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writingastory · 8 days ago

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Headcanons: The Morning After

Prompt: "It’s the first time they’ve woken up together in the same bed, and one partner is mesmerized by the other’s sleeping face—softly watching them wake up, still sleepy and a little disoriented."

Pairings: Xavier x fem!reader; Zayne x fem!reader; Rafayel x fem!reader; Sylus x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, suggestive thingies

Genre: "Normal" AU (no Evol, no Wanderers - just normal life)

A/N: I originally wanted to write some angsty, but couldn't bring myself to it. Life's hard enough, let's enjoy some fluff. Hope you enjoy! 💕

🌟 Xavier was still fast asleep by the time you woke up. The sun was tickling your nose in a way it usually did not - and it took you a moment to realize why it felt so strange. You were not in your bed... or your room for that matter.

🌟 Looking around, you found your clothes strewn about the room - and your boyfriend in bed, right by your side, under the blankets. Naked. Just like you.

🌟 A pleasant shiver ran up your spine, images of the night before flickering through your mind. His touches, his kisses - the way you two entangled under the sheets, and became one...

🌟 You smiled and traced the light marks on your skin. Xavier stirred lightly next to you and you couldn't help snuggling into his back, leaving gentle kisses on the back of his neck. Your fingers traced his spine with a feather-light touch, before continuing to draw invisible patterns into his skin.

🌟 He stirred again and rolled onto his other side, facing you. He blinked a few times and scrunched his nose cutely as the light hit his eyes. You giggled and kissed his nose. "Good morning," you whispered, cupping his face gently. He hummed in response, a small smile forming on his lips.

🌟 Xavier was far from ready to start his day. He scooted closer to you and pushed you onto your back slowly, snuggling into your side, his face hidden in your neck as his arms engulfed you carefully - as if you were a precious treasure that would break if he used too much force. His lips found your collarbone, planting soft kisses on the warm skin there.

🌟 "Good morning, indeed..." he mumbled between kisses, his hand finding your thigh, pulling it over his hips to lock you together once more. His one hand gripped your knee to hold your leg in place as his other snaked around the back of your neck to keep you close to him, stealing kiss after kiss from you, each one deeper and more intimate than the one before - and you suddenly had the feeling that you would not leave that bed for a couple more hours...

❄️ Zayne woke up before sunrise - 5 AM sharp, as he did every single day. His internal clock was as precise as a Swiss watch. He jolted slightly as he felt movements next to him; it was a strange feeling to share the bed. The smallest of smiles graced his lips as his eyes fell onto your form in the dim light of your shared bedroom, buried underneath the many blankets.

❄️ He rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, his head resting on his hand comfortably. Zayne watched you in silence, enjoying the serenity of the moment. He was in no hurry. You two had been dating for months and decided to go on a last-minute vacation in Snowcrest. Away from friends, family - and work. A well deserved break from life that had gotten just a tad too hectic lately.

❄️ Zayne just loved spending time with you. He had invited you on this vacation for this very reason. You two becoming intimate was not planned - but not unwelcome either. It was simply the perfect addition to a perfect day.

❄️ He scooted closer carefully, trying not to wake you up. He just needed to be closer to you now, feeling your soft skin under his fingertips once again...

❄️ You stirred a bit as his fingers trailed over your exposed neck and shoulders, reaching the edge of the blanket. Slowly, he pushed them off your form, small goosebumps appearing on your warm skin. Maybe it was selfish - he should let you rest for however long you needed to - but...

❄️ His lips followed the path his fingers forged a few moments earlier, leaving tender, loving kisses. He felt your stir once more before your opened your eyes, smiling fondly. "Hey..." your voice was hoarse, still thick from sleep. "Hey," he answered quietly, the tiniest smirk forming on his lips. "What time is it?"

❄️ "Probably around 5 AM," Zayne answered, his lips reaching the small dip between your collarbones. You hummed, your eyes falling shut again. "Why are you awake already? I thought we're on vacation?" A chuckle left your lips, and Zayne continued planting kisses on your soft skin. "We are," he answered, slowly rolling on top of you again. "I just... need another taste."

🎨 The air flowing into the room was fresh and cool, carrying a salty taste from the sea. The long white curtains danced in the light wind, the sunlight streaming through the opened windows. You groaned a bit at the sudden coolness, only then feeling the weight on your back. Rafayel clung to you, snoozing happily, his head resting between your shoulders, his arms tightly wrapped around you.

🎨 He mumbled something incomprehensible and nuzzled your skin gently, littering sleepy kisses over your back. His hands shamelessly started wandering along your body, quickly finding and settling on your breasts, squeezing them gently.

🎨 "Good morning?" you chuckled lightly, not minding the needy fondling. "It is a good morning," he answered, his grin audible in his words, his hands squeezing your mounts again as if agreeing to his statement.

🎨 "Stop that," you giggled, trying to wiggle away from him - unsuccessfully. He deliberately pinned you down with a chuckle, his lips attacking your shoulder and neck. "Why would I? The noises you make are just so cute~"

🎨 He was relentless in his attacks, his kisses turning sultrier and sloppier with every passing minute. "Say," he groaned, pressing his hips against your behind lustfully, "this is not just a vivid dream, is it? And last night..."

🎨 You hummed in pleasure, thinking about the passionate moments you two had shared. "I don't think so," you answered with a light smirk, finally able to roll onto your back. He was above you immediately, his eyes filled with need and longing, as if he was still not sure if you were really there or just a cruel trick his mind was playing on him.

🎨 His lips found yours in a sweet kiss, filled with adoration and gentleness. He looked down at you again before stealing another kiss - the second of many many more that day.

💢 Usually, Sylus was a night-owl, and sleeping during the day. However, after your first time making love... he couldn't bring himself to leave the bed, and so he found himself between the sheets, with you in his arms. His fingers drew lazy patterns into your skin absentmindedly.

💢 Your head rested on his chest as you snoozed peacefully, fully content and safe in his strong and warm embrace. He was so sweet. So gentle. So loving. And now, with the way he held you, sleep had a tight grip on you. You refused to wake up and leave your cocoon of warmth and comfort.

💢 Eventually though, your mind was slowly pulled back to reality, your lids fluttering a few times as you woke up. "Good morning, kitten," he whispered, his deep voice filling the silence in the best way possible. You looked up at him slowly, only then realizing that he was, in fact, still there with you.

💢 "Morning..." you mumbled, rubbing your eyes gently. "Don't you have work...?" You yawned, propping yourself up slowly to look down at him. Sylus shrugged in response, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I can leave, if you want."

💢 You frowned and snuggled back into his side. "No," you said firmly, wrapping yourself around him slowly. "I was just confused for a second."

💢 He chuckled a bit, wrapping his arms around your form again. "That's what I thought," he smiled, kissing your forehead gently. "Luke and Kieran can deal with whatever's going on today. I'm not leaving this bed until you kick me out."

💢 You quirked a brow, grinning slightly. "Is that a promise?" you asked, nuzzling his neck gently before placing a kiss on his skin, right where his pulse was thrumming. Sylus hummed deeply and closed his eyes, pushing his head back and exposing his neck to you and your advances. You grinned and nibbled his skin, carefully at first... but it didn't take long for you to full-on attack his neck with kisses and love-bites. "Kitten," he droned, rolling onto his back with you on top of him, "I hope you intend to finish what you started."

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yeagersss · 11 days ago

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Sukuna x f!Reader

In which Sukuna brings home child Uraume — 1

next —>

You rubbed your eyes in disbelief as you stared at the child hiding behind your husband's legs and peaking at you.

Sukuna didn't pay attention to your questioning stare, he simply sauntered in to your shared home and tossed the meat he had hunted on the table. As if it was just an average day for the two of you.

Except it wasn't because there was a child right next to him.

"Um... Love?" You questioned softly.

"What?" He grunted.

"Mind telling me who... that is?"

Sukuna crossed his upper arms while resting his lower on his hips. He shrugged. "Our ice house is no more. This child can create ice so I brought them home."

Of course he did. Leave it to your husband to replace an actual functioning cooler with a literal child.

Speaking of a cooler...

"The icehouse is broken? I swear it was perfectly fine when I went there this morning..." You mused.

But a quick glance outside the window confirmed that it was indeed broken. Crushed by a tree and blood splattered everywhere from the meat stored inside of it.

And just one look at the fallen tree, you can tell what—no, who was responsible for this destruction. There was a large, clean cut right at its base.

You turned to your husband with an accusing frown but he opted to not look at you. He knows that the moment he locked eyes with you, he'll have to face your wrath and.... He'd rather not.

You sighed and shook your head before walking over to the child who stepped away from you the moment you got closer.

