#and everyone else who was in the practice while lady x was there is feeling kinda unwell

[tjerra14]

This week never hid the fact it was going to one of Those Weeks™ from the start and yet it somehow still managed to get worse with each consecutive day

[magicbystarlight]

A Lady and Her Knight

Gwayne Hightower x Velyaron! (Vaemond’s daughter) Reader

Summary: You tease a knight and he falls ridiculously in love with you for it.

Word Count: 6.3k (I had to stop myself)

Warnings: 18+, Brief misogyny and xenophobia (not from Gwayne), injuries, verbal & physical teasing, milk comes out your nose, fluuufff, Gwayne is a romantic, oral sex (fem! receiving), grinding, Gwayne makes a mess. Minors DNI.

A/N: This is self indulgent, I make no apologies

“All this,” you muttered, eyeing the servants as they continued to scurry about in preparation for the various nobles who’d be arriving within the following days, “for a boy that may not even exist.”

Your aunt, Princess Rheanys, sighed beside you. “As is the way of the world.”

You could still remember her standing between your Uncle Corlys and the old King Jahearyes, Visyers and his then pregnant wife Aemma opposite them. The Queen Who Never Was. Your father’s confidence she’d be made queen and that his brother would pass High Tide to him. Your father’s sudden switch in loyalties when the council had named Viserys instead. “A woman can never rule.” What a statement to make to a daughter.

“At least,” she said, taking your arm to continue strolling through the bustling courtyard, “this shall offer you a chance to be amongst more than sailors and children.”

You mirrored her teasing smile. “The children I do not so much mind. Perhaps I shall take them to see the knights practice in the training yard.”

She said you name warmly, a fondness built through years of companionship during her husband’s frequent voyages and trips to King’s Landing, “perhaps instead you will find company with those more suited for your age while you are here.”

Nose scrunched, you asked, “Are you trying to rid yourself of me? Or is Laena?” It was all in jest, but you wouldn’t doubt your young cousin would like a less astute guardian during her time here. It wouldn’t surprise you if there wasn’t at least one attempt to sneak off to the dragon pit. “No, it must be Laenor. I have embarrassed him too oft on our journey with my superior knots.” He’d need to improve them soon. Not only for the sake of his future as Lord of the Tides, but if he ever hoped to be a dragon rider like his mother. Rope secured the saddles better than anything else.

“I assure you, sweet niece, no one is displeased with you. It is only my wish that you enjoy this trip as much as everyone else.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you assented. “I suppose I shall try, if only to please you, Princess.”

—

The wish went unfulfilled. Instead, you found yourself hidden behind closed doors serving as cupbearer to the Small Council in place of the younger princess. The Realm’s Delight, it was reasoned, should be the face that greeted the lords and their kin in the absence of the king or his queen. That the Hand’s daughter stood at her side was only right. And, you who so oft served as cupbearer within High Tide, were a perfect replacement for the time being.

It was not the sort of gossip you’d hoped to partake in, but still you listened intently as you filled cups again and again with their preferred Dornish Red. Your uncle hardly touched his now as he gave another plea for them to take his warning of the Crab Feeder seriously. But once again, it was brushed off by the Hand with the empty promise that it was taken under advisement. Talk turned quickly into that of the tourny. You had to turn your back so they could not see the roll of your eyes. Back and forth, the king argued his child was a boy who’d be born at some time during the week despite the insistence of part of his council that it wasn’t certain.

When you turned back, you caught Corlys’s frustrated eye. The Triarchy had already made trouble for ships that ported in Driftmark. Were it to continue there would be financial burden on the realm. One your house would feel first. And the king and his council did not much care. Your head bowed ever so slightly in acknowledgement of his ire before his attention returned to the discussion at hand. You made to do the same, but the heavy gaze of the Hand himself had you quickly averting your own to the floor. It stayed there for the remaining minutes as the inane chatter dissolved and the men rose to depart.

You were quick to your uncle’s side. He’d want to speak with his wife and air his grievances in a more hospitable setting. You’d take the children to the gardens or perhaps the training yard as you’d first planned.

“Lord Corlys,” Otto Hightower called, pausing your escape. He strode down the table, coming to stand on his other side. “I wish to assuage your worries that you have gone unheard today. You have not. Once the tourney has passed and the heir is in the king’s hand, there shall be a much more comprehensive discussion with the Council of what shall be done with this crab feeder.”

The stiff posture your uncles had held eased. “That is good to hear.”

Otto hummed. “And I would like to invite you, Princess Rhaenys, and,” his attention fell on you, “your niece to dine with me this evening.”

An eyebrow rose on your uncle’s face.

“My nephew arrived with my son from Old Town this morning. As he is the future Lord of Old Town, I think it would be very wise for him to build a relationship with Driftmark and learn from your many successes.”

Flattery was always your uncle’s vice. As was the opportunity to talk of his great adventures. He bowed his head. “We’d be honored.”

—

You weren’t nearly drunk enough. But your aunt had ceased the flow of wine and had whispered to a servant to have it replaced with a nut milk after you’d downed your second glass. Perhaps it was for the best. A loose tongue would surely injure the idiot beside you.

On and on Lord Ormund went, talking about nothing save for his own life. The gardens in Old Town he’d one day inherit, the two links he’d earned at the Citadel, how well trained he was with a sword, how he’d received three offers of marriage from lords of lesser houses for their daughters, and how thrice he’d denied them.

“Lovely girls, I am sure, but too commonly pretty. I myself want a wife of more exotic beauty.”

“Perhaps you should speak with my uncle then,” you said, shoving your fork so forcefully into a slice of potato it broke apart, “he could help you prepare for your journey across the Narrow Sea. He knows many of the nobility within Volantis and Braavos as well. He may know of a match suitable for a future Lord.”

He laughed. “No, no. I am not a man built for sea travel. Nor would I wish for a wife of a foreign mind. Too many queer customs.”

You held in a rather rude retort. “An exotic beauty without a foreign mind? I believe you may find a mermaid with more ease.”

“You are a modest creature.”

You choked on your milk trying to stifle a laugh followed by the awful feeling of it snorting out of your nose. You’d been flirted with before, but never so poorly. As he showed concern and your aunt and a servant mopped up your mess with napkins, Otto’s eldest son drawled, “Careful, cousin. You’ll kill the poor girl with your charm.”

A coughing fit covered another repressed laugh. Your aunt’s hand patted your back. Once you’d caught your breath and cleared the water from your eyes with a handkerchief pulled from the bust of your dress, you met Gwayne’s sea-blue ones. They crinkled in a way that had you thinking there was a smile hidden behind his own goblet. The cloth in your hand pressed against your mouth to try to stop yet another bout of laughter and you had to train your gaze on the table to keep any composure. Gods, this dinner could be the death of you.

“Are you feeling ill, my lady?” Ormund questioned.

“I am afraid I am,” you said, still hiding your mouth behind the cloth. “I had hoped it would pass as I was very much looking forward to this lovely dinner, but I fear it has crippled me beyond politeness. My apologies, but I think it best I retire for the evening and rest.”

“But of course,” Otto said. The Hand of the King saw through your act. You realized it as he offered his nephew to walk you to your chambers. When you rejected the idea, trying to implore the table you were fine to go alone, Otto merely said with a smile, “It is a long walk. It would ease my mind to know you were escorted there safely, especially given your delicate health at the present.”

Your eyes flicked from your aunt’s to your uncle’s looking for support. You had no desire to deal with Ormund alone. But they merely agreed. Your aunt’s arched brow hinted that it was a consequence of your own actions.

“Ormund should stay.” Gwayne was already standing as he spoke. “It’s a rare thing to get to speak with a Lord such as Lord Coryls. As I am not set to inherit a Lordship like you cousin, I shall ensure the lady is returned safely. I wish to visit the stables anyways.” He was a man of confidence, striding to the door and pausing at it to offer his arm. “My lady?”

You nearly knocked over your chair standing. A rushed farewell is all you offered the rest of the table before meeting Gwayne at the door and taking his arm. “This is where you say thank you,” he said when you reached the bottom of the stairs, far far away from the ears of your respective families.

“Thank you?”

He smirked. “For aiding you in your distress.”

“I was not in distress.”

A snort.

“I wasn’t! I was mildly inconvenienced at best.”

“Perhaps when I return this evening, I shall tell my dear cousin how fondly you spoke of him. How struck you were by him that you nearly swooned speaking of his handsome features.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, retracting your arm from his. “You would not dare.”

He grinned. A grin so charming, it could convince a saint to sin. A grin you had a strong urge to smack. “Is that a risk you’re willing to take over a few words of gratitude?”

You stared at him for a long while. His grin never wavered. The fool thought he had won. You cocked your head and, with a voice so sweet you could taste it, said, “You are right, Ser Gwayne. Thank you for your daring rescue. Though I fear a simple ‘thank you’ is not nearly enough.” His grin shrank as you stepped closer to him. “Perhaps a kiss for such chilvary?” Your hand rose to his chin.

His throat bobbed as you stroked his jaw. “My lady,” he tried to say, hand rising to halt yours.

“No, I suppose a kiss would not be appropriate.” You took another step forward, chest pressing against him. “My maidenhead is much more proportionate to such an act of bravery.” You grinned then.

His smile had fallen away. “You mock me?”

“You started it,” you shrugged. You tried to step back, but his grip tightened on your wrist to hold you in place.

A breath left him. He stared down at you, a look of shock that melted to one of amusement. Breath warm on your cheek, Gwayne leaned in and whispered, "A dangerous game to play. A lesser man would take your teasing as an invitation.”

You tilted your head up, nose brushing his, and mockingly cooed, "My savior.”

He snorted and released his grip, fingers dragging along your palm before his touch vanished. He shook his head and took a step away, putting distance between the two of you. It did little to help the tension. “We should get you to your rooms before dinner ends less you wish to tell Ormund the truth of your spilled milk.”

—

“It’s not fair,” Leanor whined as he tugged at the rope that bound his wrists. “How am I supposed to untie something without any hands?”

Leana giggled, her own ropes dangling from her wrists. “It’s easy!”

Leanor frowned.

“It’s not easy,” you corrected, plucking his knot until it came loose. The godswood was empty besides your trio. “It takes skill and practice to be able to do. It took me years to do it.”

“But why do I have to?”

You sighed. “Because, you,” you poked his nose, “are a valuable captive to have. And if you ever are in such a position, I want you to be able to get out of it.”

Leanor pouted, but didn’t argue more. He rubbed his freed wrists and watched as you tied Leana. It didn’t take long before he was bored, complaining he wanted to go to the training yards to see the knights practice. Leana soon followed.

You were on the verge of caving to their pleas when another trio entered the godswood. Rhaynera, Alicent, and Gwayne.

“Are you holding these children hostage?” Gwayne called.

“Yes!” the children yelled back. The ladies were giggling as they came upon you, Alicent holding a large book to her chest.

You rolled your eyes. “Tis a pleasure to see you again, Ser Gwayne. Though I fear it is poor timing as we are about to depart to the training yard.”

“We are?” Leana asked excitedly

“What fortunate timing,” Rhaynera disagreed, sharing a smirk with his sister, “as that is where Ser Gwayne is headed.”

Leanor looked at him with round, awed filled eyes. “To train for the tournament?”

“Indeed,” he said, kneeling to pull the knot on the boy’s wrists. It came undone easily. “Do you intend to become a knight one day?”

The boy nodded eagerly.

Gwayne looked to Leana, offering her the same aid. Her eyes were not quite as wide with awe. She freed herself with her teeth.

Gwayne chuckled. “I see you take after your cousin.” He stood and extended his hand towards you. You looked from it to his face. A teasing smile and a spark of challenge in his eyes. You could have sworn his lips curled wider when your fingers grasped his palm.

“Careful, Ser. Such high praise will inflate my ego nearly as much as your own. I’m not sure there’s enough space in all King’s Landing for that.”

—

Gwayne was a very pretty man. Clean, well groomed, and handsomely dressed, he was the sort songs would be written about. But after hours in the training yard, dirt clinging to his sweat drenched skin and hair askew? You were not sure there was a word for it, but whatever it was made you ache in ways unfit of a lady. The children had been sheparded off an hour before by their mother, much to their chagrin. They'd been entranced by the fighting and weapons and grieved to leave it behind for arithmetic. But you'd stayed. Leaned against a wall as he'd shown off and you'd pretended to be unimpressed.

"You are still here, my lady?" he asked as he stepped out of the crowd of knights and squires, chest heaving from exertion.

You shrugged, trying to keep your eyes trained on his face. "I've not else to do."

"And you are certain you have not stayed to avoid anyone?" He leaned beside you.

That confused you. "Who would I be avoiding?"

Your confusion confused him. "Ormund?"

You breathed a laugh. "Oh my, I had forgotten he existed." Another giggle. Gwayne's beautiful smile spread wide. The bright white a contrast against his dirtied skin. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. You reached into the bust of your gown and withdrew a handkerchief. "You're dripping."

He accepted it and wiped his face, pausing to inhale the scent. "Lavender?"

"And rosemary." You grieved to see the grim wiped away.

He grimaced as he surveyed the cloth. "I fear I may have stained it."

"It is only a handkercief."

"I shall have it cleaned."

"Ser Gwayne," you cut him off and reached into the otherside, pulling free another. Your body tingled as his gaze lingered on your breasts. "Tis a cloth. I have many more." His cheeks colored as he realized his gaze had yet to waver. He accepted the second and mopped up the sweat from his neck.

"I have offended you."

You snorted. "Hardly." Flattered more like.

"Still," he said, folding the cloths and tucking them in his pocket, "I do not wish to have you think me a pig."

"A pig you are most certainly not. As you said, a lesser man would have taken my teasing as invitation last night," you assured.

Gwayne laughed, throwing his head back and nearly choking on the sound. "You are truly a wonder."

Your nonchalance was beginning to crack. The teasing had heated your skin in such a way it turned damp. You fanned yourself with your hand to aleve the warmth. "A wonder who is in want of a bath."

"You wish to join me in a bath?"

Surprise colored your laugh. “My, my, you have grown quite bold in but a day! Perhaps you do belong in a pen.”

—

You sat beside Alicent, clapping along at the Dornishman who’d unseated a Tarley squire. You remembered him from the training yard from the last few days you’d spent watching. Vaguely. Most of your attention had been concentrated on someone else. Lord Baratheon embarrassed himself next, asking for favor of The Queen Who Never Was only to be unseated by the very same Dornishman. Your aunt’s smirk as he was dragged away matched your own.

Your heart raced as Gwayne rode out in the line of knights for Prince Daemon to choose from. His face was hidden behind his helmet, the motif of the High Tower adorning it like a crown. Prince Daemon passed the line slowly, studying the options. He veered his horse back at the end of the line and strutted past several knights before pausing, backtracking, and pointing his lance. At Gwayne. From the spat Daemon and Otto had had during the last Small Council meeting the day before, you doubted it was anything more than some petty vendetta on the prince's part.

But Gwayne trotted happily to the stands and came to a halt in front of you. He lifted his visor, grin wide. He held his lance towards you. "Might you do me the honor, my lady, of giving me your favor?"

Heat bloomed through your face as you stood, clutching the garland tightly. Eyes bore into you from every angle. You let garland, wrapped in rope and seashells, slide down the lance. "I wish you luck, my knight."

He gave a short bow, shutting his visor and returning to the field. The herald announced the start as you returned to your seat. Nails dug into the wood. Gwayne clipped the prince's shield, nearly knocking him off his horse and sending his lance flying. But upon their second meeting, the prince speared his new lance into the ground in front of Gwayne's horse. Both horse and rider hit the ground hard. His helmet had flown off and his face took the full force of the fall.

You stood as his body lay limp on the ground. For the few seconds he did not move, a crushing despair wrapped around your lungs. He’d only been in your life for a fortnight now, but you could not imagine it without him. A silly romantic notion you’d have mocked another for. But you could not help it. The despair eased only slightly when his head rose. Alive. Squires took hold of his arms and half carried, half dragged him away.

"My apologies, my lady," Daemon called cheerily as he cantered over, "for besting your knight. Perhaps I may take on your favour in recompense?"

Gwayne's retreating form disappeared behind the flaps of a tent. Your gaze turned on the prince, hard and cold. "Thank you, but my favor is not so easily redirected."

His smirk did not falter. "Well, that is a pity." You do not stay to see what conversation he had with his niece and Alicent.

The men in the tent tried to force you away. Not a place for a lady. But after years on docks and ships, you knew how to hold your ground in places much harsher than some medical tent. Gwayne laid on a bed, armor gone and face cleaned. Cuts littered his face and his eye was beginning to bruise. But he was awake, watching you in amusement. "Are you lost, my lady?"

Relief sagged your shoulders. "I was worried." You knelt at his bed and gripped his hand. "Are you alright?"

"My ego may never recover, but my body will."

Your other hand brushed hair from his face. "You do not give your ego enough credit. It shall recover quite well." Your teasing lacked any bite.

He leaned his head into your palm. "With your attentions nursing it, perhaps."

You shook your head, but smiled. "Perhaps." You lowered your voice. "If there is anything you need, any way I can help, you must tell me."

"There is one thing." His hand squeezed yours. "I have not yet asked your uncle. I had hoped to after I crowned you Queen of Love and Beauty, but alas." You bit your lip at the heat creeping up your neck. He sat up, holding your hand tighter. "I cannot think of a less romantic setting than here, but I can no longer contain myself. Will you allow me the honor of your hand?"

"Do you not already have it?" you teased.

His eyes narrowed. "That is not an answer."

"It is not," you agreed. "But it is a taste of what to expect when you are my husband."

His smile returned. "Call me that again."

"My husband?"

He hummed, bringing your hand to his lips. "Yes I quite like the sound of that."

Your smile mirrored his. "Shall I call for a Septon?"

"Tempting as the offer is, I have already denied you romance in my offer. I will not deny you a true wedding as well." He kissed the back of your hand again. "Nor am I up to face your uncle's sword were I to marry you without his consent."

You heaved a sigh and pouted. "Denied me? What is romance if not a confession made from nothing more than one's heart? I shall be the envy of all who learn that your love was so repulsed by restraint. I could marry you here and now and be just as happy." You leaned forward and placed a kiss against his temple. In a whisper you added, "Happier perhaps, as I would share your bed this night."

He groaned. "Do not make my recovery so difficult, my lady."

You smiled, pulling away. "You are right, my knight. We should perhaps wait until you are at least fully capable of taking me in the ways a man should his wife."

"You are cruel," he chuckled. "Perhaps I should rescind my offer."

"And deprive yourself of a wife such as me? Never."

"No, never.

—

Nine moons. They wanted to wait nine moons for a wedding. Time for you both to return to your respective homes and then for you to travel via ship to Old Town. Nine whole moons apart.

“It’s not ideal,” Gwayne agreed as you walked through the gardens. “But it is not as long as it could be. I’ve seen engagements last years.”

Your head rested against his arm. “I should have convinced you to marry me in that tent.” The scars had nearly healed on his face. A tragedy. They suited him well.

He stopped and took both your hands in his. His lips brushed across your knuckles. “It would not have taken much.”

You tilted your head, a soft smile spreading across your face. His nose bumped against yours. His breath fanned across your cheeks. Your hand moved to cup his cheek, thumb tracing a scar. “How cruel for you to tell me days later. Is it not punishment enough I must wait nine moons for even a kiss?”

He hummed. His hand raised to cradle the back of your neck. The tips of his fingers danced along the exposed skin there. Tension coiled tight in your stomach. You tilted your head up ever so slightly, breath fanning against his mouth.

Gwayne hesitated. “We should not.”

“Please?”

He closed the little distance, lips pressing softly against yours. It was quick and light and not nearly enough. You chased his lips as he pulled away, the hand on his cheek not letting him escape. Another kiss. Longer, less delicate. Then another. His lips parted and his tongue slid across yours in a plea for entrance. One you granted happily. Your hand fell to his tunic and tugged him along as you began to walk backwards into a small alcove where you’d be less likely to be seen.

Hidden away, his arm wrapped around your waist and held you taut against him. The kiss was deep and desperate and the ache between your legs maddening.

"Gwayne," you gasped against his lips. You pressed closer. The groan that left his mouth shot straight to your core. You whined, pulling back from the kiss and looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "Gwayne," you repeated.

"We shouldn't," he muttered, kissing your cheek. "Not here. Not now."

Your head fell back as his lips traced the column of your neck. "Why?"

"Because," his teeth nipped at the underside of your jaw, "I am not a lesser man." His nose traced along your jaw, stopping at the hinge. "And the first time I take you, I want to be able to spend the entire night worshiping you in our wedding bed."

"Gwayne.”

His groan was pained. He dropped his forehead against your shoulder, grip on your waist tightening. Had it not been for the call of your name from further in the gardens, you were sure you could have convinced him of much more than a few stolen kisses.

—

Daemon was not an easy man to find. After the birth of the king’s son and his loss of the tourney, he’d been absent much of the remaining festivities. But luck was on your side as you found him strolling through the same corridor as you. Alone.

