#at least i still got the curls to admire

[rafesweetie]

sometimes prissy!reader has a bit of an attitude … it’s safe to say season 1 rafe doesn’t tolerate it.

your wispy eyelashes almost touch your eyebrows as you roll your eyes at your boyfriend, who was telling you that there was still another two whole hours of the golf game left.

it wasn’t your fault, the weather was beating down on you and making your soft skin sweat, your thighs were so hot that they were sticking to the seat in the golf cart, and you ran out of water and beer an hour ago, and the cart girl was no where to be seen. you were promised a comfortable and relaxing day, and instead you’re hot and bored.

rafe’s lip curls up in annoyance at your eyeroll, and he scoffs and walks away, leaving you pouting in the cart. he’s trying to enjoy the day, there’s no way that he’s letting his prissy girlfriend spoil the fun by needing his constant attention.

fanning at yourself when the sun blares down on you, you’re truly putting on a show for rafe, exaggerating so he can take you home. even with his baseball cap that he stuck on your head at your third complaint, and the last sip of his beer that he gave you half an hour ago, you’re still not satisfied. he’s starting to think you’re never satisfied.

“rafe, do you have any sunscreen? i think i’m getting burnt,” you call out after he swings the golf club.

“you think i pack fuckin’ sunscreen? not my fault you’re wearing a tube top, little shoulders bound to get burnt,” he steps back to let topper take his shot. “top, you got any for my girl?”

“nah, man, never pack that shit,” topper answers. rafe can hear you groan from your seat, and usually you’re at least saying ‘thank you’ for checking, but you’re so bored that you’re beyond sweetness.

“do you guys have, like, anything? this is so boring,” you complain from the cart.

topper asks, “did you bring your phone?” and you tell him it died.

rafe’s frankly done with your subtle tantrum, stomping over to you, swinging the club in circles as he walks. if your brain wasn’t so foggy from the heat then you’d admire how his arms look in that polo top, but you can barely even think.

“how about you keep score? hm, kid, how does that sound?” he offers, handing you the scorecard.

“that’s boring, i don’t even know how golf works, don’t know how to do this,” you complain. “rafe, i just wanna walk home, i’m done with this, so boring,”

“all i’m asking is for you to keep score.”

“i don’t have a pen.”

“use your lipliner,”

your lip curls in distaste, a habit picked up from your boyfriend. “that’s stupid, its like, $40,”

“hey,” he scolds. “don’t know where this little attitude came from but it stops now, okay? shit, babe, just trying to enjoy the game. you wanna, uh, you wanna walk home? that what this is? is that what you’ve come to?”

“are you dumb? i’m in heels—“ he cuts you off instantly, not liking your insinuation one bit.

“hey! hey—“ you expect him to grab your jaw or wrist but he grabs your nipple through your shirt, tugging at it so you’re dragged closer to him.

“don’t speak to me like that, a’ight? not fair to me. tried to bring you out here for a fun day, don’t need the fucking insults. say something nice to me or don’t say shit at all. or i can bring you home right now and give you some shit, and i promise you you won’t like it. sit in the cart, keep score, be nice. can you do that?” he continues. you nod, and he pinches your nipple harshly, making you squeak, then lets go.

you watch rafe’s vieny hand adjust your top after that, then watch as it moves up to your cheek. he pats it, gives you a nod with some pretty harsh eye contact, then leaves.

he always knows how to shut you up.

[chxnsgirl]

방찬 x 한 x you ─── needy

♡  ― 󠀬󠀬[ minors do not interact! ] dom!bangchan x sub!han x sub afab!reader . hard dom!chan, brief sub x sub , praise kink , degradation kink , degrading praise , dirty talk , name calling , teasing , oral (m. & f. rec) , face fucking , hair pulling , overstimulation , cunt slapping , use of sex toy , aftercare at the end ♡ ♡ synopsis ― bored and horny, you decide to play with jisung while you wait for chan. however, it doesn't go as planned. [ 5.6k words ] ♡ ― this took me so long because i got caught up with work n had motivation problems.. im so sorry if this is bad jfdklsjgkflf semi proofread. ♡ masterlist

smut below the cut - minors gtfo.

you lay sprawled on your bed, fresh from a warm shower. the soft scent of lilies clung to your skin, and your pretty nightgown flowed loosely around you, paired with fuzzy socks that added to your cozy look. it was a quiet, almost too quiet, night. jisung was in his room across the hall, unusually silent, and chan was still at the studio, leaving the house with an air of emptiness that made you feel a bit lonely.

as if sensing your mood, han peeked into your room. his soft footsteps barely made a sound, but when his gaze landed on you, lying on your stomach with your phone in hand, his expression melted. you looked up at him, your face lighting up with a warmth that made his heart flutter.

“hi, sungie!” you chirped, sitting up on your knees and smiling brightly.

“hi,” he replied softly, stepping inside and taking a seat on the edge of your bed. his hands fidgeted slightly as he glanced at you. “what are you doing?”

“just scrolling,” you said, holding up your phone. without hesitation, you shifted closer, curling up beside him as you opened the app you’d been browsing. “look at these shoes! aren’t they cute?” your eyes sparkled as you showed him a pair of pastel pink platform mary janes, your excitement contagious.

han’s lips curved into a small, fond smile. “you’d look adorable in them,” he murmured, his hand drifting to rest gently on your thigh. his fingers brushed the hem of your nightgown as he spoke, the tender gesture warming you further. “i’ll tell chan to get them for you when he finally gets home—if he ever does.”

you huffed, a playful pout forming on your lips as you set your phone on the nightstand. “he’s been working late too much lately,” you grumbled, leaning back into the pillows dramatically.

han laid down beside you, propping his head on his hand as he watched you. “at least he warned us this time instead of waking us up at 3 a.m. banging around the kitchen,” he teased, his tone lighthearted.

you giggled at the memory, your pout giving way to a smile. “true. that was the worst. i almost threw a pillow at him.”

han chuckled, his face softening as he rested his cheek against the pillow. his fingers absentmindedly spun the silver ring on his finger while his eyes lingered on your face, admiring your playful demeanor. 

“still, he’s so mean for making me wait!” you whined, your fingers absentmindedly toying with the hem of han’s shirt. the soft fabric twisted between your fingertips as your pout deepened. “especially when i’m so…” you trailed off, your cheeks warming as the words caught in your throat.

han tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his gaze as he waited for you to continue. a sly idea sparked in your mind, and you bit your lip before finishing your thought with a quiet, mischievous tone. “…horny.”

han’s face flushed instantly, his eyes widening as if your words had jolted life into him. he blinked, struggling to process, his gaze flickering over you before landing back on your face. “you’re… but channie isn’t…” he began to stammer, his voice soft and unsure.

you placed a finger to his lips to shush him, your grin widening with playful mischief. “what if,” you suggested, crawling closer to him, “we played a little? just while we wait for channie to come home.” you knelt beside him on the bed, your eyes glinting with anticipation as you watched him wrestle with your proposal.

han’s face was a shade of pink that rivaled the shoes you’d shown him earlier. his gaze traveled down your form, hesitant and thoughtful, before he looked back up to meet your eyes. “but what if he gets mad?” he whispered, as if chan could somehow overhear your scheming.

your grin turned into a smirk, a spark of daring lighting up your features. “that’s what makes it more fun, hannie!” you teased, your voice bubbling with excitement.

han’s lips parted as if to protest, but he quickly closed them, his blush deepening as he fidgeted with the hem of his own shirt. “um… okay,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “but i’m not really feeling, uh, dominant right now…”

you nodded, leaning down so your face was close to his, your voice soft and coaxing. “me neither. but we can make it work, right?” you tilted your head, your expression hopeful as you sought his approval.

han swallowed hard, his fidgeting slowing as he considered your words. finally, he nodded, a shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “mhm. yeah, w-we can.”

without another word, you leaned down, running your soft hands along his chest, and giving him tender kisses on his lips. he let out a soft moan in response, leaning into you immediately. 

you felt a spark of exhilaration coursing through you, a mixture of excitement and mischief that left your heart racing. the thought alone—breaking from your usual routine, giving in to this shared craving without waiting for chan—was equal parts thrilling and nerve-wracking.

usually, the three of you would play together. it was a dynamic you were used to, one that felt safe and familiar. you and han would put on a playful show for chan when he got home, teasing and coaxing him into joining. but now, this was different. you weren’t waiting.

the idea was so naughty, so completely against the unspoken rules you’d all naturally fallen into. it sent a shiver through you, equal parts apprehension and desire. the risk made it even hotter—knowing that chan might come home at any moment, that he might catch you in the act, might see how you and han had caved to your shared need before he could take control of the situation.

han seemed to be feeling the same rush, his nervous fidgeting giving way to a subtle shift in his expression. he wasn’t bold by nature, but there was something in his eyes now—a flicker of curiosity, of shared rebellion—that matched the spark in your own.

this wasn’t your first time playing with jisung, not by a long shot. the two of you had shared plenty of intimate moments before, exploring each other’s desires under chan’s guidance or as part of your playful trio. you were no strangers to each other’s touches, no strangers to the way your chemistry crackled when the mood struck.

but this? this was different. you’d never done this together when both of you were feeling like this—soft, shy, hesitant, both naturally leaning toward the same submissive energy. there was no one to take the lead, no steady hand or commanding voice to guide you.

in a frenzy of passion, you and jisung were already intertwined and touching each other. your movements were needy and hurried, driven by an insatiable desire for each other. you clung to him, wrapping your body around his as you straddled him. whimpers escaped your lips as you ground against him through his sweatpants.

jisung was already achingly hard, unable to resist the urge to touch and be touched by you. "y/n," he whispered desperately, his fingertips digging into your thighs as he guided your movements. "sungie," you moaned in response, leaning forward and clinging onto the pillows in an attempt to steady yourself.

his hands roamed upwards, pushing up your nightgown to reveal your light pink panties that were now rubbing against his hardened member with fervent urgency.

his voice was laced with sweetness as he asked, "can i see you, y/n?" you nodded eagerly, a giddy excitement bubbling in your chest. his hands clenched the bottom of your nightgown, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion.

now clad only in fuzzy socks and panties, you resumed grinding against him, feeling his warmth through the fabric of his clothes. with each movement, he grew more flushed and his hands became bolder and more eager, exploring every inch of your skin with an intoxicating fervor. his fingertips dug into your breasts, pinching and teasing your nipples, while his palms kneaded and caressed your flesh.

lost in your heated touches and kisses, both you and jisung missed the text from chan, announcing that he’d be leaving a couple hours early. “lemme taste you,” han said shyly, slight pleading laced in his voice. he tugged a little on your panties and you whined at his words. “mmh, okay, hannie.” you giggled, rolling off him for a moment and pushing your panties off. 

he laid back against the bed, head by the foot-end, waiting eagerly for you to sit on his face. you crawled up, your soft, velvety thighs on either side of his head as you hesitantly hovered above his waiting mouth.

 he wrapped his arms around your thighs and impatiently yanked you down, immediately latching his mouth to your sopping cunt. his mouth worked urgently, his tongue swiped over your wet folds quickly, drinking you in. 

you let out a shocked moan, watching him bury his face in your mound. he flicked his tongue on your clit, the lewd noises making you both blush. “oh-oh, hannie, right there!” you cried, reaching down and gripping his hair in an attempt to hold his head still. 

lost in pleasure, you began to desperately ride his face, grinding your clit onto his tongue, your hips rolling quickly. you didn’t even notice that one of han’s hands left your thigh to pull his leaking cock out and stroke it. he whimpered against your cunt, his hand pumping furiously around his length as he ate you up like he was starving. 

“sungie, i’m s-so close,” you panted, tugging on his hair with both strands as you chased your orgasm. he let out a choked moan in response, too consumed by you to respond coherently. he cried against your flesh, only adding vibrations and heightening your pleasure. 

with a cry, you came, falling forward and gripping onto the footboard until your knuckles turned white, your overstimulated cunt still grinding up against han’s swollen lips. he made out with your sex, too pussydrunk to pull away on his own. you let out a weak whine, finally looking up from the floor to see chan standing in the doorway.

your breath hitched, and you pulled yourself off han’s mouth, making him whine from the loss of you. “y/n,” he pouted, before following your gaze. he blushed and tried to cover himself up. 

chan stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed on the scene before him. his expression was unreadable, a mixture of disappointment, frustration, and something darker simmering beneath the surface. the intensity of his presence was enough to make you freeze, your hands faltering on the footboard as the weight of the situation settled over you.

“what,” chan’s voice was calm, low, and dangerously controlled, “do you two think you’re doing?”

jisung shifted uncomfortably, still flushed and disheveled. you squeaked, grabbing the nearest blanket to cover yourself as you avoided chan’s piercing gaze.

“channie, i—” you began, your voice trembling, but he held up a hand to silence you.

“i don’t remember giving either of you permission to start without me,” he said, his tone sharp but measured. he stepped into the room, his movements deliberate, his presence filling the space. “is that how we do things now? you just… indulge yourselves while i’m gone?”

jisung whimpered, sitting up on the bed with his head bowed, propped up on his elbow. “we didn’t mean to—”

“didn’t mean to?” chan cut him off, his voice rising slightly, though still calm. “because it looks to me like you knew exactly what you were doing. both of you.”

he turned his gaze to you, and the weight of his stare made you squirm. “look at me,” he commanded, his voice firm. slowly, you lifted your eyes to meet his, your cheeks burning with shame.

“do you know how disappointed i am?” he continued, his tone softer now but no less commanding. “i expect better from both of you. you know the rules, don’t you?”

“yes, channie,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

“then why did you break them?” his question hung in the air, and the silence that followed felt oppressive.

“we were just…” jisung tried to explain, but the words faltered on his tongue.

chan let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he took a few more steps into the room, his commanding presence never wavering. “you’re both going to make this up to me,” he said finally, his tone leaving no room for argument. “but first, you’re going to tell me exactly why you thought this was a good idea.”

his eyes flicked between you and jisung, his gaze expectant. neither of you dared to speak at first, the tension thick in the room.

“well?” he prompted, crossing his arms again. “i’m waiting.”

“i was just so.. worked up, and.. you weren’t gonna be home for a few hours..” you trailed off, a blush of embarrassment painting your cheeks. 

chan was well aware that you were the instigator. han would never have dared to break the rules on his own; he was easily swayed into mischief, especially if it meant indulging in moments with you. chan knew exactly who the true brat between the two of you was.

his eyes roamed over you and jisung, and a playful twinkle sparked in his eye, as if he noticed something. 

he walked over to you both, tsking. “you two made quiet the mess, didn’t you?” he said lowly, eyes flicking from you to han, who was tugging his shirt down over his tummy for the life of him. “what? no..” you objected, straightening up. chan reached you both, pulling han’s shirt up to reveal his cum-covered stomach. 

“are you sure?” he asked, a brow raised. you bit your tongue, your heart thumping. han must of came while you were sitting on his face. you looked from the mess on his stomach to look at han. han blushed, avoiding eye contact with both of you. 

“clean him up,” chan said firmly, his eyes not leaving yours. “wh-what?” you stuttered, clutching the blanket to your chest. “you heard me,” he took the blanket from around your body, tossing it on the other side of the bed, before petting the back of your head. “clean him up.” 

you swallowed hard, crawling back towards jisung on trembling hands and knees. both of your faces were flushed a deep shade of red, feeling exposed and caught in this intimate moment. but you trusted chan, knowing he would never make you do something you didn't want to do. and you all had established a safeword to use if things ever got too intense.

seeing chan worked up and angry only added to the heat pooling between your thighs. jisung bit his lip, watching as you leaned forward and stuck your tongue out, licking up the droplets of his release that had landed on his stomach. you took your time, savoring the taste and the sensation of your tongue against his skin.

as you bent down to clean up the mess, a hand glided over your inner thigh, causing you to shiver with anticipation. chan was teasingly prodding at your swollen pussy, gauging just how aroused you were. his touch sent sparks of pleasure through your body.

suddenly, you felt a sharp sting on your sex, causing you to yelp and jolt. "such a dirty girl, playing without me.." chan almost growled, rubbing your clit with agonizing slowness. you couldn't help but whimper quietly, peeking back at him with pleading eyes. he met your gaze, his own dark with lust and something else that made your heart race even faster. "quiet," he ordered firmly before giving your cunt another stinging slap.

you bit back a moan, squeezing your eyes shut. han squirmed, the scene in front of him daring to make him hard once again. “play with han while i play with your little cunt,” he instructed, dipping behind you on the bed. you looked up at han, who was still a shy, fidgety mess. 

as you leaned forward, your heart raced at the intensity of the situation. you were hyper aware of every sound in the room—the rustle of fabric, the low hum of chan’s steady breathing behind you, and the soft, stifled noises jisung made as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock.

jisung shuddered beneath you, his fingers gripping the sheets tightly as he tried to keep still. his lips parted as a quiet whimper escaped, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at the reaction you drew from him.

behind you, chan’s hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you closer to him as his other hand explored the wetness between your thighs. his touch was calculated, purposeful, and every slow stroke sent sparks shooting through your body.

“look at you,” chan murmured, his voice dripping with dominance. “so eager to please now that you’ve been caught. where was all this obedience earlier?”

you moaned softly against jisung, the vibrations making him squirm under your touch. chan’s hand gripped your hair, tugging your head up slightly to make you pause. “i asked you a question,” he said, his tone sharper now.

“s-sorry, channie,” you stammered, your voice breathless.

“sorry isn’t going to cut it,” he said, letting go of your hair and giving your ass a sharp slap that made you yelp. “you’re going to show me you’re sorry.”

he spread you open further, his fingers sliding into you effortlessly as he worked you with precision. you gasped, struggling to focus on jisung, whose flushed face and trembling hands showed he was on the verge of losing himself.

“eyes on him,” chan ordered, his fingers curling inside you just right. “he’s your responsibility now. make him feel good while i remind you who you belong to.”

you nodded quickly, returning your attention to jisung as your hand wrapped around his base, your lips sliding down his length with practiced ease. he whined, his cock becoming fully hard now due to your ministrations. he bucked his hips slightly, unable to control his reactions, his shy demeanor melting away as pleasure overtook him.

chan’s rhythm behind you was relentless, his free hand gripping your waist tightly to hold you in place. he leaned forward, his breath warm against your skin. “that’s it,” he purred, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “such a good little whore, aren’t you?”

your body was alight with sensation, torn between the overwhelming pleasure chan was giving you and the thrill of hearing jisung’s soft, broken cries as he teetered on the edge. 

the room was suffused with heat, every motion and sound building the intensity between the three of you. jisung's broken whimpers filled the air as he trembled beneath you, his body straining against the pleasure you were giving him.

behind you, you heard the clinking of metal and the shuffle of fabric, you could only assume he was freeing himself from his pants. chan’s grip on your hips tightened, and you could feel the heat of his body pressing closer to yours.  

you gasped softly, feeling his cock brush against your slick lips, and he ground himself against them, lubricating himself.  before you could respond, chan leaned over you, his breath warm against your back as his fingers dug into your waist. “keep your focus on hannie, baby.” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.  

you nodded obediently, your lips wrapping around jisung’s cock again, savoring the way he moaned your name in soft, desperate breaths. his hips bucked slightly, and you held him steady, your hand stroking him in tandem with your mouth.  

chan shifted behind you as he guided himself to your entrance. the blunt, thick head of his cock pressed against your soaked folds, and you tensed in anticipation, your body already aching to feel him fill you.  

