#(and being carried like a princess by big strong men)

[fairsweetlonging]

even though shen yuan disdains wife plots, i feel it's because they're often so contrived and the wives are always damsels in distress, and when the system puts him in one it's against his will and he has no control over it, BUT, i think if he makes the choice to put himself in one on purpose and with a plan, he would excel at it, he would play into it so hard to get what he wants, he'd see it as his opportunity to cheat the system (pun intended!) and farm easy points

[tojisbbg]

𝙢𝙖𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙚?

❝fuck me like you mad at me, baby; i need a freak to drive me crazy!❞  

♡ sae itoshi ♡

wc: 14.5k

a/n: i love my nonchalant princess sm. the storyline is a bit long 'cause i got carried away lmao. but trust the process guys, it's good i promise ;)

reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated <3

content: sae itoshi x fem!reader, reader plays for blue lock (yes, what a queen!), eventual smut, sae is filthy lol, all acts are consensual, disclaimer: i have no knowledge on soccer or how the games work in general lmfao, porn with plot, not edited.

---

jealousy has never been a pretty look, nor has the toxic radiation of arrogance.

it's funny how men can be threatened to such miniscule things, afraid that it'll bruise their strikingly huge egos; bigger than their dicks!

yes, the world is unfair, and sadly women will never be seen as equals. unfortunately, we live in a time where what's in our pants determines our self-worth like some kind of auctioned price tag.

but, you weren't about to label yourself with a price tag stamped on you by a man.

and what better way to do that than being annoyingly damn good at something that was created for men.

the way soccer has deeply nestled itself in your veins was something that most definitely wasn't on your bingo card. you grew up in a small town where people were familiar with each other, being able to tell apart who was a neighbor and who was a stranger.

your dream was to graduate high school with honors and attend a prestigious university in a foreign country; following your passion of becoming an aspiring cardiologist.

but, of course, the criteria list was as big as your ambition. you were required to do a bunch of stuff, such as volunteering for community service, internships, maintaining your grades, and most importantly.... play a sport?!

if there's one thing you absolutely hated in the world, it would have to be playing sports. you weren't athletic at all and you felt limited because where you lived barely had any inclusivity for female players.

but, the university admissions office wanted an all-rounded student, so, you had no choice.

you begged your school's boys soccer coach to let you play. the old man was a tough cookie, hard to crack, but with enough pestering; he gave in. more so, he thought you'd be the one to give up and not show up on the second practice session.

but, to his surprise, you held your ground. in no time, your body went through a series of changes. you became more toned and lean, your strength and stamina gradually increased as well.

the guys on the team ridiculed you multiple times when you struggled to understand the rules or play strategy; but, they'd soon swallow their own words after noticing how in every game it always seemed like you had woken up as someone new.

your adaptability, stamina, improvisation and intuition resulted in you to easily climb up the ranks; replacing the team's captain who served for 2 years.

naturally, your school gained popularity for having such a strong soccer team, and you became the infamous ace card; even though you were the only female player on the team.

of course, you didn't really care about all that. after all, you were doing this in order to prepare a neat and tidy application to ship yourself somewhere else to pursue your dreams. so, you'd mindlessly played against other schools and ultimately; lead your team to victory.

win after win after win.

what you didn't expect was that a lady with short auburn hair has been eyeing from the very beginning; spectating like a creep.

your senior year of high school came by and you were a few months away from graduating. your applications have been submitted and you felt like someone freed you from the shackles of stress. you spent your eighteenth birthday with friends and family, of course, being teased by your relatives of how your body was becoming "more like a man" or whatever the hell that means.

spring had just begun and your acceptance letter has come in the mail. you eagerly opened it, practically screaming in happiness as you almost tripped down the flight of stairs to announce to your parents-

"i'm going to yale!"

you had finished your last soccer practice for the season. while you were about to head in the direction of your house, you saw a lady with short auburn hair approach you.

you tried to ignore her, maybe she was walking towards someone behind you? but, you couldn't hear anyone behind you. she politely smiled at you, almost as if she could read your mind.

"uh, can i help you?" you asked, confused.

"you're y/n, right?" she confirmed, making you cock an eyebrow.

"yes, that would be me." you answered, a bit taken back from her sudden acknowledgment of your existence.

"i've been watching you for quite some time now, and i must say, you are a fine piece of talent for the world of soccer!" she enthusiastically praised, making you look at her with a dumbfounded expression.

"uhm, thank you?....creepy." you awkwardly expressed your gratitude, while mumbling the last part. but, it seems that she very loud and clearly heard you, chuckling at your words.

"listen, i've been watching the most talented soccer players in different parts of japan to recruit. my dream is to create the best soccer team in japan that will win the world cup. so, i created the blue lock project." she passionately explained.

"nice." you blandly responded, making her stare at you like you have two heads.

"are you not getting it? i'm recruiting you to the blue lock project, y/n." she frowned, but her words were still registering in your head.

blue lock project?

world cup?

this must be some joke. so, you laughed at her face like it was one.

"i tried to put past the whole creepy stalking you did on me but this is the most absurd thing you've said so far in our short interaction. you're asking me, a woman, to play in your all-men soccer team that you're planning to perfect for the world cup? listen, lady, i think you need to go home and take a nice nap to clear your head." you scoffed, readjusting your duffel bag as you prepared to walk off, only to be halted as she grabbed your wrist.

"wait! please, just think about it! i know... i know what you're thinking and i get it. us women, we don't get these kinds of opportunities and when we do, there's always some level of competition and gender-bias. but, as a woman myself, whose ambition is to craft the perfect japanese soccer team, i want a woman to play in it. i want a woman to win the world cup! please, i'm requesting you, reconsider." she begged, making your mouth slightly drop.

you sigh heavily, looking at her with stern eyes.

"i'm sorry, but, you'll have to achieve that dream with someone else. i'm not cut out for this life, soccer isn't even my dream. besides, i'm going to america in a few months to attend university there and become a doctor in the future. i hope you can find another woman to play in your team. good luck." you offered a small apologetic smile, making her eyes glimmer with disappointment as she watched you walk away.

a few weeks had passed and you'd just graduated. your flight to america was quickly approaching, so you were busy packing. you suddenly heard a knock at your bedroom door, which cracked open to reveal your mom.

"sweetheart, someone by the name of anri teieri is looking for you." you mom informed you, making you furrow your eyebrows.

"who now? i've never heard of that name in my life." you responded, making her shrug and she ushered you to come downstairs and figure it out.

so, you followed behind her only to be horrified to see the same lady from a few weeks back.

"you again?!" you gasped, speed walking to the door.

"ah, sorry for the unannounced vis-"

"lady! this whole stalking thing is really getting out of hand! i-i mean, how did you even get my address?! god, i feel like i'm being watched like a hawk! last warning or else i'll report you next time!" you threatened, absolutely baffled. her eyes widened, quickly holding her hands up as surrender.

"please, hear me out. i'm not stalking you! i was escorted here by your coach. i... i wanted you to reconsider!" she expressed, her face displaying desperation.

"what part of what i said to you back then don't you understand? i don't have a passion for soccer." you glared, making her face turn to a frown.

"you can't be good at something if there's no passion to drive you! and you... god, you're damn amazing! your goals, your precision; it's unmatched! y/n, please, it's not only that i want you... no, i need you on my team." she persuaded, making your sigh in annoyance.

"even if i wanted to, i can't. it's too late, i already confirmed my spot at the university and my flight is this weekend." you informed her, trying to make peace.

"that's okay! i'll have my team call your university to place you on a guaranteed waitlist, your spot will still be secured. please, just play for the recruitment matches in blue lock. i promise, if you're eliminated; then you can fall back on this. we'll even pay for your tuition cost and flight expenses." she tries to negotiate and you let out a defeated grumble.

"fucking hell, fine, fine. i'll do it." you agreed, making her eyes light up.

"yes! thank you! thank you so much, y/n." she smiled brightly, digging through her purse before pulling out a small card.

"that's the address to the blue lock facility. the mock matches will be taking place this weekend. i'll see you then, y/n." she hands you the card, making you hum.

the hell did you just get into?

---

so, luck has a weird way of working out, and it turns out that you were able to make it out of the recruitment matches. you were officially on blue lock's team.

well, that happened about four months ago. so far, you're still not sure if it was worth quitting and falling back on your safety option, which was still laid on the table by anri.

"jeez, i thought that the only time a woman would've given me a hard time was after i got married." isagi teased, making you chuckle as you laid on the indoor feild.

"hope you don't get married any time soon, your future wife is gonna have a hard time in social spaces when her husband is getting cancelled every two to five business days." you smirked, making him gasp.

"y/n! i thought we were gonna move past that." he huffed, making you laugh.

"what? about the fact that you become a slur machine when you get pissy?" you egg further, making him roll his eyes before cracking a smile.

"but seriously though, those were some killer goals you made today. especially the far distance one you did, man, it got me sweating! how'd you do it?!" his freakishly big blue eyes peered at you, making you rub the back of your neck as you tried to recall that moment.

"uh... don't know, honestly. it just felt right at that moment and my legs moved on its own to score, i saw the opening and knew it was time." you tried your best to explain in order to give him the most accurate answer possible.

"so what you're saying is... you play based on intuition?" isagi's eyes widened, but, his shock only gained a mere shrug from you.

"guess so." you replied, making him let out a dry chuckle.

"fuck, you're more goated than i anticipated." his eyes glimmered with some odd sparks of a mix of inspiration but at the same time a hint of envy.

"now you're just buttering me up, if you think i'm gonna give you the charred sides of my steak today, it's not happening." you stuck your tongue out, making him let out a dramatic sigh.

"well, it was worth the try." he joked, making you playfully jab his side.

after practice and training sessions for the day ended, everyone had dinner as per usual. you sat with pretty much whoever you felt like you wanted to be around with that day. you were good friends with majority of the blue lock members, keeping a low profile and not really interested in creating unnecessary beef.

isagi wanted to be the best striker? great.

reo? awesome.

nagi? spectacular.

rin? fantastic.

you couldn't give two flying fucks about becoming the world's best striker. you were pretty much shoved into the whole situation by anri's big (creepy) puppy eyes. your friends knew about your whole recruitment process, earning you a mix of bustles of laughter along with some of them weirdly having more admiration towards you.

in short, you had no interest in becoming the best striker. it required too much thinking, too many friendship break ups, and so on.

as long as blue lock makes it to the world cup and wins, everything's peachy because anri got what she wanted from you.

dinner was over and it was still quite early for bed. you decided to go to the shared lounge space, where a big tv was installed in the middle of the room. you were bored and thought maybe you'd watch a movie or rewatch old match; whatever the hell was more interesting than being in the four walls of your shared room with nagi, yuki and rin.

you walked into the lounge area, only to be surprised by seeing all three of your roommates present.

"so now we're having group meetings without me?" you playfully snark, making yuki chuckle.

"me and nagi had a feeling you'd use your imaginary sixth eye to sense us here." he joked, making you laugh.

"they're actually my spidey senses, get it right. you guys being together always means being up to no good." you said before squishing yourself before rin and yuki, as nagi opted out to sit on the carpeted floor in front of your legs.

"yeah, we were coming up with strategies on how demolish the U-20 team." nagi lazily added onto the conversation, making you hum.

"oh, those guys. who's even on that team anyways? i was kinda asleep when ego was talking about it." you sheepishly smiled, making rin scoff.

"seriously? this game is an important debut for blue lock, and you're out here sleeping in meetings? dumbass." rin nagged, making you roll your eyes.

"jeez, sorry mr. perfect, i got tired 'kay? now stop leaving me in the dark and tell me more information about this team." you looked at the pair of teal eyes, trying to count how many under lashes he had in the meanwhile.

"it's japan's national team that's composed of the best japanese soccer players that are under the age of twenty. one them being the biggest pests in my life, itoshi sae." rin enlightened you, and you watched a slight darkened shift in his eyes as he mentioned the foreign name to you.

"itoshi sae? he shares your last name, your older brother?" you asked mindlessly, as you thought out loud.

"what do you think, smartypants?" rin deadpanned, giving you an obvious look, making you chuckle.

"sorry, i didn't wanna assume. listen, your family trauma is yours, buddy; i'm not here to mediate or play therapist, so you can be assured i won't dig further in. but, regardless, he's an opponent. so, just like everyone else, i'm gonna try my best to make sure we win." you offered an encouraging smile.

"whatever, this game is just a stepping stone for me. i'll prove to him just how good i am and make him eat his words." he spoke through gritted teeth.

after about an hour of socializing with your roommates, it was getting late and there was early morning training the following morning as per usual. so, you told your roommates to head back without you and you'd come a bit later; so you bid them goodnight.

after being alone in the lounge, you decided to do some research on this special specimen the entire blue lock facility has been bustling about; itoshi sae.

and with each click of a new article, interview or soccer match; you were horrified and mesmerized at the same time.

how can a human being be so cruel, brash, cocky... but so fluid, sharp and agile? he's worse than a criminal.

the way he shits on japanese soccer.

the way he's convinced that the best striker has yet to be born, let alone in japan.

the way he fucking plays... it's almost arousing; making adrenaline pump through your body as blood rushes all around your blood vessels.

what is this feeling?

this new profound inspiration, ambition and drive you're feeling?

god, why did you wanna suddenly have itoshi sae kneeling in front of you on the damn feild?!

you turned off the tv and decided to call it a night. while you were walking through the hallway in the direction of your room, you see a sleepy rin walking towards you.

"rin." you call out, making him look at you with half-lidded eyes.

"huh? jeez, you still didn't sleep? whatever, i don't have time for your jokes, i gotta piss real bad." rin tried to cut the conversation short, but you grabbed his wrist to stop him from leaving.

"wait. you need to hear me, rin. i don't know if you consider me as a friend or foe, not that i care, but i want you to know that i share the same vision as you." you looked at him with determined eyes, making him cock an eyebrow.

"the hell are you talking about, y/n?" he asked, confused.

"i don't know what kind of gold your brother is hiding that people want so bad. everyone is meat riding him, but i just don’t get it. yes, he has exceptional skills. but, in my eyes, he's just another nuisance of a midfielder who likes to show off." you sprinkled in some insults, but for some reason, that seemed to bother rin a little.

"listen, i hate that prick, but don't water down his play. he played in spain’s youth team and he’s competed against national teams. he’s not just any midfielder, he’s a prodigy, whether i like to admit it or not." rin weirdly defended (?) his brother.

"so he’s got a taste that soccer exists outside of japan, big deal. he’ll be tasting my ass when i crush him during the game." you smirked, making his eyes widen.

"do you know how much weight your words need to have to make a claim like that? you're so naive. anyone who wants to crush itoshi sae has to become the world's best striker; and that's my goal." he glared.

"rin, i don't need to become the world's best striker to crush your brother; 'cause i already am." you bodly stated, not even understanding yourself and where this confidence came from. but, rin looked rather shocked before an unknowing grin tugged on his lips.

without a doubt, talent runs in the itoshi family. both rin and sae possess a strong talent for soccer. although rin knows that he hasn’t leveled with sae yet, he was still very strong. 

that was until you came along. 

you waltzed your way onto the field, as if it was your personal ballroom floor and you danced with the players. you predicted everyone’s moves, while yours remained a mystery. 

rin could still remember how you painfully defeated him in one of the selections and to rub it in his face, you selected him on your team, basically calling him your bitch in other words. 

ouch. 

people underestimated your abilities because you were a woman, but many people in this same facility didn’t even have an ounce of your skill.

 (cough igaguri cough)

"i see, so this is your ego. i'll be looking forward to your play, y/n, and then we'll see if you can live up to your words or eat them." rin darkly chuckled, making you hum.

"night night, rin." you waved at him, deciding to release him from your shackles so he could go pee.

"yeah, yeah, g'night." he half-waved back, before you both went opposite directions.

suddenly, soccer became something that now intoxicated your mind.

---

"y/n!" you heard the familiar high-pitched voice, finishing putting on your jersey shirt as you turned around.

"oh, anri." you gave her a small wave, watching her approach you.

"ready for the game? i know maybe you didn't expect to come this far, but trust me, i envisioned this for you. listen, i know my desires of having you in the blue lock project was selfish of me, but you truly are a precious gem to us." anri spoke with a gentle voice, her words very powerful and encouraging.

of course, the auburn haired woman was expecting some kind of snarky remark or maybe even your eyes rolling at her; your typical responses because you didn't care much about the blue lock project or soccer to begin with.

what she didn't expect was for you to crack a smile, making her eyes widen.

"y'know, at times, i felt like purposely failing the training stages or mock matches; just so i could get out of here through elimination. but, for some odd reason, i couldn't. failure is not a part of my nature, anri. yes, i was forced into this, but it's 'cause i'm damn good at what i do. i was brought here with no internal purpose or passion for soccer, but, things changed over night. quite literally." you decided to give her a slice of your heart to offer some of your true emotions.

"this is different, y/n." her expression and tone was nothing less than pure shock.

"i found meaning in my place here at blue lock. i want to play the kind of soccer that doesn't just make me win, but, makes my blood course through my veins in excitement. i want to feel alive when playing it. now, i found someone who just might let me have that." you grin at her, brushing your hair. anri gave you a puzzled look, trying to think of who could possibly change your heart like this.

"who?" she asked, curiosity pouring out of her eyes.

"itoshi sae." you smirk.

---

“so hungry- ow! ow! ow!” you screamed in pain, trying to kick away nagi, who was helping you stretch out your legs before the game. the match would start in about tenish minutes. you were sprawled on the ground, both of your legs being parted into a split to help your muscles stretch. 

“almost done, stop being such a hassle.” nagi smacked your calves, making you glare at him as you continued to whine and fuss from the burn traveling all over your legs. thankfully, the torture was soon over. 

“alright you dusted lumps of talent, today’s match could be life changing for all of you if victory is brought onto blue lock. get into your positions and good luck to you all.” ego spoke and the doors opened, everyone walking outside into the large stadium. 

you heard people cheering at the top of their lungs, looking around to see the majority wearing and holding merch that branded itoshi sae’s name. you snorted in disbelief, rolling your eyes. 

“ass kissers.” you mumbled to yourself before continuing to walk to your place. you waited for the other team to come out and just on cue, they walked in. you quietely observed each one of them as you familiarized yourself with their traits. 

the person whom you’ve been waiting for finally arrived onto your dance floor, u-20′s number ten, itoshi sae. he felt your intense stare on him, turning his eyes to now look right back at you. you gave him a smirk before waving your hand at him, earning a cocked eyebrow from him as he just rolled his eyes at you before looking away. 

“how rude.” you huffed to yourself and before you knew it, the game began.

you ran to the center where the ball was freely rolling and even though a bunch of other players were running like a herd of buffalos at the ball, you knew they couldn’t get it. 

“you see the ball? well, now you don’t!” you giggled as you placed your foot in front of the ball before turning your feet, making the ball rotate as you kicked it backwards. 

as the ball was now running in the opposite direction, you swiftly jumped over aiku’s feet, running to chase the ball as your feet was bumping with it. you happily hummed, your eyes still aware of your surroundings as you noticed sendou and aiku now at your sides. 

“hey, pretty lady! that wasn’t very nice of you.” you look over at aiku who was coming towards you, extending his annoying long legs to overpower your movements. 

"bite me, snake." you smirked before noticing isagi at your peripheral vision, kicking the ball right between sendou's legs to pass it to your friend.

you panted, trying to catch your breath as you watched isagi getting in position as he tried to make the direct shot, only for it to be struck down. your eyes widened as you saw the player with blonde hair and pink tips use his head to stop the goal from going in. 

you read his name on his shirt, shidou. 

“what the hell.” you furrowed your eyebrows, running towards the previous formation as shidou passed the ball to the auburn haired male. sae surpressed isagi and chigiri’s speed and then with one quick motion, the ball hit the net. 

“that fucking blonde cockroach.” you heard rin swear under his breath, sweat drizzling down the sides of his face. 

this was going to be interesting. 

the match continued on and u-20 was in the lead. your legs practically felt like jelly, looking at the score board with read 3-3. majority of the goals were made by shidou or sae on the u-20 team, they were devouring everyone and anything in their way. 

as for blue lock, the first goal was made nagi, followed by barou and then isagi. both teams were now tied and slowly the 90 minute clock was running out; as there was only 20 minutes left.

this was the last chance, within those 20 minutes, a goal will be made and that team will take home victory.

fuck, you felt like throwing up.

you were getting pissed off, mainly because of the fact that the only person holding everyone back was rin. you knew that there was some kind of drama going on between the itoshi brothers, but rin wasn’t playing in the right state of mind. 

“rin, pass!” you yelled, watching him go berserk as he had his tongue out and was drooling. rin looked at you with a clouded look before snickering. 

“out of my fucking way, dumbass.” he shoved you away, rejecting to pass the ball to you when you were at a perfect range to shoot. you saw that his main goal was to go head on head with his brother, but that was ultimately a bad idea because sae was protected by shidou as back up. 

“y/n! you okay?” you heard reo ask as he ran besides you. 

“yeah, i’m fine. but, i don’t think rin is.” you breathed out, trying to catch up to rin who was running in full spped. suddenly, in an attempt to go around shidou, he accidentally kicked his leg when the both of them tried to kick the ball. 

“fuck.” you cursed, hearing the whistle blow. 

“itoshi rin, yellow card.” 

“idiot.” you murmured under your breath as you took this as a chance to steal the ball from rin. you were now in the middle of the feild and the goal was still in a pretty far distance for you to shoot. 

suddenly, you felt an arm over your chest in an attempt to block and delay your movement. you looked over to your side and your heart jumped in your chest as you met with the striking teal orbs of the star of the show; the player you've been looking forward to play against so much that you couldn't get a wink of sleep.

itoshi sae.

“my, my! didn’t your mommy teach you not to touch a woman without her permission? you’re naughty, sae.” you teased, trying your best to keep your leg ahead of his. you knew that sae’s main skill was his sharp shooting range and that if he somehow got control over the ball right now, it’d be game over. 

you watched over his moves through his game recordings numerous amount of times to predict his play style.

shamelessly, your eyes watched how his meaty and juicy thighs flexed while he ran. you couldn't help the feeling of your stomach tightening, as having such a handsome guy all up on you made your panties twist.

“shut it, you little minx.” sae grumbled, and just as you felt his legs coming to swing faster, you used your right foot to kick the ball to the side. 

“you-” he looked at you with wide eyes, only to receive a cocky smile. 

“see ya!” you finally able to escape him as your main concern was now to get past shidou who was guarding your shooting point. 

"so we meet again, girl. blue lock's ace, a woman, who's been taking the soccer world by storm." you heard shidou cackle as he hovered side to side. you chuckled, hitting him with fast dribbles.

“yeah and you’re about to find out why.” you grinned, kicking the ball directly upwards before leaping into the air, lightly swinging your feet at a calculated angle with a gentle impact. it was enough to make the ball fly past his shoulder, and you quickly ran around the distracted male to catch up with the ball.

the hardest obstacle was down.

"shit, you're cool as fuck, girl." shidou muttered under his breath, still in disbelief from the move you just pulled to move past his block.

in the distance, sae watched you like a hawk, amazed by your game tactic. 

it almost seemed as if you weren’t human as no one in this entire universe could’ve predicted you to do that. 

not even the prodigy himself. 

there was no way in hell any player could've passed that block with shidou and sendou cornering you.

damn, you literally defied the laws of physics.

you were still at a pretty far range to shoot, but, the goal was swarming with dangerous players who were firm to not let you have that opening.

"ah, how annoying." you sighed.

of course, your moves annoyed sae as he was now lunging towards you, trying to stop you from advancing any further. the auburn haired male was pissed, no, beyond pissed as he ran besides you.

“can’t get enough of me? you get me so excited, sae!” you exclaimed, watching him frown as he struggled to predict when the ball was going to move left or right based on your footwork. 

"just what are you, woman?! i've never met a player like you!" sae angrily spoke, panting while he tried to take control over the ball. you smirked, feeling like your heart was about to combust just from being acknowledged by him.

"are you falling in love with me?" you asked with a cheeky smirk.

"fucking brat." he scoffed.

“i’ll call this goal, ‘if i score, then sae gets to fuck this hole’, ‘kay?” you taunted and then what happened next was beyond shocking. 

you were in no position to shoot and strike a goal, the range was still far and the goal was blocked. shidou was advancing and you were slowly getting cornered with sae on your side and sendou advancing towards your other side.

but, it felt right.

no, no, it is right. this was the perfect timing, the perfect position-

the perfect moment to score a goal.

if you can't find an opening on the field, look above and create your own, that's your play style.

you diagonally cut through his run, making the tip of your feet scoop the ball as you kicked it in the air. another jump and now you were in the air, as you spun and swerved your body to the left, giving the ball a powerful kick. 

your eyes watched the ball zoom past the goal keeper’s head, hitting the net as you came back down on the ground. sae blinked dumbfoundedly at you, trying to process what the hell just happened. 

the crowd roared with cheers.

you collapsed on the ground, breathing heavy as the whistle blew, time was up and blue lock scored the winning goal thanks to you. before you could even register your win, you were swooped off the ground by your teammates as they huddled while lifting you in the air, a tsunami of praises and congratulations was showered on you.

“hm, wait. i’ll be back.” you patted nagi’s shoulder to usher him to put you down, as he carefully placed you back on the ground. 

you walked over to u-20′s players who were sitting on the grassy field, faces expressing scowls and sadness from their bitter defeat. yet, you saw sae standing unbothered as shidou was blabbering to him about some random nonsense, before noticing you approaching them. 

“oh, would you look at who came to pay us a visit.” shidou sneered, giving you narrowed eyes as you shrugged. 

“i'm not interested in you, blondie.” you snapped at him, making him slightly irritated by how you spoke to him.

sae didn’t want to become involved with this little feud you had going on with shidou, silently watching you both fuss and fight over today’s match. he had to admit, watching you play had riled him up. 

both sexually and mentally. 

the announcers were urgently instructing all players to evacuate the field as the game has been over since fifteen minutes ago. you heard your team members call your name, so you decided not to waste more time. 

"before i forget to keep my promise that i made with rin.” you remembered, your lips curling upwards cheekily. you placed your index and middle finger on sae’s lips as if you were hushing him, before bringing those two fingers to tap your butt cheek. 

