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#like why was all that necessary this poor man
setsailforthestars · 1 year
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Thank u Good Omens for highlighting how absolutely fucked up the book of Job is in the Bible
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coryosbaby · 10 months
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we (8 billion people) are begging for dom fem reader and coryo dynamic. Why she always gotta be sub like my dom ass would slap the shit out of him ong
ʙᴇɢɢɪɴ’ ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴋɴᴇᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ !
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Synopsis: Coriolanus will do anything to get to the top, right?
Content warning . power dynamics, loss of virginity, face riding, multiple orgasms, marking, sub!pussydrunk! Coryo, dom! Reader that’s a lil fucked up
notes: me when coryo has hair real . This kinda sucks I’m sorry
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When you see Coriolanus Snow, you see a desperate man.
A boy, actually. You see a boy. A desperate, handsome, power hungry boy. You can see it in the way he towers over his peers in a sort of fake dominance, the fauxness behind his sugary sweet words directed to anything or anyone in a higher position— some even directed towards you, when that blush isn’t flushing his cheeks with a feral intensity.
As the daughter of Dr. Gaul, it’s quite easy for you to advance some of your friends in their studies. You are not only her daughter, but in a position of power yourself. You know people— and Coriolanus knows that. You aren’t dumb. You can tell by his eyes, the empty, icy blue orbs not quite telling the truth.
Coriolanus, in a way, is just like you.
Maybe that’s what intrigues you so much about him. Besides that pretty smile, or those golden curls or those muscles that make you drool, you admire his determination. You know about his poorness (not all know, but some do, as Dean Casca Highbottom once quoted to him), and you know one will go far to satiate their own greed.
It’s just a matter of how far.
Coriolanus walks into your lab crying, one day.
Not obviously. It’s subtle, as you demand he sit down and take off his shirt so you can stitch up his wounds. Your hands graze it softly, and he winces.
“Does it hurt?” You ask him, even though you already know the answer.
He lets out a shaky breath, his hands clenching at the seat.
“Yes.”
An honest answer. He must trust you.
You hum, beginning to work on his wound with taught precision. Looking at him now, his jaw is clenching tightly and the boy is shaking so much you fear he might break.
“I killed someone.”
He states it in a remorseful tone, the tone of someone weak and pathetic.
“Someone in the games, if I’m correct?”
He turns to look at you in surprise, as if you didn’t have access to your mother’s decision of allowing him to walk in there and save his friend Sejanus. He says nothing, then. He sniffles, and cries silently.
“You know,” you state, beginning to stitch him. “I’ve killed someone too. Someone I needed to kill.” You smile, remembering the one time a student who was threatening to take your place mysteriously fell into the pit of snakes. “It was necessary.”
Coriolanus tries to stay nonchalant, but you can see the way his shoulders tense. He doesn’t say a word, so you continue.
“Was it necessary to kill the person you killed?”
He looks down at his hands. Caked with blood, knuckles drawn taught. You want to bite them.
“No,” Coriolanus answers slowly. “No, it wasn’t.”
Maybe there’s more darkness to the boy than you originally thought.
You speak to him in a much lower tone now.
“Maybe it was. You just don’t know it.” And then, “There are a lot of things certain people can do to get to the top, Coriolanus.”
Your insinuation doesn’t go unnoticed. He moves his head to look at you.
“And what would that be?”
Typical. Someone so power hungry that his head turns at the mere mention of an opportunity. You’ve got him right where you want him.
You finish up his stitches. You move around to his front, your short red skirt all of a sudden incredibly suffocating as he looks up at you with something utterly pathetic in his gaze.
“How far are you willing to go, Coriolanus?”
And that’s when, a few moments later, you get your wish: that skirt, oh so suffocating, is strewn on the floor, Coriolanus’ big hands massaging the skin of your thighs as you straddle him. Your lips press against his in a hot and heavy kiss, your tongue massaging his lips with fervor. He may be doing this for advancement, but the blonde wants you nonetheless. You can see in the way his hips grind up, the way he lets out desperate whines as you lick up his tears with your tongue. Pulling away from him, your cunt clenches when he tries to push your body down onto his crotch.
“No, Coryo,” you demand, though your voice is desperate. “I want you on the floor, okay? You’re going to taste me first.”
He hesitates, his eyes darting to your lacey panties and then to the colorful tiles.
“… the floor?”
He seems nervous, jittery. It’s not as if he’s afraid of getting dirty, or something.
No, this is something else. In the way he nervously twiddles his fingers, the way his bottom lip catches in between his teeth. It’s not as if he wants to stop— it’s more so that he’s inexperienced.
And then it hits you.
Coriolanus snow is a virgin. This big handsome boy, beautiful and delicious, has never done had sex before. He’s never felt the touch of a woman, never eaten pussy or got his dick sucked.
And for some reason, that makes you want him more.
“Oh,” you coo to him, soft. “Coryo, you’ve never done this before, have you?”
His face turns dusty pink, but he tries to deny, deny, deny.
“What? No! Of course I’m not. I’m just..” he looks at the floor, his lie clear on his face. “The tiles are cold. Dirty.”
“You’re caked with blood and sweat, sweet boy. I’m sure the tiles will be fine.”
He looks away from you, his lips drawn up into a pout.
“I’m not a virgin.” He states, merely to himself. You raise a brow, an amused smile playing on your lips as you move farther away from him.
“Then why don’t you come and eat my pussy, baby?”
His cock strains against his zipper, and you swear you can see it twitch from where you’re standing. He gulps, and with a submission you would’ve never expected, the boy drops to his knees on the tile and makes his way towards you. His shirt, unbuttoned, shows the pretty lines of his chest and his rippling back muscles, and when he gets to you, he stops at the front of your still standing knees. Satisfaction wades through you when his hands move up to the waistband of your underwear and yanks them down with shaking hands. Your smell hits his nose, makes his head tilt back as he lets out a throaty sound in the back of his throat. His tongue laves over the skin of your inner thigh, his hands going around the back of one of your knees to pull you close. You spread your legs to allow him access, your pussy lips drenched with arousal as his breath laves over you.
“Go on, Coryo,” you urge. “You want me to put a good word to my colleagues, yeah? So you better do a good job.”
He moans, his tongue finally slipping in between your folds as he tastes you. He’s messy, sloppy, and it’s good but it’s not good enough.
“God. I thought you were experienced? Huh, Coryo? Don’t you wanna make me feel good? Are you even fucking trying?”
He pulls away from you, shame in his eyes as you scold him. He pleads, his lip wobbling, his arms holding onto your legs.
“Please, I’m sorry. ‘M so sorry. Teach me, please…”
He tries to press a kiss to your cunt, but you kick him away with your foot. He falls to the ground, helpless.
“Lay down—I don’t care if it hurts your back. Don’t make me tell you twice.”
He does as he’s told, all sweet and sweaty and bloody. His back hits the tile, injured but he ignores it when he watches you tower over him. You move down, pressing your knees on either side of his head. He grabs your thighs to place his mouth back on you, but you grab his golden curls in your hands and yank him back. He groans in pain, his feet kicking in a sort of pleasured resistance.
“You use your mouth when I tell you to, coryo,” you scold, watching the way his eyes flutter and only focus on your dripping pussy. “You do what I say. If I guide your head, or press myself down at a certain spot, you go along with it. Do you understand me?”
He nods, desperate to get his mouth on you, his cock thrusting into the open air.
“Good. Now, go slower. Stick out your tongue.. wider… therrre you go, baby.” His eyes focus on that one spot, his tongue hovering right over your clit. He must have read up on this a time or two. You press him closer, shoving his face into your heat as his tongue hits the swollen bud. “You see that? That’s my clit. Yeahh, stick your tongue right there…”
He groans, the taste of your sweet slick making his eyes roll back. His palms splay across your ass, digging crescent moons into the skin. You move your hips in a circular motion, giving Coryo the impression to move his tongue that way. He’s a smart boy, so he knows exactly what you’re communicating to him. His tongue moves in slow, languid circles, your slick already dripping down his chin. You can’t help but give into the pleasure he’s giving you for a moment, riding his face like your life depends on it before slowing down and stopping.
“Good, coryo. You’re being such a good boy. But you need to move your tongue down. You don’t want to play with my clit too much, because I’ll cum quick if you do.”
He makes a noise of understanding, moving his tongue down to your hole. It’s much funner this way, he thinks. The tip of his tongue can gather up the awaiting slick that’s spilling out of you, it makes your taste all the more prominent. You give him some room to experiment now, letting him move his tongue in between your clit and your hole. He catches on, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was experienced now— he’s a natural learner. Your hips grind down into him, and when he tongues your hole you use his strong nose to grind lazily against. Coryo can only breathe in your slick, his brain becoming fuzzy from his lack of air. But it’s okay. It’s okay because he’s doing good.
You can feel yourself getting close, the languid strokes of his tongue making your legs shake. You hump against his mouth, your head thrown back.
“Gonna cum,” you say to him. “Gonna cum on this slut mouth.”
He groans, his jaw working even harder now. He focuses on your clit more, save for the few times that he slurps up the slick from your hole. Your orgasm is fast approaching, your body drawing up tight.
And finally, you’re cumming on his mouth, moans spilling from your lips and Coryo’s. He’s desperate to catch all of your cum onto his awaiting tongue, his legs still moving around as he consumes you like a man starved. Your eyes roll back and you grind your hips against him as you come down from your high. Coryo pulls away once he’s satiated, looking up at you with his chin coated in slick.
You sigh, pulling your hips back to give him some air. You move your body off of him, going to your knees to watch his pussy drunk face still follow your cunt as you move. You want to return the favor, now. It’s only fair.
But looking down, you notice a wet spot soaking through Coryo’s pants.
He lifts himself up on his elbows, looking from his crotch to you. He flushes, apologies spewing from his wet lips, shaking his head.
“I tried not to. I really, really did. ‘M so sorry.”
He tries to reach out to touch you, but you just move away and down to his crotch. You unbutton his jeans, and he lets you. You look down at his red briefs, watching the white stain peeking through.
“Oh, baby. You just couldn’t help, it could you?”
You mock him, your hand palming his shaft. He lets out a whimper, his head falling back against the tile. He knows it’s too much, but he isn’t stopping you. You pull his briefs down, and boy is he big. Thick and long, all pretty and red with cum dripping down to his balls. Your mouth waters, but you figure that can wait another day. His seed can be used for other things.
You flutter your lashes at him, your hand wrapping around his shaft, jerking him to hardness again. He’s got this look, contorted and pained and pleasured at the same time. You straddle his meaty thighs, your cunt lips brushing over his cockhead, and he gasps.
“W-Wait—“ he starts, choked. “It’s.. ‘S too much—“
“Then why are you hard again?” You tilt your head at him, your movements paused because he didnt give you full permission. “Don’t you want my warm, tight pussy? Don’t you want to make it to the top?”
And that gets him going, his arousal for you and power and riches. He nods, eyes rolling back as you sink down on him. The cum from his last orgasm coats your walls and makes it easier to fill yourself up, warm white streaks dripping down his cock again.
“Oh.. oh my god,” his mouth drops open, and you’ve never heard a boy so vocal. “Please… I want it, I want it!”
You know what he’s asking for. Your stilled hips are non moving, letting him stretch you and sit heavy inside your cunt. You smile, moving your hips just a bit, letting him feel your gummy walls sucking him in. His mouth is in the shape of an o, his hair messy and disoriented. He tries to grab your tits, your hips, and with a surprising force your palm strikes his cheek haughtily. He cries out, his thighs shaking, his hips thrusting up.
“No touching,” you demand. “You don’t get to do that. Give me your hands.”
He lets you take them, and you push them far over his head as you begin to work your hips harder, faster. His balls make plop plop plop-ing noises as they hit your ass, quivering and begging for you to let them empty inside you. You move down to his neck, leaving purpleish bruises over his skin, marking him as yours. You let go of his hands so you can rest your hands on his torso, and his hands move up. Not necessarily to touch, but to hover over your tits bouncing through your tight fitted shirt. You give him permission, just a moment, to squeeze the soft skin in his hands, give them a teasing, bold little slap. You breathe shakily, his cock filling you up in ways no other has. You watch as Coryo’s head tilts back, and you know he’s close.
“Gonna cum?” You taunt, your nails scraping against his chest. He groans, nodding. “Gonna fill up my tight little pussy? Cmon, give it to me, I know you want to.”
And when he spills into you, rope after rope of warm, hot cum filling you to the brim, you let out a cry. His fingers find your clit— he’s thought this through, hasn’t he? He rubs you until you’re seeing stars and clenching around his overstimulated cock with a loud sob. He moves up to kiss you hot on the mouth.
“Did I do good?” He asks.
You smile, your hand threading your hands through his hair as you both relax against each other.
“You did very good, Coryo. I’m so proud of you.”
He breathes out a chuckle, shoving his face into your neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and he winces. His wound has been withstanding a lot of pressure.
“You probably want to put some ice on that.” You suggest to him. He shrugs.
“The tile was cold enough.”
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eaterofman · 1 year
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Yandere Harem Coworkers x New Hire Reader
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Now with a part 2 <3
Good news: You landed your dream job! Bad news: Your coworkers are fucking insane.
CW: Yanderes, workplace harassment, possessiveness, implied stalking, power dynamics, dubcon touching
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You hadn't expected a job like this to come so easily.
It really had been a dream job from the moment you laid eyes on the job posting, and they'd even offered you better during the interview! They'd even thrown in an extra sign on bonus! You couldn't believe your luck. You were finally going places.
Really, how could you say no?
Your interviewer was the HR manager, Leon Jacobs. He was a stern looking man, clearly in his late 40's, and didn't seem to have a single flaw in his appearance. His age showed in the beginnings of grey hairs atop his tidy, shortcut black hair, and the creases beneath his eyes. His appearance was beyond intimidating. Dark, scowling eyes picked you apart from behind his glasses as you fidgeted in your chair. Whatever nightmare of an interview you thought was coming, never happened. Instead, you were surprised when he almost immediately offered you not only the job, but an even better salary and bonus than was advertised. You were almost too stunned to speak, as he held out his hand to shake, his dark expression lifting with the slightest twitch of his lips. You took his hand shakily in agreement. In your excitement, you didn't notice the way his hand gripped yours a hair too tight, or how his touch lingered for a few moments longer than it should have. The way his gaze intently followed your figure as you walked out was also missed by you.
"We're so happy to welcome you to the team. Our team will make sure your time working here is as pleasant as possible."
Your trainer is a well respected man, Warren Pen. Warren is a huge man, easily towering over you. While he'd be otherwise intimidating at his size, his warm expression and demeanor quickly puts you at ease. How could you be afraid of him, with his warm brown eyes and bouncy red curls and gentle smile? You quickly learned that he must have a pretty high position in the company. His office alone was almost as big as your entire apartment! The office they give you is nearly as big, much to your surprise. Warren reassures you that it's not a mistake, that they just want you to be comfortable in your new position. You are so very important to the company, after all. As he helps you settle in, you're amazed by his generosity and kindness. You're too happy to question why there's such a big office space right next to his open for you, or why such a high ranking worker would be assigned to train a newbie. You're initially confused about why all your other coworkers seem to cower away from him... until you see him lose it on a poor intern. His demeanor changed from a gentle giant to a raging monster within the blink of an eye, screaming at the intern over a simple filing mistake. You find yourself suddenly on your toes around him, waiting for a verbal barrage over one of your mishaps, but it never comes.
"Don't worry, I'd never treat you like that. They deserved it. You're doing perfect."
Your department's boss is a man named Jax Wright. Jax is a charming man, and the childhood best friend of Warren. He's slim and tall, with black hair and a slightly rugged appearance. He always seems to be in a rush, hair usually rustled and a 5 o'clock shadow a constant on his face. Yet, he somehow takes time out of his busy day to visit you. Or, more accurately, he finds the time to corner you when you're alone or with Warren. You don't want to lose this dream of a job, so you don't mention the way the childhood friends always find a way to crowd around you in the more narrow hallways or the breakroom. They insist you have lunch everyday with them, why would you want to eat by yourself? You really shouldn't deny your superiors' lunch requests, y'know. You ignore the lingering touches as he leans in far closer than necessary to examine your work, hands placed possessively on your shoulders. He loves to give you overwhelming praise, even for the most minor of accomplishments. You're afraid your other coworkers will think the worst of you because of the special treatment, but they seem to be avoiding you nearly as much as they avoid Warren.
"Good job. You're exceptional as always. It's been an absolute pleasure to work with you. Keep being good and you're bound for a raise."
With the rest of the department seeming to avoid you like the plague, you start to believe that you're stuck with just the overbearing childhood friends to talk to. That is until the secretary, Jake Moor, begins to talk to you. Jake is flamboyant, to say the least. He's bright, from his beaming white smile to his wide array of cute, colorful ties he matches with his suit. He's young, in his early 20s, and his bright blonde hair only adds to his youthful appearance. He's almost too much, talking at light speed and somehow being more touchy than your boss. He always finds a reason to pull you into hugs, or rustle your hair playfully. It doesn't bother you much though, he's just being friendly, right? And you really don't want to lose one of the few friends you have in the department. He has some sort of treat for you everyday, usually a homemade meal or pastry you have to find the time to eat alone before you're coworkers steal you away to have lunch with them. His cheerful nature motivates you to stay with the company, he really is your "beacon of light". You even find yourself giggling to yourself as he sends you silly motivational cat pictures throughout your day. He's so cute you don't even question how he got your number when you never gave it to him yourself. You do find it a bit odd that he knows exactly where to go when your car breaks down one day and he gives you a ride home, but you'd told him you lived in those apartments on the east side, remember? He'd never use his position to look at confidential paperwork. Never.
"I brought you in some cookies I baked last night, and here, I even made some dog treats! I've never made them before, let me know how he likes them! How did I know you have a dog? ...you told me, remember? Silly!"
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As the weeks pass, you start to become more accustomed to your coworker's odd mannerisms. They still wear on you, but the money is just so good. You need it, where else would you even go? There's no chance you'd find anything near as good, if you found anything at all. You needed this job, Jax and Warren's overbearing natures aside. At least you had Jake, who always seems to know exactly what you need whenever you need it.
You can tough it out... right?
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mysicklove · 6 months
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Toddlers are known to look at their caregivers to see how they should react when they trip and fall. Even if the stumble of their wobbly legs doesn’t hurt them, in many cases, they will still cry if their guardians fuss over them. Although, if the adult doesn’t give them a time of day usually the little beasts get up and go back to playing with their friends.
This phenomenon is pretty common for the toddler you raise. The small child seemed to master how to react during certain situations depending on who is watching him, you or his wicked older brother.
The three of you go to the park where Yuuji runs around the playground, letting out giggles and squeals when Nobara and Megumi play tag with him. You somehow drift off on Sukunas shoulder on a nearby bench, closing your eyes and slumping against your boyfriend, content with the fact that he has his eye on the reckless child.
As to be aspected, Yuuji, after being warned very harshly by his “doting” brother to go slow when going down the steps of the playground, ignores the caution and sprints down the stairs only to miss a step and fall straight to the bark. It wasn’t a hard fall — his legs collapsed beneath him, and he landed on his knees with a plop. No harm, no injuries, mostly just shock of him falling a couple feet into the bark.
The first thing he does is look toward you, unconsciously questioning if he is about to cry out from the pain so that you can pick him up and coddle him. But he can’t catch your sleeping gaze and instead finds himself face-to-face with Sukuna.
His brother only raises an eyebrow at him, shaking his head as if to say “i dare you to cry right now”. The two of them make eye contact for longer than necessary, silent communication, and Yuuji sniffles, gulps, and slowly gets up before going back to playing.
The elder Itadori puts his hand in front of your eyes, blocking out the sun from disturbing your sleep and continues to watch his younger brother walk much more carefully up and down the playground. It was good to not coddle the boy; Sukuna didn’t want Yuuji to grow up spoiled; he was to be a man, strong just like him.
But of course, Sukuna happened to be raising him with you, a person with the biggest soft spot for the child. And so when you wake up from your nap, and Sukuna calls the boy over to leave, you notice the tiny piece of bark sticking out of the boy's leg. It was surface level — Yuuji didn’t even notice it, but still, the image looked much more gruesome than it was really.
You gasp and begin to fuss over his “injured” leg, asking the boy if he tripped and fell if he was hurt at all if he was okay. And suddenly, to Yuuji, it seemed that maybe that fall did hurt a little too bad. Maybe he wasn't okay like he thought.
Tears begin to well up in his eyes.
“Don’t you give me that shit. You’re fine. You tripped like five minutes ago, and I know it didn’t hurt.”
Yuuji shakes his head, ignoring his brother and rubbing his eyes while he looks up at you. “O-Owie…” he whines, rubbing at his knee.
“Poor thing, did you hurt yourself? I’m sorry baby, I wasn’t watching.” He reaches his hands up to you, and you scoop him up while he begins to cry into your neck.
It was a fake cry, obviously enough. It makes the elder Itadoris mouth hang open. “You little liar!”
“Don’t be mean, Sukuna.” You say, teasing him because you realized quickly enough that the boys “cries” didn’t produce any liquid from his eyes. You didn’t mind spoiling the boy either way.
Sukuna, realizing you also understood, lets out a dramatic groan, shaking his head before exclaiming, “Why am I surrounded by weaklings?!”
You just laugh at him, thinking about to a few years earlier during highschool. Sukuna was the one who would dramatize his pain whenever he got in a fight. You would listen to his whines (after he profusely exclaimed that he won by a longshot) over a busted lip and a black eye while you would fuss over him, just as you are doing to Yuuji.
He got into a lot of fights during highschool because Sukuna could never get enough of you fretting over him. He liked when you played nurse and coddled him, way too similar to the way you cooed at Yuuji.
The two of them, although Sukuna would never admit it, are way too similar. Both are strong and independent boys who happen to turn into whiny, attention-seeking puppies when you are around.
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eddiethebrave · 28 days
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secret admirer part fifteen
836 words
one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen
After the last bell rings on Monday, Steve grabs his things and heads out. 
The picnic table is empty when he gets there, but he figures it’ll only remain that way for a few minutes at most. 
Eddie suggested they meet here so he can tell people to spread the word that he isn’t selling on Mondays or Wednesdays for the next couple of weeks when they come to buy.
Steve had asked him, Aren’t they gonna be, like, pissed? 
To which Eddie replied, Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, Harrington.
Steve had - obviously - immediately shut his mouth and thought about that for the rest of the day. Including now. 
Eddie’s been talking to him more since they were assigned as partners, which isn’t a surprise but what is is the flirting. It’s flirting, right? 
Steve just doesn’t understand why. Why reject the notes when he found out Steve was behind them, only to turn around and flirt with him to his face?
He isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, though, so he - somewhat reluctantly - lets it go.
Just as Steve’s finished setting up his supplies (a big sheet of cardstock, a pencil, a sharpener, an eraser, and a divider (just in case)) he hears approaching footsteps. 
“Well, look at you, all prepared.”  Eddie plops onto the opposite side of the table. 
Steve’s cheeks heat up and he clears his throat. “What do you mean?”
Eddie looks at him deadpan and pulls out a sheet of paper and a pencil that looks like it has bite marks all over it. “This’ what I got.”
Steve looks at his pencil that is missing an eraser and raises a skeptical eyebrow.
Eddie grins.
Steve shakes his head in disapproval and swipes the utensil from the boy, earning a sharp hey!
Steve absentmindedly slips Eddie’s poor excuse for a pencil into his backpack for safekeeping. He digs around for a moment before emerging with a brand new pack of pencils. After a moment of consideration, he pulls out an eraser as well. He sets his haul in front of Eddie and only belatedly realizes how weird that probably is when he looks up and sees the boy’s face.
Eddie seems dumbfounded. 
Steve’s back straightens. “Or you can have your pencil back. I didn’t mean to…I-I’m sorry.” He reaches forward to take the stuff back and Eddie shakes his head, seeming to snap out of it.
An incredulous smile breaks out on his face and he picks up the supplies and holds it close to his chest. “No take-backsies.” 
Steve’s shoulders slump in relief. “Yeah?”
Once he deems it safe enough, Eddie lowers his things back to the table and spreads them out. “You kidding me, man?”
Steve smiles and gestures to the divider laid between them, but not set up yet. “Think that’s gonna be necessary?” he asks. 
Eddie cackles. 
Steve hadn’t thought much about how he was gonna tackle making a portrait of Eddie. He’s worried he isn’t going to be able to capture him perfectly. Then again, Steve doesn’t think anything could. 
He decides to do the same as yesterday and start with the hair.  It takes much longer than he thought it would - much longer than Steve’s hair did yesterday. Eddie’s hair is longer and frizzier. He waldo has waves that Steve thinks could be curls with the right treatment. It looks good on Eddie, but not so much on Steve’s paper. After erasing and starting over about ten times, the paper is starting to look a little banged up. Steve’s brows furrow in frustration and he flips the paper over to try again on the backside. He starts with Eddie’s clothes this time, and that goes better. 
Steve’s trying not to think about the fact that Eddie is right there and drawing him right now, too, but it’s difficult when he can feel the boy’s eyes on him more often than not. 
They have to look up at each other for reference. 
They end up staying for a little over two hours and when they pack up their stuff to leave, Steve lets Eddie take his pencil sharpener. He acts like he doesn’t notice - lets him think he’s getting away with something. 
Not many people came looking to buy, after all. It was only two people and Steve pretended not to listen in on the conversations. 
Eddie and Steve walk side by side to the parking lot. They reach Eddie’s van first and Steve slows to a stop, not wanting this to be over so soon. 
Eddie digs around in his jacket pockets for his keys. “See you around, Harrington.”
Steve chews on his lip. “Steve,” he says. 
Eddie looks up from where he’s unlocking the driver’s door. 
“Huh?”
“Steve,” he repeats. “Call me Steve.”
Eddie chuckles and leans in to punch Steve’s shoulder lightly. “Alright, Steve.”
Steve grins and slowly backs away. “See you later, Eddie.”
“You, too.”
“Drive safe.”
Eddie smiles, a small thing. “You too.”
sixteen
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gurugirl · 9 months
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2. The Unicorn | nanny!yn
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Unicorn: An individual who is willing to join an existing romantic relationship. Usually a bisexual female.
Summary: The night has arrived and things are going really well for all three of you until suddenly they're not.
A/N: This will be 3 parts. Based on this and this.
Word Count: 10k+
Warning: 18+ only, smut, jealousy, angst, hurt feelings, daddy kink
The Unicorn Masterlist
When you left, Harry walked back inside his house feeling like a new man. He felt real. He felt strong and virile. He didn’t know what had come over him being so direct with you. So rapacious. But it felt natural. It was like something about you brought it out of him.
It wasn’t until he was sitting at the table with the boys eating dinner that any little inkling of guilt started to wash over him. It was then he realized he hadn’t even thought about Kit since he started making dinner. He was conjuring up images in his mind of what you would look like on Saturday in various positions. Imagined the way your eyes would widen and then squeeze close when you orgasmed. Wondered how many he could coax out of you. He’d completely blocked out that his wife would be participating.
He would need to tame himself. See how Kit responded to seeing you and him together. If she enjoyed it he could loosen up a little but he was concerned about the way you two clicked. Your dynamic was very good, Harry thought, that he would have a hard time sharing you. Plus, he wasn’t sure whether or not Kit would like to hear you calling him Daddy. And Harry really wanted to hear you call him Daddy again.
When his wife got home the twins were already in bed and Harry was in the master bedroom reading, “So how did it go?” She asked him as she plucked her heels off, placing her palm on their dresser to balance herself.
“It was good. Why don’t you get ready for bed and then we can talk about everything that happened?”
Harry had decided he’d play down what had happened between you two. He’d be honest but he wouldn’t divulge some of his innermost thoughts. The parts where he forgot all about his wife and how your soft and docile demeanor was refreshing and made him feel masculine and wide awake all of a sudden. No. He wouldn’t share that much with her.
Kit turned off the ceiling light and turned on her lamp before climbing into bed with Harry, “So, tell me how it went.”
“Yeah. It was good. She was very open. She said she wanted to join us on Saturday for sure.”
Kit nodded, “And? Did you two kiss or anything?”
Harry’s heart began to lob in his chest at the idea that he was going to tell his wife what he’d done with another woman. Kit seemed fine. She insisted she was but Harry still felt unease about how to handle this situation gracefully. Without anyone getting hurt.
“Yeah, we did. Brought her into the bedroom, here so the kids didn’t see. Kissed her and then got her clothes off, fingered her,” he inhaled softly and felt his cheeks glow and his chest burn. “That was it.”
Kit grinned and slid in close to Harry, smoothing her palm under his shirt, “Yeah? I wish I could have seen it. Did she come?”
Harry puffed out a laugh of disbelief. Maybe he was fretting for nothing. Perhaps his guilt had been needless. Maybe Kit was right. Maybe this would be really good for them.
“Yes.” He looked down at where his wife’s hand was traveling.
“And did you come?”
“No. I kept all my clothes on when I was with her and then when she left I had to get dinner for the boys and I was with them until I finally got into bed a bit ago.”
Kit palmed over his crotch, “You poor man. You did so good for me today, baby.” She kissed his lips, “You deserve a treat.”
Harry sighed as his wife put her hand into his night pants and began to pump his cock slowly. Closing his eyes with a smile he realized he probably had nothing to worry about.
.           .           .
You were a mess. You couldn’t sleep in the way that was necessary to function properly the next day. You kept going from squealing into your pillow like a 16-year-old after your crush admitted to liking you too, to feeling overwhelming anxiety about what was to come. Kit was an unknown in the equation. For many reasons.
The first was that you’d never been intimate with a woman even though you crushed on women for longer than you had men. The second was that you were worried that now that you’d called Harry Daddy and knew how much he liked it, even if Kit didn’t like that it would be hard for you to turn that off. The third thing was that you weren’t sure you’d want to see Harry kissing anyone else or watch him preferring his wife over you, because he would. Because Kit was so much prettier than you and she was his wife, the mother of his children. You were certain that you’d wind up kind of being the third wheel.
But maybe you had it all wrong. Maybe you’d love being with Kit and things would just be fun. But your rabbit hole Google search wound up landing you on a subreddit all about this kind of thing and did not leave you with confidence about what was to come. So many horror stories about “unicorn hunters” finding their “unicorn” and the ways threesomes can end a marriage.
But you said yes. And you intended to follow through. They both really seemed to want it. And you trusted them. Perhaps your experience would be among the rare ones that worked out for the better.
The rest of the week felt like you were slowly entering into a new realm of existence. Dramatic way to put it but that’s just how it felt. Things would change for you. Not only would you be having your first sexual encounter with a woman, but you’d also be having a threesome. You’d be in the middle of a married couple and that was not a situation you thought you’d ever get into.
But also, you were very aware that Harry was planning on fucking you. In front of his wife. And you couldn’t imagine that going well. Of course, you forced your fantasy to make it positive but there was something that was telling you that it wouldn’t be. You hoped you were just nervous for nothing.
On Friday before you left Mr. and Mrs. Styles’ home, William and Warren were told to get their suitcases ready for grandma and grandpa to pick them up the following morning.
Kit helped you put your bag on your shoulder, as she spoke, “We’re really excited about tomorrow. I hope you are too, Y/n.”
You smiled as you turned to look at her, “I am. A little nervous, I’ll admit.”
You were more than a little nervous.
“That’s okay. We are too. We’ll talk about everything tomorrow and go from there.”
Harry walked into the living room with you and Kit and there was just something different about him following that night he had you in his bed. It made you squirmy and intimidated. His eyes had always been intense but now they felt more severe. Daunting.
“So, tomorrow at 3 then?” He asked you as he raised his brows.
You nodded, “Yeah. I’ll be here.”
And from the moment you drove away from the Styles’ house until you knocked on their front door the following afternoon, you couldn’t get yourself to calm down or think about anything else.
You paced and talked out loud to yourself. You set up scenarios in your head and acted them all out, some of them turning you on quite a lot, you couldn’t lie. You practiced how you’d respond in certain situations. You took a long bath with salts and essential oils and got rid of as much hair as possible from your body so you’d be extra smooth.
You played your music loudly. You masturbated thinking about the way Harry fingered you. You picked the perfect outfit and panties. And you tried to sleep. But that was nearly impossible.
When you did finally wake up it was already noon. You’d slept in. Which shouldn’t have surprised you because you couldn’t get to sleep the night before. You jolted up from your bed and panicked as you ran into the bathroom to get the shower going. You couldn’t believe it was happening. You wondered what Harry and Kit were doing to prepare. Were they freaking out like you were? They both said they’d never done anything like this so they had to be at least a little nervous about everything.
Your soft pink lace bra and panties were your favorites. You didn’t wear them all the time but it felt like the appropriate affair to break them out.
At about 2 pm you received a text from Kit.
If you’d like, you can stay the night. We would be happy to have you all night.
That, you hadn’t expected. You had envisioned it being along the lines of you and the Styles getting finished up and then using their bathroom before an awkward goodbye and See you Monday (you really had thought of every scenario already).
But to stay the night? Would you sleep in their bed with them? Or would they offer you their guest room? Or the couch? You couldn’t imagine sleeping next to them all night. Of course, maybe that would be nice? You really didn’t know. It was hard to think with a clear brain when Harry was involved. The whole situation was wacky but the opportunity to be allowed to sleep with Harry and his pretty wife and have everything be just fine after (hypothetically) was simply not something you’d want to say no to.
.           .           .
Harry was nervous. He was trying to reign in his thoughts and his doubts. He didn’t want Kit to know how deep his worries ran. Because she seemed excited. She seemed far calmer than he felt.
He forced himself to eat breakfast and a light lunch so she didn’t question it. He didn’t know how things would play out once you arrived. And he tried not to imagine all the salacious things he’d been thinking about you in his private time.
When you’d finally arrived with your bag in hand and knots in your tummy Harry took deep breaths as Kit answered the door and hugged you in greeting.
