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bloatedandalone04 · 2 months ago

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TikTok Trends

➪the one where drew is a little clueless in regards to your love for tiktok, and even more confused every time he finds himself thrown into another trend.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, drew being confused for 90% of this, mentions of smut, size difference, slightly younger reader (3 year age gap), there was going to be smut, but i am saving it for another fic.

Word Count: 3.2k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Drew was laying on the king sized bed he shared with you, his sweatpant covered legs crossed as he lounged back on both his pillows and one of yours. His phone was in one of his hands, his thumb scrolling through the latest game results he missed last night when he was too busy fucking you into this very bed.

He was oblivious to the way you were rummaging around in the dresser, though his eyes would occasionally flicker over to you as he scrolled. Tonight was date night, and he knew you would take a lot longer to get ready than he would, so he was staying in his sweats and hoodie until you were ready since he’d just throw something on and then be out the door within the same minute. You were being awfully quiet, and Drew was also oblivious to the way you had propped your phone up behind a picture frame, just out of view.

Drew’s free hand ran through his hair, his recent haircut making his scalp feel a little itchy, but he wasn’t complaining, because this haircut was what had you begging him to fuck you every night this week, so clearly it was working for you.

“Hey, babe,” he murmured, not looking up from his phone. “Where do you want to go tonight? Anywhere you want, I don’t care, I just want to know if I should call in beforehand.”

You bit your lip as you adjusted your phone, your eyes shining with mischief as you moved away from the dresser. “I’m not sure,” you answered as you walked into the closet and grabbed the dark blue dress you were planning on wearing tonight. “Haven’t really thought about it.”

You had to hide your smile as you walked back into the bedroom and set the dress down on the bed next to Drew’s legs, and you had to ignore just how sexy he looked right now as you glanced over at your phone.

Drew had never been one to be very active on social media in the two years you’ve been with him, so you knew for a fact that he would have no clue what you were about to spring on him.

Reaching for the hem of your shirt, you bunched the material in your fingers before pausing, “Hey, baby,” you laughed, poking his knee as you swayed a bit on your feet. When Drew just let out a grunt, you continued, “Can you leave for a few minutes while I get dressed? I’ll be quick.”

You watched as Drew’s eyes flickered all over his phone’s screen before he hummed, moving to sit up. Just as his legs swung over the side of the bed, he seemed to have finally fully processed your words, because his eyes narrowed before he looked over at you. “Wait, what?”

A laugh threatened to escape your mouth, but you managed to compose yourself before he could realize this was yet another trend he was currently being forced into. “Can you, like, get out for a sec? I need to get ready for tonight,” you asked again, gesturing to your shirt and sweats.

One of his brows raised and he glanced down at your current outfit before looking over at your dress. “Uh, why?” he asked, sounding so genuinely confused, you almost cackled. “We live together, baby. I’ve seen you naked, like…a million times now.”

You covered your mouth and crossed your arm over your chest as you tried to keep this going for as long as you could. “Just…please?”

Drew’s brows furrowed as he locked then set his phone down on the bed beside him, his fingers brushing against your thigh. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, reaching for your hand. His voice was so deep but so sweet right now, you felt yourself caving in already. “Tell me, baby.”

“It’s nothing,” you say, but your voice sounded unconvincing even to you. “I just don’t want you in here while I get changed.”

Drew narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the pillows once again, clearly making no move to get up and leave. “Babe, come on,” he mumbled, giving you a pointed look as you tried to keep up the act for a little longer, but he was the actor, not you. “We’ve lived together for half a year now. I’ve seen you take off clothes in front of me more times than I can count. What’s so different now?”

You had a sneaking suspicion that he was catching on, and you knew the act was pretty much up. Still, you tried to go for a little longer, “There’s no difference…” you trailed off, then saw the look of realization flash in his pretty blue eyes.

“Oh, I get it,” he muttered, a smirk tugging at his mouth as he looked up at you. “This is another TikTok thing, isn’t it?”

You furrowed your brows and shook your head, but he had caught you. “No,”

Drew grunted and nodded his head, “Uh huh, where’s your phone?” he asked, glancing around the bedroom as you tried to think of a way to salvage your prank.

“It’s not a TikTok thing-”

“Come on, where is it?” he cut you off, his tone light and relieved as he now knew that nothing was wrong and this was just him falling for another trend going around on an app he didn’t even have installed.

With a huff, you nodded towards the dresser, and Drew shifted a bit so he could see your well-hidden phone behind the picture frame.

“I fucking knew it,” he laughed, rubbing his hands over his face as he leaned back again. “Why do I keep falling for these things?”

“Because you’re old and refuse to use social media,” you mumbled, reaching for your phone and ending the video.

He scoffed from behind you, reaching over to wrap his hand around one of your thighs. “I’m only three years older than you, brat,” he muttered, pulling you towards him. “I’m not nearly old enough for you to call me that.”

“Three and a half,” you hummed, your attention quickly slipping from your phone as you let him turn you around and pull you to stand in between his legs. Your free hand caressed his jaw, his stubble pricking your fingertips as you gazed down at him, “Can’t forget the half.”

Drew hummed, leaning in to press his face against the front of your shirt. “Mm, right,” he rasped, leaning back on the bed and pulling you with him so you are straddling his waist. “Can’t forget the half.”

You dropped your phone onto the bed next to his, both devices quickly being forgotten about as you braced your hands flat on the sheets on either side of his head, your lips finding his in a deep kiss that quickly turned into something a lot more heated.

“You’re not doing it right,” you whined, pushing your boyfriend away from you as you walked towards your phone to restart the recording.

After finding a trend that would actually involve Drew participating in it, you decided to give him a break from all the prank trends you pull on him and asked if he wanted to try this couple trend you saw all over your for you page. Surprisingly enough, he agreed to. You assumed he was probably tired of falling for the pranks all the time, so this way he could be fully aware of what was happening.

With that being said, even though he was an amazing actor, he fucking sucked at following directions.

“What do you mean I’m not doing it right?” he asked, holding his arms out as he watched you set your phone back up against the TV stand. “I’m picking you up, am I not? Is that not what I’m supposed to do here?”

You rolled your eyes and bit back a laugh as you stood back up straight and moved towards him. “No, you’re supposed to flip me upside down,” you said, “Did you even watch the video I sent you?”

“I watch all the videos you send me,” he mumbled, glancing over at your phone before stepping closer to you. “Just tell me what to do, okay?”

You grinned and moved to stand in front of him, and you reached behind you to take Drew’s wrists in your hands. “Just hold me here,” you instructed, placing his big hands on your hips as you both faced the camera. “Then lift me and turn me upside down.”

“That’s it?” he asked, giving your hips a teasing squeeze as he dipped his head down and pressed a firm kiss to your temple. “What if I drop you?”

You look over your shoulder at him and raise your brow, “Well, don’t,”

Drew laughed, the deep sound rumbling against your back as you looked at your phone. “Alright, ready?” he asked, and you nodded. Drew bent his knees slightly, ensuring he had a good grip on you, before he straightened back up again and easily lifted you off the ground.

That was the easy part though, but after a few seconds, he managed to turn you upside down so your legs were by his shoulders and your head was by his knees. “Yay, baby!” you squealed, holding onto his arms tightly as he dangled you above the floor.

Drew let out another deep laugh as he held you securely in place, his arms wrapped protectively around your waist. “Is this it?”

“Yes,” you answer, helplessly swaying in his hold as you look at your phone from your upside down angle. “I hope it turned out well. I don’t want to do this again.”

“Why not?” Drew asked, locking his arms around your thighs as he swayed you even more, making another quiet squeal leave your lips. “Now that I know what to do, this is easy.”

Your grip tightened on his arms as you held on for dear life, a soft whine escaping your mouth. “Drew,”

He laughed and stilled before managing to guide your legs down until you were upright again. “Alright,” he grinned, steadying you with his hands on your waist. “Are we good?”

You nodded and leaned into his touch for a few seconds before moving away to grab your phone. After ending the video, you clicked on it to make sure it came out okay, and as you did so, Drew came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“How’d it turn out?” he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder as he glanced down at your phone as well.

“Good,” you answered, playing the video and watching with a dumb smile on your face as your boyfriend effortlessly picked you up and managed to do the trend rather successfully. Turning your head, you pressed a quick kiss to his chin, “Thank you.”

Drew hummed, kissing you properly as his hands splayed across your belly. “‘Course,” he mumbled, kissing you again before looking back down at your phone. “You look so small, baby. Send that to me.”

You grinned and nodded as he stepped away from you and towards the doorway. “You could see it on my TikTok if you actually had the app,” you pointed out as you sat down on the couch.

“Not happening,” he called over his shoulder before giving you a teasing smirk and leaving the room.

As you watched the video again and matched it up with the song it would go with, you bit down on your lip, because Drew looked really hot in it, and it was extremely obvious how fit and strong he is since he lifted you up with ease.

You could only imagine all the comments you’d get, and all of them would be girls thirsting over your boyfriend.

The ‘calling your boyfriend friend names’ prank was all that was currently on your for you page on your TikTok, and you knew after watching the first one that you were going to do it to Drew.

Your poor, unsuspecting boy who was really never safe as long as you had access to the app, or any app for that matter, because he was just too easy.

Drew was laying back on the bed, one arm propped behind his head as he browsed through various movies on Netflix, his gaze fixated on the TV that was mounted on the wall above the dresser.

He looked so focused as he tried to find something to watch, and you knew he was looking for something that you would like since you and he had very different tastes when it came to movies. You almost felt bad for what you were about to do.

Almost.

“Dude, just pick a movie already,” you laughed from your spot on your side of the bed, discreetly angling your phone to capture his entire upper body without making it look obvious.

Drew’s head turned in your direction, one of his brows raising as his thumb paused on the remote. “I’m trying to,” he muttered, squinting his eyes at you, “Dude.”

You held in your snort and shook your head, looking back up at the TV. “I don’t care what we watch, man,” you mumbled and felt him shift next to you, but you kept your eyes locked on the screen. “Just pick something.”

The remote was set down on the bed between your body and his, and when you glanced up at him, he was softly glaring at you, “I will, once you call me by my actual name instead of dude or man,”

You actually laughed, but this one fit in well, “Okay, Drew,”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he groaned, moving towards you and dropping his head to your chest. He presses his face against your cleavage as you reach over and prop your phone up on the nightstand. “Call me what you always call me.”

You grinned as you draped your arms around his shoulders. “Aw, buddy,”

Drew’s head had never snapped up faster than it did when you said that. “Why are you calling me that?” he asked, placing his hands flat against the bed on either side of your hips as he pushed himself back up so he was kneeling beside your still reclined form. “Baby, what’s going on?”

You pressed your lips together as you reached up and cradled his pretty face in your hands. “Nothing,” you answered, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs.

Drew gave you a skeptical look before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. His big hands found your hips as he deepened it, his tongue brushing against yours, and you returned his kiss like you always do. “Are you sure?” he murmured against your mouth, and you knew your knees would’ve buckled if you were standing up from how deep and sexy his voice is.

But you couldn’t think about that right now, and you realized you would have to edit that intense kiss out of the video so TikTok didn’t flag you, which would suck. “I’m sure,” you confirmed, then fucked with him further, “Everything’s all good, pal.”

Drew gave you a look of disbelief as he pulled away and sat back on his knees again. “Pal? Did you seriously just call me pal?” he gaped at you, his brows drawn together in confusion and something that looked a lot like betrayal. “Babe, what the fuck did I do? I know you’re mad at me, you keep calling me all these random names. Tell me what I did.”

You laughed and shook your head, pushing yourself up so you were sitting in front of him. “You didn’t do anything, Drew,” you assured him, but could tell that your words had very little effect on him. “I promise.”

His eyes narrowed as he glared at you, moving back to his original spot on his side of the bed. “Then stop calling me dude or pal,” he muttered, picking the remote back up and lifting his arm so you could cuddle against his side.

You actually did snort this time as you crawled over to him, “Okay, bro,” you mumbled as you slid under his arm, but as soon as the name left your lips, Drew was standing up from the bed and looking down at you with his hands on his hips.

“Bro? Bro?” he echoed, “No, something is definitely wrong here. What is happening right now, Y/n? Are you breaking up with me or something?”

You let out a loud laugh as you rolled onto your side. “No,” you answered, shaking your head as you looked up at him. “I’m not breaking up with you, Drew. Why would I do that?”

He sounded a bit desperate now as he braced one knee on the edge of the bed and asked, “Then why are you calling me dude and bro and pal? You’ve never called me those names before,” he rambled, “That’s what you call a friend, baby, not your boyfriend.”