“choo~” you smooched the air, watching sae’s jaw drop. shidou could slowly feel his blood boil and swore that if you weren’t a woman, then he would've long broke out into a fist fight with you. 

"bye-bye." you waved at sae before running the opposite direction to where your friends were standing. 

---

you entered the backstage of the stadium for only player entry. you were excited to finally get out of your uniform and take a cold shower after such an intense game. curious eyes were scanning for blue lock's locker room as you hummed a little tune, until someone grabbed your arm and pulled you into some room. 

“what the f-” you yelped, only to have your words be muffled as the person clamped their hand over your mouth. you looked up and saw that it was sae, looking down at you with sharp teal eyes. 

“well, well, well. just the person i've been waiting for.” he snarked, his voice sending chills down your spine. you realized that you were in u-20's locker room with him. your hands quickly came up to peel his hand off of your mouth. 

“the hell is wrong with you? someone might come inside and get the wrong idea.” you furrowed your eyebrows, trying to turn your heels and leave the bathroom. however, with one swift motion, you were now pinned against the door as sae caged you between his arms. 

"you've been annoying the shit out of me ever since i've known about your existence. i've watched the recorded tapes of your mock games at blue lock and though the other players never stood out to me... you were always the odd one out. the way you'd play on the field like you had no fucking clue the hell you were doing but at the same time; it felt like you outsmarted everyone. i can't believe i fell into that trap today even after analyzing you to the core." he bitterly spat out, making you look at him with bored eyes.

"listen, mr. prodigy, i get it that this might be your first loss; but taking it out on me won't change the scores." you nonchalantly replied, somehow making his skin burn in anger even more.

"you’ve got some real talent, I’m not gonna deny that. but your little hat-tricks are a bit immature, aren’t they?” he questioned, making you shrug.

"as long as my team's winning, i don't care." you answered, making him chuckle, the corner of his lips lifting up slightly at your bold proclamation.

"hah! that’s a dangerous mindset. arrogance isn’t always a good look for a player. but i gotta admit, it fits you.” sae sneered, a smirk etched on his lips.

"confidence not arrogance, don't get it twisted." you corrected him, shooting a glare at him.

“oh, really? confidence, hm? or maybe you’re just in denial about being a little arrogant?” he continued to taunt you, making you darkly chuckle.

"go back to school and learn the difference, sae. i can tell you're lacking up here since you went to spain so early. poor you." you pouted, jabbing at his temple.

"yeah? let's talk about you, miss. yale. you wanted to become a doctor, no? only to end up as ego's puppet for blue lock. poor you." sae mocked your words, his insult made your jaw lock.

"how the fuck do you know that?" you said through gritted teeth, his face glimmering with amusement.

"i have a good sense of every player's background to know how much of a pain in my ass they're gonna be during a game." he cockily remarked, making you roll your eyes.

"oh please, you're like the soccer princess, always getting his way. you stupid dumb brat, always wanting stuff and getting it 'cause you're a lump of talent who went international as a youth. you whisked away shidou from our team, who's gonna be your next BL victim?" you scoffed, shoving him off of you to place some distance between you two.

"excuse me? that’s a bit rich coming from you. i do have talent, yes, but i’ve worked hard for it. you don’t know what i had to go through to get where i am now, so don’t act like you know everything about me." sae’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by a look of annoyance at your harsh words.

"uh-huh. so, you cried to your management that you wouldn't play in u-20 against BL unless you could pick whichever BL player you want to join you? how lame. you think you're the best?" you asked, voice laced with irritation from how much he was pissing you off.

"i didn’t ‘cry to my management’, they just know what i have to offer. and yes, i do think i’m the best. i’ve proven it on the field time after time.” he stepped closer to you, now hovering above you with his annoyingly tall height.

damn the itoshi brothers for inheriting such good genes.

"i heard it with my own ears. when ego and your managers were having that meeting, i happened to pass by the conference room. you're quite the brat. aren't you supposed to be the older itoshi?" you poked fun at him, giggling a little at the end.

"you… you eavesdropped on the meeting? and you’re still throwing a fit? how immature can you be? it was a strategic decision and you know it. picking the right players to my advantage is part of the game. you’re just mad that i chose shidou.” sae scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"mad? hah! don't make me laugh. you could have the pink tip blonde freak for all i care! listen, itoshi, i could win with or without shidou being on my team, got it? i'm damn fucking good at what i do, 'cause if i wasn't, then my ass would've been halfway across the globe by now. i'm the muse to this whole orchestra out of all you mediocre artists. strategic decision? seems more like a cry for help. what are you? five? picking and trading toys? please, give me a break. i'd rather quit soccer than have you make me your bitch." you angrily spewed at him, making his eyes narrow at your words.

sae is stunned into silence for a moment, taken aback by your fierce and fiery declaration. he takes a moment to process your words, before responding with a sharp edge to his voice.

"you got an awfully talkative mouth, huh? ever thought of putting that mouth to some good use than spewing all this bullshit?" he harshly squished your cheeks together with his hand, making you wince a little.

"sorry that i can't match your brattiness, it's not in my nature to act like a lukewarm spoiled brat." your words were slightly muffled, but it rang clear in his ears, especially the familiar word you picked up most likely from his younger brother.

"lukewarm, hm? did my shit of a little brother teach you that? you seem to be close to him, having the nerve to approach me after the game and pull that little stunt of yours to keep the so-called promise you made to him. what kinda promise? that you'd make me kiss your ass?" sae cocked an eyebrow, peering down at you as you couldn't help but count his under lashes.

"it was just a stupid joke, you don't have to act like i shoved the damn soccer ball up your ass." you rolled your eyes, making him let out a dry chuckle.

"nah, it's not that. it's just... you seem to be a woman of your words; but you're forgetting the promise you made to me." he smirked at you, his eyes darkening with lust.

"what?" your eyebrows furrowed in confusion momentarily.

you tried to recall what you even said to him. when you’re on the field, you tend to spew out random shit from your mind and mouth, not thinking twice about it. 

“you scored the winning goal, didn’t you?” sae helped you remember, his hands coming down to wrap around your waist before he pressed himself on you. 

“i’ll call this goal ‘if i score, then sae gets to fuck this hole’, ‘kay?”

your words rang in your mind loud and clear, your eyes widening in shock as you realized what you’ve done. sae noticed you expression, his smirk widening as he knew that you were all bark and no bite. 

but, that’s what made you seem more alluring to him. 

“whimping out, sweetheart?” he said, a fake pout forming on his lips. what he didn’t expect is your arms wrapping around his neck before harshly pulling him towards your face. you crashed your lips on him, roughly kissing the soft-pillow like flesh. 

“you said it, i’m a woman of my words, sae. besides, not everyone gets the chance to fuck the world’s best striker, y'know. so, you’re welcome.” you grinned against his lips before playfully biting down on his lower lip. 

"you vixen." he whispered against your lips, warm breath fanning over yours before he locked you in another searing kiss. your fingers weaved through his soft auburn hair, following the rhythm of his lips. sae's hand was still cupping your jaw, keeping you in place as he tilted his face slightly to the side, the new angle allowing him to kiss you deeper.

you felt his thigh intrude between your legs, spreading you open as he rubbed his muscular quad against your clothed pussy. the small friction alone was providing enough stimulation to your throbbing clit that made you gasp a small moan; making him smirk against your lips before cheekily using the provided entrance to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

you felt the wet muscle gently poking yours occasionally before slowly wrapping around your tongue. the wet sounds of your mixed salivas and mingling tongues followed by the smooch noise echoed throughout the empty locker room; making your pussy drip with arousal.

your head was spinning, both from sae's intoxicating cologne along with the heated kiss. your face was flushed and your brain was practically turned into mush.

you sucked on his bottom lip before giving it a gentle nibble. the both of you soon pulled away, breathing heavy from the lack of oxygen due to the breath-taking makeout session you just had; a string of saliva connecting the both of your lips.

fuck, he looked so sexy like this.

sae's hair was dishevealed, cheeks tinted with a slight pink, teal eyes half-liddedly staring at yours like a sly siren and his lips plump from the intense kissing.

he leaned forwards, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your jawline before moving down to your neck. your mouth was slightly agape, soft whimpers ocassionally slipping out of your lips as you felt him kiss and lick the soft flesh of your neck. he gently bit down before suckling the area, making your breath hitch.

"h-hey! you're gonna leave a mark." you stuttered, but sae couldn't find it in him to care. in fact, the thought of him marking you up everywhere sent blood straight to his cock; making him impossibly even harder than he already was.

"so? i don't see the problem. what if i want all the other players to know i claimed you as mine?" he spoke in a low tone, almost as soft and alluring as a whisper. you could feel him rub the bridge of his nose against your neck; sending goosebumps all over your body.

"i don't belong to anyone." you meekly responded, though you tried to sound as stern as possible; obviously failing to do so. sae let out a dry chuckle, finding your answer a bit amusing.

"oh really? i'm hurt. you pulled out so many cool tricks from your sleeve during the game, flirted with me on the field, saying lewd things to me before scoring, promised my little brother to have me kiss your ass... all of that just for me to notice you, no?" he teased, his hands going south as he traced the outline of your hips before harshly pushing them down, making you grind against his thigh.

"f-fuck." you moaned, feeling yourself getting wetter by his actions. however, sae wasn't complaining, seeing how your facial expressions were twisting with pleasure made his mind fog up with lust.

"bet you were thinking about this while playing on the field. imagining all sort of naughty things you'd want me to do to you, hm? god, never would've expected blue lock's ace to be... such a slut." he snickered, his hands moving behinds to give your ass a firm squeeze followed by a harsh spank; making you yelp.

"i wasn't!" you tried to defend yourself, finding a convincing voice by shooing away your horny thoughts.

"you sure about that, princess?" sae grins, his hand cupping your clothed pussy before using his slender fingers to rub against your slit. he could feel your wetness, making him scoff.

"you're dripping and still have the nerve to lie to my face? there's two things i hate in this world. number one is losing and the second thing is liars; two things which you already violated. i should punish you, no?" he darkly chuckled, before pulling you back into a mind-blowing kiss.

"wha.." you tried to comprehend what his words meant, but it seemed that he preferred to show you.

"strip." sae mumbled under his breath, tugging at the waistband of your shorts. you swallowed harshly, trying to clear your head and maybe push him away.

you knew this was wrong!

it was one thing teasing and riling each other up on the field, but fucking your enemy? what would your team members think if they ever found out?

holy shit, what would rin think?!

but, fuck, it felt so right.

you couldn't deny the fact that sae made you feel so hot and bothered, both on and off the field. and the way he was towering over you with his staggering height and angelic yet demanding voice.

you were under his spell; unable to resist anymore... not that you were in the first place.

you grabbed the hem of your jersey before peeling it off of your body, a small sheen of sweat covering your body made your skin glisten under the dim lights of the air-conditioned locker room. you threw your shirt to the side before sliding off your shorts; the last article of uniform meeting the same fate as your jersey on the floor.

you now stood exposed in your half-naked glory; in a pair of baby blue laced panties with a matching bra to go with it. sae's eyes followed your movements with striking anticipation, trained on your body as he shamelessly drank in the sight of your beauty.

you were perfect in every shape and form.

your body was lean and fit, lacking muscle mass unlike other players; but you were toned. his eyes focused on how your tits sat so prettily within the cups of your bra, making his hands itch to hold them instead. his eyes trailed down, being able to see your beautiful plump round ass even from the side; he wanted to touch the soft bare flesh so bad.

after all, it was his biggest fetish.

sae took slow strides towards you, predatory eyes never leaving your body as he hovered above you. he grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes while his other hand danced along your spine; pulling you close to him.

you smelled so feminine and sweet; like a subtle peach scent.

"you have no idea what you do to me and it's driving me insane because i wanna ruin you." he confessed, making you give him a sly smirk.

"then what's stopping you?" you boldly replied, and it seemed as if the gears in his brain stopped working.

"damn right." without another word, he grabbed the back of your thighs and swiftly lifted you up in his arms. you wrapped your legs around his waist, arms lacing around his neck as you kissed the side of his neck and peppered his face with soft kisses. he chuckled, giving your ass a light spank while walking over to the bench, sitting down while you straddled his lap.

you noticed he was still fully clothed, making you pout. he cocked an eyebrow in confusion at your expression.

"why am i the only one naked? take off your clothes too." you huffed out, making him laugh.

"how rude of me. why don't you take the honors of stripping me then, princess." he rubbed the palm of his hand along your sides, making a shiver run down your spine.

you nod obediently, you hand reaching down with fingers hooking under the hem of his jersey. you lifted the article of clothing above his head, revealing more and more of his extremely toned and muscular body with each heightened inch of the fabric. you threw away the shirt to the side, eager hands now touching the soft flesh of his bare chest. your eyes shamelessly wandered, noticing how defined his abs were, his pecs looked so juicy and plump, broad shoulders and his biceps were so fucking thick it made you wonder how it'd feel for them to lock you in a headlock.

you scooted off his lap, standing up before grabbing his wrist to pull him off the bench and follow your steps. you grabbed the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down; now leaving him in his calvin klein boxers; your eyes going down and noticing the prominent bulge inbetween his thick muscular thighs.

fuck, you just knew he was long and thick from how big the bulge was.

your mouth was salivating, wanting... no, needing a taste of him. you were about to drop down to your knees, only to be halted by sae as he grabbed your hands.

"not yet. bad girls don't deserve my cock in their mouth without paying for their punishment first." sae grinned, pulling you back on the bench as he sat down.

"bend over." he blurted, patting his thigh. your eyes widened, wondering just what was up his sleeve.

you gulped, crawling over his lap as you used the palm of your hands to support you, as you were now bent over his thighs. his palm gently caressed the dome of your ass, you shuddered as you felt his feather-like touches.

"what a beautiful ass you have, darling." he lewdly complimented, making your knees weak as your panties dampened from his words.

"t-thanks.." you squealed when you felt a tight slap on your cheek, making you jolt. sae smirked at your reaction, squeezing the abused flesh afterwards.

"i knew you were gonna be an interesting player, just by the shape of this pretty little ass of yours." sae spoke in a seductive tone, making you clear your throat as you looked back at him.

"seems more like an excuse for you to be a pervert." you snarked, earning another harsh spank on your ass cheek; making you wince.

"careful with that mouth of yours, princess. pervert or not, yours is hard to miss when you're flaunting it to me." he scoffed, groping the supple fat in his palms.

"now, let's see how much you really know about me." sae smirks before leaning down to press a gentle kiss on your ass; making you gasp at the soft gesture.

"huh?" you breathed out.

"what's the number on my jersey?" he suddenly questioned, making you give him a puzzled look.

"10." you responded, making him smile.

"good, that's exactly how many times i'm gonna spank this sweet ass of yours. so, better keep count in case i accidentally miscount." sae sadistically smirked at you, playfully biting your ass cheek before giving it a wet smooch; making you tremble and his ministrations didn't even start.

you were facing away from him, heart pounding in your chest and then came the first impact.

smack!

it was a tight spank, making your body jolt as the pain spread into a sadistic pleasure across your body.

"one." you muttered, swallowing down a moan.

"keep hiding your moans and i'll double it." he threatened, making your eyes widen as you shook your head.

then came the second slap, making your thighs clench as the impact sent shock-waves right between your legs. you whimpered in pain and pleasure, closing your eyes as your knees shook beneath you. god, you were aching for him to touch you, even if it meant this.

"t-two." you breathed out.

"good." sae teasingly praised, rubbing his palm on the now warm surface of your ass cheek, making you shake.

but, it didn't last long until the third spank came down on you.

then the fourth... fifth... sixth... seventh... eighth... ninth...

each slap getting slightly louder and harder, making you moan like a bitch in heat as your skin tingled from the harsh impact. you were heaving, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to muster the strength to keep yourself lifted and not collapse on his thighs.

"last one, gotta make it count, right?" you could feel him sadistically smirk, patting the bruised flesh.

sae slapped your ass once more, making you gasp as you felt him squeeze the supple fat of your cheek right afterwards before giving it a few gentle spanks all around; making you cry out.

"ten!" you cried, looking back at him with a dazed look, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

sae took a moment to drink in the sight in front of him. your back arched, ass in his face as the bruised red-plump flesh was warm against the palm of his hand, your begging face and disheaveled state; it made him wanna toy around with you even more.

"what a good girl you are, y/n." he peppered feather like kisses on your ass, making you bite your lips as you tried to contain yourself.

"please.. please, stop teasing. i-i can't anymore." you embarrassingly begged him, making him grin.

"you can't? how unfortunate. i guess we should stop then." sae suddenly proclaimed, shrugging as he pulled you up to sit on the bench, the cold material of the hard wood making contact with your warm spanked ass made you wince as it stung. but, you were quick to wrap your hand around his bicep, stopping him.

"n-no! that's not what i meant." you licked your lips, crawling back on his lap as you kissed his jaw.

"then tell me what you want, princess." he whispered in your ear, playfully biting your earlobe, sending chills all over your body.

"touch me... i want you to touch me, sae. i need you so bad." you cupped his face, looking into his glimmering teal eyes. it was a bad habit, but you couldn't help but count his damn under lashes.

"yeah? want me to play with that naughty pussy of yours, hm? bet she's dripping for me." he lewdly spoke, making you nod as your brain was no longer in your head but your pussy.

"m-mhm, so wet for you, sae. need you to touch it, pretty please?" you kissed his neck, before giving it a gentle bite followed by a teasing kitten lick.

"okay, since you asked so nicely, cariño." sae gave you a boyish smile, the spanish term of endearment slipping off his tongue so seductively.

he placed his hands on the sides of your waist, gently turning you around so that your back was against his chest. sae leaned down, kissing down your neck till he reached your collarbone, licking your skin before biting down gently.

you gasped, your hand going behind his head to find purchase in his hair. his hands came up, roughly pushing the cups of your bra down, making your tits spill out. his eyes widened, mouth salivating at the site of your perky nipples swelling from being neglected.

"you're driving me insane." sae cursed under his breath, his hands now cupping your tits as he gave them both a gentle squeeze. you moaned from the sudden fondling, breathing becoming irregular.

he rolled your buds between his index and thumb, giving them both a slight pinch; making you swallow hard. you squirmed in his hold, getting a bit antsy.

"patience." he warned, making you whine.

sae's slender fingers moved down, ghosting along your hips before hooking under the waistband of your panties. with one swift motion, he pulled the laced fabric down your legs, lightly throwing them to the side.

your breath hitched at the sudden exposure, cold air hitting you right between your legs, making you automatically clench your thighs together. however, your actions displeased the auburn haired male, making him slap your thigh.

"you want me to touch you or no? spead your legs, girl." sae commanded, making you shyly widen the gap, but not fast enough as his patience was wearing thin.

he opened his legs a little wider, forcing your own to follow in suit as your legs were drapped over his. a satisfied smirk ghosted on his lips as he peered down.

"spread your lips open, cariño, let me see her." sae took your hand, guiding it to your wet cunt.

you followed his order, using your index and middle finger to spread your pussy open, making him shamelessly look at the mess between your legs. your wetness was coating your slit, webbing on your sopping folds as he could see your swollen clit peaking out.

"hmm... beautiful, such a pretty pussy. give her a little spank." he kissed the side of your head, your eyes widening at his request.

"huh?" you stammered, making him glare at you.

"go on, spank her. 'cause if i do it, then it won't stop at one." sae threatened, making you swallow the lump in your throat. your hand shakily hovered above your dripping cunt before giving it a wet slap, making you jolt from the impact, a moan escaping your throat.

"another one." he egged further, and you followed.

"ngh, sae." you slurred out his name, leaning against his chest as your heart raced.

his hand came up to cup your jaw, tilting your head to the side to give him access to your lips. sae crashed his lips onto yours, knocking the wind from your lungs. his free hand trailed downwards, grazing against your hand that was inbetween your thighs.

sae replaced your fingers with his, the pad of his index finger gently caressing your clit. you moaned in his mouth, feeling his finger run up and down your wet slit. he began to rub your clit at a leisurely pace, making your eyes roll back from the stimulation.

he was so good at multitasking, ensuring that his lips continued to mold onto yours; tongues dancing in a fierce battle. he sucked and licked your lips, not giving you time to breathe.

without warning, you felt the tip of his finger brushing against your hole. you gasped, feeling it protrude in the tight opening.

"s-sae!" you moaned out his name, feeling him thrust his finger in, your warm wet walls clamping down on his digit.

"shit, you're so tight. how you gonna fit the real deal, princess?" he chuckled, thrusting his finger back and forth to loosen you up before adding a second one.

you didn't really have a long history of sexual partners, you weren't a virgin, but your experience in sex was still pretty lowly average. of course, you'd masturbate and get yourself off.

but, you never really had the chance to do it after entering blue lock because privacy was very limited when you're sharing rooms and bathrooms with other players.

sae scissored his fingers in and out, your slippery walls making it a little easier for him to glide his digits inside. the room was filled with the wet sounds of him fucking his fingers into your hole; your legs trembling and you breathed heavily while moaning his name.

"sae! f-fuck, oh my god... hnghh-" you felt his pace increase, his free hand massaging your tits, pinching the neglected pebble.

the whole scene looked like something straight out of a porno.

you're spread out on his lap, his hand inbetween your thighs as three of his fingers were working their way fucking in and out of your messy whole, your juices leaking out onto the bench, tits splayed out while being fondled with his hand; while his lips ocassionally pulled you into sloppy kisses.

"w-wait! fuck, it's too much!" you cried out, your hand shooting down to grab at his wrist, but the pressure you applied was nothing compared to his strength.

"you can take it. come on, cariño, make a mess for me." sae encouraged, keeping the brutal pace of his fingers as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. you felt the tightening sensation in your core, face heating up as your eyes shut tight; knees growing week as you cried out in pleasure.

what both you and sae didn't expect was that you squirted everywhere.

"there we go." he praised, slowly thrusting his digits in and out now, his hand drenched in your juices which were now dripping down your thighs and onto the bench.

"god damn..." you mumbled under your breath, trying to calm down from the high. you were still dazed out, feeling the loss of contact as he pulled his finger out; wet and webbed with your cum as you looked up at him.

sae gave you a sly smirk, bringing his cum covered fingers to his lips before pushing them in his mouth, sucking your juices off. your eyes widened at his actions.

"so sweet." he commented, watching your eyes cloud with lust.

"have a taste, princess." sae's fingers cupped your wet cunt, running his fingers against your slit to get them wet again, making you wimper as he grazed against your sensitive clit. he brought his hand up to your lips, watching you open your mouth as he shoved his fingers in, pressing his digits down on your tongue while you suckled them; tasting yourself.

"you're so cute when your mouth isn't yapping nonstop. i knew we could put that mouth to some better use." he snickered from above you, making you roll your eyes and you playfully bit down on his fingers.

"heh, as expected... always so feisty." he grinned, leaning down to press a soft yet teasing kiss on your lips. you smirked into the kiss, a cheeky finger going down to hook under the waistband of his boxers, slinging it against his stomach; earning a groan from his lips.

"off." you blurted out, making him chuckle.

"eager are we?" he taunted, watching you stand up and wait for him to slip out of his boxers.

once he did, god, you weren't expecting any less.

you oggled at the sight, he was fucking hung to say the least; standing at least a good eight inches. his cock was long and thick, balls hanging heavy and his blush colored tip oozed with beads of precum. your mouth watered and without any hesitation, you dropped to your knees.

your hand was barely able to wrap around his girth, holding onto his hard cock firmly. you saw his jaw clench, shuddering under your touch as you began to slide your hands up and down his shaft. you thumbed at leaky tip, spreading the oozing precum before bringing your thumb up to your lips, licking it while looking up at the gorgeous man before you.

"fuckin' tease." sae grumbled, his hand pushing away the loose strands of hair cascading on your face, tucking it behind your ear to get a good look at your pretty face. he unclasped your bra before throwing it over to the side, hating how it was getting in the way.

a single vein ran up the underside of his cock, your tongue tracing its outline before wrapping your lips around the tip of his dick. your tongue circled around the sensitive flesh before shoving more of his length down your throat. a guttural moan escaped his mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled your head closer.

"fuckkkk... just like that, pretty girl." he groaned out, looking down at you bobbing up and down his hard cock. of course, he was so big that you couldn't fit all of it in your mouth. so, whatever was left behind, you made sure to have your hand do the pleasing.

sae felt like his dick was gonna burst any moment, never feeling this kind of intense pleasure before; and he's had his fair share of experience with women.

but you? no, you were different.

you knew how to push his buttons, how to rile him up, how to toy with him... fuck, you knew him.

the way you twisted your hands along the base of his shaft, fondling with his balls ocassionally, while your mouth was doing wonders. the way your wet muscle suckled and licked his tip, your throat tightening as you swallowed his dick; it drove him to the edge.

"god, you're so perfect. so good, s-shit, i'm gonna cum." sae moaned, grabbing the sides of your head as he began to thrust his hips forwards, throat fucking you. your eyes widened, grabbing onto his thighs as you tried to match his rhythm, gagging on his length as tears welled in your eyes.

"fuck, fuck, fuck! take it, shit, take it all." he breathed heavily, pushing your mouth as far as you could take him, holding you there as his cock twitched in your mouth; sticky white ropes of cum painting your throat.

you swallowed as much as you could, releasing his cock with a lewd pop, but he wasn't done cumming.

fuck, he cums so much.

sae jerked his cock on top of your face, the warm liquid coating your cheeks as you closed your eyes, some of it dripping down to the valley between your tits.

you opened your eyes with a fucked out expression, lazily smirking as you scooped some of his cum from your tits before sucking it off your finger. sae watched you with his mouth slightly open, his slightly limp cock now hardening again.

"god, you dirty fuckin' girl." he lowly chuckled, using his thumb to smear his cum on your cheek before scooping some and placing his thumb on your tongue.

"yummy." you giggled, licking his thumb.

"c'mere." sae pulled you up, tapping the underside of your thigh to usher you to jump. you followed, feeling his arms hooking under your thighs to securely hold you; your legs wrapped around his waist and arms wrapped around his neck.

you felt his dick sliding between your folds, making you whimper as he walked further inside the locker room towards where the showers were. he opened one of the stalls, stepping in before locking the door behind him.

sae turned on the water, the warm water running down both of your bodies. his hands came up to cup your face, slowly washing away your cum-stained face as his fingers gently rubbed against your skin.

"you're so pretty, princess. even when you're covered in my cum." sae smirked, making you chuckle.

