, but you knew he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

When you finally reached the picnic spot, the grandeur of the setting couldn’t be ignored. A blanket, laid out beneath a massive oak, seemed to glow with the sunlight filtering through the remaining leaves. Thingol, ever the king, had prepared everything—he gestured toward the spread of food, his silent invitation as diplomatic as ever. You sat together, enjoying the hearty autumn meal, the warmth of the cider, and the way his arm casually wrapped around your waist as if it had always been there.

The conversation was light with no formal speeches or declarations of undying love, just the kind of easy banter that comes with a relationship so deeply rooted. He smiled more in these quiet moments, his voice softer as he teased you about your overly dramatic reaction to a particularly sour apple or how you boasted about making the best pies.

“The last time you gave me an apple pie, my love, I required two glasses of water per bite,” he reminded, earning him a groan followed by a glare.

“Hey! They’re supposed to be sweet because sugar and spice pair well,” you muttered with a sassy roll of your eyes.

Taking the opportunity to rest a crown of berries and leaves on your head, he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Yes, my love. I know this, but ease up on the sugar next time.”

As the sun dipped lower, casting longer shadows, neither of you made any move to leave, as you curled up beside him—his robe acted as your blanket considering his enormity. Upon each your head, a crown of berries and golden leaves rested as a token of his affection.

Beleg — Apple Picking and Leaf Piles

Ever the competitive by nature, and that extended to apple picking. What was supposed to be a relaxed afternoon turned into a game the moment you stepped into the orchard. “Bet I can get more apples than you,” he said, already grabbing the nearest basket. His grin was wide, his hair tousled from the chilled wind, and you could tell he was serious. So naturally, you accepted the challenge.

The two of you raced between the trees, plucking apples with an enthusiasm that had the orchard workers giving you strange looks. And Beleg, with his ridiculous agility, managed to climb halfway up the trees before you’d even filled your basket. He laughed at your exaggerated annoyance, swinging down and handing you a particularly shiny apple as a peace offering. “I’ll share the winnings,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

After a while, you both grew tired and ended up in a nearby field, collapsing into a pile of leaves someone had thoughtfully raked up. Beleg didn’t even hesitate before tossing a handful of leaves in your face, and that led to an all-out leaf fight. 20/10 times he pushed you into the piles each time you attempted to crawl out, turning it into a playfight—guess who didn’t hold back and claimed another victory. It wasn’t dignified, but by the time you both lay back, breathless and laughing, with leaves tangled in your hair, you couldn’t have cared less. The sky above was the colour of a late autumn evening, and Beleg’s laugh, warm and rich, echoed in the crisp air.

Gwindor — Telling Ghost Stories and Autumn Rainfall

The autumn rain came suddenly, as it always did in Nargothrond. Luckily, you were inside, warm and dry, listening to Gwindor recount an old tale. As the fire crackled beside you, casting shadows on the stone walls, and though the rain was soft, it created a steady rhythm against the windows. Gwindor, despite his normally serious nature, had a knack for telling ghost stories. His voice was low, dramatic, drawing you in as he painted vivid images of long-lost souls wandering the woods, their faint cries echoing through the trees.

Eventually, the rain began to let up, but you stayed there, wrapped in the quiet comfort of the moment. Gwindor wasn’t always the easiest to pull away from his brooding thoughts, but here, with the rain and the fire, he seemed lighter—less burdened by the past and more present with you.

At some point, you leaned into him, his warmth against the chill of the room. Instinctively, his arm moved around you and the story faded into the background as the rain picked up, the soothing patter pulling you further into the cosy atmosphere. Gwindor shifted slightly, glancing at you with an amused smile. “I think my story’s not scary enough,” he murmured teasingly.

“Only because I have someone as brave as you around to keep the scariness away,” you laughed, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath.

Gil-Galad — Farmer’s Market and Picking Out Treats

Your loving King took you to the market, something he rarely had time for during his reign, but today he seemed determined to enjoy it. The stalls were filled with the harvest’s bounty—bright orange pumpkins, baskets of apples, jars of honey, and spices that filled the air with warmth. You wandered together, hand in hand, as Gil-galad pointed out things he thought you’d like. He was surprisingly knowledgeable about the produce, suggesting different types of apples for pies and cider.

“You’ve got a hidden talent for this, haven’t you?” you teased, nudging him.

“Well, I mean, I have to impress you, don’t I? Show off my knowledge to make you fall for me a little more,” he grinned and wiggled his brows, not even trying to deny it. You picked out ingredients together, and by the time you left the market, your arms were full of pumpkins, apples, and a small collection of baked goods.

Back at your home, you set about making cider and treats together, the kitchen filled with the warm scent of cinnamon and apples. Gil-galad, though graceful on the battlefield, was a bit clumsy in the kitchen. At one point, he spilt flour across the counter, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him standing there, covered in a light dusting of white. “Maybe stick to leading armies,” you joked, trying to wipe some of the flour off his chest, but he only grinned and retaliated by flicking more flour at you.

By the time the cider was ready, you were both laughing, the kitchen a mess of spilt spices and chopped apples. But it didn’t matter. You sat together, sipping the hot drink as the last of the autumn sunlight streamed through the window.

Masterlist

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