“I know,” you said, propping yourself up on your elbows as you looked up at him, and after getting another look at his handsome, yet so obviously confused face, you caved. “That’s what the prank is, babe. I call you names I’d call a friend.”

Drew’s brows furrowed, then he was looking around the bed for your phone, and when he glanced at the nightstand, he let out a loud groan. “Oh for fucks sake,” he grunted, rubbing his hands over his face as you laughed and moved to retrieve your phone. “I thought we were breaking up or something. Why do I keep falling for this shit?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Guys are just so easy,” you answered, “And unless you cheat on me or something, I’m never breaking up with you.”

Drew dropped his hands to his sides as he joined you back on the bed. “And I’m never cheating on you,” he rasped, straddling your thighs as he placed his hands on your waist. “But how many more times are you going to do this to me? This one was fucked up.”

You laughed as you ended the recording, then gasped when you felt how hot his skin was. “Drew,” you say with wide eyes, “You’re, like…sweating.”

“I know I am,” he said, his fingers pushing up your shirt as his hands ran along the skin of your stomach. “I told you, I thought you were breaking up with me. I was panicking.”

You smiled up at him, letting him take your phone from you and toss it onto the end of the bed. “I would never,” you promised, and Drew wrapped his fingers around your wrists, guiding your hands up to rest on his chest as he gazed down at you with an intense stare.

“Good,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against yours, and it was clear that the hunt for a movie to watch was now postponed. His eyes were even darker when he pulled away, his nose bumping gently against yours. “I love you.”

You whimpered quietly as you slid your hands up into his hair. “I love you too,”

Then he was pressing himself against you completely, and soon enough, you were sweating too.

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starkeyisthelastname · 5 months ago

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found the picture on the right on pinterest and felt like writing a little cute moment for our pornstar!rafe 💖😩

Job aside, you and Rafe both loved the camera and capturing every little moment. You were still sore, having just given birth to your second child a couple of days ago. Your baby girl was the perfect addition to you and Rafe’s family. It was hard to believe you both now lived in a home together and shared two children. You both tried to push aside the fact one day you would have to explain to your kids what you did as a career. Right now you both were focused on having a toddler and a newborn.

You brought the camera up to take a picture of you and the sleeping baby girl in your arms. You were wearing next to nothing, but that was the most comfortable. You were exhausted and breastfeeding, not caring what you looked like. You still wanted to capture these precious moments, no matter how tired you were.

“Taking more pictures again?” Rafe's deep voice pulled out of your photography session, your head turning to meet his tall frame that was standing in the bathroom doorway. He was shirtless, toned upper body flexing as he leaned against the frame. “Lemme me see her.” He motioned you closer, blue eyes watching as you walked over and slowly handed him the tiny baby.

Rafe was so natural with both of your children, something that took you by surprise as he was so closed off and held a lot of trauma. He vowed to never make his kids feel the same way his dad made him feel. He held the baby girl protectively, unaware you had brought the camera up to take a picture of the heart warming moment in front of you. He was such a good daddy, something you knew he had stressed constantly about during both of your pregnancies.

“Little man’s knocked out.” He said, referring to your son whom much like Rafe was a handful. He was attached to the both of you, and having a new baby at home was going to be an adjustment. You hummed, setting the camera aside as you followed Rafe back into the master bedroom. The little boy was in fact asleep, his face all Rafe’s as he slept soundly in the king size bed.

It was hard to believe that this was the same man that you never thought would confess his feelings. You climbed in bed carefully, watching as Rafe walked over to his side with the baby still in his muscled arms. “Can’t believe I got two kids and shit now.” He said with a laugh, his large palm coming to rest on the baby girl’s back as he looked down the sleeping boy between the two of you.

He once thought that his bleach blonde hair, signature mustache and fucking on camera was the only thing he ever would be good for. Not that the ‘pussy slayer’ wasn’t entirely gone, he couldn’t wait until the doctor gave the clear to have sex again. But for the first time in his life he felt truly happy with everything he had. The girl he was crazy in love with and two beautiful kids, something that he never thought he was worth having.

#rafe cameron #pornstar!rafe #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron concepts #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #obx #obx smut #outer banks

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zerocoded · 15 days ago

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summary: headcannons of what caleb is like in bed.

authors note: help me i need him chronically. this is my opinion babes! i can't shut my brain off when it comes to him anymore. waiting for the 22nd to come is like waiting for my husband get back from war. everything here is what i read about his character so far, i hope you enjoy!

warnings: nsfw content • minors dni • SMUT • talks about size kink, teasing, fingering with his prosthetic bla bla, idk what else. A LOT. • this is basically word vomit, i'm sorry.

word count: 1.2k

caleb might be more conscious of his touch, especially with his bionic arm, carefully adjusting his strength to ensure comfort and gentleness.

i KNOW bro can’t keep his grunts down, like he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment.

he wants to consume you entirely, like occupy your every thought and feeling when getting intimate with you.

he’s a sucker for your reactions, so attentive to the point it makes you shy.

ALSO he’s so big—like everything about him is just massive. we know that already, right? sometimes HE forgets.

i just got a feeling that caleb's bed is enormous, like king-size for real, made for someone his size. like BIG BIG. because he's a big boy.

he kind of doesn’t fully grasp how strong he is or how big he is compared to you, like the first time he closed his hands around your throat, he gave you whiplash.

everything in his apartment is set high to accommodate him, and you struggle with it constantly.

his frame completely consumes you, overwhelming but in a way that feels safe.

one time, tara walked in on the two of you mid-moment, she was sleeping on your apartment for some reason and caleb came from the farspace fleet really missing you. she asked caleb where you were, and he just casually said "here," while tara bolted out, flustered beyond belief when she realized what was going on.

you were literally UNDER him and to anyone passing, it looked like he was alone lol.

you two have little banter all the time, thanks to growing up together as childhood friends.

tell me i'm not getting too ahead of time, but i gotta say this. when you’re pregnant, caleb has this habit of saying “shush, i’m talking to the baby” every time he rests his head on your belly.

THAT'S SO CUTE, RIGHT? URGH.

he loves being in control – not in a domineering way, but because he wants to make sure you feel completely taken care of. he’s meticulous, learning what you like and pushing those boundaries just enough to drive you wild.

his size is an obsession for him – he’s hyperaware of how much bigger he is compared to you, and he uses it to his advantage. holding your wrists in one hand, pinning you beneath him, or just the way his body completely overshadows yours—it gets him going every time.

he’s vocal, but only for you – low grunts, whispered praise, and occasionally losing control with a deep growl when you hit just the right spot. but he’s also hyperaware of how you react, loving every gasp and whimper that escapes your lips.

a possessive streak – he doesn’t say it outright, but the way his hands grip your hips or how he marks your skin with kisses is all about claiming you. his touch lingers, even when you’re just walking around afterward.

obsessed with eye contact – he insists you look at him, especially in your most vulnerable moments. “keep your eyes on me,” he murmurs, his gaze locking you in place as if the world outside the two of you doesn’t exist.

an absolute tease – he loves winding you up, taking his time until you’re begging him to stop playing around. slow kisses down your neck, feather-light touches that leave you trembling—he knows exactly what he’s doing.

his hands – they’re huge and rough, but his touch is incredibly gentle when he wants it to be. he loves how your body reacts to the contrast, and he uses it to his full advantage, whether he’s tracing your spine or gripping your thighs.

THE BIONIC ARM? OH MY GAWD.

he really hates the fact that he can't feel you - at all. but his prosthetic can come in handy sometimes 😏

he could use his arm’s advanced capabilities, like adjustable pressure or vibration, to focus on your pleasure, experimenting with new sensations. GUYS I HAD TO SAY IT.

i just know he teases you gliding the cool metal over warm, flushed skin and eliciting shivers of delight.

not him using it like your own personal vibrator. turning on subtle vibrations during a kiss or when he's fingering you.

he LOVES to explore areas like the neck, back, or thighs, using varying pressures to heighten your sensitivity.

aftercare king – he’s all about making sure you feel safe and comfortable afterward.

he’s a little shy about certain things – despite his confidence, there are moments when he feels self-conscious, like when you run your fingers along the scars on his body. but your touch soothes him, and he grows to crave the intimacy of being vulnerable with you. again, his prothetic can become a insecurity of him on these times.

unexpectedly playful – he likes to keep things fun, especially when the mood is light. sneaky touches, biting your ear just to hear you squeak, or pulling you onto his lap when you least expect it.

easily undone by you taking control – as much as he loves being in charge, when you take the lead, he absolutely melts. seeing you confident and assertive makes him lose every ounce of his composure. I JUST KNOW HE LOVES IT.

praise kink on both sides – he loves telling you how good you’re being, how beautiful you are, and how perfect you feel. but he’s also weak for your praise—if you tell him how much you want him or how amazing he’s making you feel, it’s game over.

a sucker for your scent – burying his face in your neck or your hair is his favorite thing. he associates your scent with safety and home, and it’s an instant comfort for him, even when things heat up. i just know he missed you so much while he was gone.

light experimentation – he’s always willing to try new things if it means making you happy. he might be cautious at first, but your enthusiasm has a way of bringing out his adventurous side.

he’s an absolute wreck for soft moments – when you’re tender and loving, gently tracing his features or whispering sweet things, it undoes him completely. he’s all about intensity, but those quiet, intimate moments leave him weak in the knees.

he’s competitive – if you ever tease him or play hard to get, he rises to the challenge, determined to win you over every single time. and when he does, he’ll make sure you know it.

obsessed with your reactions – he watches your every move, cataloging the way your body arches, the sounds you make, and the way your breath catches. nothing escapes his attention, and he uses that knowledge to drive you to the brink.

neck kisses – his favorite spot to tease and mark. he loves the way you shiver when his lips brush over that sensitive spot just below your ear.

secretly loves when you’re a little rough – tugging on his hair, biting his shoulder, or leaving marks on his skin? he thrives on the proof of how much you want him. it’s like a badge of honor for him.

he’s insanely attentive to detail – he remembers everything you like, from the way you gasp when he kisses your collarbone to how your breathing changes when you’re close. he uses that knowledge to make sure you’re always completely satisfied.

i need to write about him loving us ASAP, bye.

author's note: i came up with these while trying to write for caleb's love language (the thrid chapter) and i thought i could use it as a solo post hehe. see you guys next! send me a request • my masterpost

#love and deepspace #caleb x you #lads #caleb love and deepspace #caleb x mc #caleb fluff #love and deepspace caleb #lnds caleb #lads caleb #caleb #lnds #caleb lads #caleb smut #lads smut #lads zayne #zayne love and deepspace

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misswynters · 7 months ago

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Winter’s Embrace — Chapter One

Cregan Stark x targaryen fem!reader

[synopsis: You arrive at winterfell, you feel unwelcomed and like an outsider. You weren’t used to not customs of the north.

[a/n: i know, it’s always a targaryen princess switch it up! (pls this is my first time ever writing) and there’s barely any cregan x readers.

[word count: 2.5k?

[note | pls don’t just like, reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

next chapter |

Winterfell loomed on the horizon, its grey stone walls blending seamlessly with the winter landscape. As your carriage approached the gates, you felt a shiver run down your spine, not from the cold but from the uncertainty of what awaited you within those ancient walls. The North was a world away from the warm sands and fiery skies of King's Landing, where you had spent most of your life. Here, you were not just a stranger but a princess—a dragon in a land of wolves.

The carriage came to a halt, and you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. The door opened, and a gust of icy wind greeted you. Wrapping your cloak tightly around your shoulders, you stepped out into the courtyard, your breath visible in the frigid air. The guards watched you with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, their eyes lingering a bit too long.

Cregan Stark, who’s the Warden of the North, stood at the entrance to the Great Hall, his imposing figure framed by the heavy wooden doors. He was a tall man with dark hair and piercing grey eyes that seemed to see straight through you. As you approached, he stepped forward, his expression one of polite interest.

“Princess,” he greeted you, his voice deep and resonant. “Welcome to Winterfell.”

"Thank you, Lord Stark" you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "I greatly appreciate your hospitality."

He nodded, his gaze not wavering. "I hope you find Winterfell to your liking, though I fear it may not be as comfortable as the South."

You forced a smile. "I am sure it will be an adjustment, but nevertheless i will get used to it"

The Great Hall was bustling with activity as servants hurried about, preparing for the evening meal. The warmth of the fire was a welcome contrast to the cold outside, but it did little to dispel the feeling of being an outsider. You could feel the weight of their gazes, the whispered conversations that fell silent as you passed.

Cregan led you to your chambers, a modest but well-appointed room with a large bed and a roaring fire. "If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask," he said, his tone formal.