You stopped, keeping your distance and smiled kindly. "It's okay. Don't be afraid, little one. I won't hurt you."

Your voice was soft, your eyes were kind so when the child looked up at Sukuna and saw the way he was looking at you, they knew you were trustworthy.

And yet...

"You won't harm me but... I can harm you." Was what the child spoke.

Your heart sank at their words and the way they looked away. Their gaze was an empty and distant void. This poor child...

But the King of Curses scoffed at their words. "Go to her. As long as I am here you cannot harm her."

You were surprised at how this child had came to trust Sukuna that they took his word and slowly stepped over to you. Besides you, no one else in this land would ever dare trust him. Then again, your husband never gave them a reason to.

You went down on your knees to be at the child's level. A small, loving smile graced your features as you reached over to brush your fingers against their cheek.

Ice cold.

But that didn't stop you as you brushed their hair in comfort. "You poor thing... Just what have you been through?" You asked softly.

The child kept quiet, their eyes gathered with unshed tears. They closed it to stop them from flowing down. And then, very very tentatively they leaned into your touch.

"...You're warm." They mumbled.

Your heart warmed at those soft words. You were happy that this child had found comfort in you.

Despite being the King of Curses' wife, you loved children. You always wanted one of your own. You had even managed to convince your husband to have a child together.

But those dreams were far gone when you found out you were infertile.

It took a while but you had gotten over it. Though part of you still wished that you can have that. A small family with your husband.

So when you looked up at Sukuna, that's when you noticed his gaze. A look that was only reserved for you. Tender, soft and... loving. But there was another meaning behind it...

This is my gift to you.

Your heart leaped and you felt tears gathering in your eyes. The smile you gave him was nothing short of radiant that had him looking away from you. But you knew he was flustered just from the red tint on the tip of his ears.

You laughed softly and got on your feet, gently pulling the child close to you. "What's your name, little one?"

"Uraume."

You hummed. "Uraume... What a beautiful name. Are you hungry, Uraume?"

Uraume felt their stomach grumble just then so they softly nodded.

"Very well, then I'll get started on dinner."

Uraume looked up at you, their pinkish eyes staring at you with a curious glint. "Can I help?" They asked.

You smiled, running a gentle hand through their white hair.

"Of course."

next —>

#sukuna #uraume #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk sukuna #sukuna x y/n #mine #idk why I wrote this sorry if it's weird but epilogue gave me brain rot ahsjskdkd

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swordgrace · 5 months ago

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𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅𝐒𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃, 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ cregan stark x fem!targtower!reader.

SYNOPSIS: as the youngest daughter of alicent hightower, you are wed to the young wolf, cregan stark. what many believe to be a union of strife, such a notion is proven wrong very quickly.

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anon.

{ WORD COUNT: 6.7K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), arranged marriage, reader is a targtower with pale hair & lilac eyes, skin color unspecified, first time sex (for reader), loss of virginity, p in v sex (unprotected), massive breeding kink, all stark men have a breeding gene, oral sex / cunnilingus (fem!rec), face-sitting, biting/marking, making out, lots of touching, missionary position, talk of having a child, soft ending + aftercare

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: There’s been a ton of Cregan requests, so I hope that this satisfies a lot of people until I post another! ❤️ Thank you all so much for the incredible requests and support of my work, it means the world to me and I am extremely grateful for all of it. See you guys soon!

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 — 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐜𝐞.

The North was often regarded as a harsh and unyielding environment, with bitter, stinging winds and snowfalls that could bury men alive beneath their might. Such tales were often told to scare children or dissuade them from leaving the roost.

It was untamed and savage, according to your mother — she who vehemently fought against your betrothal to Cregan Stark, the Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. A marriage steeped in wariness and discord, you had been pleasantly surprised by your husband’s kindness and warm stoicism.

Piety was a rarity in the bleak, bloodsoaked world you lived within — innocence was a quality as uncommon as a diamond in the rough. When Cregan had been offered such a sacred proposal during the last days of King Viserys I, he nearly scoffed at it.

A Targaryen, a Hightower — he almost imagined that the both of you would not do well together, and that it would become a sour union, made only to please families and uphold duty. His advisors, old men with embittered grudges against the South, cautioned him away from it, imploring him to wed a girl from the Vale or the Reach.

When Cregan Stark met you, clad in pale shades of sage and ivory, with lilac hues and a smile that could melt even the toughest of ice, perhaps it would not be a dreadful marriage after all.

Even with a dragon at your heel, there was something positively resplendent about you — Cregan could feel it within his marrow, a feeling seldom felt by any man locked in an arranged betrothal.

It was your innocuous, tenderhearted nature that beguiled him, as if you unconsciously drew him in with your honey. Your very first meeting happened to be to seal the marriage pact itself before you would be shipped away to the North, to be his wife and the new Lady Stark.

Cregan rarely found himself charmed by anyone, yet you possessed an inner beauty that flourished in his presence. You were your own flame, burning through his hardened exterior. He did not mistake your docile nature for weakness — you possessed a dragon, where he did not.

You were rather taken with him, perplexed by his outward ruggedness and gruff accent, the way in which he carried himself, massive physique clad in the thick trappings of a wolf. He was a mountain of a man, yet he handled you as if you were some precious jewel, sacred and worthy of admiration.

Alicent begrudgingly watched as you, her youngest daughter, untainted by her own fractured morality, was sent away to the North in the hands of some brute. For the good of the Realm, Viserys had told her, but it cut deeper knowing that it was you, her beloved flesh and blood.

Yet, as you found yourself beneath the crimson leaves of the Weirwood Tree in the Godswood, hands bound with Cregan’s own, you forgot about your mother’s bitterness entirely — and you were happy.

The first kiss was one that would make a permanent residence within your memory for lifetimes to come. He had cradled your face, towering over you as if he were a solemn statue, but even you could see the softening within his visage.

King’s Landing was suffocating, more often than not. The animosity that festered between your family smothered you, crushing you beneath its sharp heel. You were no longer surrounded by bitterness and resentment, and instead, cloaked by the protection and warmth of your new husband.

The feast held in honor of your blossoming union was one of merriment, the mood lighthearted and blissful. You sat beside your husband, stomach tumbling with a coil of nerves. Everyone seemed foreign to you, unfamiliar faces with their northern attitudes and odd indifference.

You could not fault anyone for having their suspicions, given your heritage. Being a Targaryen, pale-headed and violet-eyed, bringing your dragon from the South — it must’ve been jarring. Growing into your station as the Lady of Winterfell would be a long and arduous process, but you hoped that Cregan would show you the way.

Oblivious to your Lord-Husband’s smoldering stare, you politely consumed bites of the sugar-dusted fruit cobbler, admiring the vibrant aura within the room. Your wedding gowns were as pure as the driven snow, accented with silver embroidery and lined with pale fleece to keep you warm, given the cold gnaw of winter.

If it weren’t for Cregan’s steadfastness in providing you with a new wardrobe fit for winter, the icy chill would’ve consumed your extremities from the inside-out.

Leaning over within his seat, Cregan reached for your hand, stormy-gray hues churning with a kindness reserved for you. “How are you faring, wife?” He inquired, voice a low rumble; a soothing timbre that sent shivers down your spine.

“Very well,” Warmth crawled along your flesh when he referred to you as wife so openly and affectionately. You weren’t accustomed to having someone be so attentive to you, hang upon your every word, treat you with such courteousness. “This is so wonderful. I must thank you and your Keep, for your kindness.”

If you were anyone else, Cregan might’ve treated you with a stalwart cordiality found in most formalities, but you were not anyone else. You were good, sweet, and kindhearted — above all, you were quite innocent. He would’ve been telling himself a bold lie if he hadn’t thought about taking you to bed several times already.

The colors of the North suited you — his home suited you. Not many men of his position were so lucky when it came to betrothals, but he felt as if he was beyond fortunate to have married you. Cregan only hoped to be a good husband to you and to your future children, heirs to Winterfell, with the blood of the dragon and the wolf in their veins.

He had forbidden a bedding ceremony, content to guide you to your chambers once the festivities ceased, instead. Cregan enjoyed observing you and your demure mannerisms, from the way you made small talk with those around you, complimenting the choice of food and drink. It warmed his heart to know that his wife was an amiable soul.

“You needn’t worry, Princess. It is my duty as your husband to show you a bit of Northern hospitality.” Cregan mused, a ghost of a smile tugging at either corner of his mouth. He rarely showed any emotion, let alone treating his subjects with a smile given his hardiness, but he did show a sliver of it for you. He didn’t want to scare you away.

With a delighted smile, your hand shyly curled around his, your skin unblemished and soft. Cregan hadn’t touched a woman as silky as you, and it made his blood run hot — an inopportune time, given that it was in the midst of his wedding feast. “Thank you, my Lord.” You weren’t sure if you were permitted to abandon formalities just yet.