“I hope you’re hungry! I’m making salmon and parmesan risotto.It’s my specialty and I think you’ll like it.” Kit led you to the kitchen where her husband stood and the moment he laid his eyes on you the smallest something ignited in him. It was only a spec of something but it was as if a layer of worry was wiped away instantly. Just seeing your pretty smile with your bag in hand had his mind swirling with thoughts of what might come. He realized part of him didn’t think you’d actually show up. But you did.
He tried leaning on Kit’s poise and mimicking her excited demeanor. On the way she seemed so calm but confident. That’s how it should have been for him. But the bigger parts of worry in him stemmed from the fact that his more dominant natural inclination was starting to peek through the cracks slowly. He’d even initiated something with Kit the night before, which she quickly shot down. He knew his wife was not one for being submissive. Or at least letting him take the reigns fully. But he knew Y/n would want it.
And worse yet, he hadn’t asked Kit if she’d mind if you called him Daddy. That was weighing heavy on him. He knew he should have talked to her about it days prior but there was part of him that worried she wouldn’t like that. He wasn’t sure how it would be brought up at that point but it would come out sooner or later he was positive. Especially with the way you seemed to love saying it.
“This looks so good, thank you, Mrs. Styles,” you smiled softly and looked from Harry to Kit and then back to the steaming pot ofrisotto. You weren’t sure you’d be able to eat much but you’d force something down. Your mind was jumbled and you felt tense.
But of course, this was something new for all of you. You’d all be going through this together and so you probably didn’t have much to worry about.
Harry took your little bag from your hand and his bright green eyes on you felt hot, “I’ll take this upstairs unless you need anything from it right now?”
You shook your head, “I don’t need it. Thank you, Mr. Styles.”
You had wanted to ask Harry what his wife thought about the whole Daddy thing but you hadn’t had the chance the rest of the week and even if you had you wouldn’t have been able to get the nerve up to ask.
“So, what are you thinking? What things are you into?” Kit asked as she handed you a glass of wine.
You leaned your hip into the counter and shrugged, “I don’t know. I think I like it when other people take the lead. I’m sort of, maybe a little submissive,” you laughed softly as you brought your glass up to your lips and looked at Kit. It was the first time you’d really taken her in since you’d arrived. She was wearing a pretty black lacey dress that fit her gorgeous body like it was made for her. Black heels, a smoothed back, high ponytail. Bright red lips, perfectly done eyeliner. Her cheekbones made you envious. You’d always noticed her cheekbones in the past. As well as Harry’s. Imagined they were made for one another. Two exquisitely stunning people.
Kit leaned against the counter next to you, her body turned toward yours, “That’s perfect for Harry and me. We’re both a bit dominant,” she sipped her glass and you watched her eyes trail down over your neck. You’d put on a pretty choker. Light pink small pearls to go with your sexy (you hoped) pink lacey underwear. Over it, you wore a lightweight cream sweater that was almost sheer with a short white skirt with a print of pink and yellow butterflies all over it. You felt underdressed compared to Kit. She looked like an adult and you looked like a child.
When Harry returned to the kitchen he poured himself a glass and looked at you and then to his wife, “What’d I miss?”
“Just asked Y/n what she likes. She’s going to let us take the lead. And look at his, H,” she gently put a slender finger under your pearl choker, “she’s perfect. I told you.”
Harry’s gaze felt so heavy on you. It felt like he was dissecting you with his eyes, “I think we’ll have a lot of fun together.”
A safe choice of words.
Dinner was quite delicious. Though you weren’t really that hungry, the wine you drank helped you feel a bit more comfortable, and sitting and chatting about normal things with Kit and Harry felt really good.
You helped clean up. Harry had put on some music and you were feeling loose from the wine so you were swaying the tiniest bit with the beat. When you felt hands at your hips you turned and it was Kit, swaying with you. She leaned her chin over your shoulder and spoke into your ear, “Leave the dishes. Those can wait. I think it’s time to get comfortable and talk. Come,” she pulled at you and you suddenly weren’t feeling as loose at the notion of talking.
Ground rules. Expectations. It was all necessary stuff.
You followed her into the living room where Harry was already sitting on the couch at one side. He gestured for you to sit next to him and Kit sat down on the opposite side, putting you in the middle.
The music was still playing as Kit turned toward you and put her arm up on the back of the couch, “Tell us your concerns. What things you absolutely do not like.”
You looked down at the coffee table where all three glasses of wine were sat and took a deep breath, “My concerns… I’m worried someone won’t like this after we start. Like,” you looked at Kit, “maybe you realize you don’t want anyone touching Harry. Or even if Harry doesn’t like to see you with anyone else? I just don’t want anyone to feel upset.”
Kit nodded, “A good point. I feel the same. I think we all do. We won’t know until we get into it but I think if there is anything anyone doesn’t like we need to be able to speak up about it. Agreed?”
You nodded, unsure if they wanted you to continue. That was the biggest concern of yours, sort of. You were worried about calling Harry Daddy when things got going. You were worried you would feel left out, which wasn’t fair of you to feel that way. Kit and Harry were married, after all. They’d certainly be paying the most attention to each other.
“Anything else? What things do you not like at all? What is a hard no for you?”
Harry had been quite silent since you all had sat down. But you were feeling heat pouring off of him. And you could tell he had his eyes on you.
“I mean… maybe if I think of some I’ll tell you? I haven’t done much, to be honest. Nothing stands out in my mind.”
“Do you like to be spanked? Or maybe restrained?” Kit raised her brows at you.
You shrugged, “I haven’t really been spanked before. Definitely not restrained.”
“You haven’t really been spanked?” Harry finally spoke up.
You turned to look at him but found you needed to look away quickly. He was too attractive.
“Well, once a guy sort of smacked at my bottom during… Like I was on top and…” you swallowed trying to calm yourself as you saw his hand move from his lap to the space between your thigh and his on the couch, “Like it was just really quick. Just once. So I wouldn’t say spanked but… yeah.”
“And did you like it?” He asked.
You looked at him and couldn’t help but feel yourself singe with warmth, “I didn’t mind it.”
“We’ll learn as we go,” Kit added.
Harry pulled his gaze away from you to his wife when she spoke and it was the first time you noticed it. His unease. It almost seemed like he’d forced himself to look away from you. Like the way you felt when you looked at him.
Kit reiterated that she agreed with you. That there would need to be open communication. She said that she liked to be dominant or at least to have most of the control.
“And I also like to be in control. To be dominant.” Harry said as he looked at Kit and then to you, “I also wanted to see if it was comfortable for you, Kit, if Y/n calls me Daddy.”
Kit looked to the coffee table quietly in thought and then looked at you, “Do you like that? To call your sexual partner Daddy?”
Your eyes widened at the question. You hadn’t expected that you’d answer this question. But you also assumed Harry had already spoken to Kit about it.
“Uh, well. Yeah, I think so.”
“Have you ever called anyone Daddy during a sexual encounter before? Are you comfortable with that?” Kit pressed.
You shot your sight to Harry and then back to Kit. How did you answer this? He obviously hadn’t told his wife that you were calling him Daddy that night and now you didn’t know if you should reveal that you already had. And Harry had been the only one you’d ever given that moniker to.
“I mean I’d like her to, but if she’s not comfortable with it we don’t have to do it, Y/n.” Harry quickly interrupted. You knew he was doing a bit of damage control. Perhaps that little thing would just be a secret between you and Harry. You were okay with that, you figured. You didn’t want him getting into trouble with Kit.
“Yeah. That’s fine. I don’t mind. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all.”
“Okay. Good. I’m okay with it, I think. We’ll feel it out and see if we like it,” Kit said, seemingly unbothered.
With the music playing you felt Harry’s pinky graze your bare thigh and Kit leaned forward to grab your glass of wine and hers, handing you yours.
“You smell so good, Y/n,” she said to you with a dreamy look on her face. “Doesn’t she, Harry?”
Sipping your wine you heard his deep voice from your right as he spoke, “She smells delicious.”
The change of the song and Harry’s pinky ghosting at your thigh and Kit’s closeness with her eyes on you had you feeling excited. Your heart began to lob in your chest, faster and faster.
Kit ran her finger up your neck, “You’re so shy. I really love it. Y/n, we’re going to make sure you have fun tonight.”
She got onto her knees and reached across you to pull at Harry’s hand and drew him in for a kiss. You watched them as they wound their mouths together right in front of you. You were smushed back into the couch with your eyes on their lips and watched their tongues meld and lick and heard Kit moaning.
When they parted Harry grabbed your empty glass of wine and placed it on the coffee table before he cradled the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. He wanted to feel your silky lips on his and he wanted to make sure you were included in the fun too. He would see to it you weren’t left out.
Kit watched her husband kissing you, their nanny with amazement. It was the first time she’d ever gotten to enjoy this sort of thing and she already loved it.
You felt Harry’s warm and wet mouth pull away from yours as Kit took over and pressed her lips to yours. The way it felt to have her mouth on yours versus Harry’s was night and day. Kit was soft and unmistakably feminine and you moaned as you reached up to pull your arms over her shoulders. With your body turned toward Kit you felt Harry’s big palm slide up your thigh and lift your skirt just a little before his chest was pressed into your back and his lips were on your neck.
“Can I mark your neck, sweet girl,” Harry groaned into your sensitive skin as Kit’s mouth moved with yours flawlessly.
“Yes, Daddy…” you breathed out the words and hadn’t even realized you said Daddy until the name hung in the air immediately after you’d said it. But no one seemed bothered. Kit only became more fervent and you felt her hand slip under your soft sweater.
“Can I touch you? Will you give us permission to touch your body and play with you now?” Kit panted her words before dotting kisses on your cheeks.
“Oh god. Yes, you can. Anything you want.” You meant it. If they wanted to touch your naked body or see it or tear your clothes off you were already so far gone you just wanted to please them. Everything was green for you so far.
You hissed softly and felt the pinch and sting of Harry’s lips at your neck as he marked you like he wanted.
Kit’s hand slid up your tummy to your pretty bra and she squeezed your plushy tit under her palm, “Just say if you don’t want something. Fuck you have such nice breasts, Y/n…” she leaned back and lifted your sweater before dipping down to kiss over the sheer lacy fabric over your nipples and you gasped.
Harry put his hand on your neck and turned your face toward him roughly, smearing his mouth against yours with a deep moan. You opened your mouth to let his tongue inside and you felt a drizzle of arousal pool into your panties. You loved the way it felt to have his big palm on your neck and his mouth ravaging yours while Kit’s lips and tongue worked over the flimsy fabric of your bra, wetting it and making your nipples hard underneath.
He could feel your delicate pearls under his palm as he used his thumb to squeeze you gently. But when he heard your tiny whimper his cock throbbed in his pants and he pulled at you, “We need to get her upstairs in bed.”
Kit grinned and the three of you awkwardly made your way upstairs. The moment you were in their bedroom Kit had her hands at your skirt, pulling at it, “Want this off of you. Okay? He’s had the chance to see your body but I haven’t yet. I’m dying to see you.”
Harry unbuttoned his shirt as he watched his wife remove your skirt and then peel off your little sweater. He walked up behind Kit and pulled at the bottom hem of her dress to pull it off, “Need you out of this too, Kitty.”
You’d never heard him call his wife Kitty before but it made sense now that you’d heard it.
The moment you saw Kit in her tiny black thong and her amazing tits out (she was sans bra) you dropped your mouth open. Her body was insane. She had a tattoo of a flowering tree on her ribcage and another at her hip with shooting stars. It fit her perfectly.
Harry put his hands on her shoulder as he stood behind her and kissed her neck, his eyes on yours.
“My tits need some love, Y/n. Come here,” she reached for you and it was easy to enjoy the way it felt to have a soft breast in your mouth. You sucked at her nipples and lapped your tongue over her skin with your hands cupping both sides, smushing your fingers in to really feel how soft and lovely it was. You couldn’t believe you’d never done anything with a girl before. You were certainly glad Harry and Kit were so forward.
Harry moved his position from behind his wife to behind you. You hadn’t expected to feel his hands at your bum, squeezing and pulling at your cheeks before giving you a soft smack.
You jolted slightly and looked up at Kit with a laugh.
Harry pressed his hips into your bottom against your pink lacy panties and groaned, “Beautiful ass.”
Kit grasped your jaw and pulled you in for another kiss. Soft and tranquil, wet and warm. There was an easy difference in the way a woman kissed than a man and you adored it.
You felt Harry’s hand at your bottom, pulling at your panties to slide into your crack to give him access to your full bottom. The sudden warmth and wetness against your bum cheek might have startled you more if he hadn’t given you a swat just moments prior. His mouth and tongue moved over your flesh slowly until he pasted a wet kiss right over where your panties were stuffed into your bottom.
He gripped your hips and pushed his face in further, soft lips kissing along where your panties were, “Gotta get these off, okay, Y/n? As pretty as they are,” he put his fingers into the band of your lacy panties and pulled them down your ass and legs and you continued kissing Kit with a wet, desperate tongue.
But you gasped and your eyes bounced open when Harry's mouth found your pussy from behind. He pulled your cheeks and put his mouth between them, licking over your labia. You couldn’t help but to turn to look behind you as best you could to watch his dark curls from behind you.
Kit’s hands slid to the back of your bra and unhooked your clasp to get you out of your bra, “Oh shit.” She took you in and delicately moved her hands over your tits, “Gorgeous.”
Harry stood up and pulled his shirt off his shoulders and then began to take his pants down and underwear. He was too hard in his pants to keep them on. He watched as Kit pulled you to the bed. Now that you were completely naked Kit wanted to see you spread out.
You were pushed to your back and she climbed between your legs, “Can I eat you out a little, Y/n? Missed eating pussy.”
You nodded quickly as Kit smirked at you and gave you one more soft kiss to your lips.
You saw Harry come up behind her and look down at you as his wife bent over to press her lips to your cunt. He looked from Kit’s ass to your face and pulled at her g-string to move it to the side as he pressed his fingers into Kit’s entrance, “So wet already, Kitty. You don’t get wet f’me like this.”
Harry’s strong and broad shoulders, the view of his dark tattoos scattered on his chest and arms made you wish Kit wasn’t in your way so you could see him unobstructed.
Kit moaned and lapped at your clit as she looked up at you, “I just love how she feels, H. I’m so horny looking at her body.”
Harry could agree with that assessment. He was already throbbing and he hadn’t even had his cock touched yet. Not that his wife couldn’t get him worked up but having you in the mix was exciting. New.
He fucked into his wife with his thick fingers from behind her slowly and loved the way you sounded when you moaned. He reached down to grip his cock and stroke himself as he looked at your pretty face. Moving his fingers from Kit’s pussy he slid his tip up and down her crease and she lifted and looked back at him, “Yes, H… fill me with that big dick.”
“Yeah? Want this big cock, baby?” He looked at you as he asked.
You moaned when Kit wrapped her lips around your clit again and you felt her fingers thrust into your soft, wet hole.   
Harry felt good plunging into Kit as always. She was familiar and welcoming. He knew exactly what to expect and exactly what she needed to get off. But this time, as familiar as Kit felt, it was so different as he thrust in and pulled back to his tip with his eyes on yours.
He began to rock into his wife and each thud into her pushed Kit into your pussy harder. Kit was bent down with her mouth on your cunt, her ass in the air at the edge of the bed while Harry stood, feet on the floor, and fucked his wife from behind. But he had a great view of your face and your tits. It almost felt like he was already fucking you with the way your eyes were locked on his.
The delicious surge of Kit’s fingers digging into your pussy and her tongue on your bud had you spinning. But it was Harry’s eyes on yours as he grunted with each roll of his hips that had you nearly at your end already.
Kit lifted and looked at you. When you felt her lips move away you quickly shot your gaze back to hers. She continued fingering you, “You gonna come for me, Y/n? Fuck!” She closed her eyes for a moment and pushed herself back onto Harry as she used her free hand to rub her clit, “God, right there, H.”
When Harry began to go in sharper, Kit placed her mouth back on your pussy and moaned at the way her husband was pounding into her. His deep thrusts were making her press into you.
He grasped Kit’s hips harshly and moaned at the view of his cock stretching his wife out and then looked back at you with your lips parted and your hands squeezing your tits together. Your neck elongated.
The sharp spike of stimulation made you cry out and you couldn’t stop the spiral in your tummy from tensing and twisting as you came. Soft wet lips on your clit and slender fingers pumping through your walls felt amazing. But when you heard Harry groan loudly as he began to come inside of Kit you opened your eyes to find his fixed on yours, mouth dropped open with deep breaths heaving from his picturesque chest.
You felt the final deep thrust as the last of his come drained from his cock into his wife as her mouth smashed into you.
You were both breathless as you came down from your orgasms. The eye contact felt intimate. You loved the way it made you feel connected to Harry and to his wife.
Harry grinned and watched as he slowly slid his cock out of Kit, pinching his fingers into her hips, “Y/n, would you like to eat my come from my wife’s pussy? How does that sound to you, sweet girl?”
You nodded and Kit lifted her face from your pussy slowly. Her own chest was heaving as she was so close to her orgasm, “I love that idea. Want to taste Harry dripping out of me, Y/n?”
You pushed yourself up by your elbows, “Yeah, how should I…?”
Kit crawled over you and pushed you down. She brought her cunt to right over your face and let a bit of Harry’s come trickle out onto your chin and your lips, “We’ll do it like this. Now eat.”
With that, she settled her pussy down onto your mouth and you closed your eyes as you sucked and tried to use your tongue the best you could. You tasted the saltiness of his come and the sharpness of Kit’s arousal mixed as you swallowed and pulled at her folds with your lips. The idea that you were getting to drink Harry’s come made you shiver in delight. You never imagined that you’d be swallowing his come down your throat.
When you felt a big, hot mouth dot kisses along the inside of your thigh and felt the grip of a big hand lifting your leg you were spurred on to lick and suck at Kit harder. You were reminded that there were three people in the room.
You felt Harry’s shoulders push against the back of your thighs and felt a deep vibration of something he mumbled against your pussy before his wide flat tongue licked upward before gently rolling your clit in his mouth, his slick muscle pressing and swirling over it.
The sensation of Harry eating you out in comparison to how Kit did it was night and day. Kit was warm and soft, precise. Harry was like a caveman starved, masculine, and messy. You could already feel the way he was smearing your arousal all around your pussylips and the crease of your thigh.
Kit began to rub at her clit as she brushed her pussy over your lips. Her essence was getting all over your face and you really kind of liked the taste. It wasn’t that different from yours, the smell and taste of it.
“Oh my god, baby, those lips,” she moaned and pinched at her nipples as she began to come.
You could feel her shaking and the way her pussy hole fluttered over your mouth, her hips jerking as she rode into your lips and bumped into your nose.
Meanwhile, Harry was moaning into your pussy and lapping at you like ice cream melting. When you felt the addition of his fingers gently poking past your slippery muscle you let out a muffled groan into Kit’s pussy.
Harry lifted your hips up further and dug in deeper. With the new angle, it felt different and you were unable to gain any leverage with your legs at all. You were totally at his mercy with any movement below the waist.
Kit lifted off and sighed, “Such a good girl, Y/n. How was that?”
You gasped and tried your best to respond while your pussy was getting wrecked with Harry’s mouth and fingers, “I like… really liked it!”
Kit softly ran a finger up your neck and to your cheekbone, “Yeah? For a first time that was good. I think we’ll need more practice but that can be arranged. Can’t it, H?”
Harry grunted and smeared his mouth against your clit. You couldn’t hear it if he responded or not but then when Kit moved away you watched as she grasped Harry’s hair and pulled him off your pussy, “Right, Harry?”
He looked dazed as he darted his eyes from his wife to you, “What?”
“Is her pussy that good that you couldn’t hear me?” Kit laughed.
You saw Harry gulp as he stood up and it was the first time you noticed the big tiger tattoo on his left thigh and the laurels on his hips. He was a piece of art, “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I said we could arrange to do this again,” Kit sat back onto her haunches as she looked at her husband.
“Yeah. If Y/n wants.”
Kit looked at you and back to Harry, “So what do we think? Need a break? Are we ready to relax? We’ve all had our orgasms.”
Inwardly you pouted and wanted to throw a fit. You had come but you really really wanted to suck Harry off and have him fuck you. You wouldn’t mind eating Kit out again, but you felt you weren’t done with Harry. Needed a little more.
Harry laughed, “Ready to relax? Kitty, I’m just getting started. I kind of hoped I’d be able to have you choking on my cock or something,” his cocky grin beamed at his wife.
“Choke on your cock? Maybe I’ll let you choke on my dildo. You know I don’t do that. If Y/n wants to she’s welcome to it.”
You sat up and looked from Harry to his wife as they discussed what would come next. Harry looked you up and down like you were going to be an indulgent meal, “Want my dick in your mouth, sweet girl?” Harry gripped his shaft and slowly slid his hand up and down. He was only half-hard. He needed a minute to get back to full mast after his orgasm.
“Yes. I would really like that, Harry.” You looked from Harry to Kit to make sure everyone was on board.
“I think you mean Daddy. Right?” Harry’s stern voice had you sitting up straight.
“Yes, Daddy. I want it.”
Kit softly moaned, “She’s such a sweet girl, Harry. Enjoy your blowie. Mind if I get some water? I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”
Harry kept his eyes on you, “Go on. We’ll be fine. Right, Y/n?”
You nodded, “Yes, Daddy.”
Kit paused and looked from you to her husband but then shook off the tiny alarm going off in her head before leaving you two alone.
“Get down here. On your knees. I’ll take it easy on you.”
You climbed off the bed and got to your knees. Harry pumped his dick right over your face and reached down with his free hand to grasp your neck to pull at you, making you sit up further, “Your pearls are so sweet. Did you dress up just for, Daddy?”
“I did. Wanted to be cute for you.” You smiled at him with wide eyes.
“Cutest thing I’ve ever seen, Y/n. Now, get it all wet. Lick all around. I want to get nice and hard for your throat. And maybe if Kitty doesn’t mind, she’ll let me fuck you. Would you like that?”
Your heart pounded as you looked up at Harry and nodded, “Yes, Daddy. Really want to feel you.”
You began to tongue along Harry's long shaft. From the base where he had trimmed dark hair to his tip. You plopped your lips around his crown and gently sucked, making him hiss before you dragged your tongue down to his base and back up again to wet every inch of his girth. You were amazed at the sounds coming from him. Soft and whimpery. You lowered your mouth to his sack and smoothed your tongue and lips along the skin before opening wide and pulling half into your mouth.
“Fucking angel. Shit, I love that.”
You noted his reaction to your mouth on his balls. To save for another day.
When you drew your tongue upward again, along his length you felt him plump. His cock grew harder and harder until he was rigid and completely ready for fucking again.
“Now suck on it,” he pressed the back of your head to urge you down over him.
You wrapped your lips around his head, saliva pooling at your tongue and dripping down his cock as you slowly began to take him in your mouth. Deeper and deeper. He was thick, though and you were concerned your mouth wasn’t big enough or that your teeth would graze his skin. But you pressed on, doing your very best.
He kept his hand at the back of your head and helped gently guide you down, “Come on. You can get a little more in there, baby. Fucking so good with that mouth.”
You felt his tip nudging at the roof of your mouth and slip in close to your tonsils and you gurgled, swallowing around his tip and making him choke out a loud moan.
You did it again, loving the way he responded and you felt him slip in deeper, yet you still hadn’t gotten him all in. He was likely a bit too long for you to take him all. You’d need practice.
The sound of you gagging wetly and Harry groaning filled the room as your eyes watered.
“Jesus Christ, Y/n!” Harry watched your lips as they parted around his cock, drooling down your chin.
You could hear Kit when she came back. She’d said something but you were so fixated on Harry’s cock and making him feel good that your brain was fuzzy and out of focus. The only thing that mattered was making Harry feel good and you couldn’t care about anything else.
The grip he had on the back of your head and the way his hips were moving felt like he was enjoying you as you wetly spluttered on his cock as it grazed the back of your throat.
When Harry pulled you off you sat back and looked up at him expectantly. Harry kept his eyes on you. He looked like he was proud of you as he spoke, “Kitty? Can I fuck this sweet thing? Want to feel to her around my cock.”
You watched Harry as Kit answered, “Okay. I think that sounds hot. Just use a condom, though. Is that okay with you, Y/n?”
You nodded, still focused on Harry, “Yes.”
Kit led you to the bed to lie on your back and kissed you softly, “I’ll play with you a little and probably kiss Harry too while he’s fucking you. Is that okay?”
You finally looked at Kit, breaking the spell you were under with Harry, “That’s fine. Yeah.” You nodded.
“And if we do this again maybe I can wear a strap-on and fuck you too.” Kit raised her brows.
You nodded and smiled. Harry was busy putting a condom on as he listened to his wife talking to you. He hated to admit it to himself, but he loved it when Kit stepped out of the room for a bit. He felt freer to express himself with her gone. Was less worried about sounding like he was preferring Y/n to her.
But he wondered if once he got his cock inside of you how he’d feel. Would he be able to overcome the way he wanted to just dominate you and claim you for himself? It was a slippery slope what was happening but he was freefalling into his dominant persona with you and it felt odd having his wife watch it all. He hoped he didn’t get too into it and lose track of what was really happening.
Harry crawled onto the bed between your legs and thumbed at your clit as he watched Kit kiss you. He wanted to kiss you. Wanted to start off nicely with a warm kiss and push into you that way. So he waited while his wife groped your tits and licked into your mouth.
You reached down to Harry’s hand, where his thumb was at your bud and you bucked your hips upward. He had the most gorgeous view of your wet pussy, just waiting and ready to stretch open for his cock.
When Kit finally pulled her mouth away Harry leaned over you, “I’m gonna kiss her for a bit, Kit. If you don’t mind,” and then he pasted his mouth against yours and lined his cock up with your entrance.
When you felt him push past your tight muscle you could have cried. He was wide and long and you were so wet and he began to thrust in and slowly, his mouth devouring yours. He went in with long strokes, sinking in until he couldn’t push in any further. His muscles working into you, thighs and bottom and back flexing and indulging.
Harry lifted his face from yours to look down at you, cupping your jaw, “You doing okay?”
Your mouth was wide open as you nodded, “So good, Daddy.”
Harry cooed at you as he began to fuck into you harder, making your tits wobble with the force.
Kit leaned over you and began to kiss you again but you could hardly kiss back with the way your pussy was being pounded into and the sound of Harry’s groans were all you could focus on. He liked your pussy, you could tell. And that had your heart singing and your body buzzing.
He loved how your pussy looked wrapped around his cock, tight and juicy as he pushed in and brought himself back to the tip before ramming into you again. He wanted Kit out of the way so he could see your face but he knew he couldn’t ask her to move. She was going to be part of this.
But when he dipped in especially deep, the puffy head of his cock nudging into your cervix and hitting your g-spot with each stroke you gasped and moaned loudly, making Kit move back.
“Daddy!” You howled as Harry panted and repeated what he’d just done. You squealed and threw your head back. It felt so good. He was pushing into your guts and breathing heavily over you.
Harry was glad he’d already come so he could last a bit longer with you. He wanted to drag it out. Really get to fuck you properly and feel you. It was lush being inside of you and hearing your pretty voice respond to him.
“Like Daddy’s cock, baby?” He spoke between gritted teeth as he pushed your thighs into your chest and leaned over you, nearly folding you in half so Kit couldn’t interrupt again. He was getting hot and dizzy for you. Wanted you all to himself.
“It’s the best! Oh fuck!! I love it. I want it… oooh! Need you so bad, Daddy!” You weren’t really sure what words came from your mouth as he pushed into you at the new angle, but all you knew was that your entire world was Harry. Harry… Harry… Harry… He was on you and in and he liked it. You were making him feel good.
“Need me, baby? Need this cock inside your little pussy?”
Harry’s balls were aching as he nudged into you, his sac pressed into your bum each time he bottomed out.
“Yes…” your voice was shaky and breathy as he railed you into the mattress.
Harry let go of your legs to lean over you and press his mouth against yours once again. Wet and hard, teeth scraping and moans of debauchery.
“Need you too, baby. Needed this fucking pussy. You gonna let Daddy own this pussy, baby?”
“Oh god, yes Daddy! This pussy is yours!” You whined.
Kit was at the edge of the bed watching the spectacle and she was quite turned on by the scene. She gently rubbed her pussy as she watched her husband railing you but the words spoken between you and Harry had her feeling a bit weird. She knew she should call a time out but she wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. You were in throws of passion, she tried to reason.
“Holy shit, Y/n!” Harry moaned as he felt you begin to squeeze around him. His pelvis rubbed into your clit and the little sparkles of your orgasm started to grow and grow with each yummy thrust into your clenching walls. His cock spread you wide and his pelvis smeared into your bud as if his body was made for you. The angle was exquisite. Harry thought so too.
“Coming on Daddy’s cock, Y/n? Fucking creaming all over me baby.” He let his strokes go long and deep and languid as he hovered over you, his arms and back flexing as he rolled into you.
You were stunned and unable to speak for moments on end. Your vision went blank and your ears fuzzed out with a ringing white noise that blocked all sound.
Harry moaned a laugh at how hard you were coming, “Feels good doesn’t it baby? Cock is made for you…” his deep thick voice gave away that he was about to come. Kit recognized it.
“Don’t come inside of her. Even with a condom,” Kit sat up and watched closely as you finally gasped and cried out. For some reason the idea of her husband coming, even if inside a condom, while balls deep in another woman didn’t feel right.
Harry groaned and closed his eyes. He wished he would have known before but of course, Kit hadn’t even been sure that was something she didn’t want.
He kept working into you, letting you ride out your orgasm as you moaned and babbled Daddy, yes Daddy over and over again.
When your eyes finally peeled open Harry had slowed his thrusts and he dipped down to kiss you. It was messy and wet. He was on edge, his orgasm so close his balls were vibrating.
He looked down at you and thumbed over your cheek, “Flip over for Daddy. Gonna fuck you from behind and come on your back okay?”
You moaned and nodded as Harry pulled out and watched you lay on your tummy, ass nudged up.
Harry looked at Kit, “Not gonna come inside her. Don’t worry.”
He smoothed his hands over your ass and squeezed, parting your cheeks as he lifted your hips slightly to angle you up for his cock.
Harry pressed back into you, both of you sighing in relief, “Thank you, Daddy…” you mumbled into the comforter.
“Rub your pussy for, Daddy. Want you to feel good, baby.”
You did as he said, reaching your hand down between your body and the mattress as you fingered over your clit and Harry’s loud grunts were timed with each of his strokes into you.
His hips were slapping into your bottom and the tightness of your cunt around him and the view of your pretty anus was like fine art. It was slushy and wet.
You pushed back against him and felt saliva stream out of your mouth onto the bed below.
“Want your come, Daddy,” you quickly slicked your fingers back and forth along your clit as Harry’s masculine moans grew deeper and louder as he neared his end. “Please, Daddy!”
Harry watched his cock disappear into you over and over again, “Want my come, baby? Deep inside your cunt? Want to be stuffed with it?”
You nodded into the mattress, “Yes…” you whined.
“Sounds so fucking good,” Harry cooed as he began to tremble. His arms grew wobbly as his balls tightened. His cock twitched and pulsed and he quickly pulled out, ripping his condom off before spurts of his come started to pump from his dick. He wrapped his fist around himself and milked his shaft, pouring all over your back as he used his free hand to keep your cheeks spread apart. In a daring move, he released the last bit of himself over your ass and pussy as he loudly choked out a moan.
With his chest heaving and your ass swaying back toward him in hopes of him pushing his come inside of you the voice of Kit pulled you from your dreamy haze.
“Get up.” She did not sound as happy as she had been not long before.
Harry removed himself from your body and you pushed yourself up and turned to look at them.
“That’s not what I meant when I said don’t come in her. Coming on her back was okay but then on her pussy like that? You should have asked me first.”
Harry looked at you with his come all over you and back to his wife, “Sorry, Kit. It was all just in the moment. I shouldn’t have come on her like that.”
“I just… I don’t know. We need to talk about this more I think. But not with her here.” She gestured to you.
You were sort of stuck with your ass in the air, unable to move much because of Harry’s come on your back.
“Okay. That’s fine. We’ll talk. Let me clean her up,” Harry pointed at you.
“She can clean herself up. We don’t need to baby her, Harry.”
“Come on, Kit. She deserves to be treated nicely. And it’s on her back. She needs help.”
Kit suddenly walked away and Harry leaned onto the bed to look at you, “Are you okay?” He put his hand on the back of your thigh.
“Yeah. I’m okay. I didn’t mean to make her mad.”
Harry looked over his shoulder and back at you, “She’s not mad, sweetheart. This is all new for us so she just needs a minute. I’ll be right back with a towel okay?”
You felt a burning embarrassment slither down your spine at the idea that Kit didn’t like something you’d done. It was exactly that thing you had wanted to avoid. You loved being with Harry and Kit but you knew you let yourself get lost with Harry and you went too far. You’d fucked everything up and now you were surely going to lose your job and Kit would hate you forever.
Harry got back onto the bed with you and gently wiped at your back, “Don’t worry about anything. You did nothing wrong, Y/n. Okay?”
You nodded and kept your eyes cast down over the comforter in shame. Nothing felt good anymore. You were humiliated. And even though Harry said you’d done nothing wrong it didn’t feel that way.
You put your clothes on silently as Harry slid on his pants and Kit returned, “I want her to go home.”
Harry stood quietly as he looked at Kit in her robe. You let your sight flit between Harry and his wife and noticed the way Harry looked like he was fuming. Pissed.
“Absolutely not. We invited her to stay. She didn’t do anything wrong, Kit. What is wrong with you?”
“I want to talk and I don’t think I can do it with her anywhere near me.”
“Why are you talking about her like she’s not standing right here?” He gestured at you.
Kit sighed and looked down, “I don’t feel comfortable, Harry.”
A scoff fell from his lips, “Well geez. Just imagine how she feels.”