"Thank you, My lord," you replied, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

He hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but then he simply nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

The days that followed were a blur of introductions and attempts to settle into a routine. The people of Winterfell were polite but distant, their mistrust evident in their eyes. You tried to make yourself useful, helping where you could, but it seemed that no matter what you did, you were always viewed as an dragon in a wolves den.

Cregan was kind but distant, his duties keeping him busy. He checked in on you regularly, making sure you were comfortable, but there was an unspoken tension between you. You sensed that he believed you were ill-suited for the harsh realities of the North, a delicate flower from the South who would wilt in the cold.

One evening, as you sat by the fire in your chambers, lost in thought, there was a knock at the door. “Enter,” you called, expecting one of the servants.

To your surprise, it was Cregan. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "I hope I am not disturbing you," he said.

"Not at all," you replied, gesturing for him to sit. "Please, join me."

He took a seat opposite you, the firelight casting shadows on his chiseled features. "I wanted to see how you are adjusting," he said. "I know this must be difficult for you.

You sighed, staring into the flames. "It is. But I am trying to accustomed to the way everything is done here."

He nodded, his gaze intense. "You are stronger than you appear, Princess. I see that."

You looked at him, surprised by his words. "Thank you, Lord Stark. That means a lot."

For a moment, there was a silence between you, the crackling of the fire the only sound. Then, Cregan spoke again, his voice softer. "I understand that you are a dragon dreamer."

Your heart skipped a beat. It was not something you spoke of often, the gift—or curse—that you carried. "Yes," you admitted. "I have dreams of dragons and the future."

He leaned forward, his eyes searching yours. "Do you trust your dreams?"

You hesitated, then nodded. "I do. They have never led me astray."

Cregan seemed to consider this, then leaned back in his chair. "Perhaps, in time, you will find your place here. The North is a harsh land, but it can also be a place of great beauty and strength."

You smiled, feeling a glimmer of hope. "I hope so, Lord Stark. I truly do."

As the days passed, you began to find small ways to integrate yourself into the life of Winterfell. You helped in the kitchens, learning the recipes and customs of the North. You spent time with the children, telling them stories of dragons and far-off lands. Slowly, the walls began to come down, and you felt a sense of belonging start to take root.

Cregan was a constant presence, his support and encouragement a source of strength. He seemed to understand the struggle you faced, the weight of expectations and the challenge of finding your place in a world that was not your own. There were moments when you caught glimpses of the man beneath the lord—the kindness in his eyes, the warmth of his smile.

One day, as you were walking through the courtyard, a group of women approached you. Their leader, an older woman with a stern expression, looked you up and down. "Princess," she said, her tone respectful but cold. "We have heard much about you."

You nodded, feeling a knot of anxiety in your stomach. "I hope it has been good."

The woman shrugged. "Some good, some not. But actions speak louder than words. We will see what kind of woman you truly are."

You smiled, determined to prove yourself. "I hope I can earn your respect."

Cregan watched from a distance, his heart swelling with pride as he saw you stand your ground. He knew the road ahead would not be easy, but he had no doubt that you were strong enough to walk it.

One night, as the storm raged outside, you found yourself unable to sleep. The dreams had been coming more frequently, visions of dragons and fire, of a future shrouded in darkness. You threw on a cloak and made your way to the Great Hall, seeking solace in the warmth of the fire.

To your surprise, Cregan was there, staring into the flames. He looked up as you entered, his expression softening. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked.

You shook your head, joining him by the hearth. "No. The dreams..."

He nodded, understanding. "Tell me about them."

You hesitated, then began to speak, the words flowing out of you like a river. You told him of the dragons, of the visions of a future both beautiful and terrifying. He listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Those are just visions, what matters is how you act upon them and not let them get to your head” he said in a soft tone.

Tears welled in your eyes, and you squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Cregan."

He smiled, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "You are stronger than you know, Princess. And I am proud to stand by your side."

The days turned into weeks, and the snow outside showed no signs of abating. Within Winterfell, you began to find your place. You helped in the kitchens, worked alongside the maids, and even joined the training sessions in the yard. Slowly, the people began to see you not as an outsider, but as someone willing to share their burdens.

Cregan watched with growing admiration. One evening, as you sat by the hearth, he joined you, his presence a comfort in the cold.

"You've done well," he said, his voice warm.

You looked up at him, a smile playing on your lips. "Thank you. It hasn't been easy."

He reached out, his hand gently brushing against yours. "Nothing worth having ever is."

The thaw began slowly, both outside and within the hearts of Winterfell's people. The Northmen, once so wary, started to see you in a different light. Your actions, your kindness, and your determination had begun to win them over.

One day, as you helped prepare for a feast, one of the older women approached you. "You've done well, lass," she said, her voice gruff but not unkind. "You've proven yourself."

You smiled, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. "I’m glad i was able to prove myself." Cregan, watching from across the room, felt a surge of pride.

#house of the dragon #cregan x reader #cregan stark #cregan x you #hotd season 2 #hotd fanfic #hotd cregan #house targaryen #cregan fanfiction #house stark #jacaerys velaryon #winters embrace – mini series

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w1w2 · 16 days ago

Text

A Contract of Silence

Previous part | Part 2 | Next part

Giselle x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 6,5k

Synopsis: Y/N adjusts to her new life in Giselle’s cold, opulent world, where every moment feels like walking on a tightrope.

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The streets blurred outside the cab’s window as Y/N stared at the bustling cityscape. The contract she had signed felt like a phantom weight in her bag, an ever present reminder of the choice she had made.

It was a strange feeling, this mixture of apprehension and determination. She had spent the past few days packing up what little she owned, saying goodbye to the familiarity of her old life. The tiny apartment she had shared with her family, filled with secondhand furniture and fading wallpaper, now felt like a lifetime away.

When the cab pulled up to the building, Y/N’s breath hitched. The high rise towered above her, a gleaming monument of glass and steel. The doorman opened her door with practiced precision, offering a polite nod as she stepped out.

“Good evening, ma’am,” he said, taking her single suitcase with ease. “Miss Uchinaga is expecting you.”

The words sent a chill down her spine. Y/N forced herself to nod, clutching her bag tightly as she followed the doorman through the grand lobby. The space was vast and pristine, with polished marble floors and soaring ceilings. Even the air smelled expensive, a faint mix of fresh flowers and something clean and metallic.

Her nerves prickled as she stepped into the private elevator. The doorman pressed the button labeled “PH” and offered her a brief smile before stepping back.

“Have a pleasant evening,” he said as the doors slid shut.

Y/N wasn’t sure if “pleasant” was the right word for what awaited her.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, revealing a space so grand it momentarily stole Y/N’s breath. The penthouse was a masterpiece of modern design. Clean lines, muted tones, and carefully curated art pieces gave the space an air of effortless sophistication.

The living room stretched out before her, dominated by floor to ceiling windows that framed the city skyline like a work of art. Sleek furniture in neutral shades of gray and cream was arranged with precision, and every surface seemed to gleam under the soft, ambient lighting.

“Miss Y/N.”

The voice was unmistakable, sharp, composed, and commanding.

Y/N turned to see Giselle, she was dressed impeccably in a black blazer and tailored trousers, her hair pulled into a low ponytail. She moved with an air of authority, each step deliberate, her movements fluid and purposeful against the polished wood floors.

“You’re late,” Giselle said. Her tone wasn’t scolding, but it carried a weight that made Y/N’s cheeks flush.

Y/N fumbled to pull her phone from her bag, typing quickly before showing the screen to Giselle.

“I’m sorry. There was traffic.”

Giselle’s gaze flicked to the screen, her expression unreadable. “Follow me,” she said curtly, turning on her heel.

Y/N followed, her footsteps hesitant as Giselle led her through the expansive penthouse. The space was larger than anything Y/N could have imagined. Every corner seemed to radiate wealth, from the sleek, minimalist kitchen to the artfully arranged bookshelves lining the walls.

“This will be your section,” Giselle said as they stopped at a hallway branching off from the main living area.

Y/N peeked inside as Giselle gestured toward the rooms. The bedroom was impossibly large, with a king sized bed dressed in crisp white linens and a plush gray headboard. A soft rug covered part of the hardwood floor, and a floor-length window offered an unobstructed view of the city skyline.

Next to it was a bathroom that looked like something out of a magazine. The marble countertops gleamed under recessed lighting, and the oversized tub practically invited her to sink into it and forget the world for a while.

“There’s also a small sitting area,” Giselle continued, motioning to a cozy space with a loveseat and a sleek black coffee table. “You’ll find it adequate for your needs.”

Y/N nodded, pulling out her phone to type a response.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Giselle glanced at the phone briefly, her expression betraying no emotion. “Dinner is at seven. Don’t be late.”

With that, she turned and walked away, her posture as straight and poised as ever.

Y/N stood frozen in the doorway of her new room, her suitcase still clutched in her hand. The space was undeniably luxurious, but it felt... cold. There were no personal touches, no warmth. It was a far cry from the chaotic coziness of her family’s apartment.

She set her suitcase down and perched on the edge of the bed, staring out at the glittering city beyond the window. For a moment, the surrealness of it all washed over her. She was here, in Giselle Uchinaga’s penthouse because she had agreed to a life she didn’t fully understand.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled out her phone again and opened the notes app.

“I’ll make this work.”

The words felt like both a promise and a challenge. Sliding her phone back into her bag, Y/N stood and began unpacking, the faint echo of Giselle’s footsteps lingering in her mind.

By the time she finished unpacking, the clock on her phone read 6:57 PM, just enough time to head to the dining room.

The dining room was as grand and intimidating as the rest of the penthouse. A long glass table stretched across the room, its polished surface reflecting the cold, sterile light of a modern chandelier that hung above it. The chairs, sleek and minimalist, seemed almost too pristine to touch, their design a perfect match for the rest of the penthouse’s austere elegance.

Y/N hesitated in the doorway, feeling small and out of place in the cavernous space. Her fingers curled around the strap of her bag, which she still hadn’t put down since unpacking. Across the room, Giselle was already seated at the head of the table, her posture impeccable, a glass of deep red wine cradled elegantly in her hand.

She didn’t look up as Y/N entered, her gaze fixed on a tablet resting on the table beside her. The faint glow of the screen illuminated her sharp features, making her seem even more untouchable.

Y/N’s stomach churned as she glanced at the chairs lining the table. Each one seemed too formal, too far removed from the world she knew. She fumbled to pull her phone from her bag, typing quickly before holding up the screen.

“Where should I sit?”

Giselle’s eyes flicked up briefly, her gaze cool and assessing before it dropped back to the tablet. She gestured to the chair directly beside her.

“Here. Always next to me, for appearances.”

Her tone was as measured and detached as ever, but the command in her voice left no room for hesitation.

Y/N nodded, swallowing hard as she slid into the chair Giselle had indicated. Her movements felt awkward, as though she were trying not to disturb the air in the room.

Moments later, the housekeeper appeared, moving with the quiet precision of someone well accustomed to working in the shadows of power. She placed a plate in front of Y/N with a practiced grace that made the act seem almost ceremonial.

The meal was exquisite. The duck was perfectly seared, its skin crisp and golden, while the roasted vegetables were arranged in an artful pattern around the plate. A delicate drizzle of sauce completed the dish, its aroma tantalizing.

But Y/N could barely taste it.

The tension in the room was suffocating, wrapping around her chest like a vice. She cut into the duck with careful precision, her hands trembling slightly as she brought a bite to her mouth. The flavors, though extraordinary, felt muted against the backdrop of her nerves.

Across the table, Giselle ate with the same calculated precision she seemed to apply to every aspect of her life. Her movements were methodical, her gaze focused on her plate or her tablet, as though Y/N wasn’t even there.

The silence was unbearable. Y/N glanced at her phone, considering typing something to break it, but the thought of interrupting Giselle’s icy composure made her hesitate.

Halfway through the meal, Giselle set down her fork with a soft clink. The sound, though subtle, made Y/N’s heart jump.

Without a word, Giselle reached into the pocket of her blazer and pulled out a small black velvet box. She placed it on the table between them, her movements as smooth and deliberate as always.

Y/N stared at the box, her heart racing as Giselle flipped it open to reveal a dazzling diamond engagement ring. The light from the chandelier above caught the stone, sending tiny rainbows scattering across the table.

“We’ll need to make this believable,” Giselle said matter of factly, her tone devoid of emotion.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she stared at the ring. It was stunning, far more extravagant than anything she had ever imagined wearing. She fumbled with her phone, typing quickly before holding it up.

“You’re giving me this?”

Giselle arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into the faintest hint of a smirk. “It’s not yours,” she replied. “It’s a prop. You’ll wear it at all public appearances, starting tomorrow.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her fingers trembling as she reached out to take the ring. The velvet box felt soft against her skin, a stark contrast to the weight of the moment.