Cregan huffed, gaze twinkling with amusement as he let your smaller hand hold his own, digits tenderly caressing over your knuckles. “I would hope that you only call me ‘my Lord’ if you’re angry with me,” His chest rumbled with an affectionate sound. “You aren’t in King’s Landing anymore.”

Embarrassment rippled through you, but before you could correct yourself out of anxiousness, Cregan gingerly squeezed your hand. Instead, it evoked a smile from you, the very same tender expression you’d given him when you were proclaimed as his wife. “I will call you husband when I am pleased with you.” You mused, bright as could be, and so blissfully naive.

Often regarded as a brooding, serious man with little traces of humor, Cregan found himself letting his guard down just enough with you. Of course, to any observer, he still seemed rather stoic, but the brief, fleeting looks he gave you, the threadbare smiles — it suggested otherwise.

As the excitable buzz of the feast began to simmer, Cregan stood from the table, wood scraping across the stone floors of the Great Hall. He stepped away from you, sparing the servants and guardsmen a word before he returned to your side.

“Is there not to be a bedding ceremony?” You whispered, stomach still tight and festering with nervousness. It was something you feared since you last saw Aegon and Helaena be hauled away for such a thing. The concept of it frightened you, twisted and unusual.

With furrowed brows, Cregan shook his head, offering his thick arm out for you to take. “No,” He grunted, noticing the swell of anxiousness etched into your features. “I would never subject you to such a thing, or myself.” He murmured, feeling you take his arm as he led you from the Great Hall.

Relief flooded through you, and you finally relaxed, seemingly appreciative of Cregan’s thoughtfulness in the matter. “Thank you, husband.” You sighed, gripping onto his arm as he led you into a warm corridor and towards a massive spiral of thick, stone steps.

Though, you still had a duty to perform — consummating the marriage, creating an heir. Part of you feared what it all entailed, given that Helaena never seemed pleased with any of it. Would he hurt you? You were uncertain, but you wanted to believe that your new husband would keep you safe.

Cregan welcomed you into your marital chambers, tidied and polished for your stay. Whatever belongings you brought with you, they were situated near a set of fine, wooden chairs circled around a stone table. Everything seemed warm and comely in his quarters, the direwolf aesthetic heavy-handed, the hearth crackling and bursting with ripples of fire.

“If there is something not to your liking, inform me — I will have it rearranged,” Cregan rumbled, following in your footsteps as you neared the open hearth, warming your hands and basking in its glow. He stood close to you, towering over you with his bulk and might. “How are you?” He asked, ensuring your comfort above all else.

There was little need for the hearth when Cregan was near, radiating a natural heat that drew you in. His countenance seemed softer, not nearly as impassive as he’d been before. “I am more than fine, I promise.” You assured him, hands wringing together. “I thought that I would miss home, but I do not. Isn’t that terrible?”

Perplexed, Cregan seemed inclined to listen to your elaboration, chestnut tresses framing his face. “It isn’t a terrible thing, princess. I would imagine that it must be freeing, to be somewhere else. You’ve never left the capital.” He replied, knowing that you were quite sheltered for most of your life.

A soft sigh escaped you, and you tried not to think about it anymore. You didn’t want to sour the mood with talk of home and the past — this was now. “It is liberating,” You confessed, craning to look at him with a semblance of wonder and affection. “I am happy that I’m here with you.” You spoke with genuineness and finality.

It was pleasing to hear you say such a thing, and even better to know that you truly meant it. One thick, burly arm slowly encircled your hips, bringing you into the warm expanse of his chest. “Good,” He murmured, expression steely. “That pleases me greatly.”

To know that Cregan valued your happiness was a wonderful feeling — you felt cared for and seen, shrouded within his protectiveness. You imagined that it would be a blissful marriage. “Thank you, Cregan.” His name slipped from your perfect tongue, and he thoroughly enjoyed the sound it made.

A low rumble vibrated through Cregan’s chest as he drew you as close as he could, tracing his calloused digits along the soft curve of your jaw. “You are very beautiful,” He murmured, timbre edged with a delicious husk that made your knees buckle. You shivered, something that he took note of. “Are you cold, wife?”

You nodded, sucking in a sharp breath when his lips neared yours. “I am.” A squeak escaped you, followed by a steady exhale. You had been kissed before, but the extent of your experience abruptly stopped there. You imagined that you wouldn’t be cold for much longer.

His lips met yours, the kiss tender yet passionate, deepened by your husband. Cregan found your mouth to be most pleasant, pliant and perfectly soft, yet malleable. You reciprocated his kiss, hands moving to press against his chest.

“Will it be painful?” You whispered, likely in an attempt to soothe your gnawing nervousness. Agony was something that didn’t coexist with pleasure, in your mind. You wanted this moment to be special and sacred, binding yourself to your husband.

Cregan hesitated, gently cupping your face with his rough palm, tenderly stroking along your cheek. “I wouldn’t dare harm you, princess. You have my word.” He assured, and it confirmed his suspicions — you hadn’t been with another before. “It might be painful, but I will be gentle. We don’t have to start tonight.”

Admittedly, it was quite the opposite for you — you wanted to start tonight, but you longed for clarification first, and he gave it to you. You shook your head, hands slipping toward the front of his tunic, as if silently pleading with him to stay. “I want to.” You insisted, looking like the picture of innocence.

As much as he liked you sweet and pious, Cregan had a feeling that it would be somewhat different after this. His gray hues swirled with a heavy desire, dropping towards the delicate curve of your mouth. “May I?” It was all that he needed to ask, and as soon as you nodded, he brought you in for a heated kiss.

Despite his appearance, a stone-faced wall of muscle and Northern strength, he was incredibly gentle with you. He held you against him, never tight enough to cause you discomfort, hands softly kneading into your hips. You kissed him back as best as you could, feverishly hot, butterflies erupting within your stomach.

His beautiful wife — Cregan could not imagine another, now that he had you in his arms. The way you kissed him was innocuous and tender, as if you were also terrified of making a mistake. Your purity, a precious thing indeed, would be tarnished and dissolved after this evening.

The thought of you, round and swollen with his child, was both tantalizing and tempting — well within his grasp. Cregan wondered if they would take after you, pale-headed with lilac hues, or perhaps himself. If the Gods were good, they would be a blend of the both of you, a dragon and a wolf.

You shivered again when your burly husband curled his hand into the back of your wedding gown, fingers slipping between the gaps, feeling inklings of your bare skin beneath. “I’ll keep you warm, wife.” He rumbled, pressing a kiss against your jaw. It wasn’t from the cold, he knew this, but his honeyed words made you flustered.

He dropped his cloak, allowing the thick curtain of fur to land against the floor. He was impossibly broad, as thick as stone, tunic loose yet snug enough to accentuate his brawn. You felt your breath hitch within your throat, swallowing another barrage of nerves.

Cregan’s mouth assailed your neck, hand peeling away the collar of pale fur in order to reach you. Every kiss was passionate, wrought with need, yet maintained that air of gentleness. Roughness was in his nature, but he wouldn’t dare fall into that pit on your wedding night.

You tasted ambrosial, sweet velvet beneath his lips, which peppered themselves wherever they could. He listened to your soft gasps and needy whines, your hands having curled into the coarse material of his tunic. He wanted to show you just how perfect you really were.

Suddenly, your gown felt much too tight and constricting, as if you would drown within it. You alleviated such sensations by loosening the bodice, tugging on the ivory strings. The fur became unraveled as Cregan gently draped the garment over the back of a chair.

Left in the thin, humble trappings of your smallclothes, nothing more than a corset hugging a linen slip, he silently appraised you with the hunger of a wolf. You appeared to be shy, somewhat coy in his presence as he looked you over, large palms settling against the swell of your hips.

“Why do you shy away?” Cregan murmured, chestnut brows furrowing together, tone one of genuine concern. You were the prettiest creature he’d ever seen — most Targaryens were known for their beauty, but you possessed it both ways, inner and outer, and that only made you more incomparable in his eyes.

Swallowing your nerves, you chewed at the inside of your cheek, hands fidgeting together. “I suppose I worry about what you’ll think,” A sore insecurity, to be sure, but something most young maidens possessed. Cregan’s gray hues softened, one hand stroking along the length of your spine. “That I won’t be suitable.”

A huff escaped him, a threadbare chuckle as he shook his head, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “You worry too much, princess.” That deep, thunderous timbre of his, husky with his Northern accent, shook you right to your core. “You are my wife — and you are perfect.” He assured, kissing along your jaw.