“relax,” chan whispered, his hand stroking your back in a fleeting moment of gentleness. then, with one smooth thrust, he entered you, filling you completely. a sharp cry escaped your lips, muffled around jisung as the sudden fullness sent a wave of pleasure crashing through you.  

chan groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping your hips as he stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to the stretch. “you’re squeezing me, baby,” he rasped, his voice rough with need. “mm.. f-fuck.”  

you whimpered against jisung, your body trembling as chan began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one drawing a broken moan from your lips. jisung was a writhing mess beneath you, his hands clutching at the sheets as his own pleasure built.  

“don’t stop,” chan growled, his pace quickening, his voice sending a thrill through you. “make him come for me. show him how good you are.”  

driven by his command, you redoubled your efforts on jisung, your lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to bring him closer to the edge. the sounds of his moans and chan’s deep, guttural groans blended into a symphony of raw, unrestrained desire.  

every thrust from chan sent you spiraling further into bliss, your body caught between the overwhelming pleasure of being filled by him and the intoxicating power of watching jisung fall apart under your touch.  

“such a perfect little thing,” chan murmured, his voice strained as his movements grew rougher. jisung sat up, little whimpers leaving his lips as he neared release. he propped himself up on his elbow with one arm, the other hand leaving the sheets to grip your hair. “a-ah, g-gonna cum,” he whined, his brows knitting together.

chan leaned forward, pushing your head slightly. “take all of him, or i pull out right now,” he ordered, his voice low and intimidating. you whimpered in response, but you obeyed, leaning down and deepthroating jisung. 

his eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell back against the bed once again, both hands gripping your hair as he thrusted up into your throat. “c-coming!” he cried, holding your head down, your nose touching his base as he erupted in your throat. chan’s pace was unrelenting, he kept ramming into you as you throated han. 

you gagged and coughed, your eyes watering as you looked up at jisung. chan growled, slapping your ass harshly, making the sound almost echo in the room. he dug his nails into your stinging skin, making you yelp around jisung’s overstimulated cock. “swallow it all..” chan demanded, his voice hoarse. 

you obeyed and swallowed all you could, then licked any remainders off han’s length. han panted, nearly boneless underneath you and chan, his eyes glazed over. 

chan pulled out momentarily, his hands still on your hips. “sung, come here.” he said firmly as han tucked himself back into his sweatpants shyly. chan whispered in han’s ear for a few seconds, before turning his attention back to you as han left the room. he helped flip you onto your back, using his hands to part your pretty thighs. 

“there’s my dirty little girl,” he ran his hands up your sides, before groping and kneading your tits. “sungie’s getting you a surprise,” he grinned, squeezing your mounds roughly. your heart raced in anticipation, and as if on cue, han returned, a wand vibrator in hand.

you whined, knowing what was coming. “no, channie, please, i-” 

chan interrupted you with a sharp slap to your cunt, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. “you don’t get a say.” he growled, gripping your thighs and tugging you closer to him. “you lost that when you decided to be a bad girl and play without me.” you whimpered, biting your lip as he caught his dick with his thumb and pushed it back inside you. 

jisung looked down at you with a sympathetic look as he sat next to you on the bed. he felt bad that you were getting the punishment, even though technically you did start it. chan’s strokes were slow, deliberate, and teasing. his strong, veiny hands pushed your thighs down against your torso, practically folding you in half. 

“do it, han.” chan said, making sure to give han access to between your legs. han turned on the massager, putting it on the highest setting. he dragged it against your pubic bone before pressing it to your clit right away. you cried out, whimpering. your cunt fluttered around chan, earning a quiet groan of satisfaction from him. 

chan leaned back, giving han room to press it firmer against your skin. you clawed at the bedding under you, your thighs shaking violently. “n-no, too much!” you gasped, looking up at chan with pleading eyes. he just smirked, speeding up his pace, short pants and breathless moans occasionally leaving his lips. “you say no,” he started, he fingertips digging into your inner thighs. “but your little cunt is saying the opposite, babygirl. gripping me so good, fuck,” 

han pressed the vibrator firmer on your clit, making you squirm and cry out. your legs couldn’t stop shaking, and you were sure you were starting to see stars. 

your body trembled as the relentless sensations built, overwhelming you completely. the combination of chan’s unyielding thrusts and the intense vibrations against your clit sent you hurtling over the edge. a choked scream tore from your lips as your orgasm crashed through you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping and clutching desperately at the sheets.

your walls clenched tightly around chan, drawing a low, guttural moan from him as he fought to maintain control. “that’s it, good girl,” he growled, his pace never faltering. “come for me—show me how much you can take.”

but even as your body spasmed and your release soaked his cock, neither of them stopped. the vibrator pressed insistently against your oversensitive clit, and chan’s movements only seemed to grow rougher, pushing you past the threshold of pleasure into the realm of overstimulation.

“p-please, channie,” you whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as your body writhed beneath them. “i can’t—it’s too much!”

chan’s eyes darkened with lust as he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “you can, and you will,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dominance. “i’ll decide when you’ve had enough.”

han, emboldened by chan’s control, kept the vibrator pressed firmly to your swollen clit, his own breath hitching as he watched your every reaction. “she looks so pretty like this,” he mumbled, his cheeks flushed with heat.

chan smirked, his hand trailing up your trembling thigh to grip your waist. “she loves it,” he said, his tone firm and confident. “don’t you, baby? you love being pushed past your limits.”

a strangled moan escaped your lips as another wave of pleasure threatened to crest, your overstimulated body betraying you. your hips bucked uncontrollably, chasing the sensations even as they overwhelmed you.

“look at her,” chan continued, his voice laced with pride as he pistoned in and out of you. “she’s taking it so well—my perfect little slut.”

the praise sent shivers down your spine, and before you could protest again, the coil in your tummy snapped once more, a second orgasm crashing into you with devastating force. your cries filled the room as your body convulsed, tears streaming down your cheeks.

still, chan didn’t stop, his cock driving into you with relentless precision, and the vibrator continued to torment your overstimulated clit. the intensity was unbearable, your mind teetering on the edge of blissful oblivion.

“that’s it, sweetheart,” chan murmured, his tone softening just enough to make you feel both cared for and completely under his control. “you can take it. i know you can.”

your body was trembling uncontrollably, every nerve alight with sensation as chan and han worked you mercilessly. the overwhelming combination of chan's deep, unrelenting thrusts and the vibrator against your throbbing clit had you sobbing with pleasure. you had lost track of how many times you’d come, your body wrung out and still teetering on the edge of another release.

“p-please,” you sobbed, your voice cracking with desperation. “it’s too much… i can’t—”

“can’t?” chan repeated mockingly, his smirk dark and unyielding. he leaned down, capturing your tear-streaked face with his intense gaze. “you’ve been saying that for a while now, sweetheart, but look at you.” he punctuated his words with a sharp thrust that made your back arch and another broken cry spill from your lips. “you’re still taking it so well. you were made for this.”

“come on, baby,” chan said, his voice low and laced with hunger. his thrusts grew rougher, each one pushing you closer to the breaking point.

your body arched off the bed as the pressure in your core became unbearable. your moans turned into cries, your legs trembling uncontrollably as another orgasm ripped through you. but even as you came, chan didn’t stop. the overstimulation sent shockwaves through your entire body, making you sob as the vibrator continued to torment your oversensitive clit.

“channie, i—” you tried to form words, but they dissolved into a choked scream as the pressure in your core shifted. the sensation was overwhelming, a heat spreading through you as your body teetered on the brink of something even more intense.

“let go,” chan growled, his pace unrelenting. “come on, sweetheart, one more big one. that’s it.”

han’s expression was full of anticipation as he watched you, his hand caressing the inside of your thigh. 

before he could say something, the dam broke. a gush of liquid escaped you, soaking chan’s thighs and the sheets beneath you as your body convulsed in release. a strangled moan tore from your lips as you completely unraveled, your mind blank and your body overwhelmed by the force of your climax.

“fuck, that’s it,” chan groaned, his hips stuttering as he watched you squirt, his grip on your thighs firm but steadying. “that’s my good girl.”

“are you okay, jagi?” han asked, his voice filled with awe and concern. he reached out hesitantly, running his fingers gently along your trembling thighs. as chan slowed down, giving you time to recuperate. 

you gave him a slow, tiny nod as you lay there, utterly spent, your chest heaving as your body twitched from the aftershocks. chan resumed, gradually speeding back up and giving you the option to tap out if need be. 

chan's thrusts resumed at a steady rhythm, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched your every reaction. his grip on your thighs was firm but gentle, ensuring you stayed grounded even as the intensity built once more. your body trembled under him, every nerve still raw and sensitive, but the way he looked at you—equal parts adoration and desire—kept you anchored.

“just a little more, sweetheart,” chan murmured, his voice low and soothing. “you can take it. almost done.”

han stayed close by, his hand still stroking your thigh in comforting circles, his expression soft with concern and admiration. “you’re doing so well, jagiya,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. 

the pace of chan’s hips quickened as his breathing became heavier. his hands slid up to hold your hips, pulling you closer with each thrust. you whimpered softly, your body instinctively responding despite the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

“i’m close,” chan groaned, his voice strained. he leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “just stay with me, baby. almost there.”

with a few more deep, powerful thrusts, chan buried himself fully inside you, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he reached his peak. his hips stilled as he released, warmth spreading through you as he held you close, his face buried in the crook of your neck. he littered soft kisses on your jawline and cheeks, then ending them on your lips. 

for a moment, the room was quiet except for the sound of your combined heavy breathing. chan stayed still, letting you both come down from the intensity. then he carefully pulled out, making sure not to cause you any discomfort. han immediately went to go get a warm, damp towel, then he returned, gently pressing it against your thighs and stomach to clean you up.

chan helped you change into something comfortable, and han changed the bedding for you since you ended up making a mess of them just moments prior. 

“you did so well,” chan murmured as you both lay back down, his tone full of pride and affection. he helped you shift into a more comfortable position, pulling the covers over your trembling body. “so proud of you, baby.”

han slid into the bed with you, his fingers brushing your hair back as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your temple. “you were amazing,” he said softly. “so beautiful.”

the two of them worked together seamlessly, their movements tender as they made sure you were warm and comfortable. chan lifted you gently into his arms, cradling you against his chest as han brought you a glass of water and held it to your lips.

“drink, baby,” han coaxed, his voice sweet and soothing. “you need to stay hydrated.”

you sipped the water gratefully, your body still trembling slightly as the aftereffects of everything began to fade. chan stroked your back in slow, calming motions, his lips brushing against your forehead as he whispered words of reassurance.

“you’re safe,” he murmured. “we’ve got you. always.”

the three of you settled into the bed together, chan holding you close while han cuddled up on your other side, his fingers intertwined with yours. the warmth of their bodies and the gentle rhythm of their breathing lulled you into a peaceful state, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you drifted off, feeling cherished and loved.

tags: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek @babigriin

©chxnsgirl do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.

[starkeyisthelastname]

Dilf/Husband!Rafe who could spend hours between your thighs 👅🍍 (thank you to my babe @rafesthroatbaby for being my muse for this!)

He may have been in his thirties, but he didn’t shy away when it came to eating pussy. When he did eat you out, he took his time and didn’t want any interruptions. He’d make sure the kids were gone, leaving the house empty so that you could moan as loud as you wanted while he made you feel good. He’d spend all day spoiling you, new Chanel still in its box, full set fresh, a beautiful dinner out on the water. He gave you the best because you deserved it. He certainly wasn’t easy to put up with and you were such a goddamn good mom, an amazing wife, and he loved to give you everything he possibly could.

He’d make sure you were comfortable, admiring your curves as you laid naked on the plush mattress. He’d settle between your thighs, spreading you open as he looked at the gorgeous view of your cunt right in front of him. “Such a beautiful fucking pussy.” He mumbled, his blue eyes then glancing up at you. It was a look that always sent a shiver down your spine and made your stomach flutter.

As soon as his tongue got his first taste of the night he was devouring you whole or at least that’s what it felt like. His striking cerulean eyes never left yours as he watched you come undone from his skillful mouth. Your expensive manicure would dig into his soft hair, holding him still as he sucked greedily on your aching clit. His deep groans vibrated against your soaked core, your sweet taste leaking onto his tongue non stop.

“R-rafe baby… shit…” You moaned loudly, curling your pretty toes against his muscled back. The way he ate pussy was a gift, and was all for you to have. His nose rubbed perfectly against your clit as he buried his tongue inside you, making you cry out beautifully.

Your lower stomach was on fire, your breath catching in your throat as you felt your orgasm starting to approach quickly. He let out a breathless laugh, tongue coming out to lick at your swollen pearl before sucking it into his mouth again. “Cum all over my fucking tongue baby. You know how I love that sweet shit.” He spoke low between taking sweet nips at your clit.

You threw your head back against the fluffy pillows, squeezing your thighs together as you cried out his name through an intense orgasm. He was quick to make you remember who was still in charge here and yanked them back open. “Keep your fuckin’ legs open, you know better when I’m trying to taste you.” He told you firmly, before the sound of his mouth taking a thirsty gulp made your head spin all over again.

[hoffmansgirl]

match made in hell ━ father charlie mayhew ♰

❱ note: this is dirty and so long, i got so carried away...... might make a part two???

﹅ warnings: where do i start... nsfw content of course, blasphemy!!, unprotected piv sex, fingering, squirting, oral (m!receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, finger sucking, choking, slapping, hair pulling, creampie, mirror sex, they are soulmates <3

♡ requests for nicholas/charlie are so open! you ask and i deliver :) let's keep on feeding our delusions lmao

to say that she was a saint would be a complete misunderstanding. she realised that the first time she met him. the priest, devilishly handsome priest, to be exact, was exactly like her. and she noticed it immediately.

she didn't exactly expect a priest to be this young and this handsome. but what really caught her eye, was the soulless look in his eyes. she didn't know why, but she felt an immediate connection with him, as she sat in the furthest corner of the church, yet he still noticed her. hiding in the shadows, she sat, long, black hair falling freely onto her neck and back, short dress that made him rethink the church's dress code. her eyes glimmering with curiosity, as she listened to his sermon, or at least pretended to. she wet her lips, tilting her head, her eyes wide and devilish.

and then she noticed: his eyes lit up with passion and pure interest as he held her stare throughout rest of the mass.

charlie tried to explain the feeling that bloomed in his chest, but he couldn't. he has never seen this girl before, her every move was hypnotising to him. the way she tilted her head in wonder, her lips pickering just slightly, as she studied his face as if she was admiring him... it made his heart beat faster, his palms becoming sweaty, mind going blank.

the mass ended soon after, and charlie sighed in relief as people began to leave the small church. he then walked around the altar, blowing out the candles, his mind still wandering around the brunette girl, when a soft, melodic voice behind his back caught him off guard.

"hello, um... i'm sorry, father... i'm y/n", she started, pretty much relaxed, keeping her eyes on her hands. her voice like a psalm to him, his heart beating loudly in his chest, as he stilled, waiting for the right moment to turn around.

"i'm charlie", he shouldn't have said that. he should've kept it professional, but as soon as he turned around and his black eyes met her green ones, he felt that electricity go through his veins again. they were alone now, everyone has left the church, the silence comfortable for both of them. y/n looked up at the much taller man, the dim candle lights made his face glow, and she thought he was absolutely mesmerising. his full lips curled into a small smirk, his eyes following her every move, and she couldn't help but smile too.

"i have never seen you before, y/n", he noticed carefully, leaning against the altar, the veins in his hands popping out, and her eyes wandered on them for a little too long. she crossed her arms on her chest, the cold air hitting her skin with a sudden force, and she shrugged.

"the truth is, father... i want to confess. kind of", she hesitated, the big cross behind charlie's head making her question everything. god doesn't judge us, she thought, convincing herself. "maybe we could talk somewhere more... private? if you're okay with it", she corrected herself quickly, though her confidence never faded, even for a second. the determination visible in her eyes, and charlie got lost in her for a second, his own eyes sparking with something very unfamiliar to him. that was both exciting and... thrilling.

"whatever you need, y/n", he said wholeheartedly, "do you want me to drive you home?" the words left his mouth before he could think about them, and she opened her mouth in shock. pink blush adoring her cheeks, her lashes fluttering, the tension in her lower stomach getting more intense by each passing second.

"yes, i would very much enjoy that".

about twenty minutes later charlie and y/n pulled up by the girl's house. a comfortable silence was followed by a quiet sigh falling out of y/n's mouth.

"thank you so much, father", she whispered, eyes on his side profile, and she couldn't help but notice the way his strong, defined jaw clenched at her words.

"call me charlie", he replied simply, hands on the steering wheel, as he kept his eyes on the driveway.

"okay, then..." y/n breathed out, playful smile on her lips. "thank you, charlie", she corrected herself, and pressed her back against the passenger door. the corner of his mouth twitched, and his head turned to look at her.

she looked like a goddess, charlie thought, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of her creamy thighs on full display. her short and tight dress has ridden up her thighs, her hair slightly messy, but still shiny and silky. her boobs tightly pressed together because of the arms resting comfortably on her chest. and her face looked angelic. charlie was mesmerised by her beauty, the urge to touch her now stronger than ever.

"i shall keep going", he cleared his throat, voice slightly shaky as he spoke.

"do you want to come in?", the words left her mouth before she had the time to think it through.

charlie tilted his head and looked at her with a devilish look in his dark eyes. she smiled softly, and shifted on her seat slightly, her predatory gaze focused on his serious face.

"of course", he replied simply and opened the door on his right, leaving the car quickly. she got up right after he did, and they walked together towards her apartment.

she unlocked the door to her apartment and welcomed him in with a quick smile.

"feel yourself at home", she said softly, leaning back against the wardrobe in the interior. she watched him take off his coat, his muscles tensing as he moved around. she bit her lip involuntarily, unholy images in her head.

charlie complimented y/n's apartment as they walked towards her room, a bottle of french wine in her hand.

she closed the door behind them, and she pointed towards a chair next to her bed. charlie sat down comfortably, leaning back, his legs spread wide as if he was inviting her to come between them.

"let me get changed real quick", she said, looking at herself in the mirror. the tight dress sitting perfectly on her figure, but she was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable in it. she took off her platform shoes and looked at charlie, who was already staring.

he smiled slightly and closed his eyes to give her the possibility to change comfortably. but she reacted quickly, heart beating loudly in her chest.

"don't cover your eyes, charlie", her voice barely a whisper, and if it wasn't for the quietness of her room, he wouldn't hear her. but he most definitely did. he gripped the edges of the chair tightly, and his eyes opened, so did his mouth, charlie's breathing uneven.