She slipped the ring onto her finger, her breath hitching as it slid into place. The diamond sparkled brilliantly, catching the light with every slight movement of her hand.

“It fits,” Giselle observed, lifting her glass of wine and taking a slow sip. Her tone was neutral, as though she were commenting on something as mundane as the weather.

Y/N hesitated, then typed another message, her thumbs moving quickly over the screen.

“Does it look convincing?”

Giselle’s eyes flicked to Y/N’s hand, her gaze sharp and calculating. For a moment, she seemed to study the ring as though evaluating its worth before leaning back in her chair.

“It will suffice,” she said simply. “Just remember, this is for appearances only.”

Y/N nodded, her chest tightening at the reminder. She forced herself to take another bite of the duck, but it felt like swallowing stones.

When the meal was finished, Giselle set her napkin down. She rose from the table with effortless grace, smoothing the front of her blazer as she turned to address Y/N.

“My assistant will contact you in the morning to finalize preparations for the Lueur gala. Be ready.”

Her tone was calm and detached, as though she were delivering instructions to an employee rather than speaking to the person who was now supposed to be her fiancée.

Y/N nodded quickly, fumbling to pull out her phone. Her fingers moved across the screen, typing out the expected response.

“I’ll be ready.”

Giselle’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, sharp and assessing, as if she were scrutinizing Y/N for any sign of weakness or hesitation. Y/N felt her cheeks warm under the weight of that stare, but she held her ground, her back straight and her expression composed.

After what felt like an eternity, Giselle gave a faint nod of acknowledgment before turning on her heel and walking away. Her steps were soft against the polished floor, the sound fading as she disappeared into the shadows of the penthouse.

And just like that, Y/N was alone.

The silence in the dining room was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the chandelier above. The table, with its sleek glass surface and untouched place settings, felt impossibly large.

Y/N’s eyes drifted down to the ring on her finger. The diamond caught the light from the chandelier, scattering tiny rainbows across the table. It was stunning, a perfect piece of craftsmanship, its beauty undeniable. And yet, all Y/N could see was the lie it represented.

It was beautiful, flawless and completely fake.

Her chest tightened as she studied the ring, her thumb brushing absently against the cold metal band. The weight of it was heavier than she’d expected, a constant reminder of the role she had agreed to play.

For a moment, the enormity of it all threatened to overwhelm her. The contract, the charade, Giselle’s icy demeanor, it felt like stepping into a world that didn’t belong to her, a world where warmth and sincerity were replaced by calculated appearances and unspoken expectations.

Taking her phone, Y/N opened the notes app with a trembling hand. Her vision blurred slightly, her thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess of doubt and determination.

“I’ll make this work.”

She stared at the words, her lips pressing into a thin line. They felt like both a mantra and a desperate plea. She didn’t know if she was trying to convince herself or simply reminding herself of why she was doing this.

She thought of her mother, whose hands had grown rough from years of endless work, and her siblings, whose laughter had become rare under the weight of their struggles. They deserved better, a future free from the shadow of her father’s debts.

The coldness of the penthouse, the sharp edges of Giselle’s personality, the suffocating pretense of their arrangement, it didn’t matter. As long as it helped her family, she would bear it all.

Y/N closed the app and slipped her phone back into her pocket, her fingers lingering on the device for a moment as though it were her lifeline. She took a deep breath, the action doing little to calm the storm inside her.

Rising from her chair, she pushed it back gently and glanced around the dining room one last time. The space felt cavernous, the cold light of the chandelier only amplifying its emptiness.

Her footsteps echoed softly as she walked back toward her room. The penthouse was eerily quiet, the silence pressing against her like a weight. The city lights glittered beyond the windows, but they felt distant, like a world she could see but never truly be a part of.

When she reached her room, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment, her eyes drifting to the skyline visible through the large window.

For a brief moment, she allowed herself to wonder what Giselle was thinking. Did the CEO feel the same weight, the same sense of isolation? Or was this world so familiar to her that she didn’t even notice?

Y/N shook her head, pushing the thought away. Giselle’s world wasn’t hers to understand. All that mattered was playing her part and doing it well.

She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, her hands resting in her lap as she stared out at the glittering city beyond. The faint reflection of the diamond ring in the glass caught her eye, and she tightened her fists slightly, grounding herself in the decision she had made.

“For them”, she reminded herself again.

She exhaled slowly, lying back on the bed and closing her eyes. The city lights flickered against the walls of her room, but Y/N didn’t look at them. Her thoughts were already focused on the day ahead, on the expectations waiting for her.

Tomorrow, her new life truly began.

Morning sunlight poured into the penthouse, streaming through the towering windows and casting long streaks of light across its sleek, sterile surfaces. The golden glow softened the sharp edges of the modern furniture, but it couldn’t warm the cold, impersonal atmosphere of the space.

Y/N stood by the window in her room, staring out at the sprawling cityscape below. The world outside felt impossibly far away, the lives of the people bustling in the streets below so different from her own. Her reflection in the glass stared back at her, small, uncertain, and out of place in the luxury surrounding her.

Her phone buzzed, breaking the silence. She glanced down at the screen.

“The stylists will come to your room at 3pm. Your gown has been delivered at your doors.”

The message from Giselle’s assistant was as curt and professional as ever, but it sent a jolt through Y/N. She turned to look at the gown hanging on the hanger by her door.

It was stunning.

The gown was a masterpiece of shimmering fabric and intricate detailing. The deep emerald green material caught the light, shifting between shades of forest and jade with every movement. The neckline was elegant, dipping just enough to be daring but not over the top, and the intricate beadwork along the bodice shimmered like tiny stars.

Y/N hesitated, stepping closer to run her fingers lightly over the fabric. It was unlike anything she’d ever worn. It felt delicate, almost too precious for her to touch, let alone wear. The sight of it filled her with conflicting emotions, excitement at the thought of stepping into a world she’d only seen in magazines, and dread at the realization that she didn’t belong there.

"What if I embarrass her?"

The thought crept in unbidden, making her chest tighten. Giselle had been clear, this was business. A performance. Mistakes weren’t an option.

The hours leading up to the event passed in a blur. Y/N barely had time to think as a team of stylists and makeup artists descended upon her room, transforming her into someone she barely recognized.

A stylist stood behind her, carefully curling her hair into sleek waves that fell over her shoulders like liquid silk. The faint smell of hairspray lingered in the air, mixing with the soft hum of conversation from the team. A makeup artist leaned in close, her brush sweeping over Y/N’s cheekbones to highlight them with a subtle glow.

“Hold still,” the artist murmured, tilting Y/N’s chin slightly as she worked on her eyeliner.

Y/N obeyed, her thoughts spinning as she stared at her reflection. The girl in the mirror didn’t look like her. She looked polished, sophisticated, a version of herself that belonged in Giselle’s world. But beneath the makeup and carefully styled hair, Y/N still felt like an outsider.

When the team finally stepped back, murmuring their approval, Y/N slipped into the gown. The cool fabric slid over her skin, fitting her perfectly. The weight of it settled around her like a reminder of the role she had to play.

She took a tentative step toward the full length mirror, her breath catching as she saw herself fully for the first time. The emerald gown clung to her figure in all the right places, the shimmering material accentuating her every movement.

“You look incredible,” one of the stylists said, their voice filled with genuine admiration.

Y/N gave a small nod, her lips curving into a polite smile, but inside, her nerves were fraying.

When she finally stepped out of her room and went into the living room, she froze.

Giselle was waiting for her, standing by the massive windows that framed the glittering city skyline. She was breathtaking.

The CEO was dressed in a fitted black evening dress that hugged her figure with an elegance that seemed effortless. The gown’s neckline plunged just enough to command attention, while the intricate detailing along the sides shimmered faintly under the light. Her dark hair perfectly straightened, framing her face.

For a moment, Y/N forgot to breathe.

Giselle turned at the sound of Y/N’s heels clicking softly against the floor. Her sharp gaze swept over Y/N from head to toe, taking in every detail with a calculating air.

“You’ll do,” Giselle said simply, her tone brisk but not unkind. She extended her arm. “Let’s go.”

Y/N hesitated for a fraction of a second before looping her arm through Giselle’s. The contact sent a jolt through her, but she quickly steadied herself, her heart pounding as they walked toward the elevator.

The mirrored walls of the elevator reflected their image back at them. Y/N glanced at their reflections, Giselle, poised and commanding, and herself, trying not to let her nerves show.

“Smile,” Giselle said softly, her voice low but firm.

Y/N turned her lips up into a small, tentative smile, hoping it would be enough.

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped into the underground garage, where a black car was waiting for them. As they approached, the driver opened the door, bowing slightly as he gestured for them to enter.

Y/N slid into the car first, her gown rustling softly against the leather seat. Giselle followed, settling beside her with the kind of grace Y/N could only dream of emulating.

As the car drove further into the city, Y/N stared out of the window, her fingers tightening in her lap. The city lights blurred together, their glow reflecting in the glass.

Tonight, she would step into Giselle’s world, a world of power, elegance, and scrutiny.

Her heart pounded with anticipation and fear.

The car was enveloped in a heavy silence, broken only by the faint hum of the engine and the occasional soft sound of the tires rolling over uneven pavement. The dim glow of passing street lights flickered across the interior, casting fleeting shadows on the leather seats.

Giselle sat beside Y/N, her posture impeccable as always, her gaze fixed on the window. She seemed completely at ease, her sharp features illuminated by the city lights streaking past. To Y/N, Giselle’s composure felt almost otherworldly, a stark contrast to the storm of nerves building in her own chest.

Y/N reached into her bag and pulled out her phone, clutching it tightly as if the device might somehow anchor her racing thoughts. Her fingers hovered over the notes app. She wanted to type something, anything, to break the silence. But what could she say? Giselle had made it clear that this was business, and Y/N worried that even the smallest misstep might chip away at the carefully constructed façade they were about to present.

Her thumb brushed the screen, but before she could decide, the car began to slow.

After putting her phone back in the bag, Y/N’s breath hitched as she looked out the window. The grand entrance of the venue loomed ahead, its golden lights spilling onto the red carpet that stretched toward the towering double doors. Paparazzi crowded the sides, their cameras already flashing like strobe lights in the dark. The muffled hum of voices filtered into the car, growing louder with each passing second.

The driver exited and circled around to Giselle’s door, pulling it open with practiced precision.

Giselle moved first.

As she stepped out of the car, her expression transformed in an instant. The cool detachment she had worn moments ago melted away, replaced by a radiant smile that lit up her face. It was as though she had flipped a switch, her entire demeanor shifting to exude warmth and confidence.

Y/N watched in awe, momentarily stunned by the sheer charisma Giselle seemed to radiate. This was the Giselle the world knew, the poised, charming CEO who could command attention with just a glance.

Giselle turned, extending a hand toward Y/N.

“Ready?” she asked, her voice warm and inviting, as though she had been waiting for this moment all her life.

Y/N hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. She slipped her hand into Giselle’s, the coolness of Giselle’s skin sending a small jolt through her. She pushed the feeling aside as she shifted toward the open door.

The moment her feet touched the ground, the flashes erupted in a frenzy. The noise was deafening, cameras clicking, voices shouting questions, the murmur of admiration spreading through the crowd.

“Giselle, who’s your stunning date?” “Giselle, over here! Look this way!” “You two look incredible!”

The chaos of the moment was overwhelming, and for a second, Y/N froze, her body stiffening under the onslaught of attention.

Giselle’s grip on her hand tightened slightly, grounding her. The older woman leaned in just enough for her voice to reach Y/N’s ear without being overheard.

“Remember to smile,” Giselle murmured, her tone low and intimate, as though they were sharing a private joke. “They’re watching everything.”

Y/N nodded, forcing her lips to curve into a soft smile. Her heart raced as the cameras continued to flash, capturing every step they took together.

Giselle’s hand rested lightly on the small of Y/N’s back as she guided her down the carpet, her movements fluid and confident. She stopped occasionally to pose, her expression never faltering, her smile effortlessly charming.

Y/N followed her lead, doing her best to mimic Giselle’s ease. The weight of the ring on her finger felt heavier now, a tangible reminder of the role she was playing. She glanced briefly at Giselle, who turned to meet her gaze with a look so convincing, so full of warmth and affection, that Y/N almost believed it herself.

As they posed for photos, Giselle’s hand lingered on Y/N’s waist, her fingers brushing the fabric of her gown. Y/N’s cheeks burned under the scrutiny of the cameras and the admiring whispers of the onlookers.

“She’s stunning, Giselle!” someone called out from the crowd.

“Congratulations to the happy couple!”

Y/N’s smile faltered for a brief moment, but Giselle’s subtle squeeze on her hand brought her back to focus. She took a deep breath, her lips curving again as she stood a little straighter.