You exhaled, hands reaching for his tunic, wanting to see him without his clothing. There was a rush of warmth that crawled across your flesh, surging through your blood as Cregan pressed endless kisses against your skin. He trailed from jaw to collarbone, hands loosening your corset.

With a brusque tug, your gruff husband tore it from you altogether, tossing the bodice aside. “I will show you how perfect you are.” He rumbled, voice a low, heavy caress near the shell of your ear. You shivered, gaze half-lidded as you tugged insistently at his tunic.

The message was unspoken, but conveyed nonetheless as your mountain of a husband let his hands drop from you, only to tug the coarse, dark linen over his head. He was burly, broad-shouldered and thick with muscle, wisps of chestnut tresses framing his face.

Amusingly enough, Cregan possessed more of a cherubic, youthful face than you expected, yet his nose was slightly crooked from having it broken, faint scars upon his face. His eyes seemed wisened, old beyond his years. He reached for your slip, gathering the material within his hands as he looked to you for consent.

With your confidence rejuvenated, you nodded, breathless and wanton as you assisted him in maneuvering out of your thin smallclothes. The brief lick of chilled air dragged across your bare flesh, causing your nipples to harden, pebbling with the chill.

Fire danced across your physique, tantalizing and gorgeous, beautiful beyond compare. Even Cregan seemed speechless for a beat, throat reverberating with a low grunt as he motioned toward your shared bed.

You half-expected him to pounce on you, grab your hips and stake his claim, but he simply resorted to watching you slide onto the bed, covered in furs of all varieties. The frame rustled slightly, and you laid down, a picture of true perfection. Your crown of pale tresses seemed to stick out amidst the darker pallor of the furs.

Anticipation churned violently within your gut, arousal slick and mounting between your thighs as Cregan stalked closer, removing clothing in the process. You watched with bated breath as he loosened the ties of his breeches, removing them altogether.

It was to be expected — a man of his indomitable stature likely had the assets to accompany it. You nearly choked at the sight of him, terrified that it really would hurt, even if he was gentle. You sucked in a sharp breath, bewildered when he had reclined beside you instead.

“I won’t bite, my Lady.” Cregan rumbled, soothingly patting his lap as you crawled closer. He effortlessly picked you up, letting you straddle his hips as he admired you from below. “Hm.” With a hum of approval, he caressed along your form, stroking from your thigh to your breasts.

It was agonizingly deliberate, made to explore and study instead of acting upon salacious impulses. Cregan observed you closely, palm gently cupping your breast, thumb swiping over your nipple. You gasped, careening into his sensual embrace.

A flurry of desire bubbled within him when you planted your smaller hand atop his, as if encouraging him to knead and grope at his leisure. He seemed pleased, and so did you, a low hum escaping you as he caressed your silky flesh.

He made sure to show that same amount of attention to your unattended breast, slowly kneading into you. Those tempestuous gray hues never tore themselves away from you, boring into you with a searing intensity.

Warm slick coalesced between your thighs, only mounting and growing when he continued to touch you, hand lifting to cup your chin. You absentmindedly leaned into his touch, eyes becoming half-lidded as you rocked forward within his lap.

The sensations you felt were new and exhilarating, goosebumps dancing across your spine, heat pooling between your legs. “May I touch you?” You asked, tone delicate and sweet, a display of your piety and innocence. He quite enjoyed your desire to explore alongside him, and he gave a nod of his head.

“You don’t need to ask, princess.” He soothed, jaw tensing as your soft palms settled against his chest. Cregan’s stormy eyes didn’t leave you, carefully tracing each plane of your curves, the downy texture of your skin, the lilac glint of your eyes.

Your fingertips dragged across his musculature, committing each scar to memory, features becoming hot beneath his incendiary stare. He was your husband now — you imagined that scenarios like these would become commonplace. “You are so handsome,” You whispered incredulously, lips curling into a gentle smile. “Perfect.”

Cregan appeared perplexed, a soft huff escaping him as he trailed his calloused palm across the small of your back. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had called him perfect and meant it — and he knew that you did. He neglected to act, allowing you to explore as much as you pleased.

Awestruck, he watched with silent hunger as you leaned down, lips pressing against his own. A soft grunt escaped Cregan as he caged you in, mouth passionate as it tangled with yours. He enjoyed the feeling of your body snug atop his, your skin resplendent, like velvet against the grating bite of stone.

Dragging a hand from the swell of your hips to the nape of your neck, he gripped the base of your skull, gingerly kneading into your pale tresses. He kissed you again, oozing with desire as he stole every wisp of air from your lungs.

He pulled one leg up into a v-shape, supporting your back to keep you upright atop his lap. You could feel the thick girth of his cock nudge against your backside, causing you to shiver at the foreign sensation. “Do you trust me?” Cregan murmured, roughened fingertips dragging over the pliant flesh of your thigh.

There was an indiscernible look within his eyes, chestnut brows drawing together slightly. Your breath hitched as you nodded, and Cregan settled against the furs, strewn on his back. Those strong hands of his continued to nudge you forward, bringing you from his warm lap to his chest, and then a touch closer.

“What are you …” Uncertain yet filled with exhilaration, you had no idea what Cregan was planning. Your slick cunt neared his mouth, and your Northern paramour did little to slow the process, bumping you forward until you hovered above him. “C—Cregan, C —” Your voice tapered off into a whine.

His tongue raked hot embers across your cunt, a sensation that immediately made your knees buckle. You used the headboard to brace yourself, mouth tearing open as a strangled gasp escaped you. Part of you feared sitting down entirely, but Cregan coaxed you down, hands digging into your haunches.

Your reaction was beyond worthwhile, body trembling and coiled, hand scrambling to brace yourself as the other fervently dug into his chestnut tresses. You never imagined that such pleasure was even possible, filling you with an excitable ecstasy that sank into your bones.

Splitting past your folds, Cregan tasted every inch of you, tongue seeking your cunt with a fervor. He was vigorous in his ministrations, not shying away from consuming every drop of your arousal. His nose brushed against your mound, hands kneading into your thighs to reassure you, let you know that he had you.

Even when he rested beneath you, he still seemed indomitable, perhaps a touch intimidating. You didn’t look down, body involuntarily trembling and rocking forward, back beginning to arch. “Gods, a—ah!” You stammered, thighs twitching and quivering as his tongue gently flicked over your clit.

Visibly flustered, you felt so strange and smitten, riding your husband’s face as you would your dragon. It filled your belly with a rousing fire, one bright enough to consume the rest of your body, licking along the length of your spine.

A low rumble emerged from Cregan’s chest, a vibration that rattled you to your core. He wanted you to have your fill, take as much as you could and drown within pleasure. Your maidenhead was still intact, a virtue that he did not treat lightly. He didn’t feel the need to breathe, lapping at your cunt with a wolfish gluttony.

You were undeniably soaked, like a fine stout upon his tongue as he devoured you. Cregan was passionate, each stroke of his tongue ensuring that you felt it all, bliss erupting throughout your stomach.

Chasing after what you imagined to be your release, you happened to peer down for a moment, finding the contented face of your husband, whose face was lodged between your legs. His brows were creased in concentration, tongue prodding against your entrance before languidly flicking back to your clit.

It was only when he pursed his lips around that sensitive clutch of nerves, that you nearly collapsed around him. Even your draconic blood could melt, tempered by the hardened ice of your Northern paramour. You gasped, hips stuttering as your thighs squeezed at either side of his head — fortunately, he didn’t seem to care.

The only thing you wanted was this, forever — your husband’s tongue between your legs, a sanctuary in the North with a potential family, a life in which you could finally find your solace. You continued to squirm and writhe, moaning his praises into the warmth of your chambers.

As you approached your peak, you grappled with Cregan’s tresses, tugging at the root as you rocked forward, again and again. “Cregan,” You moaned, countenance contorting into a look of sheer pleasure, bones crawling with an insatiable heat. “Cregan, Cregan, please!” It was a siren’s song of desire.

He did not stop, but he didn’t change course, either. Instead, he simply continued on, suckling at your clit as he intermingled it with timed laps of his tongue. Your release slammed into you, white-hot and blistering, gnawing away at your stomach as that coil of heat effectively snapped.

A whine emerged from you, one that was nearly breathless as you rocked forward again, legs shaking from ecstasy as you rode out your peak. Cregan, ever the dutiful husband, lapped at your nectar, savoring the taste, the scent of a pleasurable aftermath.

“What —” You had to catch your breath again, attempting to recuperate as you sat back on his chest instead, thick, burly muscle plentiful enough to cushion you. “Where did you learn how to do that?” It was an innocuous question, one so sweetly-spoken that it nearly caused Cregan to chuckle.