"Prince Daemon," you called, catching his attention. He paused and turned towards you, an easy smirk on his face.

"My Lady," he greeted, bowing his head. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

You smiled. “How would you like to displease the Lord Hand?”

—

Just as promised, guards were nowhere to be found when you scurried through the sleeping Keep. The unattended door opened without resistance. Crackling from the fire and soft snores were the only sounds in the room. With a smile, you shut the door and drooped your cloak over a chair.

Your steps were silent, careful, as you came upon the bed.

Gwayne snored. Not loud, not obnoxious. Soft and sweet. He slept on his stomach, arms wrapped around the pillow under his head. Only a thin sheet covered him and it laid dangerously low on his hips. His bare back a canvas of muscle and freckles.

You called his name and shook his shoulder. He snorted, turning his head and cracking his eyes. They went wide. Like the pure maiden he was, he reached for the sheet and pulled it to cover his bare chest.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could not sleep.”

His head tilted and eyebrows drew together. "That is...not a good reason."

"I could not sleep," you repeated, a teasing edge to your voice, "because I could not stop thinking about you."

He swallowed, the lump in his throat bobbing. "My love," he said, voice thick. It was the first time he called you that. “You should not be here. If someone saw you—“

"They didn’t.”

His gaze was heavy as he searched your face and then fell to the lace trimmed shift. And your bare thighs. “Have you come to seduce me?”

You leaned forward, breath ghosting across his lips. His hand gripped the sheet tightly, knuckles white. His tongue flicked across his lower lip. "Is it working?"

“This is highly improper. We are not married.”

“But we will be.” You pulled back. “Unless you have changed your mind.”

His arm snaked around your waist, dragging you on top of him with a surprised yelp. The sheet was the only thing between you. Something pressed against your rear. No, not something. Him. Cock. Penis. Member. Whatever it was called. It was hard. His hands settled on your waist. Adoration and desire had him staring at you like a man starved. "My lady, my love," he murmured, thumbs stroking your ribs, "I shall never change my mind."

"Good," you whispered, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss against his lips. A kiss that turned more urgent and deep as your hands roamed along his chest. He groaned, the sound muffled by your mouth. His hands slid to your hips to push you lower. His hardness pressed against your aching cunt. You rocked against it, relishing the feeling and the way his head fell back, breaking the kiss, and a string of curses you’d never heard from him escaped.

"Gwayne," you gasped, rolling your hips. His grip tightened. He rocked with you, creating an addicting friction.

”This must go,” he said, tugging up your shift. You helped him discard it quickly. "Gods," he hissed. Your own curse fell from your lips as his hands cupped your breasts. “How are they more beautiful than I imagined?”

“Imagined?”

His thumb flicked across a nipple, drawing a gasp from you. “Every night since you offered me your maidenhead.” The coil in your belly tightened. He flipped the two of you over, the weight of his body pinning you down. The sheet had been pushed down enough for his cock to spring free. It lay hard against your thigh. His lips pressed kisses along your jaw. His hand returned to your breast. His other snaked between your bodies and down.

His finger pressed against the little bundle of nerves. Pleasure shot through your veins, your back arching. He kissed down your chest and took a nipple into his mouth. His finger worked slow, teasing circles around the nub. The coil wound tighter.

"Gwayne," you sighed as a second finger joined the first. They dipped inside of you. "Gwayne."

His chuckle vibrated against your skin. His lips traveled lower, peppering kisses over your stomach. The hand on your breast slipped lower, wrapping around your thigh and spreading your legs wider.

You moaned as his tongue flicked over the bundle.

"So wet," he moaned, dipping his tongue inside. Your hand buried in his hair, urging him to keep going. And he did. Licking, sucking, teasing. Every motion had the coil winding tighter. Your toes curled. Your hips bucked. With a cry, pleasure flooded through every vein.

Trembling, panting. Eyes shut from the blissful high. The bed shifted. The warmth of his body above yours disappeared. A moment later, his lips pressed against yours.

"My love," he said, stroking a thumb along your jaw.

Your eyes opened, staring at his flushed face. A sheen of sweat covered his brow. His lips swollen. You surged forward, crashing your lips against his.

A growl rumbled through his chest as he pinned you to the bed again. His tongue invaded your mouth, claiming it as his. His cock pressed against your thigh. You spread your legs wider, welcoming him between them. He rocked, the tip brushing between your folds. He sucked in a breath and his eyes squeezed shut. His fingers dug into the mattress. He was holding himself back.

"We shouldn't," he mumbled.

You frowned, sitting up on your elbows. "Why not?”

“Because I will not take your maidenhead until by law and the gods I am your husband.”

Your hips rolled and his tip slid through the wetness once more, drawing another moan from him. He pressed his forehead against yours.

"You are cruel."

"Tis what you love about me," you countered.

"My love," he murmured, pressing his lips against yours in a soft, brief kiss. "My love." Another. And another.

Your hands braced against his chest. "My husband."

He groaned, burying his head against your neck. He nipped at the skin and rocked against you, careful to not slip inside. You bit your lip to stifle your own sounds as his cock rubbed against your bundle. Your hand slid to his rear, digging into the flesh, and rocking with him. It was an intoxicating sensation. Feeling him against you, hard and heavy. "My love," he gasped against your collarbone.

"My husband," you breathed.

A stilted breath. He hips snapped forward once. Twice. Spend coated your thigh. His cock softened against your leg. He pressed kisses along your neck and shoulder. "My love."

You chuckled. "I believe you've made a mess, good Ser."

He grunted and lifted his head, grinning. He pressed a kiss against the tip of your nose. "I believe that is your fault, my love."

"My fault? I hardly think so."

He nuzzled his nose against yours. "I am but little more than the victim of your temptation. I was peacefully sleeping when you came near nude into my private chambers to seduce me."

"Perhaps you should lock your doors if you do not wish to be disturbed."

"Perhaps I should." Another soft kiss and he peeled himself away. A moment later he returned with two handkerchiefs in his hands. Your handkerchiefs. "The servents are going to think I had these cleaned so I could relieve myself in them." He used them to clean the mess he'd left across your thigh.

Tears welled in your eyes as you watched. He was set to leave in two days time and then you would not see him for nine moons. Not see his face, not hear his voice, not make him laugh. You did not fear he would change his mind. Only that his absence would drown you in despair.

Concern painted his face as he looked up to your face. “What is wrong?”

“I shall miss you.”

Handkerchiefs discarded on the floor, he came and cradled you against him. “I shall miss you too.”

—

“Funny thing,” the prince said as you poured a new bottle of wine into the decanter. You were surprised he made it to the small council meeting. “I sent servants this morning to discover a defilled maiden in her bethrothed’s bed, but all they found was said betrothed and a few defiled handkerchiefs.”

You bit your tongue to quell the giggle that threatened. What beautiful shade of red had Gwayne turned upon discovery? “The betrothed sounds like an honorable man.”

“And the maiden like a woman who denied me a great pleasure.”

“If it’s any consolation, she too was denied a great pleasure.” You paused, cocking your head. “Well, not entirely denied. But she is a maiden still.”

“A pity for all.”

—

The carriages were packed, the Hightower entourage trilling about to leave in less than an hour's time. Alicent and Rhaynera were amongst the pack. They’d be in Old Town for the next year to witness the wedding. But Gwayne had yet to join them.

“My cousin is not the timeliest. Prepare to be late for much. You shall spend much of your marriage waiting for him to tear away from his own reflection,” Ormund taunted. He’d been less than happy about the match. A bruised ego.

You smiled sweetly at him. “I expect to be late to much. For I shall find it difficult to tear myself away from him and our bed.” He blanched at that and soon excused himself.

“What in heavens did you say to send him running off like that?”

You spun to find your betrothed and his teasing smirk. “I have no idea. We were only speaking of your tardiness and how frequently you and I shall be tardy once we are wed.”

“And here I thought your cruelty could only be aimed at me.” He took your hand and placed a kiss against it. The most he could offer in such a public place. And the last for many moons.

A pain shot through your heart.

“Have you come to say goodbye?” Alicent called from a few yards away. It confused you as she made her way over. Had you not already wished her a safe trip?

“Indeed, sister,” Gwayne said, bowing his head. “What sort of brother would I be if I did not come to see you off?”

You held your tongue long enough for them to speak their farewells. When she’d returned to the princess’s side, you rounded on him. “You’re staying?”

He continued to stare ahead, watching his kin prepare for their journey. “Nine moons was far too long to be apart. Lady Leana was kind enough to help convince the Lord and Lady of the Tides that I should see the ancestral home of my betrothed.” Tears fell down your cheeks. Fretting over the display, his thumb swept away the wet streaks “My love, I thought you would be happy?”

“I am sorry. These are not sad tears, I am happy.” How you wished you were alone. “I am beyond happy.” The tears continued to fall. You pulled free a handkerchief from your bust and dabbed your face. You were prepared to say something heartfelt about how glad you were to have him, but his eyes were locked on your breasts. And a bulge was forming in the trousers. “Does a handkerchief arose you?”

Red colored his face and he attempted a casual pose with his hands to hide the growing problem. “It is your and your lovely bosom’s fault.”

A wicked grin spread across your face. “It is like a dog trained with a bell,” you mused. “I wonder what other tricks I can teach you in nine moons trapped with me on ships and an island.”

[shawnxstyles]

baby honey

OCTOBER 29, 2023

summary: besides being a friendly bartender at night, harry likes to get a little extra cash by doing porn during the day; and he’s successful. but who knew it was so common for two people who work at the same bar to both be secret porn stars?

request: @victoria-styles: “How about like Harry is a porn star who requests a video with Y/N.”

song: baby honey- harry <3

words: 11k

warnings: SMUT (f-receiving [masturbation], m-receiving [masturbation], mentions of porn, dirty talk) and language.

note: sorry for being off the world for so long… i’ll probably end up doing it again soon. but i had a day to write and i wanted to throw this out there. again, i apologize if it’s rushed or sloppy. it’s just the time i had :/ PART TWO

secret pornstar!harry x secret pornstar!y/n

—

“What’d you like, beautiful?” Harry smiles brightly, flashing his white bunny teeth at the lady on the other side of the bar. Her auburn highlights were curled romantically while she sported a tight black dress that was too small for her breasts. She was definitely a young college student while Harry was in his late 20s. Noticing his appearance, she bites her burgundy-painted lips. Her elbows lean on the slick counter, leaning forward to subtly show Harry more of her cleavage.

He didn’t indulge, but continued with his flirty attitude in order to get more tips. Charm was his speciality; it came naturally to him with no effort. After bartending for two years, everything became easy. Plus, it was fun to flirt all night long. He never got tired of the desire that flashed in women’s eyes as they looked him up and down. It made him feel confident and cocky, and he tried his hardest not to be arrogant when talking about it with his co-workers.

Being a bartender was like playing a role for some people, but for Harry, it was just who he was. And he got paid for it. In a nice paycheck and hefty tips.

“Mm, I don’t know. What do you suggest?” Her voice was high and hissy, trying to appear sensual. She slides a card toward him with two fingers. Harry doesn’t blink an eye or hesitate at this behavior; he’s seen this movie too many times to be naive.

With a smirk on his face, Harry works his magic behind the counter. His white sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, giving the lady a perfect view of his forearm muscles and veins. The woman watches his every move, focusing on the way his tattooed hands grip every bottle with efficient skill yet delicacy.

In less than two minutes, a peach colored drink was placed in front of the woman. Her eyes visibly sparkle as if she’s never seen alcohol before she sips the liquid.

“Oh my God! This is delicious,” She practically moans out, causing Harry to smirk. He loves when people compliment his craft. “What is this?”

“Sex on the beach,” Harry winks and flashes his famous grin before snatching her card and waltzing away.

His parting was almost cool, almost movie-like until he ran into somebody holding a large tub of ice. The tub smacked him in his abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. He groans deeply, trying to catch his breath while clutching his stomach for a moment.

“Fuck! Are you okay?” Your eyes wander over Harry’s face and body, attempting to recover. Hearing his voice made a flush spread across your whole skin, but you blame it on the warmth around the bar. Your white and yellow-painted fingers clutch around the handles tightly.

“Yeah, m’fine. Just knocked the wind out of me s’all,” He smiles reassuringly, throwing his rag over his shoulder. His eyes scan over your figure, just like he tries to avoid doing every night.

You had your hair pinned up in a messy bun that was simple, yet so alluring. A classic white button up and a black vest adorned your body perfectly. You wore the same standard uniform as everyone else, yet you made it look so seductive to Harry; he assumed you got loads of tips by the end of the night. Even if you were in a garbage bag, you would blow people away in the bar–men and women. He was jealous of everyone who got to be a part of your flirtatious side, but not everyone saw the genuine side of you like he had.

Another flush cascaded your skin as his eyes drifted over you and the smallest smirk appeared on his lips. The sounds of music and people buzzing drunkenly weren’t nearly as loud as the heart that was thumping in your chest. You clenched the handles even harder before looking anywhere but him, too intimidated by his charming presence.

“I’ll just, um,” You suggested awkwardly with a half smile. Standing this close to Harry without talking made you think of things. Things that you dreamt about, or things that inspired your hand to drift between your legs. The ice in the tub was probably melting from the warmth radiating off of you.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Harry shakes his head and shifts in an attempt to move past you.

You adjust the tub as he slides next to you, bodies rubbing together. His hand gently rests on your shoulder as he wiggles by you. Butterflies soar throughout your tummy at the brief contact before his touch is gone way too soon. You watch as his smile grows, walking backwards before turning around and charming another customer.

You exhale and return to focusing on your job, the bubbly feeling never leaving you.

From the corner of his eye, Harry sees you walk around the corner until you’re completely out of his sight. The black slacks you wore made him tight in his trousers a countless amount of times, basically every night. Even though he tried to avoid staring, his gaze and curiosity was drawn to you, so he hopelessly stared at your body as you strutted away. When his greedy cock twitches, he bites his tongue.

Well, at least he knows what he’s thinking about later.

God, it was so wrong. To think about you while he was getting himself off. He couldn’t help himself. After working with you for a year, his attraction to you never ceased. He thought if maybe he just got off on the idea of you one time he would be freed from the attraction he felt for his co-worker. But that only created a routine.

Harry would hook-up occasionally, and yeah, it would be nice, but nothing satisfied him completely because they weren’t you. He consistently found himself masturbating with thoughts of you on your knees. Or you on his lap, straddling or riding him. He would imagine the way you’d whine, whimper, moan, and scream for him, and these thoughts made him come hard every time.

But that nagging, unsatisfied feeling haunted him. He wanted you so bad it almost hurt. So, he resorted to other, less practical options.

He had thought about joining the porn industry awhile ago when he was in college. He thought it would be great money, and it turns out it’s even better than what he makes as a bartender.

And he thought being a bartender would make him cocky and arrogant.

Harry started over half a year ago–a few months after you got the job. In order to distract himself from thinking of you or sleeping with other women, he recorded videos during the day. Surprisingly, he got more popular than he thought he would, gaining a few thousand subscribers in just three months. Now, seven months since the beginning, Harry would do videos, live streams, and personal requests for people who paid extra.

But he never showed his face. Ever.

At night, he would work his busy shift at the bar, flirting with customers just like he did on live streams. This way, he couldn’t allow himself to engage in the idea of having a crush on a co-worker. It was just unprofessional. But even if he tried doing all of this, it was impossible for him to deny the small crush he had on you. So, that’s all he labeled it as; a small crush. Nothing more.

He wouldn’t say you were his only reason for getting into the industry. He had thought about it for quite some time, so you were just his… motivator.

When the bustling night finally comes to an end, nothing but a few footsteps echo throughout the bar as Harry wipes the counter and tables clean. As he’s just finishing up his last table, he hears your angelic voice on the other side of the bar.

“Need some help?” You offer, with a slight head tilt and a show-stopping smile as you lean on the glossy, black counter. That was the smile that got you tips, and if it didn’t, Harry would sure be willing to give you some himself. “Please let me help.”

“Just finishing up. Go on home. Don’t worry ‘bout closing up,” He tosses the rag over his shoulder as he walks towards the back room where all the locker rooms are located. You sigh into the silent air as you follow him.

“Harry, you can’t keep doing this for me every night. I can close up by myself. I’m a big girl…”

Ever since you’ve started, Harry’s been intrigued by you. Out of curiosity on your first night, Harry stayed back and helped you close up. He was surprised they made you close so soon, especially on the first night. But you should’ve had previous training.

It was purely curiosity, just to see if you did it right and whatnot. But then he did it the next night, and the next. And eventually, he anticipated and looked forward to cleaning up the bar, knowing that it was just the two of you. It didn’t really help Harry with his little crush on you, but he didn’t care when he heard your laugh and saw your smile. You were refreshing to him after a long, busy night that crept into early morning.

“I know, I know. Don’t want you to be lonely s’all.” Popping open his locker, he shuffles through all of his belongings. You appreciated that Harry would stay an extra hour every single night just because he didn’t want you to feel lonely. It made your heart all warm and your stomach feel gushy every time you were alone together. For some reason right now, his words made your tummy tingle.

“And I appreciate that a lot! But I feel bad for making you stay here longer than you have to. I know Carrie doesn’t even know you work that late,” You cross your arms while talking about your manager. Harry rolls his eyes as he continues to mess around in his locker.

“You’re not makin’ me do anything. I’m doin’ it all on my own,” He rebuttals as you move closer to him as if he’ll hear you clearer.

“But Harry–” Harry cuts off your voice because it sounds too whiny, pathetic, and way too erotic for him to make any rational decisions with you standing this close to him. He slams his hand on the metal locker, making your eyes widen and freeze.

“But nothing. Stop your whinin’, Y/N. I thought you were a big girl,” Harry grumbles before unbuttoning his vest and shrugging it off. Even if he’s just removing his vest, his hands are a bit shaky, nerves flowing through him because you’re staying right in front of him, unmoving, while he’s undressing himself.

“What are you doing?” You ask anxiously as your eyes flash over at his movements.

“Taking m’vest off?”

“Oh, right, yeah,” Well, now, you look fucking stupid.

You both bicker back and forth until Harry caves and you shine that bullet-proof smile at him. He swears he feels his knees buckle and heart jump in his chest, but swallows the feelings down.

“Fine, get the mop.”

Together, you wipe all the surfaces clean, mop the floors, restock any liquors that were empty, and lock the doors. When your job is done, you and Harry walk into the back room to grab your stuff.

“Thanks for staying,” You felt as though it was getting awkward, the silence of your footsteps and the creakness of the locker door.

“‘Course,” Harry replies gruffly and shuts his door. As he leads you out the backdoor, you both start heading in different directions without knowing. Harry usually parks in the same stall every day if he can. However, you don’t and just park anywhere you can.

“Oh. Well, goodnight, H,” You smiled softly as you drifted away to your car. It looked a little different to Harry, but maybe that’s just because it was almost pitch-black outside. Or did you get a new car and he just never noticed? Harry watches you carefully to make sure you get to your vehicle safely, and when you do, he makes his way to his own car.

You didn’t call him H a lot. The first time you did it was by accident when you spilt something on his slacks during your first week in training. He just laughed and cleaned himself up, and then said that nobody had ever called him that besides his mom. For some odd reason, a little spark ignited in you, so you started calling him H, but not all the time since it seemed special. Most of the time when you two were alone. You didn’t want other people saying H when it kind of became your guys’ thing. Besides his mom of course.

Harry loved when you called him H. His mom called him that when he was a little boy, but it’s been at least a decade since she’s said just the pure letter.

As Harry starts his engine and backs out, he inhales deeply with the thought of you in his mind. As always.

–

“Y/N, I need my car back,” Penny says on the other side of the phone, slight annoyance lacing her tone.

“I know, okay? I’m just trying to save up, and I almost have enough!”

“Fine,” Penny sighs. You can hear the exhausted pinch of her nose, “but I need it back by next Friday for that trip no matter what. Even if you have to take the damn bus. And if you don’t, I’m telling Mom and Dad.”

“Thank you so much!” Your voice is cut off by the sound of the call ending, and you sigh heavily into the morning air. She’s very mature for a thirty year old.

Last week, your car had broken down on the side of the road. It was an old, shitty car, but it got you from your parents’ house and through most of college. Your parents helped pay for a good chunk of your tuition, so you didn’t dare to ask them to loan you some money for a new car. You didn’t want them to know you needed help because they’ve already done so much for you two and you know they’re looking to retire at some point. So, you asked your older sister, Penny, to borrow hers for a few days while you came up with a better solution. She was fine with it at first, but you can tell it’s probably time to give it back.

However, even though you said you would have the money by next Friday and it’s Sunday, you wouldn’t. There is no way in hell you were going to come up with an extra two thousand dollars in twelve days.

–

You decided to open up to Harry as you were closing the bar on Tuesday night. He listened with care and nodded along to every complaint you whined. Even though it brutally killed him to listen to it. Gosh, he was so dirty minded.