Finally they reached the doors of the venue, a staff member opened them with a bow, gesturing for the pair to step inside. The noise from the paparazzi faded slightly, replaced by the hum of conversation and the soft strains of a live string quartet playing in the background.

Giselle turned her head slightly, her lips brushing close to Y/N’s ear as she spoke. “That’s the easy part. Now the real work begins.”

Y/N’s heart sank slightly at the words, but she nodded, her fingers tightening around her purse. The cameras outside might have stopped, but inside, the eyes of the city’s elite were already on them.

When they stepped into the grand hall, Y/N felt every gaze in the room land on her. Her smile remained, but the weight of their attention was suffocating.

Giselle led her further into the room, her hand never leaving Y/N’s back. To the world, they looked every bit the perfect couple. Poised, elegant, and untouchable.

Inside, Y/N’s nerves roared, but she kept moving forward, staying close to Giselle. She reminded herself again of why she was here, of the family she was doing this for, and of the promise she had made to herself:

The venue was even more dazzling than Y/N had imagined. The grand hall seemed to glow, its golden lights reflecting off the cascading crystal chandeliers that dripped from the vaulted ceiling. Every detail spoke of extravagance, from the polished marble floors to the intricate floral arrangements that adorned each table. The faint sound of a string quartet filled the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation.

Y/N’s breath hitched as she took it all in. This was a world she had only ever glimpsed through the glossy pages of magazines. Everywhere she looked, people moved with an effortless confidence, their designer gowns and tailored suits exuding wealth and influence.

Giselle’s hand rested lightly on Y/N’s back, the subtle pressure a constant reminder of her presence. It was an unfamiliar gesture, not cold, but not exactly comforting either. It was calculated, like everything else about Giselle.

They moved through the crowd together, Giselle’s elegance and poise drawing every eye in the room. Heads turned as they passed, whispers trailing in their wake.

“Is that Giselle Uchinaga?” “And who’s she with?”

Giselle handled it all effortlessly, her charming smile never faltering as she exchanged pleasantries with the city’s elite. Her voice was warm and polished, every word perfectly chosen to leave a lasting impression.

“This is Y/N,” Giselle said smoothly as they stopped to greet a particularly curious couple. Her hand lingered on Y/N’s waist as she added, “My fiancée.”

The words sent a ripple of surprise through Y/N, even though she had known they were coming. It was the first time she’d heard Giselle introduce her that way, and it felt strange, like a borrowed identity she wasn’t sure how to wear.

As the conversation continued, Giselle effortlessly guided it, ensuring that Y/N wasn’t left behind. She wove their story together with precision, painting a picture of a devoted couple with a seamless blend of truth and fabrication.

“She’s been an inspiration to me,” Giselle said at one point, her voice carrying just enough sincerity to make the lie convincing. “Her strength, her resilience, it’s one of the things I admire most about her.”

Y/N glanced at Giselle, her heart twisting at the ease with which she spoke. It was all an act, of course, but Giselle played the part so well that even Y/N found herself momentarily believing it.

A small group began to form around them, drawn by Giselle’s magnetism and curiosity about her fiancée. Y/N responded with simple gestures and soft smiles, her hands moving in small, precise motions whenever someone asked a question she could answer through sign language.

“She’s charming,” someone murmured from the group.

“Giselle’s so protective of her,” another whispered.

The words floated around Y/N like a cloud, both flattering and suffocating. She focused on keeping her smile in place, knowing that every movement was being scrutinized.

The chatter of the crowd had softened to a hum, the buzz of voices fading as the evening began to wind down. Y/N found herself drawn to one of the grand windows that stretched from floor to ceiling. The view was breathtaking, a vast expanse of glittering city lights that seemed to stretch endlessly, like a sea of stars scattered across the night.

She pressed her fingertips lightly against the cool glass, her reflection faintly visible against the dazzling skyline. For a moment, she allowed herself to breathe, her chest rising and falling in a slow, deliberate rhythm. This quiet moment felt like a fragile bubble, separate from the noise and expectations of the evening.

Her eyes dropped to the diamond ring on her finger. It caught the faint glow of the lights outside, its brilliance reflecting in the glass. She lifted her hands to adjust it, the smooth band sliding slightly against her skin.

The weight of it was grounding, a constant reminder of the performance demanded perfection, every movement, every smile, every interaction carefully measured to fit the image Giselle wanted to project.

Y/N’s chest tightened slightly as she stared at the ring. "This is my life now," she thought. A life of pretending, of fitting into a world that didn’t feel like hers.

The sound of footsteps behind her broke her reverie, the sharp yet soft rhythm unmistakable. Y/N didn’t turn right away. She didn’t need to. Giselle moved with a kind of precision that was impossible to miss, her presence filling the space without effort.

“Tired?” Giselle’s voice was low, pitched just enough for Y/N to hear and no one else. There was no warmth in it, but it wasn’t cold either, it was neutral, like an observation rather than a question.

Y/N turned to face her, her gaze meeting Giselle’s. The older woman’s expression was as composed as ever, her sharp eyes studying Y/N with an intensity that made her chest flutter uncomfortably.

For a moment, Y/N hesitated, unsure how to answer. Her hands instinctively moved to sign, but she stopped mid motion, her stomach twisting. "She doesn’t understand," Y/N reminded herself.

Instead, she nodded, a small, hesitant motion.

Giselle’s lips pressed into a thin line. Her expression didn’t shift, but something flickered in her gaze, a brief, almost imperceptible pause as though she were processing the unspoken response.

“We’ll leave soon,” Giselle said, her tone neutral, as though discussing a routine matter.

For a moment, Y/N thought that was the end of the conversation. But then Giselle added, almost as an afterthought, “You handled tonight well.”

The unexpected comment made Y/N blink, her lips parting slightly in surprise. She had expected critique, not praise, and the words, however simple, made her stomach twist with something she couldn’t quite name.

Her mouth opened as if to respond, but she closed it again, unsure what to do. Instead, she offered a small, uncertain smile, hoping it would suffice.

Giselle’s gaze lingered for a moment longer before she turned away slightly, slipping seamlessly back into her composed demeanor. “We can’t go yet. Not before we say goodbye to the hosts,” she said.

Giselle extended her arm, her posture as poised and effortless as always. Y/N hesitated for a heartbeat before looping her arm through Giselle’s. The contact was still unfamiliar, but it steadied her, giving her a sense of direction as they moved back toward the crowd.

As they walked, Y/N caught glimpses of people turning to look at them, their gazes lingering with admiration and curiosity.

“You’re doing fine,” Giselle murmured under her breath, her voice so low it was almost lost in the hum of the room.

Y/N glanced up at her, catching the way Giselle’s eyes remained forward, her expression unreadable. Was that reassurance? A reminder to stay in character? She couldn’t tell.

The hosts stood near the center of the room. The couple, a man in a sharp tuxedo and a woman in a flowing burgundy gown, exchanged delighted glances. Their smiles widened as Giselle and Y/N approached, and Giselle’s charm seemed to amplify.

“A pleasure to meet you,” the man said, extending a hand toward Y/N.

Y/N hesitated for a brief moment, then reached out and shook his hand, offering a polite smile. Her voice might have been silent, but she had learned long ago how to let her body language speak for her.

Sensing the unspoken question in their expressions, Giselle spoke up. “Y/N doesn’t speak,” she explained gently, her tone perfectly pitched to avoid making it seem like an inconvenience. “But she communicates beautifully in other ways.”

The woman’s curious expression softened into something warmer. “Oh, how lovely,” she said. “Do you use sign language?”

Y/N nodded, her movements measured and fluid. She lifted her hands and signed a response, her fingers forming the words. “Yes, I do.”

The woman’s eyes lit up, and she signed back slowly, her movements deliberate but kind. “Your dress is lovely.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a genuine smile, her hands moving again. “Thank you. Yours is beautiful too.”

The woman’s expression softened, her smile widening. “She’s wonderful,” she said to Giselle.

“She is,” Giselle replied, her voice carrying just the right amount of affection to make the act convincing. “I’m lucky to have her.”

The words hung in the air, stirring something in Y/N that she couldn’t quite name.

Before leaving, Giselle exchanged a few polite words with the hosts, her poised demeanor drawing admiration. Once their brief conversation concluded, she maintained her air of elegance, guiding Y/N with a light touch on her back.

The whispers followed them out, blending with the fading music and laughter.

When they reached the car, Giselle opened the door for Y/N, the action smooth and automatic.

As Y/N slipped inside, she caught a final glimpse of the grand venue. She exhaled softly, her body sinking into the leather seat as Giselle slid in beside her.

The door shut, sealing them in silence once more.

By the time they returned to the penthouse, Y/N felt like she could finally breathe again. The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and she stepped out into the expansive living room, her legs aching from the unfamiliar heels and her face sore from maintaining a perfect smile all evening.

The silence of the penthouse enveloped her immediately, stark and unyielding compared to the vibrant hum of the event. The cold, polished surfaces of the furniture and the vast emptiness of the space made it feel less like a home and more like a museum.

Giselle, however, looked as composed as ever. Her expression was unreadable, and her posture as impeccable as it had been when they left. She strode into the living room with the same controlled grace she always carried, her movements precise and deliberate.

“Good work tonight,” Giselle said, her back still to Y/N. Her voice was calm, devoid of the warmth she had displayed at the event. The affectionate tone and radiant smiles were gone, replaced by the cool professionalism Y/N had come to expect. “The media will eat it up.”

Y/N hesitated in the doorway, her fingers brushing against the strap of her clutch. Her phone felt heavy in her hand as she pulled it out and began typing, each word deliberate and slow.

“Do you think they believed us?”

Y/N stepped closer and lightly tapped Giselle on the shoulder to get her attention. Giselle turned, her sharp gaze locking onto Y/N’s. For a moment, she said nothing, her eyes scanning Y/N’s face as though searching for something. Then, with a faint nod, she replied, “Of course. They believe what they see.”

Her tone was matter of fact, but there was an edge to her words, a quiet confidence that left no room for doubt.

Y/N nodded slowly, her chest tightening as she typed another message.

“You’re very convincing.”

Giselle’s lips curved into a faint smirk, the expression barely touching her eyes. “It’s what I do,” she said simply, as though her ability to manipulate perception was as natural as breathing. Without another word, she turned and strode past Y/N, disappearing into her private quarters.

Left alone in the vast emptiness of the penthouse, Y/N remained standing near the elevator, her phone still in her hand. The cold, clinical silence of the space pressed down on her, amplifying the faint hum of the city outside.

Y/N sank onto the couch slowly, her body sagging under the weight of the evening. The cushion beneath her felt far too soft, the stark contrast to the hardness of the night catching her off guard. She slipped off her heels, letting them drop to the floor with a soft thud. Her bare feet tingled as they pressed against the cool surface of the rug, a small relief from the ache that had settled in her legs.

For a moment, Y/N stared down at her phone, her thumb hovering over the notes app icon. Her mind replayed the night’s events in vivid detail, Giselle’s touch on her back, the way she had leaned in with whispered reassurances, the convincing affection in her gaze as she introduced Y/N to the crowd.

It had all felt so real.

But now, in the cold emptiness of the penthouse, the illusion was gone. The Giselle who had smiled at her so warmly, who had acted as though Y/N were the center of her world, had vanished the moment they’d stepped through the door.

The disconnect left a hollow ache in Y/N’s chest. She had known it was an act, of course, but seeing the shift so starkly still unsettled her.

Y/N opened the notes app and stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the distance.

Finally, she typed a single sentence.

“I’ll keep up the act.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stared at the words, the weight of their meaning settling over her. She didn’t have the luxury of faltering. Her family was depending on her. For them, she would endure the coldness of this world, the carefully constructed lies, and the unrelenting presence of Giselle’s scrutiny.

With a heavy exhale, she closed the app and set her phone down on the coffee table.

Her gaze drifted toward the window, where the city lights twinkled in the distance. They felt so far away, as though they belonged to another life entirely. A life where she didn’t have to carry this weight, where she wasn’t bound by a contract or a diamond ring.

But that life wasn’t hers.

Sliding back against the cushions, Y/N closed her eyes. The quiet of the penthouse seemed colder now, but she reminded herself of the promise she had made.

"For my family," she thought.

And as the tension in her body eased slightly, she let herself drift into an uneasy sleep, the weight of the diamond ring still heavy on her finger.

#kpop imagines #girl group imagines #gg x reader #kpop x reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #giselle x fem reader #aespa giselle x reader #giselle x reader #giselle uchinaga x reader #a contract of silence

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snoringkitty1 · 10 months ago

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Aventurine boyfriend Headcanons

TW: Fluff, not proofread, Mildly suggestive content. Enjoy <3

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.•

Aventurine at the beginning of your relationship is a flirty bastard, he'll tease you to high hell and leave you high and dry for his own amusement.