He did, however, smile — a rare, sentimental gesture reserved only for you. It was threadbare, and if it weren’t for the nature of your relationship, one might’ve thought him to be rugged and indifferent. “You need only ask, princess, and I will oblige.” His voice was a deep rumble that warmed your insides.

You thoroughly enjoyed the nickname of princess — a term of endearment given your status, but you were a princess no longer. “I am a lady of the North now, aren’t I? A princess no longer,” You proclaimed, skin shimmering with perspiration. “What will you call me, now?” You asked.

“Hm,” Cregan contemplated, pressing a kiss against your leg before he sat up enough to have a good look at you, chin still glistening with your slick. The sight was lewd, enough to make you unbelievably flustered as he grew closer, nearly chest-to-chest with you. “Lady Stark would suffice.” He murmured.

Something amorous burned within you, a smolder that soon turned to ignited sparks. “It would please me greatly.” You hummed, running your hands over his biceps before Cregan gently changed places with you, moving you beneath his bulk, comfortable upon your back.

Soft was a mere understatement — he could feel himself melt. It was not your dragon’s blood or heat that made him crumble, but your heart. He could imagine you as the mother of his children, belly round with his heirs, the Lady of Winterfell, a Hightower no longer.

He settled between your legs, and you gasped when his cock gently glided against your slick core. Cregan knew to temper himself, to be as gentle as he could with it being your wedding night, but his resolve was steadily diminished in your presence. He steeled himself, pressing a string of kisses along your body.

Without thinking, you unconsciously goaded Cregan into a point of near-frenzy. Your hands found the taut, trunk-like muscle of his biceps, visage filled with a sense of awe and adoration. “A child would please me greatly.” You confessed, having no clue what it would do to your husband.

Cregan stopped, digits curling into the thick furs on either side of your head. It took every fiber of his being not to fuck you then and there — and he wouldn’t, it wasn’t right for him to take your maidenhead with such roughness. His fantasy became reality, a visceral, beautiful vision that made him grunt, jaw unnaturally tense.

His rough palm soothingly stroked along your thigh, lust swelling within him like a blizzard, a violent storm of need that transcended all bonds of propriety. “Does Lady Stark want me to put a pup in her belly?” Cregan rumbled, tempestuous hues ignited with a fire that demanded to be extinguished, sending shockwaves right to your core.

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, shuddering at the sound of his voice — an edged husk, like the rumbling of thunder before a deluge or the shaking of a mountain. “Yes,” You exhaled, searching his countenance, only to find desire. “I would.”

The Gods were testing him, aiming to see if he would break beneath the pressure, but he refused. Cregan lowered himself over you, lips molding themselves against yours in a hot kiss. Your hands remained poised atop his biceps, barely able to wrap themselves around the thick, corded muscle.

He wasn’t much of a talker, and it quickly dwindled into deep grunts and heavier sighs as he aligned his cock with your entrance. He made sure to part your legs, keeping them spread as he began to push inside of you. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, startled at the twinge of pain, the discomfort of it all.

Cregan despised the mere thought of causing you harm, and even he was willing to end it all then and there. “We don’t have to continue, beloved.” He rumbled, pressing a soothing string of kisses along your face. The endearing nickname made you preen, nails digging into his arms.

“No, I — I’m well enough,” You breathed, insistent on continuing. Cregan deliberated, but when you let out a low whine, he obeyed your command. “Gods, I need you, Cregan.” Pitched with a wanton resonance, you urged him to keep going.

Your neediness made his blood run hot, and he nodded, sluggishly resuming his pace. He continued to tilt his hips forward, cock feeding into you, inch by agonizing inch. Cregan felt the desperate bite of your nails clutching into muscle, leaving behind angry crescents.

You were never fully warned of the pain, the discomfort that accompanied pleasure. It was always sold as some fantasy, particularly for men — nights of heavenly passion resulting in bliss. For you, it was simply a marital duty to provide your husband with an heir, but this transcended that. Passion and affection sparked between the both of you, and it felt right.

As Cregan finally bottomed out inside of you, he allowed you time to fully adjust, rocking into you at a lackadaisical pace. He continued to shower you in kisses, wherever his lips could reach, giving particular affection to the crook of your neck.

Whatever discontent you felt, you hastily pushed it aside, tossing it into the recesses of your mind. Instead, you focused on him — on how incredible he made you feel, the warmth you experienced in his presence. One of your hands slipped to thread within his chestnut tresses, mouth agape.

You took him so well — better than expected, and it filled him with a sense of pride and ardor. Cregan pressed hungry kisses along your throat, nose buried into the hollow of it, right beneath your jugular. He continued to go slow, afraid of causing you further pain.

Cregan repositioned his hand, leaving one lodged beside your head, the other sinking into your haunch, digits tenderly kneading into your thigh. It was an offer of reassurance, and he watched your countenance shift from discontented to relaxed.

“Move,” The sharpness of your command brought him to heel, and he very nearly smiled — it was there, the ghost of it toying at his lips. Bringing his hips back and then forward, you moaned, knowing that the sting of pain would soon blossom into pleasure. “Please.”

Molten heat swirled within the pit of your stomach, arousal thick between your legs as Cregan began to find his pace, a rhythm that shook you to your core. He was so very gentle, even for a man of his herculean mass and muscle. He took care of you, soothingly caressing your thigh as he thrusted into you.

His cock filled you completely, a stretch that would take you more than just one night to adjust to. Your maidenhead was gone, your cunt tight around his length, pulling him in again and again.

Cregan’s breathing became heavier, somewhat labored as he consummated your union. Each snap of his hips held meaning, beyond the creation of an heir. It was tenuous with feelings, a burning sentiment he felt for you, ardor that had grown into a fire.

Admittedly, his mind was hazy, fueled by desire and the mere thought of you wanting a child — you had asked it of him, demanded, and he was at your mercy. Cregan couldn’t have gotten any luckier with you, the most resplendent woman he’d ever seen.

Imagining you full and round, still as lovely as the day he set his eyes upon you, a mother and a dragon — it was nothing short of true perfection. He chased after it, evident by the growing vigor and passion in each thrust of his hips, cock nearly tearing you into two.

No matter how gentle and careful Cregan was with you, it was to no avail, but you no longer cared. “Cregan,” You moaned, lifting one leg to hitch it around his waist, and that only seemed to further spur him on, allowing him to hit new depths. His throbbing length nearly kissed your womb, filling you to the brim. “Cregan!” You cried.

For a moment, you feared being split in-half by your mountain of a husband, but he slowed enough to let you recuperate, throat reverberating with carnal grunts. The rumbling of his chest, the heat that radiated from him in waves — it was all perfect.

It was driving him mad, the way your cunt constricted around his cock, the way in which your back arched from the furs, chest brushing against his. Cregan grunted, jaw set and brows furrowed in concentration as he kneaded into your thigh, something to alleviate his tension.

His thrusts deepened, became passionate and invigorated with love, and each snap of his hips made your head spin with delirium. You were drunk on desire, clinging to him as if you were a drowning maiden, hand splayed against his shoulder.

Whenever he happened to become a touch too vigorous, he felt your nails dig deep into his flesh, leaving behind the reddened marks of your consummation. Cregan was getting close, chest erupting with labored pants as he pressed his forehead against yours.

You moaned, body bending beneath his passion, malleable within his hands. His cock throbbed within you as he sought to spill his seed, face against yours, lips occasionally connecting in a series of sloppy, warm kisses. Everything felt incredible, in ways that you couldn’t comprehend.

He was so burly, a thick wall of impenetrable muscle that seemed to envelop you entirely, shield you from everything else, from all harm. Strands of chestnut stuck to his temples, flesh glittering with perspiration from the exertion of lovemaking, coupled with the heat in your chambers.

With another brusque thrust of his hips, he settled inside of you, reaching his peak with a subtle groan. His seed filled your cunt in hot ropes, more than enough to take, if the Gods were good. Cregan exhaled, feverishly hot as he began to recuperate, neglecting to remove himself from you for a few moments.

“Are you alright?” Cregan murmured, ensuring your wellbeing first, above all else. A stinging soreness settled into your thighs and your core, but you would survive. He didn’t completely obliterate you, thankfully — you wondered what he would be like, unrestrained.

“Yes,” You smiled, visibly flustered beneath the intensity of his stare. “That was incredible.” Your confession made him huff, likely one of amusement as he pressed a kiss against your forehead. Even you glittered with sweat, but that was to be expected.

You already wanted more — and you nearly asked it of him.

Lascivious fantasies took root within your mind, and the mere idea of him being rough and completely domineering made your cunt throb. You could not do it now, given how exhausted you were, but he had certainly unlocked a new side to you, a side that you were unfamiliar with.