“I can’t even get a second job because I wouldn’t get paid in time. And I really don’t want Penny playing snitch and telling my parents about my car,” You gasp, “What if they stop paying for my tuition because they think I’m irresponsible? Ugh, what should I do, Harry?”

“Relax f’me,” Harry reassured, and bit his cheek at his choice of words. Why is he the most sexual person ever? “I could always take you to work. And loan you some cash.”

“Absolutely not. We don’t work the same days and I don’t want you driving me when you could be busy—”

“Y/N, s’not an issue. The university s’not that far from ‘ere.”

“But—”

“No,” Harry ended the banter quickly with a strict tone. His voice made you swallow and submit without a second thought. Your stomach unconsciously burned and your heart beated rapidly as you blinked in place. “Go get y’things.”

“Fine, but I don’t want your money.”

So, you got your things. Harry walked you out to your car and then you went your separate ways. Even though he said it’s not a big deal, you didn’t drop it. Instead, you did excessive research on part-time jobs that pay really well. However, your options were slim to none.

Giving up, you fell dramatically onto your mattress in defeat. Suddenly, your phone pings and you check it, wondering who would be texting you at one A.M.

H: Send me your schedule when you get the chance. The new one hasn't been printed yet.

H: You’re probably asleep, sorry

Y/N: i’m not asleep

Y/N: *Image Attachment*

H: Cool thanks

Y/N: no thank YOU for helping me out you’re too kind H

H: Anything for you love

Is what Harry wanted to say, but he was too much of a chicken. That’s what Harry wanted to say in a perfect world, but nothing is on his side. He thought he had erased the message and exited the app. Instead, the message sent, and autocorrect changed the entire meaning.

H: Anything for your love

This is why punctuation and revision is important!

Your heart skipped a beat. Longer than a beat. You felt the organ get caught in your throat and subtly choke you as you read the four words. Why would he say that? You wait a few moments to see if he’s going to type something else, maybe realize he made a mistake, but he never does. So, you sit rereading the four words like a mantra in your head.

You turn your phone off after you realize how ridiculous you’re being. You place the device on your nightstand and try to go to sleep. But you can’t. You can’t stop thinking of Harry. His kindness, his voice, his body, his words… They’re infecting you and giving you insomnia.

So, instead of staring at the ceiling until you fall asleep, you snatch your laptop from below your nightstand. You pull up your private browser (not that it matters) and search your favorite website. Well, your favorite porn website.

If you watched enough videos, or maybe even fingered yourself, you would fall asleep.

You were a regular on the website. More than a regular. You were a… worker. A star, or whatever. Is that what the employees were called? At the beginning of college you started recording little videos of yourself just groping or rubbing hoping to earn a little cash. But when you got a little more confident, you would rub your clit and finger yourself until you came.

Crazy, right?

It’s quite insane how it all happened. It’s a good side hustle, but it’s still not enough to help you buy a car by your deadline. You get paid less than you do as a bartender, which kind of sucks. You thought about quitting, but it’s probably the funnest job you’ve ever had. How many jobs do you get orgasms from?

None.

Maybe you need to step up your game. Maybe you need to start using various toys that your viewers recommend in order to spice things up. Will that get you views? You didn’t know because you didn’t know a lot about the porn industry.

Scrolling past your profile to avoid obsessing over your insecurities, you look at who's live. That’s one thing you’ll never do; go on live. No matter how much the handful of viewers you get want you to, you don’t trust yourself. You never show your face in any of your videos and if you did by accident, you always blur it out. But on livestream, you can’t just go back and fix it. Your face will be on the internet forever, and your biggest fear is that it will haunt you for the rest of your life.

What if you can’t get a real job because your face is on some porn website? Or you can’t get married? Or you can’t look your friends in the eyes because they’ve seen yours on a livestream?

You couldn’t live with that.

When nothing seems at all entertaining, a video of a man with tattoos spawns on your screen. Your first thought was that it looks like Harry, but you know it wasn’t. The man didn’t have the cross tattoo on his left hand and was lacking in other spots.

You bet Harry was fit. The way he carried those tubs of ice or lifted something heavy off the shelves… You knew he had to have some type of hefty muscle under his rolled button-up. Speaking of, when he curls the white sleeves, you can’t help but ogle him every time you see him. You strain to look away because his forearms just look so delicious with his smooth, tattooed skin.

Nonetheless, you still clicked on the video. It was a solo guy simply just jerking himself off with loads of foreplay and dirty talk. Usually, this kind of scene makes you cringe. But as your mind spirals, you imagine it’s Harry; his voice, his tattoos, his body, his hands…

Every explicit word and sound that falls from the man’s mouth causes you to whimper as you translate it as Harry. Your hand easily shuffles itself between your widening legs, rubbing gently over the cotton of your panties.

The guy begins stroking his cock, slowly but surely as his tip leaks. You shut your eyes, not bothering with the video. All you wanted were the sounds—the grunting, moaning, and direct words spouting from this man’s throat that pushed you further. They sounded gruff, and you couldn’t erase how perfectly it aligned with your imagination of Harry.

A broken moan escapes you when you shift your underwear to the side and slot in a finger. You barely teased yourself, and thrusted in and out with purpose.

The man in the video was American, and some may say it’s hard to imagine a British accent. But when you were horny and had a ridiculous crush on your 28 year old co-worker who was 6 years older than you, your brain was relentless.

The audio spouted out his grumbled moan as your opposing thumb rolled over your clit. You couldn’t stop thinking of Harry’s hands on you, his fingers inside of you instead of your own. You imagine he’s good too. You can practically feel the way he sinks all the way into you and curls deliciously until his rings are teasing your folds. His smirk would hang over your face as you broke down, trembling as you came around his digits.

That wasn’t real, but your mind couldn’t comprehend that right now. As the guy loudly groaned one final time, he came with spurts of his orgasm landing on his chiseled torso.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came around two fingers that weren’t Harry’s. The remaining thought left you unsatisfied overall, but it would have to surfice for tonight. As you drained yourself of your orgasm, you trudged to your shared bathroom and quickly cleaned yourself up before anyone could see.

Your dormmates were always in and out. They both were in full-time relationships and jobs that caused them to be busy twenty-four-seven. Sometimes, you were glad because then you could have the whole dorm to yourself. That’s usually when you recorded your videos for your website, and then would edit them some other time.

Now exhausted, you flopped onto your bed and shut your laptop closed. You twisted off your bedside lamp as your eyes grew heavier by the minute. It wasn’t long before your mind dragged you into slumber, the thought of Harry still lingering.

—

When you woke up the next morning, you were glad you didn’t have work that night. Although you’ve selfishly gotten off to Harry before, you never did have to face him the next day. It’s almost like you planned it that way. You groggily rolled out of bed as you normally do and began your short morning routine.

You left the doom and walked to class, too tired to get a coffee, but too tired to go to class. Your head pounded, needing the addicting caffeine, so you forced yourself to walk down to the small coffee shop near your school.

Snatching the miniature paper cup, you skulked your way to class with half your brain on. During the lecture, you felt yourself slipping away into dreamland; one where you had a great paying job, a nice, working car, and a very, very comfy bed. You imagined yourself sleeping peacefully and then waking up to the sound of chirping birds on your windowsill and a handsome man by your side. For a sliver of a moment, due to your shenanigans last night, your brain envisioned Harry as the man beside you. But even the exhausted and delirious morning version of you knew you were being foolish to even think about Harry in the same bed as you. Boy, was that a fantasy.

It was too domestic and way too out of reach for you both. You merely closed with the guy and ranted about your own life. Pouring out your problems was definitely not attractive, and neither was a college girl that was six years younger than him without a working car. But he offered to drive you to work. What does that mean? Nothing. That’s just what friendly co-workers do, right? When you realized you were insanely delusional, you rushed to scribble the notes in your notebook before your daydreams got the best of you.

“That’s all for today,” were your favorite set of words at the moment. The second you heard your professor’s routine dismissal, you were shoving your supplies in your bag with more energy than you had all day. You were the first to exit class, but was that really surprising?

When you got back to the dorm, you dropped your bag and fell flat on your bed. Silence filled your room just as last night (or this morning if you wanted to get technical). But it was brighter and a bit stuffer due to the heat of the sun beaming through your window that you forgot to block with your blinds. Groaning, you do just that right as you get a message from your phone. Flopping back on your bed, you flip the device over with surprise.

H: Do you work today

You were shocked to see that Harry texted you because one, it was mid-day and two, he rarely ever texts. When his name pops up on your screen’s wallpaper, your heart jumps in your chest before reading the message ten more times in order to comprehend it. But this text specifically had you confused. You sent him your schedule last night, so he knows exactly when you work. Why would he need to be asking you when he has the information?

Instead of being a bitch, you just reply simply.

Y/N: i don’t. why what’s up

He responds quickly.

H: Carrie called and asked if anyone could come in to cover Allison’s shift tonight

Y/N: closing?

H: Yeah

Y/N: are you working?

Why would you ask that? You were probably going to pick up the shift anyway, so why didn’t you just say yes?

Maybe because your delusional ass wants to keep this dry, solely work-related conversation going!

H: Yes

Y/N: kk then i can cover

H: Need a ride?

Why did Harry ask that? He knows that you still have your sister’s car for the rest of the week, yet he still asked. Is there a little sliver inside of him that hopes you’ll say yes just so he can spend time with you? Yes. The real question was, is it weird that he wanted you to say yes?

Y/N: it’s okay i still have penny’s car until friday

Harry didn’t respond after that. He was hit with what he assumed was disappointment, but he had no reason to be disappointed.

You were the type of person to ask a million questions until you found out the reason behind something. Harry found that out early on. So, just in case you ask him why he reached out to you, his excuse would be that you needed the money because of Tuesday’s rant. Maybe it would sound a little harsh, but it was better than Harry admitting that he just wanted to work with you again. Or that he wanted to be with you alone.

God, he sounds like such a creep.

When the night came, Harry was impatiently waiting for you to come in. He had already been there an hour and every few minutes his head would look backward to see if you were walking in through the back door. When he realized how weird and obsessive he was being, he refocused on his work; smiling, charming, and getting tips. Some nights were harder than others to act all sexy and sweet because he didn’t always feel that way. But when he worked with you, everything seemed a bit easier. But it was also because he had the dirtiest mind in the world and couldn’t stop thinking about what was underneath your button-up. Okay, so maybe working with you wasn’t the easiest…

“Look at her.”

“Who?”

“That one. The one with the pinned up hair,” A burly man points. “I would not mind gettin’ some of that.”

“Oh yeah. Look at her tits. They are practically poppin’ out of that top–”

Harry’s never turned around so quickly in his life. When he turned, he saw exactly what the two bastards were looking at; you. You were wearing a little more makeup than usual and your top was missing the first button. Harry felt his blood boil, but not with rage. No, it was bubbling up with some intense need to push you into the back room and lock the door. He would pluck off every single button with his mouth if you asked him to. But he also hated that everyone could see. Every person in this bar, including the two perverts behind him, got to ogle your beauty. Harry felt like he couldn’t admire you the way that strangers get to, and he was right. He couldn’t. It was wrong. You were friends. You were co-workers. That had to be against some rule, right?

Once he got his head somewhat straight, he spun back around to face the two men again. Harry was not charming and he was not smiling this time. Before Harry even had the chance to speak, the man was already talking over him.

“Yo, you think you could hook me up with that one? The busty one?” Harry was going to beat the shit out of this guy. But he’s going to try his best to remain professional first.

“You’re not allowed to hit on employees. And you’re not allowed to talk about them in an inappropriate manner,” Harry clenched his jaw and peered over at you, “If you say another goddamn word about her I will kick your ass to the curb, yeah?”

One of the men wasn't even paying attention anymore, but the one who started it all merely snickered at Harry. He shook his head in annoyance before spinning around on his stool and hopping off. He could hear little grumbles coming from his bearded mouth, but he didn’t actually say anything else. Harry felt like it was a little victory in his book, but he still felt that drop of jealousy inside of him.

Control.

He took a deep breath and concentrated on anything else. He attempted to stay as far away from you as possible because he thinks tonight may be the night he loses control. You had your hair pinned up again, like usual, but the ends were sticking out. Harry thought about pulling on them until your hair came undone completely. Like he noticed earlier, you had on more makeup, but it wasn’t a lot compared to some of the women that waltzed into the bar. Your lipstick was a bold red while your eyes had that gold glitter eyeshadow stuff that made them sparkle. To say the least, you were attractive. You were a captivating magnet of beauty that people were drawn to. When you walked in a room, people stopped to look at you for minutes at a time because they were fascinated by you. Well, that’s at least how Harry felt. Every time.

At midnight, when the bar finally died down a bit because it’s Wednesday, Harry still tried to avoid you. You seemed extra smiley and extra bouncy for some reason too. It was physically hard to not walk over to you. When Harry wanted something, he usually got it, but his self-control was proving that fact to be false.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you all night!” Just when he thought you might leave his mind for the first time tonight–you weren’t–he summoned you next to him. You were as smiley and bouncy as you seemed earlier and he wondered how you weren’t exhausted.

“Hey,” he replied with some guilt in his tone. He coughs, trying not to peer down at your breasts. “How are you so…”

“Awake? I had four espresso shots before work.”

“Okay, well, that explains a lot,” Harry felt the need to say something about your look. He wanted to compliment you, but would that be weird? No, right? You probably got a hundred compliments and loads of tips because of your beauty alone. He has never thought twice about complimenting somebody before. He swallowed. “I, uh, like your makeup.”

You blinked, suddenly feeling the weight of your mascara on your eyelashes and the lipstick on your lips. Your heart was already beating quickly because of the caffeine, but Harry’s compliment made it much worse. The organ was thumping speedily inside of you like it was trying to win a race. Your ears were getting warm along with the nape of your neck as a tingle of something shot through your body. Like? Lust? Need?

“T-Thank you,” You bit your tongue immediately for stuttering. Harry ignited a flame of energy into you that no amount of caffeine could recreate. He was staring at you now, his gaze so intense you might melt from his invisible laser beams. When his irises moved, you swear they shot down to your cleavage for a millisecond before staring at your painted lips. You tried not to look at any of his tattoos that were visible because you knew that would end it all for you; all of your self-control that you have somehow mustered up this far would disintegrate into the lust-filled air. Did he feel this too? The intense attraction connected by a thick rope that pulled you closer and closer together?

“I’m going to go do…anything else.” As your body moved away from him in an urge to remain self-controlled, your eyes were the last thing to yank away. But your luck got the best of you, as always. As you walked backwards, your heel stepped on a half-melted ice cube that managed to make you slip on your ass. But not before Harry was right in front of you, catching you before you ass hit the ground.

He tugs you up a little too harshly, slamming you into his chest. Your hands immediately flatten themselves against it while he holds your elbows tightly. He quickly peers down at your chipped nails; white and yellow. His gaze on them made you tremble with sudden insecurity. You’ve never been this close to him before, and all your insides were warning you of their near death. Your vagina was melting away at this point, your wetness soaking your underwear until they were completely wet. You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your throat while his heart throbbed against your palms.

Maybe he did feel it too.

Hesitantly, you looked up at him, but he was already looking at you.

“What are you doing to me?” he asks quietly, his grip loosening just the slightest.

“I could ask the same thing,” You responded breathlessly, hands slowly sliding down his chest.

“I have no control around you.”

“What do you mean?” You knew what he meant because you felt it too, but you wanted him to say it first. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it before the words could come out. Once you are on steady feet, he releases his hold on you completely just as the bar doorbell rings. An older man walks in, Harry immediately fetching the guy’s order. He gets a beer while messaging on his phone consistently. Harry avoided you for the rest of the hour. Two more people came in and he busied himself with their orders and paid attention to only them. You wondered if he was going to stay and close with you tonight or if the encounter was awkward enough to make him go home early.

You take a deep breath before trudging away into the back room to start your close, careful to not slip on any ice because you knew Harry wouldn’t be there this time to catch you.

–

Once the doors were finally locked, you were able to start mopping in front of the bar. The chairs were all flipped and the tables and booths were all sanitized. You peered through the windows as a few people walked by, the mophead gliding easily along the floor. When you were finished, you tried not to think about where Harry was. You’re not sure if he had left for the night because you’ve been in the front and he’s been in the back. As you drag the mop into the back room with its bucket, you witness Harry unbuttoning his vest. Your traitorous heart thumped and your lady parts still ached, even if you were upset he’d been avoiding you without a valid reason. What did he not have control over? Himself? You wanted him to explain everything to you.

“I don’t like this, Harry.”

“What?” he croaked, voice seemingly dry from talking the previous hour.

“You avoiding me,” You took a deep breath, “What do you not have control over?” You saw his jaw visibly tense at the question, but that only made you more curious.

“I can’t do this tonight,” Once his vest was off, he was trying to push past you in the small room, but you shuffled to the side to block him. He was not walking away easily this time.

“No, you’re not avoiding me again. Harry, be an adult, would you?”

“You’re the one that’s blockin’ the doorway like a child so I can’t leave.”

“Well, if you just explained yourself maybe I would usher you to the exit myself,” You crossed your arms stubbornly over your chest. Harry hated that his eyes were attracted to your pushed-up breasts, practically calling out to him. This was his breaking point. This is exactly what he knew would happen. He knew you would ask him a million questions until you found your in-depth answer. He let one admission slip and suddenly he was being bombarded with questions that even he didn’t have the answers to. He was afraid he’d say the wrong thing, and then everything between you would be ruined.

Maybe he would just quit and become a full-time pornstar.

“Why do you stay an extra hour every night to help me close? Because I know you’re not getting paid for it.”

“Maybe I just like helpin’ out.”

“You only do it with me, don’t you? And now you’re avoiding me–”

“Fuck, ‘cause I’m drawn to you, Y/N! I can’t help it. I want to spend more time with you than a single shift. I’m selfish. Have you seen yourself? You walk around like you own this damn place and it has everyone fallin’ onto their knees for ya. You should’ve heard what these guys were sayin’ ‘bout you,” he laughs in the depressing, forced kind of way, “and tonight when you came in with your glitter and your makeup and your tits pouring out of your shirt, you made me think and feel things I can’t say out loud. It feels wrong. That’s why I’ve been avoiding you.”

With a frozen body, you were speechless. The silence that surrounded you both was so deafening that you could barely hear your drumming heart beating in your ears. Your mouth was slacked open, your lips formed in a forever “o” shape. Harry’s words were rushed and tense as if he couldn’t quite get them out right, but he couldn’t have explained it better. While you were starstruck by his admission, he brushes past your still body and exits the back room. You don’t even turn around in time because when you do, you don’t hear the click of his footsteps in the lobby but the plush closing of the back door.

–

The next morning was awful. You could barely sleep due to Harry’s words echoing in your head like a wincing ache, so you were dragging yourself out of bed once your alarm rang at 6 am. Your morning routine felt more mundane than usual as your eyes threatened to shut every few seconds.

As you finally trudged to campus, the curious cat in you kept wandering back to thoughts of Harry. You wondered what he was doing right now in the middle of the day. Did he have another job? Was he hanging out with friends? Family? At one point during your friendship, you had assumed he had a girlfriend because how could he not? A handsome bartender with enough charm to swoon both men and women in a filled ballroom surely would be taken. But after his confession last night, you knew Harry was consumed in a different concept. Maybe Harry didn’t like to date. Maybe he just liked being with women (and maybe men) in an intimate way casually without settling. You weren’t like that. You liked commitment and routine and being steady. That’s why it was unbelievably stressful for your car to break down randomly; it interrupted your plans. So maybe that’s why you couldn’t respond to Harry after his acknowledging words last night–you haven’t had time to process the underlying meaning of his words. You also knew deep down that if Harry only wanted you for sex, you would get hurt in the end. You weren’t one for casual sex because you knew you would get attached. That’s why you have remained such self-control around Harry.

Did he feel that way too?

When you got to the doors of your lecture room, your thoughts became misty in your mind. You push open the door to an empty classroom. You blink away the fatigue in your eyes, thinking your deliriousness has you seeing things–or lack thereof. But when you rub them harshly, the room remains peopleless and you wonder just what you missed. You yank your phone from your pants pocket and tap open your email app. And of course, the most recent and unread email is from your professor last night. He mentions that class would be canceled tomorrow due to a family emergency that happened that evening. At that time, you were too busy drowning in your own overthinking to even check your phone the whole night. As a grumble mixed with a sigh leaves your lips, you plod back to your tiny dorm and hope that your roommates aren’t there. You needed to let off some steam. And you knew just how.

–

Out of all the days in the week, Thursday has always been Harry’s day off. He never works on Thursday or hangs out with his friends because they have work, so it’s just a nothing day for him. Some weeks he uses this day to film new content, but after last night’s incident, he can’t think straight. He hasn’t stopped thinking of you and your lack of words from his admission. And it’s killing him. He wishes you would have said something, anything, rather than just standing still with your mouth wide enough to slip his cock through. His mind keeps coming up with randomized scenarios of what-ifs and it’s enough to make him go mad.