"yeah?" you smiled, a soft blush creeping up to your cheeks. he hummed in response, leaning down to press soft kisses on the wet skin of your tits, before popping one of them in his mouth.

"sae.." you softly breathed out, pulling him closer as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, suckling gently while cupping your ass.

"okay, no more of these games. i need you, y/n." he confessed, releasing your nipple from his mouth before pinning you on the wall. sae lifted one of your thighs, taking a hold of his cock as he began to rub the tip of it along your slit.

"fuckkk.." you cursed, the delicious feeling on his tip brushing against your clit provided you with so much pleasurable stimulation. despite the warm water, sae could feel your slick coating his cock with every push and grind of his meaty cock between your glistening folds.

the tip of his dick poked at your entrance, making your breath hitch. sae began to slowly push the tip in, making you wince in pain as he released a breath he didn't even realize he was holding.

"g-god, you gotta relax, cariño. you're so damn tight." sae groaned, gently thrusting his tip in and out of your hole. you moaned against the flesh of his neck, pleasure pumping in your veins. suddenly, he pulled out completely before with one swift and hard thurst; ramming in his whole length, making you scream in a mix of pain and pleasure.

"shhh... it's okay, pretty girl. look at you taking me so well, how slutty." he reassured you in the most lewd way possible, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he began to quicken the pace of his thrusts. you could feel his cock swelling with blood inside your velvety slick walls, the single vein deliciously rubbing your insides.

"nghh, sae! f-faster, please." you begged, your mind clouded in a fucked out haze as you couldn't even form coherent sentences. however, sae was equally as consumed in pleasure as you, giving into your requests as his grip on you was firm, fucking into you at a brutal speed.

the room was filled by gasping breaths, the wet slapping noises of skin going pap! pap! pap! and of course the combined harmonization of you two horny fucks moaning.

suddenly, the locker room door flung open, followed by the noisy chatter of his teammates.

your eyes widened as you looked at sae, who had stopped his movement and had an almost copy-paste expression as you.

"huh? the shower is still going." aiku took note as footsteps drew closer to the showers.

red alarms went off in both of your heads as sae quickly lifted you in his arms, trying to erase the evidence of having another person in the stall with him.

"who's in there?" sendo asked, making sae roll his eyes.

"it's me, you half-witted monkey." sae calmly replied, rolling his eyes when he heard aiku cackle at his comment.

"no wonder why we missed you, little genius." aiku teased, making sae huff out in annoyance.

you were praying to god that they left soon because you were still quite literally impaled on sae's hard cock, clinging onto him for dear life so that your legs aren't spotted beneath the stall.

"you think you're so high and mighty, huh? mr. prodigy. but, just so you know, i've been a long-term player on this team and i've devised many plans with aiku! so have some respect." sendo snickered, his voice echoing in the locker room.

you felt sae shift, his cock rubbing against your wall from the movement making you bite down on your lower lip to contain the moan that was itching to leave your throat. he noticed, an evil smirk tugging at his lips.

"yeah? and what good was brought during today's game under your useless leadership?" sae taunted, now rocking his hips back and forth, lightly swinging you forwards as your eyes widened at his movements.

the tip of his cock kissed your sweet spot, making your eyes screw shut as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"what did you say to me, you freak?! the scores of today's game was out of our control! nobody could've predicted that weird girl's movements." sendo complained, anger projecting towards you.

"blaming your incompetence on someone else's skills is not a good look, captain's ass-kisser. maybe you should look at your own faults before dragging person b." he defended your name, continuing to thrust in you slow but hard, making you bite down on his shoulder as your nails dug in his back.

sae let out a low breathy moan, which was muffled under the sound of the pouring shower; only allowing you to hear it by your ear.

"hey, hey, stop. no more fighting, guys. what's done is done, we can't change the scores. that girl has some powerful talent, no one can deny it; and it must be true if the prodigy himself admits it. anyways, we're gonna be on the bus, so finish your shower soon." aiku mediated and soon the both of them left as their footsteps disappeared; the locker room door slamming shut.

you lifted your head and faced the older itoshi, a glare shooting at him. however, he didn't seem to be bothered as he gave you a small grin.

"you think this is funny?! your team members were literally on the other side of this stall door, sae! we could've gotten caught." you nagged, making him roll his eyes.

"relax, they didn't see anything. now, let's continue where we left off." he settled you down, his dick slipping out of you as he turned you around. your tits were now pressed against the wall, his flushes body pressed against your back as you felt him grind his cock against your ass, a cheeky hand coming down to grope the supple fat before giving it a small slap.

"p-put it in." you whined, still a bit pissed off from getting cockblocked by his stupid team members.

sae chuckled at your impatience, but decided to not tease you on it. in one fluid motion, he thrusted his cock inside your wet hole.

"hnghh.. sae.." you moaned, feeling him fondling with your tits while pressing feather light kisses on the expanse of your shoulder. his thrusts were much more sharper and faster than before as he grew desperate to chase that feeling before you both got walked-in on.

your cunt was wet and dripping onto his shaft, the sheer length of his thick cock was gliding smoothly in and out of your warm walls. sae could feel you clamp down on him, hugging his dick as he continued to fuck you at a brutal pace.

"fuckkk, feels so good." he moaned next to your ear, his hand coming up to cup your face and tilt it back, leaning down to pull you into a sloppy kiss full of tongue and the clash of teeth.

his tip grazed your g-spot, making your knees tremble as you cried out in pleasure. your core tightened, feeling his cock twitching in your pussy, indicating that he was close.

"shit, gonna cum... you want that? want me to fill you up? stuff you to the brim and make you my bitch?" sae groaned, pressing ocassional kisses on the sides of your jaw.

"yes! yes! fuck, please, make me your bitch. cum inside of me!" you begged, face contorting in pleasure as you began to see white, eyes screwed shut as you panted.

you were so close, feeling like you were gonna burst. sae's free hand came down, rubbing your clit to add onto the stimulation, making you shake.

"cum for me, cariño." he whispered as he continued to fuck into you, the sound of wet skin slapping echoing throughout the showers. a guttural moan ripped out of your throat as you creamed all over his cock, drenching his shaft in your fluids before feeling him momentarily speed up his thrusts; sending you into overstimulation. a ring of white cream forming at the base of his dick.

"s-sae! too much, oh my-" you cried out, before feeling his warm and sticky cum coating your walls, fucking it deep inside you. the sensation alone was enough to make chills run down your spine. sae held you close, his grip on your firm and tight as he held you in place, sloppily and lazily shoving his cum deeper into your wet cunt.

"fuck... god damn, you're something." he panted, swallowing hard before pulling you into a soft kiss.

yeah, scoring that goal was definitely worth it.

---

after you both cleaned up and finished actually showering, you realized that all your shit was in the locker room designated for blue lock. you sighed in annoyance as you stepped out of the stall, body wrapped in a towel as sae was still naked with only a towel loosely wrapped around his waist.

"i'm so screwed. i don't even have my clothes to wear back outside." you grumbled, making him look in your direction.

"blue lock's locker room is right next door, just run there." sae suggested, making you roll your eyes.

"wow, thank you so much, genius. there's like cameras everywhere in the halls and my team members might still be there." you rolled your eyes, hearing him chuckle.

"yeah, then i guess you are screwed." he smirked, making you glare at him.

"and who's fault is that?"

"not mine."

"you pulled me in here and actually screwed me. now i'm double screwed, you horny fuck!"

"and? don't say you didn't want it as bad as i did."

"well at least i have self-control."

"right, says the one who was slobbing on my dick."

"sae!"

your face was now covered in a blush from his crude words, watching him dry his body before reaching for his clothes. you took this as an opportunity to slap his ass.

spank!

"did you just-" his jaw dropped, looking at you with wide eyes as you stood there giggling.

"serves you right." you stuck out your tongue and you saw his eyes darken as an evil smirk tugged on his lips.

"oh, so you wanna play like that, huh? seems like ten wasn't enough for you? c'mere." he began to walk closer to you, making your heart drop as you quickly clutched onto your towel and ran as fast as you could out of the locker room; faintly hearing his chuckle echoing behind you.

"fucking psycho." you breathed out in slight fear, the door slamming behind you as you walked towards blue lock's locker room. that was until-

"oh, y/n! what are you doing out here?" anri's voice rang clear in your head as she stepped out of blue lock's locker room. you began to panic, what the hell were you supposed to say?!

"o-oh, anri! what are you doing here?" you nervously laughed, making her cock an eyebrow.

"i was doing a final check and realized everyone else is on the bus except you. mind telling me what's going on?" she pointed her pen at your clearly naked form.

"o-oh, yeah, uhm. our locker room was full 'cause the guys were showering, so i decided to use u-20's since their team started loading their buses first and it was empty." you explained and just because god's timing had to be so precise; sae fucking walked out.

he noticed you getting interrogated, thinning his lips to prevent himself from laughing his ass of at you.

you noticed him from the corner of your vision, glaring at him as he snorted. anri saw him, the both of them doing a mutual bow before he left, looking back you with a smirk.

that fucking piece of sh-

"y/n?" anri called out again.

"h-huh?" you refocused yourself on her.

"then why are you still naked?" she asked.

"ah, right, i forgot to take my clothes with me." you tried to sound as convincing as possible.

"uh-huh. and i suppose those marks are from the game?" she smirked, pointing her pen at your chest and neck, heat rushing to your face.

"a-anri, i can explain! it's not what you think, i promise." you horribly lied, making her chuckle.

"right... anyways, go get changed and meet us on the bus. by the way, that was an amazing goal. blue lock couldn't have won without you. so, yeah, you deserved to treat yourself." anri winked at you, making you internally scream in embarrassment.

she was your manager for fucks sake!

"ahahah, right... i'm gonna go get dressed. see you in a bit." you quickly excused yourself to get dress.

fuck you, sae itoshi.

literally.

---

after returning back to the blue lock facility, you were drained both from the game earlier and your little session with the soccer prodigy. all the players were called in the conference hall as ego gave his motivational speeches along with announcing the international teams everyone will be assigned to.

"oh, shit. bastard munchen? that's in germany, no? pretty cool, isagi." you commented, making him chuckle.

"yeah, i'm so excited! noel noa is on that team, he's my favorite." isagi eagerly replied, making you smile.

you watched your name appear on the screen and right below you was bachira.

"oh, we're gonna be together, y/n! fc barcha in spain." bachira exclaimed as he high-fived you, happy to have a close friend go with him.

"spain? oh shit..." you gulped, realizing that you'll be seeing more than just one familiar face there.

meanwhile...

"sae! sit down, have some refreshments." sae's manager smiled, his voice dripping with money hunger as the auburn hair male rolled his eyes.

"i literally just got off my flight, i couldn't even take a fucking piss yet." he grumbled, sitting on the couch with his legs crossed. the poor auburn haired male was tired and it didn't help that he had to sit inbetween the most annoying fucking people ever to exist: sendo and aiku.

unfortunately, while you both were too busy in hornyland, it completely slipped out of both his and your mind that both his clothes and your clothes were scattered on the floor.

so, in short, yeah; they both knew you two were fucking in the showers.

"hey, since when did you wear baby blue laced panties under your uniform, little genius?"

"what?"

"your shit was all over the floor along with a pair of bra and panties, dumbass. you fucked that crazy chick from blue lock, didn't you?!"

"well, you know, your contract is expiring soon with new gen xl. you'll be renewing it, right?" the old man nervously laughed, making sae sigh.

"well, no shit. but you could've waited a few more days or something." sae snatched the paper from the table, clicking the pen and before signing, the old fat man said something that caught his ears.

"well, you know, you got an offer to play under fc barcha. they're adding members of blue lock in that team to prepare for the u-20 world cup." he informed, making sae look up in curiosity.

"blue lock members? do you know who?" sae asked, now wanting to know more.

"ah, well, i don't have the list on the top of my head. but, i know the girl that scored the winning goal for the last game is playing on the team. shit, sorry for bringing that up." the man apologized, realizing that the topic of losing might still be a small wound on the prodigy.

but, sae couldn't be bothered any less. a smirk ghosted on his lips as he threw his pen on the table.

"cancel it." sae declared, ripping the contract in his hand, making his manager's eyes widen.

"s-sae! what are you doing?!" the man panicked, not understanding where this sudden change in heart was coming from.

"i'm accepting the offer to play in fc barcha."

---

you were just about to get comfortable in your bed, though the annoying sound of nagi's snoring was ticking you off. nonetheless, your body was too tired and drained to pay too much mind to such small things.

that was until your phone buzzed.

"the fuck.." you huffed in annoyance, grabbing the device before unlocking it, seeing that it was a message from an unknown number. a gasp leaving your lips as your eyes widened when reading it.

unknown number: see you in fc barcha, cariño.

[seafarersdream]

Cregan x reader where the reader is betrothed to him but he gets close to Alysanne Blackwood and she feels insecure. But he then reassures her that he loves her. Could be fluff or smut, whatever you feel fits

Big Bad Wolf | 18+ (Cregan Stark x Y/N)

Y/N knows exactly why she has been sent to the frigid North: her grandsire, Otto Hightower, intends for her to secure Cregan Stark’s loyalty to the Greens with a proposed betrothal. A union that would bind the North to her family’s cause and strengthen her brother’s claim. She can’t help but wonder what he would sees in her—a willing pawn, a coveted prize, or perhaps, an unexpected adversary?

TW // Strong language and profanities, mild sexual content, mention of injuries and wounds, slow burn romance.

Note: I took a slightly different approach than originally requested to better align with my brainstorming ideas. I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! And fair warning—it ended up being around 10k words because I got carried away and so into it😂

The wind howls around her like a beast, its icy fingers clawing at her cloak, desperate to strip her bare. Y/N Targaryen pulls the fur-lined fabric tighter around her shoulders, her silver hair whipping against her face as she stares out into the endless expanse of white that is the North.

The cold is sharp, biting against her skin, a relentless assault unlike anything she has ever felt in King’s Landing. There, the sun always warmed the walls of the Red Keep, the gardens bloomed with vibrant flowers, and the salty sea breeze carried the smell of soils from distant lands. Here, in the North, all of that feels like a distant memory—a dream now buried under layers of snow.

She shivers, and not just from the cold.

Being a Targaryen means something. Being a Targaryen princess means the realm is her oyster. She has always known this. The daughter of the late King Viserys Targaryen and the sister to the current ruler, Y/N has never wanted for anything. Born under the banners of black and red, her birthright is as weighty as it is illustrious. In the courts of King's Landing, her name alone is a force that can command, bend, and break. The Valyrian blood coursing through her veins has bestowed upon her an otherworldly beauty—hair the colour of moonlight, eyes that burn like molten silver. She is used to men and women alike vying for her favor, hanging on her every word, their desires evident in their eyes. She is used to being adored, admired, even envied.

But here, in the North, none of that means a thing.

The North is a different world, an ancient one with a heartbeat of ice and snow. It is a world where the name Targaryen carries little weight, where dragons are the stuff of nightmares, not symbols of power and strength.

For thousands of years, the North stood as its own kingdom, ruled by House Stark of Winterfell—a house older than her own, as old as the First Men themselves. The North submitted to Aegon the Conqueror’s rule, but submission is not the same as surrender. She can feel the weight of that history in every flake of snow, every gust of wind that threatens to unseat her from the back of her horse. The North remembers.

And the North does not care for Targaryen princesses.

The men and women who stare at her from the edges of Winterfell’s courtyard do not see a daughter of kings. They see a southerner, a foreigner, an outsider draped in silk and furs too fine for their taste. They see someone who has never felt the bite of a northern winter, who does not understand the constant struggle for survival that defines their lives. To them, she is the very embodiment of everything they disdain—the soft courtly life, the excesses of the south, the endless games of backstabbing and ambition that mean nothing in the face of a harsh winter. Her beauty, her title, her blood—none of it matters here. She is a stranger in a strange land, and they watch her with eyes that are cold and calculating.

It is a stark contrast to the life she has known. In King’s Landing, courtiers flocked to her side, eager for a smile, a kind word, a glance that might change their fortunes. But here, no one bows or scrapes, no one offers her flattery or fawning attention. Instead, they glance at her with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity, their expressions as unreadable as the frozen ground beneath her feet. Even the cold here seems to seep into their bones, hardening their faces into masks of stone.

Her gaze shifts to the man standing at the center of it all—the Warden of the North, Cregan Stark. He is as unyielding as the walls of Winterfell, a man carved from the very ice that surrounds them. His dark hair is touched with frost, his grey eyes piercing through the flurries like a direwolf scanning the wood for prey. He regards her with a guarded expression, his features stoic, as though he is measuring the weight of her presence in his hall. There is strength in his stance, a raw, quiet power that seems to ripple beneath his skin like a river beneath ice.

She knows why she is here. Her grandsire, Otto Hightower, has sent her north with a proposal for a betrothal, hoping to secure Cregan Stark's allegiance to the Greens. A marriage alliance that would bind the North to her family, to her brother’s cause. But she also knows that such an alliance is easier proposed than accepted. The Starks are proud, stubborn as the wolves on their banners, and they are not easily swayed by promises or threats. She wonders what Cregan Stark sees when he looks at her—a pawn, a prize, a potential enemy?

Y/N squares her shoulders, forcing herself to meet his gaze with the same intensity. Her breath mists in the cold air between them, mingling with the snowflakes that drift down from the leaden sky. She is a Targaryen, born of fire and blood, and she will not be cowed by the cold.

She takes a step forward, her boots crunching in the snow, and inclines her head with a grace born of years at court. “Lord Stark,” she begins, her voice steady despite the chill that bites at her skin, “I bring greetings from my family and an offer that I hope will interest you.”

For a moment, there is silence, broken only by the distant howl of the wind. The Northmen are watching, waiting for their lord’s response. Cregan Stark’s grey eyes remain locked on hers, his expression unreadable, and she feels the weight of the North pressing down upon her.

“Princess,” Cregan replies at last, his voice a low rumble that echoes across the courtyard. “Welcome to Winterfell.”

And with those words, the game begins.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

Y/N Targaryen has always been more her grandsire’s granddaughter than her mother’s daughter—or her father’s, for that matter. Not that it has been much of a choice. King Viserys had been many things in his life—gentle, soft-hearted, more comfortable with scrolls and histories than with the complexities of ruling—but present, he was not. His love for Rhaenyra, his firstborn, was the love of a man whose affections had been spent long before Y/N was ever born. So, she learned quickly that if she wanted attention, guidance, or even a semblance of familial warmth, she would find none of it in her father.

Instead, she found herself drawn to Otto Hightower. He was a man of purpose, of ambition, of decisive action. With her mother’s soft words and frail smiles failing to shape her in any meaningful way, it was Otto who taught her the art of politics, of maneuvering through a court filled with predators. In him, she saw a mirror of her own aspirations—always looking forward, always plotting the next move. It was from him she learned that power is something you seize, not something you wait for. She knew he would never coddle her, never tell her she was beloved just for being herself; he only valued what was valuable, and that gave her a clarity she found comforting.

Her siblings, however, were a different matter entirely.

Aegon, her eldest brother, was a fool. Self-conscious, always craving their parents' love like a starving child reaching for a morsel of bread. For years, he had hoped to be the shining star in their father’s eyes, only to discover that no matter what he did, he would always be in the shadow of their half-sister, Rhaenyra—the daughter Viserys truly adored. That realization had driven Aegon to the brink. He had spiraled into self-destruction, numbing his pain with Arbor Red, drowning in the company of whores and sycophants who fed his illusions of being liked, respected even. She had watched him become a hollowed-out shell of a prince, playing at being a king among the rats and the vipers of the Red Keep. Aegon was a king now, a ruler in name, but he wore his crown like a noose.

Aemond, on the other hand, was a different creature. Where Aegon sought love, Aemond sought approval, validation—something to make the gods’ cruel joke of his birth order feel less like a curse. He set impossible standards for himself, always striving to outshine his elder brother, to rise above his station as the spare. He immersed himself in philosophy, warfare, Westerosi customs, determined to be the best in every field, the most learned, the most skilled. And yet, no matter how many strategies he mastered or how many books he consumed, he would always be the second son. Aemond may have won the favor of their grandsire, may have been admired by those who valued intellect and ruthlessness, but in the end, Aegon’s incompetence still carried the weight of the gods' favor. And that knowledge gnawed at Aemond like a wolf at a bone.

Helaena and Daeron, bless them, were different. Y/N could say nothing ill of those two. Helaena, with her strange, prophetic dreams and her love for insects, was perhaps the only light in their shadowed family. She lived in a world of her own, a world of strange riddles and hidden truths that no one else could see. Daeron, meanwhile, had been smart enough to remove himself from the poisonous atmosphere of the Red Keep, carving out a life for himself in Oldtown.

As for herself? Y/N had always considered herself a performer, a mirrorball reflecting the light of others, knowing exactly where to place her foot in every dance. She did not crave her parents’ approval or love; she never had. She knew her worth, not in how many times her father called her his precious daughter or how often her mother sighed with the weight of unspoken affection. No, her worth came from the power she had managed to accumulate on her own, the alliances she had forged, the influence she wielded like a blade. She had held her own court, commanded attention, respect, and fear. She had learned to survive, to thrive, to be more than just another pretty Targaryen face.

And now, she had none of it.

Here in this frozen wasteland, she was stripped bare of everything she had built. The North was a godforsaken, heretic country in her eyes—a land of rigid codes and old gods, where men did not bow easily, where words were weighed like precious stones, and secrets were buried beneath layers of ice and snow. She had no court, no power to wield, no influence to peddle.

And then, there was Cregan Stark.

A man whose reputation preceded him like a cold wind. Honorable, they said. A man of principle, a man who lived by his word, who believed in truth and duty as if they were his religion. There was no room for subterfuge in his life, no space for half-truths or hidden motives. His gaze was like steel, unbending and severe. It was almost appalling, really, how saintly he was. Mother above she thought more than once, he would be eaten alive in King’s Landing.

In the South, where smiles masked daggers and every word dripped with double meaning, a man like Cregan Stark would be a lamb led to slaughter. His sense of honor would be his undoing, his truthfulness a weapon turned against him. She had never met a man like him. A man who looked at her not with lust or ambition but with a quiet, steady gaze that seemed to see right through her. He seemed entirely unimpressed by her. It was infuriating and fascinating all at once.

Y/N squared her shoulders, determined not to let her irritation show. She would learn this place, learn its people, and most of all, she would learn Cregan Stark. She would find the crack in his armor, the flaw in his honor, the chink in his unyielding principles. Everyone had one; it was just a matter of knowing where to look, how to press, how to push. She was not here to be swallowed by the North—she was here to conquer it, one way or another.

She knew that the path to Lord Cregan Stark’s cold, cold heart was not a direct one. It was not a road paved with smiles or adorned with sweet words. It was a labyrinth, and the only way through it was by understanding his people.

She had watched him long enough to know this much: Cregan Stark was a man who put his people above all else. The North had a way of making even its leaders humble before it. They were not like the nobles of King’s Landing, always scheming for personal glory or clawing at each other’s throats for favor. Here, in this frozen hell, survival depended on something far simpler, far more primal—on loyalty, on unity, on trust.

So, she began to snake her way into the hearts of his people.

It started small, with gestures they would not expect from a southerner, least of all a Targaryen princess. She knew how they saw her—pampered, delicate, with hair too fair and hands too soft to have ever known true work. She could feel their eyes on her wherever she went, could hear the whispers as she passed by, wrapped in her fine furs, a dragon in the land of wolves.

The courtyard was busy that morning, the ground slick with melting snow and the air thick with the sounds of work—axes splitting wood, the clang of blacksmiths’ hammers against anvils, the shouts of men and women hauling barrels and crates. She approached the group of women gathered near the cookfires, a mixture of curiosity and skepticism in their gazes. Y/N took a deep breath, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders, and stepped into their midst.

“Is there something I can do?” she asked, her voice clear and carrying over the noise. A few heads turned, eyes narrowing in surprise. She saw a woman in her middle years, broad-shouldered and with arms like tree trunks, squinting at her as if she were a curious animal. The others paused, their hands stilling in their work, glances exchanged.

The woman, who she had come to learn was named Mildred, finally spoke, her tone rough as gravel. “Princess,” she drawled, dragging the word out like it was something distasteful in her mouth. “I don’t think there’s much here a royal lady can handle. Unless you’ve got a mind to ruin that fancy cloak of yours.”

Y/N smiled. “I’ve more cloaks, Mildred. And if it gets ruined, well, I suppose I’ll just have to make do with another one, won’t I?”

A snort came from somewhere in the back of the group, and Y/N’s eyes flicked to the source—a younger woman with a mess of red hair and a skeptical expression. Y/N kept her smile, but she let a hint of a challenge creep into her tone. “Besides, I’m not afraid of a little dirt.”

The women exchanged glances, weighing her words. Mildred shrugged at last, tossing a hunk of dough onto a wooden board. “Fine then. Let’s see how you fare kneading bread. Got to feed half the damned keep today, and we’re short on hands.”

Y/N stepped forward without hesitation, rolling up her sleeves. The cold bit at her exposed skin, but she ignored it. Her hands, unused to such labor, moved awkwardly at first, pressing into the dough with less confidence than she wanted. Mildred watched her, arms crossed. “Too gentle,” She grunted. “You’re not petting a dragon. Put your weight into it.”

Y/N did as instructed, leaning into the motion, feeling the resistance of the dough against her palms. It was a small thing, this task, but it was a start. She could feel their eyes on her, hear the whispers quieting, turning into something more like curiosity than derision.

Hours passed, and the smell of freshly baked bread filled the courtyard. The women began to loosen up around her, laughter breaking out now and then. She let herself laugh with them, leaning into their banter.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N made it her mission to weave herself into the fabric of Winterfell. She found her way to the blacksmith's forge, where the air was thick with smoke and the clang of metal. She watched as the smiths worked, their faces streaked with soot, and asked questions—many, many questions.

“Why do you use that angle with the hammer?” she asked one of the younger smiths, a boy not much older than.

The boy, startled at first, blinked at her, then answered, “To shape the steel, Princess. To make it stronger, to give it an edge that lasts.”

She nodded, watching his hands. “Show me,” she demanded. The boy hesitated, glancing around nervously, but she stepped forward. “Don’t worry. I can hold a hammer.”