Cregan pulled himself from you, propping your hips up beneath a feathered pillow to ensure that his seed would take. He rested beside you, drawing you into the bulk of his muscled arms, allowing you to rest your head against the expanse of his chest. “You were perfect.” He rumbled, roughened digits stroking along your spine.

It pleased you to know that your husband was satisfied with you, much to your delight. “I am glad,” Relief rippled through you as you inched closer, perfectly slotted against his frame. “So were you.” Your pleasant accolades made him smile, fracturing his stony exterior.

“There will be plenty of time for this, that I can promise you,” Cregan was more concerned with getting to know you, his beautiful lady-wife, Lady Stark. “I would like to start with you.” He murmured, savoring the sensation of your fingers tracing across his abdomen.

You blinked, seemingly surprised by Cregan’s genuine interest in you. It made you happy — perhaps you could have both. Moments of learning and moments like these, where you could indulge in pleasure.

“Would it offend you if I asked you to do both?” You questioned, warmth crawling along your body as Cregan squeezed the swell of your hip, gray hues sparkling with a semblance of mirth.

“It wouldn’t,” Cregan mused, timbre dropping to a lull, a husky octave that seemed to envelop you in its stoicism and warmth. “It pleases me to know that Lady Stark possesses the appetite of a dragon.” His teasing made you squirm, but he simply caressed you and held you closer.

With a coy smile, you lifted your head, pressing your lips against his, asserting your still-lingering desire for your husband. “Not a dragon,” Your tone softened with a sweeter resonance. “A wolf.”

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x y/n #cregan x reader #cregan stark #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon smut #hotd smut #hotd fanfiction

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bitten-button · 2 years ago

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Was going to write 'a plague on YOUR house <3' but realised that its still too soon for that girl we did have plague in our houses. So i bite my thumb at you or something

#FUCK YOU #Bites you bites you bites you bites you ( not in the affectionate way)#It is a love story!!#The tragedy is that so much stood in their way #You telling me you weren't ever stupid about love????#It was there first love it was bright and brilliant and in a world where they are constantly fighting in their parents fudes #They found love and softness and care #It was their first love and they were just kids and because no one else could put aside their hatred they had to die for it #Fuck you man it is a love story it can be love and tragedy and funny in places #Their first conversation forms a fucking sonnet dude ighisjajrjvjahtjvjsbeiscvbkr #I am insane and i hate this stupid take #Fair enough if you don't like it or find Shakespeare annoying to read but grrrr it's so good #Maybe im just queer but that persistence to find love when others tell you its wrong forbidden and embarrassing for the family is so #It's just SO much you know???#I don't even like r&j that much my favourite shakespeare is much ado #But yeah #It was their first love it was bright and passionate and a little stupid maybe but they were kids who should have been able to have that #But violence took it away #Like many people have said the tragedy is that their first love was their last

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xervn · 30 days ago

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till the sun is up

oneshot | cowboy sevika

ao3 link

summary: porch sex. that's about it.

18+ MDNI | 2k words | tags; modern au, cowboy sevika (doesn't play a big part though), established relationship, sevika has both arms (sorry, ik, i love it too), kissing, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, no use of y/n, porn w/ plot if you squint

took me weeks to write this because i'm lazy and a student, but i'm still in love with sevika. sorry if there's grammatical errors, i mostly wrote this with one hand (im joking)

It’s six-oh-something AM and you woke up to an empty bed; nothing but wrinkled sheets where your wife is supposed to be. You figure she’s keeping herself busy and will be back soon, so in the meantime, you tie your robe around your waist for a little warmth and head downstairs.

You get started on breakfast, turning on the griddle, and taking note of the things you guys need to stock up on. However, by the time you’re done, Sevika has still not shown up. You’re not used to waking up without seeing her, although the only reason you’re up right now is because you didn’t feel her next to you.

“She must be in the barn.” You assume, making your way to the front door and to the porch. As expected, the horses are out, which could only mean Sevika was too. You make your own binoculars with your hands, trying to see if you can spot your wife in the distance, until you hear a soft grunt right beside you.

A peaceful sight, Sevika napping on a wooden armchair like an uncle at a family gathering— you giggle at that— with her cowboy hat being used as a sleeping mask. You hate to have to wake her up, but you made her breakfast! And she should’ve been sleeping next to you anyways.

“Vika..” You lean down to peek at her face, but, of course, her hat is blocking her eyes. “Vika, baby?” You squat down to plant a kiss on her cheek where you can manage, and she hums awake. “There you are.”

Sevika grunts and you giggle. She sits up and pulls her hat back on her head, squinting at the early morning sun that’s still rising, but somehow found a perfect angle to blind her. She turns to look at you instead. “Hey, sweetheart.” She greets with a rasp.

You spot her discomfort and use your body to block the incoming light for her. “Hi, I missed you.”

She smiles sleepily and reaches for your waist. She guides you down to sit on her lap and you happily let her. “‘M sorry. Woke up too early, thought I’d let the horses out and watch the sunrise...” She says before looking away to yawn.

You gasp lightly, “Without me?” You clutch at your chest and Sevika chuckles at your theatrics.

She gently tries to move your hand into hers, but you resist. She shakes her head, laughing, “No, no, no. Baby, please, I didn’t want to wake you.”

“But you made it sound so romantic.. I wouldn’t mind.” You pout. Sevika gives you a doubtful look and you pretend not to see it.

“You’re not nice when I wake you up.” She reminds you.

“I would’ve been nice this time.” You lie.

“I didn’t want to test that.”

You playfully roll your eyes, “Oh, whatever.” You shift to get up, but Sevika quickly anchors you down.

“Where are you going?” She questions with her hands on you firmly; one around your waist and on your stomach, and the other indented in your thigh like you might float away.

“Ease up, cowgirl. I made breakfast. I made you breakfast.” You reply, placing your hand on her cheek.

“Oh? What’d you make?” She asks as she leans her face into your touch, innocently. Her hands don’t budge.

“Bacon, eggs,” you list and Sevika nods in approval, “Pancakes, and coffee...” You drawl, and her eyes shut as she groans. “Uh-huh, are you gonna join me?” You ask, resting your hands on her chest and waiting for her answer.

She looks you in the eyes, until her gaze starts to go south, lingering at the low neckline of your nightgown. Your cleavage makes a sudden appearance she didn’t notice at first. Sevika was half-awake, but she’s definitely not anymore; whistling at the sight of you. Her grasp on your thigh leaves and goes to pull your satin robe down your shoulder. Surprised, you scold, “Sevika!”

“What?” She goes for the other shoulder and you make no attempts to stop her. “I can’t admire my wife?” She says, resting her rough hand on your thigh again, but this time she’s slowly massaging it up and down.

“You can, but I made you breakfast and it’ll get cold.”

“Baby, that’s what microwaves are for.” She coos, venturing her hand between your legs, slowly making her way up.

They almost flinch shut and Sevika awes. Your face turns warm and you look away, towards your surroundings, and although she's right about the food, you guys are still outside. You mutter out, “But..”

“But what?” She asks. You continue to aimlessly look in the distance, even though you know damn well there’s nothing but farmland and horses. Sevika chuckles, “The horses don’t care and we don’t get visitors. Even if we did, you know I’d kill ‘em before they could see you like this, right?” You fix your lips to respond, but you pause when the hand on your stomach moves down to the lace hemline of your gown. Her fingers curl underneath, waiting to search. “I miss you.” She whispers.

Her words tug at your heart and her puppy eyes burn into you. You didn’t need much convincing anyways, but you fold and you mumble out, “I know what you’re doing...” Your marriage has taught two things, if Sevika “misses you” she either really does, or she really wants to fuck you.

You reach for her hat and perch it on your head; an unspoken rule about cowboys Sevika once said. She grins up at you as you slide your hand over her shoulder, closing some distance between you two.

“I do miss you, I miss you all the time.” She assures, leaning in to freely press kisses on your shoulder. Her fingers finally lift your dress and her kisses begin to trail towards your neck. You can deduce which “missing” she meant, and you feel the same way.

Exhaling, you tip your head to the side to give her more room. Sevika’s lips marking the new territory makes you tremble like it was the first time. It’s no surprise that after years of being together, she still makes your heart race.

You move with her as she leans back, tugging you towards her. You involuntarily let out a squeak that she snickers at, and she gives you a kiss on the cheek and several more, distracting you from her spreading your legs indecently; hooking your outer leg over her strong forearm.

She wastes no time to ride up the front of your nightgown, showcasing your plain, flimsy, black, cat-themed underwear. Sevika doesn’t bat an eye, of course, she’s used to it.

Right now, she’s only focused on one thing. Her hand purposefully ghosts over, so she can ogle at you writhing with anticipation. Your knitting brows, heavy breathing— it excites her. She’s getting worked up from watching you. “Look how bad you want it.” She teases affectionately.