"i really shouldn't", he said after a second or two. his purity ring glistened in the dim lightning, and he reminded himself who he was.

he took the vows. he wasn't just a man; he was a priest, god's messenger, but the urge to look at her was too strong. she smiled kindly, as if she was doing something completely innocent, but he wasn't fooled. she was a devil, sent by god to test his loyality to him. yet, he couldn't bring himself to care. his cock grew stiff in his tight dress pants, longing to feel a touch of another human, any ounce of self control leaving his body.

y/n turned toward the mirror and put her hair over one of her shoulders. "i need some help", she smiled, referring to zipper of the dress. charlie nodded his head and got up quickly, his muscular body now behind her as he stared at her in the mirror.

charlie, very slowly, let his fingers run through her covered back, and she shivered, her eyes closing just for a moment before they opened in pure bliss.

he pulled the zipper of her dress quickly, the material falling into the floor with a soft sound. she stood there, right in front of him in just a black, lacy, slightly seen-through underwear. charlie's breath hitched, his gaze more intense, as he shamelessly looked at her exposed body.

she bit her lip, her eyes meeting his' in the mirror, as she took a step back, only to lean against his hard chest. her head tilted back, deep sigh escaping her parted lips.

"you and me..." she whispered, keeping eye contact with him, while leaning further into him, her lips dangerously close to his neck. "we are the same. i could feel it the moment i saw you. the darkness inside of you..." she stopped for a moment, only to turn around, now facing him. yn's hands run over his chest, his breath heavy against her hands. "is fascinating. you are fascinating. and you're a sinner, just like me".

charlie bit his lip and looked in the mirror again. long black hair falling on her back in cascades and her perfect ass exposed only for him to see. his hands slowly travelled from her spine towards her arched lower back, and then he cupped her ass. she sighed, her hot breath tickling the skin on his jaw. charlie couldn't look away from the way y/n's back arched into his touch, and her head fell onto his shoulder.

"just like you, huh?" charlie chuckled lowly, his raspy voice sent a wave of arousal straight to her core. "or maybe, you're just a greedy little slut, ready to open her legs for me whenever i please?"

his words were followed by a sharp smack of his hand on her ass cheek, as she hissed loudly, devilish grin spreading on his face slowly. she stood on her tiptoes, brushing her nose against his, charlie's eyes fixated on her lips, as he smacked her ass again. this time, she whimpered. her eyes closed, body leaning into his touch, and a single moan left charlie's mouth at the sound of her.

with his hands still on y/n'a ass, he lifted her up easily, the bulge in his pants getting in contact with the thin material of her panties. charlie pressed her against the wall, her hands on his shoulders, as she challenged him with her eyes, the fire in his dark irises making her melt into his touch.

he closed the distance between them, and their lips met for the first time, and she moaned at the taste of him. he didn't rush, instead, he took his time to explore her mouth with his tongue, a strangled groan leaving his throat at the contact.

"you can deny it all you want, father", y/n's said breathlessly, but he didn't let her finish. his mouth was on her again, this time more demanding, intense and passionate, as he devoured her, soft, lewd sounds leaving both of their mouths, his fingers pressing into her soft thighs with enough force to leave bruises. "but you know i'm right. you might be a priest, but you're a really sinful one", she finished, charlie's mouth trailing kisses down her neck. y/n's eyes closed, her head falling back against the wall behind her.

obscene sound left charlie's mouth, her skin soft, and he carried y/n to her bed. she gasped in surprise as her back hit her soft, satin sheets; charlie standing in the foot of the bed, his eyes hungrily taking in the view in front of him.

"you are not a sin to me", he voiced, and y/n held her breath. a sincere smile on her face, as she took in the view in front of her. charlie looked wrecked, his cheeks red, lips slightly swollen, hair messy, a little smile adoring his face just right.

regret washed over her chest just for a moment, god is always watching. but as soon as father charlie fell to his knees, his hands pulling her to the edge of the bed with a swift move, her mind went blank.

he spread her legs wide, fingers pressing into her plush thighs, and he moaned at the sight of her. she was leaning back on her forearms, hair messed up, lips parted as she breathed heavily, and she let her hand touch his cheek softly, until her thumb met his mouth. charlie parted his lips, his heart thudding in his chest, his tongue reaching out to lick her finger.

y/n sat on the bed, her boobs now right in front of his face, as she inserted the finger into his mouth. they moaned in unison, and charlie's eyes fluttered shut, mouth closing around her thumb, sucking, licking and lightly biting at it.

her body shook as she watched the obscene scene, wetness coating her panties as his fingers dig deeper into her thighs, and yet another moan left charlie's mouth.

when y/n's thumb slipped out of his mouth with a "pop", he opened his eyes. he looked up at her desperately, and she smiled, her hand now resting on the back of his head, as she tugged at his hair roughly. charlie's brows furrowed, whimper left his mouth, his throat now on full display for her hungry eyes.

he got up from his knees as she gestured him to do so, and she led him to lay down on her bed, mouth immediately finding his, the hunger getting unbearable. charlie bit her lower lip, pulling at it, drawing blood from the little cut of his sharp teeth.

he greedily lapped at the red substance, the metallic taste making him moan into her mouth, as his hips thrusted into the air with shameless desperation.

y/n's fingers found the buttons of his shirt, and she undid them with surprising precision, her mouth finding his hard chest as soon as he took the unwanted material from his body.

"you're such a slut", he groaned as she sucked at his nipple, a simple tug at her long hair making her moan shamelessly. he smiled devilishly at the feeling of her tongue swirling against the hard bud, and he tilted his head back, hair falling onto his sweaty face.

"givin' god a show, aren't you? what would he think if he saw you? so greedy to please your priest, 's embarrassing, really", he mumbled, putting her hair into a makeshift ponytail as her mouth got closer and closer to the bulge in his pants.

unable to take it no more, charlie flipped them over so that he was towering over her, his gold cross necklace hanging in front of her face. he tore the bra off her chest, his fingers immediately pulling at the soft skin of her boobs, fingers twisting at her nipples with newfound confidence and roughness. y/n whimpered his name softly, back arching into his chest, her lips already in search of his own.

charlie spread her legs open, fingers tugging at her panties, and she let him take them off her body. her cunt now exposed, his hungry eyes taking in the sight of her perfect body, and he cursed, mouth falling open at the sight of her wet pussy.

"you're so fucking disgusting", he exclaimed, rough hands travelling down her body, down her hips, thighs, and finally reaching the place where she needed him the most. "getting all wet for your priest. don't you feel ashamed?" he asked rhetorically, fingers brushing over her puffy folds, and she squealed as he toyed with her clit, pressing tight circles into it. y/n whined, her hands on his back, pressing into his wounds with enough force to draw blood. charlie hissed, and suddenly two of his his fingers slipped inside her clenching cunt.

"you're so tight", he almost whimpered, the clenching of her cunt on his fingers making it really hard for him to control the urge to straight up fuck her. "how am i supposed fit in here, hmm?"

he withdrew his fingers out of her pussy, only to force them in with an aggression that had y/n clenching even harder around him. charlie pressed his hot mouth against hers again, and she was unable to kiss him back, her mouth falling open, and charlie laughed, moving inside of her slowly.

"you won't ever be touched by another man again", he hissed with such venom that her eyes fell open, vision blurring from the feeling of slow thrusts of his fingers inside her wet pussy. "you", thrust. "are", thrust, "mine", thrust, and he moved at a rapid speed now, keeping eye contact with her, and she cried out, nodding her head mindlessly. "mine to worship. mine to cherish. mine to fuck", his thumb found her clit, and she was oh so close. she cried out, and he gave her a dirty, open mouthed smirk, his thrusts never slowing. charlie's head leaned down, and his lips found her perky nipple, closing around it, swirling his tongue swiftly, matching the pace of his fingers inside of her.

"oh my god, please", she let out, eyes finally flattering shut, back arching into his mouth, and he tutted, his mouth and fingers leaving her body altogether.

she cried out in protest, but before she could speak up, he tugged at her jaw and squeezed her cheeks, her lips pouting. "if you want to cum, you have to beg for it, like the desperate little slut you are" the vulgar words leaving his mouth making y/n nod her head desperately, the grasp on her jaw making it hard to move.

charlie smiled at the pathetic look in her eyes, and freed her face.

"i'm sorry, charlie. please, touch me again. i need you. i crave for you━ fuck, please", y/n begged, and he obeyed, cruel look in his eyes as his hand travelled down her heaving chest, down her stomach and finally reaching its destination.

charlie's fingers pushed into her tight cunt again, and she muttered a quiet "thank you", her hands finding his shoulders for balance, as his fingers disappeared into her over and over again, and she cried out, tears of pleasure coating her waterline.

"yeah, just like that, charlie, please", she welled, holding him close, the intense feeling in her lower stomach different from anything she's ever experienced, and her eyes fell open. "charlie..."

he pressed her body into his with a single tug at her hip, pressing open open mouthed kisses on her neck, tongue darting out to taste at her sweet skin, teeth biting at every ounce of her body he could reach.

"it's okay, pretty girl", he whispered, fingers pressing into her g point again and again, her tight cunt spasming in a way that had him throbbing in the tightness of his pants. "make a mess for me", that was the confirmation she needed, as she let go, transparent liquid gushing out of her cunt with every withdraw of his fingers. slowly wetting his hand, pants, the insides of her thighs and the velvet sheets under them.

she tried to get away from his tight grasp, but he held her down with his other hand, and his nose pressed into her hair, breathing her in slowly, whispering sweet nothings as she came down from her high.

she gasped in relief as his thick fingers left her pulsing walls, and he tapped them on y/n's lower lip.

"suck them clean for me", charlie cooed, and her mouth took him in gladly, swirling her tongue around his fingers, and then sucked them in until they hit the back of her throat.

"just like that, just like that" he groaned, fucking her mouth with his digits, and she gagged, her pussy starting to tingle yet again.

"i want to see you cumming on my cock", charlie exclaimed, struggling with the button of his pants, and y/n helped him, pushing them down along with his boxers.

her mouth fucking opened at the sight of his cock, the view so astonishingly beautiful and overwhelming, gasp leaving her parted lips, and he just laughed as if it was nothing.

y/n thought it was unreal, that he was unreal, his whole body belonging in a museum. before he had the time to react, she flipped them over and straddled his hips, fingers scratching at his chest.

"you are so fucking hot", y/n breathed out as she slowly rubbed her clit on his hard cock, and charlie's eyes rolled back, fingers digging into the reddened skin of her ass. "i can't control myself around you. you drive me fucking crazy, charlie", y/n almost cried out, the desperation in her voice driving charlie crazy. her moves slow and sensual, her moves snake-like, long nails digging into his skin.

"stop teasing me, y/n. come on, let's give god a show, shall we?", charlie's voice strangled as he chuckled lowly, and y/n smiled cruelly, her lips wandering around his neck, collarbones and chest, biting at his soft skin, moaning at the taste of his blood.

"what would god say if he saw you like this? giving into the temptation, betraying his trust and the church you work in, hmm?" she mumbled, teeth grazing over the gold cross sitting prettily on his chest, and charlie hissed, eyes meeting hers again, her movements on his cock getting harder and needier.

"you are the best thing that's happened to me, ever", charlie whispered wholeheartedly and reached for his cock, giving it a few pumps before sliding into y/n's tight cunt, moans filling the thick air around them as she clenched on his tip uncontrollably.

"you are so big, my god", a single tear ran down her cheek, charlie's thumb wiping it in an instant. "you wanted it, so fucking take it".

as the words left his mouth, he snapped his hips up and she fell forward, his whole length stretching her out like nothing she's ever experienced. he throbbed inside of her, and a satisfied moan left his mouth at the wetness and warmness of her insides.

y/n clinged to him, pressing her breasts tightly against his chest, fingers squeezing on his strong arms. the feeling of his body against her own made her lightheaded, and she whimpered into his neck.

"i'm never letting you go", he exclaimed, and her eyes found his as she began riding his cock slowly, the stretch deliciously painful. "you are mine. now and forever. fuck, ride me just like that" charlie breathed out, the rasp in his voice making her more desperate, as she took all of him inside over and over again, hands pressing into his chest, head lulling back.

the rhythm she set was driving charlie insane as she watched her with half lidded eyes, shameless moans leaving his mouth at the sight of her perky tits bouncing right on his face. he looked down at the place where they connected. the slow movements of her hips allowed him to see the wetness coating his dick as she slid down on him again, and she swore she could feel him in her throat from how big he was.

"you're my match made in hell", she moaned and pressed herself against him again, fingers tugging at his messy hair, nose pressing against his. in the moment the atmosphere changed, and his eyes softened just for a moment, smile adoring his face as he tugged at her long hair, and his hips rising up from the bed, meeting hers. he started thrusting into her, fast and hard, her ass snapping against his thighs again and again. charlie's hands gripped at her waist tightly as he lifted her up just barely, the slight change of angle allowing him to move at a rapid speed. y/n cried out, not having any control of her body as he manhandled her. desperately, she smashed her lips against his, charlie's tongue entering her mouth instantly, and he moaned at the taste of her, and he thrusted again, again and again.

"i want to cum with you, charlie", she whispered, tears coating her face, smudged makeup making her look even more beautiful for him, as he bottomed out fully.

she welled when her cock left her, and the next second she was on her knees, facing the mirror in an instant. her eyes widened at the sight of herself, completely ruined and fucked up just for him to see. then she looked at charlie, his chest heaving with shallow breaths, as he pumped his cock behind her, the veins on his arms showing. "god, help me. you are gonna be the death of me", he hissed, his thick cock throbbing in his tight grasp. y/n backed herself against him, signalling that she wanted, no, she needed more.

"please, no more teasing," she begged, reaching for his cock behind her, but charlie was quick to stop her, smacking her hand away, as he aligned himself against her used hole once again.

"look at me", he whispered into her ear as his girthy length pressed into her tightness again, and she did, her head lulling back against his shoulder. he slowly moved in and out, every thrust precise, his soulless eyes staring into hers in the mirror, the sight making her clench around him. "you're fucking ruined for me, my beautiful girl, makin' me feel so good", he cooed, one hand landing on her lower back, pushing her upper body down onto the bed, the arch he created letting him hit that spongy spot inside of her over and over again. y/n cried out, his movements still teasing and unbearably slow, and her hips trying to buck back into him. charlie groaned with disapproval, his hand yanking at her hair roughly, her ass pressing tightly against his lower stomach.

"stop. fucking. moving", he hissed, voice like venom, and she nodded her head furiously, "i'm sorry" leaving her mouth over and over again like a prayer. her hand reached back to tangle itself in his messy hair, and she looked up at him, his eyes half-closed as he kept thrusting into her, and he let go of her hair only to wrap his fingers around her neck, pressing onto her pulse tightly. y/n cried out, and charlie's other hand held her jaw open slightly.

"open your mouth for me, just like that", he praised, y/n mouth fell open at the command, tongue lolling out of her mouth without a thought. and when he spit into her mouth, keeping eye contact with her during the vulgar act, thrusting into her harder than ever, she swore she could see stars. y/n swallowed his spit quickly, shameless moan leaving her mouth at the feeling of warm liquid, and in that moment she felt so deeply connected with him, and her eyes softened, heart aching for him as she got closer and closer to her climax.

"charlie, i'm gonna cum", y/n's voice came out strangled, his hand on her neck making it hard for her to breathe. her hands tugging at his own in search of closeness, and he took her hands into his much bigger ones, a single thrust of his hips making her fall down onto the bed again. he held her hands down on her lower back, his throbbing cock ruining her insides, and she screamed, burying her head into the sheets, finally falling over the edge.

y/n clenched around him, making it hard for him to move, and charlie hissed, letting go of her hands as he thrusted into her slowly, fucking her through her orgasm. he held back a whine threatening to leave his throat, dick twitching in search of release as she came down from her own, crying into the sheets.

"you're doing so good for me, y/n. i'm gonna cum inside your pretty pussy, and you're gonna let me, yeah?" his chest pressed against hers, and she was unable to reply, overstimulated and spent, his cock kissing her g spot repeatedly. charlie grabbed her chin, pressing his lips against hers, slowly and passionately, as he gripped at her ass and moaned, balls pressing into her clit as he clinged to her, finally letting go.

charlie whimpered into y/n's mouth as he came, painting her inner walls white with his cum, marking her as his for life. his body shook slightly, and she whined softly, the feeling of his cock filling her up immaculate.

charlie broke the kiss, pressing his face into the back of her neck tightly, his cock never softening inside of her, even after the soul crashing orgasm he just experienced. she smiled, the moment so important to her, and she reached out to run her fingers through his wet hair, and she's never felt more safe in her life.

after a few seconds charlie got up, his whole body tense as his throbbing cock left her spent hole. she whined at the loss, and then turned around to face him, barely being able to move, face flushed and covered in tears.

even though she had no energy left inside of her, the sight of his pretty cock, standing tall and proud in the air, covered in both of their releases, woke up something inside of her.

"lay down for me", she whispered, fingers brushing against his cheek softly, and he nodded, his scarred back pressing against the sheets again.

"your cock 's so pretty", y/n wrapped her hand around him, eyes filled with adoration, and charlie's eyes widened at the sudden intrusion, his head falling back involuntarily.

"holy shit, baby", he whimpered and let his hands roam against her thighs as she kneeled beside him. "'s too much", he cried out, submitting to her completely, the pain from overstimulation adding to his pleasure.

y/n cooed, and she leaned down, kitten licking at his tip, moaning at the taste of his pearly cum. "god, you taste so fucking good. i need your cum down my throat", she exclaimed, taking his tip into her mouth, and his hips thrusted wildly. y/n gagged, her desperate moan vibrating against his shaft, and he held her hair in a tight grasp, groan leaving his throat.

"you're perfect, god. where have you been all my life? holy shit━ i need this so fucking bad", charlie mumbled nonsense as y/n took him into her mouth fully, throat contracting against him, and he had to bit at his lip to physically stop himself from crying out. y/n's soft hands caressed his hips, and she sucked and licked at his pink tip as if he was a lollipop, her eyes falling open just to focus on his pretty face.

"i'm coming. god, i'm coming, please" charlie whined, and she nodded, sucking at his leaking tip with desperation, his cock twitching weakly as he thrusted into her mouth. warm cum filled her mouth, and she kept on sucking him dry as he came down, his body shaking terribly, endless moans leaving his mouth.

softly pulling away from his now softening cock, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, swallowing all of his heavenly cum, her throat sore.

she let herself fall next to him on the bed, his hands pulling at her soft skin with a need of closeness. he wrapped a protective arm around her shaking body, her head resting against his chest comfortably.

"you know, i meant everything i said", she said after a few minutes, tracing circles on his broad chest, smile never leaving her face.

"i know, baby. i know" he cooed, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead as she melted into him. "i meant everything too. you are so precious to me, so special", he whispered softly, warmness spreading across his body as he thought about the things they could achieve together, how she could help him with what he was planning.

and he wondered if her soul was as wounded as his own. the sickness of his mind, was she really ready to accept him just as he was? she won't have no choice, he thought, because she will be mine forever. no matter what it takes.