Kit looked at Harry with a scrunched brow, “Are her feelings somehow more important than your own wife’s right now?”
Harry shook his head and ran his hands over his face, “I’m not saying that. I’m saying hers are just as important as yours. She’s a human, Kit. Fuck.”
Kit left the room again, stomping as she walked into the hallway.
Harry turned and stepped in front of you, taking your hands in his, “I’m sorry about this. I didn’t know she would act this way. I’ll get the guest room set for you but you can’t drive after all that wine we drank and I’m not letting you take an Uber home alone at this hour.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind. I’ve never had any bad experiences with Uber drivers-“
“No fucking way I’m allowing it. You’re staying here and that’s final.”
Harry walked out of the bedroom and you plucked up your bra and panties that were lying on the floor and followed him to the guest room.
But you stopped before you went inside when you heard him and Kit arguing quietly.
“That was too intimate, Harry. Her asking for your come and you saying how good that sounded. Saying your cock is made for her? Fuck.”
“Kit, we were having sex. I can hardly remember what things were said to be honest. I was caught up in the moment.”
“I shouldn’t have let you fuck her.”
“Maybe not, but it’s done. Too late to take it back now. Jesus.”
“I don’t want her here. Now all I can think about is the way you two were just ignoring me and enjoying each other. I was completely left out there at the end.”
“I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry.”
Kit sighed, “Me too. I feel disgusted. You should sleep on the couch tonight.”
“Come on, Kit. Don’t be like this. You know we were all just having fun.”
Kit walked out of the bedroom and stopped when she saw you. The look she gave you told you to keep your mouth closed and move out of her way. It felt like a threat. A warning.
You stood silently in the hallway as Harry made up your bed and you felt tears stream down your face. Kit suddenly walked up to you and handed you your bag roughly before walking back to her bedroom and closing the door behind her.
Harry peeked out of the room and saw you standing with your bag in your arms and tears in your eyes.
His heart dropped as he pulled you into the bedroom and wrapped his arms around you, one hand cradling the back of your head as he shushed you, “Don’t let her get to you, baby. Please don’t cry. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
You gulped and the softness of Harry with his arms around you made you cry harder. You tried to stop your tears but everything had really just made you so overly emotional. You’d gone from ecstasy straight to shame and humiliation.
He rocked you gently back and forth and kissed the top of your head, “I didn’t even get to love on you after. I’m so sorry. I wanted to make it so special for you and it was ruined. Please don’t be upset. I’ll make sure Kit’s okay by the morning, okay sweetheart?” Harry held you out in. his arms and looked at you. He thumbed at the tears under your eye and you blinked up at him.
“Fuck,” he whispered as he leaned in and kissed your forehead.
Leading you to the bed he pulled the blankets down and patted at the mattress, “I’d help you change into your night clothes but I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to do that right now. Are you gonna be okay in here? The bathroom is right there,” he pointed at the ensuite guest bathroom. “Towels are in the closet. I’m gonna go and talk to Kit and see if I can calm her down. Text me if you need anything. Okay?”
You nodded with a pout. You were doing your best to hold your stupid tears in as Harry hugged you again and then stopped at the doorway and turned to smile at you sheepishly before closing the door and leaving you cold and alone and shattered.
Part 3
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forlix · 1 year
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𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 !・h.h.
— you’re just trying to do your job; your client has other ideas.
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𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬・1.3k 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠・idol!hyunjin x gn!makeup artist!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・very suggestive so mdni, reader implied to be shorter than hyunjin 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬・fluff, flirting, humor, big fwb vibes
𝐚/𝐧・this took me less than half an hour to write i am actually the biggest sucker for this trope. also, we hit another milestone recently!! i appreciate all of you immensely; look forward to more ♡
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[!]・hi hey hello as of one month later a full-length fic based on this au has been posted!! here it is; you can read the two in any order. ok bye much love
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“Five ‘til!” A crew member calls into a walkie-talkie, and you’re so surprised by this information that you stumble right over him, your heel ungracefully ramming into the poor man’s toes. 
You apologize hurriedly, bowing yourself out of the awkward situation—and then you check your watch. 7:55 P.M. A quiet "shit" leaves your lips as it dawns on you that you'd completely lost track of time.
Briefly, you contemplate your predicament, drumming the palette of makeup you’re holding in your right hand against the palm of your left: do I have to? Is it really necessary? But you know your answer even as you’re asking yourself the questions. You’re damn meticulous—sometimes to a fault, but always to your own satisfaction.
You had a vision, and you’re going to see it through.
With impeccable timing, your coworker appears out of nowhere, and you fasten a hand around her arm. “Hey, where are the members again?”
“Stage left.” Then she registers your question in full, and snaps her eyes to your face; stylists were supposed to have finished up with their respective members nearly an hour ago. “Hang on, are you out of your mind—”
“I won’t be a minute!” You call, scurrying away.
“You won’t be employed!” She returns, but you’ve already disappeared into the curtains’ dense shadows.
You jog a short distance, turn a few corners, and finally spot the eight members clad in outfits of varying amounts of silver and black, every inch of them so sparkly that they’re reflective, even with how little light reaches this part of the stage.
You’re looking for one man in particular, though, and you single him out right away: long, black locks falling into his eyes as he adjusts his microphone, broad shoulders and tall frame flattered perfectly by an obsidian suit, looking like he fell off a Paris Fashion Week runway and into a wormhole that teleported him to Osaka.
All your doing, by the way.
“Hwang Hyunjin!” You shout, and he (along with several of the other members) whips around at the sound. And Hyunjin furrows a perfect brow when his stylist materializes before him, four minutes to curtain up, wielding a palette of makeup like it’s a baseball bat.
“Are you out of your mind?” He calls.
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” You lift a pointer finger into the air and curl it twice. “Come here. Hurry."
Hyunjin gives the others an apologetic glance before hurrying over, and you are met with a blast of Byredo Blanche when he arrives in front of you, the expression on his face equal parts amused and confused.
“Down,” you say, flicking open the eyeshadow palette with one hand.
And then Hyunjin understands. A loud, uninhibited laugh leaves his lips, a sound you’ve become so accustomed to by now that you’re completely oblivious to the fact that only you bring it out of him.
“You really are something,” he says, spreading his feet apart until he’s brought himself to your eye level.
With that, you get to work, one hand gathering some eyeshadow on the pads of your fingers, the other moving to hold his shoulder. Brushes are luxuries you can’t afford right now.
“Close your eyes,” you direct, your voice softer now that your face is only inches away from his, and Hyunjin heeds your words obediently. You begin to dab the crimson powder against the curve of his lids, careful to avoid messing up the rest of his eye makeup. His lashes flutter involuntarily at your gentle touch.
“A shadow to match the lip,” you murmur absently. “I pictured it and knew it had to happen."
Hyunjin makes a sound of approval, and then there is that smirk on his face, the one you’ve learned only means trouble. “You’ve been thinking about my face the whole night, then?”
“No. I’ve been thinking about whether vegetables can feel pain,” you deadpan. “Yes, I've been thinking about your face. It’s my job.”
“Is that all?”
“Sure is.” You blow gently on his finished eye and move on to the other. “Now save your voice for the stage.”
He obliges, but that dreadful, self-assured expression remains on his face, and you're immeasurably grateful that he can’t see the blush that you’re well aware paints your cheeks.
“Done,” you say a minute later, straightening with a confident flourish. And you think you could squeal when Hyunjin opens his eyes, and you see that the exact effect you’d hoped for has been realized: a splash of maroon that is both subtle and seductive, sleek and suave; that not only accentuates the shape of his eyes but pulls attention to his lips, which are dyed a similar hue. Damn, you’re good at your job.
“I don’t have a mirror,” you say, looking around. “I can use my phone if you want to—”
“It’s fine,” he says. “I trust you.”
You grin at this. “Good. Because you look sexy as hell."
Upon hearing your words, he straightens to his full height. You don’t think much of this at first, too busy re-examining the masterpiece you’ve created on his eyelids, but in the blink of an eye you’re suddenly aware that Hyunjin is standing conspicuously and intentionally close to you. You instinctively move away, but you’re too late; he’s already guiding your back to the wall behind you, his body enclosing yours against the smooth surface.
You send a panicked look over Hyunjin’s shoulder, only to realize that the two of you are completely out of anyone’s line of vision. That doesn’t stop the sharp hiss that leaves your lips: “Hyunjin, are you cr—”
But then there is a familiar gust of breath against your skin, a thumb over your cheekbone.
He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself when you get like this; all bossy and concentrated, an ambitious glint in your eyes, an air of confidence in your gait. He always thinks it’s ironic that your job is to make him look good when all he’s ever done is admire your beauty, so effortless and profuse that it feels timeless, like freshly bloomed forget-me-nots.
He knows he shouldn’t—but that makes him want to more.
When your lips meet, they move together with an ease and familiarity that reveal how many times you’ve done this before. He brings a hand to the small of your back, and you tangle your stained fingers in his luscious hair, the delicious pressure of his mouth upon yours rendering your reluctance (and the eyeshadow palette, which clatters noisily to the floor) momentarily forgotten.
As the kiss deepens, the bridges of your noses slide together; your every sense becomes overwhelmed by the slippery plush of his full lips and the warm caress of his large hands; you drink in the rosy musk of his cologne like your cells need it to live as opposed to oxygen. The tip of Hyunjin’s tongue teases the seam of your lips, as if requesting access, and you grant it to him with a light moan that is both blissful and thoroughly exasperated. When he hears the gorgeous sound, he has half a mind to scoop you up and leave the venue then and there.
Then, a voice bellows from not too far away: “One minute, everyone! Places, places!”
You’re so startled that you not only break away from him but jump a meter into the air, giving Hyunjin’s bicep a hearty slap on your way down. But he is entirely unbothered, dipping his head to press a trail of light kisses along your jaw instead.
“You’ll be watching the performance, yes?” He murmurs against the sensitive skin.
“Of course, what else—”
“—don’t take your eyes off me.”
And the words throw your heart against your ribs like uncooked French fries in a vat of oil.
He is just about to walk away when you realize how decidedly disheveled you’ve left him, and you yank him back to you with a fresh wave of panic. You wipe at his smudged lipstick with the cuffs of your sleeves; nitpick his hair until every strand is back in its proper place. Only when you’ve gotten rid of all the incriminating evidence do you permit him to leave.
“Thank you very much,” he says, bending into a gracious bow, the perfect image of professionalism. The facade is given away only by the upturned corner of his still-flushed lips.
“Break a leg,” you return drily.
The last thing you hear is that stupid, bright laugh before Hyunjin rejoins his members, and they step into the strobe lights together.
Even when the concert begins and the stadium is drowned in fanatical screams, the heartbeat in your ears remains the loudest sound of all—and you bury your burning face in your hands.
Hwang Hyunjin will be the death of you.
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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.
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malereadermaniac · 4 months
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Innocent ~ Natsumi x Male Reader
The tall, handsome man has surprisingly little experience, he's too innocent to understand why he's so drawn to you Top!Natsumi x Bottom!Reader word count: 2.7k Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI Cw: blowjob (giving), Fingering (receiving), Heat = sweat kink, body worship (recieving), Praise (recieving), feet, scent kink
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The sun had been scorching all campers since it dawned this morning, most campers having to pour water on their heads or go shirtless the whole day to avoid heatstroke. Your activity for the day was simple, bake! You and Hiro were really the only two competent men in your cabin when it came to baking, so you two decided on a recipe and gave out a task to everyone; the recipe? Apple pie. The task wasn't simply to just bake, it was to find ingredients and make everything from scratch, and both you and Hiro knew that there were apple trees in the forest behind you cabin. And so, that's how you ended up with Natsumi all alone, tasked with bringing back a few apples back to your cabin - two people necessary due to the height of the trees.
Chatting on your hunt for apples was enjoyable, Natsumi was definitely your favourite cabin-mate, organised and not too shabby looking, but his personality and kind-hearted personality is what made you enjoy his presence. The tall man also loved spending time with you, he was friendly with everyone by nature but when it came to you, Natsumi just felt as if you he needed you to be a close friend; not just someone he politely waved or smile to from time to time. But your friendliness with each other did seem to walk on the line between romantic and platonic feelings...
Take for example the fact that on your walk towards the apple trees, you have had to force your eyes away from Natsumi's slim-fit build at least 5 times already; his quite large muscles on his arms and his heard abs sweating and shining from the searing sun, it made your heart skip multiple beats. But whilst you faced your small feelings for the handsome swimmer, he did not. Not because he didn't like you or want to! But rather, Natsumi as a person isn't that great with romantic or sexual feelings... Which has not only led to the poor man questioning his seemingly random affinity for you, but also popping quite a few boners around you.
Speaking of which (the boners and the feelings that is) was occurring right this very second. Once you two had found some trees with actual apples on them you had to figure out how to reach them.
"Wanna get on my shoulders or should I get on yours?" You ask, a s mile on your had as you tilt your head in a questioning manner
"U-Uhm.. You can get on my... my shoulders!" Natsumi stutters out, unusual for his well-spoken self, a blush also adorning his face - but he just put that down to the heat.
You chuckle at the handsome man's response. You weren't a narcissist or anything, but you knew that you were definitely above average in terms of looks - so you were used to guys being a little nervous around you, you found it cute. You also understood why Natsumi was continuing to stutter when you had made it onto his broad shoulders, your plump and boiling, sweaty thighs enveloping Natsumi's tan face. The feeling of you on him, around him, along with the feeling of your crotch rubbing against his head as you reached back and forth for the apple easily resulted in a lot of blood rushing south of the innocent man - Natsumi blushing profusely at the situation and at the embarrassment of popping a boner in this moment. After getting down off of the muscular man, you noticed it (the massive tent in his shorts that is), but you didn't mention it - Natsumi's face already beat red and the handsome man avoiding looking into your eyes, you felt it was a little unnecessary to call it out. That doesn't mean that you didn't take a note of it, though, or that the fact that your camp crush clearly had some sort of feelings for you.
After gathering a couple of apples and making your way back to the camp, you watched as Natsumi headed straight to his bed and 'smoothly' (very not smoothly) use a pillow to hide his little (big) problem. None of the others noticed though, so you all continued on with baking; a soft blush on your face when you noticed the navy haired man staring at you the entire length of the task. With the pie baked, the others left to hand it in, leaving you all alone in the cabin with a still very embarrassed Natsumi. With the temperature still incredibly high, the two of you were half-naked, skin shiny from the beads of sweat on your bodies - you couldn't help but throw a few glances Natsumi's way, his rock-hard abs glimmering so sexily, along with his pecs and obvious V-line. Natsumi on the other hand literally could not take his eyes off of you...
The way that your sweat shined so beautifully on your (s/t) skin, beads of sweat running along your abdomen as you sexily stretch out on your bed - fuck man... Natsumi's problem had hardened ten fold! When you catch his eyes with yours, you flash him a warm smile, chuckling at the soft pink hue on his usually tan face. "ya know... you don't have to be embarrassed about it" You say, lifting your upper body off of your bed in an upward dog pose; your nipples out for Natsumi to ogle at, along with your sexy arms and brief showing of your abdomen "A-About what?" The flustered man responds, his sharp jawline being shown off as Natsumi turns his head away from you, unable to comprehend why he felt his stomach do backflips whenever he looks at you "Your little... hah... big friend~ It's perfectly natural" You say with a smile, pointing at his poorly hidden boner in Natsumi's khaki shorts The man short circuits at your words. Not only did you just outright mention it, but did you just compliment him?? Now, Natsumi isn't experienced at all, he doesn't understand shit like this or whether or not having a big dick was good or bad... But the tone you used? The comforting smile on your face? Your personality and words could make this man cum alone!
A silence fills the warm cabin, not an awkward silence, but a silence no doubt. That is until your soft voice breaks the thick, sexual tension once more "Want me to help you out?" You ask, working up the courage to make the first move on mr. perfect "How would you do that, (Y/n)?" Natsumi retorts after a moment of pondering, his eyes glued to yours You chuckle back at Natsumi and stand up from your bed, making your way over to the muscular swimmer. Receiving a quick nod from the sheepish man after mumbling 'lemme take the lead...', you go ahead and hold yourself above your shirtless camp-mate; trapping the inexperienced man below you, watching as Natsumi's eyes wander your shirtless body, down to your crotch and back up to your soft face. 'can I kiss you?' you say with a smile, to which Natsumi replies 'O-Of course', his eyes glued onto your soft looking lips. With that, you lowered your face to the sharp-featured one below you, you soft lips pushing against Natsumi's as you took control. It didn't take long for the innocent man to be whimpering into your moan, a few moans escaping his lips from your knee rubbing against his hard dick. Although you didn't want to rush the soft moment, Natsumi was becoming more desperate by the moment, which led to his tongue dancing in a tango with yours as the handsome virgin below you moaned and groaned into your mouth. Your hands roamed the tan man's muscular body as you made-out with him, your thumbs playing with his perky nipples, your palm running along his strong abs and hips as your other held you up above him.
Eventually, you pulled away. Panting above Natsumi, you watched as the man desperately tried to reach your addictive lips once more, his hips humping so sexily against your knee - who knew it would be so hot to hold the reigns once in a while! To soothe the horny man below you, you began trailing down his hot, sweaty body with soft kisses; worshiping his tanned, muscular, slim, masculine body with soft praises and kisses. You made yourself comfortable between Natsumi's legs, resting your head cutely against his muscular thigh, hand running up and down his leg, ever so close to his twitching, clothed cock. Teasing Natsumi resulted in sexy whines accidentally erupting from the man's throat, his eyes glued onto you, pleading with you to do more as you rub your nose gently against his covered hard-on - his briefs absolutely drenched in his sweat and musky scent. But you weren't that mean, so you gave in to Natsumi's needs and pulled down his tight underwear, revealing his fucking massive cock. To say it shocked you would be an understatement. You were surprised that the man was a virgin with a weapon like this between his legs, but whatever, you didn't like to share.
The air in the room had gotten even hotter, aided by Natsumi's heavy, hot pants as he moaned like never before. Natsumi had never even really masturbated before, so a blowjob actually rocked his world! Your eyes were glued to Natsumi's flushed complexion and sweaty body as you sloppily sucked his veiny cock; the man too big to easily deepthroat, so you decided on sloppily licking at and sucking on his cute pink tip and veiny, and jacking off whatever your mouth struggled to reach. Natsumi's moans alone could make you cum, the man sounding so sexy as he moaned incoherent words along with your name so incredibly loud, with such evident pleasure dripping off of his voice. Natsumi's words were also incredible, praises falling off of his tongue would feed your ego and your dick so, so much - constant praises of your beauty/looks, your skill, and how good you were making him feel; it was all so fucking hot! But it wasn't just his moans and praises, Natsumi's body was contorting in pleasure, his hands in your hair tightly pulling you onto his dick as his knees were raised, his feet on either side of your head as his thighs encapsulated your head. Fuck man, sucking off Natsumi was more pleasurable than being fucked by some of your past flings! It didn't take long for Natsumi to cum, he had been holding back so well, but one look at your panting face, your tongue out so sexily with spit and precum rolling down your chin was enough to send Natsumi way over the edge. Tightening his masculine fingers in your hair, Natsumi groaned a deep "(Y/n)" and pulled you with all of his might onto his dick, forcing your face to smash against his pelvis, his pubes stuffing your nose and his massive cock going fully down your throat. You chocked on the massive man's cock, doing your best to relax your throat to be able to breath as Natsumi shot what felt like gallons of his thick, hot cum down your throat; the white substance shooting directly down your throat, pooling within your mouth and even spilling down your chin - this man was pent the fuck UP.
After coming down from his high, the navy-haired man looked down at you, seeing the fucking damage he'd done, and finally pulled his 8 inch monster out of your mouth. Hundreds of apologies flooded out of Natsumi as he grabbed some tissues from his bedside and tried to clean you up; but he couldn't deny that watching his cum drool out of your mouth and down your chin, your teary eyes looking at him with a soft smile on your face as you panted like a horny fucker, holy shit did it turn Natsumi on even more. But slowly, Natsumi's 'sorry's transitioned into 'Thank you's, his voice a little more confident as the handsome man looks down at you, a lazy smile on his face as he basks in the afterglow. After cleaning up, you chat with Natsumi, the post-nut clarity kinda hitting the sharp-featured man as he talks to you about why he was really a virgin; you two talked for a while, about his brother, how gay sex actually works n shit, everything really. That's why, when you went to stand up, Natsumi grabbed your wrist - his sweaty palm nice and warm as his masculine, big, veiny hand wrapped around your wrist. "huh? you want more or something, handsome?" you tease, a quizzical look on your face as your eyes look into Natsumi's "Uhh.... I wanna make you feel good too" The sexy swimmer says, looking up at you with doe-eyes, innocent, attractive eyes. Fuck... how could you not fold?
And that's how you ended up in your next position, with your legs up on Natsumi's broad shoulders and your shorts slid off on one of your legs. The sun had began to set, the golden-hour lighting making you look fucking incredible below Natsumi as his long, masculine fingers made you moan his name like a chant. The inexperienced man couldn't take his eyes off of you, sure he'd seen some porn here and there, but holy shit you looked ethereal; with the sunset's gleam making your sweaty body shine, your eyes rolling back and your sexy panting, you just turned Natsumi on so much! Your praises of his fingers and skill egged the tanned male on, applying what he'd learned in a crash-course in fingering you'd given him. Natsumi instantly found your prostate from how long his fingers were, the man curling his two fingers into your pleasure spot and making you see stars; his eyes couldn't stop darting across your whole body, admiring your flushed face, your sweaty body, your twitching, precum leaking dick, your tight hole around his digits, and Natsumi didn't expect to enjoy the way that your sweaty feet curled in pleasure from his attacks on your prostate. The handsome man did his best to pleasure your whole body, not just your tight walls, kissing your nipples and chest in doing so, marking and biting your thighs and legs and kissing your feet - because, yes, the man is so tall that by the time your legs reach his shoulders, only your feet make it onto them. Natsumi was practically worshiping your body as he made you feel so incredibly good, praising your body and your tightness and warmth as he kissed your hot skin, his dick fully hard again just from the way your hips twitched and buckled, lifted off of the bed towards him with every rub of his fingertips against your p-spot.
Finally, after more kisses with a lot of tongue from Natsumi and more magic work from the man's incredible fingers, you were pushed way past the edge. You moaned Natsumi's name as you gripped at the sheet below you and at whatever skin of his you could reach, your legs twitching in rhythm with your cock as you covered your stomach with your cum; the sight made Natsumi blush, so erotic yet so adorable to him - the man was falling in love. Your panting and soft moans filled the room and the navy-haired man's ears, the air was still as hot as ever and your bodies were sweatier than before, but you both could give less of a shit; the two of you stuck looking into each other's eyes as you panted and smiled, fuck you were both falling head over heels! But after Natsumi breaks a very sloppy and passionate kiss with you to fumble iwth his belt in order to pull out his now re-hardened 8-incher, the attention of the two of you was redirected to the slam of the cabin door; behind which was a very happy looking Hiro, whose face dropped when he saw what filthy activites were occuring in the shared cabin. For God's sake! Now the whole cabin knows you and Natsumi fucked!
Oh well~
You could deal with an angry Hiro and Yoichi for an hour or two if it meant you and Natsumi were now basically seen as a couple by your cabin-mates - and you're sure Natsumi didn't mind either from the way he chuckled as he looked at you with a hand scratching his head.
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agroteraa · 8 months
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Never Be Like You
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Felix Catton x f!Reader
My fic masterlist
Summary: AU where Saltburn's ending never happened. Felix lived happily up to 2016 (and on), where he met you at your new job. Meaning he is around 29 here and you are younger.
Yes, a fic based on THAT Jacob Elordi edit
Using the song "Never Be Like You" by Flume feat. Kai
Shout-out to Kasey @kcsvids ❤️
Tags: fluff, implied slow burn, AU.
Word Count: 3,8K
Early August in London this year was quite rainy, but fortunately, the day you had to go around the city with the documents turned out to be surprisingly sunny and pleasant. It was the second month of your new job.
The bell on the door in the coffee shop tinkled as you went inside in search of your senior colleague, whose errands you had been running for half the day.
"Annabel, hi! I’ve signed the documents, made copies and notarized them. Here are the originals in the folder, and here are the copies," you said, sitting down on the opposite chair and rummaging in your bag, taking out all the necessary papers.
"Oh, thank you, Y/N! I expected that you would only have time to pick up the documents, and you have already done everything! Cool, you're doing great!" the girl smiled at you, and then added, "Our new capable young employee."
She said this to a young man in a colored seemingly expensive shirt who was sitting relaxed close to her on the couch and drinking coffee. He looked at you with a smile while Annabel was having a dialogue with you and complimenting you on the work done. God. This was the guy from your job, whom you saw rarely and from afar, but you really wanted to know more about him. You didn't even know his name because you were too shy to ask, and besides, you didn't talk close yet to people in your new place.
"Felix. Felix Catton," he introduced himself, extending his long arm across the table.
"Y/N," you answered a little timidly, shaking his hand. His fingers were no less long than the hand itself, and his palm was warm, "Um... Y/N L/N."
"Okay, I have to run, bye, Ann," the guy kissed her on the cheek, threw some money on the table and smiled at you again, "It was nice to meet you, a new capable young employee."
Young. Not that young, it was your second full-time job after graduating from the university, but of course you were younger than the two of them. Annabel, as far as you knew, was almost 29 years old. Felix was probably about the same age, it was hard for you to tell. It seemed that he could be aged from 23 to 33, given that he looked so youthful and lively.
"So... does he work for our company? It seems that I saw him in the office, but very rarely..." you tried to find out information about this man from Annabel as casually as possible.
"Yes, Felix has... a more of a free schedule. His father is a co–owner of the company. So, he is not particularly worried about being a worker of the year. However, it's not like I live at work either," Annabel began to tell you openly. It seems you had already realized that she was also a pretty laid-back person, "So… What are you ordering?"
Despite your protests, Annabel ordered and paid for you coffee and lunch anyway, and then continued, "We studied at Oxford together. You could say he helped me get a job here later."
Oh. You got it. It seems that the picture in your head had finally begun to take shape. It became clear to you why some people worked hard from early morning till night in the same office as someone came at lunchtime at best and generally behaved as if they had known each other half their lives. Because that how it was. Many of them were Oxonians, and had known each other since the university, and some even from boarding schools. Of course, you also received a decent education, but it was nothing compared to Oxford. But this was also often not only about education, but also about lifestyle in general. Your family was not any close to be called poor, but still it was not comparable to this level of life, and you were able to get a current job only because of your hard work and probably decent amount of luck.
You felt a little sad at the thought that for them you probably were a girl who came out of nowhere and did the paperwork, and it was very possible that you would remain that way in their eyes. In Felix's eyes, in particular. That was how you imagined his life as a golden boy, who was apparently at this stage of his life employed in his own parents' company, where he did not need to make any effort to stay there and at the same time receive a round sum of money. Usually it also led to a certain lifestyle.
While Annabel was stirring her coffee with a spoon, you noticed an engagement ring on her hand, which you didn't seem to notice before or just didn't pay attention to.
"Oh... can I... congratulate you?" you asked, barely hiding your awkwardness, "Is it... Felix?"
"Yes, thank you… What? Felix?" the girl laughed, "No. We used to date back at the university, and after that… Well, now we are not. I can't imagine Felix as a fiancé or husband. To be honest, I don't think he can either. He's a pretty free spirit, let's put it this way."
You exhaled and nodded, on the one hand satisfied with the answer, and on the other hand you were upset and got into thinking even more. Yes, it seemed that you two were different, too different, and it came to be clear in just a half an hour on a lunch.
But that didn't stop you from thinking about him anyway for the whole next month. He still rarely came to the office, but now he nodded and smiled broadly if he saw you. You even chatted briefly a couple of times in the hallway and over a cup of coffee in the office kitchen. You still didn't know what he really was like, but he seemed nice and friendly, even though he was always in a hurry for somewhere else. Or someone else. You couldn't help but still look forward to these short meetings.
And that how the autumn came.
"Well, lucky you, Y/N – it seems that a small anniversary of three months of your work here coincides with our seasonal party," sipping from her cup, Annabel informed you, "Once in a season we go out somewhere with the whole team. Well, to be more exact – with the least boring group of people here. Come with us? We're thinking of going to a club this time."
You willingly agreed, pleased that you were invited to this party. After all, it was not for nothing that you'd been Annabel's indispensable assistant, helping her out all the time. And, to be honest, you did a lot of her own work for her. And also you hoped that you and her began to get closer in personal level, even though you were quite different, it was still quite a fun.
Week later, you were hurrying along the streets while looking at the navigator where exactly the club that Annabel was talking about was located. You were late because you spent a lot of time on dressing up and doing makeup. You wanted to make an impression and you were a little nervous. Nervous because all this time you were wondering if Felix would come or not. You were worried about both scenarios, but you still wanted him to come first of all, even though you had no idea what and how should happen next.
The place greeted you with loud enough but pleasant music and colorful lighting. Your colleagues were sitting on the sofas nearby. Annabel waved cheerfully, "Y/N! We're here! Hi! Yes, you're not even the last one, so make yourself comfortable."
You greeted everyone who was sitting. You felt quite awkward, because you didn't communicate with everyone at least on the same level you did with Annabel, but you hoped that the evening would go well and that you didn't come in vain. And it turned out to be quite alright, but anyway, part of your thoughts was roaming whether Felix would come or not.
"Okay, guys, and now we'll drink to the Y/N! She's been helping me a lot lately. Y/N, I hope this is just the beginning of your work with us!" Annabel toasted.
"To a new young capable employee!" said a velvety deep voice behind you. You turned around. Felix stood behind, dressed in a white shirt and jeans. He had a shot glass in his hand and he had some kind of red cowboy hat on a rope behind his neck and back.
You all clinked drinks together and then started to sit back down on the sofas.
"Hello, Y/N," Felix smiled broadly at you, "Glad you were invited too."
"Oh, Felix, where have you been?" your colleagues began to ask him as he sat down with them and began to tell about being stuck in another club and then getting through traffic jams here to you all.
"Unexpectedly. I thought he wasn't coming, huh," you said softly to Annabel.
"Why wouldn't Felix come to the party? It's not like going to office meetings, you know," the girl chuckled.
You continued to chat with Annabel this evening. Felix, unfortunately, did not approach you, and seemingly had fun chitchatting with all the people on the couch in front of you, although he kept glancing at you, so it seemed to you. But maybe it just seemed, because you had been drinking for the first time in a long time, and your head was already starting to feel a little dizzy.
But over time, your interlocutor talked more and more about her own with her long-time colleagues and friends, until she almost completely forgot about your presence. You began to feel gradually lonely in this company. Maybe you were right. A girl from nowhere who couldn’t even afford too many drinks in this place in central London, who was helping Oxford graduates who were, are and will be fine, with paperwork they weren’t really willing to do. But it was better to splurge on another drink than to sit and think all these thoughts.
Walking through the crowd to the bar, you stood in line and chose what to take for yourself. Something strong, but not very expensive, if possible.
"You have a small anniversary in our company today. It should be celebrated," a pleasant voice spoke softly almost in your ear. Turning your head to the side, you found Felix, who was leaning almost his entire body against the counter. He had definitely had a drink and was even more relaxed and cheerful than usual, "It's all on me, of course."
You protested a little, but Catton quickly dismissed all objections, taking two drinks for you at once and one glass for himself, "And this is about time you tell me how do you find the work here with us, where you came from and generally about yourself."
You headed back to the sofa with drinks. Since the path was laying through the dancing crowd, and you had two glasses in your hands, Felix held you protectively, placing his hand on your back and guiding you through all the people, making sure that no one would touch you. The feeling of his big warm hand on your back, on your skin, half-opened due to the design of the dress, definitely excited you and gave you goosebumps.
Some people from your company, including Annabel, was already gone to the dance floor, so you sat down on an empty sofa together and started talking. It was very uneasy and unusual for you to see Felix so close to you, also in such an informal setting. His big brown eyes looked at you attentively while you talked a little about yourself, about your education, how you got a job at this company, what you were doing here and who you started communicating with. What dark fluffy eyelashes he had. He was so handsome. You blushed a little and got embarrassed, but still, because of the abundance of information that you had to tell him, your brain was a little distracted and calmed down.
"That's great, Y/N. You're so... hardworking. And, apparently, you’ve achieved a lot on your own. That's very cool," Felix nodded with a serious face.
"Well, I haven't achieved anything special yet that I would really like, but thank you for the kind words. It's great that you're interested in your future subordinates."
"Oh, so you know? Well... we'll see about that. My dad is a co–owner of the company, but not the owner. So, it's not at all a fact that I'm going to manage over here," Felix was a little embarrassed and cleared his throat, "And I don't know what's going to happen next, I don't guess into the future for that long… Maybe I'll go abroad somewhere, like I've already done before, huh."
Then Felix began to tell about some parts of his own life - a little about his childhood, about studying at Oxford, what he did there and where he went later. He was quite modest and obviously tried not to emphasize his fabulously luxurious lifestyle, but this was the kind of thing that could not be completely kept to oneself. This manifested itself even in behavior and appearance, not to mention the stories.
But you liked, you really did like talking to him. With all that said, Felix Catton had a talent for making you feel like you were welcome, that you were no worse than him, that your lifestyle was no less boring or less important when he wanted to grant his attention. Even if you were completely different. You were listened to very attentively.
Due to this feeling, combined with his appearance and charisma in general, you were ready to never get up from this couch, if only your conversations would last forever.
But the forever ended quickly when Felix's friends yanked him onto the dance floor. Friends, and maybe not only friends. It seemed that many female colleagues and just a lot of the girls nearby were staring endlessly and smile charmingly at him in the hope of getting more of his attention. Of course, you could understand that oh so well. But all the same, you were upset that your chances were probably much less than those of all his acquaintances in his circle. Even if it was just about a sort of a close communication.