He did as she asked, and soon enough, she was holding the hammer herself, mimicking his movements. Her strokes were clumsy, awkward at first, but she learned fast, and with every thud of the hammer, she felt the eyes of the smiths soften just a little more.

In the great hall, she would sit with the lords and their wives, listening to their woes, their concerns, their petty grievances. Y/N had a mind sharpened by the best—her grandsire, Otto, had seen to that. She listened carefully, offering her thoughts, her solutions, often to the surprise of those around her.

“The river’s dammed up, and it’s ruining the fields,” one lord grumbled, a beefy man with a thick beard.

"Then undam it," she replied, her tone smooth. "Divert it, instead of letting it run its course. Build channels to guide it where you want it to go."

The man blinked at her, surprised. “Aye, well… that could work.”

“It will work,” she replied, a small smile playing at her lips.

She advised them on how to better store grain, how to rotate their crops, and how to reinforce their defenses with minimal resources. She made suggestions that saved money, improved efficiency, and most importantly, earned her a grudging respect. To her, these Northerners were like sheep, clueless and slow-witted. But she smiled, she helped, she solved their problems. She was always in the middle of things, her presence a constant in the great hall, the courtyard, the kitchens, the stables.

She even joined the hunts. The Northmen had mocked her at first for daring to ride out with them. “A princess in the snow?” they laughed. “She’ll freeze before we see a single stag.” But she proved them wrong. Her dragon’s blood kept her warm, kept her defiant in the face of the bitter cold, and she was the first to draw her bow, the first to bring down a deer.

“By the gods, she’s got a steady hand,” one of the older men muttered to Cregan as they dragged the deer back to Winterfell.

Cregan’s gaze had flicked over to her, his expression as unreadable as ever, but there had been a flicker of something there. Amusement? Respect? She couldn’t tell, but it was enough.

Bit by bit, she felt the change. The Northmen, these stubborn, superstitious heretics, began to soften, to open up to her. They began to speak to her not with suspicion but with interest, their words less guarded, their gazes less cold. They valued her now, saw her as something more than just a prim and proper southerner.

It was at a feast that she noticed it—how the lords and ladies began to speak of her in hushed, respectful tones, how they sought her out for advice, for a kind word, for counsel. She saw how Cregan watched from across the hall, his grey eyes narrowing, the faintest flicker of something akin to admiration crossing his face.

She caught his gaze, held it across the room. He didn’t look away. Instead, he raised his cup to her, a silent acknowledgment. A challenge, perhaps.

Y/N raised hers in return, a smile playing at her lips. The North had begun to bend, and soon enough, so would he.

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One afternoon, Y/N had just returned from Winter Town, cheeks flushed from the biting wind and the smell of pine and smoke still clinging to her cloak. The snow had begun to fall heavier now, thick flakes drifting down like soft feathers, blanketing the world in a quiet that felt almost sacred. She pushed back her hood as she stepped into the warmth of the great hall, her eyes scanning the room out of habit, looking for something—anything—that could further her cause.

She spotted a cluster of handmaidens seated by the hearth, their heads bent in concentration. They were mending and embroidering clothing, fingers working deftly with needle and thread. Y/N noticed the familiar shapes taking form on the fabric—the direwolves.

She glided toward them, her steps light, her expression warm and inviting. She had perfected this look over years at court—the doe-eyed charm that could disarm even the most hardened of men. “Oh,” she said with a bright smile, her voice a melodic lilt, “working on the Stark sigil, are we?”

The handmaidens looked up, a bit startled at her approach. They were used to her presence by now, but not so much to her sudden interest in their needlework. A girl named Caragh, her brown hair tied back in a braid, nodded. “Aye, milady. Lord Cregan’s cloak was torn on the last hunt, and his tunic needs a new embroidery. Wolves, of course.”

Y/N tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with interest. “How lovely,” she murmured, kneeling down beside them. “May I see?”

They hesitated for a moment but eventually passed her the cloth, the direwolf stitched in silver-grey thread standing fierce against the dark fabric. She studied it with a discerning eye, her fingers tracing the lines of the stitches. The work was good, but plain—functional, as was the way of the North.

A smile danced on her lips as an idea took shape. “Do you know,” she began, her voice soft and conspiratorial, “I’ve always been rather good with a needle myself. Perhaps I could try my hand at it? Just a little, of course. I wouldn’t want to overstep.”

The women exchanged glances, unsure, but intrigued. “Princess, you’d do that?” asked Caragh, her tone curious. “We’d be honored to see southern stitchings. They’re said to be… well, far more intricate than ours.”

Y/N chuckled softly, the sound like a chime in the quiet hall. “Oh, we do have a flair for the elaborate, it’s true,” she agreed. “But I promise, I won’t change it too much. Just add a bit of finesse.” She reached for the thread, selecting a shade of grey that was just a touch darker than the one they had been using. “Here,” she said, threading her needle with practiced ease, “let me show you.”

She set to work, her hands moving with ease. Her stitches were tiny and precise, the needle dancing in and out of the fabric as if it were silk and not the heavy wool of the North. The handmaidens watched her, their eyes wide with fascination as she added delicate touches to the direwolf—tiny knots that gave the illusion of fur, subtle shadows that made the beast look as if it might leap from the cloth at any moment.

“How do you make it look so… alive?” one of the younger handmaidens breathed, her cheeks flushed with awe.

Y/N smiled, enjoying their attention. “It’s all in the details,” she said with a little wink. “You have to see the wolf in your mind first, imagine the way its fur moves, the way its muscles shift beneath the skin. Then, you just… follow the thread.”

The hours passed, and the handmaidens were more than happy to let her work, their questions and chatter filling the space around them. They asked her about King’s Landing, about the fashions of the court, about the kinds of silks and velvets they had only heard of in stories. She answered them with good humor, spinning tales of the South that made their eyes shine with wonder. And all the while, her needle moved, faster and faster, until the direwolf on the fabric seemed to almost snarl, its eyes fierce and intelligent, its body coiled as if ready to pounce.

By the time Cregan Stark returned from a hunt, the hall was warm with the crackle of the fire and the murmur of soft voices. He strode in, snow still dusting his dark hair, his cloak heavy with ice. His boots left wet prints on the stone floor as he shook the cold from his shoulders and glanced around.

He stopped short when he saw her—Y/N, seated among his handmaidens, needle in hand, a small, satisfied smile on her lips as she worked on his clothing. His eyes narrowed, and he made his way over, curious despite himself.

“Princess,” he greeted her, his voice a low rumble, “I see you’ve taken to mending clothes now?”

Y/N looked up, her expression unruffled. “Lord Stark,” she replied, her tone light, teasing almost, “I thought I might be of some use. Your handmaidens were kind enough to let me practice a little of our southern needlework.” She held up the fabric for him to see, the direwolf now a striking, almost lifelike creature that seemed to leap from the fabric with a ferocity that had not been there before.

Cregan’s eyes widened, just slightly, his gaze moving over the stitching, his expression unreadable. “It’s… well done,” he said finally, and she could hear the surprise in his voice, grudging though it was.

She smiled, pleased. “You sound surprised, my lord. Did you think a Targaryen’s hands were only meant for taming dragons or holding goblets of wine?”

He let out a soft chuckle, the sound like gravel grinding together. “Not surprised,” he corrected, his gaze meeting hers, steady and unyielding. “Impressed. You’ve a fine hand.”

Y/N's smile widened. “Why, thank you, Lord Stark. I’m glad my work meets your approval.”

He nodded, his gaze still on the cloth, the direwolf that now seemed to pulse with life. “Aye, it does,” he admitted. “Though I wonder, Princess… are you looking to become a seamstress now?”

She laughed, a bright, ringing sound that filled the hall. “No, my lord. I’ve no desire to take up a needle permanently. But I do find it’s useful, from time to time, to show that a princess’s hands can be skilled in more ways than one.”

His eyes flicked up to hers, a challenge in them. “Is that so?” he asked quietly. “And tell me, Princess, what other skills do your hands possess?”

Y/N’s smile did not waver. “Oh, many things, Lord Stark,” she replied softly. “Many things indeed.”

He held her gaze for a moment longer, something unreadable flickering in the depths of his eyes, before he nodded again. “Well,” he said, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

And with that, he turned away, but not before she caught the slightest curve of a smile on his lips. She watched him go, feeling a thrill of satisfaction course through her veins.

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Her scheme had worked flawlessly. Piece by piece, the North was falling into place just as she’d planned. The people were warming to her, Cregan's gaze was lingering a little longer than before, and Y/N could feel the iciness of Winterfell slowly starting to melt in her favor. Everything was moving toward the outcome she desired.

Well until it wasn't.

The disruption arrived in the form of Alysanne Blackwood—Black Aly, they called her. Y/N watched her ride into Winterfell with a certain swagger, a confidence that bordered on arrogance. A member of House Blackwood, the aunt of young Lord Benjicot Blackwood, Alysanne had come north under some pretense Y/N didn't care to know about. At the time, it had seemed inconsequential. She had dismissed it, too caught up in her own plans to pay attention to this new player on the board.

A mistake. A rare, foolish mistake. Her grandsire would have scolded her for being so pliant, so hasty, so unguarded. Never underestimate a rival, he would have said. Never take your eyes off the board. And Y/N had done just that.

She should not have misconstrued this woman.

Alysanne was everything Y/N was not. Tall and lean, with thick black curls that tumbled past her waist, she had a wildness to her that seemed to embody the very spirit of the North. Her long legs and strong arms marked her as a woman who spent more time in the saddle than at a hearth, more time holding a bow than a needle. She wasn’t beautiful in the conventional sense—her features were sharp, her smile wide and often mocking—but there was something about her. Something raw and fearless, a fire that seemed to burn just beneath her skin. And that smell…woodsmoke. It clung to her like a second skin, as if she had been born in the midst of a bonfire.

Y/N had heard the whispers—how Black Aly was a legend in the North. An excellent hunter, a horse-breaker, an archer with a keen eye. She was bold and outspoken, with a tongue sharp enough to cut through steel and a wit that could match the sharpest of minds. The Northerners adored her. They loved her for her wildness, for her lack of pretense, for the way she embodied everything they valued: strength, courage, a disregard for the fripperies of southern court life.

She could see it in their faces as Alysanne moved among them, laughing and jesting with the men, sharing bread and soup with the women. Y/N could almost feel the tides shifting, the winds changing, as this woman—this picture-perfect embodiment of Northern virtues—threatened to ruin everything she had worked for.

Cregan Stark took to Alysanne immediately. Of course, he did. Why wouldn’t he? He took her hunting, riding out into the forest with her at dawn while Y/N was left behind to smile and make small talk with his bannermen. He brought her to his war councils, included her in his patrols, took her to meet the northern lords. Wherever he went, Black Aly was at his side, her sharp, barking laughter echoing off the walls of Winterfell.

Y/N could see it in the way he looked at Alysanne—a gleam of admiration, of respect, of something deeper, something raw. He valued her opinions, sought her counsel. And that stung more than Y/N cared to admit. Did it truly come down to this? Y/N Targaryen, a princess of the realm, having to compete with some backwater nobody?

She could feel her temper simmering beneath her skin like a slow-burning fire, the frustration building with each passing day. She thought of confronting Cregan directly, her hands curling into fists as she imagined the scene. She would demand to know why he spent so much time with that woman, why he found her so intriguing, so worthy of his attention. But no—she knew better than that. She couldn’t afford to appear desperate, to show him how much this rankled her. Instead, she kept her face a mask of calm, her smiles as practiced and serene as ever, even as she felt herself cracking.

One evening, as Cregan returned from yet another outing with Alysanne, Y/N was waiting for him in the hall, her posture regal, her eyes gleaming in the dim firelight. “Lord Stark,” she called out, her tone light but firm. “You’ve been busy.”

Cregan paused, glancing at her, his expression unreadable. “There is much to do, Princess,” he replied evenly. “The North doesn’t rest.”

She offered him a smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “So I see. And it seems you have found quite the companion to help you with your duties.”

Cregan’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t rise to the bait. “Alysanne is a trusted friend,” he said. “She knows these lands as well as I do.”

Y/N felt a flicker of irritation but kept her voice smooth. “Of course. She is a fine… huntress. But surely, you don’t need her for every task, my lord. I’m certain there are others who could serve just as well. Perhaps even better.”

He regarded her for a long moment, his grey eyes searching her face. “Are you offering to join me on my next patrol, Princess?” he asked, his tone challenging, with the faintest hint of amusement.

Y/N’s smile didn’t falter, but inside, she felt a surge of frustration. “If you think my skills would be of use,” she replied, matching his tone. “I am, after all, more than just a… court ornament.”

He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made her skin prickle. “I’ve never doubted that,” he said softly. “But the North is not a place for games or tricks. It demands strength and a willingness to face the unknown without fear.”

Her smile wavered, just a little. “I am not afraid of the unknown,” she replied, her voice edged with steel. “Nor am I afraid to prove myself.”

Cregan’s eyes softened, just for a moment. “I don’t doubt that,” he said, his voice lowering, more intimate. “But Alysanne… she knows this land, these people. She knows how to speak to them, how to move among them. That is not something you can learn in a few weeks.”

Y/N felt the sting of his words, but she masked it with another smile, her eyes flashing. “Perhaps,” she conceded, “but I have learned much in a short time. And I am still learning, Lord Stark. Every day.”

Cregan nodded, as if considering her words. “Then learn, Princess,” he said quietly. “But do not think you must compete with Alysanne. She is… unique, yes. But so are you.”

The words were meant to placate, to soothe, but they only made her feel more cornered.

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The doors to the great hall swung open with a loud creak, and a chill wind swept in, carrying with it the scent of snow and iron. Y/N turned, her eyes narrowing as she saw the commotion. Cregan Stark had returned, his presence commanding attention even as he limped slightly, his dark hair damp with sweat, his face streaked with mud and blood. His men flanked him, some of them leaning on one another, their expressions grim, their clothes stained with the same mixture of dirt and crimson.

Her heart lurched at the sight, but she quickly schooled her features into a mask of cool indifference. The skirmishes with the wildlings had been growing more frequent, their raids bolder, and it seemed today had been no different. The maesters were already scrambling, rushing forward with their apprentices and assistants, trying to assess the most grievous injuries, their faces set in strained concentration.

Y/N took in the scene with a practiced eye, her mind already calculating. There were too many injured, too much blood soaking into the stone floor of the hall. She could see that the maesters were stretched thin, their resources and patience fraying at the edges. Cregan, of course, was insisting on helping his men, despite the fact that he was clearly favoring his left leg, a nasty gash visible on his right thigh, and his arm hung a little too limply at his side.

Typical. The man was as stubborn as a mule.

She moved closer, catching sight of the way he clenched his jaw against the pain, his brow furrowed in a way that made him look older, wearier. He was trying to wave off a young apprentice who was attempting to guide him toward a bench.

“I’m fine,” he growled, his voice low and rough. “See to the others first.”

The apprentice looked helplessly at Cregan, clearly torn between obeying the Warden of the North and following the orders of the maesters. Y/N, sensing an opportunity, pushed through the crowd, her chin tilted upward, her eyes sharp.

“Really, Lord Stark?” she called out, her voice loud enough to carry over the clamor. “You look about as fine as a roast pig on a spit.”

Cregan’s head snapped around, his eyes narrowing at her. “Princess,” he said, his voice edged with irritation, “this is no place for jesting.”

She smiled, a sharp, knowing smile. “No, but it is a place for common sense. Something you seem to be sorely lacking at the moment.” She turned to the apprentice and gestured toward the other men. “Go. Help the others. I’ll take care of your lord.”

The apprentice hesitated for a moment, glancing between them, but then scurried off, clearly relieved to be free of Cregan’s stubbornness. Y/N stepped closer, folding her arms over her chest, her gaze fixed on the injured lord.

Cregan grunted, his expression darkening. “I don’t need your help, Princess. I’ve had worse than this.”

“Oh, I’m sure you have,” she replied. “But forgive me if I don’t trust your judgment on your own health, seeing as you’re bleeding all over the floor and insisting you’re perfectly fine. Very lordly of you, I’m sure, but also incredibly stupid.”

He scowled at her, a deep line forming between his brows. “I can take care of myself.”

“And yet,” she countered, stepping even closer, “you’re not doing a very good job of it, are you? Sit down, Cregan, before you fall down and make an even bigger fool of yourself.”

For a moment, he looked like he might argue further, but then he winced, a flash of pain crossing his face, and Y/N seized the moment. She reached out, gripping his uninjured arm with a strength that belied her slender frame, and guided him toward a nearby bench. “Sit,” she ordered, her voice firm, and to her surprise, he obeyed, albeit reluctantly.

He dropped onto the bench with a huff, glaring up at her. “I don’t need a nursemaid, least of all a princess from the South who’s never seen a real fight.”

She laughed, a sharp, sarcastic sound. “You’re right, I’ve never fought wildlings or raiders. But I have spent plenty of time in the Red Keep watching men bleed out because they were too stubborn to accept help. So, unless you want to be one of those men, shut up and let me work.”

His gaze flickered with something between annoyance and grudging respect. “Fine,” he muttered, “but make it quick. I have men to see to.”

“Quick?” She snorted. “You don’t give orders here, Stark. Not while you’re under my care.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Your care? And what makes you think you’re qualified?”

She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she grabbed a nearby cloth, soaked it in a basin of water, and began to clean the wound on his thigh with swift, precise movements. Cregan hissed through his teeth, his muscles tensing beneath her hands, but he didn’t pull away.

“I’ve shadowed Grand Maester Orwyle countless times,” she said as she worked, her voice steady. “I know what I’m doing. And more importantly, I’m not about to let you bleed out just because you’re too pigheaded to admit you need help.”

He grunted again but said nothing, his jaw clenched tight. She could see the pain in his eyes, the way his shoulders stiffened with each touch, but he stayed still, letting her do her work. She carefully cleaned the wound, her hands moving with a skill that surprised even herself, then reached for a needle and thread.

“This will hurt,” she warned, threading the needle with practiced ease.

“I’ve had worse,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“Of course you have,” she said, rolling her eyes. “And I’m sure you’ll tell me all about it after I’ve saved your life.”

His lips twitched, almost as if he were fighting a smile. “You’ve a sharp tongue, Princess.”

“And you’ve a thick skull, Lord Stark,” she shot back. “Now hold still.”

She began to stitch the wound, her needle moving with swift, precise strokes. Cregan watched her, his eyes dark and intense, but she didn’t falter. For once, she was not the southern courtier, the diplomatic princess with honeyed words and gentle smiles. She was herself, sharp and unyielding, meeting his stubbornness with her own.

When she finished, she tied off the thread with a quick, efficient knot and sat back, wiping her hands on the cloth. “There,” she said, satisfaction in her voice. “You’ll live to fight another day.”

He stared at her, a mix of surprise and grudging admiration in his eyes. “You did well,” he said finally, his voice softer than before.

She arched an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. “Was there ever any doubt?”

He chuckled, the sound rough but genuine. “Plenty,” he admitted.

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Winter is coming.

No, not the Stark words, spoken like a prayer or a warning. Winter is truly coming, and Y/N can feel it deep in her bones, creeping through the stone walls of Winterfell like a living thing.

The air has grown sharper, biting at her cheeks with every gust of wind, and the snow falls thicker now, each flake heavy and deliberate. The trees are bare, their branches skeletal against the grey sky, and the cold seems to press down on her, seeping into her skin with a relentless chill. It is a different kind of cold than she has ever known, a cold that seeps into her lungs and settles there, making each breath feel like an effort.

The North has always been harsh, but now it feels like it is preparing for something more—something darker, more unforgiving. Even the men and women of Winterfell, who have spent their entire lives in the shadow of winter, seem more guarded, more wary. There are murmurs in the great hall, anxious whispers in the corridors. Wildlings have been sighted more frequently, their numbers growing bolder and more desperate as the long night approaches. The skirmishes along the Wall have increased, and the night fires are lit earlier and burn longer.

Y/N pulls her cloak tighter around her shoulders as she crosses the courtyard, the snow crunching beneath her boots. She knows what is coming. She can feel it in the very marrow of her bones. Winter is coming, and with it, something more—a tension that hangs in the air like a drawn bowstring, taut and ready to snap.

That night, as she sits by the fire in her chambers, a raven arrives. The black bird flutters through the window, its wings dusted with snow, a rolled parchment tied to its leg. Y/N takes it with a frown, untying the message with cold fingers, her eyes narrowing as she recognizes the seal. Hightower.

She unfurls the parchment and reads the message, her eyes scanning the words with a growing sense of unease.

Return to King’s Landing at once.

The words are simple, direct, and she can almost hear Otto’s voice behind them, calm but commanding. He has received reports of the incoming long winter, of the increasing sightings of wildlings, and he deems it no longer safe for her to remain in the North. He urges her to leave before the roads become impassable, before the snows deepen and the wildlings grow more desperate.

Y/N exhales slowly, a plume of breath escaping her lips in the cold air of her chamber. She should feel relieved. Glad, even. No longer required to linger in this frozen wasteland, where the people are as hard as the ground they walk on, and her plans have slowly unraveled like thread from a worn tapestry. She should be glad to return to the South, to the warmth and intrigue of King’s Landing, where the games are played on her terms.

But instead, she feels a sharp sting of frustration. She berates herself for failing to secure the North for her family, for not weaving a strong enough web to catch the loyalty of these proud, stubborn people. A true Targaryen, she should have bent them to her will, but the North is as unyielding as its lord, and she has not succeeded in making it hers. It is a bitter pill to swallow.

“Failure,” she murmurs, her voice a low hiss in the dim light of her chamber. “And what would you say to that, Lord Hand? That your granddaughter, for all her cleverness, could not win the North?”

She lets out a soft, mirthless laugh, crumpling the parchment in her hand. “It’s a matter for another day,” she tells herself. She will return to King's Landing, regroup, plot anew. There are always other pieces to play, other moves to make.

Yet, her thoughts drift back to Cregan Stark. The brooding wolf of the North, with his grim expression and unyielding sense of honor. She won’t admit, even to herself, that she is fond of him. Or likes him. Or anything of the sort. No, certainly not. But… there is something about him that lingers in her mind like a half-remembered dream, something she can’t quite shake off.

After being surrounded by the snakes of King’s Landing, the liars and flatterers, the power-hungry and the depraved, she finds something strangely compelling in Cregan Stark’s righteousness. It comes to him as naturally as breathing, as naturally as wielding that massive Valyrian steel sword of his, the one he calls Ice.

She has seen him wield it with ease, watched him cleave through the air with a power that seems almost otherworldly. She has watched him ride out with his men, fearless and unyielding, his face set in determination. There is a strength in him that is not just physical, but something deeper, something that runs to his very core. A strength that does not waver, that does not bend, even under the weight of the North’s endless cold.

And she hates it. She hates how it seems to make everything about him… uncomplicated. How he carries his honor like a shield, how he speaks his truth without hesitation, without guile, as if the very concept of deception is foreign to him. It is infuriating. It is intriguing. And it has left a mark on her, whether she likes it or not.

Y/N folds the letter and tucks it into the folds of her gown, her fingers lingering on the soft fabric for a moment longer than necessary. She knows what she must do; her place is back in the South. But as she rises to her feet, her eyes drift around her room, taking in the rough-hewn walls, the cold stone floor, and the fur pelts draped across her bed. There is a part of her—small, quiet, but undeniably present—that resents leaving this place. Resents leaving him behind.

She sighs, pushing the thought away, and begins to gather what little she had brought with her. No handmaiden to help her, not that she would ask. She has always preferred to do things herself when it comes down to it. She moves about the room with a swift efficiency, her hands quick and sure as she folds her scarves, places them neatly in her travel bag.

She is in the midst of folding a deep green scarf, the color of pine needles, when a knock sounds at her door. She freezes, her fingers still gripping the fabric, and for a moment, she considers ignoring it. But then she rolls her eyes at her own hesitation and strides to the door, swinging it open.

Cregan Stark stands on the other side, looking as rugged and battered as ever. There is a bandage wrapped around his arm, another at his side, but he stands tall, his posture straight, his face unreadable. He looks better than he had when she had tended to him earlier, but not by much. His grey eyes flick to her, and she can’t quite read the expression in them.

“Lord Stark,” she greets, her voice carefully neutral. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He inclines his head slightly. “I came to thank you,” he says, his voice low and gruff. “For earlier. For tending to my wounds.”

She raises an eyebrow, surprised. “Oh? Didn’t think you’d bother with gratitude.”

He snorts softly. “I’m not so stubborn as to ignore a kindness when it’s given.”

“A kindness?” She smirks, leaning against the doorframe. “I think you’ll find I had very little kindness in mind when I forced you to sit down.”

His lips twitch, just slightly. “Perhaps not,” he concedes. “But you did help. I owe you that much.”

Her gaze softens, just for a moment, but before she can reply, his eyes shift past her, taking in the half-packed bags and scattered belongings strewn across the room. His brows knit together in a frown.

“What is this?” he asks, his tone sharper than before.

Y/N shrugs, affecting a nonchalant air. “I’m going home,” she replies, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “A happy bit of news for you, I’d wager.”

He is silent for a moment, his frown deepening, his eyes fixed on hers. “No,” he says finally, his voice low and steady. “I take no joy in this news.”

She blinks, momentarily caught off guard. “No? I thought you’d be delighted to see the back of me.”

His expression softens, and he steps further into the room, his gaze never leaving hers. “Believe it or not, Princess, I’ve grown accustomed to your… presence.”

Her eyes narrow. “What are you on about?” she demands, her voice sharper now, a hint of frustration creeping in. “Don’t tell me you’ve developed a fondness for me, Cregan Stark.”

He hesitates, then, with a sigh, says, “Perhaps. Or maybe I’ve simply developed a soft spot for your relentless stubbornness.”

She scoffs, folding her arms over her chest. “Oh, do spare me,” she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “The Wolf of the North with a soft spot for a Targaryen? Is that supposed to flatter me?”

He gives a half-smile, his eyes holding hers. “It’s not meant to flatter, just the truth.”

She rolls her eyes, exasperated. “Right. And I suppose this has nothing to do with your other northern… interests?” She tilts her head, her voice laced with mock sweetness. “Surely, Black Aly is more up your alley?”

His face hardens slightly, but there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Alysanne is a friend,” he replies, his voice calm. “A trusted one. But you—”

“But me?” she interrupts, stepping closer, her eyes blazing. “But what, Cregan? Do you think I’m going to stay here in this frozen wasteland to be your latest curiosity?”