[1d1195]

Pucking Rookie V

Read Pucking Rookie here | ~5.9k words

From me: this is almost entirely a filler episode.

Warnings: fluff. nauseating fluff. Jealous MC. Cute vulnerable moments.

Summary: Harry is determined to break her walls down even if he has to do it slowly.

Harry didn’t force her to move out (yet) even though he wanted her to. But he spent a lot more time on the bad side of town now that he beat up Kael. Michael ogled over the pretty car he left with her. “If you don’t sleep with him, I will,” he muttered around a drag of his cigarette when she first parked it in front of their building.

“Get in line!” Marc shouted from the doorway waiting for her to enter.

She rolled her eyes. Fortunately, Harry was a few minutes behind her, so he didn’t hear their crass thoughts. “Great game, man,” Michael nodded.

“Yeah! You were close to getting a shirt-trick!”

Harry chuckled, putting his hand on her lower back as she covered her eyes. “You’re embarrassing me, Marc. It’s a hat-trick.”

“Close enough,” he shrugged.

“It’s not—”

“Thanks, mate,” Harry laughed and nudged her forward cutting her off from rebuking Marc. Harry liked the guys in her apartment well enough, but he wanted her to himself in the privacy of the apartment that smelled just like her. In whatever way he could have her, which meant just being friends.

When they got to her place, she went to her dresser and pulled out a set of clothes and headed for the bathroom without another word. Harry looked through the photos spread on her counter. The same ones from her series that she was already insisting on would never be.

He looked through the other photos too. The ones on the fridge and wall (his still centered right above the water and ice dispenser) her talent was incredible. He heard the shower turn on and then the door opened immediately. “Do you want to shower?” She asked tossing her clothes in the hamper. Instead of her normal rink outfit, she was wearing a pair of leggings and T-shirt.

“With you? Of course, Rookie,” he didn’t look up because he knew that line of thinking was dangerous, and he didn’t want her to get mad at him. She snorted.

“Go,” she rolled her eyes with a sigh. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek sloppily. “Gross you’re all sweaty!” She shoved him.

“Manly,” he tugged his sweatshirt off and tossed it at her.

While Harry showered, she busied herself making tea and organizing items for tomorrow. She knocked on the door to give Harry a set of sweats he left the last time he was over. “Y’joining me?” He asked excitedly.

“Leaving clothes for you to change in to,” she opened the door briefly and set them on the sink counter without looking inside.

“Break m’heart, Rookie,” he sighed and continued showering.

She shook her head with a smirk. Harry was funny, adorable, sexy, and sweet in a way that should have been illegal because it was just not fighting fair. She wasn’t going to fall in love with another hockey player. Not one that was one of the top names in the league. Instead, she admired the pictures she took of him. How handsome he looked, the defined jawline, the way his hair curled with sweat. His smile, the dimples. “Hey Rookie, do y’have deodorant in here?”

Oh God, this was too domestic. She should have suggested driving to his place. At least there she had her own guest room to create a boundary. Albeit an arbitrary, dumb boundary that did next to nothing. “In the drawer beneath the sink,” she answered.

She shivered slightly in her freezing apartment but refused to turn the heat on. She grabbed the sweatshirt on the back of the couch to put on over her T-shirt. The tea was almost ready, and Harry exited the bathroom. He came around silently and tugged the hem of the sweatshirt. “Looks nice on you,” he mumbled and smoothed his hand down her back. She didn’t realize she had grabbed the very sweatshirt Harry had tossed at her. She shivered again and stepped away from him.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” His smile was anything but innocent.

She shook her head and elbowed him out of her way, before heading to the couch with her cup of tea. Harry followed her with his own cup of tea. He pulled her legs into his lap, placed a blanket on top of them, and then ran his hand up and down her shin. “Y’know, Rookie, y’don’t have t’make all these boundaries. M’not going t’push you.”

“They’re for me,” she reminded him and focused on finding a show to watch before she inevitably fell asleep on the sofa.

“I know,” he sighed and sipped his own drink. His hair was still damp, and his soft curls fell a little awkwardly around his pretty face. “But m’not gonna hurt you... Would rather die than hurt you,” he gave her leg a squeeze.

“I know,” she mumbled.

He grinned. “Good. M’glad y’know that. That makes me happy.”

With the show selected, she set her tea on the coffee table and shifted in her spot. “I think the Wolves might be the most chauvinistic, most terrible team in the league,” she reached for a throw pillow, rotated until her head laid in his lap. He put one hand on her side and rubbed it gently.

“I couldn’t agree more,” he murmured and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

She yawned and sighed. “You smell good.”

“S’your deodorant,” he reminded her.

“I know, that’s why you smell good.”

He chuckled, shook his head, and sipped his tea again.

*

The team took up the entire airport bar. Or at least most of the team. Callie and Asher were among the hungover from the night before, so that group stayed at the gate with their eyes closed. They were within view of the bar so at least there wouldn’t be any issues, and the rest of the team could jump at a moment’s notice to help them out. She was seated beside Lang and showing him the pictures she took of last night's game. They were heading back home after a three-day stint going through a series of away games in the same vicinity the first. The guys were exhausted from traveling and only getting to a hotel for no more than one night at a time. All that travel, with all their stuff, was exhausting. She was exhausted too. A lot of the media posts needed to be out each night by a certain time. Submissions for the news outlets had to be in by midnight for the following morning. She felt tired and hadn’t even strained her body the way they had. As such, she didn’t have a drink at the bar, merely some coffee to try and get her mind to work a little faster for the plane trip home.

She sat on one leg to lean over Lang while looking at the photos on her camera screen.

“Hey Sweetheart, do you want a drink?” Niall called a ways down the bar. She shook her head.

“Thank you, though.”

“Are you sure? Harry’s buying!”

“Oh yeah?” She smiled and looked at number eleven with a grin. “Lose a bet?”

He rolled his eyes. “If y’want a drink m’paying,” he shrugged. She wondered if he would pay for her just because (even if he didn't lose a bet)

“I’ll take you up on that.”

Her head snapped up unwillingly. A pretty girl stood beside Harry’s seat. She had long hair that didn’t have a single strand popping off her scalp in a mess of frizz. Her smile was stunning, practically blindingly beautiful. Her makeup was flawless and expertly applied. She didn’t look exhausted from days of travel. She garnered the attention of every pair of eyes on the team.

Including hers.

“Oh... hi,” Harry said standing quickly. “Do y’want t’sit?” He asked.

Her chest flamed with jealousy. She looked back at her camera and sat on the seat hoping to make herself smaller beside Lang. Thankful for the big hockey player beside her and he blocked most of the visual of their interaction. If only Callie and Asher were sitting beside her too so she wouldn’t have to hear them talk. Although she imagined even if they were around her making their jokes, they too would have been stunned to silence by the beautiful woman sitting by Harry.

“He doesn’t like her,” Lang murmured quietly in her ear. She felt a flare of hope warm her body. Then the doubt took over, she shook her head.

“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugged hoping her voice didn’t betray her with how shitty it felt. In an attempt to distract herself further, she put her camera back in the bag. “He’s not mine.”

Lang snorted, then chuckled under his breath. “Sure Sweetheart, sure.”

At that moment her phone vibrated, which supplied her with the distraction she needed from feeling like shit watching Harry. Do you want me to boot and rally to flirt with you? Make Harry jealous?

No thank you, Callie. That seems like a bad idea. For a lot of reasons.

I do nt meed to rhrrow uyp. I c sann f;lirt. with yoou righht n ow. I kjust ca nt open m. y eeyes m. uch.

Thank you Asher, that’s alright. It’s not a big deal. He can flirt with whoever he wants.

You know he WANTS to flirt with you, right?

She didn’t respond to Callie because it was just making her grumpy to think about it. “Hey Sweetheart, are you still going to the little convenience store? Can you grab me something to read for the flight?” Niall asked. She was too tired to think about moving but she was grateful for another attempted distraction. Harry was clearly engrossed in his conversation with the pretty woman. At least he was kind to speak quietly.

“Yeah, I was just going,” she stood up and reached in her purse to pay for her coffee. “It’s all set, Sweetheart,” Lang assured her. He took her camera bag off her shoulder. “I’ll watch this with my life. Just go,” he winked.

“Thanks Cap,” she smiled.

“Ugh, Styles is a lucky man,” he grumbled as he hoisted the bag on his shoulder.

She scurried away feeling infinitely better as she walked further away from the pretty woman and the equally pretty hockey player. There was no right to feel jealous. Harry wasn’t her boyfriend. He didn’t owe her anything. He could talk to any woman he wanted, and it didn’t have to affect her.

But it didn’t mean that it didn’t affect her.

She was looking at books for Niall hoping to find something she would want to read in case he didn’t like her fake selection. Then she moved onto the snacks looking for a way to eat the emotions she was feeling. Stupid Harry and his stupid pretty face. She couldn’t even blame the woman because Harry was so pretty it seemed inhumane to not flirt with him. She was the weird one. Not letting him in and not letting him be her boyfriend because why? She was stubborn. Didn’t want to get hurt again.

Harry wouldn’t hurt her, right? Not intentionally. Granted she never really imagined Kael hurting her either. Not cheating on her, anyway.

The exhaustion was getting to her. Her mind spinning aimlessly trying to make sense of her own thoughts seemed next to impossible. Harry was handsome, charming, talented, and overall perfect. Of course, a woman he knew would flirt with him because he was in town. They didn’t have a game the next day, maybe he would stay.

“Rookie.”

She continued looking at snacks, picking up the chocolate covered pretzels that were so overpriced she wouldn’t have gotten them even if she was starving. But her jealous heart wanted chocolate. “Oh hi,” she mumbled. “Do you want something?”

“No, Rookie,” he came over to her and put a hand on her back. It felt warm and safe, and she practically melted into his touch instantly. “Are y’alright?”

She nodded. “Course. I’m just tired.”

“Are y’sure?”

“Why would anything be wrong, Harry?”

He pressed his lips together and shrugged. “Y’got up in a hurry.”

“Mm... well, the flight’s going to be boarding soon. We should probably get back actually,” she turned for the register.

“Rookie,” his voice was gentle.

“Anything else?” The cashier asked.

“That’s it,” she tapped her phone to the payment kiosk, but it declined. Of course. She closed her eyes and turned her face to the ceiling. Pain behind her eyes started to ensue. From unshed tears or a coming headache, she wasn’t sure. Either way she sighed deeply, hoping the ground would swallow her whole.

“Here, I have it—”

“Harry, stop it.”

“Rookie, just let me pay for it so we can go back—”

“Forget it,” she abandoned all her items and headed back for the gate.

“Rookie, Jesus!” He shouted. She was already half way back to the gate before he caught up to her (the bag of items she left behind surely paid for by him in hand). Some of the team was already boarding. She grabbed her camera from Lang without so much as pausing and cut the front of the line (not that anyone minded), and headed down the tunnel to the plane. “Rookie, stop it,” he grumbled.

Callie had a seat open next to him, his head resting against the wall beside the closed window and she flopped into the seat beside him. He opened one eye briefly and smiled. “Hi, Sweetheart.”

“Get out of this row,” Harry snapped. His voice was closer but slightly out of breath. He must have been hustling down the boarding bridge and she felt bad because sure, she was mad (not even at him) but he was tired too.

“Harry, I’m not—”

“Not you. Callie, get up.”

“Harry, he’s not feeling wel—”

“He’s fine. Calloway.”

“Styles, I’m going to throw up,” he moaned.

“And she’s not taking care of y’the whole flight. Get up.”

Callie groaned and hauled himself out of the seat into another empty row a couple seats behind. Almost instantly, she tried to get out of the row but once Callie passed, Harry blocked her. “Sit down, Rookie,” he ordered.

“Quit being so bossy—”

He didn’t move. Eventually she sighed, and Harry waited until she was seated in Callie’s now empty seat. Harry sat beside her almost triumphantly. She fiddled with her seat settings and air settings all while ignoring Harry. “Rookie,” he said sweetly. “C’mon Rookie, talk t’me.”

“About what, Harry?” she rubbed her eyes. “I’m exhausted. You’re exhausted. Just let me sleep on your hard, uncomfortable shoulder so I can complain more when we land.”

Harry sighed, shook his head. “Here’s your bag of stuff,” he plopped it on her tray table.

“Thank you,” she mumbled and sorted it quickly. She tucked the bag of chocolate-covered pretzels that she knew she put back before Harry got there into the back of the seat in front of her. “Niall,” she called quietly.

“Yeah, Sweetheart?” His voice came from in front of her and she tapped on the shoulder of the person in front of her.

“I think you’ll like that one,” she told him as the book was passed forward.

“Sounds good, Sweetheart, thank you!”

She had no idea why he was thanking her when he was the one that had her go get the book as a distraction from the jealousy she was feeling. She ignored Harry’s stare, warm on the side of her face while she got settled. Harry put the neck pillow around him and pulled a blanket from his carry-on before clipping himself into his seat.

The pair of them sat in silence during the safety demonstration and the takeoff information. She gripped the arm rest tight as they took off and Harry gently pried her fingers from the plastic and cupped her hand in his. Softly he squeezed it and brought it to his lips to give the back of her knuckles a kiss. Her heart softened and she felt idiotic for feeling so jealous. Tears pricked her eyes overwhelmed with too many emotions that didn’t make sense, all exacerbated by how tired she was.

Quietly, she sniffled. So softly that she didn’t think Harry had heard it even though her head now rested on his muscular shoulder that wasn’t like a pillow at all. The hum of the plane’s engines surely drowned out any emotion she was feeling and therefore any noise she was making. But after a moment, Harry carefully coaxed her head down until her ear rested against his heart. The arm near her draped around her and his lips brushed softly against her earlobe. With the other hand he pulled the neck pillow from him and dropped it to his lap to keep her propped up.

“Rookie,” he hummed quietly into her ear. “I don’t like her. I would never want t’make y’jealous. Y’know that. I cut all that stuff off,” he reminded her. “M’sorry you were upset. I was only being polite and nothing more. M’sorry we’re both tired,” his voice was so quiet and warm. It ached her in a way couldn’t describe all over her tired body. “You’re the only woman I think ‘bout, Rookie. Y’have nothing t’be jealous of whether we’re a couple or not,” he promised. “M’gonna wait as long as y’need,” tears spilled from her eyes because his reassurance was so sweet and so unnecessary. She didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve some hot hockey player to denounce all women for her. They weren’t a couple, and he shouldn’t have to worry about making her jealous. She sniffled a little louder. “Don’t cry, Rookie. Y’breaking m’heart,” his other hand found her cheek and brushed his thumb along her skin until it wiped away a tear or two.

“She was so pretty, Harry.”

“You’re beautiful, Bunny.”

“She doesn’t look poor.”

“Money isn't anything.”

“She looked like she belonged with you.”

“You are the one I want.”

Her lip trembled and she tried to keep the tears from breaking out further into a loud, noisy sob that would make the whole team wonder what was happening to her. “Go to sleep, Bunny. I got you,” he promised quietly. His fingers combed softly at her hair and not even the thought of her uncle seeing her snuggled in Harry’s lap was enough to move her from her comfy spot.

“I won’t have anything to complain about if I don’t lay on your shoulder,” she whispered, covering the small sniffle with her words.

Harry chuckled. “M’sure you’ll find something t’complain ‘bout, Rookie.”

*

It was a rare weekend that the team didn’t have any games. It was the perfect weekend for working a double at Louis’ on Friday and Saturday. Friday went off without a hitch, she made great tips, the guys kept her entertained, and she didn’t feel utterly exhausted when she got home at two in the morning.

Harry came in on Saturday right around four when the second half of her shift was starting. “What are you doing here? I thought you guys were having a watch party of the games or something.” She quirked an eyebrow at him and scanned him briefly as he was dressed much too nicely for The Locker Room.

“Come with me,” he smiled and tilted his head toward the exit.

She snorted. “Very kidnappy of you, Styles. I’m working,” she rolled her eyes delivering drinks to the table in front of her. “Not all of us have a talent that makes millions of dollars a year.”

“Harry Styles,” the man at the table gaped as she set the drink down.

Harry waved and nodded at the fan but continued following her. Harry chuckled. “I already told Louis m’taking you.”

“But the tips tonight, Harry. I won’t—”

“I will pay you myself, Rookie. Let’s go,” he ordered.

“Why are you dressed like that? It’s not game day.” He glanced down at his all-black outfit. Button down, suit coat, slacks, and shoes. “I’m not going on a date with you,” she said.

“I’ll go!” A woman called from nearby. She huffed out and rolled her eyes. Harry chuckled at his favorite jealous lady.

“Don’t remind me, but s’not a date, Rookie. Jus’ come with me. S’a surprise.”

“I can’t go in this uniform.”

“If y’make more of a fuss y’won’t have time t’change. M’trying t’get y’home with enough time t’put on something more upscale.”

“I don’t have upscale clothes, Harry. Not anymore. I had to sell most of them.”

Harry figured as much. When the team had fancier events, she had one dress that she wore, it was stunning and made her look like a princess. It was a royal blue that made the flush of her skin look utterly intoxicating, but as such it didn’t take long for Harry to notice it might be the only dress she had for fancy events. “I bought you something.”

“Well, now I really don’t want to go.”

“You’re a piece of work, Rookie,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Can y’jus come with me?”

She paused slightly at the bar as she got a tray of water situated for the next table. “Is it super expensive?” She asked, leaning against the bar.

“I got it on sale—almost killed me. I was told I could return it even if y’wear it,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“What color?”

“Black, so we match. And everyone will know you’re with me.”

“You’re possessive,” she shook her head. But her cheeks felt warm knowing how much she liked the idea.

“Only ‘bout you, Rookie,” he winked. “C’mon.”

*

Harry hurried to her side of the car and helped her out of the seat. The dress fit her perfectly. It didn’t quite touch the floor and hugged her like a second skin. She was gorgeous before she put on the dress. There wasn’t a word to describe how she looked with it on. Harry was nearly speechless as he handed his keys to the valet, and they approached the building. “Styles,” he told the man at the door. He checked them off a list and were ushered inside.

“What is this?” She asked.

Harry shrugged and held his arm out for her to take. Fortunately, she did. “Jus’ something I saw, thought y’would want t’see,” he steered her toward the entrance to the room on the right of the entry way. A line of people meandered as they walked into the spacious venue. A man at the threshold offered them each a glass of wine, Harry handed one to her and then held his own.

“Is this... a gallery?” She blinked.

“Yes,” he smiled. “I saw an event for it on Instagram. I figured we had the night off,” he shrugged.

She smiled. “That’s really sweet, thank you Harry. This is nice,” she admitted and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. Harry was grateful that she liked his surprise. “I think I’m not quite up to snuff. My hair and makeup should have been a little bit... more done up for this place.”

“Y’look perfect, Rookie. Seriously. Prettier than all the art on the walls,” he winked at her. She laughed softly and shook her head at him. “Tell me ‘bout the stuff y’see. I like art, but m’not sure what m’supposed to be seeing,” he murmured to her.