You finished your second drink and went to get another one. While you were standing in line, one of this year's hits started playing in the hall. A gentle female voice began to tell her story:
What I would do to take away
This fear of being loved, allegiance to the pain
Now I fucked up and I'm missing you
Never be like you
I would give anything to change this like-minded heart
That loves fake shiny things
Now I fucked up and I'm missing you
Never be like you
You couldn't take your eyes off Felix, who was having fun in the middle of the crowd – he was giving himself up to the music, dancing to the beat. Green, blue and sometimes purple spots of light slid across his face and his clothes. How graceful and natural he was now, as if he had been born on the dance floor.
I'm only human can't you see
I made, I made a mistake
Please just look me in my face
Tell me everything's okay
'Cause I got it
Never be like you
Felix completely broke up and went dancing at the pole jokingly. You didn't know if he was already so tipsy or just so relaxed naturally to that extent, but you couldn't look away with your mouth slightly opened. He was holding onto the pole with one hand, and with the other he was waving in the air, also swinging his hips.
How do I make you wanna stay
Hate sleeping on my own
Missing the way you taste
Now I'm fucked up and I'm missing you
Never be like you
Stop looking at me with those eyes
Like I could disappear and you wouldn't care why
Now I'm fucked up and I'm missing you
Never be like you
Your heart sank. Even though this song was about trying to bring back an existing relationship, it still somehow resonated especially with you right now. Particularly the line "Never be like you", which seemed to repeat your thought, which you carefully tried to hide from yourself tonight. You would never be like Felix.
The crowd gathered at the bar gradually pushed the gawking and not moving you closer to the dance floor, where Catton noticed you.
"Hey, Y/N, why are you just standing there so lost? Join me," the guy said cheerfully, slightly pulling you by the hand closer to him.
You started dancing together, he put on his red hat on to make you laugh a little. He was smiling widely, swaying from side to side bewitchingly in front of you.
I'm only human can't you see
I made, I made a mistake
Please just look me in my face
Tell me everything's okay
'Cause I got it
Never be like you
His white shirt was unbuttoned now, apparently, he had been hot for a while. Beads of sweat gathered on his skin and disappeared with him in the rays of the strobe light from time to time, which shone behind his back. In such lighting, it seemed as if he was moving in slow motion, and that was all a beautiful movie in which you accidentally fell into the place of the main character. But it wasn't a fantasy, it was your night right now.
I'm falling on my knees
Forgive me, I'm a fucking fool
I'm begging darling please
Absolve me of my sins, won't you
You wanted this moment to last forever. And unlike the conversation on the couch, it really felt like it was happening, like in a dream that no one dared to break. You were drowning in his magnetic gaze and smile, which he was giving only to you now. He was like Prince Charming of the 2010’s.
I'm only human can't you see
I made, I made a mistake
Please just look me in my face
Tell me everything's okay
'Cause I got it
Never be like you
Baby, baby please believe me
Come on take it easy
Please don't ever leave me... oooh
Never be like you
You mentally repeated the last lines of this song until your face itself took on a slightly pleading look. Felix seemed to catch it and touched your shoulder. His lips parted in the desire to say something, but he just stood there for a few seconds in silence, as if considering what to say and do next.
"... by the way, you look great today. I mean, your office looks are cute too, but this… You're full of surprises, aren't you?" he said after a while.
You smiled sheepishly as you continued to dance, drifting back into a musical and slightly alcoholic trance until it was interrupted by several of Felix's friends and your colleagues.
"Buddy, we've going home," the guys shook hands, and then started talking about some of their business. You moved a little to the side, and as soon as you did that, Felix slowly began to be surrounded by familiar and not so very familiar people. You went for a cocktail, and then headed to the couch, where you started talking to a colleague of yours. You kept glancing in Felix's direction at the same time, but he still didn't come up, engrossed in talking and some dancing.
After saying goodbye to your colleague, who also left, you finished your cocktail and finally decided to check your phone. Oh. You didn't know it was so late. You started looking for a taxi, but it costed a lot right now. Confused, you sat alone, staring at the screen and sucking from a straw a mix of melted ice and a cocktail from the bottom of a glass.
"Please pardon me for leaving you for a while," the hot hand laid on your back and then its owner appeared behind it, who plopped down on the sofa next to you. He looked at you with slightly regretful doe eyes, "Are you... leaving already?"
"Yes, it's very late, and there's a lot to do tomorrow… But the taxi is still expensive, I guess I'll wait a little longer."
"What are you talking about? I'll get you a car right now," Felix took out his phone and began to quickly type something on it.
"Oh, come on, don't..."
"Hey. We're celebrating your anniversary at work, our new best employee. Have you already forgotten?" the guy interrupted you, grinning, "Tell me your address, please."
You gave your address, Catton smiled slightly.
Five minutes later, a business class taxi pulled up to the club. You just went outside, and the warm air of an early autumn night pleasantly enveloped you after the hot and stuffy nightclub.
"Is this really my car?" you were amazed. Felix turned his head to the left and right, and then, leaning over, said in a serious tone, "I don't see any exactly the same beautiful girl waiting for exactly the same taxi, and do you?"
You giggled and blushed noticeably. There was a pause hanged in the night air.
"Thanks for your company, Y/N. I'm glad you're with us now. I hope we'll see each other more often from now on."
You looked him straight in the eye, and then nodded slightly and slowly.
"Good night. Please text when you... Ah..." Felix rolled his eyes at himself, "I don't have your phone number."
He looked down, shaking his head and chewing lightly on his lip. A knot tied in your stomach. Felix. Catton. Asked. You. Your. Number. It might had been more of a common courtesy, of course, but your heart started beating a lot faster anyway. Of course, you dictated your phone number to him, which made him full of ill-concealed joy. Having recorded it in his smartphone, he said, as if nothing had happened, "Yeah, great, now I have a place to text to find out how you got home," and put you in a taxi.
He gently touched your shoulders once more when he put you in the car. He pressed his lips almost weightlessly to your ear, "Good night again, Y/N. Thank you for this evening," his mumble was very warm and pleasant, you felt your hair rising on your skin.
Watching the taxi leave, from which window you looked at him back, Felix lit a cigarette. He was smiling widely and contentedly, exhaling smoke and slightly twitching his whole body on the spot from another surge of energy. He was obviously going to attend the work more often from now on.
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wandagcre · 1 year
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drive you mad (part 1) | sam carpenter 🔞
(Mob Boss!Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)
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You’re reunited with your old friend, Samantha Loomis, and she couldn't be any more of a puzzle to you. It doesn't take long to become entangled with her once again – replacing the previously wholesome hangouts; this time you find yourself being in her sheets way more often.
WARNING: dom!mob boss! sam, sub!reader, public sex, voyeurism, mirror sex, praise, degradation, fingering, poor communication, mentions of violence, hints of stalking, sam referring to you in spanish endearments (bc why not), not proofread +18 / men & minors dni. Words: 10k+
[ PART ONE of TWO | Next ]
[ series masterlist ] | [ masterlist ]
You liked the universe and its ways of diverting you into paths you never thought to cross paths once again.
Weeks ago, attending another lousy gala was against your whole will. It didn’t seem necessary to you, finding no difference whether your presence was something that would be amiss to the buffoons dressed in suits of your multimillion dollar company. Sure, you completely detested the idea, yet you gave it a chance, as your good colleague turned into a friend – was nagging you for days before the event. She insisted it was an opportunity (a scenario eerily familiar to your college days as if it was a mere frat party) you thought that might as well maximize these so-called connections, right? So, you caved in and went dressed to kill, anyway.
Funnily enough, the said colleague was nowhere to be seen even if she was the sole reason of your presence here tonight. She claims that she had the flu and so you were forced to take in the hors-d’œuvre by yourself.
Here you were, in a fitted beige-colored pantsuit. You didn’t know whether it was your fake it ‘till you make it mantra during work, but you managed to survive (so far). Sipping in your flute of champagne and socializing with people. Your feet were starting to ache and so were your cheeks due to the endless polite smiling you have done for the night. It was draining, so to say.
Just as you were on your way to the bathroom to do some touch up, a recognizable voice made its way to you.
“Please do tell me that you went here without a date, (y/n/n).” a sultry voice uttered directly on your ears and you turned to them too fast, almost getting a whiplash.
You haven’t heard of that for a while. It was a nickname that your closest friends and family called you by.
Lo and behold – it was Samantha Loomis. 
Your eyes fluttered as she left you flabbergasted for multiple reasons. Sam had you putting your hand on your chest, beating madly as if you’ve seen a ghost. 
“Shit. Sam, you scared me, Jesus. Can’t you say hello like a normal person?”
She bodied the suit better than every man in the room. Sam stood with hands in her pocket, an aura that can easily rival anyone else’s confidence in the room, her jet black hair was fixed in a neat ponytail. She was donned in a well put navy blue suit – truly tailored to her perfect figure, emphasizing her good attributes. Damn this woman. Sam was still taller than you and insanely oozing with attractiveness.
Another thing? This woman was the one you were silently pining over during your teenage years. You were also heartbroken when she left town abruptly, leaving no trace behind.
“Finished checking me out?” she says, cocky. “Not one hi for me? you’re still easily frightened, (y/n/n).” a smile ghosts on her face as if Sam knew a secret. “So, how are you? If you’ve got a mystery date for tonight, I’d say they are doing a bad job of keeping you entertained.”
“Hi. Happy now?” You immediately blush at her blatant flood of compliments. “And I’m fine. Really, I’m just here to enjoy the drinks and all, maybe a bit of expanding in the work field too. So, it’s definitely just me – a last minute decision.”
Sam nods, eyes trailing on you. 
“I’m more than happy to hear that. ‘Cause that also means I can do this–?” she reached for your hand and pressed her lips at the back of it, making you flustered more than ever.
You weren’t used to Sam being this direct. She was affectionate, but not to this extent. She was more laid-back as you recall, not as forward and not this flirty. Women had always been your achilles’ heel but to experience this with Sam in the present time – it was a no-brainer that your old feelings were being tested.
“You always do this to the women you encounter?” you raise an eyebrow.
“Just you, (y/n/n).”
The way she kept saying your nickname felt too intimate as it was the one you were previously called back in one of the towns you used to stay in. One that Sam was a part of until she moved again – a common occurrence in her life that she mentioned in passing – albeit you were somewhat expecting it, you didn’t actually think it would hurt that much still.
You were by each other’s side all night. She blossomed into a refined and sophisticated woman, answering questions from other gentlemen and business people in the room with unshakable confidence. It was apparent too, with how they looked at her with respect. Sam even introduced you to others too, by your respective job and all, definitely buttering up your good qualities too that you haven’t even realized that this was benefiting you in your long forgotten plans of exposure. 
“I don’t think I should be with you Sam,” you whisper close to Sam who had her eyebrows furrowed at your words. “Whatever your business is, it’s definitely beyond what I do. Wouldn’t it be sketchy? Or like using you? Because that’s not–”
“Now slow down, honey. It’s no problem with me. Honestly, I was just thrilled to have you by my side tonight and you deserve the good word and all. It’s still me, (y/n/n).” she assured you as she held you softly by your shoulder. 
Exhaling the distress away, your stomach soon fluttered at Sam’s intentions.
“I’m having fun too, just so you know.” You truthfully admit, stopping a stupid smile to spread on your face. Sam gleamed at your words, evidently content as you are.
Soon you were catching up a little with life. Sam asked you how long you have been away from your hometown and what brought you to a new one. You sheepishly say that a new start was long overdue for you and interestingly, Sam returns the same sentiment, albeit there was longing in her tone but it disappeared quickly as it went. Before you could attempt to pry for more, a new set of people were catching up to the two of you, making you sigh.
Sam murmured to you after the man had left. “That man is definitely a no. He’s got a good history of attempting to shag his secretaries. Bound to be kicked from their board soon. I assumed a terrible workload and possibly environment, too.”
“Noted. Crossing that one out immediately.” You snorted at her unfiltered yet helpful tip. “He was rather creepy with how he was staring.. It’s like his first time seeing a pair of boobs during Victorian times.” you quip and laughter filled your chest.
“Did he now?” Sam squinted her eyes. “Well… you’re absolutely a sight for sore eyes, alright.” You see her eyes now surely over the valley of your chest. 
Was she really checking you out? 
Another new information for you is that Sam had apparently grown playful. You were astounded to receive her gaze, you elbowed her side. “I’m just saying! But him? oh he’s not worth your time, is all.” Sam reasoned, petulant.
“And you’re no better.”
“Excuse me, I am. I was simply admiring you.” she quipped at you very quickly and sipped her drink.
“If you say so. And hey, what about her?” you subtly point at the tall, middle-aged woman you met earlier. 
“Uh-uh, also a pass. Better CEO than him and the others, for sure, but you could do better. A bit of the same as the old man, just a woman version of him on a somewhat low profile.”
You look with much interest now. For two different reasons – one, because you didn’t expect that and two, how exactly of a big shot was Sam to know all of this insider information?
“Doesn’t sound bad to me.”
Not for me. Sam murmured as she sipped on her drink. You look at her quizzically, obviously not catching her words. 
“Sorry, what was that?”
“I said, what about that one…” Sam subtly points out another person across from you. 
She listed out the company’s stand point, what they were looking for, and you momentarily tuned out – savoring her voice that melted in your ear.
“How do you know all of this?” You blurt out.
Sam was sporting a distant tight-lipped smile. “I own a few businesses from here and there. Can’t spill them all to you in one night. I have to remain mysterious so I can be interesting for you, don’t I, honey?” she tilted her head.
For the hundredth time that night, your heart pounded and cheeks were crimson once again, all by Samantha Loomis.
:: 
This morning as you flipped through the channels, it reported the death of a wealthy CEO, stabbed in most inhumane ways and his eyes were reportedly gouged out. 
Momentarily, you felt sick to your stomach until you realized that it was the same man who was a creep from the gala. You vividly recall Sam's words; with this man's business fluctuating badly and his poor work ethics, your thoughts gradually eased and snapped yourself out of it. He did see that one coming, you suppose.
You couldn’t be any more grateful that you’re far from that circle.
::
While you were terrified, it didn't stop you from going outside by yourself. Normally, this routine of yours is done during day time. However, resting got the best of your time this weekend and so with a resigned sigh, you came prepared with a pepper spray that you blatantly held as your free hand pushed the cart. Your stock of groceries wouldn't be done by itself, after all. Were you paranoid? (The answer is yes, rightfully so).
The mundane chore was going well. 
Until you were on one aisle, on your tip-toes, barely reaching the chips that were now placed a tier higher than normal. It’s like a trick and you were being played, as coincidentally, it was the last one on the rack. You irrationally listed this as a bad sign - change wasn't to be welcomed for you in times of horror.
The lighting grew dark and it shadowed you. it triggered your fight or flight mode as this person towered you from behind, the scent strongly engulfed your senses and so did their body frame, making you gasp as their front was almost pressed against you. 
They picked up the item for you and as you turned around, it was Sam.
She hasn’t preoccupied your mind for a while and you take in her presence as a fresh breath of air.
"Hey, pretty girl, I don't want you getting hurt." She joked and dropped the chips herself on your cart. 
"Fancy seeing you here," you retort with equal amusement to the woman in front of you. You thought it was unfair that she always stunned you as you saw her casual get up. 
Sam wore a bomber jacket and a navy baseball cap. She handheld her own cart and interestingly filled it with junk food, just like yours, and a couple of cleaning disinfectants.
"Do you usually shop this late?” Sam quips gently, hearing the concern in her tone.
You sheepishly smiled, "I know. But in my defense, work kept me late unfortunately. Or maybe it was me over napping..." admitting it out loud felt silly. "I don't have much of a choice. I ran out of stash in my pantry and while it's not really a good time.. wait, I don’t mean that with you, but what I meant is that, given the circumstances happening right now - it’s horrifying to be out and about."
Sam raised an eyebrow at your rambling. She found it endearing that you had to clarify each time how you liked her company. 
"And what circumstances are we talking about?"
"You know, the whole killing thing," you hushed down low and kept walking with Sam who hummed right behind you. "Haven’t you heard it yet? It honestly had me worried. I don't want to be put in that position."
You both come across the isle of candies, you picked up a couple of them. Embarrassment soon crept in the more you confided your fear out in the open and how you revealed your unhealthy fix of snacks in the presence of Sam, the woman you're swooning about.
"I see. That explains your trusty pepper spray," Sam nodded along in understanding. "Say, do you mind if I accompany you? Sticking together could be better, after all." she lightly nudged your side with her arm and swiftly took over to push your cart by her own.
An easy smile crossed your features. You can't say no to spending more time with her.
"I'd like that very much."
::
The simple scare and business exchange was the start of your reconnection with Sam. 
It seemed that Sam was sticking for good - or near you. At least, that’s what you thought so. Her place couldn’t be that far as you happened to come across her for a few times already. 
A few days later she surprised you, sent a rather straightforward message and opened up how she misses you (you almost fainted on that message). Come the weekend, Sam called you to say that she’s sending a driver to pick you up around 6 PM. After you gave her your address, Sam notes to dress in nothing strict and formal as the gala, and you quote Sam who said in her own words: just bring your pretty self. 
It was rather bossy and forward, if you were being honest. Though your senses dulled it out of bias, being Sam’s friend in the past she hasn’t done anything to put you in harm.
Another thing that brought you to a conundrum was how it sounded like a date but you didn’t want to be that hopeful – even with her endless flirting. You simply note it as another Sam evolution; a part of her confident self. The driver who picked you up was dressed in casual business attire, no older than late 20s, gave you a polite smile. He introduced himself as Martin and referred to Sam as Ms. Loomis and as you were in a phone call with her, she immediately confirmed to you that it was indeed your ride.
Relief washed over you, feeling secured enough with the whole get up. Especially with the case of brutal murder as of recently.
Arriving at the place, the door was opened for you and he mentions that he’ll be parked at the same place. The restaurant itself was one of the places you haven’t had a chance to visit yet, mostly because you didn’t feel zealous to spend a lot of money on a glorified casual meal. The ambience striked your interest immediately, the interior was cozy, and welcoming – especially for whatever they served, the aroma made your stomach rumble. 
Looking around, it was opposed to what you expected – there was no single sight of business suits hovering in the place. They were stuffy people in casual attire, maybe.
“You made it.” Sam stood up from her seat and your eyes fluttered at her beauty once again. Her floral scent was hypnotizing and covered your senses as she went for a hug. “How was your ride?”
“It was nice. I like your car,” you timidly say as Sam pulled a chair for you. 
“And I like your outfit. You look so beautiful, (y/n/n.)” Sam’s words were earnest and crimson quickly spread on your cheeks and rose up to your ears.
The stark contrast of her in formal attire with slick ponytail was apparent, yet equally so attractive. Sam stood in plain tight polo, baggy pants and some sneakers with her hair loose. She gave you a warm smile and her eyes also did a once over to your figure; you were dressed simply in a knitted zip top that hugged your torso, some trousers, and decent platform shoes. 
“Says you. You’re absolutely charming, it’s unfair.”
“Don’t start that with me, honey. We’ll be here all night arguing about that.”
Sam grinned at how you affectionately rolled your eyes at her quip. As you settled in and looked at the menu, you noticed the familiarity. It was on par with your tastebuds. She definitely remembered your type of crowd. You hid a smile with this information.
However, your joy was temporarily cut off as you noticed the server giving Sam the heart eyes as she took note of the order, although the latter paid no mind, swiftly reiterating your orders with her polite smile, it didn’t stop you from getting irrationally bothered on the inside.
You should have seen this coming. Surely, other people were bound to find Sam attractive as much as you do.
“Have you ever been here?” Sam eagerly questioned, her doe-eyes all on you. “I was nervous to pick a decent place, to be honest. I didn’t want it to be stuffy and stiff, but not too casual – only because I wasn’t so sure with your taste now, so I relied on my (y/n) senses.”
You were quick to nod off, “No. I was interested but I never had the chance.” a slow appreciative smile spread on your lips. “Your senses were right - don’t worry, Sam. They definitely serve the type of food I like. I hope you didn’t compromise that much for me." While you liked the thoughtfulness, you wanted Sam to have a good time as well.
“Well, that’s great! It means you can enjoy it with me that way. Don’t worry, based on their menu it seems appetizing for me, too.” her eyes lit up assuring you, and it was an adorable sight. She showed you another side of her again, reminiscent of how you remember her relaxed state and wasn’t as constricted from the gala held days earlier. “I have to ask.. is this setup okay with you? In case you’re… seeing someone.”
You’re surprised at her interest at your love life. Her attention remained fixated on you and it made you blink couple of times.
“Definitely not seeing any woman right now. Nothing recently.” you hint your preference, in case Sam hasn’t picked up on it yet even before. You haven’t come out back then. 
Sam smiled at your response. “That’s a relief. Means I won’t be breaking any faces any time soon.” your eyes widen at her words. “I’m kidding, (y/n/n). Or not.”
You nod along at Sam’s words with an unsure smile, not knowing what she exactly meant by that. You shrug it off as her odd humor. 
“What about you, any lucky person yet?” you asked, it was your chance to know more about her too.
A playful smirk was written on Sam’s features. 
“Funny thing is that it's the same case for me, I haven't gotten around it for uh, for some reason.” she ended sheepishly and shuffled a bit on her seat. “I could be eyeing on someone, who knows. But I have to be mysterious to you.” Sam’s voice dropped an octave lower. If you didn’t know any better, your delusions would think that she’s implying suggestively to you.
While her vague answer didn’t provide you what her type was, it was a relief for you to know that Sam is not off the market yet.
Both of your smiles barely wore off since then. Soon you were finally eating your go-to food and Sam with her chosen pasta. You debate whether you should finally ask Sam of her sudden disappearance, but you really didn’t want to spoil the mood either.
“Are you okay? Something wrong with your meal?” Sam leaned in to you and you quickly motioned no. 
“No, no. It’s just– I want to know, why did you have to leave?” you can’t help it but the hurt dripped on your tone. “It was so sudden and I haven’t heard from you since then… and now, you’re here again.”
You felt silly because it was a long time ago. Seeing Sam in flesh again gave you a whiplash, you valued her presence as she was your confidant during your hard times. If it weren’t for the gala, maybe you’d be left wondering until now, you’ll never know.
Warmth covered your hands, surprised that Sam has taken them to intertwine with hers.
“I can’t say the full details yet. But.. I’m here to stay. Believe me, honey. What happened then - it has something to do with my father. You knew how unstable things were at home, right? And I was expected to… step up into things at a faster pace than I can ever imagine,”
You only had a slight idea – if Sam before wasn’t very talkative and open – it was a thing that definitely remained until now. Sometimes their house was rowdy, full of men that wore notable sparkly ostentatious accessories. You only knew that his father’s job was demanding and that he was uptight, didn't want Sam to be out late, she had to sneak to parties, and was harsh with his words - even in front of you. It reflected the fear that glinted in Sam’s eyes when you were caught at their house, at the same beat, Sam also seemed to respect him. It was odd and the similarity of her tone was not lost on you but you didn’t push further.
You also wondered how Sam's sister, Tara, is doing and most likely all grown up now. 
“Is it enough for you right now?” Sam meekly asked you, hopeful glint in her eyes.
You mimic her playful smirk from earlier.
“Only if we get mint ice cream right after this and I’m paying.”
Sam let out a relieved sigh, leaning back to her seat and an easy going grin gracing her features once again. 
“Alright, whatever your heart desires, (y/n/n).”
::
After a wholesome reunion (or date?) the two of you were on a weird loop. At least for you. She was bearing gifts that weren’t so little at all – packages were being sent to your house, always coming with a handwritten note that said ‘reminded me of you’ with a scribbled wink, sometimes a heart, and seeing Sam became a part of your routine. It was all you looked forward to every week – seeing Sam – that your friends even asked whether you were dating someone as you appeared more occupied than ever.  
At this point, you have visited restaurants and stores you could only imagine. Sam mentioned that having to try delicacies with you was a terrific experience, she liked your honesty and fun quips of critique. Although it shifted to something you’d say – a bit odd. While she was warm and welcoming, she never stopped by at your house.
Although you weren’t going to lie, it made you curious. Disappointed, too. Was she embarrassed enough to avoid being seen dropping by in the eyes of the public, in an intimate way? Granted, there wasn’t anything intimate going on. 
Other than that, it dawned to you how tactile Sam was with conversations. It was always knowing something new and familiar, never delving into something deeper.
For her sweet quips, you remain confused whether it was flirty and intentional, after all, you didn’t think that Sam was to take interest in you romantically speaking. So, it was a challenge for yourself to not get any less flustered. Especially when you’re crushing over her.
::
"Hey, pretty girl. Wanna eat out tonight?" Sam smoothly asks you from the other line and you snorted at her forwardness.
You peer over your window at the kitchen before shutting the blinds. You didn’t know whether it was still the lingering paranoia you felt over the gruesome murders and the irrational fear that you could be next. 
What if they were watching you?
"Dunno Sam," you scratch your nape, debating your answer as you remembered the events happening outside. "Is it safe? A brutal death happened recently. And you know, honestly, Sam – it rattled me a little more than I thought it did."
"Is this about the CEO? Honey, I've told you that he was already in deep shit. his decisions have probably caused him to dig himself into a bigger mess unimaginable."
The lack of care in Sam’s tone surprised you a little. But your mind weighed in the facts; these were billionaires who fucked up, didn’t do anything good for the others, and put themselves in the wrong crowd. You give Sam credit for that similar thought as you assume.
"Okay, but still…"
You hear Sam cooing in sympathy. "If it helps, I have my men around. We’ll be safe. You’ll be safe with me, don't worry." she promises with conviction enough for you to believe her.
You hummed as you rethink your answer. You wanted to hang out with the woman you've been crushing over (again) and having an idea of how her bodyguard's in question are built, you feel yourself leaning more to saying yes. 
"I guess that helps yeah- you just had to be so damn convincing, didn't you?" Even if this was a call, you can already see the stupid grin that Sam has now. "Alright, I'm sold with that. I'll see you later, Loomis." you playfully sing-songed to which Sam giggled as you dropped the call.
::
“Let’s try something new today.” Sam said in her low voice and to your surprise she held the car door open for you in the passenger seat and you weren’t in the backseat this time.
“Don’t we always?” you refer to your eating escapades with her. 
To your shock, Sam went to the driver’s seat. 
She was the one driving for today?
“Nuh-uh. We’re going to my house.”
“What?”
You turn your head fast to face Sam with your expectant eyes; filled with surprise and excitement. After all, your brain was racking itself with much curiosity of what is going on with your friend slash crush’s personal life. When Sam caught the glee in your expression, her own eyes crinkled at the corners and muttered something about how adorable you are.
As you parked outside, you noticed familiar vehicles that tailed the one you and Sam were in. You only saw a few of them before, the men only looked at you out of politeness – as if their eyes weren’t around to linger – and they were more pliant with Sam. It instilled an idea that your friend was this much of a respected person.
“Don’t worry, they’re with us.” Sam informs you and you were shy of how evident you were glancing at the side and at the back. 
You took tentative steps inside her home, surprisingly it was bursting with colors. It was apparent that Sam liked the idea of experimenting when it comes to style, as her interior and decorations felt straight out of magazine.
In her living space, she offered for you to sit first. She looked messy this time – not as neat after work, her hair down again instead of the usual ponytail, which seemed unnatural for someone so polished for her professional state.
“This was all of a sudden, sorry. I can’t… I’m a shit host for tonight. I’m honestly not feeling well today. I can get someone to fetch our food, whatever you like, it’s on me mi quierida.”
“You could’ve postponed this thing that we have. I mean, I don’t mind.” Okay maybe that was a complete lie – but you didn’t want Sam to feel forced.
Sam tilted her head. “And risk depriving myself of not seeing you? I do mind that. More than you can imagine. I guess you could say that I selfishly wanted you all by myself tonight, regardless.”
You feel somersaults in your stomach – making you squirm at your seat. Before you can process her words further, your attention panned to Sam’s hands and grew alarmed as you saw a faint view of her knuckles were red, you figure it'll be bruising the next day. She tried to hide it a lot as soon as decent lighting was present. Sam discarded her silver watch and then removed the champagne from the bucket near her to submerged her closed fist as it contained ice. It clinked against the metal, and as seeing her face, her chestnut eyes kept fleeting over you – observing.
"What exactly were you doing anyway?" Amusement was in your tone, although concern crept in quickly. You didn't want Sam to be hurt in some fight club. Or any way, for that matter.
Sam beckons you, "Come here." she softly uttered. as you did, her free hand rested on your lower back. "I ran into a small inconvenience. I guess you can say that I handled it well." 
You snorted at her poor joke. A boyish smile spread on her pretty face.
"If you're joking with that shitty pun… I'll take your word for it, Loomis." You slid an arm around her neck, patting her shoulder affectionately. 
It was truly a gesture meant to be playful but it appeared that it became a cause to shift things between you two. The proximity made you hyper aware with your heartbeat pounding loudly by the minute. You can’t even look Sam in the eye, remaining frozen.
"Uh-huh. You should trust me with it, mi quierida. You know I always mean well.”
Sam smirked, as though she knew something you didn't. She was difficult to decipher at most times but you shrug it off, noting it as a part of her charm. It was her thing thenand apparently, until now. 
Case in point: her sneakily trailing her hand lower as they were, now resting on the slope of your ass. She grabbed you by its underside, feeling her fingers digging into the flesh. Knees growing weak at the contact, you barely stifle a gasp. It was surprising yet very welcomed and better than you imagined.
She rubbed her calloused hand back and forth on your back soothingly. "Stay... stay the night with me.'' Sam whispered as she nosed the crook of your neck, her breath against your skin spreading goosebumps.
It was an all-too familiar scene, however, Sam was bolder.
“Let me give you your present for tonight,” Sam husked out, her face moved to bite on your earlobe – her hands needy all over your body. “or… just say the word and I’ll stop,”
You were pulled in, moaning as you finally cracked through the tension. Both of you no longer teetering in friendly boundaries. It was hard not to – not when it was Sam you adored for a great chunk of your life and how her siren eyes were pierced onto yours. As Sam was nervous, you were simply stunned and returned the same feeling as you did.
"Okay,” you responded shakily yet you moved with an ounce of bravery, finally affirming your answer by grabbing Sam by the nape and lips crashing with much need, electrifying you.
Sam devoured you in her satin sheets until you were swollen, frazzled, and dripping. 
::
The next day, you discover that another case of murder has happened in your town. This was an odd occurrence, as while death is inevitable, it was surprising to hear more of them happening in a short period. More so, it was unusual to hear of a brutal case in your normally nonchaotic town.
Fear began to creep into you as your colleague mentioned it was another CEO yet, this time it was the woman whom you've also met from the gala – being there, meeting these people and hearing them as nothing but reported deaths now felt like a bad omen. It created quite the buzz in your workplace, after all it was one of your company's competitors, too.
Shiver ran down your spine; you couldn't be next, right? 
If you were to follow the pattern, it only suggests isolated killings of wealthy figures and you couldn't be any farther from that. You were another normal person who’s only trying to get by.
Then you remember Sam and the extra security she provides to you. All this time she had kept you safe and away from harm. You found solace over the thought, so you exhale and tried your best to let go of your worries.
::
In all honesty you were only expecting to pull connections that can land you higher positions that promised bits of grandiose escapades in between – all tied to your work during that gala – and you’re surprised that you landed in Sam instead, though in a much more compromising position that ignited your whole body for days. Sometimes you can’t even move due to soreness. More often, you burned and yearned for Sam’s touch. 
It’s like the woman imprinted on you.
Sam finally brought you to her actual place which was a good breaking point. As soon as you saw past the soaring entrance and the modern architecture that greeted your wide eyes. So far, it appeared that she was indeed the only one based on your frequent stays – only men in between casual and formal attires, some being her bodyguards and maids as well were around the area. 
You were surrounded by a lavish wardrobe that you can only dream of. You were amused that you share similar skin-care products as her when you first used her personal bathroom. It was a good coincidence, it made your stay-ins much more comfortable and efficient.
The spacious place felt intimidating to your bones as you walked around halls and doors after one another, although you’ve handled much more terrifying things that were specifically this she-devil.
It was a surprise to you how she can swoon you with her gentleness and barely any of that remains in the bedroom activities. She was absolutely rough and domineering.
She continues to take you to different places you’ve never been to before. Though, now they were private and more high-end properties. Today, Sam took you today to where you wouldn't normally get your sexy undergarments. 
It was sultry and inviting to the ladies. The assisting ladies were polite, kept a minimal distance, and didn’t blatantly stare unless their attention was called to. You and Sam came by fairly early, hence the lack of people, you assume. You were fascinated with the quality of the garters and fabrics that felt different on your fingertips. 
One of her men, Martin, stood by inside the store. Sam assured you that everything was fine, it’s only a precaution and more of a just-in-case business thing. She kissed you before you could ask anything else, effectively distracting you.
Finally having both of your picks, you were welcomed by another part of the area where the sconce's recessed light only added to the thrill that was covering the lavender hall of the boutique. It certainly made the atmosphere downright sinful and erotic. For a minute, you thought that maybe you can handle being Sam’s dirty secret. You felt so dizzy. Feverish. Needy.
Sam placed a final kiss to the side of your neck before she was gently ushering you to go, seeing the familiar look of hunger in her eyes as if she was controlling herself - it made you shiver with the same desire - then you went in to fit.
You nervously stood in front of the mirror, doing final touches on the laces. Sam insisted that she prefers seeing you fit the lingeries instead of her dropping them on your face out of nowhere – something you appreciated.
Slipping yourself into the intricate laces of the lingerie, you were unable to stop nitpicking on the blemishes and stretch marks that were on your skin and how apparent they were beyond this flimsy material that attempted to cover your intimate parts.
“Don’t forget to show them to me, alright?” Sam hollered from the other end.
You try to suck it up, being snapped out of your insecurities. “Wanna come in here?”
“No, come out here.”