There is 0 initial affection, he's only in it for his entertainment or because he has something to gamble or get from you.

Kisses you with his eyes open, atleast at the start.

But gradually, when you realizes you won't be leaving because of his lack of effort, he might just soften up and start to let his guard down a little.

Though of course this is after a while, but you'll start to see the more vulnerable and faint side to him.

He'll become more affectionate gradually the more he begins to trust you with his feelings, though, it still might take a while. Patience is key.

He's still flirty no doubt, but now there's actually feelings and meaning to his words, and they aren't bluffs anymore.

His sense of fashion may or may not rub off on you..aka he forces you to wear matching clothes, it makes him feel special.

"Do i really need to where this..? Matching outfits are so tacky." You grumbled and adjusted the hat on your head before sighing and taking it off, running your fingers along the rim and raising a brow. "Well, you don't need to, but i would love you more if you did." He joked and fixed a few details on your jacket before taking the hat from your hands and setting it on your head. "You don't love me enough already?" You pouted and looked up at him. He smiled and shook his head, pulling you close for a kiss, his hands holding tight onto your waist as he trapped you in a kiss. "I love you~" He cooed softly and leaned back, "Some matching clothes won't change that." he assured and rubbed your cheek before stepping back and putting his hands in his pockets, "now~ shall we?"

The king of shopping dates, if you don't like shopping though, then the two of you will probably be having at home dates most of the time.

But don't think for a second he isn't buying the most delectable (and expensive) food he can find, because to him, if its clothes, food, hair, nails, you name it. He thinks you're a worthy investment (he just likes to spend money on you.)

Speaking of giving presents, thats simply his love language, because i reckon he feels like if he gives enough, then he won't have to worry about you leaving him.

That being said, he'll need a bunch of reassurance to stop giving random super expensive presents. He'll still give you some regardless but he'll tone it down significantly.

He comes off as the kind of guy who only gives or takes longer kisses, to me atleast.

He might use this to his advantage if he perhaps gets jealous, which i think happens pretty often.

But i think there's also a chance of him just absolutely demolishing you once you two are home behind closed doors.

Switch energy, but can and will top when he feels like it.

He'll let you decide the pace though, he doesn't want intimate moments to feel transactional.

Afterwards, i Dunno i feel like he'd just fall asleep with you, then take of you the next morning.

You rolled away onto your stomach..or tried to, the tight grip of a certain blonde kept you from moving too far away. When you let out an uncomfortable grunt though, Aventurine was quick to let go and sit up to check on you. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, smiling a little before closing them again, "I'm fine, i'm fine.." you mumbled softly, but that didn't deter him. He leaned down and kissed your cheek before getting up, you opened your eyes and sat up on your elbows to watch him, he disappeared into the closet briefly and returned with one of his shirts. "Here you go Darling~" he cooed softly and held the shirt out from you, his messy bed head framed his face nicely. "ah..thank you-" you smiled and put it on before flopping back again. "Anything else i can get you? I can order food, or make bre-" He paused when you pulled him close all of a sudden. "Just cuddle with me for a little bit.." You muttered softly, and He nodded, pulling you close again..and like that, you two were cozy and asleep in minutes.

Thanks for reading.

#fluff #boyfriend #headcanon #honkai star rail #x reader #hsr x reader #Aventurine #Aventurine x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #hsr x you #hsr aventurine #hsr #penacony #star rail #fanfiction #Comfort

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lxkeee · 1 year ago

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END GAME

PART TWO

pairing: lucifer x fallen angel! fem! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: fluff

warnings: no warnings yet.

notes: very feral for this man and this is multishot fic and would be writing a smut for this. Reader is close to his age (probably a hundred years younger but meh)

additional notes: just because there are moments where Lucifer seems to be flustered or like mesmerized by the reader, it doesn't mean he already has a crush. It just means that he's been alone for so long that anyone who's gorgeous would make him get flustered cuz it's been awhile since he socialized with others lmfao. I am planning to make their relationship slowly bloom cuz why not?

PART ONE | PART THREE

“The name's Lucifer Morningstar, welcome to hell.” the light blond haired man said with slight smile and [y/n] can feel her jaw dropped. This is the first fallen angel? The king of hell? Very pale skin, short stature, pink cheeks, attractive. [Y/n] believes that the stories from ancient heavenly scrolls didn't do him any justice.

Lucifer just gave her a small toothy grin as he watched the awe look on her face as he leans his body against the door frame, crossing his arms as he looked at her. “You're Lucifer...?” she asked softly, looking at him with slight doubt and he nodded, “Indeed I am darling.” he replied with a grin, almost a smirk.

“You're much shorter than I thought you would be.” [y/n] says looking at him and Lucifer felt like an arrow was shot into his heart, if she stood next to him it would be guaranteed that she'll be looking down on him literally, “Though, I do believe that the heavenly scrolls did not do you any justice. You are prettier than how the scrolls describe you to be.” she says with a grin, crossing her arms on her chest as Lucifer just looked at her, blinking slowly as the red of his cheeks darkened slightly.

I swear to me, why is she so bold? He asked himself mentally.

He cleared his throat before eventually looking back at her, “Are you normally this bold to strangers?” he asked with a deadpan and [y/n] snorted a little, “Usually, I'm more.” she replied and Lucifer had to take a deep breather as he mumbled “Jesus...” underneath his breath making the woman chuckle.

[y/n] haven't paid him any mind, chuckling slightly to see the ruler of hell to be easily flustered. “I assumed you healed me? How long was I out?” she asked him, deciding to stop teasing the poor man. Lucifer managed to calm himself down, adjusting the collar to his suit, “Yes, you have crashed into my front yard but don't mind about it. You've been in a coma for almost... Three weeks.” he replied before eventually walking towards her and sat on the bed. His expression softened as his hand grazed over her shoulder blades, “They really cut off your wings...” he muttered softly and she just sighed, “Indeed they did.”

Deciding not to make her uncomfortable, he removed his hand from her shoulders, “If you don't mind me asking, what happened?” he asked and she gently lied down on to the bed, avoiding his gaze.

“Heaven was suffocating. Too many rules and I began to question them.” she replied softly and Lucifer just nodded in understanding, “I would probably have been bearable if I was allowed to punch Adam occasionally but nope.” she jokes slightly, making the light blond haired fallen angel chuckle, “Indeed.” he says softly making the woman giggle. Lucifer then gave her a raised eyebrow, “I think now's the time I catch the name of the person I took care of for almost three weeks. Hmm?” he asked with a slight hum. [Y/n] smiled before returning back to her sitting position, extending her hand for a handshake, “My name is [Y/n] [l/n], it is a pleasure to meet you.” she says and Lucifer smiled and held her hand and gave her knuckle a chaste kiss, “The pleasure is all mine.”

[y/n] just chuckles as he lets go of her hand, “As expected, you really are charming.” she says making Lucifer laugh slightly, “Thank you, now.” he says before clapping his hands together, “Since you are new here, I assume that you don't have anywhere to stay. How about you work for me? You are a fallen angel so I know you are powerful. So what do you say?” he asked, extending his hand with a slight smirk. [Y/n] looked at his hand with a raised eyebrow and with a small teasing smile.

“A deal with the devil...? What's the catch?” she asked, crossing her arms making Lucifer chuckle, “This isn't the usual deal where you sell your soul to me, that kind of deal requires a contract with your signature of consent. This is just a normal deal for you to work and be my assistant while getting a place to stay in return.” he explained, despite the smirk on his face, [y/n] cannot sense deception from the man. She sighs before eventually shaking his hand.

“You got yourself a deal, Lucifer.” she says making the king of hell smirk, “You won't regret it.”

end notes: and I worked like a doggg day and night 😭

#Spotify #lucifer morningstar x reader #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer #“END GAME” — LUCIFER X READER

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carefreehomefurnishings · 1 month ago

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Shop Platform Bed Frames & Adjustable Bed Bases | Carefree Home Furnishings

#platform bed frame #adjustable bed base #wood frame beds #bed frame for adjustable bed #king adjustable base #upholstered bed frame queen #Carefree Home Furnishings

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mattsobvimyfav · 22 days ago

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American wedding (Matthew Sturniiolo)

The hotel room was extravagant, with sweeping windows that framed the glittering city skyline. It was the kind of place y/n's parents wouldn’t question when it showed up on their credit card bill—they’d assume it was another innocent dinner or a shopping spree. But y/n was sprawled across the king-sized bed in nothing but a black lace bra and underwear, her laughter echoing through the room.

Matt stood near the window, his old-fashioned camera in hand. He looked at her with that rare, unguarded grin that made him seem younger, softer—like a completely different version of the boy everyone thought they knew.

“Stop moving,” he teased, his tone lazy but full of affection. “You’re ruining the lighting.”

Y/n threw a pillow at him, laughing as she shifted her pose. She stretched out on the bed, her hair spilling over the edge, her arms outstretched like a queen on her throne. “You’re lucky I’m letting you take these pictures at all, Matthew,” she shot back, her eyes sparkling.

“And you’re lucky I’m an artist,” he countered, lifting the camera and snapping another photo.

The camera clicked, the flash illuminating her skin. He stepped closer, kneeling on the edge of the bed now, his knee brushing against hers as he adjusted the focus. She watched him, her heart beating faster under his gaze.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, almost too quietly, like the words had escaped before he could stop them.

Y/n’s cheeks flushed, and she reached out, cupping his face and pulling him toward her. His lips found hers, soft and urgent, tasting faintly of Coke and the faint bitterness of cigarettes. Her fingers tangled in his hair as his hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer.

He pulled back suddenly, his light eyes searching hers. “We should do it,” he said, his voice steady but filled with a kind of reckless excitement.

She blinked at him, breathless. “Do what?”

“Get married,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “First thing tomorrow. Let’s go to the courthouse and make it official.”

For a moment, the words hung between them, and then y/n’s face broke into a wide, incredulous grin. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” Matt said, his smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You and me. No one else. Just like it has been.”

Without thinking, y/n shot up from the bed, bouncing on the mattress like an overexcited kid. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” she shouted, throwing her arms in the air.

Matt laughed, reaching up and grabbing her arm to pull her back down. She collapsed onto the bed beside him, her laughter bubbling up again as he hovered over her, his lips brushing against her cheek, her nose, her forehead—every inch of her face.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with more emotion than he usually let himself show.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her hands gripping his shirt like she never wanted to let go.

And in that moment, with the city lights glowing around them and the world outside feeling miles away, it was just the two of them, completely untouchable.

"I had a hell of a summer," I say, my lips curving into that smile Matt’s always said he can’t get enough of. "So, baby, don’t take this hard, but... maybe we should get an annulment before this goes way too far."

The words hang in the air, and for a second, all I can hear is the faint hum of the Mustang’s engine. Matt’s hands are still on the steering wheel, his knuckles white against the black leather. He doesn’t look at me, not at first. He just stares straight ahead like if he ignores me long enough, maybe the words will evaporate.

Then, finally, he speaks.

"Are you kidding me?" His voice is low, tight, like he’s trying to hold it together and barely succeeding.

"Matt—"

He cuts me off with a sharp laugh, shaking his head as he puts the car in reverse and backs out of the illegal parking faster than he should. “No, don’t ‘Matt’ me right now. You seriously thought this was the best time to drop that on me?”

I bite my lip, guilt gnawing at the edges of my resolve. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that—”

“But it did,” he snaps, shifting gears and peeling out of the back of the school. “It came out exactly like that.”

I sink into the passenger seat, watching the scenery blur past as he speeds through town. Matt doesn’t say anything else, but the tension in the car is suffocating. He’s gripping the wheel so hard it’s a wonder he doesn’t snap it in half, and his jaw is clenched tight enough to crack a tooth.

When he finally slows down, I realize where he’s heading before we even get there. The hotel. Our hotel. The place where everything started.

He pulls into the side lot, parking in the shadow of the building like we always did to avoid being seen. He kills the engine, the silence roaring in my ears as he turns to me, his light eyes flashing with anger and hurt.

“You really wanna do this here?” he asks, his voice cold and sharp, cutting through me like a knife.

I cross my arms, trying to steady myself. “I didn’t pick this place—you did.”

“Yeah, because I’m not the one throwing away everything we’ve built like it’s nothing,” he shoots back, his voice rising. “You wanna tell me what the fuck changed? Because two months ago, you couldn’t wait to be my wife. You were literally jumping on the bed screaming yes, remember that?”

“Of course, I remember!” I snap, my voice breaking. “How could I forget? But that was summer, Matt. It was... it was perfect. And now we’re back, and it’s like reality is crashing down on us. My parents don’t even know. We’re eighteen! We’re kids playing house, and it’s not real.”