Harry could feel her grinning beside him. She was so pretty in her element. She was gorgeous all dolled up, but Harry really did prefer her in his jersey. Or even her regular rink outfit. That’s where he thought she was prettier than anything else. “Another lesson?” She asked.

“Think y’owe me one for the skating lessons, yeah? I know how t’make hot chocolate now.”

“You can see whatever you want to see, Harry. That’s the beauty of art. It’s individualized.”

“Yeah... but I know there’s supposed t’be a purpose—artist intent or whatever, right?” He may have Googled some lingo over the last couple days in anticipation of taking her. She smirked.

“Yes...” she smiled. “Alright, but you have to tell me what you see before I give you the lowdown,” she shrugged.

The place was filled with beautiful art. Photos, paintings, sculptures. There was a multitude of media and an abundance of people. There was a quiet humming from people milling about. If Harry received any stares from being recognized, he didn’t acknowledge them. For a while it was just the two of them, eating small yummy hors d’oeuvres, sipping wine, and giggling quietly about the artwork.

“What’s your favorite so far?” She asked.

As the night wore on, Harry continued to fall harder and harder for how passionate she was about all things art. The way she spoke about photos, color, angles, and perspective had him in awe. She was so interesting. Undeniably knowledgeable. The way she viewed a painting in multiple ways at once was fascinating.

“Oh, I don’t know, Rookie. There’s so much talent here. M’not sure I could choose. What’s yours?”

“I loved the beachscapes over there,” she tilted her head toward the other side of the room where a series of photos capturing the same spot of a beach over the course of a year lined a section of the wall. “The beach is so pretty.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “Are you hungry for more than these little bites?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Always, Rookie. Y’don’t have t’kid ‘bout that.”

She smirked. “We could stop and get takeout on the way home?” She offered.

He nodded with a smile. “Are you having fun?” He asked.

“Tons, thank you. This is really lovely.”

Harry smiled proudly. “Y’know, Rookie, love, y’should work in a museum giving tours.”

She smirked sadly. “It doesn’t pay well, but that would be the dream. Or to own a studio,” she shrugged.

“A studio,” he repeated.

“Yeah. Something for people to create. Host gallery nights like this,” she sighed dreamily. “My family was a little skeptical of my art degree. I’m in my suffering artist phase right now,” she explained.

Harry opened his mouth to speak again but before he could respond his name was shouted from across the room. “Harry Styles!”

“Even at an art gallery with people who mostly know next to nothing about hockey, there are people who know you,” she shook her head in disbelief and sipped her wine. Harry chuckled, took her hand in place of it remaining on his arm and tugged her alongside him.

“Mr. Howard,” Harry nodded. “Pleasure to see you,” he used his freehand to shake. “This is my friend, Charlie’s niece,” he gestured introducing her and she was surprised to hear him say friend. She figured Harry was apt to make a girlfriend joke. But she didn’t recognize the man so perhaps he wouldn’t have taken kindly to Harry’s antics. “Mr. Howard owns the Polar Bears team,” Harry explained.

“Nice to meet you. You’re having a great season. I thought it was a shame Ray and Charlie didn’t steal Damon Winters before you got him in the draft. He's going to do extremely well over the next few years,” she said sweetly, releasing Harry’s hand to shake as well. However, the second she let go of his hand it felt twenty times colder than the ice rink and she regretted it. Harry couldn’t help it, he smiled with pride of his cute crush who knew so much about hockey and looked like a model. She was the entire package and Harry was lucky to be standing beside her.

The older man chuckled his eyebrows rose in surprise. “I’ll be sure to tell Charlie all about how he should have you on the scouting team the next time I see him... I figured you must be the star of the show,” the older man smiled sweetly. “We were just discussing who was going to go home with your work.”

She tilted her head and blinked in confusion. “I’m sorry, Mr. Howard, you must have me mistaken with someone else. I don’t have work in this show.”

“So modest,” he smirked. “Harry, you saw it, right?”

“Uh... yeah,” he chuckled awkwardly and put a hand on her lower back, the warmth returning instantly. “We hadn’t made it over t’that side of the show yet,” he smirked. She turned to look at Harry, in utter surprise.

“What are you—”

“Oh, I won’t spoil the fun, then. Nice to meet you, love. Harry, try not to take out my whole team next week,” he smiled and sauntered the other way.

“What’s he talking about?”

“Oh, who knows,” Harry shrugged.

“Harry, stop it. Seriously.”

“S’not a big deal, Rookie.”

“What did he mean my stuff was in the show?”

Harry sighed and sipped the last of his drink. “I may have... submitted your hockey series.”

“You what?!” She pulled away from him and turned so they were looking at one another head on. Her eyes were wild but beautiful. Her face froze in surprise. “Why—how did—when...? Harry! What did you do?”

“Well, I did see this gallery on Instagram. I reached out and asked if they were taking submissions. They said it depended on the quality, to be honest. It’s not exactly amateur hour here.”

“Harry my stuff is amat—”

He ignored her and interrupted before she could finish her incorrect thought. “I sent a couple from the series and they immediately wanted to put it up,” Harry continued. “S’no big deal. Y’had it all numbered, I jus’ needed t’print it and put it in frames. I brought some of your extras too because they liked the idea so much. Then I jus’ invited some people I know in the league.”

She put a hand to her mouth. “Harry...”

“Are you mad?” He asked in shock. “Rookie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean t’upset you. I jus’ wanted t’show y’how talented you are. But y’won’t take m’word for it. Thought if y’saw how much people loved it that didn’t know you, y’would believe me. Believe in yourself.”

“Where is it?” She whispered. Her eyes turned glossy, and Harry felt like shit for making her upset.

“Rookie, I’m sor—”

“Where?”

“It’s right over—” He gestured vaguely to the left of the room. She marched over in her pretty shoes. Harry followed after her feeling like a dick for doing it without her permission. In his head, she was going to be overjoyed. Happy. Harry sucked at predicting her emotions. This was almost as bad as making her unintentionally jealous.

“Charlie is lucky to have a talented niece like you on the team to take pictures like this,” was the first thing he heard as he approached.

“Are you selling this? It would look great in the entrance of the rink.”

“The Chargers should pay you more.”

“Do you want to come work for The Titans? We’ll pay you more.”

Behind the Bench from Behind the Lens was typed neatly in bold and on the frame to the left of the group of photos that constituted as her series. The eye followed it naturally, from the locker room to the empty rink, to the pile of ice. The scoreboard. All of it flowing beautifully like it was a dance.

She thanked everyone for their compliments. She gave out her number, happy to sell her pictures. Each person barely noticed Harry’s presence as she networked and looked at her photos in awe. “Charlie couldn’t make it?” Mr. Howard asked.

“It was a spur of the moment decision,” Harry shrugged finally reminding the people he knew from work of his presence.

“Oh Harry, I forgot you were here,” he chuckled. “She’s talented, hmm?”

“Extremely,” Harry put his hand on her back again as he gushed proudly over her. Not that it was his job to do so or his right, but it wasn’t going to stop him from doing so. “Thank you for coming.”

“I’m not really an art gallery kind of man, but my wife happened to see the pictures you sent and said they were stunning,” he smiled. “You’ve got quite the eye, love.”

“Thank you,” she said, her voice full of gratitude.

As soon as Mr. Howard left, Harry caught the arm of a caterer. Before she could ask him more questions about how he got her work in the show. “Excuse me, Miss,” Harry asked the waitress carrying a tray around. “Would y‘mind taking a couple of pictures for us?”

“Of course!” The woman smiled taking Harry’s phone. “These photos are stunning. Did you do them?” She asked.

“She did,” Harry wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her toward him. “Smile, Rookie. I know y’don’t get in front of the camera much,” he smirked. The waitress was kind to take several shots of the pair of them. It felt nice to hold her like she was all hers. He enjoyed making her feel like she was a star because she was.

After several photos and more praise from onlookers, the gallery was finishing up. As everyone started to leave, other artists were taking their items off the wall. Harry stood beside her, gazing at her work as they had looked at everyone else’s. “Tell me, Rookie,” he whispered softly. “What are we looking at?”

She swallowed. “Um... You first.”

“I see love in a sport that’s violent.”

“Love is pretty violent sometimes,” she whispered back.

Harry turned to look at her as she gazed at her own photos. The awe on her face was priceless. Harry wished he had his own fancy camera to capture how perfect she looked. “Love isn’t violent, Bunny. Maybe the way it feels inside is violent. But love isn’t supposed to be violent.”

“You put pictures in an art gallery for me,” her eyes filled with tears. She put a hand to her chest. Her pretty elegant chest draped in a black fabric from a dress that Harry bought for her (on sale) so they could match and because he knew she would hate an expensive one.

“I think you’re incredible, Rookie. Should be earning millions for your talent,” he was certain he could watch her for the rest of time. “Look how talented you are,” he put a hand on her shoulder.

She turned into his chest, sniffling and crying into her hands against his shirt. “I’m sorry,” she croaked.

“Don’t cry,” he chuckled. “Aw, Bunny, this is a good thing!”

“Harry it’s so sweet,” she wiped her eyes. “So supportive. I never—” her voice cut off and she sucked her breath in shakily.

She didn’t need to finish the sentence. Harry knew what she meant. She never had the support Harry was offering. The frames had to have cost hundreds of dollars. The time to put them all up had to have taken up some of his precious time from hanging out with the guys along with who knew how many emails he sent to get the owners of hockey teams and media specialists out to this small showing.

Harry cupped the back of her head and leaned forward to press his lips to her ear. “Rookie, I believe in you. Always,” this was easily one of his favorite ways to hold her. Even though it only happened while she cried. And she had only cried on the plane where he got to hold her like this as well. She didn’t cry often, but his strong girl letting the tears flow every now and again made him feel happy she was willing to be vulnerable with him. “Did I do okay, Bunny?” He asked, she could hear the smile in his voice.

She nodded and smiled sadly. “Pucking perfect.”

--

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[mingtinys]

" you should rest "

pairing : choi seungcheol x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : language

word count : 0.5 k

a/n : super super excited to be doing this little mini-series starting off with seungcheol !!

You're rudely awoken from your slumber by the slamming of brakes and Seungcheol throwing curses at the car in front of him. Your seat belt stops your momentum, though you can't say the same about your poor suitcases and bags in the back seat that tumble forward with a violent thud.

"Fucking idiot," he mutters, then looks over to you with a complete change of expression. "Are you okay?" He's still got his arm extended over your chest like a mother.

"I'm okay, are you?"

"Yeah," he sighs, letting his arm drop from its protective position in favor of resting his hand on your inner thigh. He squeezes ever so lightly in an attempt to ground himself. "Asshole cut me off and then slammed his brakes. I'm sorry to wake you."

You hum, reaching out to brush back his bangs from his eyes. A fond smile lights up his features at the gesture. "S'okay. How much longer do we have left?"

"About an hour or so."

An hour!?

"Cheol!" You scold, shuffling to sit up in your seat. "You were supposed to wake me up an hour ago to switch off!"

If there was only an hour left that meant he'd been driving for nearly three already. You only meant to nap during his half of the drive to your parents' house then you would finish the rest so he could get some sleep. You even made him promise about three times over to wake you up, but it seems that went unheard.

He just shrugs and steals a glance at you, that signature pout playing at his lips. "I don't mind. Besides, you've seemed stressed lately, I figured you could use the extra rest."

Admittedly, the extra shut-eye was pretty nice. But still, you wish he would've woken you. "I appreciate it, but I'll feel guilty if you take the whole drive. Pull over and we'll switch off for the last bit."

Stubborn as always, Seungcheol shakes his head. "I'll take care of everything, you should rest." There's honestly no arguing with him over stuff like this. So you just sigh and grumble about conquering the trip back on your own to make up for it. Seungcheol just chuckles at your dissent. "You're too cute."

You curl up in your seat once more, turning so you can admire glare at your boyfriend who's a little too happy with himself. He notices, and the way his lips crack into a smile is irritatingly adorable. Seungcheol reaches his arm to the back, fishing out his coat that had been buried under your multitude of travel bags. Placing it over your legs, he steals another lingering glance.

"You're not forgiven yet, I'm still mad at you." It's probably the least threading sentence you've ever uttered in your life. Your voice sounds whiney, even to you, and that really makes Seungcheol laugh.

"I know, baby. Sweet dreams."

[bunny-jpeg]

sundays off

toto wolff

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/50s), power dynamic, poorly translated german, lap sex/cowgirl position, oral sex (toto receives), couch sex, unprotected sex

a/n: *makes vague gestures* i wrote this in a back corner of a train heading to see my beloved <3

nothing felt better than a sunday night with no racing. at least that was what you told yourself. the season seemed to stretch on and ended in heartbreak as this was the final races with lewis. while the wound of departure still stung. you were happy for toto to be home.

the place you shared in monaco with your beloved partner. he wasn't your husband yet, and he was far too old to be your boyfriend. so, you were partners. it made you seem like you were crime fighters. but you were certain most crime fighting duos weren't doing this on a sunday night.

"that's it, geliebten. take me as good as you do." his voice tinged with a certain want that made you toes curl as your nose dug into his pelvic area in an attempt to deep-throat him.

you were toto's beloved, underneath all the pet names and heavy touches, you were the center of toto's universe. it was to such a degree that he couldn't have you on the track too often. it was fine at monaco or austria. that made sense, but if you lingered on the track for too long toto couldn't focus. but that meant the was pent up by the end of the season.

and when toto came home, he wanted to make up for lost time. and that usually started with re-training your throat. between his legs, your mouth around his cock as you pleasured him. eyes fluttered shut as you took him as deep as you could. you could feel the pleasure thump in the back of your head as your spit clung to your chin.

toto held your hair in his hand and his other hand on his thigh as he leaned back into the couch. he admired how you look as the pleasure coursed through his body. the feeling was something else, he could feel the thump of his heart in his ears as your nose rubbed up against his trimmed pubic hair. he was impressed with himself after all the time he could still keep up with a young thing like you. he said in that low voice of his, his accent heavier with lust, "was für eine wunderschöne prinzessin." the words burned in your brain and soaked your core as you continued to orally pleasure him.

you'd get yours soon enough, toto wasn't the type of man was satisfied with one round. a man like him only reached the heights he did because of an insatiable greed.

you continued to orally pleasure him and the pleasure grew with a fire in his gut. he shifted a little on the couch and held onto your head a little tighter. his grip could be so hard it could bruise, but he'd never hurt you like that (unless you begged very nicely).

"a beauty." he said lowly, "i missed you every weekend. the photos and videos don't do your beauty justice, prinzessin. i did like the one with you on our bed, you in my shirts and trying so hard to get yourself off... but it's impossible without me, right?" he heard you moan in response at his question.

he guided your head a little faster and he could feel you choke a little bit at the feeling of his cock intruding further down your throat and it made something race through him. double header after triple header, race after race, he yearned for the softness of his lover. he wished you didn't blind his focus so much or else you'd be in his lap during the race. but it would be hard to direct the likes of russell or lewis with a hard-on.

your throat tightened around his cock as he gave the back of your throat a few more thrusts before he came inside of your mouth. he groaned under his breath was he let go of your head and relaxed against the couch. the white leather was a place of such debauchery when the older man got his hands on you.

you swallowed dutifully and took your mouth off of his still hard cock. you looked up at him with a needy look in your eyes. you needed your pleasure met too. it was hard to give head and not get so sexually wound up. and toto was more than happy to give his princess everything she so desired.

he stroked his hard cock lazily, it slick with your spit. heat in his cheeks and his dark eyes took in the sight of you before he said, "if you want it, geliebten. you're going to have to work for it. i work hard to give you everything you want, but this, you're going to have to actually work for." then smiled like a mad-man when you scrambled up on shaky legs and got into his lap. your wet cunt took him beautifully.

he tensed up for a moment and swallowed from the feeling on his already overstimulated cock. he placed both of his large hands on your hips and guided your down. his cock nudged against what felt like your womb and toto loved the feeling. your warm walls made him feel the sharp feeling of pleasure in his body. and then when you started to move up and down his cock.

"oh, geliebten." he purred, "i see you haven't forgotten the lessons i've taught you. how to please a man." you barley had given a blow-job by the time you met. toto spent a summer break making sure you understood how to drive a man wild.

"how could i forget, toto." your hands were across his clothed chest. he was still mostly clothed while you were naked. save for the anklet on your left leg with toto's name on it. you giggled, heat risen in your cheeks, "i think you fucked all my university knowledge to make room for what you taught me."

he chuckled lowly as his hands roamed your hips and a little more north, his eyes trained on the jiggle of your breasts, "well, a lover can be a good teacher. especially when the student is so eager to please." his voice was like honey in your brain and it made you only more needy for him. he kissed at your breasts and held the fat flesh in his hands and dragged his teeth and tongue across it.

you continued to move against him. you felt the excitement run through you. his sole attention on you made your body heated. there was a fire in your core that yearned for him. you wanted him, you needed him. you were his world and he expected nothing but loyalty.

"please, toto. fuck, it feels good. it left impossible to cum when i was home alone. nothing beats you." and then yelped when toto slapped you on the ass which only made you tighten around him.

"i know, prinzessin. i think i may have broken your brain with sex... my apologies. but, don't worry, i won't even make you go without." he chuckled lowly as he continued to meet your pace. he watched your body move with each heavy thrust and he felt the excitement in his bones. weeks apart, the rush of the race. despite it all, toto thought of you. he loved you. he adored you in ways that he could never put into proper words. how could he? if one met an angel, they couldn't simply put the experience into words. it was the same with you.

his voice was heavy as the words tumbled out, there was a slight ache in his hip from your movements and the position. but that could be dealt with after, you cunt was soaked for him. he even slipped out a few times, but with a little help you managed to sink yourself back down onto him. he let out a groan and you arched your back a little.

"you feel so good, geliebten." he said with a heated lust in his tone as he gripped onto you a little tighter. you felt good, your cunt was perfect around him. the fire only grew in his core as you continued to fuck him feverishly.

there was a pain in your hips as you rode him, but it was overwhelmed by the feeling of pleasure in your body which kept you moving against him. the thump of your heart could be felt in the back of your mind with a heat in your cheeks. you loved him, you loved him so deeply. you missed him, the weeks apart made it hard for you to deny yourself him. to let yourself fuck him with wild abandon. it was hot. you knew you wouldn't last much longer, not while you were riding him so well that it short circuited your brain.

your pants were heavy, your tone low as you said to him, "toto, please, honey. i'm close." the thump in your soul was a raging fire as you continued to move your hips against him. you felt the fire through your blood as you kept your pace. you fucked him through your climax, you tensed around him which only made him more turned on.

"cum for me, angel." he said lowly, "cum like you've been meaning to." then kissed at your jaw as you gave it a few more heavy thrusts before he finished inside of you. he tensed up as he held you close and let you work his body through his climax.

eventually you slowed to a stop and you slumped against him. you wrapped your arms and held onto the soft material of his t-shirt. you knew he could keep going, but you were spent. surprising that even at his age he could happily keep going like a real stallion. you held onto him and kissed him until your lips were raw. it felt amazing, good in a way that made you excited all over. it was heated, a sense of euphoria rushed through you.