In disbelief, you shook your head no even if Sam couldn’t see it. What did she mean by that?
“Are you crazy? There’s… there could be people out. Just come here,” you whisper-yell to Sam.
“There’s no one. We arrived early and just – trust me. It’s only me out here, seated, completely alone.”
You hesitantly move the curtain in the fitting room and step out. Indeed it was silent and no one was there just as Sam reassured. It helped that the room was actually just for the two of you. As you stood there, you felt so naked and raunchy, being were dressed in nothing but lingerie.
“What’s the verdict for this?”
Sam was manspreading on the emerald upholstered chair and you stood in between her legs, inquisitive. 
“Oh, baby.”
“How is it…?” you fiddle with the laces, not meeting her eyes.
Sam looks at you with her mouth agape. She didn't say much but surprise was written on her face. You cannot help but overthink still, as your skin wasn’t flawless nor ridiculously skinny like any other models that Sam surely had been entwined with at one point… or even now. 
“Hey, are you feeling okay, (y/n/n)?” Sam questions and taps on her thigh. “You aren’t comfortable with this one, are you?” she worriedly asks, her hands on your side, rubbing to soothe you. “Because you look so stunning to me, god,”
You refuse to meet Sam’s eyes, “I- I don’t think I look flattering at these. I’m no model, Sam. Surely you had better.” the distaste on your tone didn’t go unnoticed by the woman who frowned at your words.
Your insecurities began to gnaw in rapidly; what if Sam had other women on days you weren’t available? It made you sick to your stomach.
“What makes you think that? Oh, baby this is the best I’ve ever had.” Sam tugs you by your forearm and while you are teary eyed, she places a gentle kiss at the back of your hand. “I’m sorry if you felt forced to do this. You can take it off now if you want. If I’m being honest, I only thought of wanting to see you strip for me."
The explanation had put your mind at ease. It definitely gave you a sense of comfort that to some extent, you do matter to Sam.
“We could have thought of something else. I.. I’m just not feeling this, Sam, it doesn’t fit me. I’m sorry.”
Sam's heart sank at your words. You weren’t to blame at all. Soon, you felt her fingertips subtly tugging down your skimpy underwear to which you put your hand above hers, halting her movements.
"What – Sam, someone might see us," nervousness washes over your expression, you don't want to get caught in such a vulnerable state.
Sam only looked at you with her dilated eyes. "As if I'd let them see this. Trust me, we just have to be quick, princesa, because I can’t wait much longer.." her fingers smoothly went to hook her fingers under the garter of your underwear and moved to grab the base of the fabric. “Let me apologize to you in this way.” She gave it a pulling tug, your moan vibrating in the small space as it deliciously cupped your pussy lips. “You look so beautiful right now, (y/n/n).”
You barely stifle a moan from erupting out of your mouth and feel yourself drip with wetness.
“My pretty girl is getting turned on with a fucking wedgie? You’re just as turned on as I am, aren’t you?” Sam moistens her lips, “So pretty and all for me. You can’t be loud in here baby, I need you to stay quiet. Don’t want others to hear you moan.”
“Thought- there was no others,” you whimper at Sam who only smirked.
“But the assistants are outside. Can’t have them knowing you’re such a whore for me, hm? Now turn your back to me and look at your pretty reflection.”
Nodding your head profusely, you swallow the lump in your throat. It made Sam chuckle in delight, her eyes gleaming. She pulls up the fabric once again, you’re sure that a wet patch is now evidently staining it. She pokes it with the pad of her two fingers and brushes them back and forth, the friction bringing you pleasure.
She interrupts your reverie by halting her motions, unclasping the bra off you and the intricate straps – one your eyes lingered to – only you didn’t realize that Sam saw the dismay on your face, as though it didn’t fit you. It would be an understatement for Sam to say that she abhors seeing you treat yourself this way.
You observe her hooded eyes now full of desire as she looks up to you – it’s undeniable with how it matches her actions, feeling Sam’s thumb pressed then on your back muscle, letting go to run over her hands all over your torso. It’s soothing although given your position, you feel the want and her touch intoxicating you.
“Sam, please.” you begged, ass pushed to her direction with your posture bent over. 
She merely laughs and smacks her hand hard on your ass. The sound echoes in the dressing room. You hissed at how it stings.
Sam had always found your curious look so endearing. You always looked so ready for her to take, attentive, always so curious and beautiful.
She moves her hands agonizingly slow and sensual to your hip bones – brushing her thumb against them – to the skin right under the curve of your ass. You shriek out loud with eyes rolling back to your head, temporarily forgetting that you’re in a public place as Sam notches it up by squeezing you tenderly. 
Repeatedly.
“Look at the mirror, (y/n)” Sam sternly orders. You shudder with eyes wide, still not moving. “My little bunny is not dumb, aren’t you, my sweet thing? Don’t make me repeat myself.”
You gulped audibly and a string of moans were pulled out of you as Sam kneaded your supple breasts pleasingly. Being bare while Sam was fully clothed made you uneasy. Looking at the mirror didn’t feel right - seeing yourself become this needy and you meet Sam’s eyes in the reflection. What was her point in doing this? You don’t know either how it intimidates you yet a tinge of excitement is unmistakably laced underneath your impression. While you weren’t new to her roughness, this was particularly still felt exhilarating to you. 
Lost in a haze of lust, the ambience changed within the store – it felt as though you were trapped in a heating chamber. It’s charged and so electrifying to be in a compromising position with Sam – while it was a secluded and high-end one that provided privacy, you hoped that no one barged in soon.
Sam left a kiss on your lower back and feeling her hot breath brush on your skin made you shiver run down your spine, snapping you out of your worries. 
“I’m going to need you to sit between my legs, (y/n/n). And I’m gonna fuck you with my fingers until you understand in your pretty head that you’re beautiful, hm?” Sam’s words echoed titillatingly on your whole body, your breath hitched and bothered.
Soon as you sat hesitantly onto the couch between her legs, Sam gripped it and opened it wide for you as she saw you squirming and shakily closing your legs. You saw yourself in the reflection - how bare you were. And all you can think about is Sam and how you’re about to soil the velvety seat. She tuts at your shyness and manoeuvres her hand, wrist curling as she glides one finger over your soaked slit, gasping at how you were already so wet – teasing you.
You sharply inhaled, chasing more of Sam’s touch. “Told you that I’m gonna fuck you in front of this mirror, baby. So don’t hide yourself. I’d like to keep you like this, so gorgeous and ready for me.”
Sam did it for you – adjusted her own thighs to accommodate your legs, placed them on top of hers and spread them for you to see how exactly you were dripping. The wetness trickled down the expanse of your inner thighs out of your folds. Sam had a wolfish grin, what you’d describe as predatory and hungry for you. Lolling your head back to Sam’s shoulder, you hear her grunt as she glides her fingers now directly to your folds, eventually entering inside of you.
The sloppy sounds of your wetness echoed in the room. It didn’t help that you felt Sam pressed the base of her palm against your pelvis as her curled fingers rammed madly inside of you. You were pouring out your arousal.
“Oh Sam, oh fuck– fuck, fuck!” heat rose on your belly, coming in waves. Sam responded by pressing kisses on your now sweaty face.
“Mm yeah? More?”
“Yes, yes… Please, Sam!”
You were lost in the haze of lust, driving you dizzy, as your pussy kept pounding with Sam’s rapid thrusts. A slew of guttural moans were out of your mouth – not even minding how loud you are now. You feel how your own core clenched and sucked the entirety of Sam’s fingers, taking a peek in the mirror proved it enough – it was a terrible decision for you.
“Open your eyes, come on now, my good girl. Don’t want you to miss out on how beautiful my sight is.”
Your teeth caught your bottom lip, you comply for Sam’s sake. She called you a good girl, after all. You kept bouncing on her slender and now thoroughly soaked fingers, your slick all over her pants and you saw how it trickled down to damp and darkened the very upholstered chair. Seeing yourself blushing and so fucking used, your pussy squeezed once again over Sam’s fingers and to both of your delight, her thumb pried and did circular motions to your clit.
The pleasure shot you straight in waves over your body and vibrated so deliciously. 
You meet Sam’s thrusts and as you bounced, you also saw how intently focused she was on your reflection.
“God, look at these tits,” Sam roughly squeezed the flesh, making them aggressively jiggle. “I fucking love having you like this baby. Aren’t you my good girl?” she hotly whispered to your reddened ear, giving your earlobe a bite.
Her other hand that supported you by the waist, crawled up to grab the very breasts that she verbally appreciated. 
“Come on, say it.” Sam gave it another squeeze – plenty that made you mewl – and tugged your perk nipple harshly. “and look at me as you do.”
“Yes, yes, yes! I’m.. I’m your good girl!”
“Mine only,” Sam growled and you felt her teeth sinking in the skin of your neck, biting and nipping. “Oh how I wanted you for so long, like this for me…”
You moan as you turn your head, not minding the awkward angle, not in this needy state of yours you did mind. Neither did Sam, who was visibly appeased with her pearly grin as you do – even more when you shifted your gaze to the mirror and this time, you actually stared at it. 
“Such a pretty thing, aren’t you?”
Your hand slithered to Sam’s nape, who was almost as breathless as you. You tried to keep a firm grip on her as you feel more lost in the pleasure.
“Yes, Oh… oh! Sam!”
You nod instantaneously making the woman smile even wider. Soon, Sam’s fingers were sloppy wet and rapidly applying pleasure on her pad and focused on your very clit. You couldn’t do anything but elicit more expressive moans and squelching noises that bounced through the room as Sam fucked you dumb. The coil in your stomach finally untangled, leaving you breathless.
You meekly look at your figure in the reflection once again. Your cum trickled down continuously, leaking out of your pulsating hole. Sam panted lowly in your ear and inserted her hand again, making you grab her inner wrist as you felt the oversensitivity. She hushed you to calm down and she was gently pumping. 
It was indeed a pretty sight.
The thick slick of your arousal and cum soon was on your lips, Sam prying it open. It wasn’t up for discussion – you didn’t hesitate either. You taste the bittersweetness coating your tongue and mixed with your saliva, eagerly sucking out of Sam’s fingers. She moaned at your enthusiasm, encouraged by this you sucked more of your remains out of it, your teeth grazing along and Sam pushed it deeper until you felt her slender fingers slightly poking at your throat. 
Once she was satisfied, she handled you differently by flipping your position so now you straddled her leg and faced Sam instead of the mirror. Her lips quickly made its way to give you open mouthed kisses to your sternum, to your neck, finally your mouth.
“You did so well, mi amor. And you were so pretty.” You shyly nodded at Sam’s praise. “Remember that, hm? Regardless of dressing like this – lingerie or not – I’ll look and appreciate you the same way.”
“Mm-hmm,” you lazily nodded and met Sam’s gaze.
After Sam helped you dress your clothes. While being fucked the lights out earlier was heavenly, the walking out of the fitting room was not pleasant at all. Your legs feel like jelly, you can barely walk properly without Sam’s tight support on your waist (you refused her offer of carrying you not wanting to be further embarrassed) but it helped that there weren’t any side glances from the assistants. 
Oh, heavens. You forgot that Martin was also waiting inside the boutique. Even if he remained mum, you couldn’t be any more humiliated today.
Sam pushed back her slightly tousled hair and you helped her smoothen the back of her clothing. As for her trousers, the damage has been done and it’s currently stained with your wetness. An odd sense of pride came at you because you did that.
Sam held the undergarments – even the one she destroyed and fucked you into and personally offered to place it inside of the provided bag and then handed her black card. 
“We’ll take the seat too, the green one in the fitting room. I’ll send someone to pick it up today.” she uttered in what you recognize as her professional voice, the lady simply smiled, replying with Yes, Ms. Loomis, as she agreed with no hesitation.
You hid your face in the crook of Sam’s neck and your cheeks burned. Sam only giggled at your shy reaction. She wrapped an arm around you and brushed your hair gently as she leaned closer to you.
::
“Come back ‘ere.” Sam lazily mutters, voice still raspy. She was still in bed which was such a miraculous sight. Not only because her godly body was exposed but the fact that she stayed in. Her arms were reaching out to you, caressing your bare lower back and eyes barely open. “It’s so cold, you know.”
You gave her a wistful smile. “And you do know that I’m out of clothes here, right? I also happen to have a place of my own, Sam.”
“You can always–”
“–borrow yours, yeah. I know, Sam. But I have to go. My work stuff isn’t here either.”
She sits up fully. “Okay, baby.” Sam replied dejectedly. You shake your head at how she’s acting like a kicked puppy and barely the same as an insatiable sex god from last night. “How about I drive you home? This is an inarguable offer, by the way.”
Sam gave you a pointed look and you can’t help but think if she’s tricking you – seducing you, almost. She’s unashamed with her nakedness and the way she crossed her arms, further made her biceps prominent, the mysterious scar across them, and her supple breasts gave you a mouthwatering view. You chose to ignore how your stomach fluttered at her use of endearment. The more time you spend with Sam, the more they slip out.
“Don’t talk business to me, Sam. You’re so annoying.” You turn back fully facing her with an impish disbelief, grasping at the sheets to cover yourself. 
Sam looked at you with childish glee on her face. “Excuse me, you were the one who brought up work. I’m simply reminding you of what you are absolutely missing while I’m on leave for today, mi princesa.”
“Fine, fine. It's not my fault that I’m a corporate slave.”
“That’s why being with me is a good idea.” Sam insists with a kiss on your jugular notch. “Come on, I was planning to make your favorite dish. Maybe you can do it with me, what do you think?” 
“Very professional.” You sigh at Sam’s silliness unfolding in front of you. “You just know all the right words to say…”
She crawled her way to you, shutting you up by capturing your lips with soft ones. It was chaste and you felt her smile in between. Moments like this only tugged at your heartstrings. It deluded you that it was somehow coming home to your girlfriend, only to be shaken to the reality of you knowing it was an unlabeled limbo with an old friend. So you shift, initiating with much force this time, getting rough with how you were kissing Sam as though it was your last time. 
“Am I still annoying if I do… this?” You feel Sam’s calloused fingers smoothly trailing on your inner thighs, making you shiver. You throw your head back as you reeled to her touch. The familiar wetness reemerged on your core once again.
Before she could do anything else, her phone rang. Sam immediately went for it and barely a trace of her sweet disposition remained as she excused herself.
You blinked at her reaction, paying not much mind to it. Instead, you let your body relax in the softest mattress you’ve ever laid on and quickly, you’re pulled by the thoughts of Sam again, missing her already as you sprawl onto the bed, smelling the distinct coconut shampoo and addicting lotion that she uses and how it clung to the space you laid in. 
Half an hour had passed. Getting up, you look around where she could have been, only to find her out in one out of two living rooms, absorbed with the phone call she's in. It wasn’t your plan to eavesdrop but your heart sank soon as the words became much clearer to your ears. 
"Yes, I'm dropping by the strip club tonight... of course." 
Strip club… tonight? Her words came out in a hush, obviously Sam didn’t want to be heard or rather, caught. No wonder she has been insistent on you to stay this morning. 
You simply weren't Sam's fix for this evening.
With cautious steps, you retreat back to Sam's bedroom and with the disgust that brewed in, bile rising in your throat, you start dressing up.
"I thought we agreed that you're staying?" Sam raised her hands in confusion.
"Work couldn't wait, sorry. It’s bugging me the more I ignore it.”
Sam’s face fell immediately at your sudden change of mind. Your heart twinged a little, almost believing that it was genuine.
"Alright. Let me drive you home, (y/n/n)."
Your smile twitched as you hummed in agreement. Suspicion and confrontation will rise if you didn’t, and given what you just found out, you truly didn’t feel up for it.
"I'm bummed that you won't be cooking with me, just so you know. I'll make it alone - don't worry, it will be filled with love and care, a perfect fix as you get your reports done." Sam enthusiastically clasped her hands to you and it only made harder for you to stop the tears that were threatening to pour.
The way Sam took you in her grasp, arms loosely clung around your neck and the mesmerizing gaze she held was doing the opposite reaction. You felt repelled, uneasiness continued to flow through your mind. You've just heard her in the same beat a few minutes ago planning to go to not only a mere club to drink for fun - but a strip joint? Her intentions became even more confusing to you.
Your resolve was crumbling and it was becoming apparent when Sam leaned in for a hopeful kiss and you dodged it, her puckered lips hit the corner of your mouth instead. If she was baffled and had finally picked up your sour mood, you didn't see it as you continued to avoid her gaze.
The car ride was silent. It didn't even occur to you that Sam actually drove you home, but instead of filling the space with laughter and bickering over your taste in music, the two of you were met with an odd silence. You peer at the window throughout the ride, the silent turmoil grew inside of you at the backseat as the car drove on your way home. Eyes fluttering rapidly, you feel the waterworks coming in. Of course this was only a matter of time before it was confirmed to you that you weren’t only the one being fucked by Sam. 
You felt gross. The inkling worry that filled you previously turned out to be right. You just hated yourself for blindly trusting her and giving further meaning to her mistaken gentleness. 
::
Honestly, you did plan that to be your last time to see Sam.
At least temporarily, you wanted to avoid her. You kept making excuses about how you had a lot of work to do. You knew it was unrealistic to actually avoid her forever, not when you literally were tangled with her on her sheets for a couple of months already. Unless you were to flee the country, of course. The idea is slightly tempting. You consider it, albeit impractical, it’s one of your last resort of choices. 
You were used to her scent from her bedsheets to her clothes and to her sleepy self arguing that she is very much awake during your random movie nights, her voice – everything revolves around Sam now and you hated it.
It felt like you were a teenager again with a hopeless crush on the girl you’ve liked from afar for years.
Even as you pulled away from Sam, your brain was racking through heaps of what-if thoughts – were you ever enough? Why did she have to make you feel so special, leading you into this domestic bliss? She always made time. Besides the good, you witnessed her downs, the aggressiveness, how her indistinguishable job took a toll on her. All because she let you in. You wondered why she even thought of you as worthy as such, yet made you feel of being less than that, at the same time?
However, if there is a light to all of this domesticity you shared with Sam that gave you warmth, there were also a lot of questionable actions that she specifically kept on doing. She appeared hesitant with dropping you off to your house and insists that one of her drivers will do the honors instead – with the sex on the table, it made you feel disposable and cheap – or how sometimes hours after sex; you get a sleepy glimpse of Sam sneaking onto the balcony. The faint noises of her raised voice in her phone, doing god knows what – you were there, unaware if it was a conversation with another woman and maybe, just maybe, Samantha Loomis wasn't as heartfelt as you naively believed her to be.
As you expected she didn’t drop by at your house. Her little gifts and take outs from restaurants that you liked and visited with her continued to be sent every weekend. You didn’t know whether it was out of pity or a proper goodbye in her own terms, making your stomach churn uncomfortably at the thought.
Your friends weren’t any less worried even with your now constant appearances for hangouts and karaoke nights, they gently explained that your mind often fled elsewhere and your gloomy disposition was noticeable. It’s not that they were annoyed, your friends were concerned more than anything. So, you finally open up but not too much. You retell you were in this Friends with benefits recently and it ruined your sanity, for better or worse, all in vague descriptions. After all, you were sure that now Sam was more likely ashamed of being seen by you and wanted to keep her bachelorette status.
The chorus of oh sweetie in an understanding tone immediately came and when they hugged you, it worsened the longing you felt for Sam and how you have been entangled with her this whole time.
“It sucks how you can get roped into that so suddenly.” Jane, your friend, empathised. “does that count as a situationship – or whatever it is they call it nowadays?”
“Let’s call it friends with benefits for the sake of simplicity.” Margo, the colleague who ironically was one of the main reasons why you got into the gala and met Sam, nodded her head with no hesitation. “I don’t understand why it is that hard to communicate something simple as that. And getting her fix of pleasure in another place, too, Jesus Christ.”
“Feels a bit of a power trip to me. Based on what you’ve said, how she’s got a sexy mysterious vibe going on and while that sounds sexy in other ways, I can only imagine how it must’ve taken a toll on you, (y/n).” Jane adds with a forlorn expression on her face.
They were expressive with their opinions - you liked how your friends were very protective of you. They felt betrayed almost as much as you do soon as you mentioned that Sam was a friend of yours way back.
Although, you hated how there’s a lump in your throat and a part of you was ready to jump in Sam’s defense. Before you drown more in the thoughts of her, you decided to pour another shot. 
“Fuck that. Let’s drink to this,” your words come out slurred and your friends only follow suit.
Sam didn’t stop spamming you with messages. It was expected considering that she’s the most insistent person you have met yet. Still, you shrug her off, saying that you work overtime these days and you don’t feel like being a booty call for a while – or ever for her. But Sam’s resolve proved to be unwavering as she updated you about her thoughts and invites of coming back home; her words, not yours.
::
“You know, if you’re up for it, you should totally meet this girl. Most blunt person I’ve met yet, so.” Margo indiscreetly implies that it shouldn’t be as troublesome as your previous limbo was. “She’s also really hot. And just down for either something casual or serious, depends how you talk about it.”
“Margo, you know I don’t think–” you shake your head. Besides being full of what-ifs and considering that you might have a good time, your thoughts keep bouncing back to a specific Latina in your mind.
Your mind swirls, not knowing why it feels like a betrayal deep down.
“Just give it a chance.” Margo interrupts, firm with her stand. “One date. It’s also been almost two weeks since you’ve been moping. You know we don’t mind that but- I just wanted to tell you that the dating pool is full of choices. 
What’s the worst thing that can happen?”
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do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre
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onelonelysaiyan · 5 months
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Hazbin Hotel Adam Relationship Headcanons
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Fairly gn, i tried my best! This is kind of my starting point for getting back into writing, let me know what you guys think! <3
-DAD BOD!!!!! You CANNOT change my mind on this 
-Hairy arms, legs, a little on his chest, has a really nice happy trail 
-Strong arms, good at cuddling  
-Uses wings a lot in his body language 
-Enjoys when you preen his wings, makes him feel loved 
-Tries to be less rude and mean when talking to you 
-LOTS of petnames; Angel, babe, baby, mommy/daddy, sugartits, sweetie, sweetheart, sugar, dollface, wifey/husband
-Super clingy, like, to an obsessive extent sometimes. Will get upset if you’re not spending enough time (in other words, all of your time) with him. Calls you all day if you’re apart, will text if you tell him to stop calling. Has to know where you are, who you’re with, if you’re safe. Has absolutely spied on you before, and has made poor Lute follow you around on numerous occasions. He just wants to make sure you’re alright!  
-Big Baby. He’s so whiny and needy, please coddle him. Not in public, but like when you’re alone just hold him and run your fingers through his hair. Kiss his forehead. Hold his hands. Let him rest his head on your chest, he needs it 
-PDA is his thing, but in general his love language is touch so expect lots of physical contact ALL the time unless you just really don’t like that kind of thing 
-Absolute tease, doesn’t matter where you are. Love to rile you up even if he’s not looking for anything to happen afterward. Just likes seeing your red face 
-Will talk to/at you for HOURS, about literally anything and everything. Like please, babe, just shut up for like, five seconds? 
-KISS HIM WHEN HE’S RAMBLING. Shut this asshole up with the sweetest way you know, he’ll fall for you all over again 
-Honestly just kiss him, any time will do. Might act a little upset if he’s in the middle of a sentence but he loves it, please kiss him more 
-Likes to spend the rare day off by laying in bed with you and just holding you, all lazy kisses and gently roaming hands while you lay on his chest 
-Give him chest kisses!!! Especially over his heart, practically melts when you do, it’s just so sweet and intimate to him and he feels so loved when you do 
-Loves to play with your hair, long or short. Sometimes tangles it on accident, but he’s willing to brush it back out for you if you’ll let him 
-Will just stare at you sometimes, he’s so in love. He wants to make sure he commits every detail of your beauty to memory, even if he’s already done so numerous times before. 
-Will absolutely adore it if you train with him and his exorcists, even if you can’t always keep up. You’re trying and it’s cute as hell 
-Will brag about you to anyone and everyone. Can be rather inappropriate about it, but he really can’t help it! He wants everyone to know how perfect you are and how you chose him out of everyone.
-Possessive, can’t stand seeing others trying to flirt with you. He understands why they would, after all, you’re the hottest being in Heaven! Who wouldn’t want you? But he still doesn’t appreciate it. Will march up to you and the other person before wrapping his arms around you and fluffing out his wings to make himself seem bigger (which really isn’t necessary, the man’s an absolute GIANT already...) 
-Speaking of being a giant, this man loves to engulf you with his body. He’s just so big that no matter what size you are he practically swallows you whole when he holds you. Thinks it’s super cute how small you are compared to him 
-Plays his guitar for you a lot, loves to sing for you too. Will make you attend band practice to get your approval of new songs and honestly just so he can see you while he plays. Gives him an ego boost to see you cheering him on both in practice and at shows and he’s certain he sounds better when he knows you’re there watching
I've got a fair few NSFW headcanons too so let me know if that's something y'all would be interested in!
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The four times you fell asleep on Ghost and the one time Ghost fell asleep on you - four.
simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader
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word count: 4.7k
synopsis: Price decides to have a movie night on base. You and Ghost have The Talk.
warnings: occasional swearing, man written by a woman (may have slightly idealised Ghost), miscommunication, emotionally constipated Ghost and reader, the episodic mentions of Ghost's groaning and blonde eyelashes, brief appearance of Keegan Russ, mentions of smoking
notes: this was not supposed to be this long, but ideas just kept coming and coming. As I have mentioned before, this was initially intended to be a filler chapter for the "grand finale" (aka the one where he falls asleep on you) - so this is why the ending may seem a little bit rushed.
reader's callsign is Bambi (she/her)
find it on ao3 part one part two part three part four part five
masterlist
four.
“So you want to have a movie night here, on base?”
“A movie night, tonight?”
“Can we bring snacks? And drinks?”
“What are we going to watch?”
Seated at his usual place in the mess hall, Captain John Price found himself struggling to hide the proud, fatherly smile that threatened to spread on his face. He was surprised by the enthusiasm with which his idea of a movie night had been met, yet there you were, all curious and excited about it. You were seated between Soap and Gaz, your food momentarily forgotten as you started planning the entire evening around his proposal. You three were so caught up in debating whether you should mix in all types of popcorn with nachos that you did not notice the insistent glances of the passersby. Or the aggressive glares that Ghost was shooting back, his balaclava only highlighting the coldness of his features.
It was the second day after your night out at the pub and after thinking about the events over and over again, he accepted, with resignation, that his innate need to protect you and keep you from harm's way had only grown stronger. Ghost was a man of few words and certainly, not one to publicly display his feelings, so when you came to him in the morning and thanked him for taking care of you when you got wasted, he just shrugged it off with a piss-poor remark that you would do the same for him. He did not miss the blush that spread across your face when you answered that you absolutely would, if there would ever be such an occasion, and left him with an awkward pat on the shoulder. Which was kind of ironic since, two nights before, you climbed him like a beanstalk and clung to him like a koala.
And there he was, longing for any kind of interaction from you, like the touch-starved mess that he'd become. He would have placed himself next to you at the table, but he didn't want to give Price more satisfaction - the older man had already figured out enough about the intensity of his feelings about you, the Polaroid that Simon now kept safely tucked in his wallet being proof of it.
And what was this with Price's sudden idea of a movie night? Ghost knew the Captain insisted on having a united team whose members can trust each other, after all that's why he handpicked you all to join, but another gathering besides the night spent at the pub was way too much for his social battery.
At least you had all accepted his quiet persona from the beginning, not attempting to push his buttons more than it was necessary.
Until you fell asleep on him in the lounging room.
And then again at the safe house.
And then again at the pub.
"Ghost, do you copy?"
Your delicate voice pulled him out of his thoughts, only for him to be met with the questioning look that was etched in your face.
"I know that look!", Soap quickly chimed in, a daring smirk on his face. "Who's the lucky woman, L.T.?"
"Or man- which is totally fine too!", Gaz added with an equal devious expression.
Both of them shut up when Ghost shot them his signature threatening look, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw the tender smile on your face slightly falter. Before giving anyone the chance to further ruin the moment, he willed his eyes on you, softening his voice as much as he could:
"I'm sorry, Bambi. 'were you saying?"
"Would you like to join me later on a trip to the supermarket for snacks? I don't trust these two menaces with such an important task!"
He gulped loudly at the sight of the pleading look in your eyes, not entirely sure if you were just playing him, or if the doe eyes were really making a return. At that point, Simon had already memorized your features, being able to draw them with his eyes closed, but his heart still fluttered upon seeing your large and round irises, brimming with innocence and tenderness.
Additionally, he could feel Price's unwavering gaze burning into the back of his head. And he had a feeling the Captain would force his ass into the first available car and drag him to the supermarket with you.
"Sure - we can take my car... plenty of space for groceries", his words trailed off at the sight of the satisfied grin you gave him, your eyes brimming with joy. "We could go after the combat training if it's ok with you..."
"Absolutely! Thanks, Ghost, you're the best!"
You rose from your seat and placed your hands on his shoulders in what was meant to be half a hug before jogging out of the mess hall, a hot blush spreading across your cheeks.
The memories of the previous night were still blurry in your head, but you could recall the unique feeling of your cheek being pressed against a chest - Ghost's chest, the distinct smell of him still lingering on the black t-shirt you had neatly folded and placed on your bed. You did not plan to wash it any time soon.
You had thanked Ghost for taking care of you, but after the morning coffee chat you had with Soap, you actually felt the need to apologize for being such a burden. Of course, Soap had been just as intoxicated as you, so you couldn't place too much trust in his words. However, the recent teasing about the person that occupied Ghost's thoughts, made you feel uneasy about the whole situation. Were you being too clingy and touchy towards him - did you cross any of his boundaries? You hadn't even realised when you'd let your guard down in his presence, but it was certain that falling asleep on him without any negative reaction from his side, marked a significant step in that direction.
But now you had a chance to figure things out in the way adults do: by openly communicating with him. And the trip to the supermarket was the perfect cover-up for it.
You just had to keep to yourself until then - maybe try to limit your interactions with him as overstepping his boundaries was the last thing you'd wanted to do. It couldn't be that hard, right?
---
It was barely noon, and Ghost couldn't figure out what he'd done so wrong to make you avoid him like the plague. Did you get upset at him for not returning the hug? Did he not seem excited enough about the trip to get snacks?
Did someone put something in your food and you suspected him?
He thought it was nothing at first. After all, it would have been unusual for you to sit next to him at the morning briefing as you usually had a spot next to Gaz. But then you did not even seem to acknowledge his presence at the shooting range, barely muttering a greeting when passing him on the way to the lockers.
And now, ironically enough, you chose to spar with one of the Ghosts- none other than their scout sniper, Keegan Russ. On the one hand, it was actually a good move: you could learn and trade tips and tricks with a sniper as good as he was. On the other hand, Simon did not like the way his hands seemed to linger over your body every time you mounted an attack, or how his chest puffed when he was trying to walk you through some new move. Like him, Keegan always wore a balaclava in public, but unlike him, the younger operator did not seem to care about hiding his emotions: everyone could tell that he was smirking as he extended his hand to help you get up after he'd mercilessly tossed you on the mat.
Yet the next thing he knew, he was the one making contact with the mat, his back absorbing most of the impact. The sudden reversal in the sparring match left him momentarily disoriented, his eyes still searching for you and your new combat partner. It wasn't until he spotted Soap's concerned expression, the Sergeant hesitantly hovering above him, that he showed any intention of getting up. The Scot subtly followed his line of sight until his eyes landed on you and Keegan. You were beaming at him as he seemed to tell you a story based on the frantic way his hands moved, his icy blue eyes fixed on you as he spoke.
"Seems I got ya good, L.T.", Soap said as he helped Ghost back on his feet, giving him a slight pat as an apology. "Do you want to call it a day or-?"
He could barely hide his smirk before receiving a growl and a criminal side-eye in response. And he let his guard down as the next thing he knew, his arm was caught in a firm grip and his body flew over Ghost's shoulder, landing on the training mat with a loud thud. He could not stifle the groan that escaped him and closed his eyes in resignation. Once again, he learnt the hard way not to mess with the big man with the scary mask.
"Wipe that smirk off your face, MacTavish. We're here to train, not to ogle at others!"
"Copy that, sir!"
---
"I'm just telling you, Keegan, you've got to man up and talk to her!", you said between breaths as you dodged his incoming shots. "You wanted girl advice from a girl? Now you have it!"
"How can I know it won't just scare her off? Should- should I take off my mask, do you think that she'll see that as a clear sign that - you know?"
"It'll definitely be a step in that direction..."
Your words momentarily trailed off as you stole a glance at Ghost who was currently caught up in his own sparring match with Soap. He'd traded his usual skull mask for one of his balaclavas, and he wore his usual black t-shirt that allowed you to fully take in his tattoed arms, rippling with muscles and scars. Maybe limiting your interactions with him was a bad idea. Not that you had something against teaming up with Keegan - you two needed to do some catching up - and it was just the right time for it, but you felt you could have learnt a lot from the Lieutenant.
And at that moment you didn't mind being pinned to the ground by him, just like he did with Soap.
"So did you convince him to take his mask off?"
Keegan's question took you by surprise, as did his left foot, which interlocked with yours and sent you falling face-first. You could tell he was smirking under the balaclava as he helped you back up, and a grin also spread on your face as you shook your head in acceptance:
"Why would I ever do that?"
"Because I can feel his death stare on me right now and... I saw the picture from the lounging room. I think it was rather cute, you know?"
"No, I don't..."
The words came out slowly as your mind was trying to figure out what he could be talking about. The only pictures you had with Ghost were the ones taken after important missions, the ones with the other members of Task Force 141 and whoever may have been involved. And it was safe to say they could not be described as "cute".
"Oh come on, don't play dumb - the Polaroid picture from the lounging room? The one where you-"
"Sergeant L/N, 'you ready to go? I'll meet you at the car in 10."