And then there’s the dirty, animalistic part of him that cannot forget how good you looked with your barely buttoned shirt and your wild lipstick. He wanted to kiss you until you were both covered in the red paint. He wanted to tear your uniform so roughly that the buttons would break off completely and you’d never be able to wear that excuse for a shirt again. He wanted to corner you in the back room and show you how much he wanted you and how much he hated avoiding you. But he needed to. For his sake and yours.

Instead of filming one of his requested videos, he just scrolls through the website. Harry doesn’t feel guilty about it because he keeps telling himself that today is his day off and he deserves to take a break. But even with those reminders his brain is running a million miles an hour, chasing you and the what-ifs that lingered on your tongue last night. Even when he tried his very best, he couldn’t stop thinking about you in his subconscious. So as he deepened his search throughout the site, he didn’t even comprehend that he was looking for someone that resembled you.

He seeked various videos until he found an account that drew him in, similarly to how you do on a daily basis. With curiosity, he clicks on the profile before him, reading and watching bits and pieces before indulging. The username was babyh0ney and that alone caught his eye. The girl didn’t say much about herself on her profile, but based on the cover of the videos, she looked young. He couldn’t see her face, which he respected, but still decided to click on a video.

Indulging in her top video, Harry watches with an open mind. But he learns it is extremely difficult when he keeps relating things back to you. He swears at one point you mentioned to him that your bed was a light shade of pink, but he could be imagining it. The sight of the woman’s bare chest has Harry’s gaze locked because he swears that’s what yours would look like if he ever saw them. The peek of hair that rests on her shoulders seems to be the same as yours, too. As the woman drags her hand down her body and towards her panties, Harry starts to feel dizzy with arousal. No one has been able to turn him on as much as you since you’ve been working with him, so the fact that his woman is able to do just that surprises him. He takes the opportunity without questioning and immediately starts palming himself over his loose shorts.

The woman continues to tease herself by rubbing her delicate fingers over her red panties–of course they’re red, Harry thinks. Only the most seductive color. Temptingly, she nudges the tip of her finger into the lace, teasing the audience with her edging. But that draws Harry’s eyes more than he thought. Removing his hand from his throbbing cock, he pauses the video when the woman’s hands are in full view. He zooms in and recognizes the color of the woman’s nails; white and yellow. But not just any woman now, no.

It was you. Harry was sure of it.

As if Harry thought he was dizzy before, he was fully nauseous with shock and arousal now. His eyes can barely believe the sight before him, consuming the video as if it will flash away any second. He rips off his shorts quickly and has his bare cock in his hand in mere seconds. Milliseconds even. His tip was viciously leaking, the slit pulsing and pink. After what felt like ages you finally, slowly and cautiously, remove your underwear. You spread your legs wide enough so Harry (and the audience) can see your fluttering cunt, naked and needy.

God, Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his life. Is it possible to die from a neverending erection?

“Fuck,” You moaned through Harry’s laptop as your painted fingers rubbed generous circles over your throbbing clit. The one word and Harry’s hand was gliding speedily over his cock, wasting no time in the world. Usually, Harry likes to take his time and even tease himself a bit, but with the sight of your gorgeous body straight in front of his greedy eyes, he couldn’t tear away. He couldn’t halt the dangerously quick movement of his hand going up and down on his shaft, chasing a high he’s wanted to for so long. Just as you slip a finger into your cunt, Harry spurts out his selfish orgasm, ropes of white splattering over his tattooed stomach. He barely comprehended calling out your name as he came, and even though it was heedless, he doesn’t regret it. That was one of the most relieving finishes he’s ever had, yet it still felt incomplete somehow, like there was something missing.

He knew deep down inside that he would never truly be sedated until you were physically with him, but he knew that wouldn’t happen. At least any time soon. So for now, this was the best he was going to get.

But that didn’t stop him from going through your account. Harry watched two more videos–without touching himself surprisingly–before he got the courage to message you. His cock was plump and insatiable, wetness dribbling at his tip. He shakily clicked on your profile’s messaging box before asking for a request. He doesn’t second-guess himself because he knows he would never send it if he did that. So with lust as his guide, he hits send.

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Hi I just saw some of your videos and I was impressed.

Impressed? That’s what he calls the incessant throb of his dick? Why did he start off like that?

Harry knows that he has more of a page than some small influencers on this site, including you. He hopes that you’ll be more inclined to respond because he’s verified. But he then realized that you might not even be online to see it. He knows that you don’t work today, but it is the middle of the day and you’re probably doing something much more important than–

babyh0ney: really? thank you so much. i’m a fan of your work myself…

Harry felt his heart beating wildly in his chest. You were a fan of him? You watched his videos? Did you know it was him like he knew it was you?

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Really?

babyh0ney: yes

babyh0ney: i wish i could attract the people like you do

DaylightDaddy [verified]: I’d be happy to help

What was he suggesting? Harry didn’t even know what he was typing. His fingers were moving faster than his logic.

babyh0ney: how do i become more attractive?

Harry nearly laughs at that. You were one of the more alluring people he’s ever seen or met, including all the celebrities he’s watched in movies. You were different. The best kind of different.

With the protection of his own screen and the chance you don’t know who you’re actually talking to, Harry responds with confidence.

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Honey, you’re one of the most attractive women on here

Your heart skips an unexpected beat from the words on the screen. You weren’t naive. It was obvious this man was flirting with you, but why? To ask for a request for free? To do a collaboration? There is no way this man, a verified star with devilish talent and tattoos galore, would want to do a video with you. In a strange way, you were extremely attracted to him. You weren’t lying when you said you had been a fan of him. In the back of your mind and deep in your soul he resembled Harry in the slightest, mainly from the placement of his tattoos. Some tattoos looked just like Harry’s, but you refused to stare long enough to fantasize.

Unsure of how to reply, you deflect.

babyh0ney: thank you…but have you seen the women on here?

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Yes, that’s how I know I’m right

A heated rush flows through your skin and bundles in your cheeks. You never realized how touch-starved, horny, and lonely you were until some random guy on the internet made you blush. What has the world become?

babyh0ney: but you haven’t even seen my face

Without even trying, you confirmed Harry’s assumption. There was no way you knew it was him you were messaging. Should he spill the beans and admit that he’s seen your face? Or should he play it cool? Well, one is going to make him sound like a stalker, so he might want to go with the ladder.

DaylightDaddy [verified]: I don’t need to. I just know

babyh0ney: why are you really texting me? it doesn’t seem like you want a request…

It was so like you; to ask a serious question when Harry was trying to flirt. You always have to know every little detail. Harry had a love-hate relationship with the fact.

Suddenly, like a lightbulb over his head, Harry had an idea. Something that would benefit both of you, and something that might make Harry feel a little less selfish.

DaylightDaddy [verified]: I do

DaylightDaddy [verified]: But you said you wanted to appear more attractive and I can help

DaylightDaddy [verified]: So what is your favorite thing to do?

You blink at the screen before you. No one’s ever asked what you liked before. It’s always what they want, and if it was something that you refused to do then they just left the conversation. Simple as that. But this person was different. Maybe it was because he was in the industry himself and he knows what it’s like to receive random requests. Whatever his reason for it, you were slightly more confident.

babyh0ney: well i like to use my toys in my requests so the videos aren’t as long

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Favorite toy?

babyh0ney: my bullet because it makes me come fast

babyh0ney: but i haven’t used it in a video yet

Harry could barely type. The swelling of his cock was overwhelming. He couldn’t stop imagining you on your light pink bed sheets, all spread out and wide, with a small, vibrating bullet lodged into your sopping cunt. He roughly palms down on his bulge to ease the immense ache.

Before Harry even had the chance to respond, you sent another message.

babyh0ney: i sent you a video if you want

babyh0ney: and you could give me some advice?

Harry’s inkling of a plan seemed to be setting into motion, and he didn’t even have to roll the ball much. He’s glad that you’re the one suggesting the video more than he is because it proves that you want it. Maybe not as much as he does, but the desire is there. He feels that familiar tug of attraction between you both, and he wonders if that feeling is traveling through the technology.

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Perfect. Just do exactly what you do.

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Let me send you the money first

babyh0ney: but you’re helping me

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Honey, you know I got the money

DaylightDaddy [verified]: I asked for a request

babyh0ney: but this is different

You’re still not going to take his money? Are you just universally stubborn?

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Why are you so stubborn?

Harry doesn’t realize it until after he sent it that that message may sound a bit personal. How is he to know how stubborn you are if he didn’t actually know you as a person?

babyh0ney: you don’t even know me

babyh0ney: so i guess i can take your money lol

Harry sends the money with ease and no regret. He has been waiting the past week to be able to send you that money so you can finally get your fucking car fixed. But like he mentioned, you’re just too damn stubborn to accept the money from anyone. But when it’s a stranger that you’ll never talk to again on a porn website, it’s fine…

Harry knows that you won’t receive his money until after you send the video, so he waits impatiently. After a minute, he forces himself to leave the chat. He scrolls down your page, mesmerized by your beauty on the covers. But he’s also a little ashamed. He’s ashamed that he is doing this in order to talk to you because he’s afraid of what you will and won’t say in real life. He’s ashamed that he’s been avoiding you because he feels so strongly about you that it makes his insides nearly explode, but in the greatest way possible. It’s insane for him to admit that to himself, but it’s true.

He likes you.

–

Did you take a risk? Yes. Are you fucking insane for it? Yes with a side of fucking yes.

It’s been a half an hour since you texted DaylightDaddy. But you’re just so fucking nervous for some reason. At first, you tried to use the bullet like you would as if you were recording, but you could not concentrate for the life of you. Your fingers were trembling, your stomach was too tight, and your mind was a wandering catastrophe.

Because of your incessant craziness, you strolled through the man’s account. You should have been focusing on sending him his requested video that he paid for, even though he was supposed to be helping you. You could have at least given him a discount, but you didn’t feel like arguing for once. In that way, he reminded you of Harry.

Harry.

Even throughout the whole interaction with this random stranger, you were still finding subtle ways to relate them back to Harry. Some of the things the guy said seemed like such a Harry thing to say and you hated your mind for always resorting back to him like it was the only thing you knew. Why did he have to invade your mind and why did you want him to stay in it? It was the endless toxic loop that you were trapped in. It’s been one day since you’ve seen Harry, but it feels wrong after last night. Everything feels wrong and empty and unsaid. So much unsaid. You wanted him so badly to admit to you why he was doing what he was doing, and when he did, what did you do? Freeze up and panic? He was being vulnerable, and you just stood still and watched him leave.

A regretful tremble jerks your bottom lip and you feel the urge to cry. Not of sadness but of frustration with yourself. Harry is one of the greatest guys you’ve ever met and of course, you find a way to fuck it up somehow.

And although you want to push away the thoughts completely and focus on this requested video, the mystery man reminds you a lot of Harry. Like scary similar. Those tattoos were burning in your eyes, pulling you to look at them. Breaking some self-control, you watch one video. Just a short one. One where his tattoos are in full view, so your insatiable mind could be greedy and get off to this video of lookalike Harry for your flirty customer.

You fast forward until the man’s hands are on his cock, stroking all its thickness with precise teasing. As your waste of space panties start to get wet, your eyes immediately hook on the tattoos on his hands. A cross right by his thumb. You pause the video where his arm is in full view.

No fucking way.

There is no fucking way that’s Harry. What are the chances? Impossible, that’s what they are. Maybe this man just had the same under his index finger and near his thumb. Maybe he had the same anchor adorning his wrist like a large bracelet. Maybe…

Maybe you need to realize this is fucking Harry. And he found you somehow. Does he know it’s you?

–

With shaky fingers, you finally send the video.

You feel your heart plummet, the few seconds that passed already make you anxious. You had recorded the video, just like you were going to. Except you didn’t do it for DaylightDaddy. No, you did it for Harry.

What if you were wrong? What if it wasn’t Harry?

Is it possible to get sued for talking and moaning another guy’s name to a customer? You might just find out.

babyh0ney: *Video Attachment*

With shaky fingers, he finally presses play.

Harry’s head is dizzy with lust and his body is flooded with arousal. He watches intently as your body comes into view, nothing but panties on. Your camera is angled directly between your legs, so he can only see the underside of your breasts.

With lust bubbling in his eyes, Harry locks on your every move. Your hand massages all over your skin, exploring like Harry would die to do. Your nail polished fingers skim over the black laced panties, teasing your hidden opening. Harry is all for teasing and edging, but this is the most difficult thing he’s ever done. It’s physically and mentally hard to not orgasm on the spot. He will come when you come.

His hand drifts gently over to his own cock, which has greedily come once to your videos. When you go slow, he goes slow, so every minor and delicate movement you make, he replicates and it’s killing him. Finally, after what felt like a decade of torture, you shred your panties off slowly but surely.

Harry’s breath gets caught in his throat at the sight. He had already seen what your body looks like, but it was different knowing this video was just for him. Well, DaylightDaddy. The feeling in him was something primal. He loved knowing that this–all of you–was just for him. He wanted that all the time. He wanted you.

While Harry is copying your motions and lost in his own admissions, he barely notices you grabbing the small pink bullet and turning it on. You gently collect some of your wetness that was leaking out and cover the vibrator. Harry groans to himself at the lewd sight before him; he never imagined you would be such a dirty girl, but he never does know with you.

As you insert the bullet, a loud, breathless moan rolls out from your tongue. He’s mesmerized as your cunt clenches tightly around the object, body consuming the intense feeling. Based on your trembling body and echoing moans, you were going to come soon too. Your sounds were spurring him on, making his hand fly brisker up and down his shaft until his release was near. He didn’t want to close his eyes, but if he imagined your noises good enough, he could translate them as moans of his name.

“Harry…”

Yeah, that sounded like a dream. Like heaven coming from your pouty lips that he thinks about kissing way more than he should.

“Fuck, Harry.”

It almost sounds real. That’s how he knows he’s consumed in you too much for his own good.

“I wish you were here with me…touching me.”

Wait.

When he opens his eyes, you are still on his screen, moaning and falling apart in front of him just like before. But when he replayed the video a few seconds back, you really were saying those things. You were outright moaning his name, chanting it like a fucking mantra, while holding your legs wide open. It was a fever dream, a wet dream. You were lying on your bed with your cunt bare and soaked, whimpering his name and wishing he was there with you.

Losing all form of restraint, Harry fists his cock like never before. His thumb teases his leaking tip for a moment before jacking off with no regret. He feels his balls quickly tense, just like all the muscles in his body at the sight and sound of you.

Your dainty hand floats down to your throbbing clit, rubbing in tight circles in order to get to your high. The arch in your back becomes more prominent and your moans transform into airy gasps when the vibrations become nearly too much.

“I’m gonna come, H. Let me come.”

“Fuck. Let it go. Let it all go, Honey,” he didn’t even think about the words that were leaving his lips. The small nickname was cute. It matched your profile and the sweetness of all you were. You were talking to him as if he would say something back, so he did. He responded as if you were going to listen to him, and he didn’t know if you would, but you did.

Cum spurted from his cock intensely, splattering onto his breathless body and decorating his tattoos. He peeks at his computer screen and watches your orgasm spill out of you heavenly around the bullet. With big breaths, you eventually reach over to your phone and cut the recording, still hiding your face. Stunned to completion, Harry mindlessly reaches over to his nightstand to wipe himself down.

Somehow, some way, you knew it was him. He knew it was you. Harry had a feeling that you knew he knew it was you. So, with some sudden clarity, Harry finally messages you back.

DaylightDaddy [verified]: What are you doing to me?

—

i decide to leave for months, drop this chunk of writing, and leave y’all on a cliffhanger… sorry not sorry!! :D

part two

taglist:

@likeapplejuicenpeach @bisexual-desi @littlenatilda @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle @whoreonmondays @armystay89

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Kinktober (3)- Age Difference

Wanda X Reader 18+

Summary: Separated from the rest of the group, you and Wanda find the perfect opportunity in the kitchen to have some alone time.

Warnings/Tags: SMUT MDNI, Mommy Kink, Oral and fingering (W receiving), Power Bottom Wanda, Implied cheating

Kinktober Masterlist

"Uh I don't think so young lady," your aunt, Natasha, says teasingly, taking the glass of wine you just picked up out of your hand. She simply raised her eyebrow at you, taking a sip herself of the drink as she watched with fake glare.

"Oh come on Nat," you grumbled, leaning back into your seat as your aunt chuckled at you, Wanda also laughing at the display. "Surely I can have one drink ," you stare at her with your best puppy eyes, hoping that even though you're an adult she'll give into the oldest trick in the book.

"You can have a drink when you're twenty one," she says with no room for challenge in her tone, yet you decide to try anyway, what's the worst she can do? Pour it on you?

"Please, everyone else is drinking," you motion to Wanda and Vision who sit together on the couch, Maria who sits in an arm chair and to Yelena who is casually sipping her beer while on her phone, most likely texting her girlfriend Kate. "And I'm basically twenty one, It's only two months."

"Well if it's only two months, I'm sure you can wait," she takes another large sip to taunt you, smirking over the rim of the glass as you groan in annoyance at her. "Also everyone else here is at least over twenty one."

"More like over thirty," you grumble, earning a real glare this time. "Fine," pushing yourself to your feet, you start heading towards the kitchen, "I'll go get myself a drink suitable for a twenty year old." You hear a chorus of laughter and shake your head while making your way through the house.

When you arrive at the kitchen you head straight to the fridge hoping to find something to drink and take back to the group. You frown when all you can see are juice boxes and groan when you remember this is Wanda and Visions house so everything is catered for children. Mumbling a small, "Fuck it," you grab two blackcurrant juice boxes and place one on the counter top while stabbing the straw through the other. You got lost in your thoughts as you moodily drank one of the twins drinks, jumping when a pair of arms wrapped around your middle.

"Hey Detka," she whispers into your ear, body flush against your back. "Enjoying the drink?" she teases making you groan once again, turning in her hold to face her. You stare up at the older woman, admiring her features as she smiles softly at you. Your mouth opens to make a snarky remark but your voice dies down when you feel her hands drift towards your ass and face lower, her lips now ghosting yours. "How about I give you something that tastes a lot better than any drink you can have?" she rasps out, accent delicately wrapping around her words.

"What about Vision?" you murmur, losing yourself in her darkening green eyes.

"He's too busy telling the others a work story," she slowly turns the two of you around, her now leaning against the marble countertop of her kitchen. "So?" one hand cups your jaw, tilting your face upwards to look at her better, "Do you want to make Mommy feel good?"

You lean forward to capture her lips, groaning at the lingering taste of alcohol on her lips and move your hands to hold her waist. You feel her tongue slide over your bottom lip, not hesitating to part your lips to allow her tongue to slide in and dominate your mouth. You groan into the kiss when her hands move up your body, one resting casually on your neck.

"We don't have time to play Detka," she murmurs between kisses before pulling back, "Be a good girl for Mommy and kneel." You practically drop to your knees at her sultry voice, staring up at her with lust-filled eyes as your hands slowly creep up her legs. When you reach the hem of her skirt you stop, the silent question in your eyes answered when she nods and threads a hand through your hair. Swiftly, you lift the skirt so your head can meet her core and groan quietly to yourself when you see she's not wearing any panties, her arousal dripping from her.

"Fuck Mommy, you're so beautiful," you mutter while place a few kisses on her thighs before leaning forwards to lick a stripe up her core.

"Shit Detka," she moans quietly, hands gripping the countertop till her knuckles start to bleed white. "Do you know how turned on Mommy was when she saw you earlier?" her voice breathy as she tries to control her volume, your tongue swirling over her clit not helping her stay quiet. "I was so tempted to drag you into the bathroom and have you on your knees like now, fucking me with that perfect little mouth of yours." You groan into her pussy at her words, one of your hands raising to her core so you could tease her entrance with your fingers. At the same time, you suck hard on her clit and thrust a finger into her, one of her hands clamping over her mouth to muffle the moan that erupted from the back of her throat. "That's it Detka, you're making Mommy feel so good," she praises quickly before placing her hand back over her mouth as you curl your finger inside her.

Your tongue continues to swirl around her clit as you add another finger into her, thrusting both digits into her mercilessly as you're addicted to the sound of the muffled moans echoing around the room.

"You taste so good Mommy," you murmur before pulling your fingers out, earning a low groan in response before a choked moan when you thrust your tongue into her. You relentlessly thrust it into her while your fingers go to her clit, circling it in time with the way you curl your tongue inside her to have her legs shake slightly as she supports herself with the countertop.

" God Detka, " she groans out, "Right there, fuck I'm gonna come." You feel her clench around your tongue, legs trembling by your head as her orgasm washes over her. You moan into her when you feel her cum coat your tongue and help her ride out her aftershocks by slowly circling her clit. Her hands gently push you away when she gets too sensitive, you sitting back on your feet as you look up at her with a dazed smile, her arousal all over your mouth. She pulls you up by the collar of your shirt and crashes her lips to yours, moaning into your mouth at the taste of herself. "Good girl," she praises one last time before she lets you clean your face off with a washcloth and tidies her appearance up.