Sevika presses her middle finger on your damp, clothed clit, observing and feeling every reaction that pulses from you. You let out a soft curse and she rewards it by moving her finger in tight circles. Sevika listens to how your breath staggers and clenches from the ache between her own legs. She tugs your underwear to the side to properly admire how wet you are. The cool, morning air makes you shiver.

Pinning the fabric with her ring finger, she sensually swipes her middle up your folds. “All for me?”

Her voice has you melting, throbbing, and you're unable to contain the whine that escapes you. Sevika’s gaze locks on your lips the second she hears it, as if she’s hunting for the next one. You make sure she’ll be able to catch it, meeting her halfway for a kiss.

She grins as your mouths collide, eyes fluttering shut and lips passionately fitting together like a two-piece puzzle. She brings another finger to aid her in rubbing soft circles on your clit; just enough to build pressure, but not enough to relieve it. The tip of her tongue runs over your parted bottom lip, waiting for an invitation in, and you allow it with a breathy moan. She languidly teases her tongue across yours, then pulls away just to watch you follow after her— which you do— and you can see how much she got off on it.

Panting impatiently, “Sev…“ But you trail off as she gravitates towards you with another magnetizing, searing kiss. Your hands find the side of her neck, brushing up her nape.

She sweetly pecks your lips, breaking away for a second, “You’re,” she kisses you again, “Just,” and again, “So,” and again, “Pretty. I had to look.” She murmurs.

Your face becomes home for a cheesy smile Sevika reciprocates dotingly. You lean in to kiss her, and as your lips brush against each other’s, her fingers suddenly resume their movement, this time firmly and relieving. You whimper over her lips, and she chuckles darkly against yours. She kisses you deeply as she steadily coaxes your clit on a perfect pressure point.

Your legs begin to bow together from the overwhelming sensation, slowly coming to its climax, and Sevika takes it as a sign to slip her fingers into you. The stretch hurts good as she curls her fingers into ‘come-hither’ motions right where you need them. The previous build up resumes instantly and you’re back where you left off, right on the brink.

“Vika, I’m gonna…“ You softly cry out, unable to finish your words because she only increases her speed at the mention of her name. Now her thick fingers are squelching in and out of you and the sounds are fogging your brain. If it wasn’t for the chirping birds and the huffing horses in the distance, you would’ve forgotten where you were.

“Not yet, just a little longer.” She says— demands even.

You sob out a moan, akin to a tantrum, “I can’t— fuck — I can’t.”

Sevika plants a kiss on the corner of your lips; her fingers refusing to stop hitting your rough spot. “You can, baby. You don’t want me to stop, do you?” She whispers.

She puts up a good point you can’t argue. You don’t want her to stop, you’d hate for her to stop. “N- No, but maybe slow— hnng— d— shit— down?” You bargain half-heartedly in stutters and stammers.

“Where’s the fun in that? And if you come right now, so help me god.” She growls. Yet, the way she’s fucking you is telling you the opposite; there’s a thin line on torture and mind-breaking pleasure she’s crossing and you love it. You try not to love it too much before you explode on the spot.

She can see how much you're trying, squirming, whining with every fast-paced stroke. One word from her and you’d come undone: that’s her favorite part. She extends her free arm, the one propping your leg up, and she puts four fingers on your clit, then rubs it harshly. That does it. You actually can’t hold it anymore unless you want half an orgasm. Your head jerks back and Sevika’s cowboy hat begins to slide off your head. There’s tears in your eyes, your legs are weak and shaking. You need it, you need it bad.

And she gives it to you. “Such a good girl. Go on, come for me.”

Your release hits hard, like a cork popping off a champagne bottle. Your eyes pin shut as it reverberates down to your toes, and courses up your spine. You let out high-pitched, breathy moans, and Sevika harmonizes— not mockingly — soothingly, as she softly rubs out your orgasm. Your underwear falls back in place as she removes her fingers out of you and off of you. You wince and she murmurs an apology with a smug smile.

“Holy shit,” You exhale as your legs fall over Sevika’s thighs. You can feel the air getting warmer, and as your eyes flutter open, the sky is colored a blue only a risen sun could paint. “I love you.”

“I love you.” She replies with a smile.

“Your turn now.”

She laughs heartily, briefly biting her lower lip, “But I thought the breakfast was gonna get cold?”

You grin, “‘That’s what microwaves are for.’”

#sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika smut #sevika x y/n #sevika x female reader

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yandere-daydreams · 8 months ago

Text

Title: Puppy Love.

Pairing: Yandere!Yuuji x Reader x Yandere!Yuuta

Word Count: 2.6k.

TW: Hybrid AU, Puppy!Yuuta, Puppy!Yuuji, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Somnophilia, Biting, Oral Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, and Obsessive Behavior.

You heard Yuuji, first.

He’d always been the louder of the pair, not that it was a very steep competition. You hadn’t had him for very long, but—well, it was less that he came out of his shell quickly and more that he’d never had a shell at all. It only taken a day or so for him to get used to the idea of living with you and Yuuta full-time, a week for him to start acting like he’d always been a part of your little family, and another month before he started pawing at your bedroom door at night and whining when you reminded him that you preferred to sleep alone (meaning: without multiple two-hundred pound hybrids draped across you). He was energetic, overly friendly, even if you wouldn’t go so far as to call him disobedient or difficult. You figured having a more, for lack of better phrasing, dog-like hybrid in the house would be good for Yuuta, bring out his more instinctive side. In reality, the added stress of an overly hyper roommate had only worked to make him just a little more anxious than he already was, but you still thought it was good for him. If nothing else, Yuuji gave Yuuta something to focus on that wasn’t you, and Yuuta could use more distractions.

But Yuuji, though—He was what you should’ve been focusing on, at the moment. Through the haze of exhaustion, you could hear the door creaking open, the muffled sound of padded feet on carpeting and the tiny, almost inaudible vocalizations Yuuji never seemed to realize anyone else could hear. Soon enough, you felt the foot of the mattress dip as he clambered onto your bed. Any other night, you would’ve forced yourself to sit up and tell him to leave, would’ve called on the dozens of books and hundreds of blogposts you’d read about hybrid obedience training and found the strength to ‘reinforce boundaries despite personal feelings’, but you were tired beyond the point of discipline, and Yuuji didn’t mean any harm. One night of letting him curl up next to you wouldn’t hurt, even if you did make a mental note to show Yuuta some extra affection in the morning – just to keep the scales balanced. For all their many differences, they were both prone to crying favoritism.

You never stirred, but you settled deeper into place, curling into yourself as Yuuji remained at your feet. You might’ve fallen asleep entirely, if Yuuji hadn’t spoken.

His voice was quiet, low, audibly trepidatious. It reminded you of Yuuta’s nervous, stuttering inclination, although not quite as unsteady. “Are you sure it’s alright to…?”

“I am.” You weren’t sure who you expected to answer, but the sound of Yuuta’s voice almost startled you awake. It was normal for Yuuji to bend the rules. Yuuta was supposed to know better. “She’s asleep, right? Just don’t wake her up.”

Yuuji didn’t respond, but you felt the sheets draped over your shift, a warm hand curl around your calf. For as little reassurance as Yuuta had provided, it seemed to be enough for Yuuji.

It was half curiosity and half fatigue that kept you quiet as Yuuji moved around you. Whatever they might’ve been up to, nothing could’ve seemed worse than having to wake up and sacrifice much-needed sleep for the sake of scolding your (usually angelic) pets. At worst, you’d wait until you could catch them in the act or, better yet, grit your teeth and bare it until they left. Anything not to have to deal with this for another eight hours.

You rolled onto your side, twisting your leg out of Yuuji’s hand and letting out a soft groan as you curled into yourself. It wasn’t a subtle position, let alone an inviting one, but Yuuji only whimpered, only edged closer to you. This time, when he touched you, it was to take up your shoulder – his hold gentle and breathing heavy as he nudged you onto your back. Whatever he was doing, he seemed determined to see it through. It might’ve been more admirable, if you hadn’t been so confused.

You felt your sheets pull away from you next, then another hand on your ankle, Yuuji’s rough claws pressing lightly into your skin as his loose grip flexed. You felt him draw your legs apart, and with the corner of your mouth already quirking downward, you started to open your eyes, to sit up and—

Suddenly, you felt something wet and warm press into your cunt, and you stopped moving entirely.

Whatever lingering exhaustion you might’ve felt was swiftly replaced with cold, pointed terror. This time, you forced yourself to hold still, it wasn’t out of confusion or curiosity, but an abrupt and paralyzing fear.