Despite having interrupted your conversation, Ghost did not seem fazed by it. He didn't even wait for your confirmation- just turned his back on you and started walking towards that door with a certain smugness in his gait. As he took in the scene, Keegan's smirk widened under the mask. He may have needed girl advice, but boy- scratch that -special forces operator advice was a topic he was well versed in.
"I wouldn't make him wait if I were you", he resumed shrugging his shoulders and giving you a sympathetic look. "And thanks for the advice, I'll keep you posted on the situation!"
---
It took you 7 minutes to get changed and jog to Ghost's usual parking spot and he was already there, smoke in his hand. Even so, you felt the need to mutter a quick apology before getting in and fastening your seatbelt. Ghost was quick to follow, hopping into the driver's seat and starting the car.
He internally sighed when the radio began playing. It was going to be a long ride.
You, on the other hand, rested your head against the window, your mind brimming with questions about the mysterious picture that Keegan had mentioned. It was true that you had not checked the wooden panel for any new additions- at one point, you had completely forgotten about it, but it seemed some people took it seriously.
Involuntarily, your gaze slipped to Ghost. The Lieutenant was focused on the road, one hand holding the steering wheel while another rested on the gearstick. He was unusually calm and collected, unlike the chaotic driver you were used to. Did he know about the picture too? Was it bothering him in any way?
The car came to a sudden stop, brakes screeching on the hot concrete as he steered into an empty parking spot. You shot him a confused look as he turned off the engine and turned towards you, his chocolate eyes filled with questions:
"I've had enough", he began in a gruff tone that softened when his eyes landed on your face. "Come on, Bambi, out with it!"
You raised your eyebrows at his question, even if, deep down, you knew it was time for The Talk.
And you were so not prepared for it. So you decided to play dumb.
"Out with what? Do you want me to get out of the car or-?"
"You know what I'm talking about!"
His tone was even and his eyes too gentle for your liking. Part of you had wanted to get him all riled up so that you could justify the outburst that you were on the verge of having. Yet he only raised an eyebrow in question, leaning in the driver's seat and crossing his arms:
"You've been acting weird all day- ignoring and avoiding me. And you kept staring at me for the past quarter of an hour yet now you won't even look me in the eye! You've got to give me a hand here, Bambi because I have no idea what I did wrong!"
It was the second time in the past week that you'd heard him talk that much in one sitting, yet you were busy managing your stress levels, which were currently shooting through the roof. Turns out, you were not ready for The Talk. Communication was overrated anyway-
"You- you didn't do anything wrong and...", you answered incoherently, your mind trying to make sense of the words that were leaving your mouth.
"Y/N..."
"OK, fine! I-am-sorry-for-being-such-a-burden-to-you-and-intruding-your-personal-space-and-falling-asleep-on-you-without-having-your-permission-and-"
"What the hell are you talking about? Who- who even implied that you are a burden to me? Was it Russ- do I need to have a chat with him?"
"Oh no, Keegan had nothing to do with it. He was actually asking me for advice about this nurse he met and- you know what? Yeah, let's not go there..."
"I fully agree", Ghost nodded in compliance, partly amused by the unexpected oversharing side of you. "But, Bambi, you... You could never be a burden to any of us. Do you understand that?"
A sudden wave of clarity swept over your thoughts after you talked about it, and with it also came the furious blush that made you bury your face in your hands:
"God, I'm so embarrassed now..."
"Hey, hey, look at me!"
Ghost tried to control the faint shaking of his gloved hand as he placed it on your shoulder. He had figured out something was wrong, but would have never thought that you would see yourself as a burden, that you would intrude on his personal space? Why would you even think of such nonsense in the first place?
"If this is about you getting wasted at the pub, then you've got it all wrong!", he decided to continue when you lowered your hands and exposed the upper half of your face.
"Fucking hell, Y/N, would you quit looking at me with those doe-eyes? You have no idea what you are doing to me right now..."
He did not realise he said it out loud until you widened your eyes even more and proceeded to hide your face in your hands again, muttering a string of apologies. He let out a frustrated groan, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head in disbelief. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he would have to spend the afternoon like that, having this kind of talk in his car, in a random parking lot. Yet there you were, two operators, seemingly with no communication skills and a penchant for hiding your faces in masks and hands.
With careful moves, Ghost removed his gloves, trying to ignore the stark contrast between his fingers and yours. He then extended his hands towards yours, gently pulling them away from your face. The sight of your E/C eyes made him let out a soft sigh:
"I did not mean it like that... there is nothing wrong with the doe-eyes. There's a reason they call you Bambi after all.."
You let out a dry chuckle, your eyes still glued to the ground as you were relishing in the warm feeling of his touch. His hands haven't left yours- in fact, he pulled them into his lap and was currently playing with the metal ring you've quickly slipped on before leaving.
"I don't know who or what made you think you intruded on my personal space. You didn't."
His pause made you raise your eyes back to his face, momentarily losing yourself in his chocolate orbs. Your doe-eyes may have been one of his weaknesses, but his blonde eyelashes were going to be the death of you, you were certain of that.
"And you falling asleep on me? It - I can't believe I'm actually saying it out loud and correct me if I'm wrong in any way - it made me feel good, to know that you felt safe enough to put yourself in a vulnerable position when I am nearby- and not once, but thrice now..."
"Wait- you mean twice, right?"
His chuckle made you widen your eyes in disbelief. He was definitely smirking under the mask.
"Ghost, when was the third time?"
"I just told you all this deep and emotional stuff and this is what you decide to focus on?"
"Well, I am not good at dealing with emotions, as you can see!". The blush was making a rapid comeback.
"The point is", he resumed his idea, "that you have no reasons to think you are a bother to me. You are not. Are we clear?"
"Yes, sir!"
Ghost rolled his eyes as he turned the engine back on and gently let go of your hands, the remnants of your touch still warm on his fingers. He rolled out of the parking lot with ease, trying hard not to replay the awkward conversation that just took place, when your voice chimed in:
"Does this mean... hypothetically speaking, if I were to fall asleep during the movie night, and I were seated next to you..."
"Should I be concerned about your sleeping schedule? Or actually, the lack of it?"
---
You let out a brief sigh of relief as you got out of the car and headed towards the base, Ghost closely following you with two heavy bags in his hands. He refused to let you carry the bags under the pretence of having already trained hard enough today, but you knew it was just his specific way of reassuring you that things were good between the two of you.
As awkward as it had been, The Talk seemed to have cleared out any miscommunication issues you may have created inside your mind, and it certainly made you not feel bad about the moments you had drifted off on his shoulder. Or arms. Or whatever else place.
And as he was headed towards the kitchen, you made a bee-line to the lounging room, which, to your luck, proved to be empty. You turned on the lights and stopped in front of the wooden panel, your eyes quickly moving from one Polaroid picture to another. It had been a while since you last checked them as there were several additions that you hadn't been aware of: a blurred selfie of Soap and Gaz, a still shot of an unknown operator sipping his tea, a picture of Price, dozing off on his armchair and there it was, a snapshot of you, fast asleep on Ghost's shoulder, the Lieutenant staring at the camera with a blank look.
"I couldn't stop Soap from taking it."
You involuntarily flinched when you heard Ghost's amused voice. He must have snuck up on you as he was currently standing on your right, his eyes fixed on the picture at hand.
"Keegan mentioned it during combat training. I didn't even know it was there", You shrugged your shoulders at him.
"Does it bother you?"
There was something indescribable in his tone that made you halt for a second and look up at him. The glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes was not missed on you and your mind recalled the details of your previous conversation.
"It made me feel good, to know that you felt safe enough to put yourself in a vulnerable position when I am nearby"
"No, I actually kind of like it. Don't you?"
He let out a grunt as confirmation and you tried to fight the smile that threatened to spread on your face. You opened your mouth to tease him about it when Price, Gaz and Soap entered the lounging room, already having changed into civilian clothes. You quickly forgot what you were about to say when you noticed that Price was holding a DVD in his hands- and not just any DVD:
"We're going to watch 'The Bodyguard'?"
The captain busied himself with setting up the DVD player, but you could tell there was a smile on his face:
"What can I say? Your toast inspired me, Bambi!"
You shot a questioning look at Gaz who seemed equally as confused as you were, but then looked over at Soap who was chuckling under his breath:
"I may have left that bit out!", he confessed with a guilty grin, as he sat down on one of the sofas, Gaz joining him quickly.
"You don't remember the toast?", Ghost asked amusedly, having already taken his usual place on the couch. "You called Price 'the cool dad of the group' before blasting out 'I Will Always Love You' on karaoke."
Letting out a long sigh of defeat, you sat down next to Ghost, shaking your head in disbelief. That part of the night was still an empty space in your mind, and listening to bits of it did not help you remember anything about it. Yet you were not surprised by the music choice - it was your usual shower song so why not sing it when totally intoxicated as well?
"You also thanked Simon for taking care of you during the missions and letting you fall asleep on him", Price added quickly before Ghost could interject, a glimpse of his proud dad smile dancing on his face.
You raised your eyes to Ghost in a sheepish look, only to see him roll his eyes and extend his right arm on the couch, almost as an invitation for you to come closer. The lights were turned off and the movie started, but that did not stop you from raising an eyebrow in question. He merely nodded in your direction and you understood the message, trying to scoot over as quietly as possible. You hoped he hadn't heard the small sigh of satisfaction that left your lips when you cuddled up into his side, slightly leaning your head against his chest and taking a deep breath. You knew the movie by heart, it having been an integral part of your childhood, so instead of paying much attention to it, you redirected your efforts towards focusing on the multitude of sensations created by the close contact between Ghost's body and yours.
His familiar scent enveloped you like a comforting blanket, but it was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat that made your eyelids heavy. There was something uniquely special about the whole situation- the intimacy and fragility of the moment mixed with the consistent cadence of his breaths and the occasional vibrations that would resonate from his chest, were lulling you to sleep.
And when you felt his fingers starting to trace circles on your back, you nestled your head in the crook of his neck and drifted off into a peaceful slumber. It seemed that lately, the only good sleep you got was in Simon's arms.
--- bonus scene
The movie had long ended, yet none of you made any attempt to get up and start cleaning after you. The lounging room was still dark, the faint light from the TV casting shadows on the opposite wall. Soap was loudly snoring, perched on his usual place on the sofa. Price had also dozed off in his designated armchair and Gaz was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, a blank look on his face.
Still leaning against Ghost's chest, you were trying to fight the last remnants of sleep that were still lingering around. You were aware that eventually you had to get up and go home, but Ghost's heartbeats were steady and reassuring and the weight of his arm on your back was comforting and warm enough to keep you trapped in between dream and reality.
You were debating whether you should open your eyes or not when, all of a sudden, the room was flooded with light, the unexpected brightness blinding your senses and making you let out a deep groan. You could feel Ghost shifting below, his arm leaving your back and you ended up opening her eyes when he whispered into your ear:
"Get up, Laswell's here!"
You eventually peeled yourself from Ghost, your mind having difficulties processing the piece of information - what was Laswell doing in England? Wasn't she supposed to be in the US, gathering intelligence and coordinating missions?
Yet there she was, in flesh and bone, already heading up the door as she signed you to follow her.
"I can't tell you how glad I am I've got you all here already", she turned to Price as she hurried towards the long hall and into the main briefing room. "It's better than having to call each one of you in the dead of the night.."
"Kate, slow down- what is going on?", John asked in a calming tone, throwing apprehensive looks at the files she was holding in her hands.
"Alright - is everybody here? Bambi, Soap, Gaz, Ghost?"
Laswell locked the door before going back to her usual place. Still dumbfounded from being woken up so suddenly, you looked up at Ghost, but the warm look in his eyes was long gone, replaced by the stone-cold one he sported during missions. You could tell that, internally, he was already preparing for whatever news Laswell was about to deliver. And the grim look plastered on her face, as she turned on the video projector, was foreboding enough:
"A shipment of biological weapons we've been tracking just went missing. We have good reason to suspect that our scouts have been compromised."
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damn-stark · 3 months
Text
Chapter 9 Pure as The Driven Snow
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Chapter 9 of Moonlight
A/N- We’re back with new chapters! I hope you guys like it. I got real nervous writing this. I don't know why! Also is it a sign that your dragon likes your lover more than your husband?
Warning- some swearing, talks of pregnancy, Angst!, fluff, hunting SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.
Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader
Episode- After 1x10 & before 2x01
(If you want to be tagged let me know)
————
*A FEW MONTHS AGO*
“Dragon fruit for the dragon Princess?”
“Pearl necklace for the Siren of Driftmark?”
“Oranges? They are good for a growing babe.”
You touch your 6-month-old swollen belly and come to another stop in front of a stand to study the big round oranges stacked so neatly on the crates.
“How much?” You ask the vendor.
The man puts his hands on his hips and studies his fruit for a moment before facing you. “Discount for you Princess. 5 Silver dragons.”
You glance at Aemond, and he makes his hesitation known before handing you your pouch of money. He doesn’t find this trip necessary, he says that whatever you want can be brought to you right away, especially because you’re with child, but, being stuck in the same rooms all day is torture! You told him the baby and you would go mad while batting your eyelashes really sweetly and he hesitantly accepted without a fight.
“I’ll give you 10 golden dragons instead of silver,” you tell the vendor as you get out the golden coins that make the man’s eyes almost pop out of eyes. “Find good use for it.”
The man shares a nervous laugh and takes the money, but holds your hand before he steps away and bows his head. “Thank you, Princess. Thank you, may the gods bless you and yours.”
You offer him a kind smile, and then gently pull away to pick the oranges, but he suddenly blocks the oranges with his hands. “No, these are no good. I have perfect ones. Juicy and sweet.”
He crouches and pulls out a box from under the table and hands it to you. Albeit before you can even reach for it, Ser Criston takes the box for you.
“Have a nice day, sir,” you direct at the man before you continue down the street lively with people.
“<He ripped you off you know,>” Aemond grumbles in High Valyrian so the people around you wouldn’t understand him.
You scoff softly and hook your arm around his. “In Winterfell, Lady Arra, and Lord Stark treated their people like they were friends and they got respect.” You sigh and shrug gently. “Of course, I know not everyone has good intentions, but Lord Stark taught me how to read people. I try to use his advice when talking to people here, it is why I know this guy was no trickster.”
Aemond hums in comprehension but doesn’t actually agree or take in what you said. You may be down amongst the people, but he’s in the clouds where he’s untouchable. The only thing that matters is your mention of Lord Stark.
“You and Lord Stark are close friends?”
You don’t remove your hand from his arm even if you’re tempted to, you don’t let your eyes flicker even if you have the burning need to look away to hide the truth. You keep the faint smile that decorates your features and keep looking around. “Well considering I lived in Winterfell for five years, yes, we are good friends. Or were.”
“You don’t write?” He probes and keeps his focus on you to try and watch for anything that might give you away. “You often get letters from Winterfell.”
There’s no excuse for a lingering silence, you can’t breathe a certain way because he’s paying close attention, so you turn your head to meet his gaze and share your rehearsed lie. “Sometimes, but I talk to someone else. A lady friend that lives in the castle. One of late Lady Arra’s friends.”
Aemond holds your gaze and tries to pick up on something just a hair out of place, but you keep composed well and he goes unaware once again, letting you let out a small breath and smile with relief.
“I won’t go poor by giving these people something extra. Bless them and the gods bless you. Lady Stark would say that.” You return the subject to what you were previously talking about. “Besides I actually got a craving for oranges. Or the babe did.” You grin and touch your belly again, feeling a small movement now that makes you giddy.
“Feel,” you beckon Aemond and snatch his hand from his side to press it against your small belly. “He’s moving.”
Aemond comes to a stop in the middle of the street and caresses your belly very gently, letting you watch his blue eye soften, and those thin lips show a faint smile.
And since it took him no time to show his affection or his bliss you can’t help but grin in awe before you slide his hand to the other side. “See?” You interject softly. “He wants oranges.”
A wider smile tugs on Aemond’s face before he takes your hand again and continues to walk with you down the street.
“You do not know that it is a boy,” he likes to remind you.
You giggle. “I do. It’s an instinct. When I imagine the babe I see a boy. Always. We will have a boy. I’ll even bet you.”
Aemond scoffs and smirks. “You can place your bets with Aegon. He never turns down the chance to gamble. I believe you.”
“Good,” you grin. “Now I wonder how many kids we will have, six? I want a big family. But if I can’t have so many I will be content with two, but we need to have a baby girl.”
“So you can name her Daenys?” Aemond finishes for you, making you look at him with awe.
“You remember?” You probe.
A small smirk spreads on his lips and he nods. “I do. You’d only bore me with stories about her.”
You roll your eyes. “I wouldn’t bore you. You’d bring me the books!”
“Because it was your favorite,” he counters softly.
You laugh softly and nod. “It still is. Maybe our Daenys will be an amazing dreamer just like the great legend that saved our house.”
“Yes,” he agrees with an obvious glee in his voice. “Maybe.”
You let out a content sigh and rest your head on his shoulder while you take in the stands you pass.
“Spare some food? Money?” A child with his face covered in dirt asks. “Something small?”
“<He just wants to steal from you, they always have money.>” Aemond points out.
Even if he did, you don’t care, you stop and turn to pick out an orange off the box.
The kids' eyes grow curious, and they follow your hand as you move it towards him. You pretend you’re going to give him a single orange, but you then hand it to Aemond and instead grab the box from Ser Criston’s hold.
“Take it,” you tell the kid. “It’s for you.”
You put the box down in front of him and offer him a smile before you move on. This time Aemond doesn’t remark on your actions—you wouldn't care either way, so he just lets it pass and takes your hand in his again so you wouldn’t wander off just as you approach the outer castle gates.
However, before you can cross the courtyard, a woman with a bright red dress walks out of her house and announces something that steals your immediate attention. “Wish to know your future, my Princess?”
“Princess,” Ser Criston immediately interjects. “She’s only trying to take your money. It’s a scam. Leave it.”
You flick your wrist down and take the money pouch from Aemond’s side.
“Your worry is misplaced, Ser,” the pretty lady with beautiful and remarkable colored eyes cuts in. “But I understand. Patience is a fickle thing is it not, Ser Criston Cole? If only you had known it, you would be happy now.” Her eyes dart to you and then go back to him quickly as if trying to point something out.
You don’t read into it, or demand an explanation, you let her continue as she looks between all three of you. “I am a humble servant of the Lord of Light,” she rebuttals, “I only mean to give the Princess insight for her eyes are covered and her soul is basked by darkness.”
You smile at her eagerly and let Aemond go to step towards her. “What is your name?” You ask first.
The woman's bright eyes meet yours and her lips tug upward just slightly. “I am Kinvara, Priestess of the Lord of Light.”
Your name passes Aemond’s lips, but you disregard his warning and the priestess tries to ease Aemond’s worry in your mother tongue. “<I am no one to fear, fear resides in the whispers that are heard in the shadows, and from the lips of pretenders,” she pauses and narrows her eyes on him. “You see clearly with her at your side, venture too far and you're left blind. Don’t let the shadows consume you, My Prince, or darkness is all you’ll know.>”
You glance at him and grin brightly before facing her again. “Now can you tell me what I seek?” You press impatiently.
Kinvara turns and walks inside, speechlessly motioning you to follow, but before you can you face Aemond first. “Wait for me out here,” you tell him.
Aemond shoots you a pointed glare and grabs your arm. “Let’s go. This is all fake. She will take your money.”
You pat his cheek and give him one last piece of reassurance. “She can try but she’ll never steal my riches,” you quip. “I’ll be fine, it’s just for fun.”
You shoot him a small smile and then lean in to kiss his cheek before you follow after the Red Priestess, finding a single fire lit on a golden bowl in the middle of the elegant parlor room.
“How much will it cost?” You ask her as you slowly wander to the stand holding the bowl.
“Nothing but your attention,” she shares in a soothing voice. “And a drop of your blood.”
You stop before the bowl and don’t question offering her your hand even if you should, and Kinvara doesn't make it any harder. She’s quick and doesn’t hesitate picking out a single thin needle before gently cupping your hand and poking the sharp end on the pad of your thumb.
When a scarlet drop of blood crawls out of the small wound she pulls your hand over the flames and turns it to face the flames. After the single drop of blood falls in the flames she lets your hand go and throws the needle in the flames to let the fire eat away at it.
“You have fire-made flesh, a gift from the Lord of Light,” she begins to say bluntly.
You would’ve liked to be eased into it, but you’re no expert so you clasp your hands over your belly and watch her eyes read the dancing flames with curiosity.
“You have salt-littered blood and a dragon-made soul that burns fiercely and passionately; she flies high within the clouds in search of something…” she lets the words slip out as if she was chanting a spell, and then meets your gaze across the flames.
You should be intimidated, but you’re just eager to know more.
“…three hearts,” Kinvara adds. “One made of ice, two of fire. Three soul made dragons…”
Three, huh?
“…and loyalty.”
It’s hard to piece anything together but you still can’t help but feel joy, and an overwhelming curiosity that pushes you to pick at one thing that caught your attention. “Three soul-made dragons? Does it mean I’ll have three kids?”
Kinvara smiles sweetly. “Smart girl, but you’ll have seven. The three I see will grow, they’ll know happiness and long lives.” She hums and blinks whilst her smile fades to a smirk. “But sins will burden them and cast over them like shadows.”
Right away your smile fades and for the first time since you saw her, fear begins to crawl across your mind. “What…does that mean?” You ask quietly.
The red priestess lifts her chin and sighs. “You’ll know.”
How insightful.
“One more thing,” she interjects and moves away from her spot to reach you and grab your hands “Fire kills the girl and awakens the dragon. Follow the flames for they are sweet to you since the moment your right was taken.”
You let out a deep breath and nod stiffly. You don’t understand completely, or at all actually, but you nod in comprehension before you just feed one more piece of curiosity. “Could I read the flames as well?”
Kinvara moves back across the flames and points her chin to the fire, encouraging you to try and read what the flames could tell you.
“You might not see your own future, remember that. If you see anything it will only be glimpses,” she lets you know while you step forward and focus your eyes on the bright flames seeming to lure you in; but not like every other time before, this calling is different now, you don’t have the urge to touch the flames or bathe yourself in their fierce beauty.
What calls you now are whispers; unclear, but trying to make sense in their own way.
“Listen,” Kinvara says as if can read your mind. “And open your eyes.”
She can’t mean your actual eyes because those are already open, she must mean it metaphorically or whatever, and as difficult as it seems you draw out a deep breath and focus on nothing else but the dancing flames; you don’t let Aemond come to mind, nor do you think about what was told to you, you narrow your gaze slightly and watch in silence.
After a few moments, you start to grow irritated, but suddenly before that frustration breaks your focus you freeze and catch your breath when you see snow falling. It’s clear as day as if you’re living through what you see.
Something falls with the snow though, something thicker and different in color. It’s slightly intoxicating and brings a stench of fire and smoke with it.
You have the urge to dive deeper to figure out what you see, but the scene changes to more white plains covered in snow, ashes, and bones, and above it stands a woman with silver hair. She stands above it all while a winter storm descends upon her. You see her start to turn her head but before you can make out her face, fire is all you see.
“<A long winter.> Kinvara breaks the silence and pulls your attention back to her.
“<Yes,>” you respond in High Valyrian as it actually makes sense.
The priestess offers you a smile and walks to the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I’ll see you again.”
You’re left in so much disbelief that you don’t question what she means by “I’ll see you again.”, you bid her a farewell and return to Aemond.
“I was about to barge in there,” Aemond says in a rush.
You blink repeatedly and meet his gaze with your disbelief still clinging to your features. Aemond notices and grabs your shoulders.
“What is it? What did she do?” He hisses.
You draw out a deep breath and with that push away all your disbelief to not worry him over something that’s not clear.
“Nothing, she simply told me we’ll have seven kids,” you share the only thing that was clear.
Aemond scoffs in disbelief but he leaves it at that. Just as you do.
——
*NOW. WINTERFELL*
When you think of home, Aerion, your mother, and your brothers are what you picture in your mind. They are your home, it doesn’t matter the place, as long as they’re with you that’s what you call home.
But oftentimes, when the word home comes up, when you think about home sometimes you picture these tall grey walls, you see these snow-covered hills, the white skies that stretch for miles and bring icy winds and delicate and beautiful snow. You see grey eyes and a timid smile. You remember the warmth from all the fires lit all day and the warmth his body provides. You think of home and someone who isn’t your husband is all you see. You try to fight it, but your longing is stronger than your will.
Now as you stand in these snowy planes and feel this instant comfort fill your heart all you can think about is how dangerous it is.
You were too hasty to make your suggestion and climb your dragon. You’re only steps away and as heart racing as it is, you also can’t help but strain your heart with anxiety as well.
Letters are completely different than seeing face to face again than feeling his hand grab yours and feeling his lips brush your knuckles. Jacaerys is here but will that stop your deep desires? Will that stop him from being mad at you for being distant and not writing to him anymore? Will that stop that tension?
But why is it that a problem?! You’re married! And you love Aemond, he’s your home too; him and Aerion are your family. A family you built after being apart from your own, and even if you have this new strain, you still want to fix it, you still want to fight for Aemond and your family. You have to be strong for them. You can’t give in to what feels comfortable and what your heart might cry for. You have to be strong. You have to be friends and nothing more.
“It’s snowing,” Jacerys muses as he reaches for a snowflake. “I honestly thought there would be more.”
You glance at the open gates and already imagine him waiting in that courtyard in front of his staff, family, and friends. It’s impossible to ignore two dragons descending in front of your home after hearing about an impending war and a call for a declaration from the Greens.
“It’s a lot colder than I thought it would be down here,” Jacaerys adds to his rambling. “How did you ever do it?”
“Well we are in the North,” you mutter unaware of your tone.
“Oh, no need to get snippy, I know where we are,” your brother remarks.
You sigh and turn to him. “Sorry,” you admit. “It's just what if he says no? It’s almost winter, his people need him here. And what would he gain from supporting one or the other, he could just decide to remain neutral.”
Jacaerys leans forward and tries to be assertive. “He’ll gain the Queen's lifelong gratitude, and a chance to prove his loyalty…he’s a Stark, you know that, they take pride in their loyalty. I don’t see why he’ll turn us away. Do you?”
No, but that’s not really why you’re worried, in one form or the other you just needed to be assured.
“I see your point,” you tell him.
Jacaerys gaze lingers on you to be an assuring brother for a moment longer before it’s time to break away from your running thoughts and growing panic and face Cregan with your head held up high, and a fierce determination on your face.
Yet when you walk past those main gates, that fierce determination is met with inklings of worry. Your head is high, but it’s practiced, it’s years of practice, there's a tension on your shoulders, and your breathing is slightly hitched because of your racing heart making your lungs work overtime.
You try to show your confidence in your stride, you are the Queen's daughter after all, but the closer you get to that courtyard the more you hide behind Jacaerys, as if that will help you avoid anything you’re about to face.
If someone were to guess, they’d say it’s your first time here with the way you’re cowering behind your brother and letting him carry all the confidence and pride for you both, but it’s not. As you trail behind your brother, some people you pass by actually recognize you.
You are Winterfell's luminous sun after all, the warmth and light in the darkest winter storm and lightest snow days, capable of melting the most stubborn ice. To their Lord though you are much more and it’s been easy to notice since the moment your purple dragon was seen. You are the reason he smiles, and the sun that gleams in his grey eyes.
But like the sun you hide. You finally make it to the main courtyard but Jacaerys is the first one seen and almost the only one they can see. You don’t want to come out of hiding because you don’t want to see him.
Your heart is pumping so fast, and your hands are trembling. You can almost feel a tightness grab ahold of your chest.
“Jacaerys,” you call out in a quiet panic.
Said man turns and when he does he uses his whole body to move away from you, in that moment leaving a clear and open view of none other than Cregan Stark. There he stands, tall, proud, and mighty. Grey eyes bright and soft even against his hardened gaze. His pink lips form into the faintest smile that you notice right away because you can’t help it, everyone and everything disappears, leaving only him and you in the snow-covered courtyard.
Not even your initial panic exists anymore, it melts away, and your body eases with a simple look into his familiar eyes. Your once-racing heart slows down, but now flutters and skips a beat, and you can’t stop it. Just like he can’t help himself because here you are again, across from him with light snow perfectly raining over you, eyes so deep and captivating that he loses himself within with ease. Your face is basked by a gleam of light that makes you so much more divine, and a heartwarming smile decorates your perfectly sculpted lips.
Now he knows composure, he knows his place, but in this small escape where only you and him exist, it’s costing everything within him not to break away and capture your lips with his. He just wants to grab and kiss you, but your trance is broken by the sound of your name being announced followed by your house.
“…of House Velaryon, wife of Aemond Targaryen.” And then there's that ridiculous reminder that you are not his anymore.
Luckily that cruel reminder is not with you, instead, there’s another, smaller in stature, but still standing tall and mighty with gold dragon emblems on his belt and on his cloaks broach. He proudly wears the colors black and red which shows who he is without the need of an introduction.
“Prince Jacaerys, of house Velaryon,” the guard still announces the man you’re accompanied with.
“My Prince, my Princess,” Cregan speaks in that thick northern accent that makes your heart swoon. “Welcome to Winterfell.” He bows his head, and the crowd behind him mirrors him.
When he raises his head again and stands tall the first thing he does is meet your gaze. You should glance away and share why you’re here, but you part your lips and only a soft breath comes out as you hold his gaze.
“It’s a pleasure to have you back, Princess,” Cregan addresses you formally, hiding away the history you share. “The North has missed you.”
Your cheeks grow warm, and your lips form a flattered smile before you announce it. “You flatter me, My Lord. I have missed the North, and the snow as well.”
He huffs in amusement and spares a glance at the falling snow. “Well you’re lucky then, it just started to snow. It seems you brought a late summer snow with you.”
You share a breathless giggle, and his eyes share his awe.
“My Lord,” Jacaerys cuts in and reminds you he’s here too.
“Oh right,” you cut in and look at your brother, seeing his eyebrows furrow as he looks at you and then glances at Cregan. You ignore him and grab his arm to go on proudly. “Lord Stark, my brother, and my mother's heir, Jacaerys Velaryon.” You share what he was already told, but it feels right to introduce him yourself again. “Jacaerys, this is Lord Cregan Stark.”
“It's a pleasure, my prince, welcome to the North,” Cregan addresses him kindly, making you smile. “Your sister has told me many tales about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Your brother bows his head. “Likewise, my sister speaks fondly of her stay here too.”
Cregan glances at you and the corner of his lips twitch ever so slightly.
“I do wish I was here under better circumstances to have some of that fun my sister always goes on about,” Jacaerys starts to get to the point, leaving no time to wander. But that’s good, you are here on business, you can’t forget that.
“But unfortunately we are here under orders of the Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Jacaerys proclaims, making the crowd murmur as the whispers they’ve heard are finally confirmed.
Cregan nods stiffly and glances back at his great hall just behind him. “I assumed so,” he says and looks back at Jacaerys and you. “Let’s go talk inside. I’m sure this change of weather is not so agreeable for southerners used to warm summers.”
Jacaerys scoffs softly and nods before he follows Cregan’s lead unaware of the fact that he’s leaving you behind as you’re stopped by some people in the crowd.
“Princess,” a thin middle-aged man who works inside the castle greets you and steals your attention.
“Good sir, John,” you greet him with a smile. “How is your daughter?” You ask as you remember how she had been when you left.
The man nods eagerly and smiles in return. “Very well, my princess. Healthy and strong. The gods let her survive her fever,” he shares and points behind you. You follow his line of gaze and see his daughter in a tall tower watching what you can only assume are the dragons in the distance.
“I told you she’s strong,” you tell him with genuine relief.
“Princess,” one of the cooks addresses you, making you turn to her and smile.
“Ms Maribell,” you turn your attention to her. “I’m glad to see you.”
“And you,” she returns sweetly. “I hear you have a son, where is he now? Why didn’t you bring him?”
You nod. “Yes,” you share excitedly and touch your chest. “Aerion. He’s four months old, but sadly I had to leave him behind with my mother, what I’m out here doing is no place for children I’m afraid. But I do want to bring him after these affairs are in order.”
“When you do, stop by here,” she suggests. “I’m sure he’ll love Winterfell as much as you did.”
You grin and nod, but before you can add more to your friendly conversation, your name cuts through the icy breeze. You look over and see your brother with a pressing look.
“My brother beckons me, I’ll see you all later,” you excuse yourself and offer them a small head bow before you stride to your brother and take his arm.
“<We are not here for a friendly visit,” he whispers sharply in High Valyrian. “I know your history here, but please stay focused.>”
You sigh and look ahead, catching Cregan’s vigilant gaze focused on you after he, unbeknownst to you, watched you interact with his people and treated them like they were your long-lost friends. It honestly fills his heart with a warmth that makes his grey eyes gleam with a joy that you easily notice against his nonchalant expression while he waits for you and your brother.
Since he so often wears a hardened expression on his face it’s hard to know what he feels, but after five years you learned how to read him like a soulmate reads its other half without a need for words. Yet you don't know the exact reason why he was so touched.
“Forgive our delay,” Jacaerys instantly brings up like a proper Prince. “My sister is easily distracted.”
Cregan lets you walk in the great hall first and once the doors close behind him he huffs and responds. “Yes, I remember, so do not worry, my Prince.”
You glance at your brother and pass him a teasing look. He meets your gaze and shoots you a warning glare before he brings you both to a stop just under Lord Stark’s throne.
“I hope the northern winds weren’t too harsh,” Cregan addresses while he walks to his chair.
“Well they were colder the closer we got to Winterfell, but they helped our dragons pick up speed to deliver this message from Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Jacaerys makes a quick workaround to why you’re here.
“Just last night I received an envoy from your uncle who calls himself King as well,” Cregan says as he takes the sealed scroll from Jacaerys.
“No, you got an envoy from a Usurper,” you immediately correct him. “The true ruler is the one the late King Viserys appointed as his heir, Queen Rhaenyra. That never changed nor was it his will for it to change after his death.”