“It felt real to me,” he says, his voice quieter now, but somehow that makes it worse.

“It was real,” I say, my throat tight. “It’s not about that. It’s about... it’s about what happens next. What happens when my parents find out? When college starts? When we have to figure out how to actually be married? We didn’t think this through, Matt.”

“Speak for yourself,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “I thought it through. I thought about it every damn day. You think I don’t know it’s not gonna be easy? You think I care?”

I don’t have an answer for that, and the silence stretches between us, heavy and unbearable.

Matt finally looks at me, his eyes searching mine. “So, what? That’s it? We’re just done? You’re done?”

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat almost choking me. “I don’t know,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “I just know... this isn’t what I imagined. I’m scared, Matt.”

“Yeah, well, so am I,” he says, leaning back in his seat, his voice hollow. “But I thought we were supposed to figure it out together. Isn’t that the whole point?”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. He’s right, of course he’s right. But that only makes this hurt worse.

Matt leans back in his seat, his head resting against the edge of the headrest, and then his gaze drops to his hand. His thumb brushes over the tattooed wedding band inked onto his skin—a decision he called impulsive but never regretted.

“Got a wedding band on I just might die with,” he mutters, his voice thick with pain, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Without you? I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

I stare at him, my chest tightening like there’s a weight pressing on it. I never meant for this to hurt him like this, but watching him now, I realize there’s no way it couldn’t.

“Matt...” I start, my voice trembling. “I love you. God, I love you so much. But this—what if we’re just setting ourselves up to crash and burn? What if we’re not ready?”

He doesn’t answer right away. He just sits there, staring at his hand, his jaw tightening. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, edged with something raw.

“Jesus Christ, don’t break my heart,” he says, his voice cracking on the last word. “This wedding ring? It won’t ever wipe off. But if you stay... fuck, you’ll probably leave anyway, won’t you?”

His words hit me like a slap, and I feel my eyes sting with tears I’ve been trying to hold back. I reach for him, grabbing his hand and holding it between both of mine. “Matt, that’s not fair,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I just—I don’t know if I can be enough for you. You’re all in, and I feel like I’m barely holding on. What if I let you down?”

“You won’t,” he says instantly, his eyes finally locking on mine. “You think I don’t see how scared you are? I’m scared too. But y/n, I’d rather do this scared with you than spend one more second without you.”

Tears spill over, and I choke out a laugh, shaking my head. 'You make it so damn hard to walk away, you know that?'

'Good,' he says, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. 'Because I’m not letting you walk away without a fight.'

I swallow hard, the weight of his words settling heavy in my chest. 'But your parents don’t even know,' I murmur, my voice trembling. 'Your brothers don’t know. No one at school even knows we’re... we’re a thing. What are we going to do, just drop this bomb on everyone?'

He hesitates, his brow furrowing as his gaze flickers down to my hands. His jaw tightens, and the smile slips from his face. 'You’re not wearing it,' he says, his voice quieter now, almost disbelieving.

I follow his gaze, my stomach knotting when I see my bare ring finger. The space where my wedding ring should be, feels as exposed as if I were standing there without my skin.

'I... I didn’t think it was a good idea,' I stammer, my pulse quickening.

His eyes snap back up to mine, searching, questioning. 'Didn’t think it was a good idea or didn’t want people to know?'

The question hangs in the air, thick and suffocating. I feel the burn of fresh tears threatening to spill and look away, unable to face the hurt I know is there. 'It’s not that simple,' I whisper.

"'Then make it simple,' he says. 'Do you want people to know or not? Do you want this—want us—or are you already walking away without even telling me?'

His words slice through me, and for a moment, all I can do is sit there, drowning in the ache of his voice and the unspoken fear that he might be right.

'It’s not about what I want,' I finally manage, my voice barely above a whisper.

'Then what is it about?' he presses, his gaze piercing.

I hesitate, my hands twisting together nervously. 'I just... it’s complicated. You know that.'

His jaw tightens, and he runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. 'What’s complicated? The fact that I don’t fit into your perfect little world?'

I flinch, the unspoken truth of his words cutting deep. 'That’s not fair,' I murmur, avoiding his eyes.

'Isn’t it?' he challenges, 'Look at you, like you’re ashamed to even be seen with me. You think I don’t notice the way you look over your shoulder, like you’re scared someone’s going to find out?'

I swallow hard, guilt twisting in my stomach. 'That’s not... I just don’t want to make things harder for either of us,' I say, but the words sound hollow even to my own ears.

He studies me for a moment, his eyes dark with something I can’t quite name. 'Do you hear yourself right now? You’re so worried about what everyone else thinks, but have you even stopped to think about what we want? What I want?'

I look down, unable to meet his gaze. My silence hangs between us like a confession.

He sighs, shaking his head. 'I get it,' he says softly, his voice laced with hurt. 'You’re the golden girl, the one who’s supposed to have it all together. And me... well, I’m just the guy everyone’s already written off.'

'That’s not true,' I say quickly, finally looking up at him. But the way his lips press into a thin line tells me he doesn’t believe me.

'Isn’t it?' he asks again, his tone quieter now, almost resigned. 'I just need to know, right here, right now—if I fight for this, for us, are you going to fight too? Or are you already looking for the nearest exit?'

His words hang in the air, heavy and raw, and I feel the tears sting my eyes again. I want to answer, to give him the reassurance he deserves, but the truth is, I don’t know if I have the strength to tear down the walls I’ve spent so long building.

a/n- for fun ig

#nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #american wedding #sturniolo triplets

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the-monkeies-girl · 6 months ago

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'come back' this 'why dont you just quit' that SHUT UP ART TAKES TIME and i'M GOING THROUGH STUFF. I swear I'm working on stuff for other characters Caesar is my comfort CHARACTER THO.

Before the Sun.

Caesar was teetering between deep sleep and a lucid state, the fluttering of his eyelids were indicative of that. A soft smile tugged its way onto your expression, fallen with slumber itself as you had only just woken up a minute prior. The Ape King was vulnerable, or at least so you thought as your stare studied the way Caesar was resting on his stomach, his shoulders rising and falling with an inclined pace of drowsiness. It was rare in and of itself to see the broad body of him sleeping, every carnal and primal intent seeped out of the very tips of his fur the night before casting in you in a naked hue beside him.

He never slid his entire large frame on your side, save for the usual arm that was spread against your roused body, ultimately keeping you pinned between the rippled muscles under his thickened furred forearm and the animal hides that helped cushion the nest below on your back.

It was hard to see the angles of his face much to your displeasure as the dawn had yet to crest itself into the shared bed bringing with it the first morning light that played shadows of delicacies against Caesar’s already sharpened features. Instead, you found your fingers dragging against the grain of Caesar’s furred arm, upwards towards his bicep, never admitting that you longed to have him awake but that was the intent deep inside of your dozy train of thought.

There was a grumble of a baritone from the Ape beside you. “You… should be sleeping…” “I could say the same.” The retort you had was quick as if you anticipated his words, a smile of acute fondness taking hold against the edges of your lips. Caesar processed your words slowly, hearing the infliction you had used and without even looking towards you, he was able to deduce that you had been smiling. Something he himself desired to see. The Chimp was still lingering in a dream-state as he rolled his gaze open just long enough to make minor eye contact that cause you to yearn to see the green-gold of his irises looking at you and only you as if it were the first time making such intimate contact in the first place. It felt ardent and aggressive, the way that your heart fluttered against your ribcage with his next words, the deep richness like silken honey enough to keep you captivated. “Hm… Council meeting… This morning. Must… Wake soon.”

The words made sense but you were unwilling to waver to them as did Caesar as you were pulled inwards towards him. As if the 'C' shaped position he held his hand against your exposed skin, exploding the nerves to the point of exasperated goosebumps, was gravity itself and you found it difficult not to help the equation by rolling and bringing your face into his neck. You could almost feel the movement of the ripping muscles of Caesar's jugular as he adjusted his head for your placement, always happy and fulfilled to let his face press into the crown of your head as you puzzled your expression into his neck. Eyelids fluttered shut at the impact that felt so natural.

His scent was indescribable as usual to your waking nostrils which then began to tangle happily with the dreams that you imagined were ingrained in some deepened part of your subconscious. Deeply stuck with notes of the Muir Woods, the vines snaking up the trees and musk as if Caesar had accidentally rubbed his shoulder against dampened foliage and the tiny droplets of moisture were still clinging to the frayed tips of his fur.

All so inviting and all too alluring as your eyelids fluttered shut in drowsed bliss for a split second longer than you would have liked as you wanted to do nothing more than admire Caesar before he needed to trudge himself out of the nest to begin his day. Shoulders strong and wide, gait paced and sure. Green and golden catapulted irises that were so intent and detailed on all aspects around him that it was a spectacle itself to watch Caesar scan the Colony in search of answers that bore no inquiry to being with. All things that translated and transcended all attention from Apes and Humans alike in his presense.

“It’s not morning yet…” Your voice is barely above a whisper as Caesar chortled in response, a mixture of innate affection from your teasing phrase and the way that your breath catapulted against his fur, sinking in from the proximity your face was to his thickened neck into his skin below and shattering against it like fire against an ice sheet. Canines peeking out momentarily which captivated your faltering gaze before they rested shut permanently, consumed by the warmth that Caesar always provided along with the shield of protection that always lingered around your Mate.

"The Sun's not even up..." That tapered off with a slumber filled yawn against Caesar's fur, a few strands letting them case between your lips as you beckoned your body closer to the Ape and entangling yourself further much to Caesar's adamance to wake sooner rather than later.

Feeling you soft against his harder body coated with pristine and thickly dense muscles, the ricochets of your breathing along his neck and down the scape towards where his shoulder fused all tempted him to linger, to stay and bide time that was meant for a meeting. Caesar could spare a few moments, maybe even minutes if you wanted to be more persuasive.

You could feel the pressing of ovals against your side as his grip on your tender and naked flesh became more possessive and coated with intentions that were fluttering against the horizon just like the Sun itself. He'd wait to get up until it had risen. Despite it being a Human Technicality. Caesar would have it no other way as he grunted quietly, fusing your body against his to keep warm for the rest of the pre-dawn morn.

#planet of the apes #pota #caesar #caesar x reader #planet of the apes x reader #pota x reader #x reader #andy serkis #em writes #kingdom of the planet of the apes #kotpota

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chxrryhansen · 1 year ago

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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Concepts 6/50

Character; Rafe Cameron

Kink; Non con (DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT)

Dialogue; “Look at the mess you made.”

Requested by; Anon <333

As always, this blog contains 18+ content only, your media consumption is your own responsibility, THIS IS A DARK FIC!!! Please be warned, this fic is NON CONSENSUAL. Read at your own risk

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

You stirred in the silky bed sheets, yawning as you woke from your nap, attempting to raising your hands to wipe away the crust.

Except they wouldn’t move.

You shot up, slowly becoming more aware of your surroundings as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. Each of your wrists were cuffed to opposing ends of a king size bed. The cuffs restraining you jingled as you attempted to pull your hands free.

How could this have possibly happened?

Your memory jogged as you recalled being at a party, hosted by a random boy you hadn’t even met. A party you didn’t want to attend in the first place but of course caved at your best friend’s pleads and bribery to pay for your drinks for the night- and the next few.

You remembered being blackout drunk, no longer caring about manners you had crawled into the first bed you found. Falling into a deep sleep.

As your eyes adjusted you noticed a tall male frame standing at your left. Due to the darkness of the room you couldn’t quite make out the face of the mysterious figure.

“Wh-Who are you?” you trembled, your body shaking in fear.

“Spread your legs.” the male commands, ignoring your question, his voice stern but oddly familiar. Your breathing picks up as you begin to panic, your hands flailing as you begin to scream “Help! H-“ He rushes forwards, his large hand smacking over your mouth essentially silencing your cries.

“Scream like that again and i- i swear to god i’ll fuckin’ kill you.” he growled.

“You got that?” he pressured once again, you nodded your head at a rapid pace, believing his threat to be true.

His hand fell from your mouth as he straddled you from above, his thick hands pulling up your dress and pushing your panties to the side. He groaned at the sight of your pretty pussy, soaked for him already and you didn’t realise it.

Before you knew it, the mystery man had removed his boxers and began to palm his cock in his hand. His thick shaft leading up to a swollen pink tip. His balls big and full of cum, ready to empty inside you.

Without warning he pressed his bulbous tip against your hole and thrust forcefully into you. Bottoming out in a single thrust as you began to scream at the top of your lungs.