It wasn’t a feeling Yuuji seemed to share. His tongue was already moving across the length of your slit, his drool already soaking into the silk of your panties. He was making those noises, again; deep and throaty, closer to the sounds a prowling animal would make than anything remotely similar to human speech. Both of his hands found their way to your ass, claws biting into the plush flesh as he buried his face in your pussy. He was just as rough with his mouth – his pointed canines ghosting over the inside of your thighs and catching on the material of your panties, his broad togue laving over your covered entrance as if he could taste you through the fabric. It was only when he bowed his head, when the bridge of his flat nose ground against your clit that you started to wonder if he actually could, but forced yourself not to linger on the idea for very long. Thinking about what he was doing, assigning a motive to his actions – that would only make this worse. Thinking at all would only make this worse.

You bit down on the side of your tongue with as much force as you could afford to use, willing yourself to hold still, to not react – a wounded animal, playing dead as to not attract the attention of a predator. You felt Yuuji’s hands shift, calloused fingertips pressing into your thighs, then—

“Stop.”

Yuuta. Wonderful, miraculous, well-behaved Yuuta. You would’ve sighed, if you weren’t holding yourself so stiff. You could hear him moving closer, too – his footsteps feather-light compared to Yuuji’s. You braced yourself to break up a fight (there’d been a few when Yuuji first came home with you, when you first realized that Yuuta had never learned to share), but rather than barking, growling, any of the sounds that came with two animals trying to tear each other apart, there was only rustling fabric, another shift in gravity as Yuuta positioned himself by your side. “Y-you’re doing it wrong,” he stammered, and something deep inside of you seemed to curl up and die. “You have to take her clothes off first. Otherwise, she won’t feel anything.”

It was almost strange, hearing him take charge. In any other context, you might’ve been proud.

Yuuji whined, but obliged. His nails scraped against your hips as he balled his fist around the fabric and tore, making no effort to spare the delicate fabric. The remaining scraps were discarded with just as little care, and before you could fully wrap your mind around what was happening, he was back to lapping at your cunt. With the only barrier between you gone, it felt less like he was trying to eat you out and more like he was trying to eat you alive – his tongue too thick and too long, his hands too big and too prone to groping at whatever was underneath him, the boundless energy you were so used to finding either infinitely adorable or impossibly exasperating sudden not quite as harmless than you’d always considered it to be.

The next time he found your clit, you couldn’t stifle your reactions – little, half-choked whimpers and moans escaping despite your pursed lips. Your hips twitched, and for the first time, you felt Yuuji draw back willingly. He was such a sweet dog. Even with your eyes clenched shut, you could picture him tilting his head to the side, his ears flopping in the same direction and his big, dark eyes going full puppy-dog. Usually, you’d melt at the sight, give him whatever he was asking for and comfort him the best you could, but you didn’t have much comfort to spare, and Yuuta was already answering on your behalf.

“That means she likes it,” he explained, his voice a little quieter, a little more airy than it’d been before. “Keep going, she’ll make more.”

There was a short lapse, passed in silence. For a second, you let yourself believe he’d come to his senses, that he might stop, but it was only for a second. His response was enough to dash any remaining hope you might’ve had. “…will she get louder?”

“Mhm.” And then, with the slightest note of pride, “She does for me, at least.”

And just like that, Yuuji’s head dipped, his mouth latching onto your pussy with a renewed concentration. You willed yourself not to move, not to think, not to do anything that would mean having to open your eyes and acknowledge what was happening, but it was impossible not to feel the heat of his mouth against your cunt, not to let the sounds of saliva and arousal against tongues and skin seep into the back of your mind and tint the pleasure slowly starting to pool at the pit of your stomach with a vicious, sickeningly sweet, nectar-like quality. It wasn’t long before your own pitiful noises were just as difficult to suppress, before your hips were jutting upward involuntarily to meet Yuuji’s mouth, before you could feel a mix of drool and slick and every other ungodly thing pooling on your sheets beneath you. Yuuta shifted beside you, edging close enough for his thigh to press against your arm. “You’re—You’re making a mess, she’ll be mad if—”

His voice cut out abruptly, drowned out by a sudden, bubbling moan from Yuuji. Yuuta tried to catch his attention again to the same result until, finally, there was a low growl. Yuuji yelped has his face was shoved further into the space between your thighs – Yuuta pushing down on the back of his head, as little as you wanted to picture your sweet Yuuta doing something like that – but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, his lapping only seemed to get faster, more reckless, more wild. You didn’t want to, no part of you wanted to cum because of your pet’s mouth, but you could feel the pressure mounting, the heat building, the walls of your pussy convulsing around his tongue as you reached your climax.

There was nothing you could do to stop yourself from crying out as you came, any hope you might’ve had of making it through this without letting either Yuuji or Yuuta know how much of it you’d been conscious for immediately abandoned. You tried to make good use of your adrenaline, to shove Yuuji away and run, but he’d always been strong, even for a hybrid, and he didn’t even have to pull away to pin your hips to the mattress and nurse you through your orgasm, his tongue now fucking into you unabashedly. He only stopped when the last of your aftershocks had died out, when it was all you could do to lie limp and mutter all the little ‘no’, ‘stop’, ‘please’s that you’d pictured yourself screaming only seconds ago. Even then, the separation wasn’t made by choice – no, it was Yuuta who finally, finally dragged him off of you. Even through the darkness of your bedroom, you could see his fingers knotted in Yuuji’s untamable hair, his knuckles white and his grip steadfast. By the time he let go, Yuuji’s back was straight and he’d gone surprisingly quiet – his dark eyes glassy and fixed on yours. By the time you could force yourself to look to Yuuta, he wasn’t much better. He was focused on you, too, but he didn’t look quite as dazed, quite as mindless. His lips were parted, but his eyes were narrowed, and he was wearing the expression he’d worn when you first brought Yuuji home, all displaced resentment and palpable betrayal. If you hadn’t known him so well, you might’ve called it anger.

Yuuji broke the silence. He whined sharply, slumping forward and kneading down where his hands were still planted on your hips. You opened your mouth, ready to tell him to get down, to get out, but Yuuta cut in before you had the chance to spit anything out. “Turn her over. It’ll be easier if she’s on her stomach.”

Yuuji didn’t hesitate. You felt his hands on your midriff, and then, you were on your chest, Yuuji’s form hunched over you as he ground something stiff and hot and leaking against your ass. You tried to push yourself up, to get away, but you were barely able to get your knees underneath you before Yuuji’s arms were around your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck and his pointed teeth bared against the side of your throat. He didn’t growl, didn’t bite, but you went still regardless. You didn’t think Yuuji would hurt you, but you never would've thought he would do this, either.

Whatever aggression he might’ve felt faded quickly – as soon as he started rutting against your ass. You could feel him panting against your throat, his breath humid and stifling, and his chest pressing into your back. He was too close. He was too much. When he spoke, it was almost deafening, even if you knew it couldn’t be much more than a mumble. “Hurts so bad,” he muttered, as his cock ground uselessly against your ass, your thighs. “Been hurtin’ so bad since you took me home. I was so happy when Yuuta told me you could help, and—and, that you wouldn’t mind, and—”

His voice cut out abruptly as the blunt head of his cock caught on your entrance and, with a cracked whine, thrust into you. There was no time to adjust, to block out – just a sudden heat inside of you and the immediate, overwhelming fullness of his cock battering the walls of your pussy. “Off,” you half cried, half screamed – your voice a jagged, shaking mess. “Get down, stop, get—”

But Yuuji wasn’t listening. His tongue lapped clumsily at your neck as he fucked into in slow, languid thrusts – his hips slamming into your ass with enough force to bruise. You went limp, sobbing openly into your sheets, but Yuuji was strong enough to hold you up on his own, to not have to care what state you were in underneath him. So caught up in your own misery, you didn’t notice Yuuta moving until he was in front of you, until his hand had worked its way underneath your chin and tilted your head back far enough for your tear-clouded gaze to find his. His expression was that same mix of resentment and pity and bitter, bitter anger. Still, when your eyes met his, the corner of his lips quirked up, some of the harsher lines around his eyes fading into nothing.

“I wouldn’t be this rough with you.” His tone was flat, softened. He ran his thumb over your cheek, leaning down just far enough for his lips to brush against the top of your head. “I would be a good mate. You don’t need anyone else.”

Again, he leaned in, slotting his lips against yours with a feather-light sort of gentleness. At the same time, you heard Yuuji moan, felt his teeth sink into your shoulder, and started to wish you couldn’t feel anything at all.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #hybrid au #yandere imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #jututsu kaisen imagines #yandere itadori yuji #yandere yuji #yuji x reader #yuta x reader #yandere yuta #yandere okkotsu yuta

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