Cregan glances at you and stares at you in silence for a moment as he processes your words before he finally opens the scroll and reads what was written.
“Your father bent the knee to Queen Rhaenyra when she was named heir, and swore that House Stark and the North will follow the line of succession,” Jacaerys adds to the point to try and further convince Cregan. “Now Queen Rhaenyra’s throne was stolen and demands you follow your father's path and stand proudly in support of her rule and war if it arises.”
You have seen so little of your brother's political side since you were reunited, so now that you see it you can’t help but be in awe of the man standing tall beside you, proving himself a worthy heir.
“Your words move me,” Cregan finally interjects as he lowers the scroll to look at Jacaerys and you. “And your presence honors me. Winterfell is almost at the edge of the world, but you still came to deliver this in your mother's regard,” he says and makes some of that tension release from Jacaerys shoulders. “I know of my father's oath to your Queen. I also know how deep disloyalty cuts when it’s made by one’s own kin, your sister was here to witness my uncle usurping my rightful place as Lord…which is why I do not intend to break oath today. The North will not break oath today,” Cregan proclaims confidently and with no falter, relieving your brother of his worry, but not yours.
“But,” Cregan proves your worry worthwhile. “Winter is coming my Prince, my Princess. And these seem almost like family affairs. The Queen has my loyalty, but why should we support this war? My priorities are with my people and providing for them before Winter arrives.”
You and Jacaerys share a conflicted look, but neither of you are stuck on what to say, you're just debating who should speak in your defense. You with an advantage, or Jacaerys with a blunt but respectful tongue?
Honestly, you both probably have great points, but in your speechless exchange, Jacaerys trusts you.
“I understand,” you argue and step forward, gaining all of Cregan’s attention. “I have not lived a true winter, but I understand your hesitance, My Lord. I understand your people need you now more than ever, but the Greens have an advantage, that’s something we can admit, and they will not be afraid to use it against you, and your Queen. They already steal from her, will you stand to see them take more? Will you stand and see your people and lands burnt? Will you sit and do nothing as injustice is acted upon your Queen? Or will you and your people fight for what’s right, and for the greater or good of the North?”
Cregan shifts in his seat and keeps his hardened gaze on you for a long and tense silence. You could read what he might be thinking, but you look at your brother and fall back by his side to wait for a response.
“Your words move me,” Cregan interjects with a small huff. “And leave me a lot to think about. I hope you understand my choice will not be taken lightly, I must speak with my own people on these matters, just be assured that the North supports the rightful Queen.”
Cregan stands from his seat and Jacaerys steps forward to cut in. “How long will we have to wait?”
Cregan raises his chin. “Soon, I swear,” he promises. “As for now, you must be tired from your travel. Baths will be drawn in your quarters, and supper will be served shortly in this hall.”
You draw in a deep breath and much to your surprise you’re the one who grows impatient instead of Jacaerys. “Thank you, My Lord Stark,” you deadpan and bow your head.
Said man catches your tone before the change on your face, but says nothing on the matter. Instead, he walks down and points to the door that leads to your apartments.
Yet before you can make any attempt to walk out, the doors open and a servant carrying a dark-haired child walks in, and without as much as insight to clue you in, you know who the child is right away, you can see it in his familiar dark eyes, and that kind resting face.
“Oh gods,” you muse excitedly and lose all your annoyance in the blink of an eye. “Is this baby Rickon?” You direct at Cregan.
“Yes, this is my boy,” he assures you and you don’t wait for the wet nurse to come to you, you meet her halfway.
“Jacaerys,” you exclaim as you grab the child’s hand with a bright grin. “I helped deliver this child!” You squeal and turn back to the baby.
“I believe it,” your brother mutters.
“Hello little Lord,” you greet the baby a bit too excited. “Look at you, you look like your mother…May I?” You direct at the wet nurse, and she doesn’t hesitate to hand you the child who is a mirror of Arra.
“Hello,” you greet him again a lot softer this time since he looks at you puzzled. “I know you don’t remember me, but I remember you. How old are you now? 1?”
You don’t expect an answer, but the baby does. “Hello.”
You beam at him and caress his head while you share a happy look at Cregan. “I can’t believe it. Words truly aren’t enough, Rickon is so big. I’m so proud.”
“He would’ve been out to greet you but you caught him in his naptime,” he says and steps towards you but keeps his distance.
“He looks like his mother,” you tell him and look back at Rickon, catching him taking the pearls around your neck. “Ah, yes, nice huh?”
“Hello,” he says again, making you laugh and turn to start heading to your quarters with the others trailing behind you. “My Aerion likes my jewelry too,” you tell him. “But he likes to suck on it. You just like to look at it, hm?”
“I reckon this little lord is a lot kinder than your Aerion,” Jacaerys teases as he falls by your side.
You roll your eyes at your brother and reassure Rickon. “Don't listen to him. He’s just mad because Aerion can sense his impatience. He’s very sweet, and I’m sure when he’s older you’ll be great friends. I’ll make sure of it.”
The baby is unbothered by what you say, but you couldn’t be more happier than to see Cregan and your friend's child. He reminds you of Arra, and when you think of Arra you think of where you are, and when you think of where you are all you feel is that comfort embracing you harder, consuming you little by little.
Which is dangerous, you know. The longer you stay here the more you let yourself get consumed by what’s familiar and kind that the reality in the distance becomes easy to forget.
But you can’t. You can’t let yourself feel complete comfort or you’ll run the risk of falling into the temptation you long for the most. Thus when you finish your bath you don’t linger in your borrowed quarters, nor do you explore what you left behind out of curiosity to see what’s new, you act as if you’ll be leaving any minute and visit where Arra was put to rest.
Yet that temptation finds you there and puts it all at risk. You don’t know about his looming presence until you turn away from Arra’s tomb.
“Lord Stark,” you gasp.
Cregan bows his head. “Forgive me I did not mean to startle you, I did not want to interrupt your moment that's all.”
You laugh nervously and glance back at Arra’s tomb. “If I did not visit her while I was here she would haunt me.”
Cregan hums and you stop avoiding his gaze to look into his grey eyes.
You had hoped to contain yourself, but in the silence that falls as you just look at one another, you can’t contain your joy, it takes over you and before you know it you’re beaming like a shining sun and striding over to him.
Cregan gives in the moment you break and meets you halfway with a tight and warm embrace.
“I had come to terms with not seeing you again,” Cregan breaks the silence first as he holds onto you.
“Me too. I really did not think I would see you again,” you murmur excitedly and hold on for longer than either of you wanted to. You just can’t seem to let go even if there's a shared silence in which you keep in words that you both are aching to say and just add tension.
“I…I’m happy to see you again,” he says instead and pulls back to face you
“You grew out your hair,” you point out to change the subject. “You said long hair was for barbarians.”
Cregan chuckles, and you smirk. “Well, I thought I could try it out,” he says. “And it keeps my neck warm.”
You study his brown hair that falls just above his shoulders and let yourself have this one thing. “I like it. It suits you well.”
Cregan offers you a thankful nod and takes this time to study you closely again. “You seem happier this time around,” he points out.
You scoff. “What are you saying? Did I look miserable when I got here six years ago?” You tease lightheartedly.
Cregan nods. “Yes. You did. This time you look happy though.”
You sigh and glance at the exit as if you’d see your brother. “Yes, well my brother is here. As annoying as he can be, I am happy he came with me.”
“Mhm.”
You smile softly in response and to avoid staring too long into his eyes you start to walk out. But for a few seconds as you walk aimlessly there’s a silence that lingers until he finds what to say. “Arra’s friend came to see me a few days after you left.”
You glance at him with a curious gaze and probe. “Why?”
He exhales deeply and confides in you what he hasn't had the heart to share in letters. “She came to blame me for her death. She said I was the reason she died.”
You come to an immediate halt, and he follows suit and slowly turns to face your sorrowful face.
“She was hurt, Cregan. It was not your fault. She was just grieving,” you try to comfort him even if he didn’t ask for it because you know how much guilt he already carries for Arra’s death and because you can't stand hearing him blame himself.
“Well, there is some truth to it is there not?” He says breathily and averts his gaze.
You draw in a deep breath and reach out, but before you can touch his arm you clasp your hands and fiddle with your ring. “No. There is not,” you say firmly. “Childbirth is not easy. I hate to admit it but her loss is common. It cannot be helped, so no it is not your fault. Arra’s friend was just grieving the woman she loved.”
Cregan blinks and meets your gaze with gratitude behind his perked lips but hesitation in his grey eyes. You don’t think he’s going to say anything and leave it as him just processing what you said, but as you continue walking side by side he finally interjects hesitantly.
“Your son…how is he?” He asks as if it pains him to actually ask.
You smile proudly. “Good. Spoiled endlessly by all the love my mother is giving him, but he’s good,” you muse. “I wish you could have met him.”
Cregan swallows thickly and finds it in himself to speak. “I wish I could have seen him too, I am sure he looks like you.”
You meet his gaze briefly and nod with glee.
There's so much you can say at this moment, but there’s also so much you can’t say that you end up in this battle of not knowing what you should do. Should you touch into this past that you need to keep closed? Or leave it all unspoken and just filled with tension that threatens to overflow and break you both?
No one would have to know. You could speak about this unspoken past you both cherish…But! Then you think of Aerion, and when you think of your son, you think of his father and once again, you still want to fight for this relationship even if you stand on opposite sides now.
Thus you leave it untouched and just lean towards something else.
However, when you speak Cregan’s name to address something else he also speaks your name, leaving you at a crossroads he luckily lets you cross first. “About why I came—”
“Did you come to sweet talk me, princess?” He cuts in and does assume right, but that’s not what you’re going to say.
“Maybe,” you laugh breathlessly and exhale deeply to get at what you want to say. “But look, I understand you’re needed here, your people are your priority. Winter is dangerous, which is why we won’t ask for a lot. We’re proud and honored to get your loyalty, but anything you can spare will help. We may have more dragons, but they lack experience in war, unlike Vhagar.”
Cregan nods in comprehension and does assure you honestly. “I meant when I said I’ll try. I want to help the Queen, I swear. Let me just see what I can spare, winter is not friendly, winter is cruel, you know that.”
More than most…and more than he knows…
“I know.” You agree softly. “How long will that take?”
He sighs and shrugs. “A couple of days. Not long. Why are you in a hurry?”
You drag your gaze over to pass him a knowing glance because he knows that your presence means much more than anyone knows, and it brings risks.
Still, he smirks faintly at you.
“I will say,” you admit and smile at him. “I am glad to be back in the North. I missed it. It’s so loud in Kings Landing compared to here. And the view from my chambers?!” You exclaim without a care in the world. “Over there it’s busy streets, and here it’s serene hills.”
Cregan chuckles softly. “I told you there’s no place for you so far South anymore. You bring your son here and it is over for you.”
You laugh and nod. “I do love the sun though, and a sea in which I can swim in!” You nudge his arm, and he leans to the side with a smile.
“I will bring the warm sea here, I told you.”
You snort and shake your head. “While I'm here we need to show Jacaerys some of the fun we would have. I want him to see some part of Winterfell before we leave.”
Of course, Cregan doesn’t argue, he gives in but when he meets your gaze from the corner of his eyes he grows sweet and smug. “Not all the fun though?”
You hold his gaze and shake your head. “No. Not all the fun.”
He hums and looks at you with a dangerous longing look that you quickly look away from.
“Ice fishing?” You suggest.
“You have an entire day to waste?” He brings up and clears his throat.
You hum in agreement and stroke your chin, unaware of the fact that you’re being walked into the great hall.
“Owl hunting?” Cregan teases in that stern nonchalance, and you can’t help but burst out laughing as you remember what he means by that.
“You think you’re funny huh?”
“You just laughed.”
You shake your head and grab his arm to laugh more and much harder.
“I can’t believe you fell for it the first time.” He keeps taunting you.
You stand tall and throw out an excuse. “I was young.”
Cregan looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed and you look at him and laugh again, unaware of how lost you were until you hear your brother.
“Sister. Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you.”
You blink repeatedly and catch your breath before you point back at where you came from. “I visited a friend, Arra, remember? I needed to go visit her resting place before we left.”
Your whereabouts don’t really matter anymore, he was worried when he knocked on your door and you didn’t answer, but now what he finds more interesting is who you walk in with. He looks between the both of you full of curiosity and takes note of the way you walked in laughing, as well as the smile you wear, and the faint one that decorates the Lord's lips.
“I hope you are both hungry,” Cregan interjects while you come to a stop in front of the grand table. “We had something prepared for your welcome.”
“That’s nice—”
“We’re starving,” you cut your brother off bluntly and make your way around the table. “Flying for so long isn’t only draining for our dragons, but for us too.”
You approach Jacaerys and he surprises you by pulling a chair out for you. “Oh,” you praise his gesture. “Thank you, Jace.”
When you sit though he doesn’t walk around Cregan's seat like he should have, he makes sure to sit at your other side, leaving you in between both men.
“<What are you doing?>” You demand to know in High Valyrian.
Jacaerys pulls in his chair close to the table and looks at you to whisper back. “<Sitting.>”
You blink and lean your head back with a teasing smile playing on your lips. “<Are you nervous?>”
He squints and rebuttals immediately. “<What? Why should I be?>”
You’re choosing to be too naive and pat his shoulder. “<Your big sister is here do not worry.>”
He swats your hand away, and you steal a glance over at Cregan taking his seat beside you
“How many days do you have to be here before your husband sends you a raven?” Jacaerys fills the silence.
At first, you don’t want to entertain his question, he’s only going to make fun of Aemond, but you give him an assumption to be nice. “Three days. The last thing he wrote was, ‘come home now. Your place is here.’ And that was before we left the Eyrie.”
Jacaerys leans in and continues. “Has he actually written that he misses you?”
You hold his gaze and part your lips to argue in your husband's defense, but those words have not been written on paper so you don't rebuttal Jacaerys, you deflect. “Have you tried to make a move on Baela?”
Jacaerys clenches his jaw and speaks through gritted teeth. “What are you on about?”
You grab the cup in front of you and shrug. “What? She is your betrothed, it's okay to sneak off and you know, have a little fun.”
“Stop it.”
You take a sip of your drink and lean towards him. “When we get home I will play a game and lock you both in a room—oh! No! I’m brilliant!” You exclaim and push yourself back, making him grimace.
“Shut up.”
“Nothing boosts romance more than a fun little adventure, just you and her alone,” you share excitedly without shame that you’re talking to your brother about romance as if he were a lady. The gods didn’t give you sisters, just five brothers, so you have to make the best of what you have. “I will throw you out of the castle to go fetch dragon eggs, or you know, something fun.”
“You’re childish,” he snaps at you under his breath.
You exhale deeply and sit back proudly. “And when your wedding comes I will be paralyzed with joy. Unless she marries one of our Velaryon cousins,” you finish in a whisper to just light a small fire under his ass.
“What?” Jacaerys asks in a shocked whisper, which you ignore to share an amused smile with Cregan.
“Princess,” you hear someone call before you see Lady Maribell approaching with servants carrying supper. “We made your favorite to welcome you and the Prince.”
You watch your plate get put down with a big appetite and then look at Lady Maribell and touch your chest. “Thank you, ma’am, I’ll make sure to savor it well.”
The lady bows her head and leaves the hall, letting you appreciate your supper and the fact that these people took the time to prepare your favorite meal by their own will, or for the wishes of someone else, you don’t know, but it’s a huge difference with the way you get treated in the Red Keep.
“I would like to make a toast,” Cregan’s voice booms throughout the hall as he stands up, pulling the attention of those gathered in the hall. “To the Prince and Princess. Welcome to Winterfell, you honor not only me but the entire North for coming in person in the Queen's regard…”
You smile up at Cregan before you share your joy with Jacaerys.
“Your stay will not be long, but we will do our best to make you feel at home,” Cregan continues before he looks over Jacaerys. “The North may be a drastic change, but it is beautiful. I hope you learn to grow fond of it just as much as your sister has.”
You don’t check Jacaerys reaction, you meet Cregan's gaze and follow him all the way down to his seat with a soft appreciative smile, while his own gaze softens…for a moment, because his gaze then drifts over your shoulder and it loses that gentle touch.
You follow his line of gaze and meet your brother's thankful but slightly narrowed look that he holds with a smile. And as to not make suspect something you raise your cup to him.
He returns the gesture before looking past you again, making you now look at your steaming food and let out a slow deep breath as you try to remind yourself to keep yourself contained. In doing so, albeit you remember the tragic dinner you had at King's Landing not many nights ago and you now start to feel amused by the memory.
You happen to let your gaze wander over to your brother in the midst, and he slowly locks eyes with you. Silence follows for a moment, but then as if mentally tangled with your thoughts you both start to giggle before you chuckle together.
“Man,” he says between laughs. “I wish I would have seen your right hook. I missed it!”
You cover your mouth and stifle the laugh you want to let out and respond. “He was so shocked! I was holding that in for so long!”
You snort and lean towards each other. “It was such a mess from the start, but I applaud your toast. That was smooth.”
“Really? Thank you, I think I landed it too.” He takes your compliment and you both laugh together again before he grabs your shoulder and turns you towards the man at your other side.
“Lord Stark,” he happily drags Cregan into the conversation. “Considering you are friends with my sister, I will tell you a great feat she completed a few nights ago on our last night at Kings Landing.”
You shake your head lightheartedly and lick your lips as you catch your breath.
“To make this story short, one thing led to another and my sister landed a right hook on the usurper,” Jacaerys shares, making the corner of Cregan's lips twitch.
“He slammed our brother's face into the table,” you try to give reason to your actions. “I acted. My rings helped too.”
Jacaerys laughs softly and you meet his gaze and smile wide.
“It seems like an impressive feat indeed,” Cregan says and lets his gaze linger on you. “But I cannot say it surprises me, your sister has never been one to recoil from such things. I’d say she's fond of it.”
“Too much,” Jacaerys remarks. “It is why she would always get in trouble.”
Cregan huffs softly and meets your gaze. “I only wish I could have seen it,” he says directly at you while also letting your brother hear.
You can’t help your deep breath, or stop your face from burning under his impressed gaze. You don't say anything but luckily that conversation leads to a lighthearted dinner where Jacaerys and Cregan start to talk more instead of just passing glances.
Unfortunately, you do the one thing you told yourself you didn’t want to do, and that’s losing yourself in the bliss that comes with interacting with your brother and Cregan, the man you…have a secret past with.
You thought you could do better, you wanted not to get lost at all, but it pulled you down rather quickly and you couldn’t fight it. Especially because there’s something about seeing Cregan interact with your brother without tension or disdain, that makes your heart swoon.
“Jacaerys,” you blurt and turn to him. “Let’s dance.”
His eyebrows pinch together and he shakes his head before he answers. “What? No!”
You ignore him and jump from your seat to grab his arm and pull him with you to the center without as much as a protest. He likes to act all tough and nonchalant in front of others but he’s a big sweetheart when it comes to you and your brothers.
And he proves that further when he doesn’t fail to make you smile when you’re dancing slowly at first to follow the beat of the music that plays in the corner. When the music picks up he becomes faster but disregards the actual beat to start spinning you around the room.
“That’s not how you dance this!” You remark without much meaning behind your words. “You’re going to get me drunk!”
“You can handle it. You love it!” He assumes right and goes faster around the room without that initial worry of being judged or carrying this tough and proper image.
Neither of you actually find a worry in the world, it’s just him and you in that moment, laughing, and unaware of the pair of grey eyes that follow you all around the room. People talk to him, and a commotion surrounds him but Cregan finds a way to keep watching you laugh with your brother as he takes you around the room.
He should feel somewhat upset that your brother is bringing this different kind of joy out of you that he never saw when it was just you and him, but his heart only fills with bliss as he sees you so overjoyed. He knew how much you missed your family when you were living in Winterfell, so how can he be upset and petty that you’re so drunk with bliss by your brother's company?
Only a fool would refuse you this joy.
“Princess!”
You come to a quick halt and give your attention to the one who seeks it; catching Ser Rolf, one of your greatest friends just past the door.
“Ser Rolf!” You greet once you know who has beckoned you, and let your brother go to rush to your friend.
“I heard you were here and I came as fast as I could,” he says and answers your curiosity as to where he’s been before you had the chance to ask. “I almost feared I missed you.”
You shake your head. “No, you got lucky. Come!” You pull him with you to return to your brother. “Ser Rolf, this is my brother, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon.” You immediately introduce them.
“My Prince,” Ser Rolf greets him properly.
“Jace, this is one of my greatest friends from here, Ser Rolf,” you explain. “He went to my engagement tourney and played in my honor.”
Ser Rolf scoffs. “Well, I needed to show off my skills, and not let you Southerners forget how talented we can be.”
You smile at him and you both purposely leave out the other reason why he had gone.
“It's nice to finally meet you,” Ser Rolf directs at your brother. “Your sister often spoke fondly of you and the rest of your family.”
“Did she?” Jacaerys presses and flashes you a smug smirk. “When we return to our brothers I’m proudly going to use that over her head.”
Ser Rolf laughs and nudges you, and you roll your eyes.
“Do you mind if I steal your sister from you, My Prince?” Ser Rolf asks.
Said man shakes his head. “Not at all, go ahead, I need to step out anyway. I will be back.”
You offer him a comprehensive smile and watch him leave the hall before you face your friend. “Are you going to dance with me?”
Ser Rolf scoffs. “No. Unless it’s a command.”
You smile in amusement and shake your head. “Never to you.”
“Good, I may be swift with a sword, but I'm afraid I'm not a gifted dancer. My wife can attest to that,” he breathes out and points his hand away from the crowd of people dancing to walk away together.
“How is your family?” You ask.
Your friend looks at you and smiles sweetly for the first time tonight. “Good. My girl is a year old and a delight. You have a son, I heard.”
You clasp your hands together and nod. “Yes, Aerion. He’s four months old, and his father's pride.” You share now that you can share it with someone since so many details about your son felt wrong being shared with Cregan.
“About…the father,” Ser Rolf picks on that matter as he sits around the first table you see. “I hope my actions in that tournament did not get you in trouble. I saw him later that night at a feast after the tournament was over.”
You sit down first and sigh before you shake your head. “No. Do not worry…was he…” you trail off and glance at the ring Aemond gave you to fiddle with it. “…with anyone?”
You can feel Ser Rolf press his gaze on you, but you avoid it and wait, even if you shouldn’t considering who’s occupying your mind now too.
“No,” Ser Rolf answers hesitantly, making your heart skip a beat. “He was lurking in the corner watching over the other silver-haired Prince.”
You swallow back nervously and meet your friend's gaze to press him since he didn’t sound convincing. “Tell me, Rolf. I can take the truth. I mean look at me, I’m on opposite sides of this war.”
Ser Rolf quickly shakes his head and looks at you with a pitiful look. “I swear it, Princess. He was lurking the entire night. When his brother brought in women and tried to gift him one as an engagement present, he finally left.”
You let out a relieved sigh and nod in comprehension, feeling a lot more assured now than before. “Thank you, my friend.”
“Of course.”
You feel it now…how much you’re starting to miss Aemond. Which is all so conflicting, but you admit it, you miss your husband, especially when it’s just you and him. That’s when he lets his guard down and lets out this person he keeps within; this sweet, affectionate, and amusing person that knows how to love you in the way you want to be loved, and knows the deepest parts of you, while he lets you know his.
He doesn’t hide his love for you in public, he's not overly affectionate but he makes it known that you’re all his and he’s all yours. And perhaps that makes you a little too attached to one another, but you take pride in it and never feel alone.
But…
Yes, there’s a but when you’re in Winterfell, when Cregan is close, and when he comes to mind. You can’t let Cregan go. The love you shared was so consuming, it was full of passion, it was exciting, and it had so much to give that no matter what, you could never get enough of one another.
But that's it isn't it? Was. You need to let go.
“How are you…holding up?” Ser Rolf breaks you from your troubled mind and only makes you confused. “With…you know…” he trails off and points to the side.
You follow his line of gaze and realize that he’s referring to Cregan.
“Rolf,” you warn him, making him laugh.
“He’s finally smiling,” he makes matters worse and makes you smile down at the table while your stupid heart skips a beat.
“He hasn’t been with anyone,” Ser Rolf clarifies and you snap your eyes at him and kick his shin.
“Stop.”
Rolf smirks and rubs his wounded area, while your eyes wander to the man you’re talking about, and you see him leaving the hall.
You almost find it in you to follow him out, but what will that bring? Nothing but temptation. You did good before when it was just him and you, but the stars are out, and the snow blankets the ground, it will feel like one of those nights when you would admire the sky in each other's embrace, and you’ll probably lose it, so you stay put and keep talking to your friend while also watching for your brother.
Eventually, more of Cregan's friends join Ser Rolf and you, but as much as you enjoy their company you can’t rest easy without knowing about your brother. He left a while ago and hasn’t returned. He would’ve told you if he went to bed, but he hasn’t. He said he needed to step out and hasn’t returned.
Maybe he froze out there since all he’s used to is a chill—but more seriously you should go check on him.
You stand up and just as you’re going to excuse yourself you catch your brother walking inside in front of Cregan.
They approach the table and you want to ask about your brother's whereabouts, but Cregan interjects. “I've decided we could take him hunting tomorrow morning and have lunch there, so he can know some of the North’s wilderness.”
You look at your brother and he gives you an assuring nod. And considering Cregan hasn’t given you an answer you have no choice but to accept. “Very well then.”
“I might’ve overshared with your brother just now,” Cregan continues to direct at you as you step back and sit back down.
“No, no,” Jacaerys shakes his head. “He glorified.”
You cross your leg over the other and press them. “What?”
Cregan glances at your brother and then looks back at you. “I might have praised your archery skills on dragonback.”
You smile at Cregan and pass your brother a cocky look. “It’s true. I am an excellent shot on Dragonback, but I cannot take all the credit, Astraea helps me when she flies. I think Lord Stark is just too in awe of the dragon itself.”
Cregan huffs and points his chin at you. “You are being too humble. You deserve the praise, not anyone can hit the target while moving, especially while flying. And you like to stand, which, that alone deserves its own praise.”
You shake your head. “You flatter me too much.”
“But I do suppose the same cannot be said about your traps. She almost caught her own leg once,” he shares a bit too amused. “Arra caught her in time.”
You shake your head. “It was not my fault,” you rebuttal. “You were distracting me. Hunting is done in silence and you distracted me.”
Cregan scoffs. “Are we talking about the same day?” He teases. “You are remembering wrong. I did not do such a thing.”
You touch your chest and slowly get up. “Lord Stark, are you calling me a liar?”
He shakes his head. “Admit it, you could have used help.”
You inhale deeply and nod. “Only if you admit you spoiled our bait for that fishing evening on your name day.”
Cregan parts his lips but he can’t deny you so he presses his lips together and nods slowly, causing you to nod in return, and share a mutual agreement to your questions through shared glances that you don’t break. There in the middle of your friends and brother, you look at each other as if it’s only you and him in that hall, in this world entirely. You exist only for each other.
Until the reminder tears it all down and pulls you back into reality. “Sister why don’t you sing us a song,” Jacaerys exposes you.
“What?” You gasp and ignore all the looks you get.
Jacaerys nods. “It seems fitting. It’s still early, I think it would be nice for you to fill the hall with your song.”
You blink repeatedly and shake your head quickly hoping he’ll get the hint, but he does the opposite as if purposely torturing you. “Wait…you have not sung here?”
You stay quiet and spare a glance at Cregan who is too amused by what’s going on.
“Wow…” Jacaerys trails off to chuckle before he faces the crowd of your friends and Cregan. “That is why she is called the Siren of Driftmark.”
You bite the inside of your cheek and groan.
“I thought you said it was because you were a good swimmer,” Ser Rolf points out.
You shake your head. “No,” you grumble.
Jacaerys moves over to you to grab your shoulder and shake you gently. “She’s really good. She sings all the time,” he praises you. “She just sang the other day when we got to Dragonstone.”
You shake your head and feign a smile. “No, no, my brother is being too nice. He’s exaggerating.” You laugh and then turn to your brother to shoot him a burning glare. “You’re exaggerating,” you sneer at him through gritted teeth.
Jacaerys chuckles and pushes you forward. “Sing us a song. Come on!”
You share a breathless chuckle and turn on your heels to point back at your brother. “I would not want you to cry,” you reveal and glance at the crowd. “When he was a boy he would hide at the back of the crowd so no one would see him cry when I sang.”
Jacaerys doesn’t give you the satisfaction of being flustered, he just smiles, and Cregan steps in.
“Come on, prove your name, princess.”
You pass him a glare and sigh deeply.
“Just one,” Cregan insists with a sweet and intrigued look that really makes it hard to say no to.
“Fine…” you give him brugrudgly. “But…I’ll sing a Sea Shanty. One father liked to sing with us, Jacaerys, so you can sing with me.” You smirk.
Your brother is quick though and shakes his head. “No, no, anyone happy enough can sing a Sea Shanty. Sing a different song.”
“You’ll be surprised not everyone can,” you murmur and stare at your brother with a piercing glare but don’t argue now. You’ll get nowhere, so you begin to step away from the crowd. “Only if you do it,” you protest and turn back to your brother.
“No,” he snaps.
“Do what?” Ser Rolf probes.
You grab your brother's arm and he gives your friend the answer. “Our father would present her to the crowd as if she was a famous singer before she sang.”
You nod eagerly and shake him, but he shakes his head to deny you of such a pleasure.
“I’ll do it,” Ser Rolf volunteers and takes you with him, but leaves you at the side as he runs to the center and steals everyone’s attention.
“Can I get everyone’s attention please! Tonight we have a special guest blessing this hall with her song! May I present the Siren of Driftmark!” He shouts and you don’t shy away or protest now, you run to the center, and bow to the crowd while you spread your arms out like a dragon spreads its wings.
“Hello, Winterfell!” You address the crowd and stand tall without a hint of smugness or your nose in the air to show your royal status, you show off a charm that hasn’t been seen in this hall and gains all the wavering attention to you, as if you were born to lead the masses. “Now, now I know what you may be wondering! Can she really sing, she’s never proved that to us! But,” you laugh softly. “I promise that I at least will not make your ears bleed.”
The crowd laughs and a warm look grows on the serious Lord’s face.
“This song goes to my brother who accompanies me this time around,” you let it be known so you don’t share all the attention. “And of course to your Lord Stark. Thank you for hosting us tonight, my friend.”
You flash him a smile and he nods gently in return, unable to keep his eyes off as you whisper to the band in the corner. He follows your every step with a curiosity that grows only as you clear your throat, take in the crowd that’s gathered in the hall, and draw out a deep breath, because after you part your lips and start to sing softly for all the crowd to hear, all he knows is complete awe as you grow louder and more enchanting with your song.
You become one with yourself and it makes it impossible for anyone to turn away, all the attention is on you as if you were a real-life siren. Yet no matter how many eyes watch you, how surprised and amazed everyone is, and how that prides you, all your attention falls on one man who only watches you with awe, because in this hall it’s just you and him once again.
——
*THE NEXT DAY*
Fishing has never been your strength, you enjoy the quality time when you go with someone, but besides that, you aren’t patient enough to wait for a fish to take the bait.
It’s why as you watch the blue fish in murky waters you make sure to stay out of the water as you slowly pick up your bow, and align your arrow, hoping it won’t hear you and swim off somehow.
Albeit the fish with blue scales moves, making you hold your breath and wait…
Good thing it just moves under the sunbeam that casts in the water. Now though, you do feel guilty for trying to kill it, it’s so beautiful, its scales glimmer a deep blue against the sun like the prettiest gems are stuck to it.
Yet a fish is all it is.
Before you can shoot though, the fish swims away quickly. “Damn, damn,” you hiss and move your aim along with its hasty movements to not let it get out of sight. And just before it can escape into the shallow river, you let the arrow go and luckily shoot the fish right through its eye.
“Haha,” you celebrate to yourself and throw your bow aside to pull your fur cloak off and leave it on the giant rock so it doesn't get wet when you step into the water.
“Oh,” you gasp at the icy touch and rush to grab the fish on the tips of your feet whilst letting out quick ‘oh’s at the cold touch of the water.
However, before you can attempt to turn and run out of the water you catch a branch snap behind you and stiffen.
There's only two people it can be, but you’re still so nervous that the Greens are going to find you that your mind panics and quickly makes you reach for your dagger around your belt.
When you hold the handle you slowly peer back and gasp when you just see Cregan. “Gods,” you breathe out and let the dagger go. “You startled me.”
Cregan finally walks out of the tree line and puts his hands up. “Forgive me, I didn’t want to interrupt your moment. Forgive me.”
You laugh nervously and walk out of the water with relief, and your trophy in hand.
“You’ve been on edge lately,” he points out as he watches you trade your trophy for your cloak.
You sigh. “With this impending war, my husband and his family have been insistent on getting me and Aerion back to King's Landing, that I fear they’ll be in every corner I turn,” you share as you hang your cloak around your shoulders.
Cregan drops his head and nods gently. “Well, no Greens will reach you here. You have my word.”
He looks up and you meet his gaze and offer him a gentle and thankful smile before you grab your arrow from the rock and show off your prize. “I promised my little brother Joffrey we would go fishing, but I think this way is more effective, do you not think?”
Cregan gets closer and tilts his head to the side to shrug. “Can’t say it’ll be called fishing if that’s the way you go.”
You scoff and flick your wrist to brush him off. “Sure it is, we will just use a bow and arrow to catch our fish. I don’t want to wait hours to get one on a hook.”
Cregan huffs and you take that as a challenge. “But I know fishing in the extreme is not for everyone.”
A faint smile breaks on his face and he remarks. “Who do you think you are talking to exactly?”
You shrug and pick up your bow to offer it to him. “Prove your skill, Lord Stark.”
Without further argument, Cregan takes the bow and narrows his gaze. “You know how much I hate it when you’re so formal with me,” he remarks.