"How's the drink coming along?" Natasha says while Maria wraps her arm around her middle, both of them holding empty wine glasses as they stroll into the kitchen. They pause in their tracks when they see you with a straw in your mouth, your hand holding the other juice box as you finished the first, while your cheeks seemingly flushed with embarrassment.

"Oh my god!" Maria exclaimed while Natasha burst out into laughter, placing down her glass so she wouldn't drop it. You scowled as they started to tease you for drinking a child's drink, defending yourself as best you could but to no avail. You grumbled under your breath before turning your gaze to Wanda who had a soft smile that lessened your bad mood.

You made your way out of the kitchen to avoid any more teasing but stopped at the door of the living room when Wanda grabbed your hand.

"Meet me later for your reward, you were such a good girl for Mommy."

[thehauntedetheral]

If it’s not too much trouble how about a yandere firefighter. I really like what you write and your ideas are amazing. I hope you take care of yourself and have a great day.

Yan Firefighter x Reader

Requests are open !

• A regular day in your boring office. only the fact that you and your bestfriend were doing your favourite thing to do in this office which is well, your office is right beside fire station filled with handsome strong mens. And everyday during lunch time or in between time most of the ladies including you and your bestfriend would come by the glass wall to look at this handsome, muscular strong mens practicing, exercising and doing their work. What? After all i am just a girl 🎀

"Hey y/n I am thinking of lightning this office to fire just to get carried in the arms of this beauties." Your bestfriend said.

"It's a good idea but no." You said while wishing to do same. You knew your bestfriend was always the joking, chill person.

• Your break got over and you went to your cubicle doing the old boring work. When out of nowhere you smelled like something burning and a second later the fire alarm of office started screaming and water droplets started to spread all over the place.

You looked at your bestfriend and screamed "I told you to not do it."

Your bestfriend replied back screaming "I swear to god I didn't do it". But you didn't believe it.

"We will argue later first let's get out of this place before we get real cooked" your bestfriend screamed at top of her lungs making a point.

You both started running towards exit. Thankfully the fire station was just beside your office. So hoses of water, fire extinguishers and firemens were already at your office saving people.

You were running when your leg sprained out making you moan in pain. God not now! You thought. Due to sprain you weren't able to walk fast but did your best. You looked out for your bestfriend but in the running crowd it was impossible to find someone. Am I gonna die here today? You thought.

• No baby you can't die until yan Firefighter is alive. He won't let anything happen to you. EVER.

• As you and your friend has always been looking at them through glass wall admiring them. The same way yan has been looking for you for quite some time only he is more discreet.

• This man is obsessed with you.

• He watches you whenever he gets any chance.

• Always does his best while doing training and exercise because he knows that you are watching through that glass wall.

• Always tries to overdo everyone as he doesn't want anyone else doing the best and getting your attention. He wants your attention only on him.

As soon as he gets to know your office got caught on fire. He is furious thinking about your safety.

Starts Running the fatest to get you and make sure you are alright.

Searches for you all over the office when his eyes finally lands on you.

As soon as he sees you he just lifts you in his arms bridal style without any thinking carrying you out side finally feeling relieved that you are safe.

You are in his arms. Just feeling you in his arms makes him smile like crazy.

You feel safe in his strong large arms. Soon you are out of the building your bestfriend running towards you "God I was so scared when I didn't found you outside with me. Thank God you are safe." Your friend all serious which she rarely is in life.

Yan Firefighter places you on your feet even if he doesn't want to and just wants to feel you in his arms.

You thanked him for saving you while he just said "just doing my duty, mam" while looking at you with heart eyes.

"I have to say you were looking so good in his arms you two should probably date" your bestfriend said chuckling again going to her casual self back after fussing over you.

You want to punch her in face for saying this comment as you are red as Tomato now and you could feel that the firefighter who saved you would be embarassed too only to find out upon looking at him he was blushing like crazy upon hearing the sentence. While your bestfriend enjoyed the free show you were providing for her.

To clear the awkwardness yan Firefighter clears his throat and says "I should move back to see if anyone needs my help even though almost everyone are out".

You just nodded at him still a bit red. Definitely from fire not from the earlier sentence you said to yourself.

Yan Firefighter started to move back before turning back to look at you and say " By the way after work would you like to go on a date with me y/n?" He asked a bit shy and scared of rejection.

"Yes. Sure after all you saved my life" you said smiling making him smile and run towards his team.

Seems like you wouldn't have to punch your bestfriend after all. Atleast this fire did something good to you.

"y/n please make me maid of honor in your wedding after all i set you two up" your bestfriend said jokingly while you bump your shoulder with her. Smiling like crazy waiting for your date tonight.

Requests are open!

For more yandere reading :

[cvnntagious]

Have My Baby | C. Sturniolo

"where'd you come from, with all these statements? / only thing i wanna know is, can you have my baby." -chief keef

pairing : toxic!chris x fem!reader

summary : when a sweet date night with your boyfriend turns into arguing in the restaurant, chris wants to let you know he still loves you, even though he doesn't act like it most of the time.

warnings : use of y/n, mentions of cheating, arguing, swearing, use of bitch in a derogatory way, lowkey angst??, manipulation, smut, p in v, riding, talk of breeding, pet names (baby, princess, ma), 18+

a/n : please don't point out how i keep posting everything BUT the requests i've gotten… i also made a bot for this so enjoy

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

The fancy restaurant you sat in buzzed with chatter, lit with only the dim, warm lighting of the expensive glass-beaded chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. Chris set his menu down with a small, content sigh, smiling at you as he looked into your eyes. "Know that I want," He said simply, placing his hands in front of him on top of the menu, "You?"

You looked up from the menu, matching your boyfriends smile. "What're you getting?" You asked him before setting your menu down in front of you as well, still opened, "I'm a little stuck. Maybe we can share?"

The gesture could've been seen as some type of romantic 'Lady and the Tramp' scene, if it weren't for the underlying tension. You two had never been good together. The way you practically had to beg Chris for two days straight to take you out tonight said it all, and yet, you both sat disingenuously and played house day by day. Even so, all this fancy bullshit had only been enough to fool your boyfriends fans, but everyone else around you guys saw. They saw the way Chris' shitty antics affected you - How they'd caused you to vie for his attention in the same shitty ways he did yours.

There was a flicker of something you couldn't quite make out in Chris' eyes, but he maintained that same smile. "Pasta, like always. You don't like Alfredo," He answered, his tone sweet, making it so that no one around would notice the complaisant undertone like you could.

Of course he'd be like this, how stupid of you to assume he'd enjoy himself tonight. His attitude made you remember how silent he was while you got ready for your date after he finally agreed, only watching you get all dolled up while he wore his usual beanie and t-shirt. Your shoulders dropped when you caught the insincerity, eyes flicking to look at the menu once more as your smile faded. You took a minute to examine while Chris watched from across the table, opening your mouth to say something when you were ready, only to be cut off by the dinging notification on your phone.

Instantly, your head snapped to your phone not far from the menu, reaching to grab it. "Forgot to turn off my ringer." You gave him an uneasy chuckle, flipping the switch on the side of your phone.

"Who's texting you?" Chris asked, smile now gone and hands to the side of him when you looked up at him.

You sucked in a sharp breath before clicking the power button to check the contact. "My mom," You answered, hearing your phone buzz a few more times on the table.

"Seems important, you should text her back."

Hesitantly, to his wishes, you picked your phone off the table and unlocked it with your face. You clicked on messages to type a reply, feeling your phone being snatched from your hands before you could even read the texts for yourself. "Chris-"

He hummed as he read the messages, his face sour with your phone held up to it. "Baby pictures," He replied, sounding disappointed.

A huff left your mouth when you saw him going to type for you, making you reach over the table and snatch your phone from him. "The fuck?" Chris raised his voice a bit, causing people at surrounding tables to glance over.

"I'm not a cheater like you, asshole. Don't sound so down about it." You ignored the agitated charge in his tone as you tweaked your neck at him, speaking in a low tone and giving him an almost disgusted look.

Chris rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Oh please, don't be a bitch about stupid shit. I've never cheated and you know it." His tone was sassy, tongue prodding at his cheek.

The scoff that came from you was so bitter, it almost had Chris leaning over to spit the taste of it out of his mouth. "Only 'cause I caught you before you could actually meet up to fuck her." The blunt words caused a pain in his chest, though he'd never admit it. He kept his composure in front of you, not even flinching at the daggers your eyes threw at him.

He shook his head dismissively, looking up at the light fixtures above you two. "I can't stand you sometimes."

That instant click of your tongue he knew so well made Chris' eyes snap back to your face, knowing he'd really ticked you now. "Ya know what? I shouldn't have even forced you to take me out on a date for once," You stood from your seat, grabbing your belongings as calm as you could in hopes to not alert other people simply enjoying their meals, "I knew it was too much for you to handle. Especially in these times where you 'can't stand' me."

Chris watched with parted lips as you walked away from the table, stiletto heels clacking against the marble floors. You thanked the hostess, letting her know you wouldn't be dining here tonight in a sweet tone before turning to the door. It took a moment, but eventually Chris snapped back into reality, rushing out of the doors to catch up to you.

You already had your hand on the door handle of your car when he finally caught sight of you again, making him sigh in relief that you hadn't already taken off. Your eyes met his when he made it to the tail of your car, sighing before opening the front door. "Get in, you scrub," You demanded in fed up exasperation as you slid into the drivers seat.

━━★

The ride home had been silent, and it was no different for the walk into your house. You hung your purse up on the hooks nailed by the door, Chris walking past you and stopping at the bottom step with his hands in his pockets. Why didn't you just take him home and go back to your place? You hadn't a clue. You really had no intentions of talking things out— at least not tonight.

There were many things you didn't have a clue about. Like why you hadn't left him back when you guys were seventeen, when he'd hid you and played with your feelings all the way up until he realized he could brag about you when he started doing YouTube. You could've really put your foot down when you guys were eighteen and he'd told you he could never love you. You should've told him to fuck off back when you were nineteen and caught him practically sexting multiple other girls for the first time. But now he's twenty, all rich and famous, dragging you out to LA with him and his brothers, and he doesn't even feel the need to show any sort of appreciation for everything you do for him.

"You look gorgeous," He mumbled as you walked past him, making your way up his stairs with tall heels on, to which he wrapped an arm around your waist from behind to guide you.

The stinging from you swatting him away from you was nothing compared to the stinging way you'd walked out of the date you so desperately pleaded with him for because he couldn't manage one peaceful night with his girlfriend. "I don't need your help." You placed your hand on the wall as you picked up your pace to walk a few steps ahead of him.

Chris sighed, slowly but surely trailing behind you. By the time you'd made it to the stairwell leading down to his room, he'd just made it to the top of the stairs at the entrance, searching your irritated face as you rounded the corner. His pace picked up significantly when he saw you take the first step down without even thinking to take your shoes off, afraid you'd fall or something. He grabbed you again, this time hooking your arm on his. "Please," He said gently, not wanting you to push him away this time.

Again, you huffed, reluctantly allowing him to guide you down the stairs like he was some gentleman, though you knew he wasn't. "I'm so tired of you." You started, unable to help yourself. You were just so frustrated with him all the time.

His eyes on the ground, Chris licked his lips at your words, genuinely ashamed of himself for tonight. "I know, baby," He assured you, surprising you when his words came out remorseful, "I know."

"Don't 'baby' me, you ruin everything," You continued on, ranting out of a mix of sadness and anger. "What am I? Just some girl you flaunt to a camera as if you're some awesome, amazing boyfriend?"

He looked up at you, eyes drooping like a child being scolded as he opened his bedroom door for you. "I love you." He simply replied as he let go of you, voice barely above a whisper.

You walked into his room freely, finally taking your shoes off. "Every time you start some stupid 'I love you' shit, I physically cringe," You began an almost entirely new rant, Chris grabbing your heels from your hands to set them neatly aside as he listened intently, "Because, fuck, I love you, but I'll never ever believe you feel the same after what you said to me years ago."

"So was I. And now what? You're gonna say you didn't mean it?" You cut him off, "Even freshly eighteen, I'd never say some stupid shit like that to put you down, whether I meant it or not."

Chris hummed as he turned back to you, "I was young-"

"So was I. And now what? You're gonna say you didn't mean it?" You cut him off, "Even freshly eighteen, I'd never say some stupid shit like that to put you down, whether I meant it or not."

"You don't understand," He took a few steps closer, "Y/n, I'd do anything for you."

You crossed your arms as you looked at him, not buying it. "Oh, I'm sure you would, Christopher."

The sigh he let out at your sarcasm actually caused you to snap out of your angry haze for a moment, feeling a bit sorry for him for some reason. Of course, he had this chewing out coming for quite some time now, but you'd never expected yourself to be so blunt about everything out of nowhere. "you're just so much better than me," He said in a defeated tone, features soft as he looked you up and down.

At any other given moment, he would've said that in such a condescending tone, but it was almost as if he didn't have it in him to pick and egg on the argument like normal. "I want nothing than to spend the rest of my life with you," He breathed, stepping closer to wrap his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder.

"Chris, what're you-"

He cut you off with a kiss, much more gentle than any kiss you'd ever gotten from him before. His fingers made his way up to underneath your chin, lifting it to move the kiss from your lips to underneath your jaw. "We could do so much together," He picked up his head, hands sliding under your cute, flowey shirt, "We should've done so much more together by now."

You looked at him with a confused expression, like you were unsure of if he was being serious or not. "I wanna start a family with you," He punctuated his words with kisses down your neck, "And get married. All that sappy shit."

"You're such a fake," You replied as he gently pushed you down on his bed. This, like other times, had to be some sort of manipulation to keep you from leaving, and deep down you knew it. Yet, for some reason, you always ended up letting him have his way with you. Of course, the sex was good, but was it good enough to endure the torture of Chris Sturniolo himself?

Even so, when your boyfriend crawled on his bed to attach his lips to yours from above you, you opened your legs for him to slip himself between. Chris groaned when you reached your hand around his neck to play with the tufts of hair just at the base of his skull, ultimately pulling his kiss in deeper. "A fake?" He feigned offense, "You have no idea how i really see you."

"A little hard when you claim to hate me." You forced out a chuckle, shifting uncomfortablely benath your boyfriend.

Chris sucked in through his nose. "Don't be like that," He breathed before allowing his head to dip just under your chin, peppering kisses along your exposed collarbone.

You rolled your eyes, chin subconsciously lifting to give him better access. His motions only served to dampen your panties. Your hand rose to fall into his soft curls, massaging tenderly at his scalp. Chris groaned at the contact, lips exploring your body in slothish motions. He was in no rush.

Finally, he lifted his head again, kissing you so quick and gently that it'd almost felt like he caressed your lips with his. He wasted no time in sitting up against the headboard, pulling you onto his lap in that same motion. "Healthy or not, I could do this every day," He said softly, reaching up to brush his thumb over your cheek, "And this-" He didn't finish his sentence, hands roaming down the fabric of your dress in admiration.

He was so right— The problem is that this wasn't healthy. But fuck did you guys know how to forgive each other, with as much as you knew how to get on each others nerves. You exhaled softly at his words, somehow feeling content by them. Your arms wrapped around his neck, resting on his shoulders, "Sad to say I could too."

"I know."

With that, he grabbed your ass and lifted it from his lap, then letting go to unbuckle his jeans. He pulled them and his boxers down simultaneously, freeing the erection you hadn't even yet noticed. He wasn't interested in fully undressing himself, and he wasn't interested in undressing you at all. With how sexy you looked all dressed up for your guys' date? There was no way in hell. He reached to bunch your dress up at your waist, fingers dipping to press against the wet spot on the fabric of your panties. "Perfect, you can't resist me," He hummed out, lifting you over his aching cock.

"I can," You tried to fight back, only for your argument to be diminished by the way he ran his tip through your folds, eliciting a whimper from you.

You practically broke down on top of him, your legs on either side of his as you held onto his shoulders for support. He allowed the head of his cock to tease your aching clit and dripping entrance to no end, making you unable to hold back the pants the soft caressing on it forced out of you with your face now buried in his neck. "Chris," You whined, causing him to chuckle.

His hand let go of the base of his dick, gripping your hips to plop you down onto him with a hiss. You yelped at the way he'd filled you up so quickly, trembling a bit in his grasp. "Stay still, okay ma? G'na fuck a baby into you," He demanded, voice gruff with lust, "You'll know I'm fa'real then."

At that, he began thrusting into you, agonizingly slow as he sucked in through his perfectly straight teeth. You looked down between your bodies, lips parting to let out more sporadic pants of pleasure. Impatience took over him, beginning to thrust into you at a faster and rougher pace. By then, full moans escaped your lips, unable to contain them as he fucked you so good.

He grunted as your jaw went slack, his pace almost animalistic. He was never one for wasting time. He needed to cum. What other way would you carry his child if not for him shooting his warm seed into you? Surely your favorite panties would be soiled by the end of this, and you'd be lucky to keep your dress nice.

w/c : 2.7k taglist : @m4ttsmunch @mattsnumberonehoe @k4yd1 @sturnobsessedwh0re (lmk If you wanna be added!)

[melsimps]

Domesticity Is Bliss

Baby Daddy!Peter Maximoff x reader

Yes, I know I've written about this before but shut up. This is my blog and I make the rules.

Anyway, I've been having some thoughts about dilfsilver again, and as the person that basically invented the tag, I may as well post about it.

Mad? Cry about it.

Okay, so as I have discussed previously, Peter as a dad? Fucking, dilf supreme!

He's on the ball with everything, helping out with baby Luna where he can

Being a total sweetheart, especially when he handles the late night feedings.

"I got this one, Sunshine..." Peter murmurs sleepily, shaking his head as he gently urges you back to sleep, and you practically melt as exhaustion drags you back down

And everything for the most part is pretty easy, as you start settling into things.

The occasional visit from family members, providing support, helps too.

Peter's mother definitely brings out the baby pictures lol

"Oh my god-" you giggle, covering your mouth as Magda and Wanda share in your delight.

"I know-!" Peter's mother agrees. "God, he had such a big head as a baby!

"He's still got one-!" Wanda jokes, rolling her eyes playfully.

At the quick jab at her brother, Magda scolds her daughter warningly - not wanting an argument before she turns back to you.

"Consider yourself lucky that Luna didn't get that from him."

You hum, nodding furiously as you rock your daughter gently in your arms, blissfully unaware of how much you and her aunt and grandmother are dissing her father, who is sulking away in the corner.

...after being thoroughly dissed, you then give him some lovin' to make up for his family's "bullying" (teasing).

"Mmm, don't worry, bubba," you murmur, your head resting on his shoulder as you lovingly wrap your arms around him, his mother and sister long gone from your home. "I still love you..."

A beat of silence.

"...massive head and all..."

When Luna's a bit bigger, and you guys have got a routine going strong, you figure that, hey... she's about six weeks old, you guys can handle having the team around for a couple hours, right?

...maybe.

Off the bat, Peter lays down the law:

Alright," Peter starts, rubbing a hand down his face. "A couple ground rules. Number one, what the ladies of Casa de Maximoff say goes, I defer all decision making to them for the foreseeable future. If mama's tired, you'll give her space. If she's hungry, you'll shut up, and she'll eat." He smiles jokingly as he opens up the door of the suite. "...and if Luna wants anything, she gets it," he adds. "Food, sleep... cuddles..." He looks over everyone: Scott, Warren, Jean, Kurt, Jubilee, and Ororo all standing together and getting comfortable. Peter clears his throat, awkwardly standing in the doorway. "...if my little Luna wants the blood of the innocent, then my little Luna gets the blood of the innocent." Scott scoffs, shaking his head. "Dear God, not even two months old, and that baby's already got you whipped, Maximoff..." He teases. Warren makes a whipping sound in agreement, a playful smirk on his face as he folds his wings up. Peter blinks, staring at the two of them in turns. "Yes, Scott. Both my girls have me whipped," Peter corrects, folding his arms in playful rebuttal. "Because I love them."

...yep, he's a keeper.

Things are pretty comfy, honestly. Everyone's quite chill, handing over presents they never got to while Luna takes everone in, not quite used to so many people, obviously.

And after the hecticness of the afternoon and evening, between conversations and snackage, and... feeling like you did before baby Luna came along, finally, once everything's settled, and its just you and Peter awake, the radio playing slowly.

That's when he asks it.

"Hey, babe..." He murmurs softly, one arm wrapped lazily around your shoulder.

You hum softly, snuggling close.

"You wanna get married?"

Well...

...what else can you say to that, but yes?

[sugairsstuff]

Hii,

I have a request I love protective Rhys so can you do a Rhys x reader where someone insults her and Rhys gets all overprotective and angry, like how dare they insult my mate🤭

I hope you have a great day and thank u for writing it

Bye❤️

i’m sorry for taking so long to write this! i hope you enjoy my spin on the prompt <3

i’m flattered

rhysand x fem/reader

warnings: none

description: a noble has quite a lot to say regarding your appointment to high lady. as much as you’d like to do it yourself, your loving mate swoops in to put them in their place.