He shakes his head, his voice rising just a fraction. “No, that’s not what I meant—”

“Then what did you mean?” she snaps. “Because I have no desire to dance around whatever it is you’re trying to say.”

He exhales, frustration lining his features, but there’s something softer there, too. “I meant,” he says slowly, deliberately, “that I have come to respect you, Y/N. To… care for you, in ways I did not expect.”

She laughs, sharp and incredulous. “Care for me? Truly? You’ve a strange way of showing it, taking Black Aly on all your little adventures while I’m stuck here playing house with your bannermen.”

Cregan’s eyes darken, his expression turning serious. “It wasn’t meant to slight you.”

“But it did,” she fires back, her voice lower, more intense. “It did. And now, you stand here, acting like you don’t want me to leave, when all you’ve done is—”

“I don’t want you to leave,” he cuts her off, his voice firm, his gaze unyielding. “Not now. Not like this.”

There is a beat of silence, the air between them taut and electric. Y/N feels something twist inside her, something she doesn’t want to name.

“Why?” she finally asks, her voice almost a whisper. “Why, Cregan?”

He takes a step closer, so close she can feel the warmth of his breath against her skin. “Because,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “for all your southern games and sharp words… you’ve gotten under my skin, Y/N Targaryen.”

She meets his gaze, searching his face for any hint of a lie, any trace of deception, but finds none. She swallows, her throat tight. “And what do you suggest I do about that?” she asks, her tone still edged, but softer now.

He glances around the room at her half-packed bags, and then, with a determined expression, begins to pick up her things, placing them back where they were. “For a start,” he says, his voice gruff but not unkind, “you can stop packing.”

She watches, incredulous, as he calmly folds one of her scarves and places it back on the table. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demands, even as a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

He looks up at her, his eyes twinkling with a challenge. “Undoing a mistake,” he replies simply.

She shakes her head, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “You’re very difficult, you know that?”

He grins, the lines around his eyes crinkling. “So I’ve been told.”

They stand there, close enough to touch, the tension between them crackling like a fire waiting to ignite. For a moment, neither of them speaks. The air between them is thick, charged with something that neither of them can quite name. She lets out a sigh, breaking the silence that has settled over them.

“My grandsire has called for me,” she says finally, her voice softer than before. “It’s more of a command, really, than a request.”

Cregan’s brow furrows, his grey eyes narrowing slightly. “Is Otto Hightower the King of the Seven Kingdoms now?” he asks, his tone dry, laced with a hint of disdain.

Y/N chuckles, a low, throaty sound that sends a shiver through him. “He might as well be,” she replies, a faint smile playing on her lips. “He certainly acts like it.”

“Seems he’s got a hold on you too,” Cregan mutters, his gaze never leaving hers.

She shrugs, a half-smirk curving her lips. “I wouldn’t survive a winter here, would I? You said so yourself, Lord Stark. Even Vermithor and Silverwing refused to fly beyond the Wall of their own accord. Those ancient, powerful creatures wouldn’t dare. So whatever lies out there…” Her voice drops to a whisper. “It must be damning.”

Cregan’s expression is unreadable, his jaw tightening for a moment. “I can keep you safe,” he says quietly, but there’s a firmness to his voice, an unyielding resolve that makes her chest tighten.

Y/N raises an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Oh, how kind of you, my big, bad wolf,” she drawls, her tone mocking but playful, her fingers reaching out to brush lightly against his arm. “But how about you start with something simple?”

His eyes narrow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face. “Simple?” he repeats.

She steps closer, so close that her breath mingles with his, the warmth of her skin brushing against him. “How about, for starters, you try keeping me warm?” she murmurs, her voice barely more than a whisper, yet it carries between them like a challenge. “It is awfully freezing here… Can you do that for me, Lord Stark?”

For a moment, Cregan says nothing. His eyes search hers, as if trying to discern whether she’s serious, or just toying with him as she so often does. Y/N isn’t expecting much—she knows the Northerners, with their prudish notions of honor and virtue, probably see this as a surefire way to eternal damnation. She expects him to laugh it off, to turn away with a huff, to remind her, once again, that he is not some Southern lord to be trifled with.

But he doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t turn away. Instead, his gaze darkens, his eyes tracing the curve of her lips, the line of her throat. He takes a step closer, his body towering over hers, and she feels the heat radiating from him, the intensity in his stare. Her breath catches in her throat, her heart thundering in her chest as he reaches out, his hand cupping her chin, tilting her face up toward him.

“Is that what you want?” he murmurs, his voice a low, rumbling growl that sends a thrill down her spine. “For me to keep you warm?”

Y/N swallows, her mouth suddenly dry. She hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected the Wolf of the North to respond to her challenge with anything but stern disapproval. “I—” she starts, but the words catch in her throat as his thumb brushes over her lower lip, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her.

He leans in, his breath warm against her skin, and she feels the heat of his body pressing against hers, the rough fabric of his tunic brushing against the softness of her gown. “Say it,” he murmurs, his voice rough, almost desperate. “Say what you want, Y/N.”

Her heart pounds, and she feels a rush of something she can’t quite name—fear, desire, defiance—all mingling together in her chest. “I want…” she begins, her voice wavering, but then she catches herself, lifts her chin, her eyes flashing. “I want you to keep me warm, Cregan Stark.”

His lips curve into a slow, dangerous smile, and before she can draw another breath, his mouth is on her throat, hot and insistent. She gasps, her hands instinctively flying to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his tunic as he kisses her skin, his mouth trailing down to the hollow of her collarbone, his teeth grazing against her pulse.

“Gods,” she breathes, a mixture of surprise and pleasure washing over her. She hadn’t expected this—not from him. But he is relentless, his mouth moving against her skin, his teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh, his tongue tracing patterns that make her shiver. He smells of the woods and leather, of smoke and something wilder, something purely him, and it makes her head spin.

She feels a hot rush of sensation flood her body, a fire igniting deep within her belly as he kisses and nibbles at her neck, her collarbones, his hands sliding up her back to pull her closer. “I didn’t think you had it in you,” she gasps, her fingers threading through his hair, tugging just a bit.

He chuckles against her skin, the sound vibrating through her, and she can feel his grin. “I am good at playing my part too, Princess,” he mutters, his voice rough, raw with hunger.

She arches against him, feeling the warmth of his breath, the roughness of his beard against her skin, and something inside her snaps. She doesn’t care about the cold, or the North, or even the damned wildlings anymore. She only cares about the way his mouth feels on her, the way his hands move against her, the way he’s suddenly, inexplicably, decided to abandon his precious restraint.

“Oh, so you’re not a prude after all?” she teases, her voice a breathless whisper, but there’s a tremor in it she can’t quite control.

He bites down gently on her shoulder, making her gasp, and she feels him smile against her skin. “Careful now,” he growls softly, his lips trailing up to her ear. “You might just find out how much I’m not.”

She laughs, a low, sultry sound that makes his grip tighten. “Well then, Lord Stark,” she murmurs, her voice daring. “Show me.”

And he does. All night long.

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The next morning, chaos erupted in Winterfell. The dawn broke over the snow-covered battlements, but there was no sign of the Lord of Winterfell. Cregan’s chamber was found empty, his bed undisturbed, and his bannermen immediately feared the worst. The cold winds carried whispers of possible attacks, of kidnappings, of wildlings breaching the walls in the dead of night.

“Where is he?” one of the lords muttered, his voice tight with worry. “I saw him head to his chamber last night. He should be there!”

“But he’s not,” another snapped, his face pale. “And there’s no sign of a struggle. Nothing.”

Maids and guards exchanged nervous glances, and the tension in the great hall thickened like smoke. Servants hurried through the corridors, peering into every nook and cranny, while a group of bannermen began to search the grounds, checking the stables, the armory, anywhere he might have gone.

The panic spread quickly, growing like wildfire. Hushed voices turned into frantic shouts, and soon enough, a full search was underway. Every room, every corridor, every shadowed corner was combed through with increasing urgency.

“Maybe he’s gone to the Godswood?” one bannerman suggested, and a group ran in that direction, boots crunching against the snow.

“What if he’s been taken?” another whispered fearfully. “The wildlings—”

“No, he’d never be taken without a fight!” a grizzled old warrior barked, his hand tightening on his sword hilt. “Keep looking!”

And so they did, their desperation growing as each minute passed without a trace of their lord.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, one of the servants hesitantly approached the door to Y/N’s chamber. He hesitated, his hand hovering over the handle as if unsure whether he should dare to disturb a Targaryen princess. But with his heart pounding and knowing that all of Winterfell was searching, he pushed the door open.

There, in the soft light of dawn that filtered through the small window, they found him.

Cregan Stark lay sprawled across the bed, still deep in sleep, his dark hair tousled, a faint smile playing on his lips. His arm was wrapped tightly around Y/N Targaryen, holding her close against him as if she were the most precious thing in the world. They were entangled in the furs, his body curved protectively around hers, their legs entwined, her head resting on his chest.

For a moment, the servant could only gape, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. Then, finding his voice, he croaked out, “Lord Stark!”

Cregan stirred, groaning softly, his eyes blinking open in the dim light. He looked down to see Y/N still nestled against him, her silver hair a soft halo on his chest. For a brief, confused moment, he forgot where he was, why there were voices at the door.

Then he heard the shocked gasp of the servant, and it all came rushing back.

“What’s the meaning of this?” a bannerman’s voice boomed from behind the servant, and within seconds, the doorway filled with faces, wide-eyed and bewildered.

Cregan rubbed his eyes, sitting up slowly, his hand still cradling Y/N. He glanced over at the doorway and saw the crowd of his bannermen and servants, their expressions ranging from horrified to amused to utterly scandalized.

“Well, it seems I’ve been found,” he muttered, a grin spreading across his face as he looked down at her, still half-asleep beside him. “So much for a quiet morning.”

Y/N stirred, blinking up at him, and then she saw the small crowd gathered in the doorway. Her cheeks flushed, but her lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Good morrow, gentlemen,” she purred, propping herself up on her elbow. “Is there something you’re looking for?”

The bannermen stood frozen for a moment, then the old warrior who’d been leading the search cleared his throat, his cheeks flushed red. “Lord Stark, we thought… well, we feared the worst.”

Cregan’s smile widened, his hand brushing a strand of silver hair from Y/N’s face. “No need for fear, Wylis,” he replied, his tone far too amused. “As you can see, I’m very much alive. Just… occupied.”

The servant who had found them couldn’t suppress a grin, though he quickly ducked his head to hide it. The bannermen, on the other hand, exchanged awkward glances, shifting their weight, unsure of what to say.

Y/N looked up at Cregan, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Seems you’ve caused quite the stir, my lord,” she murmured, teasingly. “Should I be worried that your men are so eager to find you?”

Cregan chuckled, pulling her closer, ignoring the gaping faces in the doorway. “Let them talk,” he murmured, his voice low and affectionate. “I have everything I want right here.”

And as the bannermen mumbled and fidgeted, trying to find a way to excuse themselves from the room without causing further embarrassment, Cregan leaned down to kiss her forehead, his smile never fading. “Let them see,” he whispered. “Let them know.”

Y/N laughed softly, rolling her eyes. “As you wish, wolf.”

And with that, he pulled her back into the warm cocoon of furs, ignoring the murmurs from the doorway, perfectly content to remain exactly where he was.

[androgynealienfemme]

"We go from store to store, trying to things on and inspecting them. I give my opinions on dresses and shoes, blouses and lipstick colors. Sometimes I say things that make the other women look at me, agape, as though my mouth has been possessed by that flighty queen from Queer Eye even while the rest of my body still looks like any other big dumb boy's. I say that I like a skirt but I wish it were bias-cut instead of A-line, or that I am not fond of the fashion for surplice tops, or that the post-WWII idiom in shoes this season is amusing but rarely looks good on actual feet, or that I like the look of a bolero jacket. I know the names of colors, heliotrope and coral and Nile blue, and I can say without hesitation whether a lipstick might look better matte with a bit of powder.

These other women look at me with wonder, their boyfriends and husbands having made a fetish out of refusing to learn such words under any circumstances, as though merely pronouncing the word "periwinkle" or "princess seam" could easily turn a strong man gay as a box of birds. They say to her, "That's your husband?" in voices that loiter between admiring and disgusted, as though they know that there's no force on earth that could make their men or boys take such interest in their clothing and they think they might really prefer that to the spectacle of me, filling an armchair, legs crossed ankle over knee, looking just right until I say "tea length."

The point is that she wants other girls to see what it looks like to have a boy so cracy in love with you, as I am, that he will spend an afternoon talking about capri pants to have a boy so delighted by you that he never calls you by your name, but addresses you always as "beautiful girl," or "my love" or occasionally and with great fondness, "boss." To have a boy who will happily fetch your next-size-down and carry your bags and charm the salesclerks at the register without flirting overmuch and just generally try to make himself as useful as possible, all for the dizzy and undying pleasure of making you happy. And even though I am not a boy, I look like one, and so I can be complicit with her in this kind of wonderful afternoon, part indulgence of her great beauty and style, part guerilla feminist activism.

Later, when we walk through the mall or down the sidewalk, me laden with packages that are clearly hers, I watch the eyes of the people we pass: the women who look at me with a certain longing, wishing they had their own boys to carry the bags. The men who look at her with an unmistakable hunger, wishing that they had the honor of schlepping for a girl like her, and then look at me with a certain edge of disbelief, not quite clear about why I get to squire this marvelous example of femininity around when they are clearly wealthier, more handsome, better hung. I have learned to meet all of these gazes with a calm kind of sweetness. There's no point in defensiveness or sheepishness or challenge. I'm the one holding her bags."

"Being a Shopping Switch” Butch is a Noun essays by S. Bear Bergman (2006)

[b00tyliciousbabe]

munch

bisexualbigboybf! x THICC!male reader

summary: manifesting my future husband

notes: THANKS FOR 1k ppl dem! BEEN IN DRAFTS FOR A WHILE. i think there needs to be some more love + appreciation for bi men and big boys so i amalgamated the two. not a fetish y’all, just a preference, they be taking care of my inner princess and for that i will ALWAYS be grateful. a lot of feminisation in this one so tread carefully. it’s a lil messy (jumps in tenses and stuff like that) but i litch couldn’t focus without getting too excited. ENJOY MY HEARTS.

song rec: normani - big boy (feat. starrah)

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅

your big boy bf didn’t think he had a chance with you at first, nor did he even want one. at first he hated you, watching how all the other men in your life were one flirty conversation away from having a piece of your juicy ass, and how the girls envied and coveted your thick hourglass figure. your sweet personality sickened him ; you made sure to give them your gym routine and your diet, being the beauty guru you were. but what he realised, was not that he hated you, but that he hated not having you. when he realised this, he needed you, more than anything.

you embodied a refreshing style of hyper femininity that made you all the more attractive to your bi man. seeing your body in its thick glory made him love himself more. how your belly added to your voluptuous figure, your plump cheeks, and fleshy muscle surrounding your chest and thighs, he was mesmerised by your form. you were, in his eyes, divine. little did he know that you had fallen first; his broad shoulders, strong biceps and pudgy belly practically had you ovulating. your gigantic teddy bear, standing at a foot taller than you, had a heart of gold and this protective aura around him, enamoured you.

when you debuted your relationship online, you were met with a flurry of mainly positive responses. yeah sure there were the odd few denouncing your femininity and body shaming y’all, but you ignored them because you don’t have to convince the world that you’re THEE baddie b and your man is the sexiest mf to ever exist.

luvagoalz: they are literally the embodiment of the wattpad height difference. I NEED.

user222: y/n getting dicked down DAILY by a giant is so girlboss of him.

sza: bestie got himself a big boy - y/n send me the deets for the wedding.

your bf is a huge gym rat and when you two became exclusive, your already voluptuous figure became all the more defined with his help. you were flawless. you love seeing him in the gym, sweating as the veins in his forearms pop out making him look so attractive. he definitely enjoys your company there, teasingly rubbing his bulge against your ass and face when no one was watching. his exhibitionist kink goes crazy seeing how beautifully your workout clothes hug your butt and cinch your waist. he used to be slightly insecure about his stretch marks but after a cool down session, and you complimenting them like lightning bolts imprinted on his skin, he felt superhuman. you always knew what to say to make him feel better.

he’s so protective of you. always sleeps on the side closest to the door and isn’t afraid to send someone to hospital if they even look at you the wrong way, or in a manner he doesn’t like. in his mind he’s seeded you and you’re literally carrying his kids and thus it’s his responsibility to protect you. it’s almost primal. he isn’t controlling or anything, but finds it incredibly important to remind you that with him you are completely safe.

they say the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and boy was that the case during your talking stage. it was perfect; you love to cook and so he’s more than happy to try your baked goods. your boyfriend loves his sleep on the weekends and so in true house husband fashion you often prepare breakfast in an apron with your thick cheeks hanging out from behind. one day he woke up to the sweet smell of you making his favourite. groggily stumbling into the kitchen, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, long dick swinging out of his briefs as he advanced towards you.

‘good morning love.’ his deep voice sent shivers down your spine as he kissed the words into your neck. he held onto the groove of your hips, caressing your lower back with the tip of his index finger and watched as you writhed beneath him. ‘babe, what are you doing up? you need your sleep, you’ve been working so hard lately.’ you said, breathing haphazardly as he ground himself into you. ‘i missed you. and i want my morning kisses.’ beginning to untie your apron he turned you around, and removed the lace from around your neck. hiking you up on the table top, the heat of your bare ass, that his dick previous massaged into you, was cooled by the granite. you wrapped your legs around him, as your hands stroked his beard. wiping that shit eating grub off of his face, your lips came closer to his own, as you could feel his heartbeat in his throat - this man is so in love with you. the kiss lasted quite a while, precum staining the opening of his boxers and pooling on your thighs. you knew that you were about to be fucked dumb and so you turned of the hob to avoid burning the house down. the fire inside y’all was more than enough to keep you going.

your man doesn’t fully realise his own strength. he was very hesitant to have sex with you for a while and mostly stopped at groping you before his dick got too hard to ignore. so, for your first time, he had to refrain literally ripping your clothes to get to the prize of your nudity. he absolutely loves seeing you (try to) deepthroat. the reason? his size kink goes insane when you attempt to take his gigantic package. this man is LONG and GIRTHY, capable of splitting you in half and abusing all your spots with ease. the veiny sausage he’s packing could do some serious damage but he held back when it came to your first couple times with him.

he always takes time to ensure that your safe and comfortable. initially his size intimidated you, your mannerisms connoting your subtle anxiety. he kissed the fear out of you, reassuringly saying, ‘you know I would never do anything to hurt you.’

your boyfriend is the KING of consent, always ensuring that you want his big cock just as much as he wants to feel the warmth of your boy pussy. one day whilst he was working from home, he noticed you squirming like an omega in heat. he sighed and smirked. ‘d’you want me to fuck you?’ he burst out. already used to his blunt disposition, you nodded. advancing closer towards you, staring down at the desperation in your face, he stroked your hair. ‘use your words y/n, i wanna hear how badly you want it.’ his charisma practically had you high. ‘I need you, please.’ you began to undo the string that held up his joggers, as he removed his tshirt. ‘i can never say no to my baby boy.’ he smiled, pants bunching at his ankles as he slowly railed on the edge of your shared bed.

he encourages you to take him fully each time, praising you because no one else had been able to take him past halfway. ‘i know baby, i know, do it one more time for me.’ he said endearingly, wiping the tears from your face as his dick invaded your throat.‘THERE IT ISSS UGH FUCK! i love your mouth.’ he cooed.

equally, your bf is the only man you’ve been with that’s been able to satisfy you sexually. you steered clear from all the men who were only interested in your body and not your heart and so you had very minimal experience outside of toys and your hands. the few you may or may not have been with were damn near clueless. on the other hand…your man has had plenty of hoe phases. it sly bugged you how he’d been intimate with a greater number you could’ve imagined but all that disappeared when he first made love to you. the best thing about him is that he can handle allat that ass. despite the clear size difference this doesn’t stop you from being a FREAK. He even encourages it. loving your thick globes of ass flesh kiss his lower belly as you push back and twerk all over his dick. his favourite part of your shape are your hips. he wants to breed you full of his children.

whenever he says ‘fuck yeah baby, back that shit up.’ it sends you orbital. it’s well known that the two of you share a huge affinity for doggy. the way you stroke his pudginess while he rails you in that position has become a safety mechanism - one that he has learnt to make the experience all the more enjoyable. with one hand holding you up (realistically struggling to, under the sheer passion of his fucking) and the other one bent behind your back fingering his belly button. his huge dick borderline tears you open and by grabbing onto him makes you feel safe. he usually recognises that it’s getting a bit too much when your moans become screams, and you get tighter. and as much as he loves seeing you overstimulated and fucked out on his cock, he doesn’t wanna break you (completely). so he slows down, soothing your pain with sweet nothings and his large hands massaging your ass cheeks.

for him personally though, he loves to smush you underneath his weight. in prone bone, he has direct access to your ear, whispering words of affirmation but degrading you with the grip of his arms around your neck. his beard hair softly touching your cheek, causing a wave of bliss to hit you, always gets him going. he knows you love hearing him praise you; his grunts are so delectable, a symphony with the percussion of him clapping tf outta your cheeks. as you whine like a lil bitch, they become guttural, like an alpha in his rut. the carnal passion of your heavier and rougher sessions reveal a callous side to his possessive nature. dangerous how much it turns you on.

words can’t really describe how much you love his stomach, happy trail adorning his belly, and riding him offers you the opportunity to see allat that on a platter. his smirk as he tries to contain his excitement that your his and only his.

on the topic of eye contact, you’re favourite mutual position is definitely missionary - your bf adores every inch of you. how your body becomes compliant. your hole crafted to take his big dick. the way it pierces through the walls of your pussy, massaging your gumminess. he sometimes drools from how lost he can be in the experience. ‘take my cock, yhhh baby, fuckkkk.’

slowing down his jack hammering pace, he’d lean forward with his low hanging balls rutting into you agonizingly slow.

‘you like that shit, huh baby? yeah? loving on my dick so well.’ whispering as he begins to mark your collarbone. then moving upwards onto your neck, massaging your previously pummeled throat as you looked up, desperate to kiss him. he exhales into your mouth, breathing life into you that he had taken away with his hard thrusts. his softness escaped as quickly as it arose, thrusting his entire load into you.

‘shit’ you scream as he laughs hoarsely, the rasp in his voice a melting honey.

in the same position, you love his cum face. something about how his eye and nose scrunch as he pants and grunt deeply. his beard ticking your chin. it also allows him to be vulnerable with you. he would hold your head cradling it with an affection rivalled only by how sweetly his tip kisses your prostate with each lengthy thrust. when he first enters, he’s checking to see if your okay, if you want more lube. you say no. legs just above his hips, you bring your hand to stroke his beard as he concentrates on directing his dick in a way that doesn’t make him cum immediately upon re entry.

‘i love you.’ you say getting all emotional from how well he’s treating you. ‘I love you too y/n.’ he leans down for more kisses as your hand now snakes around the back of his head.

he stops, letting you catch your breath, playing with your hair and caressing your face lovingly. your arms drop immediately at the warmth of his touch. he lifts and cradles your head, a delicacy opposing his rough demeanour.

‘I fucking love you,’ your bf grunts, placing forehead kisses, panting, as he starts moving faster. your legs now wrapped tightly around his abdomen like a vice. he plants both hands behind your head, balling his fists at either side of your head to create the perfect foundation to fuck you hard. brings one of his hands to cradle your hair and to bring your head closer to his. your temples meet ensuring that you’re so close and intimate. the man brings his body up, still inside you, collects your legs together, one leg on each shoulder holding onto the thick flesh of your upper thighs, allowing you to adjust, before toppling over onto you again to get deeper inside your pussy. later, moving his hands up to behind your knees, his rugged fingertips grip the flesh of your hamstrings.

your boyfriend brings his fingers up to stroke your cheeks and remove the hair sticking to your face. he’s growling at his need to go ham, but he exercises self-control as a means to take care of you. however, what he doesn’t realise is that his painfully slow strokes transport you to a utopia of bodily ecstasy.

he ABSOLUTELY loves seeing the imprint of his girthy cock in your stomach, pressing down on it to add to your respective pleasures. and when you both reach the top of the mountain, the visual of you being completely fucked out on his huge pole, as it protrudes through your stomach which is now decorated with your own personal release, makes him wanna rail you again. and again. until you pass out or his dick becomes limp. the latter would never happen because wherever you are, that cocks gonna be UP.

aftercare is so underrated with him. in his past relationships, it was usually a hit and quit it situation - his words not mine. thus he didn’t really know what to do at first. he’s so used to hookup culture, that he never bothered. but with you, he knew he had to change; one, because he knew you’d never let him near you again if he didn’t take care of you, but mainly two, because you were his and he had a responsibility to cherish you. considering you literally couldn’t walk and body was limp, your man needed to ensure you were taken care of. though he always reassures you, you make sure to do the same. the first time you spooned him he slept like a baby. BIG BOYS NEED CUDDLES TOO Y’ALL.

he gets really apologetic, constantly asking ‘did I go to rough.’ as he massages the bruises on your hips. sometimes feels guilty that he fucks you too hard. You put his mind at ease telling him that you do like it. your bubble butt and tight hole were made to take his cock.

this still doesn’t stop him from confessing to you; ‘baby, I’m so sorry.’ he kisses your skin. ‘when I see that ass if yours jiggle, it drives me crazy, I just can’t stop.’ it often leads to him overcompensating. as the his cum seeps out of your obliterated cunt. he just wants to make you feel safe. the same safety he feels when he’s with you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅

tag list:

@gayaristocrat

@ghostking4m

@lysanderplume

[serpentface]

First Goose of Spring: What was it like living in Cynozepal?

"...I haven't actually seen much of it, but the kingslek had the most stunning view of the mountains. They rise higher than anything you've ever seen, I'm sure, all the way up to the clouds. And our serfs actually live up there! It must be awful, braving the heights and fending off those little qilik barbarians. But we are a very strong people, so they manage just fine.