"got your fill, geliebten?" he asked softly, "i see that you missed me."

"i always miss you, honey." you exhaled deeply, "missing you is like missing a part of my soul. i always need it."

he kissed the side of your head as he held you. maybe next season you could visit a little more. it would be good for the team, bring up the morale. toto just had to think of a way to keep himself from getting distracted, but he had an entire off season to come up with a plan <3

[dollfacefantasy]

kenny. omg. hear me out. being rick’s stress relief during the alexandria arc of s5 😵‍💫 like omg yeah he’s clean shaven now but can’t go two days w/o fighting w someone from alexandria, got restrained by michonne n everything… figures he needs smth else to keep the group in alexandria’s good graces and settles on smth along the lines of free use w you!! can’t be too shitty of a day if you get fucked into the mattress by the end of it ♡

hnghhh em omg i love you so bad. ur genius for this. i put a little backstory because i'm physically incapable of not being longwinded lol <3

rick grimes x fem!reader

rick needs a little stress relief with all the new responsiblities at alexandria

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, age gap (early 20s/late 30s)

You always thought stress was supposed to decrease someone’s sex drive, but now that you were getting fucked dumb every single night, you were sure that wasn’t true.

Rick had to be the most wound up person you’d ever known, constantly up in arms about something. Ever since he and his group arrived at your once peaceful community, there’d been nothing but conflict. At best it was petty drama, at worst guns were drawn and brains were about to be splattered all over the pavement.

The worst it got was that day you saw him in the middle of the street hunched over the doctor like a rabid dog. You’d stayed back, keeping your distance from him as he waved his gun around and rambled on about control. Crimson blood dripped from his hairline all over his face. You couldn’t tell whether it belonged to him or the incapacitated man beneath him.

You’d never seen anyone like him. Living in Alexandria since the start of the outbreak meant you were pretty sheltered. The people here rarely raised their voices let alone tackled each other through windows. He looked like the physical manifestation of what everyone warned you life outside the walls was like.

It was scary, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

Needless to say, you were pretty eager to offer yourself up to take the position watching him while the others decided what to do going forward.

You entered the room while he was still asleep. He was as peaceful as you’d ever seen him. Taking a seat in the chair beside the bed, you looked at him almost as if he was encased in glass, a specimen for your examination. His skin still had the scarlet tint of blood. His brown curls lie stuck between his temple and the ratty old pillow on the bed.

It startles you a bit when his eyes flutter open and connect with yours. Awkwardness sludges through your veins, but he looks you over like it’s nothing. You know you’re one of the least threatening people he’s come across in the new world. 

“You’re the one they got babysitting me, huh?” he rasps.

“I guess so,” you respond with more timidness than you would like.

His tongue slides out between his lips and licks the chapped skin while he continues to stare you down. It’s hard not to squirm in your seat, to shift your thighs against one another and make your desire known. Before you have a chance to think through your course of action though, he speaks again.

“Are you nervous?” he asks, his tone not looking to provoke a reaction but simultaneously wanting you to recognize your inferiority.

You shrug. He wasn’t gonna get the satisfaction. Not yet anyways.

“Are you scared of me?” he continues.

“No,” you answer.

“Good,” is all he says in response.

That was the last thing he said to you that day, but you could still hear the simple syllable in your mind. He might have been done talking to you. You weren’t through with him though. Under the guise of being assigned to watch him, you continued to linger around him as he went about his tasks in the community.

You tended to follow him around like a puppy. You were curious about him, watching him with inquisitive eyes, peeking over his shoulder as he cleaned his gun or tuned his transceiver. Your gazes were adoring too. It was obvious that you admired the way he could take control of a room with his words, how his people looked to him with reverence when he spoke.

He intoxicated you. In a world lacking things to do, observing Rick became a hobby for you.

He noticed of course, but he couldn’t say he minded. At least someone in this fucking place had an interest in survival and saw the value in listening to him. Plus, it didn’t hurt that you were pretty cute. He didn’t mind your company, didn’t mind teaching you things here and there. In his eyes, you were the least annoying out of all the new people here.

You both were on watch when you got a little promotion from least annoying. The two of you were sitting on the platform attached to the wall. It was night. Neither of you could sleep. Instead of telling you bits and pieces of the nightmares that kept sleep from him, he decided to teach you how to put a scope on a rifle. Nodding along to each thing he says, you watch his fingers and take note of every little thing he does. He gives you a few tries with it, but you’re still struggling to get the thing attached.

That’s when he looks at you, his expression unchanging, and pats his lap.

“C’mere.”

It’s out of your control really. You don’t even have a second to think about it before your legs have pushed you across the platform to the spot he beckoned you. With your back against his chest, his arms encase you and come around front to show you up close how to fasten the scope. When he’s done, he detaches it and makes you try.

His hands slide down your arms, lingering on the skin for longer than needed. They trail down to your sides then your hips. You bite your lip and try to focus on the task he wants you to perform rather than his touch. But then he leans forward to watch your hands work. His chin hovers above your shoulder. You can hear his breaths next to your ear. Once you’ve got it, you can essentially picture his subtle smirk in your mind.

“Good girl,” he croons teasingly.

You turn your head slightly, looking at him with your wide, innocent eyes. He chuckles and reaches up to stroke your cheek. Neither of you know what you’re really doing but one thing leads to another and you’re kissing. Then he’s got his hand up your shirt, groping your tits. It all comes to head and ends up with you straddling him, sinking down on his cock and burying your head in his shoulder.

Biting the fabric of his t-shirt to keep quiet, you begin to rise and fall. It felt so good as if it was what your body had been aching for. You felt the most alive you ever had in this shitty new world, and if the way he was gripping your hips and returning your thrusts were any indication, Rick felt the same way.

You both grunt and moan quietly as your bodies rut together with a primal desire for satisfaction. His lips glide over your collarbone and up your neck to the spot behind your ear. You let out a sharp whine which causes him to grin.

“Need you to be quiet, sweetheart,” he chides, “Don’t want to wake any of the others, do you?”

You’re quick to shake your head and cover your mouth with your palm, but you don’t stop bouncing. You needed him deep, rearranging your insides to a perfect mold for him.

“Then again,” he breathes, “They could stand to learn a thing or two from you. So obedient, eager to please…”

His words trail off as he helps you ride him. You’re so tight and warm, and for the first time since he set foot through those walls, his mind feels clear. He doesn’t hear the constant jabbering for his attention. His head doesn’t throb with the sensation of being pulled in five different directions. It’s like each thrust into your heat clears away a worry. By the time he cums, he feels drained of all his stress.

He needed more of that feeling. He couldn’t get enough of it. It was the start of a routine for the two of you. Everyday at least once, you were getting fucked till you were a drooling, dazed mess. And sometimes it was more than once. Sometimes he had you on your knees in the armory in the afternoon or pulled you into a storage closet on a morning supply run.

He had fifteen years on you, but most of the time he was the one leaving you exhausted.

And today had been a particularly bad day for Rick. Everything that could go wrong did. Alexandria was running low on a collection of different things, walkers were gathering at the East wall, one of the gate’s locks was rusting, a sprinkler broke, and on top of everything, he had to deal with everyone’s constant bitching.

The only thing that kept him from losing his shit was the thought of you laid in his bed at night waiting for him, batting your long eyelashes over those pretty doe eyes as you sat there in nothing but his t-shirt and a pair of panties. The end of the day couldn’t come soon enough.

He grits his teeth and dashes all across the community to try and get everything solved by sundown. The workload keeps him busy which fortunately makes the time go by faster. He also tries his best to keep his cool with people. There was no use starting petty conflicts when he had something much nicer to screw with now.

As soon as everyone’s headed off to bed and all the perimeters have been checked, he can’t get home fast enough. He’s quiet coming in. He didn’t wanna wake anyone. If someone got in his way now, he’d flip his lid worse than any of them had ever seen.

He’s up the stairs in seconds, taking them two at a time. Whisking the bedroom door open, a deep sigh seeps from his lungs as he sees his daydreams become realities of the night. Your pretty legs are on display for him as you lounge in the bed reading a book. He crosses the room and grabs you by the ankle to pull you closer to the edge of the bed. You already know what time it is and feel a dull tingle in the pit of your belly.

“Stressful day?” you ask as you finish the page you were on.

“Is the sky still blue?” he grumbles as he presses a kiss to your calf then another further up against your knee.

You smile at the quip, placing the book on the nightstand just in time as he flips you over onto your stomach. He climbs on top of you, squeezing your waist and nuzzling his face against your neck.

“Those people don’t even know how much they should be thanking you, baby,” he mumbles, “They don’t even know how many times a day you save their asses.”

You squirm a little beneath him as his fingers hook around your panties and tug them down. The sound of his zipper follows and it’s no time before you feel the weight of his dick against you.

“Needed you so bad all day,” he says.

“I needed you too,” you whimper as you feel slick gathering between your thighs.

He nips at your earlobe and rubs his hands up under his shirt you have on to tease the sides of your breasts.

“S’cute, honey,” he whispers, “Thinking about me while you did your little chores, hm?”

“Yeah,” you whine as he starts to line himself up and slot himself in the correct position.

It was such a familiar feeling, but each time it still made a chill run through you. Your insides ached with the pleasure that came from being filled up by him.

“Perfect girl. That’s just the way it should be,” he mutters.

He wastes no time before he starts thrusting. It only takes a couple before he starts groaning too. On nights like these, he was in no mood to take his time or savor the moment.

“So tight for me, Christ,” he chokes out, “There’s nothing like you.”

You moan softly too, putting your head down to muffle your sounds with the blanket. His hand rests around your neck for leverage as he fucks into you faster.

“That’s right, pretty baby. You’re so good for me. Givin’ me what I need. You’re the only one who can,” he grunts.

He snaps his hips harder, trying to find the limit of how hard he could go without being too loud or smacking the headboard into the wall. You claw at the ratty blankets on the bed as your toes curl. Your head turns to the side a little to peek up at him, and his eyes roll back.

“Everyone’s always fucking looking to me for something. No one can look at me like you can though. Those gorgeous eyes, all glossy for me. Not a thought behind ‘em right now,” he pants.

You nod weakly while digging your teeth into your lip again. It was getting harder to suppress the noises with the blanket alone.

“Rick…” you whimper, “Oh fuck, Rick.”

You gasp as he starts hitting the perfect spot. His stiff cock slips effortlessly in and out of you over and over and brushes that nook each time.

“Mhm. You’re the only one I wanna hear calling my name. Everyone here’s always whining for me, bitching for something. Not my girl though. The only time I hear you whining is when I’m balls deep, fucking you like you deserve,” he whispers.

You nod against the mattress. Your body rocks with the momentum of each thrust. Every stroke was working you closer to the edge, and Rick could feel his own impending as well.

Both his hands slide down to your hips to grip them hard. He keeps grinding and rolling his hips into you.

“Give it to me, princess. Lemme feel it. Gotta get my fix,” he says just as you start to tense up and jerk around below him.

You cum with a high moan into the plush fabric beneath you. Your body trembles and twitches as it handles the rush of euphoria. He keeps fucking you through it. His own noises start getting needier, closer to whimpers than groans. He grunts for a second as he finally feels release. He pulls out quickly and lets it spurt all over your ass. He’d so much rather do it inside, but he really didn’t need something else to worry about nine months from now.

With his release, the both of you are able to settle down for the night. He rolls off of you and quickly gets you cleaned up, so he can crawl into bed and hold you against his chest. The second most soothing thing to your pussy was the warmth of your body against him.

“So good for me, sweetheart. Always make things so good for me,” he sighs and lazily kisses your head, ready to drift off with the comfort of knowing this little scene would repeat itself tomorrow.

[daenysx]

I absolutely love your time stamp works, could I request one?

11:11 pm with remus lupin... a soft cozy night slowly turns passionate as they cuddle in bed together?

-🪻

11.11 PM | REMUS LUPIN

"dove-" remus murmurs in between kisses. "taking my breath away-"

he's the sweetest thing with pink lips and half closed eyes. he looks like he's drunk on love, can't even keep his hands to himself. the blanket slips from your shoulder, leaves you bare in your tank top.

"it's so hot in here, do you think i should take this off?" you ask him with slightly curled lips. remus can feel his stomach tighten.

"you know you're a little minx, don't you?" he kitten licks the skin under your ear. "do you need help with it?"

"i can do it myself." you say, moving your hands quickly to free yourself from the fabric.

remus has long fingers, he knows how to use them when he wants to drive you crazy. he'd usually be more insistent, but it feels like the mood in the air is different tonight. he's tired and you're no better, you'd be fast asleep in bed if you couldn't feel the desire pooling between your legs.

"kiss me." you whisper, his lips are soft like silk.

remus moves his wrist to rub your hipbone fondly. he kisses you the way you want, you close your eyes and let yourself be mindless as you lean to him. your brain already feels like a mush, it's all remus now, and his scent. his kisses and lingering touches. you sigh in contentment.

his hands are on your skin, they feel like they belong there. you place yourself on remus's thigh, squeeze your legs and press yourself subtly on him. "remus-"

"come here." he pulls you to his lap properly. "using my thigh is not gonna help you, sweetheart, i can take care of you better."

"it's too much." you whine softly when a wave of pleasure hits you. "i feel like it'll be over so soon."

"it won't." remus assures you. his voice is promising, possibly the hottest tone of him that you've ever heard. "i'll help you take your time."

it all feels like softened liquid, seconds stretch, remus plays with you. he's undeniably hard under you, his fingers rubbing your swollen nub with determined fingers. you tilt your head back. his lips suck tiny circles on your chest.

you pull his sweatpants to reach him. he obeys, free of every restriction. he looks beautiful, so pretty like this for you. you touch him, your breath catches on your throat.

"i don't want this to end." you whisper, leaning close to his face. he rubs his hand all over your back, makes you shiver. "do you want to stay in me for a bit?"

he smiles. he looks at you like you're the most precious being, something to be admired. lifting his hips suddenly, he pulls you down. you clench, it's a good fit. remus hugs you to his chest.

"i can stay in you forever, i guess." he jokes, kissing the soft flesh of your neck.

"oh my god, remus." you roll your eyes back, half in pleasure and half in disbelief.

"you don't even know how safe you make me feel." he confesses silently. "fuck- baby, you need to-"

"i know." you sound sorry for clenching involuntarily around him. "i just can't stay still when you're saying things like that."

remus fixes your hair to give you a kiss on the side of your head. it's nice to stay like this. a deeper connection forms between you, you think.

"i'm gonna keep my thoughts to myself then." he says. "until i fuck you properly at least. i can't have you finishing me so quick just because you get turned on by my words."

"so rude." you say, loving how good he is at teasing. just your type of man. "i'm gonna fall asleep and you'll never get what you want."

"i already got what i want, silly girl." he presses you to his chest. "this is perfect."

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ꕥ FRANCO COLAPINTO

summary. a quick pitstop before your brother’s big wedding turns into stolen glances with the new rookie

warnings. my second attempt at an smau with a bit of dialogue! duplantis!reader

gabri speaks. i saw mondo was at the grind prix this weekend and got to work.

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mondo_duplantis quick pitstop before wedding planning 🏎️

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username Y/N AND DESIRÉ!!!!

username hoping y/n will be a bridesmaid for the wedding of the century!

username my two hyper fixations are colliding i am not okay.

gabbythomas they look gorgeous and then mondo’s there

mondo_duplantis and suddenly your wedding invitation got lost in the mail…

yourusername desiré said you’re our new bestie. we love you gabby! 💋

desireinglander best weekend ever with the best company 🤍

mondo_duplantis couldn’t ask for a better person to spend it with 🤍

yourusername haha guys… i’m still here

yourusername ty big bro 🤍

THE BLAZING HOT sun of Austin had you and Desiré finding shade in the Williams garage. The two of you had gone to the bathroom only to get lost on your way back to your brother. Too tired to find your way back you’d sent your location to come find you. Desiré didn’t take long to start a conversation with the people inside the garage.

“Your boyfriend was the one in the olympics with the pole vault? He was sick!” A brunette with a thick accent tells your future sister-in-law.

“Fiancé” You correct.

“Oh! Congratulations!” He yells excitedly bringing a smile out of both of you.

Your brother doesn’t take longer than ten minutes to find the two of you but in that short time you’ve become intrigued with the brunette. You learn he’s from Argentina, that it’s also his first time in Austin, and that he says everything that comes to mind. You also managed to steal a couple of glances here and there admiring the curls on the top of his head. Mondo thanks him for keeping the two of you company.

“Oh, um some of the drivers are hanging out later at a bar. You guys should come?” Franco asks.

“Oh, yes! We’ll be there!” Desiré yells before your brother can say anything.

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f1fan you can literally see franco in the back…

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yourusername i would die for you.

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[comment deleted]

THE LOUD REVING of the cars filled the air as you walked around the paddock. Your paddock pass clinked with each step you took. Eventually you found the blue and white garage without getting lost this time. It was chaotic to say the least. Engineers yelling, managers shouting in every direction, and the drivers were pacing around. That is until Franco spotted you from across the garage and offered you the same smile he did when he met you yesterday.

“Got lost again?” He smiles cheekily at you.

“Your team actually invited me today.” You confess.

The both of you covered your eyes as the sunlight opaqued your eyes. His cheeks changed a light hue of red as he explained to you how qualifying worked and how grateful he was to even be here. You can’t help the smile that takes over your face as he tells you about the call he received a couple of months ago telling him he would be an F1 Driver. The two of you converse freely for a while before you notice the camera man pointing in your direction.

“Do they always just record you like that. It’s creepy.” You turn away from the camera as you speak.

“Yes.” He laughs. “But you get used to it.”

The two of you pause your conversation hoping the camera man moves on to the next garage but he stays. This type of situation always happens to your brother but not you. Franco seems to notice the shift in your behavior. He leans down next to you continuing your conversation.

“Are you free later?” He covers his mouth with his hand as he talks into your ear.

“Maybe, why?” You eye him up and down catching a glimpse of his smile.

“I found this restaurant and wanted to go check it out. Would be nice if I didn’t have to go by myself.” Your cheeks heat up at his invitation.

“Franco stop flirting! You need to get in the car!”

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yourusername @williamsracing thank you for the hospitality on and off the track 💙

username is that… 👀

f1fan that’s definitely his cup 🙂‍↕️

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mondo_duplantis you’re all grown up sis

desireinglander guessing lunch went well? 🤭

desireinglander looking stunnin’ as always 🤍

yourusername check imessages rn.

williamsracing the better duplantis sibling 💙

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francolapinto replied to your story: we’re in this together.