Coming to the Court of Nightmares to play pretend in these political dances veiled in the disguise of a party was never something you were excited about through all your immortal years of knowing Rhysand. So, naturally, you were feeling an extra weight of anxiety now that you would be attending as the High Lady of the Night Court—therefore a major piece in what was originally just Rhysand and the Court of Nightmare’s game of chess. You understood your mate morphed himself into an entirely different person as he believed that the one way to keep this imbalanced section of the Night Court under order was to keep them intimidated with the illusion of a cruel leader—for who would challenge someone who held no moral bounds?

While your mate had years—if not centuries—of practice in carefully carving this mask to wear at a ball that wasn’t even a masquerade, you had only been High Lady for two years. Before that, you kept your head low or simply did not attend the events held in this part of the court. It goes without saying that you were extremely prone to criticism, which was especially worrying in a place that was kept under control through the guise that they were not allowed to question their authority.

Alas, your lover insisted that it would be better for you to attend with him. Rhysand promised that you were safe there in his company (and that the food and drinks would be to your liking), while urging that it was better to show your face and prove that these Fae did not make you afraid than stay behind and let them mumble amongst themselves. Because, of course, this court was no longer run by only the High Lord, so now you needed to demand respect as well.

Standing in the mirror, you decide that at least it was somehow easing to be wearing such an elegant gown to the ball. With long sleeves and a deep plunge, your black dress hugs your curves and falls over your hips to the floor. You thought it was a nice touch that the ends of the long skirt are flecked in white that gave the illusion you had just waded through a pool of stars. Your hair is done up nicely as well to flaunt your neck and the silver jewels decorating it, the light piece of jewelry falling deep on your chest.

“I’m wondering if bringing you may be a mistake after all,” a familiar voice hums lovingly behind you. You whirl around from the mirror, brows furrowed as you watch your mate expectantly for an explanation.

Rhysand chuckles, raising his hands in a surrendering gesture as he pushes himself off of the doorframe he was leaning against, “You are one beautiful distraction, darling. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to stay focused on politics when I have the brightest star in Prythian right at my side. That’s all.”

You roll your eyes regardless of the fact you’re now sure you didn’t need to put blush on when doing your make up earlier. “Oh, yeah, cover it up, Mr. High Lord,” you huff in faux annoyance, though perhaps some real insecurity.

Rhysand was quick to notice that, and even quicker to invade your personal space by wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you to his chest. “Don’t forget Mr. High Lord needs his Mrs. High Lady there,” he coos, grinning when his cheesy words evoke a sweet laugh from your lips.

You decide to change the topic rather than continue to brood over the inevitable reality of the ball you are about to be an unwanted spotlight in. “Is everyone else ready?” you ask, thinking of your friends who also are expected to be attending due to political reasons. Azriel, Cassian, and even Mor were always expected to at least show their faces.

Rhysand nods idly, clearly too distracted by you to shift his mind to be thinking about them. “They’re waiting, but I’m sure they won’t mind it if we’re a little late,” he says, grinning like a feline as he leans down over you to try and capture your lips with his. You evade Rhysand’s flirtatious attempts to seduce you by leaning back and resting your palm against his chest.

“Nuh-uh. No way am I being late to this thing,” though you pause and return his playful grin, “though if it goes well, maybe we can celebrate later. The zipper on this dress is pretty difficult to undo,” you hum.

“I’d be glad to lend a hand with that.” he winks, smiling like a fool as his boyish attitude earns yet another laugh from you.

Rhysand was a tempting sight to be seen, though. It appears as though he wanted to make you two look like dynastic royalty with the way you both are dressed, perhaps to look utterly untouchable to the rebellious crowd you are about to endure. His suit was pitch black, tailored perfectly to hug his V-shaped waist and embroidered with deep purple lacing at its hems. His sleek black hair is pushed back with what you assume is gel, though either by Rhysand’s doing or its own failure some of raven strands had fallen down over his forehead. You couldn’t help but make the allusion of you being the stars and him being the milky way.

“Alright, let’s go before you get too carried away,” you insist. And with that, Rhysand pulls you closer to him and winnows you to where your friends wait—some more impatiently, as Azriel stands with his arms crossed and an accusing expression at the two of you for being late.

By the time you arrive in the Court of Nightmares, you realize the party wasn’t starting without Rhysand and you. The throne room was done up extravagantly to meet the expectations of the High Fae citizens of Hewn City, the pure silver decorations a stark contrast to the deep, shiny ebony that the room was etched from.

Beautiful faces all around the room turn to watch you and your mate enter, their drinks idle in their hands and their conversations paused so that they can get a good look at the new High Lady. You swallow, keeping your chin up and moving on to the main floor alongside your mate. The back of Rhysand’s hand brushes yours, and when you turn to look up at him you see that he’s offering you his arm. You link your elbow with his, allowing him to lead you the rest of the way into the parted crowds.

When the pair of you begin to near the dais, you see only one throne sits at the centre of it. Rhysand seems to have this planned, though, as he gently guides you away and lets go of your elbow once you reach a small cluster of nobles. Of course, it all came down to symbolism and perception, because rulers who are supposed to be equals should have their own thrones to sit, and holding on to you when not walking would be seen as more controlling than chivalrous.

“High Lord, it’s been quite some time since you’ve visited,” one of the Fae spoke. Her features were sharp and dark, brought out by her even darker makeup. To your surprise, she turns to look at you, “And you’re not alone. You must be our new High Lady, I’ve never seen you at any of the parties here.” the nameless female hums, her gaze dragging down along you. You can see in her brown eyes she finds nothing to criticize as she releases a small ‘hmph’ of both disappointment and approval.

“Yes, I am. I’m glad to finally have the opportunity to visit Hewn City properly.” you respond, offering a small, neutral smile. You decided that maybe if you treat these people politely, and not allow any snide remarks to outwardly anger you, they would see you as immune to their judgment and would back down.

The female raises her brow. Rhysand later would tell you her name is Emelia, daughter of a family known for trades. But when you glance to your side, you realize your mate has been pulled aside with Mor in what looks like an unpleasant conversation with Keir, the steward of Hewn City.

Emelia decides to strike while you’re alone, having no respect for someone who, technically, wasn’t her direct authority, “Well, that makes it sounds like you weren’t allowed to visit the Court. Why, does your High Lord keep you at arm’s length?” she drawls, sipping her golden-flaked wine in a weak attempt to hide her triumphant smirk.

Your back straightens, stunned for only a moment at her implication. “Well, it’s just a little difficult finding free time to revel so often when there are duties I must see to for the Night Court as a whole. I’m not sure if you will understand, however, considering how many of these occasions you’ve mentioned you spend your time going to.” you quip, quickly realizing that being nice and courteous to people wouldn’t work, and that Rhysand was unfortunately right to maintain equilibrium in Hewn City through intimidation.

You leave Emelia fuming in your wake, not bidding her a farewell as you head to Rhysand who now converses with Keir alone. Your mate looks relieved when he sees you coming, moving like a wisp in your black dress across the ebony throne room. The male to his left, however, looks less than pleased to see you coming in contrast.

“Keir,” you greet as Rhysand bends to kiss your cheek in loving greeting.

Keir only says your name in return before looking to Rhysand. “Well, that’s all from me, enjoy your fun, Rhysand.” he says, sending a scrutinizing look your way before departing.

Your mate lets him go without the satisfaction of a response. Rhysand sighs, turning to face you and reaching a hand to adjust the positioning of your necklace. His hand brushes against your collarbone as you meet his eyes. “Was she giving you trouble?” he says, recalling that he had to leave you with Emelia, “I felt some tension on your end of the bond,” he murmurs, careful of the level of his voice due to the room being full of prying, pointy ears.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you assure him, taking your turn to do some adjusting by straightening the sculpted fabric of his overcoat. You thought you had managed yourself well with Emelia, who you assume was somewhere between a jealous young female to another rebellious citizen spewing the opinions fed to her by others, and your confidence began to return until you and Rhysand were silent enough for a conversation to reach your ears.

“Look at her. Dressed like a queen and yet she does nothing for the Night Court,” a male voice scoffed. You hear female and male voices laughing almost forcefully in adoration. The male continues, his voice only slightly muffled from the crowd and the distant music, “All I’m saying is, I don’t even work in politics and I could probably do a better job than her.”

After some more irritating cackling, a female voice pipes in, “The dress is tacky, anyway.”

With your heart in your stomach, you don’t even have the chance to look around and locate the owners of these voices as you notice your mate has already walked the few feet over to the small group near the edge of the throne room.

You worry that following after your mate and standing there as he, you assume, chides the yapping male, you make your way to the nearby refreshment table. Azriel thankfully stands there, who seems to be avidly trying to blend into the wall in order to avoid conversing with the unpleasant guests.

“Pretend we’re having a conversation. I’m eavesdropping.” you tell him once you arrive, and Azriel responds with a joking ‘yes, ma’am’ as you become another one of the pointy-eared eavesdroppers.

“Cielo,” you hear Rhysand drawl, a wicked grin on his face as he inserts himself into their conversation. Satisfaction begins to lift your heart back into place as the group’s laughter comes to an abrupt halt.

“Are you implying you think you’d be a better High Lady for me?” Rhysand hums, brow raising at Cielo, who now looks stiff with embarrassment. “Really, I had no idea you harboured such feelings for me, I’m truly flattered.” Rhysand continues just enough so that Cielo’s friends have turned their amusement to their rather humiliated looking pal.

Rhysand takes a step forward, a few inches taller than the glaring male. “I’d hate to break your heart, but if you ever speak about your High Lady and my mate in such a disgusting manner again, I will make an example out of you as to exactly what the punishment is for disrespecting your authority.” and just as his friends began to snicker, Rhysand’s sharp violet gaze turns to them. “And that goes for all of you,” he snaps. Rhysand stalks away, leaving the small crowd of Fae in silence as he finds you next to Azriel.

“You know,” you say cheekily, “I could’ve handled that, too.”

Rhysand sighs as he takes a glass of wine from the table, likely wanting some alcohol to stroke away the flames of his temper. “I know, darling. Sorry for beating you to it, I just couldn’t stand by and listen to them spit bullshit like that.” he scoffs. You can’t be bothered to be mad—too busy gleaming in triumph and pride over your love’s protectiveness.

“Well, I think they learned their lesson,” you giggle, glancing to the group who now watch you and Rhysand in weariness rather than entitlement.

“Good. If they can’t appreciate what you do for them, they could at least keep their mouths shut.” he hisses. You rest your hand on Rhysand’s elbow to bring his attention back to you.

“Why don’t we dance? That way, no one can judge us for not speaking to anyone.” you suggest.

Rhysand takes your hand and kisses the back of it, “I like the sound of that.” he agrees.

After a night full of dancing and more inevitable political conversations, you and Rhysand winnow back to the House of Wind as you call it a night. You find yourself standing in front of your long mirror, trying to reach back to undo the finicky zipper of your dress. You see Rhysand take a step closer to you in the mirror and feel as his hands snake into place on each side of your waist.

“So, how about that celebrating?” he grins to your reflection.

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!reader

Word Count: 1493

Chapter 35:

Jen helped keep Lilia focused on the present and not let her mind wander or get distracted by anything that might slow them down.

Those swords were still hanging above, and everyone doubted would remain there if you kept losing time.

As if the room had heard your thoughts, the ceiling slowly started to go down; bringing the swords closer and closer to you.

"We didn't even put any cards down!" Agatha shouted, glaring at practically anything.

The road was starting to get on her nerves.

"Maybe no cards are as bad as the wrong ones." Billy suggested.

You looked at Lilia again, who seemed for a moment to be lost somewhere else; her mid wandering off to a different memory of the past.

You grabbed both her shoulders and shook her faintly. "Lilia! Focus on me!" You shouted, trying to bring her back to the present. You were not sure what was going on, but now it was neither the time nor the place to question her. "We need your Tarot Expertise"

Wasting no time, Lilia walked towards the table; her eyes immediately falling on the cards both Billy and Agatha had put down.

"Who massacred this spread?" The old witch questioned, making the two culprits point a finger at one another.

You held back a chuckle at the scene, and if you were not racing against time to avoid impalement; you would have definitely enjoyed the moment more.

But alas, your time was ticking, and there wasn't exactly any true indication of how long you had before the trial was over.

"Who's the querent?" Lilia asked next, looking at her coven.

Billy looked around at the women for a moment. "You mean the subject? Me. I guess I'm the queer-ent." He was amused by his own bad joke, but the smile disappeared as quick as it came the moment you slapped the back of his head.

He turned to look at you, one hand placed against the spot you had smacked him; lips parted in a theatrical hurtful expression.

"Now it's not the time for pun jokes," you reminded him, surprising the teenager with the fact that you knew what a pun was in the first place. "Just get your reading so we can get out of here,"

You almost pushed him towards one of the chairs and forced him to sit, as Lilia took the seat across and grabbed the deck before passing it to him.

"The querent shuffles and cuts." She informed as the coven gathered around.

Agatha rolled her eyes. "Lilia, we don't have time for this."

"Shuffles and cuts," she repeated stubbornly. Billy immediately obliged. "Now, please ask your question."

Of course, nothing could go smoothly as Jen and Agatha started to argue again; honestly making you wonder if they also had some sort of former romantic relationship.

Their arguments were not helping with the situation, pressuring Billy more and taking time from the reading.

The two witches continued and dragged Lilia with as tried to defend the rules of the Tarot to Agatha; who clearly had no respect for this particular witchy art.

It was only you who noticed the swords coming down once again, the roof slowly approaching as your end was getting nearer and nearer with each passing second.

"Ladies," you called then out, hoping to stop them while refusing to take your eyes off the swords; fearing if you did, one would kill you in the next second. "Ladies!" You called louder, hoping to be heard above their arguing and the mechanism pulling down the sword covered roof.

Billy was watching all this time, seeing the swords coming down and no one able to help; cause this was on him. At that moment of thrill and worry, at the face of certain death; he dared to ask the one question he had deep within his heart.

The very same question he feared to even think feared to get any answers to.

"Am I William, or am I Billy?" He asked, practically shouting above the noise.

"That's a very good question," Lilia said with a gentle smile, knowing in most detail of his feelings on the topic; considering he did take over the body ofna dead boy and pretended to be someone else's son. "This is the Safe Passage spread," she continued explaining and pulled out the first card. "The first card is you, the Traveller. Next comes What's Missing, the reason for your quest. Here is the Path Behind, wounds suffered, lessons learned. Here is the Path Ahead, a space for growth and discovery. Of course, you will face obstacles preceding a potential windfall. Uou must overcome all to reach your destination."

As Llia explained each card placement on the spread and what would represent depending on the card, Jen, you, and even Agatha were listening intensely; equally drawn by Lilia's words.

Jen was the first to notice that Agatha was actually paying attention for once and did not seem ready to comment, which was odd for her.

"What, no snide remarks?" Jen teased, always in the mood to try and rub some salt on Agatha's wounds and prove her wrong.

Of course, Agatha was not going to make it any easier for her. She kept her chin up. "Made sense to me."

You rolled your eyes, cleared your throat, and moved to stand between the two women. "If you two are done. Time is ticking, and this is Billy's reading, not yours. "

Being called out like that and realizing you were making a valid point, they just mumbled under their breaths, but the two witches did not dare to continue their little quarell.

You looked at Lilia, who nodded faintly in appreciation for stopping the noisy duo from interrupting any further. You replied with a head nod of your own, though you could still not shKs the feeling that something was off.

The Tarot Cards were definitely Lilia's trial, and yet the questions were about Billy's Path. It just didn't click right in your mind, simply because this was not how the trials worked.

Each trial circled around a deep fear for each member, a fear they had to face, and a challenge that needed to be overcome as a coven.

So, if it was Lilia's trial, why was there nothing about her journey in the cards? Why the sudden focus on Billy?

While you were contemplating those questions in your mind, Lilia proceeded to draw two cards for Billy; the Magician and the Sun.

Yet both those cards did not seem to please the trial, for the swords changed and one landed top close to Jen; causing her to grab your upper arm subconsciously as she moved more into your personal space.

That was not something that Agatha liked, evident by her hard glare towards the Potions Witch; envy and jealousy flashing in her blue eyes... when she noticed.

The swords shaking and as she dared to focus on one, she saw it detaching from whatever invisible string was held; heading straight for Lilia.

In a surprising act of selflessness, Agatha tackled Lilia off the chair and to the ground; just as the sword pierced her chair.

An involuntary gasp left your lips, and your hands covered your mouth, eyes wide at the near death experience that you just witnessed. If Agatha had been a second slower or if she hadn't managed to push Lilia down with the first try...

You shook your head, trying not to think about the outcome.

Instead, you simply stood there and watched as Agatha was forced off; Lilia clearly fought her despite the magicless witch trying to explain that she had just saved her life.

Once both women were up again, you passed a hand over your hair; having almost forgotten the odd but rather unique crown of ice on your head.

"Something we did was wrong... there is no other explanation, " you commented, trying to ease your beating heart.

Jen looked at you. "Yeah, but what are we doing wrong?!" She asked, her tone elevated as she was getting equally stressed. "We followed damn Tarot Rules, Lilia doing the reading as is her trial. So what do we do wrong?"

Jen's words seemed to trigger something within Lilia's mind as she started to realise everything. Her time slips, the random flashes she would get a those years... it all slowly started to make sense.

And she finally had an answer.

"Because he is not the Querent," she suddenly said as she sat at the edge of the chair; unbothered by the sword that had almost impaled her and made her one Vlad the Impaler victims. "I am. This is my reading"

And with those words, she stopped shuffling and cut. Her fingers touched the first card, and her mind's eye immediately got a time flash; the name of the card was known to her before she even turned it.

"The Queen of Cups"

Chapter 36

[lanabuckybarnes]

Empty words.

This has been in my drafts for a bit but it's rotting my brain. I’m sad so I’m making everyone else sad.

Fluff with a sad end. I’m not that good at writing angst.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Insinuated character death?

ALWAYS (Sequal)

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

It was no secret that Bucky had the heart eyes for the little nurse who had just transferred. The way her bright eyes were permanently blown wide giving her that scared little doe look or the way she still looked adorable covered in someone's blood, he couldn’t decide what had made him fall into the jaws of love.

Or maybe it was that time she’d saved his ass, yeah, it was probably that.

Bucky had been out on the frontline when a single wrong move had cost him, a bullet lodged itself straight in the shoulder, only a centimetre from his beating heart. For 3 days he’d been out due to an infection racking his body, punishment for not seeking adequate treatment once it had occurred but when he awoke with a startle and his eyes laid on her soft-looking features he decided that maybe almost dying was worth it.

What he didn’t expect was for his pretty little nurse to be so damn stubborn when it came to his advances.

For the entire time he was in the infirmary he’d tried to wow her with that silver tongue of his, from promises to take her dancing to much more sinful ones— he’d tried it all and she still said no. This would be harder than what he thought.

After having to be practically kicked out of his infirmary bed she’d started receiving small gifts. A single rose appeared first and she’d inhaled its soft scent with a smile before placing it down to complete her paperwork.

A small collection of ration chocolate was next, a sweet gesture that she’d gladly gulped down late at night while reading her favourite novel.

Her favourite though had to be a beautiful handwritten note, the contents filled with words that no other man could ever think of much less write it down. His words were poet-like, she could feel herself begin to swoon.

Eventually, the anonymous sender had bucked up the confidence to deliver his letters by hand, who would’ve guessed it would’ve been the smart-mouthed Sargent? They’d finished that night on the grassy hills of the base, a flask of malt between them, his thick coat around her body while she rested her head softly against his shoulder.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

The next time they’d found time to meet it was hot, far too hot. The men had stripped down, their military coats strewn about the camp and their shirts unbuttoned. Not Sargent Barnes though. He had a date and he intended to look the part.

What a horrible mistake that was.

She’d gotten away early from her duties at the infirmary. They walked along the beach, the sun high in the sky, it was killing him but he’d be dammed if he let her see.

When she turned from her conversation to look at him, a giggle bubbled from her throat.

“Buck you’re sweating, take off that coat.” The collar and back of it were a deep brown from his sweat.

“Ah ah, I gotta look good for my lady” he retorted, truthfully, he was exhausted under those layers and she refused to let him get sunstroke because he was trying to impress her.

Her fingers made quick work of the gold embellished buttons, popping them one by one before setting her sights on the belt. He couldn’t help but grin.

“You know if you wanted me naked, all you had to do was ask Sweetheart” he teased letting his thumb and forefinger pinch her chin- she returned his affection with a sweaty hand to his face, pushing it away softly.

He’d placed his coat on the sand and guided her to sit, following suit just after. They spoke for a while before Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed, she was squinting in the sun and he didn’t like when she was uncomfortable in any way.

“Here” he mumbled removing his hat and placing it gently atop her head. Although he’d acted nonchalant about the whole gesture, he couldn’t bear to hide the true effect it had on him.

He’d leaned forward slowly, placing a large hand around the back of her neck and swallowing her words in a soft kiss. Their first ever one together.