But the kingslek was the very best place in Cynozepal. It had everything you could possibly want. There was a garden with a little herd of horses living in it, and a spring to bathe in, and musicians and singers, and plenty of good food and wine, and the finest cushions to sleep on, and a HUGE library that had every book in the civilized world, probably? And there were always tons of servants around to care for us. My handmaid, Gray Gull Comes Home Wealthy With Fish - may her next birth be prosperous - lived in the kingslek too. Because she used to be a concubine, I guess? And she was the best of all. I never learned to read like my older sisters did - may their next births be prosperous -, but she would read to me whenever I wanted so it was okay.

So obviously I never wanted to leave. But my sisters and I had to leave the kingslek sometimes. Like when our mothers and father had very, very important guests, or when there was an execution, or for the solstice songs. And this was always a dreadful bore. But Gray Gull Comes Home Wealthy With Fish would always bring my favorite books along, so it wasn't TOO bad. And she would always, ALWAYS carry me there on her back. Until I got too big, but we have litters for that.

And now, I am expected to walk everywhere. EVERYWHERE! Or fly like a serf, sun be swallowed. I hate it here."

---

Notes:

-Goose is the absolute worst source to to ask about life in Cynozepal. First and foremost, she's a young child and hasn't been on this earth all that long (she's cognitively equivalent to a human preteen, and is 5 years old). As the third youngest princess among 39 daughters, Goose spent the vast majority of her life both cloistered in the kingslek (which is a privilege) while experiencing little to no pressure to excel and being minimally educated (as she was exceptionally unlikely to be married into an important political role). She would leave this space only infrequently, and never once stepped foot outside of the palace grounds prior to her dynasty's fall.

...And she LOVED it. Now she’s out seeing the world firsthand, breathing the fresh air and feeling the ground beneath her feet, and it fucking suuuuuckkkkkssssss, man.

-The kingslek refers both to the collective women in a royal family (wives, concubines, daughters, all of whom will typically outnumber the men at LEAST 20:1) and the domestic space in which they live. This is a massive section of the palace (as it houses most of the members) complete with its own amenities, gardens, etc. It is functionally the center of power and politics within the palace (the culture itself is not outright matriarchal, but the institution of the kingslek effectively has more political power than the king, and tremendous sway on his actions).

-Honeythief is translating for her. He frequently manipulates his translations to make her sound a little more down to earth (but still regal and far, far more important than you) and less like an exceptionally ignorant, spoiled child, but his translation here is accurate.

-Crown Cynozepali language is (and a majority of caelin and delkhin languages are) predominantly tonal in nature, supplemented with rapid clicks and deep booming 'drum' beats (it is these aspects that are physically impossible for humans to accurately reproduce). To a human ear, these languages often sound like vaguely musical but discordant barrage of sounds. I'm attempting to represent this visually with dots and squiggles.

-'Little qilik barbarians' is not referring to qilik of the region as a whole. She is referring disparagingly to the Cu-Chukka, which are a people that traditionally inhabit the higher reaches of the Azure Mountains, and do not frequently interact with the Crown Cynozepali sphere outside of land conflicts with serfs (who build their homes at high altitudes and often encroach on Cu-Chukka territory). 'Barbarian' in this context is a racist and xenophobic insult that groups together all qilik, caelin, and delkhin peoples that do not speak Crown.

Honeythief is Chit-Sut-Susit (a nationality native to parts of eastern Cynozepal and the Ch'Chen plateau, most of whom exist within the Crown cultural sphere), and is not receiving a microaggression in this particular context.

-Crown Cynozepali personal names are descriptive phrases. Song and poetry is of central cultural import, and naming conventions are rooted in these poetic traditions, designed to be beautiful and evocative turns of phrase. This is often lost in translation, and the names take substantially longer to speak when translated into most human languages.

-There are taboos surrounding speech that evokes the recently dead (defined as within a solar year), that require additions of placating phrases that will dissuade the dead from attaching to the speaker and direct them towards a good rebirth. "May her next birth be prosperous" is one example. Goose's handmaid and most if not all of her sisters (among other relations) were killed in the coup.

-The 'solstice songs' refer to traditional 'boomsinging' performed at the summer and winter equinox to call down the Solar Dragon. (boomsinging is an artform utilizing the deep, thunderous vocalizations caelin and delkhin can produce- sounds like a combination of throat singing, drum beats, and a noise kind of like a sage grouse display but deeper. The sound can travel for miles)

-'Sun be swallowed' is a translation of a phrase used to (often hyperbolically) emphasize the horror and depravity of a situation. Kind of saying 'what's next? the end of the world?'.

-Kingslek members and royalty as a whole are transported from place to place in litters and carriages, but they aren't carried literally Everywhere (they do like, walk). Goose recalling constantly riding on the back of her handmaid is describing a time where she was a tiny 5 lb child (a phase in life where most caelin and delkhin children will ride on their mother's backs).

[recreationalfanfics]

Record of Justice: Wonder Woman! Reader HCs

I am so gay for Diana.

- Brunhilde doesn't HESITAITE to choose you as one of her champions, seeing as you're both demi-gods who come from a warrior race of women, I can see you and her honestly having a lot in common together.

- But yeah, no, Diana's whole thing is that she wants to save the world of man so even of Brunhilde didn't choose her, you would have still chosen to fight because it was your duty.

- So Wonder Woman has multiple origins: Her original one being that she was born from clay by her mother but there are versions she has a dad which kinda switches between Hades and Zeus. Zeus will be your father in this case because I genuinely like the idea of him blowing his fucking gasket when he sees you enter in the side of humanity.

- "YOU KNOW HER, YOU LOVE HER: LADIES AND GENTLEGODS, GIVE IT UP FOR THE AMAZONIAN PRINCESS AND SAVIOR OF MAN: (Y/N)!!!"

- Ares and Wonder Woman have so much beef in the comics so you and him definetly don't see eye to eye now. In fact, Ares would fight you himself if he could but like, you're also kinda scary when you're mad.

- Zeus and Poseidon are literally about to blow a fucking gasket when they see you. Zeus is more subtle as usual as he's all: "Oh, well she's always been the black sheep of the family!" but in reality, he feels deeply betrayed. Poseidon isn't surprised honestly, he genuinely believes you should have grown up with the Olympians instead of on Themyscira because then maybe you'd learn to look down on those pathetic humans instead of protecting them.

- Tbh, Poseidon does have a bit of a soft spot for you as his niece because you're the only one whose ever DARED to back talk him despite knowing his power. He wishes your mother, Hippolyta, wasn't such a stubborn woman. I can totally see moments when you're absolutely destroying Gods and Poseidon just smiling proudly at you but then quickly scowling so no one can see him.

- However the Greek Gods who explicitly still care for you are definetly Hermes, Hercules, and Aphrodite.

- Aphrodite, being your big sister, absolutely adores you even if you two aren't on the same side. She smiles when she sees you and if she can, she will try to catch you in the hallways and pull you into a hug, meanwhile you're kinda suffocating in her bosom. She compliments you on what a strong and beautiful woman you've become, the only reason she isn't upset with you for "betraying" the family is because...well, you've always been like that. It's just nice to see you again♡

-As for Hercules, you both are Demi gods and while you acknowledge humanities faults, you welcomed him with open arms and appreciate his dedication. You two might not be bound by blood but the way you carry each other's ideals and respect and tease each other, its very clear you two have an unbreakable bond.

- Hermes adored you since you were born. Despite Themyscira's laws that men weren't allowed on the island, he was a God, and would happily come and see you to play with you. Taking on a big brother role in your life, he smiles softly as you glare at your father and he thinks you're just as cute as when you were a little toddler struggling to walk on the sandy beach coast of your island.

- As for the human side, they're all in literal wonder of you...which makes sense regarding your hero alias, but when they watched you at work: you impressed everyone while Brunhilde smiled at you and it pissed Zeus off even more when you both shook hands and sent him smug smirks on your faces.

Enemies/People Who Dislike You:

- Ares is a huge hater as I stated before, maybe you humiliated him in the past in front of Zeus, or maybe it was that one time you stole his helmet in a fight and became the New Goddess of War for a while but either way: you and him should never be in the same room together because not even the Gods can predict that disaster.

- Loki thought the rope thing was kinda hot but found out the hard way WHY it was called the Lasso of Truth. Even when he is shaped shifted, he will revert to his normal form if you ever catch him with it AND YOU ALWAYS FUCKING DO. He also can't even try and mislead you by telling you half truths because he just blurts out the truth right away. Everyone absolutely adores you for it, ngl since Loki doesn't even bother pulling tricks when you're around and when he sees you fight for humanity, he throws a huge tantrum...He still finds the rope thing hot tho...

- Zeus. He has conflicted feelings for you, he does love you but he wishes you wouldn't always go against his wishes...though he supposes thats what he gets for having your mother raise you instead of him. You show him respect but you clearly harbour bitter feelings for him betraying your trust and wanting to wipe out humanity and he understands that. It still doesn't give you the right to laugh about him with Brunhilde and he'll be sure to get you back for it.

Allies/Friends Who Trust You:

- Brunhilde is honestly a good friend of yours, I genuinely think she sees you the same way she sees Hercules but she relates to you a little more. (The Valkyries and Amazon's would have martinis on the beaches of Themyscira, fight me on that-)

- Shiva, honestly. He likes that you're strict but you can definetly be fun and silly in your own way. You honestly remind him of Rudra, who he totally tries to set you up with so because you two really have a lot in common!

- Obviously Hercules, Hermes, and Aphrodite but also: Poseidon, surprisingly...sometimes. Again, he does soften a bit when it comes to you and he wonders if you're simply stubborn and brave or stubborn and stupid. You are his favorite niece but also, the one that causes him to roll his eyes the most.

- Honestly, all of the Valkyries. When you heard about Brunhilde and her Völundr's, you knew that it was clever but also: that you couldn't just stand to let your fellow sisters in battle fall, the odds being against them. Also, the will all hug you and tackle you to the ground.

- Sasaki Kojiro is a human you take a liking too, he reminds you of a friend whose clad in all black...except he's more cheerful and happy and might have lost in life, but still: he never gives up. You admire those skills in a human and he gets all shy and flustered when you compliment him but I can totally see the both of you practicing sword fights and even moments where he beats you, which you're proud of him for doing, honestly.

- Adam. He genuinely just is the dad Zeus never was, even though you're not one of his own children, he'll fight like you are. Tbh, the only man that deserves to set foot in Themyscira and the other Amazon's would agree. Eve also gossiping with your Hippolyta in the crowd and complimenting her on raising such a wonderful daughter and they talk about mom things.

Admirers/Characters Who Have a Crush on You:

- Thor, just straight up. Since you're a fellow immortal, you two have somewhat known each other, you didn't really care much for the godly affairs so it wasn't often, but he's had the biggest crush on you. When he saw you fight so fearlessly in the crowd, those feelings came back 10 fold. Definetly wants to fight you because that's his way of flirting. Zeus and Odin 100% want to pair you two together to create an official alliance and while Thor wants you to choose him out of your own volition, he will suggest that it is a good idea.

- Jack the Ripper. HE HAS BISEXUAL PANIC BECAUSE HERCULES WAS ALREADY SOKIND TO HIM BUT YOU?? OH, YOU'RE TRULY DESERVING OF THE TITLE OF GODDESS, your color is so gorgeous; filled with such love and passion. After his battle, after he killed Hercules, he is ashamed to face you. But, amazingly, you do not look at him in disgust or shame. You kneel down and gently hold his face, you are in mourning, but you still kiss his head gently and tell him: "You fought well. Rest." and he just short circuits as you begin to carry him.

- BUDDHA, BABY. He loves how serious you are but also, that you can be pretty goofy honestly. Also loves how you stand up to Zeus constantly. Not to mention he certainly has a thing for strong women. But also, he finds your work inspiring, trying to guide humanity to a better life of enlightment. HIPPOLYTA ALSO TRYING TO SET YOU TWO UP BECAUSE SHE'S A COOL MOM AND SHE'S ALL: "You know, that Buddha has been staring at you~" and you have to be all: "MOTHER!" And he walks over to you and offers you a snack and you take it. Zeus hates him because he thinks Buddha would be a "bad influence" on you.

[subbmissivesuccubus]

A - G (Part 1)

Content : Rengoku X Fem Reader X Uzui. NSFW one shots.

A-Z prompts, part 1~

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Uzui and Rengoku are the best when it comes to aftercare. They know they've put you through it and that your body took quite the pounding since you perfectly satisfied both of them, as you always do. Even their bodies pressing against you, bringing you down from your highs as their weight and heat relaxed you made you groan in content. Rengoku is more active in aftercare, wiping you down with a cloth, getting you a glass of water, making sure you're clean and present, sometimes even bringing you some food if he feels like you're too exhausted. On nights where things get especially messy, he'll draw you a hot bath while Uzui tends to you, dropping in some soothing oils before going back to the bedroom and carrying you to said bath. Both men will get in with you, massaging and bathing you, taking care of you as you fall asleep in the comfort of their arms. Uzui was better at bringing you down to reality emotionally. He'd caress you face, whisper praises and words of affirmation as he kisses you all over. He'll stoke your hair lovingly as he looks down at you with so much adoration in his eyes, you feel like tearing up. He'll tell you how good you were, how lucky they are to have you, how you're the most stunning princess and how you please them so well. He'll lay down and bring you to his chest, big strong arms holding you tightly, the sound of his heartbeat soothing, truly feeling like he'll never let anything hurt you and you'd be right.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Uzui loves your booty. This man can't get enough of it. Whether it's a light tap as he walks by you, or a gentle squeeze as you kiss, or just holding it while he sleeps, or spanking you as he fucks into you from behind- He loves getting his hands on that ass. So plump and juicy- he sometimes uses your butt as a pillow if you happen to be relaxing while lying down on your stomach and other times, he'll just pull your pants down and bite your ass, laughing at your squeal as he leaves his teeth marks behind on your butt. He'll buy you pretty and skimpy underwear just so you can give him a show, cock hardening as he sees the way the fabric shapes your peachy butt. Uzui is very proud of his physique and honestly can't choose which part of his body is his favorite. Whether it's his height, his washboard abs, his bulging muscles, his firm pecs, thick thighs or fat cock- he's worked very hard to get the body he has and is more than thrilled that you like to worship his physique just as much as he does.

On you, Rengoku adores your tummy. Whether you have defines abs, a flat stomach, a bit of chub or a big belly, he loves your tummy. When you're alone with him and the two of you are just relaxing together, you've gotten used to your man sliding his hand underneath your clothes before gently grabbing your stomach, rubbing it sweetly. When you cuddle together, falling asleep in each other's arms, even if you start the night on Rengoku's chest, his arm around you, it will somehow end up with the man's face in your tummy, snuggling into your warmth as he wraps his arms tightly around you. Much like Uzui and your ass, he loves to kiss, bite and mark up your stomach, leaving traces of him behind. On himself he likes his arms. Muscular, defined, strong- he's caught you looking at his arms more than once and even more so when the two of you have sex, your eyes trailing up the veins popping out his skin. His arms are strong enough to vanquish the toughest of demons while also being loving enough to hold you, hugging you tightly against him in a loving embrace as you cuddle, not letting go of you even when asleep.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Both of your men cum like a faucet. Big, fat balls constantly pumping out rope after rope of cum, filling your womb up so much it seeps out. Most of the time, its hot. A few times, it's a bit of a nuisance. Like how after a quickie you don't have time to clean yourself up before you immediately need to leave on a mission so you have to try your best to not let their cum seep out of you and stain your clothes.

Or how your sheets need to be washed after every other session as it is a mess of your juices and their cum. Or if they ever choose to cum on your face in the middle of your fuck sessions you need to take a break and clean it off since there's so much of it and you can't possibly continue like that. Or when one of them cums down your throat and you try your absolute hardest to drink it down but some days it's just too much and you give up, pulling away to cough and collect yourself as the remaining cum splashes on your body- or even - on your uniform which cause quite the predicament for you.

The men would laugh as you complained about these problems but, they were sweet and considerate and tried to make things less inconvenient for you whenever they could. Like how both of them have spare uniforms in your size at their respective houses if you ever need a quick change. Or that one time Rengoku immediately got on his knees and ate his cum out of you in record speed, giving you a nice orgasm in the process, before you had to leave for a mission. Or whenever Uzui plans on making you squirt he'd lay a plastic sheet over the bed to prevent the mattress from getting dirty. They still loved to fill up your womb and your mouth and would forever be addicted to cumming on your body- but atleast they made an effort to make things more comfortable for you and it's the thought that counts.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Rengoku prides himself in being a gentleman. He has traditional values i.e. he wants to be a husband you can rely on, who will provide for you and protect you, who will treat you like the Goddess you are and who will never, ever, hurt you in any way.

But there is a dark part of him that really wants to spank your ass. And not just a playful spank he might do on occasion- he means bending you over and letting you have it.

It shocks him sometimes. All he wants to do is shower you with love, praise, affection and orgasms. He likes being rough with you, both of you enjoying the feeling but the idea of inflicting actual pain on you makes his heart drop to his stomach- but it makes his cock throb. A part of him wants to bend you over his knee, rip off your uniform to expose that pretty ass before raising his hand and spanking you silly, bring his hand down over and over again to turn your beautiful skin to a vibrant shade of red. He wants to feel you squirm beneath his hold- hear you cry out as he smacks your poor butt- tears in your pretty eyes as you beg him to forgive you for whatever naughty thing you did that week. He almost came in his pants when he saw Uzui spank you once, his comrade having no issues bending you over a table and letting you ass have it, growling some of the most nasty, degrading things to you while you sobbed underneath him, words that Rengoku would never say but- but a part of him really wanted to. If you eventually have a talk with Rengoku about how you want him to be more dominating- that you'd like him to spank you and punish you- that it's okay for him to explore this side of him with you- it's over for the both of you.

Uzui will eventually introduce you to his wives of course and while a huge part of him is possessive of you- not wanting anyone but himself and Rengoku to see how delightfully adorable and sexy you are behind closed doors- a small part of him gets turned on by the idea of you and his wives in bed together. I mean, if and when he makes you his wife, you'll have to get along with Suma, Makio and Hinatsuru anyway and what better way to bond that to have your cute, submissive body under the control of three, beautiful women? His cock grows hard at the picture of you with his wives- but his brain feels irritated as he doesn't want to share you with more people- speaking of which, Rengoku might not agree to sharing you with his wives, his opinion is important as well- plus if an orgy like situation breaks out then Uzui wouldn't want Rengoku to see his three wives naked but not having him present would also be unfair-

Ah well- he'll figure things out when the time comes.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Rengoku had one lover before you and it was a relationship that lasted awhile. They had to split ways as they were no longer as happy together as they once were but he now considers that a blessing, despite how sad the breakup made him, as it meant he could freely fall in love with you. Being the second person he's ever been with, Rengoku had to learn a few tricks during his time with you. He always had good stamina and an even better cock but as he only had experience with one other person, it took him a few tries before he really got to understand your body and what you liked and especially, which spots on and inside you got the best reaction and made your pussy gush. He wouldn't admit it but he learnt a lot from watching Uzui fuck you, his companion figuring things out much quicker than he did, and adopted some techniques to make your sex life a lot more enjoyable for the both of you. He isn't a man with a fragile ego, always willing and even eager to hear your thoughts on how he can better please you, and making sure he acts on your remarks next time.

Uzui- I mean come on- the man has three wives and has enough experience in the bedroom than a room full of men combined. He is well versed in the act of lovemaking and knows very well that everyone's body is different and that there are a few tricks to easily figuring out what works for whom. It barely took him a few seconds to find you g-spot when he first fingered you, curling his digits inside you just right and snickering into your skin when he heard your delicious welp and felt you tighten around him, quickly realizing that you were a sensitive little thing and he couldn't wait to play with you. It gave him quite the ego boost when he realized Rengoku was studying his techniques, the flame pillar not as subtle as he hopes he was, as Uzui brought orgasm after orgasm out of your pretty, subby body.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Rengoku's favorite position is the mating press <3 the man loves folding you in half, his biceps bulging as he presses the back of your knees against your chest, cock ramming into your cunt vigorously. He loves everything about it: He has a view of your pretty face, cheeks flushed, lips kissed red and eyes rolling to the back of your head as his cock hits all the perfect spots. Your tits look delectable in that position, squished between your legs, making them look more plump and delicious. It's also a comfortable position to give your sweet ass a spank or two if he so desires. But of course, best of all, it's a great position to drive his cock deep, deep inside you to fill your womb with his cum~

Uzui's favorite is prone bone. With his size kink- loving how huge he is compared to you- he finds it so hot when he gets you to lie flat on the bed with him lying flat on top of you, cock fucking deep into your pussy. With your height difference, your face gets buried into the mattress by his chest, the man literally laughing above you, your head underneath his chin. You're a strong woman and he knows you can take it, but he needs to remind himself to be careful to not crush you even as your perfect velvet pussy milks his cock so wonderfully. He loves having you under his mercy and what better way to do that than by pushing you down with his hulking body? You'd never admit it, but Uzui knows you also get off on the size kink, addicted to his muscular body taking you in every which way.

When they both fuck you simultaneously, their favorite position is to spit roast you, one man down your throat while the other is fucking your pussy. Whether it's throat fucking you in an attempt to cum in your mouth or to simply get cock-warmed while they wait for the other man to finish fucking your pussy- your mouth is just as addicting as your cunt, your jaw always sore by the end of the night from sucking cocks. They have been training your ass slowly to one day take their dicks- gradually increasing the stretch night by night. First it's a finger- then two- then three- then a plug- then a plug they make you wear the whole day and on and on and on. Eventually, when you get to a point where you can take both their cocks at once, one in your pussy and the other in your ass, no doubt, that will become their new favorite position.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It's a mix of both but Rengoku is definitely the more serious type. He likes to give you his full, undivided attention and only focus on making love and fucking your brains out. And with his desire to put a baby in you, it makes for a lot of passionate fucking with little room to goof around.

Uzui is a bit less serious, although not one you'd call humorous. He does finds humor in the sex and will sometimes laugh when he makes you cry on his cock, or your expression when your eyes roll to the back of your head when you try to deep throat him or the way you babble and plead, all cock drunk and fucked out when he pulls another orgasm out of you. He just enjoys sex and depending on his mood, he'll either be really into it or he'll put his hands behind his head and relax, challenging you to take the lead once in awhile.

[fluffysucker]

Battered and Bruising.

Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU) Boxer/Biker! Bucky Barnes x Chef! Reader Part of the Miss Americana & The heartbreak Prince. AKA Bucky and his princess ALL ONESHOTS CAN BE READ AS STAND-ALONE

You received a distressing phone call.

Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female. Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me.

Also I'm very bad at describing places. Please forgive me. Hope it's clear to picture.

Main Masterlist

You couldn't sit still. You kept squirming and fuzzing in the taxi's seat. You were sure the driver was giving you dirty looks, afraid you would wear down the material of his vehicle. But you couldn't care. You were close to biting your nails off. You were so worried. Anxiety filling your body like the darkness of the sky at midnight. Tension running through your muscles and veins like water in oceans.

It was supposed to be a normal day. just like any other.

You woke up to the feeling of soft kisses on your neck and strong arms wrapping tightly around you, pulling you closer than you were already. Sweet words filling your ears with your boyfriend's sleepy voice.

You lived for mornings like this, which is why you wouldn't be able to recall the last time you woke up alone in bed. It was either your place or his. A drawer in each of your dressers is now officially dedicated to the other's stuff. Pieces of each of you were spread at each other's homes. Because you became each other's home. Bucky was itching to ask you to move in together, but he was waiting for the right time.

After the blissful morning you shared together at Bucky's place with breakfast and your joint getting-ready routine, you left to start the day. It was a big bonus that both of your workplaces were separated by a wall. It gave you both a lot more time to spend together. Not only did you get to arrive and leave together, but you also got the chance to sneak in and see each other whenever you liked. You were lucky.

The minute you stepped in, you had so many things to do. Customers were following your tail as you walked in. Your business was growing, and you could never complain. As the day carried on, you got busier and busier. However, that didn't stop you from checking the time every now and then, so you didn't miss it. You would be sad if you did.

So when it reached five o'clock, you were throwing your apron off and leaving the restaurant. Ten minutes wouldn't hurt anybody.

You opened the gym's door and greeted MJ, who will be taking on the receptionist role since Peter was going with them tonight. You reminded yourself to stop by and drop off some food for her in a couple of hours. Maybe even a dessert.

Once you walked into the main area, your eyes were scanning the place for the person you came for.

"He is the locker room." You turned around as you heard Sam's voice.

"We could have left an hour early, but he refused. I wonder why." The smirk on Sam's face was big. Of course, he knew why Bucky didn't want to leave earlier than he told you.

"Have a good day, Sam." You walked towards the locker room with a smile on your face.

Bucky and the others had their own locker rooms other than the ones for the regular gym attendees. It was the one in the very back. Bucky chose it for privacy reasons. And since you got together, he had been enjoying this choice more and more.

As you were about to knock on the door, it was opened by Steve, who was walking out. A smirk, just like Sam's, found its place on his face as he saw you. Both men enjoyed watching their best friend being so head over heels in love, who was making them all wait for you because he never wanted to see the somber look on your face like he saw it once when he left before you stopped by. Never again. Everything could wait for you.

Steve stepped aside, letting you get in, and closed the door to give you both the time you needed.

Your boyfriend had his back to you as he was zipping up his duffle bag. But your sugary perfume and the smell of hours of cooking made him turn around. He would never miss your unique scent. the one that put him at ease and soothed his being.

"Hey, princess." He started walking towards you, and you met in the middle.

"Hey, you." You wrapped your arms around his neck and reached up to give him a peck on the lips.

"All ready?" You asked, keeping your arms around him.

"Yeah. Did the final training. Had a shower. Got everything I needed. We are ready to go." His arms were around your waist now.

"You are going to be so great. You are always the best." You gave him another peck.

"Just want one last thing." You looked at him, ready to help with whatever he needed.

"My good luck." Bucky easily lifted you up of your feet, kissing you passionately.

This is your routine now. Whenever Bucky had a fight, you would show up and wish him good luck before he left. He hadn't lost one since.

You were happy with this routine. Bucky was still strongly against you ever watching him fight; while you disagreed, you knew it was his choice, and you respected that. So you enjoyed whatever he gave you.

In return, Bucky let you in more. He brought you to some of the team gatherings and hangouts. He wasn't surprised when your sweet self managed to win all his friends over. They loved you. Who could ever meet you and not love you? Bucky certainly wasn't the one to answer this. And you loved them. Your ability and capacity to love everyone didn't exclude the rough people he thought of as family.