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username ME QUITARON AL PIBE 💔

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francolapinto i’m the luckiest guy in the world. te quiero 💙

[freaksun]

eddie doesnt let anyone touch his hair. ever.

it reminds him of his late mother, who had the same gorgeous untamed curls. She used to comb his hair when he was little, being ever so gentle and taking her time brushing out the knots.

his father made him feel less-than for just about everything about him, including his gorgeous mane. Called him awful names and always told him to ‘cut that fairy shit’ when it grew too long.

so, ever since she passed, and his father went to jail, hes been growing it.

unfortunately, she never taught him how to take care of it, she’d always just do it herself. So, he doesnt put product in it, he doesnt cut it, he doesnt even brush it. And, stubborn as his mama, he doesnt let anyone else touch it either.

then you come along, happy and sweet, always loving to everyone. he falls in love with you so fast he hardly even notices. you certainly dont either.

one hot summer day you’re both in his room, you on his bed, him pacing, frantically explaining some sort of nerdy campaign idea. you dont know, you havent been listening for a while, too distracted by the way he keeps wiping sweat from the back of his neck. you cut him off rudely, he doesnt mind

“hey eddie?”

“sweetheart?”

“whens the last time you got a haircut?”

he freezes, silent, which is very out of character, dude never shuts up.

“uhh. like a few years ago. why?”

its your turn to be quiet, suddenly all coy. he finds you absolutely adorable as you stare at his floor, trying to find a way to ask him without startling him. as if he were some wild animal, which, he basically is.

“just.. immm noticinggg its kinda matted in the back…”

you try to sound the least accusing as you can. he doesnt seem offended but you can tell hes thinking.

“well, yeah, i. i guess i just havent touched it since. well my mom used to do it for me”

you feel like an ass, touching on something you shouldnt have, making him all quiet and sad. you backtrack.

“jesus, eddie, im sorry i didnt mean to-“

“its okay angel, i know”

he sits next to you. you give him a nervous smile, still sweet, hesitantly reaching for his curls. you can tell he’s hesitant too, but he nods, granting you permission. you take a single strand between your fingers, twirling it.

“Its so pretty, eds. ..would you let me? take care of it, i mean?”

hes scared. but youre so sweet and youre asking so nicely. a part of him is scared if he lets you, he loses another part of his mom. but the other part is staring into your eyes and seeing nothing but genuine affection.

“i.. i guess you could.. try.”

his heart pounds in his chest. You absolutely beam, thanking him immediately and bouncing around the room, looking for a brush. he laughs, shaking his head. you watch as he rummages through his closet, before handing you a light pink brush. you think about teasing him for it but he already looks vulnerable. you smile sweetly instead, taking it from him.

“sit” you point with the brush. he does as you say, running his hands up and down his thighs in a self soothing motion.

“its okay eds, you dont have to be nervous.. ill be gentle i promise” he gives you an unconvincing smile. you return with a guilty one, downturned. you kneel in front of him, in between his knees, brushing his bangs with your fingers.

“we can stop whenever you want, okay?” his cheeks are bright red as he nods timidly

you move to sit behind him, and run your hands through his curls gently, admiring it. you take a part, hold it at the root, and brush gently.

“that feel okay? tell me if it hurts” ever so sweet.

“mm-hm” you can feel his nervousness. “you- you remind me of her, y’know”

youre pretty taken aback, but honoured nonetheless. you keep brushing through the mattes in his hair as you talk.

“Yeah? Wanna tell be about her?” youre not sure if its the right thing to say, but you figure he probably hasnt talked about her in a long time. you can practically feel his energy shift.

“she was sweet. loving and kind to everyone, like you.” you both smile. “and she was pretty. beautiful. i really miss her.” you stop, rub his back a little.

“i can only imagine.. im sorry eddie.” he turns to face you, smiling.

“s’alright sweetheart. thanks for letting me talk about her” he hugs you. you hug him back, tight.

“hows the ole hair going?” He asks when he pulls back, a joking tone to lighten the mood.

“good!!! ive gotten the mattes outta this chunk here, it looks good. your hair is really beautiful, eds” youre ecstatic and it travels to him.

“thank you. my mom had the same hair.” he smiles, turning back around to let you continue.

“i bet she was really gorgeous.” youre extra-extra gentle. He keeps talking and you keep working. He tells you about how she smelled, the softness of her voice, his favourite memories with her. he tells you about the last time he saw her. he tells you all the things hes been holding inside, everything he never got to tell anyone, never trusted anyone enough. and when hes done, his hair is untangled and soft.

you smile proudly, running your hands through his hair, marveling at your work.

“its done” he whips around, looking at you with wide excited eyes

“really??” you nod, smiling wide. he runs over to the bathroom to see for himself. You stand behind him, peeking over his shoulder in the mirror. Hes surprised, looks like he might even cry. you wrap your arms around him, leaning your head against his arm.

“do you like it? Its a little poofy, but you can wash it out and it’ll look be-“ he cuts you off by turning around and hugging you. he hugs you tight, lifting you up.

“thank you.” you can tell he really means it.

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Not My Type

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2,329 Masterlist Part 2

Summary: Bucky is dumb.

Warnings: Fatphobia.

A/N: something short, sweet and simple because I’m starting to feel guilty about not posting 😭

Steve watched, as his friend searched around the club with his eyes. He could assume Bucky was just waiting on the rest of their coworkers to get there, but he knew better. “She’ll get here soon enough, relax.”. Steve leans his back against the booth and takes a long drink of his beer. “Who?” Bucky asks, unconvincingly.

“Y/N.” He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Bucky scrunches up his face “As if, man.” He ignores the look of disbelief Steve gives him. “Why deny it? I’ve caught you staring her down more times than I can count.”. Steve stands up and waves to signal Natasha to where they sat. “There’s nothing to deny, she’s not my type, leave it there so no one’s feelings get hurt, okay?” Bucky puts the bottle to his lips to shush himself when he sees you approach the booth.

“You guys look.” Steve’s speechless as he takes in the silk nighties the girls adorned. They all wore semi matching babydoll dresses. Color coded fishnets and heeled slippers adorned their long legs. Their hair was high and teased, makeup adding to the sultry bedtime look they were going for.

“You’re gonna catch flies.” Wanda remarks, leaving to find Vision having the time of his life with the DJ. Steve’s reaction to their costumes did nothing to calm your nerves. You went with the housewife costume too. Just a different approach entirely. Your hair sat in victory rolls atop your head, a thick stack of curls laying on your shoulders, a knee length dress with three quartered sleeves covered you. You’re painted your eyebrows on thinly, just to over line your lips, filling them in with your favorite red Mac lipstick. You were the most modest in your costume, but the most accurate.

You couldn’t wear a see through nightgown to the club. You would die of embarrassment, your rolls would be everywhere. At least in this thick cotton dress, no one could see the layers of shape wear you wore. You slid into the booth and sat beside Steve, getting sandwiched in when Sam finally arrives, late with no costume. “What took you so long, huh khakis?” You tease him, feeling nothing but comfort in his presence.

“You ever had to tell a 10 year old his idea isn’t good enough.” He laughs, “, You should go as yourself Unc!” He recalls the boys words over the phone. “Oh, of course, looks like a superhero to me!” You giggle, loving the thought of his nephews building up his self esteem. He was new to the team, no super strength or speed. Just courage, you admired Sam.

You finally take the chance to look around the booth. Steve wore his vintage Captain America suit, claiming it still fits like a glove. Bucky didn’t wear a costume, just his regular black t-shirt and leather jacket, no effort, even for Halloween. It helped Sam not look so out of place, so you just rolled your eyes at him. He tried way to hard to act like he didn’t care about anything, or anyone. You hate people like that, too self absorbed to carry on a conversation with someone who doesn’t benefit them.

You had been on the wrong side of his attitude before. Bumbling up to him after your first meeting. Stretching out your hand for a shake, he barely touched your hand as he shook your fingers, nodding at you with a curt “Welcome.” You didn’t think much of it till he sat beside Yelena, who got recruited the same day as you, and sparked up a lively conversation with her, telling her if she needs anything at the compound to come ask him. That was the first time Bucky hurt your feelings, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Y/N!” Someone yells at you from the dance floor. It’s Yelena dancing alone, “You promised me a dance.” She says, holding her arms out for you. You nudge Sam on the shoulder and do the most embarrassing scoot out of the booth you could imagine. Your dress rode up in the time you’d been sitting there, causing your thighs to stick to the old leather. Your face grimaces and you peel your skin away, hoping no one noticed.

“I’m on the dance floor, as promised.” You say, holding her hands while she dances on you. “You’re gonna need to do more than stand there if you want him to notice you.” She remarks, not skipping a beat. Yelena knew you too well, she knew you picked the 40s for a reason, not going with their free spirit 60s slumber get up.

Giving her a wide eyed look, as if he heard over the thumping music. “We both know I have no rhythm, stop that.” You giggle when she presses her back against you and slides down into a squat. She goes behind you and grabs your hips, forcing you against her chest. She grinds you into her pelvis, using her hands to guide your hips in sync with hers. You never moved that way before, and the sensuality of it had your heart racing. Yelena could be anyone, tightly holding on to you, you closed your eyes and threw your head back on her shoulder, just to imagine it was him for a moment.

You feel Yelena’s lips tickle your ear and she’s whispering “Look who can’t take their eyes off of you.” You tilt your head down and open your eyes to lock them with Bucky’s. He looks angry, like you pissed in his cheerios. You turn your body around to face Yelena, “I think he’s upset I’m blocking his view from you.”. That causes her to laugh out loud, grabbing your shoulders to shake you. “You’re mad woman! Look at what’s right in front of you.”. You laugh and look behind you to see Bucky staring down his beer now, instead of you.

“Yelena, I don’t know how to put this, he probably doesn’t even go for girls like me, skinny blonde seems more his type. You, you seem more his type.” You plead with her. She just shakes her head, “He doesn’t like me, I promise, Y/N.” You nod your head, trusting the closest friend you had.

•••••••

You make your way to the bar, grabbing a drink to cool yourself off. You’re walking back to the booth to get off your feet when you overhear Steve and Bucky’s conversation.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“You look like a helpless puppy, just make your move.”

“As if I’d need to, she’s probably never had male attention, that’s too easy.”

“Just admit that you’re afraid of rejection.”

“From her? Never in a million years would fatty have a chance. Like I said she’s obviously not my type.”. Bucky instantly regretted the words as they came out of his mouth, he didn’t mean it. But Steve wouldn’t stop accusing him of having a crush on you.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you push them down. You knew better, Yelena didn’t, you shouldn’t have let her give you false hope. You choke down your pride and turn the corner, sliding into the booth as if nothing happened. “I think this is my last drink guys, I’m getting tired, and winter training starts tomorrow.”.

An echo of ‘boos’ and a “noooo why.” Almost tempt you to stay. But you know you’re not wanted here, by the one person that mattered. Steve catches your attention, “Are you sure? The nights still young.” He wiggles his brows. You give him a tight lipped smile, knowing he tried to get Bucky to make a move.

“Yeah, there’s really not much for me here. I came for Natasha.” He nods, giving Bucky a death glare. You finish your drink and when you stand up the previous shots you had with Wanda hit you. You quickly sit back down, grabbing the table for stability. “Are you alright?” Steve rests his hand on your lower back, scooting closer to you.

You shake your head, not being able to form words. You think you’d faint if you didn’t focus on breathing. “Let me help you home.” He can see the unsure expression on your face. “Wouldn’t be respecting the suit if I didn’t make sure you got home safe.”. With that he convinced you.

When the cold October air hits your face, it sobers you a little bit, taking away the dizzy feeling, leaving you with a thumping head. Steve takes a few minutes to join you outside, you left him in a heated whisper match with Bucky.

You’re leaned against the side of the building when he finds you. “Ready to go?” He offers you his arm but you shake your head. “No need to be such a gentleman, it’s just me.” You say, knowing he’s doing it just to be nice.

Steve cocks his head to the side. “Why shouldn’t I be a gentleman towards you?” He asks. You press your pounding head against the brick wall, closing your eyes to think of the right words. “The only reason a guy needs to be a gentleman is for good impressions. I highly doubt you feel a need to impress me.”.

He scoffs at you, “What gives you the impression that you’re not worth impressing?”. Even though you were tipsy, Bucky’s words seared your frontal lobe. You suddenly are at a loss for words. How do you tell him you were eavesdropping on their conversation.

“I just don’t get much male attention I guess.” You let him in, his eyes widen in realization that you heard Bucky’s harsh words. “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He says, stepping closer to you. You roll your eyes at him.

“No, he knew exactly what he was talking about. Fatty is no one’s type. No one looks at me and thinks “woah, the most beautiful woman in the world just walked in the room”.” You push yourself off the wall. “I understand that you wouldn’t get that, since you’re so perfect Steve. Women lay down at your feet, your options are endless. But not for someone like me.”.

Steve’s face had turned into a stone. His jaw clenched tightly. He let you vent out your frustrations. “The way you looked at the girls, the way half the club looked at the girls, I’ll never have that.”. You look at your feet and notice him take a step closer to you. You look up to see your faces not too far apart.

“I was looking at you too.” He reaches out, letting his hands hover over your waist. He rests them on your hips when your don’t push him away. “I don’t care what he said, he’s just insecure, he can’t admit that he thinks you’re hot.” You scoff at him this time.

“Steve whatever you’re doing, I get the whole nice guy thing. But just stop.” You say, pressing your hand against his chest. The thin polyester did nothing to conceal his smooth muscles. You feel him squeeze your sides tighter, his thumbs pressing into your belly. “He doesn’t speak for me.”.

You look into his dark eyes. “What are you saying?”. You’d never even humored yourself by considering Steve. You now had to rethink every encounter you ever had with him. “Forget him, let me show you how a real man appreciates a woman.”

He slides his hands down, letting them grasp as much of your ass that could fit in them. You gasp, he wasn’t afraid of your body, he knows what it has to offer. Judging by the way he gripped on to your ass like his life depended on it, he liked it.

“What if someone sees?” You say, pushing his hands off of you. He replaces them “I’m not afraid, why are you?” He leans down, connecting your lips, you’re frozen for a moment. How do you kiss him back? Before you could find out you feel a hand on your shoulder, ripping you away from Steve.

“What are you doing?” Bucky is talking to his friend, ignoring your existence. “Excuse me, we were in the middle of something.” Steve steps between you and Bucky. “You shouldn’t be out here hooking up with a random coworker.” Bucky says, trying to convince himself.

“Y/N isn’t a random coworker, Jesus Bucky, what’s your problem?” Steve asks, letting his anger show. He knew what he was doing, if Bucky wouldn’t admit it on his own, jealousy would work just fine. Bucky balls up his fists at his side “You know what my problem is.”.

You’re staring at Steve’s back, you don’t know what Bucky’s talking about. Is he so repulsed by a plus size woman, he doesn’t even want his friend with one? You were done, you’d never done anything to Bucky besides exist. He had an imaginary problem with you.

You stepped around Steve, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You don’t know where the boost of confidence came from, probably Steve’s lips and hand placement. You look Bucky up and down, truly taking him in.

He was perfect, and he knew it. It was starting to disgust you. “Just because ‘fattys’ like me have no chance with you, doesn’t mean that I’m not worthy of another man being attracted to me.” You take a step back, pressing yourself against Steve. Just to show Bucky, you meant business.

Basing it off of the hard indentation on the front of Steve’s spandex, he liked watching you tell Bucky off. You turn your body around to face him, throwing a look over your shoulder at Bucky, “Take me home Stevie.” You sing song in his ear.

A smirk falls on his lips, “Let’s do that princess.” He says while leading you out of the alley. Bucky is stuck in place, having an internal war with himself, that you weren’t gonna stick around for.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hey :) Hope you're doing well, I read some of your Aemond fanfics, and they were great. I was hoping you could write a Jacaerys x Alicent daughter fanfic. Something about an arranged marriage, you can take it anyway you wish, but could there be some angst in there. with the prompts 1. ‘’My blood is not noble enough for a prince.’’ and 14. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’

Thank you :)

Request: Alicent’s second daughter to marry Jacaerys to unite the houses

Thank you for the compliment on my Aemond fics <3 More will be coming soon. Also, I was not able to use the first prompt as it doesn’t work with the characters. Alicent’s daughter’s blood is more noble than Jacaerys since her father is king and his mother is princess. I hope you still enjoy what I wrote for you <3

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Twenty years ago, when Viserys made Rhaenyra his heir, the knights and houses who swore allegiance to him had no choice but to accept her as their future queen. She was the king’s only child. But now that the king had a male heir — and a spare —, there were possibilities that people would oppose her claim to the throne and demand Aegon to wear the crown. 

To prevent the situation from happening, the king and queen, along with Rhaenyra, made an accord that Rhaenyra would ascend the throne following the king’s death, but to unite the houses, the princess’s firstborn son — and heir — would marry Alicent’s second daughter and, one day, inherit the throne together. 

Like any political marriage, you nor Jacaerys had a choice or say. At least he wasn’t an older lord you had met once or twice. You knew Jacaerys — a little. He was kind, loyal and protective. He was a good man. 

Prior to that arrangement, your grandsire, Otto, had been talking to you about having a tourney to meet suitors, but your mother had been quick to oppose to the idea. She didn't want you to be the victim of his scheming like she had been at your age. 

You were drawing under the weirwood tree when Jacaerys stepped into the yard, having just arrived in King’s Landing. Its red leaves matched the color of your dress, making him smile. He liked you in red. 

‘’I was told by the servants that my wife was out here.’’ 

Immersed in your drawing, you didn’t hear the prince approaching. You only glanced up when you heard your new title, the sound of his voice almost making you drop your charcoal onto your dress. Your mother would have been furious.

A soft laugh left your lips. Moons have passed since the wedding, yet being called a wife still felt strange. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’

‘’Me either,’’ Jacaerys admitted. ‘’What are you drawing, Princess?’’ 

You reflected his smile as he approached. ‘’Just some birds.’’

Jacaerys walked up to the tree and sat beside you. He had a bit of dirt on his jacket from sparring with Ser Criston in the training yard. 

‘’How was your training session with Ser Criston?’’ you asked, raising a hand to run through the front of his hair, fixing an unruly curl that was on the wrong side. 

The older he got, the more he looked like Ser Harwin Strong. He had the same dark brown curls. But you would never dare saying that out loud. Although you meant it as a compliment, the mere insinuation of his illegitimacy was a vile insult to the crown — to the princess. 

‘’I disarmed him twice…and I ate some dirt.’’ The brunet grimaced, the earthy taste still lingering on his tongue. ‘’It was a blessing that no one was watching.’’  

‘’Mayhaps you need an opponent that is closest to your age?’’ you suggested, not finding it fair that he was sparring against a grown man who had years of practice as a knight. ‘’You could ask Aemond to train with you? He is training for the upcoming tourney, but I’m sure he would a accept to help you.’’

Jacaerys hummed, then leaned back against the weirwood tree, taking a moment of rest. He watched with quiet admiration as you continued your drawing, fascinated by the way you could, with a few strokes of charcoal, illustrate pretty much anything. Birds, flowers, dragons, or portraits of your family. 