“Makes me happy when you wear my clothes” his voice hummed against her lips, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah? Why is that?” She’d asked with a shy giggle.

“Yeah… it lets me know that you are mine” he replied, sealing their mouths together again, this one full of raw passion and love.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

The barracks celebrations were in full swing, the reason long forgotten about after a few wines. Bucky had come from nowhere, his big stumbling body now stood in front of her and her friends.

“Hey, sweetheart!” He slurred, his body moving extremely quick for his drunken state, swiping her up from her chair and into a tight embrace. The kind that got tighter the more she struggled.

“Are you having a nice night Buck?” Her hands thread through his short fluffy hair, absentmindedly scratching at his scalp.

“Mhmmm” he hummed, a big jolly smile decorating his handsome features.

“Ladies” he turned his attention to the immaculately dressed women, bowing his head slightly in an expression of greeting.

Where had his hat gone? She found herself wondering.

“Do you mind if I steal this beautiful little lady from you? Just for a dance” he didn’t wait for their response, whisking her away.

There was already a handsome crowd of men dancing to the sweet romantic tunes on the radio with their ladies. They fit in perfectly— Bucky’s inebriation never seemed to affect the precise steps of his feet.

She could just about make out the words falling rhythmically from his lips. He was singing.

Bucky lay his forehead on hers, his feet not faltering, even after the song had long finished he never stopped swaying them.

“You..” his voice was slightly rasped from the whiskey “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me” he eventually whispered.

“Bucky-I”

“Shhhh shhh sh. My girl.” He cut her off, grabbing at her wrists to wrap her arms around his neck. To bring her closer.

“Come on Buck, let’s get you to bed” her words cut the quiet air between them. She had to pry herself from him, his face had melted into a pout. It was as though she was looking at a kicked puppy.

His face didn’t change the whole journey back to his tent.

Most of the men had passed out from their drunkenness but the men who were huddled together playing cards happily pointed her in the direction of the Sargent’s cot.

Making quick work of his clothes, much to Bucky’s drunken amusement. She’d pushed him to lie down and rolled his thin cover over his frame.

She pecked at his forehead, whispering a goodnight before standing to leave.

“Stay…” his hand has caught her wrist. His voice sounded small, almost broken. ‘Was he upset? Was it about his mission tomorrow?’

“I don’t want to go tomorrow, I finally have someone to look forward to. I don’t want to lose you” he sniffed, watching as her frame sank to sit on the edge of his cot.

She smiled sympathetically. Letting her hand come up to his cheek and smooth over the skin, collecting a stray tear on its travels.

“I know baby, but It’s your last mission. Then you can take me back to Brooklyn” she’d answered. She wished to continue, she wanted to say more, to comfort him more— no words would come out.

“I fucking love you” he groaned receiving a soft pat on the chest as she pretended to be angry at him.

“Hey now potty mouth, that is no way to talk in front of a lady” he practically hollered with laughter at that, the sound filled with amusement and disbelief.

“There is no woman in the world that would’ve done the things you’ve done to me and still think she was a lady” he joked, the men behind them laughing along with him.

“Sargent James Barnes” her tone accusing but she couldn’t hide the way her lips curled into a smile.

They’d sat in each other’s presence for a while before she stood, finally convinced he’d fallen asleep.

“Baby?” He asked, the words quiet, whistling the air.

“Yeah?”

“When I get you back to Brooklyn, I’m going to marry you so quick”. She could feel tears springing to her eyes at his confession, a confession she hoped would come true.

She leaned forward quickly, capturing his lips by surprise in a passionate kiss. His lips moved sloppier than usual but he kept up with her.

Pulling away gently she looked into his big blue eyes, no other emotion but love swirled through them. She pecked his lips for a final time before speaking.

“Come back to me James”.

“Always”.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

She’d been sitting at her desk when Steve had entered, a solemn look on his face.

“Steve, hey. Everything alright?” She’d asked with a smile. She took notice of the coat and hat in his hands, her heart fell first, it knew before the rest of her did, he didn’t have to speak.

“I’m sorry” Steve choked, setting down the items in his hand and turning to leave.

His hat, his coat but not him.

Not Bucky.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

I’m trying to practice writing angst but it’s so harddd.

Why oh why must I want to write sadness when all I can write is smut.

Hope you enjoy.

[harunovella]

bae watch; s.g. - lifeguard!gojo headcanons

a/n: in the midst of working on my gojo series, I saw this still and just had to throw something together! I forgot making hc’s was a thing? would’ve saved me sm time to get out all my fic ideas… anyway, here’s some lifeguard!gojo x beach goer!fem!reader, enjoy (no warnings, just a bit suggestive at the end & not beta read)

- gojo satoru knows he is the hottest man alive, he has no humility in that aspect, it’s just obvious to him… why else would people—specifically mothers—constantly gawk at him when he walked along the sandy beaches in that red lifeguard sweater unzipped, chiseled abs and solid chest on display, and tight (matching) shorts to top it all off? not to mention, the rounded dark shades that he always let slid down his nose to send the ladies winks their way… he’s handsome, he’s sexy, he’s every synonym for attractive known to man

- there’s no doubt the partners of said women (should they be their with a boyfriend or spouse) are dripping in jealousy… how can they compete with that? those ocean ices, snow white hair that shined under the sun lilac and that subtle ton on his smooth skin… all recipes for jealousy. gojo thrived off of it, it boosted his ego… no matter how many times his friends warned him to take it down a notch, the man never cared, this was his serotonin! so of course when there’s a new cutie on the beach during the summer—a new regular—he can’t help but want her attention as well!

- and by her, I clearly mean you. he wants your attention. he’s a slut for it, he needs everyone’s undivided attention on his washboard abs and charming smirk that held pearly white teeth. however, you weren’t giving it to him. you didn’t pay him mind and he wasn’t liking that…

- you, for once, took the summer off from college. sure, you were in a hurry to finish, but your mental health came first and you needed time away…

- the beach was actually in your home town, the school you attended was more inland and you needed to get closer to nature somehow. and that somehow was the ocean blue before you. you didn’t live to far, a good half hour drive depending on traffic, sometimes relying on the bus if you were feeling a bit lazy… most of the time you came with your childhood friends you kept in touch with. most were already working their full time jobs while others were on the same boat as you, managing work and school life. the bright idea of enjoying the summer at the beach almost daily came from one of your good friends and you couldn’t quite turn the opportunity down—you practically grew up on the beach. you just didn’t expect an obnoxious man to obstruct that… let alone, your view. 

- according to one of your friends, gojo satoru was the local hottie… the man everyone wanted but no one could have. a true, living and breathing tease. all sorts of rumors floated around him but you didn’t pay him mind… wasn’t like you were interested anyway! right?

- wrong! who were you to deflect the gojo satoru’s charm? well… at least you tried…

- you spent what felt like days ignoring his every move, the constant flirtation, the obvious need for your attention specifically… you weren’t sure why, he barely even knew you!

- unbeknownst to you, one of you local friends was actually good college friends with him—ieiri shoko

- what you didn’t know was that your belove lifeguard begged and begged and pleaded his old brunette college bestie for any and every detail about you: from your favorite color to your oddest quirk. she didn’t understand why at first, for as long as she’s known the man, he’s never cared for anyone other himself (not entirely true, he actually really loves his friends)… that is until it hit her. he actually had a crush on a girl who didn’t want anything to do with him! how odd was that?

- wasn’t all that odd when shoko was a good people reader and she knew that deep down inside (not too deep) you very much found gojo attractive. she’s seen the way you look at him when he’s not paying attention. she’s seen the way you’ve counted his abs, your eyes bouncing from side to side… and she’s definitely seen you doodle little sketches of him along the margins of the books you were reading in ink… you’re not so innocent yourself.

- thus! she plays matchmaker! she helps her little (but really, giant) white haired friend to get the girl under one condition: he doesn’t fuck it up!

- and he swears tooth and nail he won’t!

- to her surprise, he actually is doing everything to get your attention. not always the right way but he’s trying. he asks you how you’re doing, but then let’s put a snarky remark, only to save it with a compliment out of nowhere. he may be a great flirt to women he actually has no interest in, but when he’s flirting with a girl he actually wants… he’s awful… oddly enough. 

- and yet… you start to fall for that? when those goofy moments slip? he always kills it by trying to play it cool (you wish he wouldn’t) but when that awkward, flustered gojo escapes… it makes your heart skip a beat. makes it race just a little bit…

- maybe that’s why one day you couldn’t help but pull him into a kiss outta the blue. maybe to get a reaction, maybe because you’ve been wanting too—he’s got pink plush lips, who wouldn’t be tempted to? also… maybe you wanted to shut him up because, really, wasn’t it obvious he won you ever? he already had you visiting more than before (alone), he already was sitting by your side on his breaks… you never shooed him away, actually spoke to him, and even brought him food most of the time. was he that oblivious? he just kept blabbering on, thinking he still needed to win you over but, really, it actually wasn’t as hard as he thought (which kinda scared you but here you are, kissing him out in the open as if he wasn’t a lifeguard on duty).   

- you obviously latched onto his jacket, had him yanked your way, maybe even slid in between his legs to get a better angle… gojo maybe have wrapped his massive hands around your waist to keep you there and he may have gotten significantly hard to the point you felt it and couldn’t help but laugh hid it kindly with your extra towel and a “rain check? you know, when you’re not in the middle of watching over people…” and gojo being the fool he is couldn’t help but pout, complaining about “how can I go back to the tower when I’m like this! you have to help me!” 

- and guess what? you know those little changing tents? maybe you two slid into one, maybe you loosened up those shorts that accentuated his thighs and ass and maybe—just maybe—you got on your knees for him as a reward for his efforts of winning you over ♡ 

[mybworlds]

Beyond the Walls

Pairing: Pero Tovar x f!reader (no Y/N)

Summary: You are a princess, you should act like a proper damsel, but you are not and you don't want to be. Luckily, you have an ally on your side.

Warnings: use of you, typical sexism, the main character has female features, but I don't describe her in detail, the image is only meant to represent the moment, nothing else. Fighting against the conventions of the time, the main character wears both women's and men's clothes. Tovar in this story is the protagonist's bodyguard and a knight. Violence graphic.

A/N: Okay, here I am, I woke up with this new idea and here it is. I don't know if I should make it a one-shot or a miniseries, if you want and like please let me know, you know I appreciate your comments.

You run, you urge your horse to increase his pace, you have to lose him. You stop for a moment, but then you think again and decide to cross the fields.

You will do it quicker.

The farmers are not at all enthusiastic about it, some snort as you pass by, others curse you. You smile, you feel so free and light on Callus. Even today you will arrive before him, a triumphant grin bends your lips upwards, you reach and pass the walls surrounding the castle when suddenly he appears in front of you, cutting you off and making your faithful steed rear up.

“I won, Princesa” says your bodyguard giving you a smirk and dismounting from his horse.

“Oh, fuck, that’s not fair!” you blurt out, getting off your stud. “You cheated!”

“Never.” he answers you by taking the reins of his horse and leading it to the stables, you do the same “I went through the main road, you wanted to cheat by going through the fields and destroying all the work of those poor people.”

You laugh, “Please, let’s do it again.”

“Qué? Do you want to destroy the fields again, my lady?” he teases you coming out of the stables.

“Of course not, Pero.” you say “But, you know how I feel when I run, when I'm free to ride a horse, when I can practice swordsmanship with you, when I can be who I really am.” you add.

A few moments later, your mother joins you. Pero kneels, you nod and say “Mother”.

She sighs and shakes her head, “What have you done to yourself, my daughter? Dressed like that, your hair tied up, your face dirty.” She puts on a disgusted expression, “You are a princess and you are a woman. You have some duties to fulfill and you can't afford such obscenities. Dressed as a man!” She tsks “Now go upstairs, I’ve already had a bath prepared for you.”

“You know how I feel!” you reply to what she said. “I want to be free.”

“Daughter,” she uses an annoyed tone “you know that certain liberties are not granted and that only your husband will do this later.”

“I don’t want to get married!” you exclaim while your mother widens her eyes in complete astonishment at your words “I don’t want an old gentleman deciding for me! I am a woman, it's true, but that doesn't mean I want to deprive myself of my life, my choices, my dreams.”

For your mother these are just whims dictated by your age, but according to her you will soon change your mind and indeed you will be happy to marry someone powerful who can give you everything you want and then give yourself the freedom you talk so much about.

What Tovar thinks matters only to you, for everyone he is just your most faithful bodyguard, he is just someone who keeps you safe, who prevents the worst from happening to you, but for each other you are much more than just any princess and her protector. No one knows and it's okay.

For Tovar, you are the bravest person he has ever met and he has met all kinds of people, but no woman has your courage and when you hold a sword you assume that expression so focused and proud that he can't help but feel a deep pride swelling in his chest, when you ride you are absolutely free and you get that expression of absolute bliss and he feels so lucky to still be in this world to enjoy such a spectacle.

You two spend a lot of time together and it was he who offered you that breath you longed for, that freedom that no one else had granted you and for this you are always eternally grateful to him.

Tovar believes that you should be the one to choose what to do with your life, but he also understands that in your case it is not as simple as it seems. So when you confide in him, Pero avoids telling you things like do what you want and run away because he knows you would be capable of it. He offers you long horseback rides on the beach, teaches you how to shoot a bow, has taught you how to use a sword, and on more than one occasion you have gone to the village in disguise. And you loved every single moment of what Pero showed you.

If there was some discomfort at first, now you are fine together. You are so fine that one afternoon when you were out in the woods and you were completely soaked after an accidental fall, Pero offered you his cloak and to thank him you stood on tiptoe to kiss him. Pero was so surprised that he looked you in the eyes for a long time as if to understand if it had been a casual gesture or if you were aware of what you had done. No uncertainty or disturbance changed your gaze, you knew what you were doing.

You have never gone beyond that, although you do not want to submit to certain constraints or duties, you have always and in any case preserved your virtue.

You meet his gaze, sigh and then you go up the main staircase followed by your lady-in-waiting.

“Tovar,” your mother says to the man, “you are an excellent knight and a valuable asset to our house,” the woman continues, “however, I believe you are being too accommodating to her.” She smiles faintly at the knight “I hope you wish to return to those ranks you agreed to honor, but if it were too much for you to do and you couldn't get her to respect you, well, that would mean we would be forced to deprive ourselves of your presence.” the man swallows, the woman is his lord's wife and if he were to be chased away from there too, his wandering would begin again and perhaps something even worse would happen to him. He decides to bite his tongue and simply nods and with a nod of his head takes his leave.

Your maids are supposed to wash your hair, your face, your body, but you dismiss them, asking to be left alone.

You want to be free, you want it so bad. You take a deep breath and then go down into the tub full of rose petals. Everyone — your family — wants to remind you of who you are and where you belong, but your indomitable spirit won’t give up, not like this.

You emerge and decide to fight. You know you won't be alone. You can always count on Pero Tovar.

You dress in a cream-colored tunic, you are determined to go to him, but without wanting to, when you pass in front of the library, you glimpse a light and then hear footsteps: you stop and strain your ears, you open the door slightly and see one of your father's most trusted men and another man you've never seen before, They are apparently not doing anything wrong, but it's the manner and tone that you don't like. They have something in their hands, it's shiny and when you realize what it is, you jump, making a guttural noise that makes you step back and slam into a suit of armor worn long, long ago by your father.

The noise attracts the attention of the two and almost immediately they are at the door, you take another step back, “What are you waiting for?! Kill her!” shouts your father's advisor to the other who he points the gun at you.

Your eyes widen in shock, just then something whistles through the air, then something fast passes in front of you and this movement is followed by a cry of pain. Your attacker lost a hand, chopped off by an axe. You and the councilor turn and see Tovar standing at the beginning of the corridor, you take advantage of that moment of confusion to run to him and take refuge behind him.

Following this event, the castle seems to wake up all at once, excited voices seem to come from every corner.

“Come away, Princesa,” Tovar tells you trying to get you to walk away, but you stare at the other man and are about to tell him that you're going to tell your father what happened and that he won't get away with it, but then the unthinkable happens: two guards appear across the corridor and the counselor shouts “Get them, they were plottin’ something with this man and then they killed him.”

“That's not true!” you try to say, but you know the strong influence that man has on everyone, especially your father. He would be able to say anything and everyone would believe him.

“Run, Princesa, come!” Tovar shouts, dragging you down the stairs with him. You barely have time to leave the castle because they close the gates. When you're apart you look back and for the first time you realize that you're beyond the walls and you're wanted.

You don't know what will happen to your life, your future, your dreams, or your freedom, you just know that the only one who will always be by your side will be your tireless bodyguard, teacher and friend, Pero Tovar.

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Princess

Azriel x f!Reader

One of the series I’m currently working on. Enjoy!

Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse, trauma and death, swearing

Masterlist.

Princess Masterlist.

Chapter 13

You woke up the next morning, all the memories of the session with Helion flooding your mind and you blushed at the thought of Azriel kissing your forehead. Claude was slithering around your hands soothing them with its cold whisper.

“Why did he do that?” you asked with a sigh.

Because he cares. Claude whispered and caressed your cheek.

You hummed and closed your eyes again. It felt good to have someone care about you and the fact that it was Azriel the one who did, gave you too much comfort. You knew that the painful days were over, no one was going to fight you and you could finally enjoy your days here and have a semi-peaceful life. You thought about the mating bond, it would be an awful mistake to accept it, everyone could understand that a relationship between you and him would be toxic and it would probably destroy every chance you had to be a part of the night family. It would be so stupid of you to accept someone who treated you so poorly as a mate and even if he gave you the world, you would always feel naïve for giving him a chance.  So, friends it is. Friends. The thought of Aeden resurfaced, and you groaned. You had forgot about him the past days, you didn’t want to believe that he was a part of that but deep down you knew that you were a stranger to him, he would always choose his brother over you, and you couldn’t hold this against him. Everyone had someone else they would choose over you because they grew up with them and you were new here. You let a breathy laugh at the thought. You didn’t have anyone, you were a stranger amongst families and even if you went back to the winter court you wouldn’t have someone to care about you like they do with each other. Your parents’ death now felt both a curse and a blessing, you were truly alone in this world but at least you had your own personality now, or at least you were building one. Was being your own person enough? Was it something that could fill the void in your heart and mind? Would you do all of this again just to be free? You didn’t know but it doesn’t matter because you’ll never have the chance to decide.

You got up and got ready for the day, your hands were itching but the tremor had stopped, and you smiled. If the tremor stopped with one session you couldn’t even imagine what more sessions would do. You could barely hide your excitement as you practically ran to the dining room ready to explore more of Helion’s abilities. Rhysand, Azriel, Helion and Nesta were already in the room sitting around the table, eating fruits and talking.

“Good morning” you chirped and almost shoved Azriel to the ground when you jumped next to his chair and shoved your hands in his face. “Look the tremor stopped!”

Azriel chuckled at your excitement and leaned back to take a look.

“Woah that’s amazing!” he smiled and grabbed your hands to inspect them more.

Nesta and Rhys were gaping at you while Helion smirked.

You glanced at the high lord of the day court and your eyes watered “thank you so much” you said softly.

“I should be the one thanking you, without you and your trust to me I wouldn’t be able to practice on healing burns.” He said with a sad smile.

You had heard about him and Lady Autumn, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he is practicing to help her heal from Beron’s abuse, afterall his power is fire so he surely burns his wife. No, I’m overthinking, she also has fire power so she wouldn’t get burned. You thought but remained nauseous at the thought.

“You should eat before we have another session” Azriel said and pulled back the chair next to him.

You thought about the pain “maybe I shouldn’t, what if I throw up by the pain?”

He thought about it and sighed. “I will have a bowl next to you just in case. You need to be strong so not eating is not an option.”

He was right, so you took a seat next to him and a plate appeared in front of you.

“I will only eat fruits” you said more to yourself but smiled when Azriel hummed and nodded.

Rhysand was watching you like a hawk, he wasn’t blinking as his eyes moved between the two of you and his jaw fell a bit. Nesta was also watching the whole interaction with a confused look. Azriel filled your plate with different kinds of fruit explaining what type of vitamin each one has and why you need to eat it.

“I’m full” you breathed when he tried to shove a piece of apple in your mouth.

“Okay” he replied and ate it with a shrug.

Rhysand looked like he was having a life crisis. “Are you two…?”

Azriel glanced at you with a smile “we’re friends” he said causing you to smile back at him.

“I never expected this” Nesta joined.

You shook your head “that makes two of us”.

“Three” Azriel mumbled.

“Four” Rhys lifted his hand.

“I would say five, but I don’t really know what’s going on” Helion shrugged, and everyone chuckled.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

After some walking and stretching with Azriel in order to help with digestion and eliminate the possibility of throwing up during the session you walked into Rhysand’s office.

“Let’s do this” Helion smiled, and you took your usual seat on the desk. Azriel brought the belt and Helion stretched his arms.