While he refused to let you anywhere near the brutality he called a job, Bucky learned to compromise. So he started opening up. He started telling you about his days, fights, and sometimes opponents more. He knew you worried a lot about him and about the stuff he never shared. So he was trying to find common ground. And if wishing him good luck before every fight was going to put your mind in the littlest of ease, Bucky could do that.

And that was the last time you saw him for the day.

Bucky told you pits and pieces about his opponent today, but nothing much. All you knew was that Bucky was training hard, and he spent lots of late nights at the gym. Some nights, you would close your restaurant and then join him and watch as he trained. Any support you could provide him with, you weren't going to hesitate. even as little as keeping his company.

Your worry about his well-being during the fights was growing each time. It grew with your love for him. And you were madly in love with him.

You busied yourself in the kitchen, letting your emotions under control while you went from recipe to recipe and from dish to dish as you waited for Bucky's text.

Another thing Bucky picked up doing to help ease your nerves was texting you right after the fight. Usually, he would tell me that he was fine and what he was doing after. Whether he was staying and going to Nat's bar or coming back to you, You only joined them in the after-fight victory parties a number of times. Usually, only when the fights were easy. Because parties after big fights weren't just for the team. There would be lots of outsiders, other boxers, and teams. You knew Bucky wouldn't be comfortable if you were there.

So you waited for him. He preferred your place after these kinds of days. You would have a meal ready in the fridge for reheating. The bathroom would be filled with soap and water. Clean, silky-smooth sheets would be in place, covering the bed. everything to help him relax. And you checked on everything before you left for his place last night.

The only thing you had to do now was wait for his text.

But it never came. Instead, you received a very distressing phone call.

That was what led you to where you are right now. Your mind racing, your knuckles white around your bag, and your leg bouncing up and down in the backseat of the taxi.

Stark's property was huge. You couldn't miss it, even if you wanted to. It made sense why it would be so deep into the city. It took a very large space that only such locations offered. The street was all dark except for the neon lights with the name Stark above the entrance. Other than that, it was nearly black.

You were able to work out the figure standing under the lights right next to the entrance. He was pacing back and forth on the pavement. You paid the driver once he stopped as you got out of the cab.

"Peter, what is going on?" With quick steps, you were standing right in front of the young man.

"Is he okay?" The slight shake in your voice was obvious. The question had been haunting you ever since Peter called and didn't answer it the first time.

"Yes," Peter replied, already seeing the worry all over your face.

"Physically, at least." Peter continued. Because if Bucky was okay, why were you here?

Before you could ask any more questions, Peter led you in. The bouncers at the door let you in immediately as they saw Peter. The inside of the place was nothing like the outside. It was loud, bright, and full of people. There were small food trucks, side bars, merchandise stations, and everything. You could see different kinds of sports and entertainment exercises scattered all over the place, with people around. However, the main area of the property was occupied by a huge boxing ring. It had the most people around it. There are lots of people.

You couldn't inspect more of the place as Peter was rushing the both of you to the back area. It was very clear since you got in here that you didn't belong at all. Your choice of outfit and aura were making you stand out among the sea of people. Peter put his hand around the small of your back, respectively, to guide you through the place. He was trying to get you inside as fast as possible. He wasn't as intimidating as Bucky or some of the others. And if anything happened to you, even as little as a snarky comment, Peter couldn't imagine the wrath he would have to endure. To say Peter was panicking would be an understatement.

The breath of relief Peter let out as you entered the back area was audible. The back area was similar to the one in the gym but much larger and busier. Peter led you to the one room in the back, which you suspected was the largest in the place. He opened the door for you, and you had to close your eyes for a second from the contrast of the lightning. The back area was dimly lit, while the locker room was bright white. You got used to the lights, then looked around to find everybody in here.

As Peter walked you in, you could feel the high tension in the room. The first thing that caught your eye was bleeding Peter Quill and Thor. You didn't know Peter Quill that well; you only met him when you met the team and never passed the greetings stage, but you were more familiar and friendly with Thor. And the sight of both big men holding their noses to stop the bleeding, with bruises forming on their faces, was troubling. Lots of the others were trying to help them.

Only did you take your eyes away when Peter kept moving further into the room until you noticed the small room separated from the big one with a door. You found Sam and Bruce talking beside the door. Peter came to a stop when you reached both men.

"Thank God you are here." Sam spoke quickly as he laid eyes on you.

"Sam, what is going on?" Up to now, you had no idea why you were here. Peter rushed you in and then brought you here with no explanation. You could feel your nerves starting to burn from anxiety.

Before Sam could say anything, a sound of something breaking coming from behind the door rang through the place. You shared eye contact with Sam for seconds, and you started to form an idea about what was happening.

You stepped towards Sam, indicating that you wanted to get inside. Sam looked at you, and you gave him a nod to assure him, and he nodded back. Sam turned and knocked on the door.

You flinched, from surprise, as your boyfriend's angry voice echoed around, shouting that he didn't want to see anyone.

However, the door was unlocked, and Steve stood in the doorframe. You couldn't read the hard expression on his face. But his eyebrows softened slightly when he saw you.

The shouting from your boyfriend made everyone wince in their places. You stepped forward to take Sam's place and stood in front of Steve, determination in your eyes.

Steve signed before he moved aside to let you in, closing the door with the three of you.

The room was small. You thought maybe it was for medical purposes, if needed. But you didn't have the time or mind to pay any attention to your new surroundings.

Your boyfriend was sitting on a chair, his head in his hands, grabbing his hair tightly between his fingers, and his breath was short and angry. Brokrn stuff and objects were scattered all around the room.

"Bucky." You called for him softly to make your presence known.

His head shot up. His eyes were red, bruises were all over his face, and his breath got angrier.

"You called her?" His voice was quiet, but it was deep, hiding many emotions.

"You called my girl?" He stood up, keeping his eyes on Steve, not looking at you at all.

"You brought my girl here?" His breath was getting shorter, with every word coming out as a growl.

"Bucky.." You tried to speak and find the right words to say so it wouldn't escalate.

"You made her come here all by herself and walk in here?" He started walking towards you and Steve.

"YOU BROUGHT HER HERE TONIGHT." Bucky shouted, his angry voice ringing in the small room.

Out of instinct, Steve stepped forward to stand in front of Bucky, keeping you behind him.

That seemed to snap Bucky out of the spell he was in. His red eyes are now coated with hurt. His breath stopped for a moment. Frozen in his place, he couldn't help but think of it. Did Steve think he would hurt you? Did Steve think he needed to protect you from him? Did Steve think that even in this state, he would cause you any harm?

It felt like a knife driven deep into his heart. Betrayal from his best friend, who brought you here against all his wishes, and then thought you needed a shield to be in the same room with him.

But no, that wasn't why Steve did it. He didn't want you to see Bucky lose his temper like he did numerous times tonight. Steve couldn't remember whose idea it was to call you, but he could remember the collective agreement that approved of the suggestion. All aware of the effect you have on the boxer. So Steve expected, like the others, that once you walked in and his best friend saw you, all the insanity that was tonight would come to an end.

But Steve should have known better. Bringing you in here would only make Bucky madder, and you would get to see a version of your boyfriend that Bucky tried so hard to keep from you. Steve regretted agreeing to bring you here.

The tension in the room got thicker. The only sound was the heavy breathing of the three of you. You weren't able to see the look on Steve's face, but Bucky's expression was crystal clear.

"Steve, can you give us a minute?" You stepped away from behind Steve, so you could be in Bucky's eyesight.

Steve turned to you with an unsure look on his face, and you immediately rubbed his shoulder to assure him you knew what you were doing.

Steve nodded and left the room silently. Now, it was just the two of you.

While Bucky looked anywhere but you, his eyes moving all over the room, you finally got to look at him. He was in a pair of black sweatpants, his chest left bare, making all the bruises and cuts on his upper body exposed to your eyes.

You signed, your heart breaking at the sight of your boyfriend battered like this. But it wasn't his physical pain that you were only worried about.

Bucky's eyes finally moved to look at you as you put your bag on the nearest table and started to move around, looking for something.

Bucky was confused. He wanted to ask you what you were doing, but he couldn't find it in himself to talk to you. Too many emotions are tormenting him.

Your little, quiet squeals told him you found what you wanted. You moved towards him with the first-aid kit in hand.

You grabbed the closest chair and positioned it in front of the chair, which Bucky was previously sitting on, and pulled a small table closer as well, where you put the first aid kit and started to empty its contents.

"You will catch lots of infections if you don't get the wounds clean." You spoke when you noticed that Bucky was standing still in his place.

"And God knows you become a big baby when you get sick." You joked. You tried to lighten the mood. to tell him that you were here to help. You weren't judging him. You would never judge him.

And he heard you. So, he came and sat back in the chair in front of you. This time, he sat with his back straight so you could patch him up.

You sat in silence, but there was so much hanging in the air between you. You didn't want to push him. You knew he would start talking when he felt ready.

"Who called you?" And he did.

"Does it matter?" You didn't look at him, sticking to cleaning his wounds.

"To me, yes." He regretted raising his voice immediately, even when you didn't move.

"You shouldn't be here." He continued when he knew he wouldn't get an answer from you.

"But I am." You looked up at him.

"And I want to." Finally, your eyes have met since you got here.

"Don't you see it? the damage I'm capable of doing. the chaos I can create. the pain I put others through. The mess I am."

Today's game was cruel, to say the least. Bucky's opponent played dirty. So dirty, that wasn't against the rules. Because this was never mentioned in any rule book. Mental hits.

Bucky's opponent not only studied Bucky's style and techniques so well, but he did some research as well. So, he would be able to defeat Bucky's strength. And he did.

The second he knew Bucky was winning, he ran his mouth nonstop. He brought up stuff that should never again be brought into the ring. Family stuff. Bucky's life before boxing, the team and their families.

It was shocking. Bucky almost lost his footing once or twice. Was this allowed? Well, it wasn't prohibited. Bucky tried to keep his head straight and not focus on the words coming from the man in front of him. However, it was getting harder and harder as the man kept getting more personal.

Until his opponent mentioned your restaurant's name, Every little drop of blood in Bucky's body ran cold. The noise around him became an annoying ring in his ears. And the opponent took his chance and started landing his punches.

Bucky was trying to regain his composure, but the man's words and punches didn't stop. He was talking nonsense about your restaurant, but he made a mistake that he never estimated.

"I heard you got soft because of that place and wanted to know why. I will tell you what. I would go soft for an adorable thing like her. What a shame that you are the only one who gets to ruin her."

That was the nail in the man's coffin.

Bucky was unstoppable. A monster. a beast with no restraints. You weren't a subject to bring into such a rotten place, and that man was going to pay for even thinking you could be involved in this circus.

Bucky only stopped when he heard the whistle and the referee breaking them apart. Bucky knew that if he didn't stop, he would have to face a penalty of sorts. So he did. But the mental troll has already happened.

The team was taken aback by Bucky's actions once they got out of the lights. They saw him angry after fights before. But this was different. He had lost his mind, and he wasn't willing to talk or tell anybody what happened. And he was getting worse by the second that they had to lock him in the medical room so nobody more would get hurt. They had no clue what to do.

And desperate times call for desperate measures.

So here he was, shame and guilt eating him as you were, once again, showing him kindness he had never encountered before.

"I never wanted you to see that."

"I didn't want you to think that I could hurt you."

"Bucky.."

"I would never hurt you, I swear."

His voice got smaller with each word. It was why he never wanted you anywhere near this. so you wouldn't get scared and run away. So you wouldn't see what he looked like when he lost control. And today, he did, and you saw it.

The opponent's voice is still ringing in his ears. He was ruining you. Everyone could see it. You being here just proved it. Because if it hadn't been for him, you would have never stepped a foot in here. Maybe he was already hurting you.

"Bucky." Tears were starting to form in your eyes. You put the stuff down and put your hand on his cheek.

"You can never hurt me. Never."

It was painful to hear the person who became your source of safety and security, the one you relied on the most, think like this.

"The only person you are hurting is yourself, and I can't stand by and watch." It was time you told him the truth.

"You need to stop living these two versions of yourself. You need to stop hiding from me."

"I love you, Bucky. I love you more than I have loved anything in my life. I knew who you were when we met, and it didn't change anything. I still got to fall in love with you."

"Nothing you do is going to change that. I know you think that I won't be able to handle it, but I will, and I want to know. all of it. Everything."

"I don't want you to feel like you have to hide parts of yourself from me. like you have to be someone else. I love everything about you and everything that made you."

"I want you to be able to share stuff and talk about your day freely without thinking too much about it, without keeping parts that you think I won't like."

"I want to sit in the front row and cheer for my boyfriend as he beats people up. I want to get to brag about my strong man." That brought a small laugh from the both of you.

"Nothing is ever going to make me leave or hate you. Nothing. So whatever you think is going to drive me away, it won't. Never."

You meant every word you said. You didn't want to be in a one-sided relationship where Bucky felt like he couldn't be himself. No, you wanted to be his safe place. You wanted to be the person he came to, and poured his heart out. You wanted to take care of him. You wanted him to let you love him. all of him.

"I love you so much that I won't care if you turn out to be a secret assassin."

"You won't?"

"I will bring you the knives in the kitchens."

Bucky thought he couldn't fall in love with you more than he already was. But he was wrong.

Bucky could feel his eyes getting glassy. All his fears weren't real. You weren't going to run away and leave him. You wanted to do the thing he believed he could never have. You wanted to share his life with him. You were giving him something nobody ever allowed him. to be himself openly.

Bucky never thought he had good luck. It turned out he had all the good luck in you. And he couldn't be happier.

Bucky was glad they called you.

[hangeswif3]

PLEASE PART 2 OF RINDOS PREGNANT WIFE 🙏

Nerve wreck

Pairing: Rindou Haitani x pregnant!reader

Warning: pregnancy, strong language, the Haitani brothers are a warning by themselves.

Note: a bit more lore into pregnant!reader and Rin. My bf and I just broke up so this might be either good or bad.

U know the drill, English is not my first language so pls be nice. I love u all and thank u for reading, x.

You were walking around the house, cleaning a little bit. Trying to stay active was kinda difficult when every time you did something Rindou insisted on you resting. You didn’t complain though, you were being so spoiled that every time you wanted something he would run and get it for you.

It had been 3 weeks since the incident with his “co-workers.” You had had a big conversation about that, but ultimately you weren’t opposed to meet the people he spends most of his time with, you knew they were dangerous but so was your boyfriend, and he could keep you safe. Now he was out again, it was already nighttime but you couldn’t sleep so you got up and started to clean a little and move stuff around.

You were carrying a lamp around trying to figure out were to put it when you felt an excruciating pain in your belly, it was so strong that made you drop the lamp and cause it to shatter on the floor. You grabbed your belly and sat down, trying to breathe. 10 minutes passed when you felt the pain again, something wasn’t right.

You reached for your phone as you could and try to dial your boyfriend’s number. The pain was so strong that was causing you to have trouble breathing.

-

Rindou was in the car with Sanzu and Ran, Mikey had instructed them to follow around some gang members all day, to try and get some more information on their plans.

“Man, this idiots are dumb as fuck if they don’t know by now they’re being followed.” Said Sanzu, clearly annoyed by the task. “It’s not like we’re the most discreet fucking people.”

It was true though, they weren’t even trying to be discreet. They just wanted an excuse to kill them and get this over with.

But to be fair, the men were pretty stupid.

Ran was telling Sanzu how it would be better if he didn’t have bright pink hair, but Rindou just zoned out for a moment, his phone was vibrating in his pocket and he really had no idea who might be. The only people that called him to his personal phone were you and Ran, and half of those people were with him right now.

He couldn’t help the weird feeling in his chest when he saw your name on the screen, you never called him when he was working. So it had to be an emergency.

Without a second thought he responded.

“Are you okay?” Was the first thing he said, earning Ran’s attention, who shushed Sanzu and stared at his brother to try and understand what was going on.

“No, I… agh… the baby…” you said, barely able to talk. “There’s something wrong, Rin.”

“I…it’s okay… I’ll be there” Rindou wasn’t finding his words. He was feeling the most scared he had ever felt in his life. “We’ll be there.”

He looked at his brother, and his look of utter panic made him realize what was happening.

It was you.

“Stop the car.” Ran said, and Sanzu did it without a word, sensing the tension.

“Rindou, I’m scared.” You said almost crying.

“I-I’ll be there.” Stuttered Rindou, he could feel his heart pounding and his voice shaking.

Ran was noticing how scared his brother was, he was listening to the conversation so he grabbed the phone.

“Hey princess, it’s me.” He said with the calmest voice he could find.

“R-Ran?”

“The one and only” he said smiling “now, I know you’re scared but everything’s gonna be okay, alright? I need you to breathe for me and be ready at the front door okay? We’ll be there in 5.”

“O-okay, in 5” you repeated, trying to breathe.

“Yes, good girl. See you in a bit” was all he said before hanging up.

Ran turned to his brother.

“Man, you have to calm down.” He said serious.

“We have to go, I’ll drive.” Rindou said, trying to get out of the car.

“Hell no, you’re gonna kill us all.” Sanzu said from the drivers seat. “I’ll drive.”

He looked at Ran from the mirror and he only nodded, signaling Sanzu to start driving.

Sanzu remembered very well the was to Rindou’s girl’s house. He was driving as fast as he could (which was very fast for Sanzu), ignoring all the traffic signs and earning a bunch of honks and insults from other drivers. He was a surprisingly good driver.

The arrived at the house in a time record. Rindou got out of the car immediately and went to get you.

You were waiting at the front door, like Ran said. You were sitting on the floor holding your belly. You were crying but trying to appear brave.

Rindou tried his best to look calm for you. He helped you get up carefully and led you to the car.

“Are you okay?” He asked, once you were sitting by Ran.

“Y-yeah, I’m good.” You said, wincing from the pain.

“Let’s go” Rindou said and Sanzu started to drive as fast as he could but trying to be more careful.

Sanzu looked concentrated, for once, he wasn’t playing around.

The whole way to the hospital Rindou was trying to calm you down (and calm himself down as well) by giving you words of affirmation and rubbing your belly.

You arrived at the hospital and Ran was the first to get out, running to get a wheelchair. Rindou helped you get out of the car and get inside.

“She’s almost seven months pregnant, and is in a lot pf pain.” Rindou said hurriedly to the lady at the front desk.

A nurse quickly got you into a room to get checked out. Rindou was with you the whole time, holding your hand. By now you were fully crying, you were so scared.

“Well, let’s listen to the heart.” The doctor said, placing the medical instrument in your belly and listening carefully. “Sounds like everything’s okay here.” He said.

He ran some tests and finally got the ultrasound machine to take a look of the baby.

You were still holding Rindou’s hand, you were calmer now, but still nervous.

“Looks like everything’s okay with your baby.” He said.

Both you and Rindou seemed to be able to breathe once again. He smiled and kissed your forehead.

“So, everything’s okay?” Rindou asked.

“Yes, the pain she was experiencing are regular cramps. Many pregnant woman feel them through their pregnancies, but looks like your little girl is nice and healthy.” The doctor said.

“Girl?” You asked.

“Oh, you didn’t know?”

“We decided to wait but, you’re telling us we’re having a girl?” You said, laughing and crying at the same time.

“Im so sorry” said the doctor “but congratulations. I’ll leave you too alone now”

When the doctor left you and Rindou looked at each other.

“I guess we’re having a girl.” He said.

“Yeah, I guess we are.”

He smiled and kissed you.

Rindou left you in the room so you could change and he could tell Ran that everything was okay.

“Im having a girl.” Was the first thing he said to him.

Ran immediately knew that everything was fine.

“Hell yeah, I knew it!” He said before Rindou started explaining everything that happened.

Sanzu, who had been sitting by himself in the waiting room, finally decided to approach them.

“So, is she okay?” He said, trying to look like he wasn’t worried.

Rindou looked at him, surprised.

“Yeah, she’s okay.” He said, and Sanzu nodded. “Thank you for the, uh, ride.”

“Yeah, don’t even mention it.”

Both men stayed quiet for a while. Until you came out of the room, going directly to Sanzu.

“Thank you for everything, mister Haruchiyo.” You said, placing a small kiss on his cheek.

Sanzu stayed still, his face turning pink. Ran laughed at him while Rindou rolled his eyes, you took your boyfriends hand and walked to the front door.

“Our girl’s gonna have an amazing family.” You said, smiling.

[juppl]

𝕳𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖉 𝕭𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉

A Silver x F!Reader Tale (High Fantasy AU) |Prologue| |Part 1| |Part 2|

What if… the boy in your dreams became the princess that needed saving.

Prologue

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Another hot summer’s night graced the Queendom of Roses as a bustling street of music and laughter filled the air in celebration of a wealthy merchant’s return. A loud booming laugh rung through the tavern walls as men and women clinked glasses after just finishing another round of booze. “A good haul—best haul if I do say so myself!” A drunken man cheered as I he wrapped his arm around a tavern girl’s waist. “Aye! How could you call it that, this is an absolute blessing. After this trade, our descendants will be knee deep in our own riches to come!” A rowdy woman chimed in as she playfully nudged the man.

“Exactly! That’s why we can’t just stop here, we’ll travel even further! To the Shaftlands even!” A large bearded man exclaimed as he excitedly pointed to his map that had been laid crossed the table. The group of merchants and townsfolk cheered happily at the thought of even more possible wealth to come their way.

“YEAH!!”

“Yeah..!” A small shout interrupted their celebration causing them to glance around for the source. “Think of all the treasure we could find at the Coral Sea too—!” The childlike voice chimed again, small hands desperately reaching towards the top of the table to help the young girl up, this drawing the attention of the now surprised drunken folk. “(Y-Y/n)?!” The bearded man yelped before hastily scooping the little girl up and away from any drops of alcohol.

“Hey! I wanna look too!” You fussed as you began to repetitively beat at the old man’s arms and chest. A string of groans and laughs could be heard from behind as you were carried away up the tavern stairs. “Learn to keep her away from the adults.” “Be a better father why don’t’ya and keep a better eye on her!” They laughed and teased before returning back to their drinking and crude activities.

“Damn it (Y/n) what did I tell you about leaving your room past your bedtime—why aren’t you sleeping at your bedtime?!”

“I wanna be a pirate just like you! Argh Argh Argh!” You laughed maniacally as you jumped onto your bed while throwing your pillow at your father. He only sighed tiredly in response as he shoved the pillow back your way, knocking your small frame down easily. “I’m not a pirate I told you. I’m a merchant, they’re two different things little one.” “Nope!” You bounced back up again. “Daddy! I wanna go travel with you and get rich too! I wanna see the worldddd with you daddy!” You outstretched your arms to exaggerate the subject, causing you to fall back onto the bed.

The large man could only laugh at your antics, scooping you back up to toss you in the air. “Is that right? My strong little girl wants to become a merchant just like her father!” He happily shouted as he brought you back down to hug tightly. “But being a merchant is hard work, why not stay here at the tavern and help your mother. She needs her little knight to protect her from all the bad men when I’m gone for work.” He sighed as he began to tuck you in for bed for the second time tonight. But to his dismay, you jumped up again, banging your head against his in annoyance. “Oof—!!”

“I don’t wanna be a knight!! I’m not a boy! I wanna be a rich princess in a big castle with lots of food!” You exclaimed as your hands shot up assertively. Your father only hissed in pain, before trying to calm your restless attitude once again. “Not all knights are men you know, some are really strong women as well—“ “But I want to be a princess!” You shot back angrily before being forcefully tucked back into bed… again. “Yes yes, a princess. My strong, beautiful, princess. But to be a strong and beautiful princess, you’ll need all of your energy for the days to come. So, why don’t you head to bed so you can wake up in time for your mother’s big breakfast okay?” You simply nodded, growing a bit more tired as your eyes were feeling heavier with each passing second that went by.

This was alright, you’d get to see that pretty girl in your dreams anyways so it was a win-win in your opinion. Going to bed to see your best friend then waking up to be a rich princess was all you could ask for. Soon, you allowed your consciousness to drift away into your familiar dreamland. “Goodnight little one.”

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

“Princess!” You shouted as you ran towards the young (girl?) inside your dreams. Your small hands took hers in their own. “I missed you! Today my daddy got a lot of money from his work so now we’re gonna be rich!” You exclaimed as you basically bounced in joy. The other little child could only smile awkwardly at your rather eccentric behavior. “Um, that’s nice I suppose. B-But why am I princess?” They asked in a soft tone that seemed a bit shy. You only blinked in response momentarily before clasping their hands tightly.

“Because you’re as pretty as one! And all girls should be princesses because they all deserve to be happy and rich. Especially you, because you’re my best friend!” You happily shouted as you danced with their hands in your own still. A small rosy tint enveloped their cheeks at your explanation as they tried to keep up with your movements. “I-I’m not a girl though…” They whimpered out shyly almost seeming to be embarrassed by admitting the fact of their gender. This leaving you stunned and absolutely shell shocked.

“You’re not a girl!? B-But you’re so pretty! Look at your pretty long silver hair! And your pretty eyes! And you’re shorter than me too!” You frantically tried to make reason of the situation, mostly to yourself. Now knowing that your dream friend that you’ve been seeing for a while was in fact NOT another little girl left you embarrassed yourself. The little boy huffed at your reasonings and swatted your hands away, “my hair isn’t that much longer than yours, a-and my father says that I’ll grow up to be a strong young man that’ll be taller than him!” You scoffed at his claims, thinking it impossible on how this short boy could ever surpass your own height now. “Yeah right! You’re as dainty as a girl, calling you princess wouldn’t be a stretch even if you are a boy.” You teased which cause him to flare his cheeks up a bit. “Yeah well at least I’m closer to being one than you! You look and act even more like a boy than me! No way you could be a princess.” He huffed in response, little to his knowledge this shattered your world and sent you into a downwards spiral…

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

“(Y/n)!! Come down and help me, stop hiding away in your room so late in the morning!” Your mother called out for you as she tried to handle the busy tavern’s morning rush. You begrudgingly dragged your feet down the steps, earning a few laughs and teasing comments at your drowsy state. “If it isn’t sleeping beauty, or might I say sleeping burly with how much of a man you’re looking today.” Your older aunt Rosemary cackled at her own joke, as if finding herself the most amusing thing around here. “Leave her be, you’re just going to upset her already tired mood.” Your mother frowned as she bumped her sister with her hip while she passed by. “Yeah when are you going to stop with the man jokes, don’t you know they get old after the first three times?” You grumbled back as you grabbed at any random booze you spotted first.