Much like your twin brother, you favored solitude over socializing. When the betrothal was announced to you, you assumed that this tranquility would be disrupted, but it turned out that Jacaerys enjoyed it too. Partially. While he often thrived on the excitement and duty that came with his heir title, he found it relieving that he could find peace and comfort in your silent company. 

‘’I’m going back to Dragonstone in the morrow,’’ the prince announced, breaking the serenity of the quiet.

‘’How long for?’’

Jacaerys shifted, fearing the conversation that was to come. ‘’No. I’m going back to Dragonstone…permanently.’’

You stopped drawing, a sudden knot forming in your stomach. ‘’And what of me?’’ 

‘’You can join. Or not. That is up to you.’’ 

‘’And what of us? What of our marriage, Jace?’’ you asked, turning your head toward him. 

When you got wed in the tradition of Old Valyria, you pledged to one another that you were one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Jacaerys returning to Dragonstone would break your duties to your House. 

‘’Dragonstone is easy to travel from and back on dragonback.’’ You began picking at your fingers, and Jacaerys noticed, taking your hand in his to stop you. ‘’I tried, but King’s Landing is not my home. I don’t belong here.’’

‘’I can’t leave my family.’’ 

‘’I left mine for you.’’ 

You pulled your hand from his hold and narrowed your eyes at him. Jacaerys moving to King’s Landing after the wedding ceremony was your father’s idea, not yours. How dared he blame you for a decision you didn't make?

—

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[sommerbueckers]

BYEE imagine a little blurb of paige x gf reader where reader is wearing THAT ONE urban outfitter top w the titties out and she’s just going ferallll

𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵…𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵, 𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶

___________________________________________________________

YOU WERE STANDING IN the mirror applying the last of your makeup— a little blush here, a little lipgloss there— when your girlfriend barged into the bathroom. She was already dressed, her makeup was done, hair was flawless, her phone charged and ready to go. She stared at you with narrow eyes.

"This is why we're late everywhere," she groaned, gesturing to the curling iron that was still hot and plugged in, and the makeup that was scattered around the sink.

"Well sorry not everyone wakes up as sexy as you," you mumbled absently, carefully lining your lips. "I need time."

"You need time management," she corrected.

You frowned and stood up straight, capping the liner and slipping it into your makeup bag. "Y'know you're one to talk, you get ready on time once and all of a sudden we're behind schedule because of me, you've got some nerve girl." When you were met with silence, you glanced at her to find her eyes on your chest. "Hello?"

Her eyes snapped up to yours, "Hm?"

"You're not even listening! You're just staring at my boobs," you accused her, gently poking her chest with your pointer finger.

"Can you blame me? I mean— they jus' sit so good in that shirt."

You playfully rolled your eyes, shutting off the bathroom light and leaving her alone in the darkness. She followed after you.

"You're gonna wear it outside?" she asked, now looking at your ass as you walked into the kitchen.

"Yes? Is that a problem for you?" you challenged.

"No," she scoffed, "Hell no. Would it look better in the house with some lil panties on? Probably. But, I can't stop you."

"You're right, you can't. So, let's go."

"I'LL TAKE THE PULLED PORK SANDWICH."

Paige had suggested taking a break in your errands and going to lunch. It didn't take much convincing, you hadn't eaten all day. You had had an odd craving for barbecue and ended up at a popular spot not too far from your apartment.

The waiter nodded at you, and then turned to Paige. "And for you?"

Paige didn't answer, her eyes glued to your cleavage as you shifted around in your seat. She had been unapologetically staring at day, lips parted, breathing heavy, an absolute wreck. Even now, with the waiter standing patiently as he waited for her to order, she couldn't bring herself to focus. He cleared his throat to no avail.

Finally noticing the way her attention was clearly on the wrong thing, you snapped your fingers in front of her face. "Paige."

"What?" she frowned, leaning back.

"Order your food."

"Shit, yeah." She quickly scanned the menu, "I'll take what she got, and you could bring out another shirley temple?"

"Sure thing," the guy nodded, flipping his notepad closed, taking the menus, and walking away.

"Dude you're a mess," you whispered, "Get yourself together, we're in public."

"So I can't admire my girlfriend in public?"

"I didn't say that, but you could at least pretend to be respectful about it," you said, laughing as you went to take a sip of your drink.

Paige shook her head, "Just wait 'till we get back home."

"YOU LOOK SO FUCKIN' GOOD RIGHT NOW," Paige murmured, hands behind her head as she leaned back on the couch. You had slowly pulled down your pants, taking your panties with them. Left in nothing but your urban outfitter top, you climbed on top of Paige's lap. Her hands instinctively went to your hips, sensually rubbing up and down. "Want you on my thigh."

"Oh!" you laughed out as you effortlessly moved you onto one of her legs, you bit your lip at the contact her thigh made with your core. "Take your sweatpants off..."

"Nuh uh," she smirked, "wanna see the mess you make." She glanced down at the wet spot on her light gray sweats from where she had just moved you. "C'mon mama, ride it."

___________________________________________________________

𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥..𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘶𝘵

[novaursa]

Valyrian Bride (Continuation)

Requests are closed!

- Summary: When your older brother, Jacaerys, promised you to Cregan to be his bride, the Lord Stark did not expect what he got - a trueborn dragon. 

- Pairing: velaryon!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Previous part: 1

- Next part: Final Chapter

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess

Cregan Stark walked with the dragon princess by his side, feeling the eyes of his men and household upon them. There was a sense of pride that welled up inside him as they entered Winterfell’s stone halls. Not pride in himself, but in the fact that this fierce, regal woman—this vision of Old Valyria—was now his betrothed. It was no small thing to command the presence of such a creature, both her and the dragon she rode. The weight of that responsibility settled on his shoulders, but rather than burden him, it gave him a sense of purpose.

As they crossed the threshold into the Great Hall, the murmurs of those gathered inside came to a halt. Servants, bannermen, and even the most hardened of his household retainers stared openly. They weren’t accustomed to such grandeur, and even in a land where strength was admired, there was something otherworldly about the princess. Her silver-gold hair, the grace of her movements, and the quiet power that seemed to radiate from her drew their eyes like moths to flame.

The warmth of the hearthfire flickered against the cold stone walls, but in the presence of the dragon princess, it felt as though the heat came from her. She walked beside Cregan with an ease that belied her strength, her violet eyes scanning the hall as if she were already its lady, its queen.

Cregan couldn’t help but glance at her from the corner of his eye, watching as she moved like liquid fire, confident and unyielding. He could see the tension in the shoulders of his bannermen, the uncertainty in the eyes of the women who served the household. They were all taken aback, and Cregan couldn’t blame them. He had lived his whole life without seeing anyone like her, and he knew, without doubt, that no one here had ever stood before the true blood of Old Valyria until now.

She was a flame in the middle of a winter storm, a vivid contrast to the world of stone and snow that surrounded her.

“I trust the halls of Winterfell meet your expectations, my lady?” Cregan asked, his voice low but carrying in the stillness of the hall. He wanted to draw her into conversation, not only to ease his own nerves but to learn more of this woman who would soon be his wife.

She turned her gaze to him, a small smile curling on her lips, though it was hard to read the full depth of her thoughts. “It is as grand as the tales say, Lord Stark. A stronghold of honor and tradition.”

Her voice was steady, yet it held an edge to it, as if there was always something more behind her words. It was as though she was measuring everything, assessing him, the people around her, and the place she would soon call home.

“I trust it will serve as more than just a stronghold for you, my lady,” Cregan replied, his eyes meeting hers directly, a subtle challenge of his own. “Winterfell is now your home, and you are its future lady.”

The princess didn’t miss a beat. “Yes, Winterfell will be my home, but I have a home in the sky as well. I belong to both land and air, Lord Stark. Do not forget that.” There was a softness to her words, but it was clear. She may belong to the North by marriage, but her heart would always be tied to the skies, to her dragon.

Cregan inclined his head in acknowledgment. "I doubt anyone will forget, least of all after the sight of Vaetrix in our skies," he said, and then added, more softly, "She is a magnificent creature."

The princess's expression shifted slightly, pride mingled with affection as she spoke of her dragon. “Vaetrix is the daughter of Meleys, the Red Queen herself. Her lineage is one of fire and might. She carries the blood of dragons who have seen empires rise and fall, just as I do.”

Cregan’s brows raised slightly at the mention of Meleys. He had heard of the Red Queen, the swift and powerful dragon that had once belonged to Princess Rhaenys. Her reputation was legendary. To think that Vaetrix was her offspring made the connection between the princess and her dragon even more profound. "The Red Queen," Cregan murmured, nodding thoughtfully. "Your bond with her must be strong, then. I imagine not just any rider could command such a lineage."

Her eyes gleamed in response, as if the conversation about Vaetrix sparked something deeper within her. "A dragon and their rider are bound by more than blood, Lord Stark. We share a soul, a heart. Vaetrix and I have flown together since I was a girl. She is my closest companion, my fiercest ally."

There was a tenderness in her tone now, something almost protective. It made Cregan understand, even more clearly, the depth of the bond between her and the dragon. In a way, it reminded him of the wolves of his house—loyal, fierce, and bound by an unspoken connection. But this bond was greater, stronger, and far more dangerous. He respected it, even admired it.

“Then she will be an ally to the North as well,” Cregan said, his voice filled with conviction. "As you will be."

The princess turned her eyes back to him, her gaze sharp and knowing. "The North has been promised my fire, my lord. And I keep my promises."

Her words were more than just a vow—they were a reminder of the power she wielded, the power she had been born with. Cregan nodded in response, feeling a strange comfort in that certainty. He knew, without question, that she was someone who would fight with all her strength, for her family, her dragon, and soon, for the North.

They continued walking, Cregan leading her deeper into Winterfell’s great halls, where more of his household waited in silent anticipation. Every eye was upon them as they passed, but the princess seemed unbothered by the attention, as if she had long since grown used to the weight of expectation. Cregan noticed the way people parted in her presence, not out of fear, but out of reverence. She was the embodiment of fire, and all knew they were in the presence of something greater than themselves.

As they reached the heart of Winterfell, Cregan paused, turning to face her fully. “There will be a feast tonight in your honor. A celebration of our alliance.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “It will be modest compared to what you may be accustomed to, but we take pride in what the North can offer.”

The princess’s gaze softened slightly, a hint of warmth in her eyes. “The North has already offered me more than I expected. I look forward to seeing its hospitality, Lord Stark.”

There was no mockery in her voice, no hint of the condescension he might have expected from someone raised in the splendor of court life. Instead, there was a genuine respect, a willingness to embrace the new life she was entering. Cregan nodded, feeling that strange mix of pride and anticipation once more.

As the evening drew near, Cregan knew the feast would be only the beginning. He had secured an alliance, but in the dragon princess, he had gained something far more—a partner of equal strength, whose fire would one day burn alongside his own.

The Great Hall of Winterfell was alive with the low hum of voices as the feast unfolded, the hearths were burning high to accommodate a dragon princess in it. Platters of roasted meats and winter greens filled the long tables, while horns of ale and wine passed freely from hand to hand. The air was thick with the scent of food and the crackle of the great fires, but despite the bustle of the hall, all eyes kept drifting toward the high table, where Lord Cregan Stark and his betrothed sat in full view of his bannermen, retainers, and household.

Cregan himself sat straighter than usual, though his posture seemed almost relaxed, as if he were entirely at ease in this moment. His eyes often flicked to the princess seated beside him, watching her as she navigated the curious gazes of the Northmen with the same grace she had displayed all day. There was something undeniably striking about her here, amidst the rustic grandeur of Winterfell’s Great Hall—her silver-gold hair gleaming in the firelight, her violet eyes calm yet ever watchful.

When the time came for toasts, the hall fell into a deep silence as Cregan stood, his horn of ale in hand. The attention of every man, woman, and servant shifted to him, their lord. His voice, strong and sure, carried through the hall.

“Tonight,” he began, “we honor more than just a union between two houses. We honor the blood of dragons and the fire that has joined with the winter.” He paused, his gaze sweeping the room before landing on the princess beside him. “The daughter of Princess Rhaenyra, the only daughter of House Targaryen, has come to the North. She is now our guest, and soon, she will be my wife.”

A murmur of approval rippled through the crowd, but it was tempered by the awe that still hung in the air. Many had never seen a woman like her, let alone one of royal Valyrian descent. To them, she was more legend than flesh and blood.

Cregan raised his horn higher, his eyes never leaving hers. “To the Lady of Fire,” he said, his voice full of pride. “To the daughter of Rhaenyra!”

The hall erupted in cheers, the echo of voices bouncing off the ancient stone walls. Horns were raised, clashing together in raucous celebration as the Northmen embraced their lord’s words. And yet, even amidst the noise, Cregan saw the way his men stole glances at the princess, admiration clear in their eyes.

The princess raised her own horn in response, a subtle smile playing on her lips as she inclined her head toward Cregan. "To the North," she said, her voice soft but carrying through the hall with a clarity that commanded attention. "And to the strength of its people."

The words were simple, but they carried weight. The hall seemed to settle after that, the conversations resuming with renewed vigor as the feast carried on. Yet Cregan’s focus remained fixed on her.

As the noise of the hall filled the space around them, Cregan leaned slightly toward her, his voice low so that their conversation would remain private. “You’ve impressed them already,” he remarked, his eyes glinting with a rare hint of amusement. “It takes much to win the respect of Northmen, but I see it in their eyes.”

The princess turned to him, her violet gaze meeting his with a certain calm, but there was a flicker of curiosity there too. “I hadn’t expected to win their respect so soon,” she said, her tone thoughtful. “But I do not think it is me they respect so much as the idea of the alliance—of what we represent.”

Cregan considered her words, his brow furrowing slightly as he mulled them over. “Perhaps,” he allowed, “but it’s more than just an alliance. They see you, a dragon’s daughter, and they understand the power that you carry. You’re no simple marriage prize.”

Her lips curved upward, just a fraction. “Is that how you see me, Cregan Stark? A symbol of power?”

He chuckled softly, the sound low in his throat. “I see you as many things, princess. Power is just one of them.”

Her smile grew more visible now, and there was something lighter in her expression, as if she were pleased by his words, even if she did not show it openly. “And what else do you see, my lord?”

Cregan leaned in just a fraction more, his voice dropping. “I see a woman with a mind as sharp as the blade she wears. I see a rider whose bond with her dragon makes her stronger than any queen. And,” his eyes softened, the faintest glimmer of admiration in them, “I see someone who will stand beside me, not behind me.”

She studied him for a moment, as if weighing the truth of his words, and then nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Good,” she said, her tone firm but carrying an edge of warmth. “Because I have no intention of standing behind anyone.”

Cregan allowed himself a smile then, something rare and unguarded. It felt easy, natural in her presence, something he hadn’t anticipated. She wasn’t just a symbol of fire and dragons—she was alive, filled with strength and grace in equal measure, and with each passing moment, Cregan found himself looking forward to what the future might bring with her at his side.

For the rest of the evening, Cregan’s mood remained light, his smiles more frequent than anyone could remember seeing before. The hall, filled with food, laughter, and music, felt brighter somehow, as if the fire she had brought with her from the skies had seeped into Winterfell itself. There was a warmth there that was new, a change carried on dragon’s wings.

Years later, when scholars and storytellers recalled that night, they would write about how Lord Cregan Stark, known for his stoic nature, had smiled more during that feast than any had seen before, save for two other occasions—on his wedding day, and when the first child of the Dragon Princess was born in the cold halls of Winterfell. But for now, the legend was only beginning.

As the feast wore on, Cregan turned to her again, unable to resist asking, “Do you think Vaetrix feels at ease here in the cold North? It’s far from the warmth of Dragonstone.”

She tilted her head, her silver-gold hair catching the firelight once more. “Vaetrix is not concerned with warmth or cold,” she replied. “She is her mother’s daughter, bred for strength and flight, and the North’s cold will not trouble her. Besides,” her smile grew, more playful this time, “she knows I will not be far from her.”

Cregan nodded. “She is a creature of legend, like her rider,” he said softly.

The princess turned her eyes to him, the faintest flush of warmth in her cheeks. For a moment, the fire of her Valyrian blood met the unyielding strength of the North in Cregan’s gaze, and in that shared moment, both knew their bond would be one of legend.

The fire had come to Winterfell, and it would burn for generations to come.

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being Sylus' high-school sweetheart, like the typical power couple that everyone in the campus knows about. A subject of envy and admiration. The couple that eveyone aspire to become.

Imagine years went by and you loathe the very same man you once dreamt of becoming your other half. The one you once build all your dream with only to come crashing down when he left without a word. Not a damn word and he vanished right after that very same night he promised to be yours and only yours.

Imagine Sylus who came back like he never left, at the very same night were you were declared as the heir, the next leader into your father's mafia legacy, there he waltz in the room. Only to have known later that day that he was heir of the rival group your family has been on conflict with.

Imagine not too long after that night, you were walking on your own only to find yourself pressed down on the wall but it was alright, you have been drilled into this situation long ago so it did not take you a lot of effort to press the tip of your gun into his skull, specially when he did not even bothering nudging you off. "It's been a while, Kitten." "Well fuck you- Sylus."

Imagine fucking hating him. You fucking hate him, the way he left without saying anything, the way he act like nothing happened after leaving you. The way he made you feel like all those sleepless nights wondering if you were never enough was all for naught. You fucking hate him, goodness gracious you do but fucking hell. You do miss him.

"Just so you know, I still fucking hate you." You stated in which made him chuckle. Leaning over you to give you a kiss on the crown of your head, fingers brushing through your bare skin as he laid down right beside you. "I know Kitten." He was not asking for forgiveness. Not when he know he doesn't deserve it. Nevertheless, this was enough. Looking over you, he finds you asleep. "I love you. I never stop loving you." Or maybe not, by the way your hand curl into a fist that goes unnoticed by him.

Imagine all the secret late night talks, all the exchange glances. The way the two of you would sneak into the night only to see each other. All the confidential mission but were secretly going out for a date with none other than your family's number one enemy heir. It was funny when you think about. How much you love and hate this very same guy who once break your heart was also the same guy who was slowly trying to fix it.

Imagine one day, you find yourself staring at a white ceiling. Eyes adjusting on the blinding light as you raise a hand to cover it when all of a sudden, you were bombarded with questions. "Who are you?" That was the only question that came out of your mind before everything came crashing out. Your head starts to ache. And before you knew it, everything went black once again.

Imagine years went by ever since the massacre of the your mafia organisation. Sylus got a report stating a person looking very similar to his long lost lover who was believed to have perished long ago has been spotted. It was not like he was not looking forward to it, but it was also not the first time such report came into him. He received at least a hundred reports every month only to be disappointed when everything was done. He knew you were alive, you body was never found. You have to be alive.

"Who are you?" He felt like he had been stab in the heart when you look at him with such distrust. Even when he left you and came back like the asshole he was, you never looked at him like that. "I'm not the one you are looking for." You walked passed him like he was nothing. "Weirdo." You utter, yet somehow. It hurts when you did such thing which was strange, you don't even know that guy.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: I fucked this one up, I'm sorry.