Everything repeated but the pain was more bearable now, at least that’s what you thought because you didn’t notice how Azriel’s siphons beamed, and how the sweat broke on his forehead. You didn’t notice the way his hands twitched, and how he teared up. You didn’t know that he found a book with wards and spells to take the pain from someone and of course you didn’t know that most of your pain went to his own hands. Helion knew it though because he was the one who did the spell, and this time he didn’t hold back with his healing powers like he had the previous day. So this time the pain was thousand times stronger.

Helion’s eyes focused on Azriel, his expression challenging like he said, “Can you take it” and Azriel gritted his teeth. Of course he could take it, he could take the pain of the whole world in order to help his princess, even though she would never belong to him, even though she would find someone better than him, more deserving than him and she would start a family…. he would be there, lurking in the shadows and taking all the pain away from her. He had realized how much he loves her last night, he realized everything when his heart turned into mist by the sound of her muffled cries when Helion worked on her hands. He spent the night hurting himself for not treating her right, for destroying every chance he had with her and then he searched for the book with spells and woke Helion up to do it. But you would never know that, he would make sure of that. If you knew… you would probably forgive him for the way he treated you and you might even want to be with him and he couldn’t allow that. You deserved someone better, he would keep himself sane after rejecting the bond just to make sure you found said someone and then he knew he would die with a soft smile on his face.

Helion grabbed your other hand and started working on it, making you furrow your eyebrows because he didn’t take a break. You felt even less pain now and you stopped biting the belt. When he stopped Azriel hurried outside without a word.

“What happened?” you asked Helion, and he shrugged.

“We’re done for today” he informed you.

“It didn’t hurt” you noted and glanced at your red hands.

“You’re healing so it’s going to be less painful” Helion replied but avoided your eyes.

You nodded and exited the office with a quick thank you. You reached Azriel’s room and knocked. Silence. Maybe I should leave. You thought but you worried about him so you softly opened the door and scanned the dark room. Azriel was on the bed, he hadn’t changed his clothes, his eyebrows were furrowed in pain as he breathed heavily.

“Az?” you called and moved closer.

He fainted. Claude informed you.

“Why?” you gasped.

I don’t know.

You quickly grabbed a towel and cleaned the sweat on his forehead. Azriel stirred and you stopped.

“It’s okay” you whispered.

He remained unconscious but he grabbed your hand softly keeping it on top of his heart. You stared at him and tried to pull your hand back but he only squeezed it and pressed it harder on his chest. You couldn’t move, your brain begged you to leave but your body remained frozen in spot. Fuck it. You whispered and lied next to him.

@glitterypirateduck, @zara-aliza08, @mika-no-sekai-blog, @purpleshoelaces , @act1839, @fasoaurore, @pinksmellslikelove, @bunnyredgirl, @lectoracronica, @tuggboatfishin, @sunnysideup000, @blessthepizzaman, @raisinggray, @ssmay123 , @kalulakunundrum, @justasillylittlegoofyguy, @tsunami-of-tears, @just-a-social-casualty-1, @thelov3lybookworm, @saltedcoffeescotch, @justdreamstars, @strangersunghoon , @sosuitcandy , @cat-or-kitten, @ohthemisssery, @starsinyourseyes, @no1massassin, @stained-glass-eyes0708, @vellichor01, @hnyclover, @miraclepirate , @amara-moonlight, @bigcreatorwombatdreamer.

[intotitties]

mm maybe a hazel x cheerleader!gf!reader where reader is a little taller than hazel and usually wears heels and that makes her taller and more intimidating, as if the majority of the school pisses themselves in fear every time she passes by except for hazel who only looks at her with heart eyes. Obviously all this if you feel comfortable!

Hazel Callahan x reader

warnings: cursing, mention of broken bones

a/n: it took sm time to write this bc i had 72817938 ideas at the same time but i love the idea

-ˋˏ ༻❀༺ ˎˊ-

-ˋˏ ༻❀༺ ˎˊ-

You were one of the popular cheerleaders who has always been told that she looks scary. When people in the school hear a characteristic noise of heels they immediately get out of the way, knowing that you are coming. Everyone feared you.. except for her.

— Morning Hazee - you hugged your girlfriend from the back in front of the girls from the fight club that she was a member of.

— O-oh good morning - she blushed at your gesture.

— Are we still up for tonight? - you pecked her cheek.

Hazel nodded slightly, her friends from the fight club looking at you both like they couldn’t believe their eyes.

You ran your hand through her hair and left to the class with a smile on your face. The only thing you could hear was Hazels friends whispering behind your back.

— I don’t know what you see in her - Britt said as she sat down on her table.

— Good, i hope no one else than me does - you winked at her.

— No but really, she’s a weirdo - said Isabel.

— You’re literally crushing on Josie, you don’t have the right to speak up - you giggled at which she just rolled her eyes.

— Anyways, are you going to train the choreography with us later? - Brittany asked.

— Isn’t the gym taken by the fight club after lessons? - you looked at your friends.

— We can just tell them that we need to practice, gyms big I’m sure we won’t be disturbing them a lot - she answered before the class started.

-ˋˏ ༻❀༺ ˎˊ-

As soon as the lessons ended, you, Brittany and Isabel went straight to the gym.

Girls from the fight club had already started and you could see Hazel and PJ throwing punches at eachother.

— Hi girls! - Isabel came closer - Would you mind if we use the corner to train our choreography? - she smiled.

— No! - Josie answered immediately - I mean.. go ahead, please - she corrected herself nervously.

She’s such a simp.

You sent a smile to your girlfriend and went to the corner with your friends.

The time passed quickly and in nice atmosphere. You noticed a lot of looks in your direction, which made you smile a little bit.

You were doing the last step of the choreography - backflip. You’ve always feared it the most of all the acrobatic stuff you’ve learned.

But instead of landing on the ground, you tripped on a ball and fell down with a scream.

— Oh my god ladies i’m so sorry, it was supposed to be them! - Tim ran to you immediately.

Of course, he wanted to eliminate the club members.

— You’re pathetic Tim - Isabel said while helping you to stand up.

— Fuck! - you hissed - I swear if you broke my arm, i will end your sad little life.

— Slay girl! You tell him! - Sylvie hyped you up.

— I said that im sorry, now you’re just being dramatic - he said.

— Yeah? So im gonna tell you something - you said quieter - I’ve got videos from the last party and guess who’s the main character? - you looked at him with a smirk on your face - you. so you better leave the club alone, and be more careful next time - your smirk disappeared with the end of the sentence.

You waved him goodbye as he left without any words.

Before you could say anything you felt Hazels body crashing into yours and her messy kisses on your lips. It took you a while to turn it into a gentle yet passionate kiss.

— Thank you so much for dealing with him for us! - she wanted to hug you but you stopped her.

— Please call a doctor first.. im gonna pass out - you said as you looked at the bone sticking out of your arm.

-ˋˏ ༻❀༺ ˎˊ-

[mllersjoel]

good old fashioned lover boy

Pairing: Regency!Wyll Ravengard x gn!reader

Summary: It's dreadfully boring at this ball, especially when Lord Gortash won't stop talking to you. Lord Ravengard steps in, and just maybe, this night can be saved.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: why does no one write for my bb boy. i love him. have some regency au (writing comms r open btw!)

It’s your second year as an eligible member of society, and you are bored out of your mind. Your guardian has dragged you to yet another ball, with dancing and schmoozing that you would rather die than be doing. Thankfully, you’ve managed to avoid just about everyone who wants to sign your dance card with a glare or pretending to choke so hard tears well up in your eyes. You came here because your best friend, Astarion, promised to accompany you this time and fill up your dance card with his name only, but that plan swiftly fell out the window as he laid eyes on a pretty half-elf.

You could see him check out of the conversation, eyes flitting to them then back at yours. 

“Just go, Astarion,” you sigh, shoving him playfully.

His eyes blink back to yours, trying and failing to pretend like he wasn’t ogling another person. “I have no idea what you’re on about, darling.”

“I can handle myself and it’s pathetic watching you try to concentrate on me. Go.”

Astarion smiles broadly, kissing your cheeks. “Have I ever told you you’re the light of my life?”

You snort. “Just when you want something.”

He shrugs, taking your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “If you need me, just shout.”

He leaves, and you’re barely able to let out a breath before another man (greasy, looking like he needs two decades of sleep) takes his place. Without asking, he signs his name on your dance card. “Enver Gortash, Lord of this estate. Care to dance with me?”

You are pulled to the dance floor before you can even answer and you desperately try to come up with an excuse. “I—I can’t dance right now,” you protest, attempting to extricate yourself from his grasp without seeming rude, “I’m waiting for someone.” He ignores you, laughing. 

“Don’t play coy,” he says, assuming a waltz position. The music begins, and you have no choice but to dance with him. You catch Astarion’s eye and watch him square his shoulders, ready to pull you out of there as you minutely shake your head at him. 

‘Don’t make a scene,’ you mouth.

The entire time you dance with Lord Gortash, he drones on and on about his estate, how he fought for his wealth (although it was an open secret that he participated in less than savory business practices), and how immodestly he thinks women are dressed now. The song feels like its going on forever, then, blissfully, the music stops. There is a slight bustle as everyone switches partners, looking at who’s next on your dance card. Lord Gortash takes your hand, and with a predatory grin realises you have no one else on your dance card. As he takes your pencil, eager to write his name again, a hand grips his wrist and stops him.

You look up and see a beautiful man, dark skinned, hair braided closely to his head and a slight stubble covering his cheeks. He has a deep brown, almost black eye, while the other seemed pale and translucent. His smile is charming and bright, without a hint of sleaziness the other man seemed to carry in bucket loads. “I’m terribly sorry to cut in,” he says, the dulcet tones of his voice sending a slight shiver down your spine, “but I believe it’s my turn to have the pleasure of their company.”

Lord Gortash scoffs, brandishing your dance card towards the handsome man. “Your name isn’t on there. Mine is. Get lost, Ravengard.”

The man—Ravengard—nods, taking a step back. He seems as if he’s about to leave, and your heart sinks at the prospect of another dance with this man when he leans back in, pointing near the back. “Oh, before I go, I fear I spy Lady Karlach on her way. She mentioned something about—what was it now?—getting even?”

You see Gortash’s face turn white as he whips his head around, trying to spot someone. Without sparing you a second glance, he practically runs out of the ballroom, tripping on his own feet as he’s nearly sent sprawling. You hide your laugh behind your hand, catching the eye of Ravengard. “Thank you,” you say, adjusting your clothes, “he just wouldn’t stop talking.”

“You seemed like you were in need of saving,” he says, taking your hand and planting a feather-light kiss on the back of it. “Lord Wyll Ravengard, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You give your name back which he tests immediately, smiling at the way it sounds. He gestures to your dance card, his hand still holding yours. “May I?”

You nod, delighted that this night seemed to be turning around. He writes his name in neat, precise cursive, finishing just as the band begins to play the notes of the next song. His hand is warm as it envelops yours, large, course fingers wrapping around your glove, leading you to the middle of the dance floor.

A slow dance begins to play, and suddenly you are swept up in his movements. He dances easily, leading you as if it was second nature. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” you say, matching his movements easily.

He smiles bashfully, looking down for a second. “Ah, I’ve been away.”

“And how do you like being back?”

He twirls you, catching you easily when you return back into his arms. “I like it a lot better now.”

As you waltz with him, you catch Astarion’s eye once more. He mouths, ‘Good?’

You nod and smile, glad when he gives you a thumbs up of approval. ‘He’s sexy,’ Astarion tells you, and you accidentally snort, looking away when Lord Ravengard raises an amused brow at you. “Too clichéd?”

“No, not at all!” You scramble, trying to school your face into a neutral expression. Every time you looked at his face, however, you started giggling again. Lord Ravengard laughed along with you, still not missing a step and barely even wincing when you inevitably stepped on his toes. “My friend is being stupid, that’s all.”

“Well,” Lord Ravengard starts, stepping closer than what was deemed proper, “if it’s not my horribly cheesy sayings, may I say that you look more stunning than the goddess Aphrodite herself?”

You gasp in jest, smiling. “Careful, my lord, your hubris may see you cursed.”

The song ends, yet he remains still, holding you. “A small price to pay to adequately compliment your beauty.”

Your heart stutters as he steps back, bowing as you hesitantly remember to do the same. “May I see you again?” You ask, hoping your forward nature doesn’t put him off like so many other men.

He smiles broadly, genuine. “I would love that.” 

[coralseacourt]

Broken Love 🪸by @coralseacourt

Summery: The youngest Acheron Sister gets rejected for Elain

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Azriel X O/C

He broke me.

Left me in Pieces

He took my heart away.

Held it in his hands , before squeezing it slowly.

Until nothing of it was left to be repaired.

2 months prior.

I was fae. My skin flawless with only a hint of color to my cheeks. My long ash blonde hair had turned more gold and shiny than they ever had been.

I was sitting in front of the mirror staring at myself, bright green eyes looking back at me.

So much had happened since Hybern, my life had changed completely.

No more poverty , warm nights instead of the cold rifts that had swept through our House.

A clear view of a starlit city and not the so familiar colorless woods.

I couldn’t identify myself with the person staring back at me and i had no one to share it with.

Feyre was now High lady and a mother with a lot of responsibilities.

But this meant also that she had less time to be present in my life, which I didn’t fault her for.

It also wasn’t her fault that I somehow always seemed to be invisible to everyone. Nesta and Elain had never been interested enough in me to care.

They had each other.

After all of the Events in the last months i had started to feel lonely. I had thought that with the birth of nyx I could be more involved, maybe helping feyre out with the baby.

But I only had seen him once which was weeks ago. They had invited me to Dinner I had been so excited to get out and see my nephew but the evening had ended with everyone interacting with each other and me sitting alone in a corner of the room .

That was the moment I decided I would not go again.

And it seemed I had gotten what I wanted. I wasn’t invited to another Dinner.

I couldn’t understand what I did wrong.

At the beginning I had thought Azriel would be a friend. He had offered me his favorite books to read .

We had talked. Sometimes all night long.

But then it stopped and I had noticed the looks he had given Elain.

Of course he looked at her, not me. She was beautiful. Even more since she was Fae

As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself I had loved his attention , had loved that he had cared.

Something I never had experienced from anyone else besides Feyre.

I pulled my knees to my chest and laid my chin on them. Maybe I was a ghost , haunting everyone around me with my company.

I shook slightly my head and stood slowly up to leave for Dinner in the big Hall. No one ever joined me .

Cassian had at the beginning, before him and nesta were mated.

Now I was a third wheel and I had changed my dinner time early enough so he still would be at training while I was eating.

I entered the big hall and sat on the long empty table .

My food arrived immediately after.

Potatos ,red cabbage and a meat loaf.

It looked delicious, but it tasted like paper in my mouth.

I leaned my head on my hand while poking around in my meat.

”Is Everything alright, violet?”

I looked up , surprised to see Rhys leaning against one of the pillars that connected the flooring with the Sealing.

His entire Form screamed suspicion and my alarm bells started to ring. “Yes of course, why wouldn’t it be ?”

I tried not to look away from his narrowed eyes so cold and calculating.

”It’s been a while since you joined us for Dinner and I had to wonder why that is.” I shrugged nervously my shoulders, not sure what to say . But decided to tell the truth.

“ I wasn’t invited,” He raised his eyebrow and I continued.

“And even if I would have been invited , I probably wouldn’t have come.”

Surprise lit his face.

Possibly because he didn’t expected me to answer honestly?

I m sure he had read something in my Head.

I hadn’t practiced to build up walls around my mind, hadn’t seen the need for it.

I had no powers.

I was practically invisible to everyone especially Rhysand , who would have only cared if I had any magic.

Which i hadn’t.

“Why wouldn’t you have come? Are you not happy for your sisters? Are we not providing you with everything you need?”

I gulped at his words, sometimes I had the feeling Rhys was waiting for something.

Like a hawk with his prey.

“ Yes , thank you I do appreciate it. And I m very happy for them. “ Whatever Rhys saw in my mind seemed to satisfy him. His arms relaxed and his facial expression calmed down but was replaced with confusion.

“I don’t understand .” It seemed to bother him.

“ It’s just .” I stopped myself not sure how to explain.

So I showed him. The loneliness, the feeling of invisibility.

It took less effort than having to explain.

“Do you want to be seen?”

Was all he said , his hands tugged away in his pants pockets before turning around and just leaving.

Did I?

All night I had to think about his words. Did I want to be seen?

Did I do this to myself?

This isolation?

I planned to change everything starting tomorrow morning.

🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸

The next morning I was up early.

I put some comfortable pants on and a shirt that I could properly move in.

When I walked into the dining hall for breakfast, I had 3 pairs of eyes on me. Azriel, Nesta and Cassian were sitting together at the table.

I took my seat next to Azriel and started shuffling my food down, still feeling their stares.

“What are you doing up so early?”

Looking over to the big Illyrian that my sister was mated to I answered.

“ I was thinking that maybe I could participate in training today, if that’s ok. “

“No.”

My sister seemed to almost smoke from anger .

I couldn’t hide my surprise.

“No? Why? Everyone is allowed to.

The priestesses,you even Elain started recently.”

I was frustrated now .

I had to do something, I didn’t want to sit around and be miserable.

“That’s different, we earned it. You didn’t.”

Both males stared at nesta like she had grown a third eye.

“ Nesta I m sure we could start her on some easy warm ups.” A soft spoken voice next to me stated. Az.

“I m not helping her . If she is doing anything, she will have to do it with one of you.”

And with that she stood up and left.

“I go talk to her violet, she doesn’t mean it.” “She does, and you know it.”

He only gave me an apologetic look before leaving.

“If you like then i could train you.”

I looked at the Shadowsinger beside me and gave him a small smile .

“Alright. Thank you I really appreciate it.”

🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸

We started training immediately.

Spending daily time with each other .

It felt like it had at the beginning.

I knew he only did it because he felt bad for me but I couldn’t help falling for him .

His soft way of talking with me .

All the ways he tried to make me stronger with each training session.

It was what I had always wanted ,being useful.

Having someone that is willing to listen and understand me.

Everything was how it should be until the faithful day where everything changed.

🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸

“Arms up , like this.” Azriel pulled my arms higher making my position slightly straighter.

“Yes and don’t lose tension . Keep it exactly this way and don’t lower your eyes .”

I nodded.

Sweat running down my face, my breathing heavy and my muscles hurting.

“Violet , I said don’t look down.” He was standing in front of me his hair tousled and his eyes glowing with anger.

“ If you don’t listen to what I say, then this is useless. “ He pulled on my arm twisting it and throwing me on the floor with him on top of me his dagger pressed to my throat.

“ See. This is what happens if you lose tension in your arms, anyone could use your weakness against you.”

He was looking down on me.

Eyes so intense that I couldn’t look away. Could only feel his weight on me .

My stomach tightened. My heart raced. “Do better, learn faster, pay atten…”

His voice stopped mid sentence.

Nostrils flared, pupils blackened.

Oh god could he smell my arousal?

My cheeks flamed and Embarrassment grew inside of me.

“I …I “.

I didn’t know what to say he still had the knife pressed against my Throat.

Which he now threw to the side of the ring .

“Are you attracted to me?”

His voice was Shocked, completely stunned.

I bit my lip and tried not to crumble under his gaze.

What a fool I must be.

He was here. Spending his time helping me train and I wasn’t even able to keep my feelings to myself.

His eyes darted to my lip movements and he nervously wetted his own.

“Are you?”

“Yes .” It was senseless to deny it, he clearly could smell it.

My head turned to the side, looking at the training equipment.

Everything was better to look at then seeing his face in that moment .

“ You shouldn’t.”

His hand softly pressed against my cheek turning me back towards him.

But instead of taking it directly away again, he dragged his thumb slowly over my cheek towards my lips.

Touching them. Opening them slightly.

I gasped quietly.

His smell was intoxicating.

It filled my lungs with the heavenly scent of Cedar and Night Rain .

In one sudden move he turned us and i now was on top of him straddling his Hip.

I shivered, when I could feel something hard touching my core.

His hand dragged me down to him.

Our mouths so close I could feel his warm breath on my skin.

“You really shouldn’t .”

His eyes glowed darkly before he pressed his lips against mine .

I couldn’t believe it.

Was this really happening?

I kissed him back and completely surrendered myself to him.

His tongue licked slowly over my lips telling me to open . Which I happily did.

I could feel his hands roaming over me.

Touching, grabbing .

The heat between my thighs getting unbearable.

His mouth started to wander in a wild and impatient way, going down my Throat.

Biting, teasing.

I couldn’t hold the sounds back that emerged from me.

“Azriel “.

I groaned his Name when he started to move my Hips against his in a rhythmic way .

I had never felt something like this.

My heart was pounding and something was building up.

I bit my lip while still feeling his kisses on me .

But in one Moment I was in heaven and the next he threw me off.

I landed on my back a couple feet’s away from him.

Looking up the sealing and trying to catch my breath , I blinked confused.

“I need to go . Elain is waiting for me.” And with that he stood up and practically ran from the training room.

Part 2,