“Really?! Drinking this early? You haven’t even eaten anything yet!” Your mother howled in disbelief, clutching her heart as if she were in pain. She was always one for the dramatics, but caring nonetheless. “It’s fine, I’m just a little hot. Need something to cool me off.” But to your dismay, the bottle was snatched right from your fingertips leading to a long sigh. “Alright alright, I’m eating see. Bread, in my hands.” You said tiredly as you grabbed at a slice of toast from your aunt’s plate. “Good, then help me take some orders. Customers are coming in by the minute.” You responded with a hum as you took more off of your aunt’s plate, not as if it mattered to how she paid more attention to her mug of booze. “Best get to cleaning too, I’ve seen that one hogging that table as a bed for quite some time.” Aunt Rose gestured towards a small table that was surprisingly occupied by only one man. Poor thing probably already got robbed by now.

After scarfing down one last egg, you tied your apron tighter around your waist before making your way towards him. “Hey we don’t give naps for free, you want a bed you gotta pay for one.” You scoffed as you nudged him with the end of a broom. To no avail did he seem to wake up or stir though, weird, was he dead? Curious, you gently rolled him to the side a bit before jumping back from a startled yelp. The cloaked man that was once sleeping jolted violently from his slumber and yelped in surprise from being moved so suddenly. His shocked aurora eyes meeting yours in the process. You thought they were… pretty?

[thedreamlessnights]

Ranking the BG3 Companions

Recently finished the epilogue and wanted to give my final opinions ❤️

#1.) Astarion: A murder-hungry vampire out for revenge; a constant mask of seduction covering a traumatic past. Someone who slowly grows to trust you over time, and opens up to you. Is it any surprise I love him? He’s complex, layered, and has so much growth if given the chance. I love him.

#1.) Gale: What can I say? Men with brown hair and big brown eyes are my weakness. Gale is socially-awkward but so charming, full of dry humor, and ridiculously endearing. I mean, he cooks for you. He has a pet tressym and writes poetry. He has the most over-complicated revival I’ve ever seen. I can and will kill Mystra for him. I love him.

#1.) Halsin: My dream man. He’s incredibly respectful, extremely communicative, and kind. He whittles ducks, for god’s sake - and can transform into a giant bear to cuddle with. He’s passionate, very unsubtle about his feelings, and wants to make the world a better place. I love him.

#1.) Jaheira: First of all, she’s a MILF. Second of all, she has the greatest sense of humor. I’ve called her old so many times because she genuinely finds it hilarious. She even gives approvals for that! She may hate being wrong, but if you’re honest with her, she will admit and amend her mistakes. I love her.

#1.) Karlach: Of course she’s #1. Have you seen her? She’s a tiefling golden retriever, and she’s so much more than that. She is fierce, strong, and kind, even in the shittiest of scenarios. She hardened herself to survive what she went through, but she still seeks out joy. She could lift me over her shoulder and carry me to safety <3 I would give her the world. I love her.

#1.) Lae’zel: So many people misunderstand Lae’zel because they never put in any effort to get to know her, and it breaks my heart. She starts off the game terrified. She tries with all her might to get you and the camp to the only cure she knows. She is smart, well-disciplined, and grows so much if you just give her a chance. I love her.

#1.) Minsc: Minsc is perfect. He’s always trying his best. He has a miniature giant space hamster that he always carries around and both trusts and respects like no other. He’s thoughtful, brave, and an excellent fighter. Look in the dictionary for the word ‘himbo,’ it’ll be a picture of Minsc. I love him.

#1.) Shadowheart: Shadowheart is so good to her core that Shar had to essentially put an ‘only evil thoughts’ shock collar on her. She’s incredibly sweet, loves animals, and hates needless cruelty even after all that brainwashing. She’s god’s favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. I can and will kill Shar for her. I love her.

#1.) Wyll: Not only does he have the best entrance in the game, but he’s the pure definition of a charming hero. Wyll is passionate and constantly determined despite the odds and despite the circumstances. He has a cheesy pose he does every time he says his hero name. He’s unexpectedly snarky. He’s a true romantic, and even dances with you. I can and will kill Mizora for him. I love him.

[justmeinadaze]

Thinkin bout that sure, strong Steve with the baseball bat rn.

What if reader had a scary encounter on her way home and big strong Steve came to the rescue 👀

I changed this around a bit. I hope that ok. Stevie is still being protective with his bat though <3.

Watch A Few Movies, Take A Few Notes

Warnings: Reader gets hurt and Steve saves the day; they are shooting a Scream-esc scene so there's that

Word Count: 1965

Followup to this request

“C-Carter?”, you squeak as you step out of the bedroom and look down the hallway. Everything in the house is silent. “Carter!”

“Nina?”, James asks groggily before seeing your worried face and throwing off the blanket to come check on you. “What’s wrong?”

“Carter heard a noise and went to check it out. H-H-He hasn’t come back, James.”

As you cry he wraps his arms around you and holds you to his chest. 

“Fucking idiot. Always has to play hero. You were right you know? Sometimes that man leads dick first before using his fucking brain.”

You stiffen in his hold before taking a step back as your wide eyes meet his.

“What?”

“I never told you that. I said it to Rose when we were hanging out before she…”

Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing a heavy exhale. 

“Fuck. I was really hoping you’d be the one to make it through this.”

As the metalhead lunges forward, you hastily slide out of his way and run down the stairs as fast as your feet can carry you. 

“Carter! Carter, please! Where are you!?”

Your back hit something hard and you abruptly turned coming face to face with the clown mask that had been haunting your nightmares. You screamed trying to run but barreled straight into James’s chest as his arms trapped you tightly to him holding you in place. 

“Where are you going, sweetheart? The fun’s just beginning.”

Tears run down your face as the man in front of you removes his mask and you heart breaks as Carter’s angry, manic eyes find your own. 

“Cut! Good job, guys.”, the director compliments as Eddie releases his hold around you and you watch as Steve’s eyes immediately soften to the regular kindness you’re used to seeing within them. “Why don’t you guys take a break and we’ll come back in twenty after we have everything set up.”

Both boys nod as they walk ahead of you towards the catering cart as you trail behind. Since your evening with them they hadn’t really interacted with you outside of set and you knew that was your fault. They had invited you over a few times since, asked you to dinner, and asked you on so many different dates but each time you declined. Truth of the matter was you were scared. You liked them very much, wanting to spend more time with them off set and outside of the bedroom but this was new territory for you. 

“I miss you guys.”, you mumble as you fiddle with some of the snacks in front of you. 

“Hm. Not very much since you either don’t return our calls or tell us you’re busy when we invite you somewhere.”, Steve sighs as his eyes remain downcast. 

“And your still with Captain Asshole.”, Eddie adds with a tone filled with disgust. 

“He’s my boyfriend—”

“Didn’t seem to bother you when you came over, princess.”

Finally turning to face you, Steve tosses what he grabbed back onto the table. 

“Look, if you wanted what happened to be a onetime thing, that’s fine. We’re big boys, Y/N, we can handle that. That’s all most women want from us anyway; together or separate.”

“Steve…”

“But you just disappearing and ignoring us like you did. Now WE feel like the disgusting whores.”

“Steve, Eddie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…I just…I’m so confused and…”

Nodding, he cut you off by walking away from you as his friend followed. 

****

20min Later

“Y/N, are you alright?”, the director asks as you fly onto the set with tears in your eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just ready to do these scenes.”

“Babe—”

“I’M FINE, ALEX! L-Let’s just do this, ok.”

Both men’s stares penetrate your body as you place yourself in front of Eddie who wraps his arms lightly around you. 

“Are you ok? You’re shaking.”, the metalhead asks with genuine concern. 

“Yeah because two serial killers are about to threaten me. I’m in the right headspace. Just do your fucking jobs and scare the hell out of me.”

“Did something happen, honey?”

“Oh, I’m honey again, Steven? I thought I was the bitch that used you and made you feel like a whore.”

Even though only they could hear you, everyone on set could feel the intense energy radiating from the three of you as you glared at the man in front of you.

“A-Action.”

Amber hues search your face as his lips form into a thin line before a creepy smile spread across his face. 

“Surprised, Nina? I thought we’d be married with six kids before you finally figured it out. James is more of a pessimist than I am. He thought you never would.”, Carter laughed, tossing the mask to the side.

“W-Why?”

“Why?”, he mocks making you angry. Reaching for your jaw, you glare up at him as he tilts your face till your almost nose to nose. “Control that attitude, little girl.”

Moving his fingers to your hair, he yanks you further into the living room and pushes you against the wall making you wince. 

“I’ve been your best friend for years, Nina. I loved you since the moment I saw you.” You jumped as he slammed his hand into the space beside your head. 

“That hard, Harrington? He’s trying to control himself from not just pounding into you. Your little pussy is driving him crazy.”

Your eye lids flutter as you shrink under his stare. 

“But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough right? JESUS! I would have worshipped the fucking ground you walked on! All of this, Nina, is your fault! It took us killing all your friends and that stupid fucking asshole from the diner who tried to take what was MINE! YOU’RE MINE!”

“I’m sorry…”

James came up to your other side and rest his forearm inches from your head. 

“I bet you are. Bet now you’d do anything for him, huh? Pfft, I told you just let her go, Carter. We can scare up something better especially once we’re famous, dude.”

“James, why did YOU do this? You were my friend! One of my closest!”

“Really? One of your closest? FUCK. OFF!”, he growled in your ear. “I was just someone for you and your friends to laugh at. Carter here is my only true friend. He knows what I’ve been through. You could have been a part of that! But no…all that matters is image right?”

“No! No, I swear. I don’t care about that! You two mean the world to me!” His palm against your chest pushes you back against the wall. “There is some part of you both that understands! James, I never laughed at you. I laughed with you. You’re so funny and I love talking to you about music and-and I don’t know fucking everything! And Carter, you’re so sweet and protective. I always cared about you! I didn’t want to lose you!”

“You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart, and you’re definitely not a whore. You’re special. You deserve so much better.”

Carter’s eyes blink back frustrated tears as his hand reaches out to caress your face. 

You wince and they notice. Steve’s fingers extended out to take a look but you bobbed your head out of his reach. Eddie gripped your jaw as both men stood up straighter and the other boy licked his thumb before trying to wipe the makeup from your cheek. 

“Gentlemen? What’s going on?”, the director called. 

Along your cheek bone, a bruise was starting to form slightly above the redness that circled it. Their eyes softened as they let you go but remained huddled around you. 

“I told him I wanted to break up…”

That was all you needed to say before their faces hardened and Steve turned silently walking past the director who kept calling his name as you and Eddie trailed after him.

***

“Steve, wait.”

He didn’t hear you; he was a man on a mission. Knocking on the dressing room door with the bat in his hand, he waited. 

“I’m busy! I still have 30 minutes till I need to be fucking anywhere!”

As Steve stepped back, Eddie gripped your shoulders and pulled you to the side out of the way. You jumped when his shoe connected with the door and it flew open. 

“What the fuck?!”, Ryan shouted as he got to his feet. 

“That’s a good question. What the fuck? What the fuck kind of asshole hits his girlfriend?”

“Ex, Harrington.”

“Oh, my fault. That’s right, Eddie, thank you.”

“Fuck you both. That bitch wants to leave, she can!”

Steve swings the bat into the mirror inches from Ryan causing it to shatter as your ex jumps back. 

“Call her a name again.”

“L-Look, what do you guys want?”, he stutters. “You want her? Fuck, you can have her. I-I-I don’t care. Money? Drugs?”

“We had her already, Ryan, and we’d like to stay with her if she’ll have us.” Your ex’s eyes widen as he glances your way. “Oh, she didn’t tell you?”

“She said she loved someone else. She didn’t say who.”, he growled. “Or how many, you fucking whore.”

The bat in Steve’s hand hits a framed poster behind the man as he swings again. Eddie leans forward and grabs his collar shoving the man against the wall. 

“What we want, Ryan, is an apology.”

“Fuck you.”

He cowers as the bat comes within inches of his face into the wall beside him making him scream. 

“Not for us, you idiot. Y/N.”, Eddie sighed in frustration as he rolled his eyes. 

Ryan’s own eyes glance towards you but when he doesn’t say anything the metalhead slaps him hard. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N! God damn it!”

“Sorry for what?”, Steve encourages. 

“For hitting you.”

He grunts as ringed fingers slap him again.

“Louder!”

“I’m sorry for slapping the shit out of you, Y/N! I’m so fucking sorry!”

Steve steps towards him placing the bat against his chest.

“If you come near her again…this bat won’t just be breaking your furniture. Do you understand me?”

Ryan nods as both boys grin, Steve reaching for your hand and heading out the door as Eddie follows. 

***

Eddie plopped down beside you on their couch making you flinch when he placed the icepack on your face.

“Oh, you’re fine.”, he teases.

“I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Take care of wounds on your face? Well shit, baby, I mastered in it. It’s really easy, you just—”

“No, you dork.”, you giggle. “I’ve never… been in a shared relationship but…I want to be. I want to be with you two. I—”

“He said you said you loved someone else. Is that true? Do you love us?”, Steve cut you off, smirking when you nod. “Good because we love you to.”

Raising your eyebrows, you glance towards Eddie whose smile widens. 

“I’m sorry I made you guys feel the way you felt. I didn’t mean to but I swear when I came over here it wasn’t to use you to feel better or for it to be a one-time thing. I’ve always felt safe with you both.”

“Mmmhmm. Is that why you got all hot and bothered during our scene today?”

Your jaw drops in faux shock and the metalhead mimics your reaction mockingly. 

“I was not!”

“Suuuuure. Come on, honey. That’s the best part about shooting scenes like that. Playing the role of someone you’re not in a situation that you would never be in…”

“But if you were, you’d rather it be with someone you trust who has your best interest in mind.”, Eddie adds as they both grin wickedly your way. 

“What do you think, honey? Wanna do that scene again but with a spin?”

[sharararararara]

Yandere Aemond Targaryen x Older sister reader

WARNING: MENTIONS OF RAPE(not to the reader but to an oc of mine), AEGON BEING WEIRD, Mentions of children getting married, angst( a little?)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: SORRY FOR TAKING THIS LONG TO MAKE THIS, AND I'M SORRY FOR NOT PUTTING THAT MUCH YANDERE AEMOND, BUT I PROMISE YOU THERE WILL BE MORE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER.

(Chapter 1)

(Chapter 2)

CHAPTER 3

Helaena there you are! Helaena looked at you as you ran toward her, you sat beside your sister who was looking at a bug she had just found.

I don't think it can see... Said Helaena, Why? You asked, slowly getting more curious about the bug she was holding, she did not answer your question, just simply staring at you.

I- um... I mean if you don't want to tell me then it's fine. You spoke, you never really understood why Helaena never talked clearly, She liked to speak in riddles, never giving the real meaning behind them. You never really cared, you sometimes have fun trying to find out what her riddle meant, it was like a game to you.

You just kept quiet and continued to observe the insect, you loved the time you spent with your sister, even though she never really talked, it was still calming. Aegon did not deserve Helaena, you knew what Aegon does with the maids, and you felt disgusted by him. You don't even want to think what he might do to your sister. Sometimes you wish that it was Jace instead of Aegon, sure Jace can be a bully sometimes, like what he does to Aemond, but you still think he would treat Helaena better than Aegon.

Suddenly a maid ran towards you and Heleana, Princess Helaena your Mother is calling you, said the maid in a hurry.

Helaena sighed, not wanting to go, yet she did not have a choice. She stood up and went to the maid, both of them leaving you behind.

A frown was on your face as you watched them walk away, you were alone again, and you did not have anyone to talk to, and surely you did not want to talk to Aegon, he would be probably drunk or harassing the maids again, and you could not really talk to Aemond since you did not really know where he is, so it's only you and yourself.

You sighed as you stood up, dusting off the dust from your dress. Why not a walk around the halls? you said to yourself as you started to walk.

You had a dragon, named Larix, but you were not allowed to fly on him yet since he is a big dragon, and you might get hurt or worse die, you think that was a stupid rule that your parents made for you since you already flew on him once when you claimed him, but I guess you did not have a choice, it's either waiting until your old enough or will never ride him.

Your parents were protective of you, when they found out that you claimed a dragon they went ballistic, they complained that the dragon was too dangerous for a little child like you, yet they still arranged a marriage between their daughter to their son, even though they are still children, funny right? And sooner or later Aegon will bed Heleana, which is disgusting because they are still children. You felt bad for Helaena and Aegon, even after what Aegon did, you still felt bad for him being forced to marry his sister.

But what can you do? They are Targaryen, it's normal for their house, yet it still is messed up.

Sooner or later, you will get betrothed to some man, you do not really want to get married yet, but what can you do?

You pray to the Gods that the man your parents will betrothed you to someone nice and respectful, and not some old lord who only wants to bed little girls and carry his heirs.

Sometimes you wish that women get the same respect as men in this world, women in this are known as "weak" or "fragile" and only used for pleasure and to carry heirs. They say "women can't rule a kingdom", saying that only a man can, since they are "strong" or "powerful".

When a woman sleeps with a man, they call her a whore, but when a man sleeps with a thousand people, no one blinks an eye.

You had a friend before, from a wealthy house, her name was Esther, she was 14 years old when her father betrothed her to some lord.

At first, she thought that he was nice, but on their wedding night, that lord raped her, she pleaded for him to stop, yet he did not listen.

She died from giving birth to her son, her husband did not care, only remarrying someone else.

You missed Esther, she was your only friend. The last time you saw her was when she visited you, she was 6 months pregnant, she had a fake smile on, hiding her true emotions.

You remembered when you and her were alone in your chamber, she cried in your arms, telling you about how her husband beat her every day when she didn't follow his orders. You were in rage when she told you that, you wanted to speak to her husband, but she pleaded you not to, saying she would only get beat up more.

You remembered how much you cried when you received the letter from her mother, telling you that Esther, your friend, died last night while giving birth to her son.

You never forgot her, and you will never will. She was a good friend, and you wish you could get revenge on her husband for what he did.

You wanted to shout at her father, for making her marry that piece of shit, and for not believing her when she told him about what he was doing to her.

[unohanabbygirl]

Hiding in plain sight pt 2

So I’ve decided to continue this drabble and turn it into a complete fic. In the meantime while I plan the long version please enjoy this sneak peek.

Warnings: mention of past non con

- - -

The knights give Luke a choice, come with them of his own volition or be taken by force. Everything in Luke is screaming at him to fight back, to rage that this was all a big mistake. However, as he felt Osferth tremble in his arms like a leaf, unconsciously letting out the scent of frightened omega he knew what choice he had to make.

As the men escort them out Luke keeps a tight hold on his son, making sure to assure him that everything will be fine in the end. Humming a soft melody that his own mother once sang to him whenever he awoke from one of his many childhood nightmares.

Luke doesn’t know if his words are meant to comfort Osferth or himself at this point. All he knows is that his pup calms down considerably, letting out little whimpers as he buries his face in Luke’s neck as if trying to hide from the strange men.

They make it to a small carriage and are pushed inside. Luke hisses at one of the knights as they hold onto Osferth’s hip on the guise of ‘helping him’

Osferth goes still at the touch and his scent rottens, letting out a smell similar to spoiled meat. He’s a newly flowered omega, a late bloomer whose only interaction with an alpha since his presentation has been his great grandsire during his short visits. Corlys is much older and not as strong as he once was, his scent is no where near as powerful as it was a decade ago.

The man laughs at the protective stance Luke takes, calling him a weak bitch and slamming the carriage door in his face, almost getting his fingers caught in the door.

The omegas can hear the mocking laughter and quips about weak whoring omegas from the men as they prepare to take off.

Luke hugs his son, still shook by the Knights unwanted touch. Osferth was scared and Overwhelmed and confused. Luke never felt like such a failure as his precious pup began to sob.

He always tried his best to educate Osferth, making sure to never shy away from the topic of dynamics, especially what’s its like to live as an omega. The uncomfortable heats, enhanced sense of smell, and physical changes in your body as it now sees you a vessel to carry children were all things he was open and honest about.

His son hadn’t presented until the year before at sixteen, even later than his mother as it was normal for presentation to occur around twelve or thirteen.

Luke always saw the signs though, the way Osferth never liked to roughhouse with the other pups in their old village, his sensitive and emotionally vulnerable nature, how he’d rather cuddle and chat with Luke instead of going out and being adventurous.

He hated any and all things violent no matter what they were. Corlys would often bring storybooks as gifts during his visits as Osferth greatly enjoyed reading. He usually brung tales of brave knights and bloody battles, yet his great grandson shed away from the frightening fables.

On a random visit one day mid spring Corlys came with five books in tow once again. But this time the tales were of fae like creatures and beautiful princesses. Osferth enjoyed them greatly, face lighting up as he read the words aloud while Corlys listened happily and Luke prepared dinner.

All omegas weren’t like that. Some did prefer fighting and dreamed of being war heroes, but it was most common for them to be softer and less inclined to harsh lifestyles.

Luke himself had been that way, shy and soft, despising the heavy weight of a sword no matter if it was wooden or steel. The only time he had physically hurt another was that night in Driftmark.

The only reason no one ever took note of his lack of alpha characteristics was because his mother and father were alphas just as both their parents before them. However, his true father Ser Harwin had been a beta with an omega mother. A fact no one took into consideration when thinking of Luke’s second gender, sweeping the truth under the rug as if that would make it go away.

Had his mother acknowledged his true sire and see his actions for what they truly were rather than lying to herself perhaps things would’ve worked out differently. Perhaps she would’ve thought harder before agreeing to send him to Lord Borros shitty castle.

“You will be welcomed, you have Baratheon blood from your grandmother Rhaenys.” She said softly, the look in her eyes betraying her own words.

He would’ve never been held down as Aemond forced his knot inside of him. Grunting in his ear like a crazed animal as he used the blood from Luke’s stolen maiden head as lube.

Luke’s jaw clenched as his fists curled up in anger. After all these years he felt nothing but hatred for Aemond. Doing what he did to him then leaving without a second glance like Luke was a worthless whore.

Sometimes he wondered how he could look at his son, the spitting image of his cruel sire yet have his chest fill with warmth. He met other omegas in the past years who were in similar situations to himself, raped and left with a child. They all loved their children dearly, but couldn’t stand look at them as they served as a permanent reminder.

Luke gently touched Osferth’s cheek, patting it lovingly as he whispered that everything would be just fine and they would return home as soon as possible.

The carriage took off with Osferth shedding a single tear as the view of the home he lived in for most of his life and housed so many happy memories disappeared into the distance.

“Mother, please tell me what’s going on. What do these men want with us?” Osferth cried.

Luke bit his trembling lip, knowing that he could no long lie to his babe. He stupidly thought he could hide Osferth from the truth forever, allow for him to live a normal peaceful life without the judgmental stares and inhumane treatment of those deemed to be bastards.

The blanket of legitimacy Corlys placed over him would mean nothing to a court of vipers, regardless of it was his mothers court now.

“There is much I have never told you my love. You may be upset now, but please remember that my intentions have always been protect you.” Luke confessed as he held Osferth’s hand to his beating heart.

All he could do was hope his love didn’t resent him after.

[liliansun]

how to piss the boys off so they fuck me dumb 🥴

i’ll start first w suggestions 😛🥴 (minors dni!!!)

mark : embarrass him. and i don’t mean like say he shit himself last week or that he accidentally put on your thong half asleep after practice one night. i mean like get drunk,, be around his friends,, when they start talking about their sizes (bc they too are drunk) flirt w them passively. say you bet jeno is probably the biggest in the room. talk about the other men you’ve been ‘with’ even if you know none of them compare to mark and he’ll get pissed and he’ll drag you off when you’re alone and fuck all those lil silly thoughts out of your head. ‘you really want to tell me you think jeno can fuck you like this? you really got some sense of humor. bet he can’t make you cum the way i can.’

renjun : irritate him. sexually frustrate him. piss him off and blue ball him. tell him he’s not getting any because haechan is in the room and you don’t wanna wake poor hyuckie up and he’ll loose all restraint. ‘who gives a fuck what haechan does or doesn’t hear, he’s a perv anyway, he’ll probably enjoy hearing how wet you get for me. why don’t we give him a show, hm? i’m not asking, i’m giving you a warning.’

jeno : flirt with the boys in front of him. i read something like this (shout out to the angel who wrote it bc i can’t think of who it was or the title was but it was jeno getting pissed bc oc spilled water on jaem’s lap and offered to clean him up. IF YALL READ IT YALL KNOW.) esp jaem,, ask jaem to flex his big strong arms,, talk about how buff he’s been getting and complement him on his work in the gym. jeno will embody silent anger. he’ll wait till you’re unaware of your guard being down to make his claim over you. fucking you with no care of who is hearing. ‘you think he’s so fucking strong, huh? do you think he can fuck you like i can? he can’t fuck you while holding your pathetic ass up against the wall. he won’t make you make a mess on his cock like i can.’ (he’ll be a lil mouthy and a bit degrading..but that’s the fun part.)

haechan : game with him and be the stereotypical hot gamer girl every boy has wet dreams for. unknowingly (knowingly) flirt w the boys on the mic and tease them and he’ll get fed up. he knows boys like them,, he was once a boy like them till he met you. and he’ll waste no time to hop offline to fuck you over the desk while forcing you to continue to play the game with the headset on. ‘you want to be a lil gamer slut? go ahead and continue playing with your audience while i make sure to remind you who you belong to, pretty girl. they’ll never touch you like i do,, they’ll never fuck you like i can.’

jaemin : he’s rarely the one to get mad,, especially at you. but when one of his superiors makes a pass at you and you do nothing but laugh it off? yeah, he’s pissed. pissed they think they can even pull a girl like you and pissed you let them think they had a chance. he’s pushing your panties aside with you bent over the sink in the bathroom, scissoring you without a care in the world as he watches you drip down to his wrist. ‘such a shame they think they’ll ever get to see you like this, but you don’t mind letting them think that, do you princess?’ just before he’s plowing his cock into you while making you watch him fuck you from behind in the foggy bathroom mirror.

(perhaps i got carried away.)