His hand once again covered your mouth, only this time his other hand pinched your nose alongside it. Oxygen left your lungs faster than you imagined, your body thrashed, legs kicking, arms flailing. Still impailed on his fat cock, your pussy clenched in desperation of breath making him let out a long moan as he smothered you.

Just as you felt your body still and you begin to roll back he removed his grasp. You gasped desperate to fill your lungs with as much oxygen as you could get.

You were cut off as he began to thrust his length into you, your walls sucking him in. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, always knew you were a whore.” he sneered as you cried out. You begged him to stop, telling him he didn’t need to do this and that you promised not to tell anybody which only seemed to entice him further.

Suddenly you felt a knot in your stomach begin to tighten “No no no.” you choked, desperate to not cum all over your rapists cock.

You couldn’t hold in your moans of pleasure as you squirted, your juices coating his cock and his abs. “F-fuck look at the mess you made, dirty fuckin’ girl” he grunted.

His hips stuttered as his warm seed began to fill you up, hot ropes of cum spurted into your cunt, leaking out due to the amount of sperm he emptied inside of you. You quivered and shook around his length, coming down from your forced high.

He leaned over you, flicking on the light switch beside his bed.

You closed your eyes as the bright light made them sting, slowly blinking as your pupils shrunk down and your vision became less blurry.

Your face fell further as you recognised the figure infront of you. Your squirt still dripping down his body and his cum still leaking out of your own.

“Cmon’ don’t look so shocked you slut, it was only a matter of time before i found you.” Rafe chuckled as he watched your eyes begin to fill up with tears once again. How did he find you?

How does he always fucking find you.

#chxrrys concepts #rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey fic #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x reader #dark! rafe cameron #rafe x reader #dark rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey

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bellesdreamyprofile · 7 months ago

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cowboy feels with elvis and y/n

“Are you my yittle honeybee?”, Elvis tickled his daughter’s tummy on the changing table. The little girl let out a delighted squeal at the feeling of her daddy’s fingers on her little tummy. A big smile framed her little face as her hands reached out for Elvis.

“I know, babygirl, daddy knows.”, he cooed, gently picking her up. “Daddy’s bestest girl. After your mama, of course.”, they walked out her nursery and then made their appearance known to their guests.

“This yittle baby is finally up.”, Elvis said in a happy tone - your daughter waved her little hand at the Mafia members. The men laughed at her little gesture and waved back, earning more squeals from the little girl.

“Jerry, I ain’t seeing my wife in here.”, Elvis said, looking around the room. The wives of the Mafia were in their own area minding their own business — everyone but the wife of the King.

“You know where she is E.P.”, Jerry said and Elvis shook her head with a small smile. The little girl in his arms almost sensed who her daddy was looking for as she also started looking around wide-eyed.

“Even on a Monday morning.”, he muttered and found his baby girl’s jacket as the air was a little too cool for her. A little bucket hat was placed on top of her little head, making her delightfully touch it. Elvis smiled at her little movements and picked her up again. “Let’s go find mama.”

Walking out of the house with his baby girl was almost a routine for him. He didn’t remember the last time he spend a morning in bed with his wife, cuddling her warm body. She took off before dawn and spent most of the early morning at the stables, feeding all four horses and brushing each of their soft manes. Y/N was an early bird by nature - she thought that sleeping longer than she needed to was a waste of her time as there were so many things that needed to be done. That was what she claimed anyways. Elvis preferred slow mornings - waking up towards eleven and finding his baby girl in the nursery, who was luckily a heavy sleeper like her daddy. An abundant breakfast would follow, accompanied by a large, black coffee and some baby talk.

He tried waking up earlier and she tried sleeping in, but that only seemed to disrupt their baby’s schedule. And they weren’t in the best moods either. The best possible solution seemed to adapt to each other’s morning as well as they could. Slowly but surely, they found their pace.

“Mama!”, the little girl wiggled in Elvis´ arms, making him yelp in surprise.

“Hold up, baby girl.”, he adjusted her on his forearm and moved closer to the fence dividing them from the horses and her mama. Y/N appeared almost instantly as her name was called.

“Mama horse.”, the baby tried to reach out to her with her little hands. Y/N hopped off the horse and walked with it to the fence, closer to her little face. A smile framed her face at the sight of her husband’s bed hair and their little girl in his arms.

“Hi.”, she muttered with another smile and once she was close enough to him, placed a kiss on his lips.

“Missed you in bed.”, Elvis muttered against her lips. The little baby fisted his thick, brown jacket, almost asking for his undivided attention.

“You always say that.”, she noted with a small smile. “She woke you up, didn’t she?”

“Daddy don’t mind his little baby. Right, my little bee?”, Elvis blew a raspberry on the little baby’s cheek, the little girl squealing in delight. Y/N looked at the two with a growing smile on her face.

“Let me close up the stables and I’ll be right there, okay?”, she smiled at the two and patted the horse.

“Say oki doki mama.”, Elvis grabbed little honeybee´s hand and waved it at her. “She said she’ll be back, honey. Ain’t no need to get all fussy.”, the little girl whined at the sight of her mama leaving.

Elvis jumped a little and there was his little happy baby again, squealing in delight at her daddy’s silly actions. Moments later the lady of the hour came up to the two, one of Elvis´ cowboy hats on top of her head. Her husband let out a low whistle.

“Alright mama, so this is what’s going on when I’m sleepin´ in, huh?”, his teasing tone made her chuckle, though the way his blue eyes moved up and down her figure made her flustered.

“Aw, shut it.”, she said gently and grasped the cowboy hat, placing it on top of his head.

“Oh.”, their little baby said, making the two parents laugh.

“Mama is so silly, ain’t she baby?”, the little honeybee squealed and waved her minuscule arms around, almost wanting to grasp the cowboy hat herself.

“Let’s go cowboy.”

A/N: cutie pie chapter - I love dad elvis so much ; if you got any requests, feel free to write them down!

MASTERLIST

elvis presley masterlist elvis presley digital 2025 calendar

#fanfiction #imagine #elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis 2022 #one shot #fiction #author #elvis presley x reader #1960s #cowboy #short story

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elvisbdoll · 27 days ago

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“Happy Birthday, daddy!”

Summary: On Elvis’s birthday, January 8, 1976, his wife and their kids, Elias (9) and Melody (8), surprise him with breakfast in bed. They bring pancakes, bacon, and eggs, along with a handmade card and flowers.

Pairing: Late70s!Elvisxblack!OC

Tw: nothing really, just fluff

A/N: I know I’m a little late, but I have been working like a mad woman… so! I hope you guys enjoy and Happy birthday to Elvis! He’ll be forever 42 for me 🥹🩷

Graceland, January 8, 1976

The sun crept through the curtains in the master bedroom of Graceland, casting faint golden rays across the room. Everything was still—the soft hum of the heater the only sound breaking the silence. Elvis lay sprawled on the massive bed, the white linens tangled around him, his dark lashes brushing his cheeks. His face was relaxed, his breathing deep and steady, a rare sight for a man who often wrestled with restless nights.

In the hallway just outside the door, you stood with a tray in hand. A stack of golden pancakes sat next to crispy bacon and fluffy scrambled eggs. A small vase of flowers rested beside the plate, along with a steaming pot of coffee and a pitcher of orange juice. On top of the tray, a handmade card fluttered slightly, secured under the weight of the vase.

Beside you, your two children—8-year-old Melody and 9-year-old Elias—waited, their eyes gleaming with excitement.

“You think Daddy’s awake?” Elias whispered, holding a small bouquet of flowers he had picked from the greenhouse earlier that morning.

“I don’t know,” you said softly, your tone full of warmth as you looked down at them. “But we’re about to find out. Now remember, we have to be quiet. Daddy doesn’t get much sleep, and we don’t want to wake him too quickly.”

Melody nodded enthusiastically, clutching the corner of your robe with her small hand. Her curls bounced as she whispered, “Can I carry the juice?”

“Not this time, baby girl,” you replied with a smile. “How about you hold the card instead?”

Melody took the card, grinning ear to ear as she admired the crayon drawings she and Elias had worked on the night before. It depicted the four of you standing together in front of Graceland, hearts and music notes swirling around the words “Happy Birthday, Daddy!”

Elias adjusted the collar of his little button-down shirt, a serious expression crossing his face. “What if he’s too tired to eat?”

You crouched down to his level, brushing a hand over his neatly combed hair. “If he’s too tired, we’ll let him rest, but I promise he’ll be happy just to see y’all. This isn’t about the food—it’s about showing him how much you love him.”

——————————-

The three of you tiptoed into the bedroom, moving slowly to avoid the creak of the old wooden floors. Elvis was lying on his side, one arm tucked under the pillow and the other draped over the bedspread. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and his dark hair was tousled in that charmingly messy way that only he could pull off.

Melody gasped softly, her hands flying to her mouth. “He looks like a prince!” she whispered, her voice full of awe.

Elias rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “He’s not a prince, Mel. He’s a king. The King of Rock ‘n’ Roll.”

“Shhh!” you reminded them, setting the tray down carefully on the nightstand.

The three of you stood for a moment, watching him sleep. It wasn’t often that you got to see Elvis like this—peaceful, unburdened by the pressures of fame or the demands of his career. You felt a swell of gratitude in your chest, knowing that these quiet moments were what he treasured most.

Melody climbed onto the edge of the bed, her small frame barely making a dent in the mattress. She tucked her knees under her chin and whispered, “Can we wake him now?”

You shook your head, reaching out to gently pull her back. “Not yet, baby. Let’s give him a little more time.”

Elias leaned against you, his voice barely audible. “Does he always look this tired?”

Your heart ached at the question. You wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. “He’s just been working hard, sweetheart. But that’s why today is so special—we get to remind him to rest and enjoy himself.”

As if on cue, Elvis stirred, his hand reaching up to scratch at his head. His lashes fluttered open, and his bleary blue eyes scanned the room. It took him a moment to focus, but when he saw the three of you standing there, a slow smile spread across his face.

“Well, now,” he drawled, his voice husky with sleep. “What’s all this?”

“Happy birthday, Daddy!” Melody cried, throwing herself into his arms.

Elvis caught her with a chuckle, sitting up against the headboard. His movements were slow and careful, but his eyes were bright as he looked at her. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, little bit?”

Elias stepped forward, holding out the bouquet and the card. “We made you breakfast, and Mel and I made this for you.”

Elvis took the flowers first, inhaling their scent before setting them on the nightstand. He then opened the card, his grin widening as he took in the colorful drawings. “Now, this here,” he said, holding the card up, “is the best thing I’ve seen all year.”

Melody beamed, practically bouncing with excitement. “Do you like the hearts? I drew those!”

“I love ‘em,” Elvis said, pulling her into a hug. “You’ve got a real talent, darlin’. Maybe you’ll grow up to be an artist.”

Elias climbed onto the bed next, settling on Elvis’s other side. “I helped with the music notes,” he said, a touch of pride in his voice.

“And you did a fine job,” Elvis replied, ruffling Elias’s hair. “You’ve got an eye for detail, son.”

You watched the three of them, your heart swelling with love. This was what mattered most to Elvis—not the sold-out shows or the gold records, but the simple, quiet moments with his family.

Elvis turned his gaze to you, his smile softening. “Come here, mama,” he said, holding out an arm.

You sat down beside him, leaning into his embrace as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Y’all really outdid yourselves,” he murmured. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’m sure glad I’ve got y’all.”

Melody tugged on his sleeve, her face scrunched in concentration. “Daddy, do you like pancakes?”

Elvis laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that filled the room. “Do I like pancakes? Baby girl, I love pancakes.”

Elias smirked. “Good, ‘cause we made a whole stack.”

“You did?” Elvis raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing. “Well, I reckon I better try some, then.”

You handed him the tray, and the four of you shared breakfast in bed. Elvis made a show of savoring every bite, praising the kids for their “culinary expertise” and cracking jokes that had them doubled over with laughter.

After breakfast, you all spent the morning lounging in the bedroom, talking and laughing. The kids took turns showing Elvis their latest drawings and telling him stories about school, while he listened intently, his eyes crinkling with affection.

As the day went on, you couldn’t help but reflect on how far the two of you had come. Being with Elvis wasn’t always easy—the long hours, the constant travel, and the ever-present spotlight were challenges you had to navigate together. But moments like this reminded you why it was all worth it.

Elvis looked over at you, his gaze soft and full of love. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “For all of this. For them. For you.”

You leaned in, resting your forehead against his. “You don’t have to thank me, baby. This is what family does. We take care of each other.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your little family, you knew that this birthday would be one Elvis would never forget.

TAG LIST: @jhoneybees @kxnnxy

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fans #70s elvis #elvis history #elvis the king #elvisedit #60s elvis #elvisaaronpresley #black!oc #happy90sbirthday #happy birthday elvis #I love him

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