You shoot him a simple teasing smile and let the bow go to fall by his side instead. “Alright there’s one right across from us,” you whisper as you hand him an arrow. “Quietly.”
Cregan aligns his arrow and tilts his head down toward you. “Who taught you to hunt?” He picks on your comment.
You lift your gaze, catching the gleam in his eyes, and giggle. His gaze lingers, threatening to drive your heart mad so you look down first and he follows your gaze to follow his prey. When he thinks he has the right angle to catch the fish he lets the arrow go, but the wooden weapon whizzes to the fish's side and only works to startle it away.
“Aha!” You blurt and grab his arm. “I told you. Skill!”
“Oh, hush you,” he brushes you off with a grin before he walks over to collect your arrow. “Oh, by the way, singing?! How come you never told me?”
You sit back on the giant rock and shrug. “One, because I was quite timid to sing to you,” you admit and make him smile at the ground. “And two…after my father died…I just lost my heart to sing. It did not feel right.”
Cregan steps out of the water and his smile fades to show his comprehension. “I understand,” he says quietly and puts your arrow bag in the leather holster.
“I would sing for my grandfather Viserys when I returned to the Red Keep, but I didn’t have a heart to sing until I had Aerion,” you muse as you miss your boy. “He made me find my voice again. And now he falls asleep to my song.”
“What a lucky lad,” Cregan says and steps toward. “You have a beautiful voice. I understand why you got your name.”
A warmth creeps on your cheeks and you smile at the rock beneath you. “Thank you,” you whisper. “And don’t take it as something I hid from you, you are just learning something new from me.”
He hums softly and adds. “It’s just a way to keep me on my toes, I respect that.”
You return his hum and blink to look over at him, catching his watchful gaze, and feeling at that moment a need to entrust him with something that’s been troubling you, something that didn’t satisfy you when you spoke about it to your grandmother.
“Can I ask you something?” You ask hesitantly. “If it makes you uncomfortable, tell me, all right?”
Cregan shifts in his stance and nods without hesitation. “It’s all right, go on,” he assures you to keep going.
You avert your gaze and fiddle with the ring that Aemond gifted you. “It’s just,” you breathe out and make sure Jacaerys isn’t approaching before you continue. “You’re the most loyal man I know. Your oaths are everything to you,” you tell him, making him slowly sit down beside you. “So can you tell me where my loyalties should lie? Should I return to my husband? Especially now that we have a child should I follow him blindly? Growing up, the Septa’s would plague me with how to be a good wife, Alicent makes indirect comments all the time, it's my job as a woman to be a loyal wife, but…” you trail off and look up at the sky and exhale shakily.
“I love my mother, I love my family, and I know she’s the one who belongs on the throne,” you continue to confide in him. “It was stolen from her, nothing will ever make me look at that differently. I will follow her rule, but…Aemond is my husband. He stands loyally on the other side, shouldn’t I stand by his side? Follow him blindly?” You ask from the depths of your torn heart and drop your gaze to look at Cregan with an aching look that wounds his heart.
“He might be your husband, and you may have a responsibility to him now that should come over your mother, but you still have your beliefs,” Cregan says with sincerity since he knows that all you need now is a friend, not a jealous ex-lover. “What you want still matters. And you know what you want to do, I hear it now, I see it with my own eyes. Don't betray yourself just because you don’t want to disappoint one or the other,” he reassures you softly and leans closer to you without actually touching your hand that’s pressed on the rock next to his, he doesn’t let his breath unfurl over your skin, or let his lips brush against your cheek. He just gets his face closer so you can feel his comfort.
“Would you do it?” You can’t help but ask. “Would you go against your wife if she was on opposite sides of a war?”
Cregan sighs deeply and doesn’t debate his answer, he nods, and you add something that pains him to hear because he knows what it really means. “Even if you loved her?”
Cregan swallows thickly but he doesn’t let his eyes fall, he nods stiffly. “If it was the right thing to do, yes. Even if it pained me.”
You drift your gaze away and nod, hoping you can beat the stinging in your throat, but tears fall from your eyes.
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It will be okay.”
You sniffle and meet his gaze to probe speechlessly.
Cregan understands your gesture and nods, making you offer him a gentle smile and lean towards him. “Thank you, Cregan. It really means a lot.”
“Of course,” he says with a caring look that works to assure the doubt and lift the weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders since you found out what happened.
“Thank you,” you add much to his surprise and yours while letting yourself grab his hand. “For loving me.”
Cregan stares at you for a lingering moment with his eyebrows furrowing and unknotting with every emotion that runs through his mind and makes his heart race. “I would do it again, it was my honor,” he speaks softly.
Your bottom lip trembles but you don't cry, you let your head fall on his shoulder for a brief second to express the deep unspoken love that you’ll never actually be able to let go. It’ll forever be scarred in your soul.
And that’s all you could ask for in this world full of horrors. Even if there's no proper goodbye, and there’s so much left untouched, this moment is all you could ever want, it welcomes a comforting silence that brings a smile to your face as you both watch the serene environment.
“We should find your brother,” Cregan breaks the silence after a long moment of being selfish.
You hesitate for a moment but you slide off the rock and collect your stuff before you lead the way back into the forest.
“Do you…” Cregan starts to say while he helps you by carrying the fish you caught. “Still dream of flying to faraway places?”
You keep your eyes out for your brother and purse your lips together as you sigh. “Would you be disappointed if I said I did? Only sometimes though.”
Cregan chuckles. “No, of course not. I’m glad you still do. Where to?”
You suck in air and twirl around to face him as you walk back. “Maybe,” you breathe out and happily share what he wants to know. “Yi Ti. I was given this beautiful gem necklace from there and I’ve been completely enamored by the place ever since. It’s said princes live in solid gold houses.” You nod eagerly, making him scoff.
“My most favorite gowns are made of silks from Yi Ti,” you muse and turn back around on your heels. “Some I have yet to wear because I have been saving them. Hopefully, I get to wear one soon! Don’t worry though my feet are still on the ground,” you make sure to assure Cregan. “I have not forgotten what I learned here.”
You hear him hum before he mutters. “I’m quite curious about these expensive gowns.”
Your breath catches in surprise and you peer over to shoot him a pointed look. He responds by flashing you a charming smile that makes you roll your eyes and hold back your smile.
Thankfully in that next moment, you spot your brother in the distance and force all your focus on him.
Jacaerys doesn’t seem to spot you right away though, so after a quick and brilliant idea hits you you leave Cregan behind to sneak around Jacaerys. Once you get close and he’s made some distance from the tree you’re hiding behind, you slip out and avoid stepping on all the branches and dry leaves. When you’re close enough you bite back your smile and raise your hands to jump on his back, but much to your misfortune he’s too perceptive and ruins your plan. “I saw your foot behind the tree.”
You blow out air and drop your arms with a pout. Jacaerys turns and spots Cregan walking out of the shadows first before he faces you and shows off the rabbits he caught. “What did you catch?”
You frown deeper and point at the single fish, making him chuckle. “That’s all?! I thought you were some great hunter!”
You roll your eyes and sputter out an excuse. “Well, I did see some rabbits but I didn’t want to kill them, they were adorable.”
And you can’t say Cregan distracted you either, for the most part, you were just walking and taking in the sights you left behind last year.
“Uh-huh.” Jacaerys nods with a smug smile on his face. “Sure,” he quips. “You are such a girl.”
You roll your eyes and wave him off before you get ahead of the group and lead the way to a distant clearing where you’ll have lunch. “A few months back,” you share to fill the silence and avoid your previous topic. “I was at the market street and on our way back I ran into this Red priestess.”
“A witch,” Jacaerys corrects you, causing you to turn around and counter.
“No, a red priestess. Calling them witches is kind of mean.”
Jacaerys scoffs and turns to Cregan for support. “I say witches, what do you call them here, Lord Stark?”
Said man grabs his blade hooked on his belt and meets your brother's gaze with a hidden smugness behind his eyes. “Witches, but sometimes we call them pretenders, depending on the price.”
Jacaerys chuckles and you know they’re obviously just working against you so you choose to ignore the negativity and go on. “Anyway!” You exclaim and twirl back around. “She told me my future. She said…” you leave them with anticipation for a few seconds before you share what you were told. “I would have seven kids.”
“Gods,” Jacaerys murmurs.
“Mhmm.”
“Now,” Jacaerys cuts in and rushes over to fall by your side, leading Cregan to fall on your other side—“Who will give you all these children if your husband dies in this war?”
Without as much as thinking you turn to your brother and nudge his chest to make him think it’s something you planned when really you’re just teasing him. Kind of. “You. We could get married.”
Your brother's face falls and he immediately shakes his head and turns you down bluntly. “No. I would not marry you.”
“Oh right, there’s Baela,” you point out and grab your chin as you think deeply. “Well…I could take her. She’s quite terrifying, but yes,” you nod and look back at your brother. “I can take her in both a dragon fight and hand-to-hand combat…I think.”
Jacaerys' nose scrunches and he shakes his head again. “No, I would not marry you! You are…you.”
You look around confused and pick on that considering your house is known to marry within the family to keep the bloodlines pure. Aegon and Helaena are married.
“So?”
Jacaerys parts his lips but he can’t think of a strong argument that will beat the truth. Yet you do take a good look at Jacaerys and find an excuse. “You are right,” you mutter. “We could not, I do favor taller men, thus maybe...” you trail off to think, leaving Jacaerys offended by your bold comment.
“A Prince from Yi Ti with a house made of gold,” Cregan finishes for you, making you snap your eyes at him and smile slowly in amusement.
“Funny,” you hold back your laugh. “Very funny.”
He rolls his head down and hides his smile.
Gods laughing with him is so much better in person. He can be very funny in a serious way that only makes what he says or does that much funnier.
“She also let me see in the fire,” you continue to share more excitedly now. “And what I saw was a girl—”
“Wait, wait,” Jacaerys cuts you off and wipes away his smile. “Now when this priestess of yours talked to you, was she on the other side of this fire?”
You look away and bite your cheek before you lie by shaking your head as a response.
Albeit Cregan knows you well and points you out. “Liar.”
“Yes, fine!” You exclaim and gently nudge him away. “She was at the other side, but it was not her that I saw, it was a girl with silver hair,” you catch your brother's serious attention now. “She…stood on top of a mountain covered in snow, ashes, and death.”
Cregan’s own amusement falls and your brother doesn’t dare to tease you now, so you go on.
“All brought by…<A long winter,>,” you finish in High Valyrian to mirror the way the Red Priestess told you before you repeat in the common tongue. “A long winter.”
Both men look at you but one doesn’t look at you with disbelief, nor fear, he’s serious and deep in thought, while your brother lets out a dry laugh and shakes his head to try and deny what you shared.
“I believe it,” you defend yourself and what you saw in that fire because it was clear as day as if you were seeing a memory that hasn’t happened.
“I also believe what this old man said about Ice dragons living past the wall,” you tell your brother, and Cregan interjects right away.
“Old man Thomas is known for tall tales. There are things that are true, but what he says is not.”
You shrug. “He’s well-traveled, why wouldn’t it be true?” You rebuttal and lean towards him.
“Because,” Cregan argues and leans towards you. “He likes attention. And he’s drunk all the time.”
“A drunk man is less likely to lie, you know that because you don’t lie when you’re drunk.”
His lips twitch and before he can respond with something in his defense his eyes turn to your brother at your other side. You discreetly follow his line of gaze and catch your brother's attention so you play it off quickly.
“All I’m saying is I believe what I saw, it may not happen in our lifetime, but it’s in our future,”
A short silence follows that only works to make you grow nervous over what your brother might’ve just thought. But he thankfully brushes you off.
“Maybe but you probably got ripped off by a fake witch.”
Once again you choose to ignore this negativity spouted by your brother and instead drift your attention to lunch, and since Cregan was more in charge of guiding Jacaerys, he didn’t catch anything. All you have is the single fish you caught and the rabbits Jacaerys caught, but neither one of you wants to skin them, so you eat a small lunch and share the fish over a quite fun moment where you, unfortunately, don't receive an answer from Cregan, regarding what he’s willing to offer your mother.
You hoped he’d finally say it during supper, but supper came and passed, and nothing. That lack of response followed until the next two days too, leaving your brother quite impatient now.
“What have you told him?” Jacaerys greets you ever so warmly.
“What have I told who?” You pretend to act clueless while you pick a square cake from the tray and study it before you plop it into your mouth.
“Lord Stark,” he snaps.
You knew he was getting to that since you spotted him stomping over to you and Astraea, but you had hoped he wouldn’t get to it yet.
“It's been days and you said you would talk to him! We don’t have days to waste,” he remarks and spats out your name before going on to give you a mean reminder. “We need to leave and we have nothing.”
You don’t intend to sit up or fix your gaze on your brother, you keep yourself against your dragon's large arm and respond calmly. “He promised he would give us an answer—”
“When?” Jacaerys cuts you off and crouches down to take the tray of cake from you. “When?”
You drag your eyes up and nonchalantly answer. “He cannot pull the army out of his ass, Jacaerys. We have to wait, if he promised he would do something he is going to do it.”
Your brother rolls his eyes and turns away to let out a frustrated breath. “There's a difference between saying a promise and actually committing to it. I do not know how close you are or if you have actually talked to him, but you need to figure something out, that is why you are here.” He mutters.
You watch him knowing that he has a right to be annoyed, Lady Arryn gave you her answer quite quickly, and you’ve been in Winterfell for days but still haven’t received a word on what Cregan will give to support his Queen, but you also trust Cregan, you know he’s going to do what he says, you just need to wait.
“I’ll talk to him again,” you assure him. “If he doesn’t give anything then we’ll return home with his simple loyalty.”
Jacaerys rests his hand on his hip and lets out a deep breath. “All right, that sounds good.”
You sigh and nod, letting a silence linger for a moment before you lean forward. “Can I get those back?”
“What?” He breathes out and turns all dramatically with his cloak twirling with him.
“My cake pieces,” you point at the tray in his hand with your eyes.
Jacaerys passes you a judgmental look before he leans over and lets you take the tray he took.
“Aemond found me,” you let him know of the raven that came to you this morning. “He said ‘come home at once’. Shorter than the last one but still persistent.” You giggle.
Jacaerys walks over to sit next to you against a sleeping Astraea. “Will you?” He asks with genuine curiosity.
You take a cake piece and shake your head. “No…our mother belongs on that throne and I am going to stand by that,” you say confidently now that you know where you want to stand. “He can try to take me by force if he wants, but I am going to fight for her.”
Jacaerys looks over at you with a faint smile and nods in comprehension. “I’m glad to hear it.”
You mirror his smile and offer him a piece of cake. As he takes one a memory creeps in and your smile widens before you can tell it to him. “Do you remember a few years ago, when Lucerys disowned me because he thought I ate the last piece of lemon cake?”
Midchew Jacaerys loses himself in thought before he snorts, spitting out pieces of cake, and causing you to scrunch your nose in disgust.
“Ew,” you grumble and he interjects abruptly.
“Yes! I remember he’s like you cannot be my sister anymore because you are selfish and you ate it all!” He mocks your younger brother.
You giggle and nod, but before you can add to that shared memory Astraea suddenly raises her head, bringing Jacaerys and you to a pause to look over; noticing none other than Cregan approaching.
When he’s near he bows his head and greets the both of you on the ground. “Good day, my princess, my prince.”
You smile at him and greet him for both Jacaerys and you. “Good day. It is nice to see your face today, we ate lunch and breakfast alone.”
Cregan bows his head again. “I am terribly sorry, I have been busy all day, I only barely got out.”
You remember his long days, on some terribly long ones, he wouldn't be let out until it was time to go to bed. You would usually meet him in his chambers on those days and just lay down enjoying each other's company. Today all you can do is look at each other as nothing but old friends.
“I hope your day has not been dull,” Cregan worries.
You shake your head. “No, we were just reminiscing about a day of our childhood when,” you snicker and go on. “Our little brother Lucerys disowned me because he thought I ate the last piece of lemon cake.”
Jacaerys nods and continues the story for you. “We both knew there was more so she pretended to leave. Our mother came in a few moments later with more and Lucerys completely freaked,” Jacaerys laughs and stands up as if that would change the way he was telling it. “He started bawling and ran out to look for our sister.”
“When he found me,” you finish the story. “He’s like I am so sorry, I never meant what I said. Come back, do not leave us. You can have as much cake as you want!” You finish with a laugh and Jacaerys joins you.
“That sounds like quite a memory,” Cregan says and reaches out to pat your dragon's snout since she leans towards him with dilated eyes. “Did your mother say anything?”
You and Jacaerys stare at one another in search of the answer, but you can’t recall.
“Not that I remember,” you mention and look back at Cregan. “But it was quite a memory. Lucerys is a sweetheart.”
Cregan hums and Astraea groans softly in response to his touch.
“Oh, maybe you needed something, my Lord?” Jacaerys only asks now.
“Well,” Cregan sighs. “I only wanted to invite the both of you to Castle Black on the morrow so you could see the wall, My Prince. Just before you leave, that is.”
You and your brother share a hopeful look and even if Jacaerys was quite impatient to leave, now he accepts Cregan's invitation. “I have always wanted to see the wall. It would be a pleasure.”
“Good, we will leave at first light then.” Cregan lets you both know and leaves you hoping for a good response that will hopefully make your mother proud.
.
.
.
.
A/N- Who’s the 2nd heart of fire? A new character we’re getting soon, or someone else
Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me
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devourable · 1 year
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✎ the prodigy
sfw | tags : male!yandere student x gn! reader (only prn used for reader is ‘you’), obsessive behavior and thoughts, bullying, slight classism, gaslighting? i think
surprise! i came up w the idea of this guy like,,, two days ago and had to get him out my system 😭 i feel like all my yandere ocs are too nice (save for althea) so heres one thats an asshole. enjoy! reblog to support me :]
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sterling cygnus has it all.
good looks, a wealthy family, and a place in one of the most prestigious private colleges that one could go to. aptly dubbed the ‘prince of ice’ by his classmates thanks to his cold demeanor and disdain for interpersonal connections, the young man had one goal in his mind since he started attending school.
to be the best!
sterling dedicated himself to his studies. nothing was more important to him than ensuring he got the top scores on every exam he took, sealing his place as number one in the academic field by any means necessary. no one dared to breach that. and anyone who even tried received his ire.
no one was going to stand up to him — why would they? they’d hate to end up like the poor guy who’s dorm was raided after he surpassed him. or the girl who did the same, resulting in her being forced to drop out after her father’s suspiciously sudden arrest left her unable to pay tuition fees. but of course, there was no real proof that sterling had caused both incidents. it was just a coincidence! right?
well… the day you came onto his radar was a day that left the entire student body tense.
everyone had gathered around the bulletin board where the latest exam results were posted. there were gasps of shock, murmurs, and even a small ripple of laughs floating through the otherwise quiet crowd. it was unusual. and when sterling had pushed his way to the front to gaze upon the list of student names with their scores beside them… he understood. and in an instant, he was furious.
he was in second place. and above his name, with a pretty 100% score next to it, was yours.
who the fuck did you think you were? coming to his school, earning the grade that he worked so hard to receive, and daring to take his place as number one?
sterling knew in an instant that you had to be a new student. he had all of the names of those who ranked just under him memorized, and yours wasn’t one of them. were you a transfer? a latecomer? he had no clue what the circumstances behind your sudden arrival was, and honestly? he didn’t care. you had taken his place, after he had worked so hard to get there. after he had been there for so long. you had taken his place. and he knew for a fact you didn’t deserve it.
but just as he resolved to figure you out so he could plan his revenge?
there you were. passing through the the slowly dispersing crowd to look at the leaderboard, your eyes locking with the name — your name — at the very top of it.
when sterling first saw you, he couldn’t even begin to understand the feeling that had suddenly flooded his senses. it was so strange… and why did the world suddenly feel a lot slower? why could he only notice you and him in the hallway? why did his heart skip in his chest when you glanced at him and your eyes locked?
if you had tried to say something to him, sterling didn’t even notice. he had hurried off before you could even speak.
he was sure he despised you after that point. he had to have, he told himself. the way his mind always drifted back to you when he was trying to study, angrily clicking his pen and gritting his teeth as he thought about your stupid hair and your dumb, adorable eyes, the way your uniform looked better on you than anyone else in the college — he didn’t even realize he was thinking about you so much until he snapped out of them and noticed how much time had passed.
he hated you. he had to. you had taken what was rightfully his, probably with dumb luck or cheating, and now you were invading his thoughts in such a way? was there nothing you wouldn’t take from him?
he was colder to you than anyone else. he had to be — you needed to learn your place around him. he’d ignore you in the halls and during class, and when you’d innocently ask him for his input on something, you’d be met with a sneer and a condescending retort.
“i don’t fraternize with people like you. don’t bother me.”
despite this, he’d always wander around near wherever you went. going to the library at the same time as you so he could snatch whatever book you had planned to check out away from you and take it for himself, making sure to go to the cafeteria just before you arrived so he could take what he knew was your favorite snacks, and he’d always be at the dorms before you — trying so hard to not stare at you when you passed by in your pajamas, fresh out of the showers.
your stupid body wash smelled so good… he couldn’t help himself when he snuck back to the locker room after hours to snag it for himself.
weeks after your arrival and sudden climb to the top, everyone was confused to see you were still attending the school. sterling would’ve taken out anyone else by then, what was so different about you?
but no one would ask, obviously. nor would anyone come to your aid when all of your pencils and pens were all mysteriously snapped in half one day. or when you’d find your notes torn into pieces and haphazardly stuffed back into your bag. and when you tried to alert staff about your dorm room’s door being ajar for some reason, they brushed you off even though you knew for a fact someone had gone through your things (‘nothing important’s gone? no bother pursuing the matter, then’).
with how much disdain and contempt he seemed to hold for you, it was so strange that sterling didn’t like the idea of no longer catching daily glimpses of you. or having access to your things.
so even though sterling went out of his way to make your school life nearly unbearable as revenge for coming along and doing just that to him first, he didn’t make the move to actually have you removed from the school and opted to torment you instead.
you deserved it, he told himself. far more than anyone who came before you.
he’d show you what happens when you bother sterling cygnus.
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amirasainz · 5 months
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The avengers of Formula 1
request: Would love to see baby sainz suddenly approached by a male who is not in F1 and suddenly everyone shows up like the avengers to scare him away ❤️❤️❤️
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It was a sunny day at the Marina Bay street circuit. It was the first time Amira had ever visited Singapore. One could clearly see how delighted Carlos was to have his baby sister by his side.
As they entered the paddock, the Sainz siblings were surrounded by Carlos’s fellow colleagues. Of course, it was just a coincidence that Lewis, Lando, and Oscar were at the entrance as well. It’s not like they had been waiting there for the past 20 minutes.
As soon as Carlos saw them, he knew what he had to do. “Hermanita, look! There’s a bit of shade. Why don’t you sit down and wait for me for a second? I will come back with an umbrella. We wouldn’t want you to get a sunburn, right?”
“Okay, Chilli,” she answered with a dimpled smile. Carlos swore his heart melted. He leaned down and gave her head a quick kiss. When he turned around, the other drivers were already approaching. After a quick look back at his hermanita, Carlos began to drag those demons away from his darling sister.
“Hey! You can’t just drag me away like a potato sack, you muppet!” Lando complained. Lewis and Oscar followed them like little children.
“Muppet? MUPPET?! You do not get to call me a muppet when you’ve been lurking at the entrance like a… a… como un bicho raro!”
When Lewis and Oscar started to chuckle, Carlos immediately turned to them. “And YOU! How dare you wait for my sister. I expected it from Lando,” “Hey!” “But you two? Unbelievable!”
During their scolding, the quartet was approached by other drivers. Charles was gloating with happiness. For once, he was not on the receiving end of Carlos’s yelling.
After some time, it was George who interrupted Carlos’s yelling. “Oh, what the hell?! Who is THIS idiot?” All the drivers turned to look at what George was pointing at.
There she was. Amira Sainz was talking to a man. A stranger! From far away, they could see the guy trying to flirt with her. But baby girl was that dense and thought he was just a nice guy trying to strike up a conversation.
When he sat down next to her, the other drivers exchanged amused glances. Carlos clenched his fists, ready to intervene if necessary. Little did he know that this chance encounter would change everything.
When he sat down next to her, the drivers saw red. How dare he sit down next to her, talk to her, or even breathe the same air as her?!
Quicker than a Mercedes F1 car, all the drivers sprinted to her side. The air filled with screams of “Oi, Idiote!” and “Hijo de puta!” and “Back the fuck off, dude!”—followed by Oscar’s emphatic “Stranger Danger!”
Imagine Baby Sainz’s surprise. One second she was chatting with the friendly stranger who called her the most beautiful girl in the world, and the next, she was engulfed by her brother and her friends. From the outside, it looked like a massive puppy pile.
While the drivers were busy scolding the man (and ensuring he’d be banned from the track), Carlos raced to Amira’s side. He instantly dropped to his knees and cradled her face in his hands.
“Pobrecito mío. ¿Este idiota te estaba molestando? ¿Estaba siendo grosero? ¡Oh, Santa María, estás tan pálida!” During Carlos’s rapid-fire rant, she just stared at him with wide eyes. When she made a confused noise, he immediately stood up, took his sister’s hand, and led her toward the parking lot.
“Oh, my poor hermanita. I’m so sorry. Let’s go shopping and grab something to eat. That must have been really scary!”
With that, the Sainz siblings left the track and headed to the nearest high-fashion shop.
As for the man? Well, let’s just say he vanished from the racing scene—never to be seen on any track again. 😇
Let me know what you thought about this littles piece. My request are OPEN. I will try to update as soon as possible💕
-XoXo
@barcelonaloverf1life @omgsuperstarg @formula1mount @xoscar03 @stinkyjax @khaylin27 @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @tinyhrry
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percervall · 1 month
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fight so dirty but your love's so sweet
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pairing: Fernando Alonso x fem!reader warnings: mafia!Nando, sexual harassment, smut, knife play, p in v, unprotected sex words: 1802
In which Fernando knows you like the back of his hand
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You’re not even sure exactly why it is your husband and you need to show your faces at this event. Probably to keep up appearances to those in politics that your husband is an upstanding citizen and not in fact their worst nightmare running the Madrid underworld. As if the farce of this charity ball absolves him of any illegal activities. You can’t help but scoff into your glass of wine. You’re married to him and only know a fraction of what your husband gets up to, half of which would have the people in this room clutching their pearls. 
Finishing your wine, you look for a waiter so you can get a refill. Unfortunately for you, instead of another glass of wine, you find the displeasure of the company of Mr. Sergio Pérez, an undersecretary to the Minister of Finance. Hiding your disdain behind a saccharine smile, you listen to his poor attempt at flirting.
“So what do you say? Wanna ditch this boring event and skip to where you and I get to know each other.. Biblically?” 
“No thank you, my husband doesn’t like sharing what’s his,” you reply, hoping he gets the implied not interested. 
“Who says he needs to know?” 
God, this guy really doesn’t know when to stop, you think, your jaw hurting from where you’re clenching it.
“Trust me, Mr Alonso would know.” 
“I don’t see that chihuahua of a guard dog anywhere,” he says with all the bravado of a man two whiskeys too deep to know what’s good for him. You fight the urge to smile when you see his eyes widen and feel the press of lips against your temple and the fabric of his suit against your bare back.
“Oh, you wish he were just a chihuahua when he’s done with you,” you respond with a wicked smile, resting a hand on top of the one Fernando has now wrapped around your waist. Without a moment’s hesitation, two men dressed in black appear and grab the undersecretary by the arm. Something tells you it’s hard enough to at the very least bruise by the way the man’s face contorts as they walk him out. Fernando spins you in his arms so you’re facing him, eyes scanning yours to make sure the only harm done was having to listen to the absolute garbage coming out of Mr. Pérez’ mouth. He pushes a strap of your dress back up your shoulder before taking your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 
“He didn’t touch me, Nando,” you say quietly, watching your husband intently. The Spaniard’s eyes flash at the mention of him. 
“Let’s go home, princessa,” he replies and you wordlessly nod, letting him pull you outside. 
Fernando keeps a hand on your thigh through the entire drive home, the heat of his skin making your breath hitch. Judging by the way the corner of his lips twitches up in a smile, he’s well aware of the effect he has on you. Once you get home, he helps you out of the car –ever the gentleman, even though you know this will be the last courteous act for the night. Thanking the young guard at the door, you step inside and place your clutch bag on the console table before moving into the living room. Fernando is hot on your heels and something tells you he instructed the guards to make sure no one disturbs you for the rest of the night. You turn to face him, letting your eyes roam freely. Fernando always looks good, but something about him in a well-fitting suit without a tie just hits different, especially with that back tattoo hidden underneath it all; he plays the part of upper class and respectable brilliantly yet the samurai on his back serves as a reminder that he will do whatever’s necessary to protect his honour.
As your eyes move up to his face, you see the way his eyes have darkened. Biting your lip to stop yourself from smiling, you move back as Fernando moves to close the distance between you. Back hitting the wall, you press your palms against it as you arch up to look at him.  
“I thought you were going to stop killing politicians,” you chide, squeezing your thighs shut at the wicked glint in his eyes. He brushes a knuckle over your cheekbone, making your eyes flutter closed.
“I think I’m doing María a favour by getting rid of him, let alone his wife. The asshole should know better than to ignore a woman’s no,” he says as he slides a hand up the slit of your dress. You can feel his fingers brush against the lace garter and you can’t help but gasp.
“Oh princessa, so naughty hm? Chastising me for getting rid of a problem when we both know you would’ve had him on the floor begging for mercy just as much,” Fernando murmurs and slowly pulls the dainty little dagger free from its holster on the inside of your thigh. Having his fingers so close to where you need him most leaves you breathless.
“A girl’s gotta be able to defend herself,” you offer as an explanation.
“Oh, I agree darling but I also know just how much you love it when I do this,” Fernando says and runs the blade across your collarbone before sliding it under the strap of your dress. The fabric easily yields to the blade and Fernando’s smile widens when you whimper as he slides it under the other strap to cut you out of your dress. The burgundy fabric rustles as it falls to the floor where it pools around your heels, leaving you in nothing but a thong. It wasn’t even one of the sexy pairs, needing to opt for the black seamless ones to have no lines visible underneath your dress. Which is also why you’re not wearing a bra. 
“Very naughty I see,” Fernando murmurs. You gasp when you feel the cool steel of the blade against your hip where it slides under the thin material. The edge of the blade digs into your skin a little as it cuts through the fabric and you can’t help but whimper at the feeling. What’s left of it slides down your legs to join the ruined fabric already on the floor. Fernando moves the dagger again, the tip now tilting your face up. Eyes struggling to remain open, you’re taken aback by just how open Fernando’s affection for you is on his face. Here’s the thing about your marriage with him: he might be the most ruthless, the most cunning man you know, but he would never hurt you –not even when you literally hand him a weapon as delicate as your heart. 
“Love seeing you like this,” Fernando all but whispers, “so beautiful when you let me do this to you.” He presses a kiss against your lips and you all but melt into him.
“Mi vida, mi alma, mi sol, all I do is for you,” Fernando whispers in the space between your faces.
“I love you,” you say on an exhale as his fingers dance over your skin. Fernando hums in response, cradling your face in his hands as he dips down to kiss you once more. Still holding onto you, he walks the two of you backwards while making sure you don’t trip and fall over the discarded clothing. Breaking the kiss, he spins you around. His hand glides up your back to your neck before he tightens his hold on you, and pushes you forward so you’re leaning over the back of the couch. You can hear the clink of metal as he unbuckles his belt, the sound of leather getting pulled free from fabric sending a jolt to your already throbbing clit. Fingers digging into the cushions, you slide your feet further apart as you try to prepare yourself for what’s to come. Fernando chuckles darkly. “So needy, princessa. Want to be filled, hm?” 
“Y-yes, please..” you sigh, arching your back. It’s no longer a want, it’s a need. Your body aches to have him inside of you. 
“So wet for me, my devious girl. Look at you,” he coos as he so very slowly sinks himself into you. The stretch has you panting, fingers scrambling to keep yourself upright. Fernando groans as you clench around him. He presses two fingers against your clit, rubbing gently back and forth.
“Think you can cum like this?” he asks and all you can do is whine an uh-hu in response. Fernando begins to rub in circles, knowing just how you like it, and that in combination with the weight of him inside of you is enough to hurtle you towards your climax. It washes over you, legs trembling while you try to remain standing. Fernando groans and curses as you clench around him in waves, bucking his hips into you. Pushing back against him, you wordlessly tell him that you need him to move. Fernando lets go of your neck, dropping the dagger onto the tile floor, and moves both hands to your hips. His fingers dig into your skin as he fucks into you, slow at first but quickly picking up the pace as he uses your for his own pleasure. You’re incapable of forming any coherent thoughts as he hits that spot inside of you, your entire body wired to chase the high that’s threatening to consume you whole. Resting your forehead on your arm, you move your right hand down to messily circle your clit.
“Need you to cum for me, princessa,” Fernando pants, his restraint wearing precariously thin with each thrust. You whimper and whine in response, before crying out as your second orgasm hits you like a tidal wave. Fernando curses and tightens his grip on you as he fucks you through it, prolonging your orgasm. For a brief moment you wonder just how much more you can take before it does indeed pull you under. Fernando sinks into you once more, moaning as he spills deep inside of you. The two of you remain like that for a moment to allow you both time to come down from that high. Fernando slowly pulls out and you can feel his cum begin to drip down your inner thigh. Reaching a hand down, you swipe it away and bring your fingers up to your lips to lick them clean. Fernando curses behind you and before you know what’s happening, he picks you up as if you weigh nothing. Wrapping an arm around his neck, you rest your cheek against his shoulder. You know he will take care of you, always, and that thought fills you with more love than you have words to express. 
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This fic wouldn't exist without @feralnando and @ruledbyproblematique, biggest thank you to you both 🥰
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