#it was tempting to give him big eyelashes

[edenfire]

💀💚 zestial 💚💀

this one is for all you zestial stans out there~☆

I still have a few more to do before I'll have the full set, so if there's a character you want, I'll probably have them😂💞

[moonstruckme]

Hey angel!! hope ur doing well!!

i was wondering if I could request roommate!marauders where they have crushes on reader buttt she already has a bf but he's just a total jerk.... and u sorta get the idea?? (if u haven't done one like this already)

much love!!! <3333

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: douchebag boyfriend, marauders fancy reader but don't genuinely want her to cheat or end her relationship for them

(poly)roommate!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

It’s heartbreaking how lovely you look first thing in the morning. Sweet, rumpled pajamas, plodding gait, sunlight stretching over features still soft with sleep. You raise your hand to cover a yawn as you enter the kitchen, eyelashes still drooping like they’ve weights sewn into them. 

“Morning,” you say on the tail end. 

“Morning.” James opens one arm to you. You step into the hug automatically, and he drops a kiss to your head, his own private indulgence. You’re eyeing the omelet he’s frying up with his other hand. “Want one?” 

“Mm, wish I could,” your voice is a somnolent mumble, “but Dale’s taking me to breakfast in a bit.” 

James tries not to react, but his hold on you stiffens some. From the living room, he hears Sirius scoff. “Oh.” 

“I’m sure your omelet would be better.” You pat his side, moving out from under his arm to go to the coffee pot. “We’re going to this cafe he likes, and they never have anything I want. Still, I can hardly show up full.” 

James feels himself frown. Typical of your boyfriend to take you somewhere you don’t even like. Perhaps he’s a tad biased, but James thinks you should eat one of his omelets and show up full just to teach him a lesson. 

He plates up the one he’s just finished. You tail him into the living room as he delivers it to Sirius, curling your feet up underneath you on the couch. Remus is sitting in the armchair reading the paper. He and James have already had their breakfasts, but you and Sirius are always the last up on weekends.

“Are you finished with the funnies?” you ask Remus. 

He looks up at you with a tenderness James doesn’t know how you can’t see. “Yeah,” he says, shaking out a page. “Here.” 

Sirius snickers at your choice of reading material as you reach across him for it. You nudge his thigh with your knee. “Bite me.” 

“Anywhere you’d like me to, babe.” He winks. 

You roll your eyes and fold the page to read, well used to Sirius’ flirting. Similarly to how he’d done with Remus, Sirius’ ill-advised tactic for winning you over involves alternating between taunting you relentlessly and acting like his affection for you is all one big joke. It only barely worked on Remus—James’ interference had been required there, and that was before he’d admitted to himself his own feelings for either of the two boys—so James doesn’t understand why Sirius would give it another go with you. 

“Oh.” Remus closes his paper, seeming to remember something. “I was wondering if you might have time to go with me to the farmer’s market this morning. We’re out of eggs, but I can’t haggle with the woman like you do.” 

You give him a sorry sort of smile. “I would, but Dale’s meant to pick me up at ten.”

“Oh, well.” Sirius rolls his eyes, chewing malignantly on a bite of omelet. “If Dale said he’ll be here at ten, then surely that’s what’s happening.” 

You bump his thigh again good naturedly. “Be nice.” 

James bites his tongue, and even Remus reopens his newspaper with a tad more vigor than necessary. Sirius is by far the most vocal with you about your boyfriend’s flaws, but your roommates all hate him. The guy’s a prick. James would never in a million years try to convince you to leave your partner for them—and despite Sirius’ joking, he knows neither of the other boys would want that either—but if you broke up with Dale, he would be very tempted to throw a party. 

James really doesn’t understand how someone like you could end up with someone so holistically unpleasant as your boyfriend. He’s rude, inconsiderate, he doesn’t express any gratitude for the sweet things you do for him, and he is never where he says he’s going to be when he says he’s going to be there. He shows so little regard for anyone but himself. If he told you he was going to pick you up at ten in the morning, he’s just as likely to arrive at three in the afternoon. Even for your half-hearted defense of him, it’s nearly ten and you’ve made no move to change out of your pajamas or get ready, because you know he won’t be here on time. It irks your roommates to no end to see you tolerate such poor treatment. 

“Maybe you can go with Remus to the farmer’s market,” you tell Sirius. “You seem like you could negotiate.” 

“Sirius doesn’t know how much eggs are supposed to cost,” Remus says idly. 

“Oi!” Sirius objects through a mouthful of omelet. “I do so.” 

James smiles at him. “Really. How much do you think eggs cost, love?” 

Sirius manages to take another bite while James is asking, so his mouth is conveniently too full to answer. 

“I can manage it on my own,” Remus says with indulgent fondness. “Dove, do me one favor, though?” 

You lift your coffee. “Sure.” 

“Don’t let him summon you outside with his horn again.” 

There’s a brief but thick silence while you finish swallowing your coffee and all three boys try not to look too obviously judgmental (Sirius trying the least, naturally). The purse of your lips reveals some embarrassment. 

Still, your voice comes out unconcerned. “It’s not a big deal to me. It’s not like we’re in school and I need him to come to the door and meet my parents. It’s a time saver.” 

“It’s rude,” says Remus gently. “You deserve someone who will come to the door for you.” 

James’ thoughts exactly. 

“Sure you don’t want some toast or something while you wait?” James asks, partly to dispel the tension and partly because he really does think you should eat something if Dale isn’t likely to be here until the afternoon. “You could call it an appetizer.” 

You stand with your emptied coffee mug, passing an affectionate hand over James’ hair as you move between his legs and the coffee table. “Thanks,” you say genuinely, “but I’m alright. I’m going to go get ready.” 

However eager James is to avoid the tension that comes from insulting (or, really, just speaking frankly about) your boyfriend, Sirius has no such concerns. “While we’re telling Dale things,” he says after you, “be sure to remind him that our flat has a three-strike roommate tears policy. Next time you come home crying, Jamie and I get to make a house call.” 

Your laughter echoes down the hallway. “Sure, I’ll let him know.” 

Sirius looks at James, perplexed. “Did I sound like I was joking? I was not using my joking voice.” 

James pats his leg consolingly.

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader + piss kink

you love following toji around the house while talking his ears off. he's making his coffee and you're drinking, telling him about the book you've been reading. he's watching the tv and you're curled on his lap, whispering fun facts about the movie that's playing on the screen. he's doing pushups and you're laying down beside him, counting his reps for him (you mess up the numbers just to have him roll his eyes at you with a smirk.)

whatever room he's in – you're there. he can't get rid of you but it's not like he even wants that. he likes the attention, he loves how much you want his. and he loves listening you, so he really doesn't mind. he thinks of you like a little kitten, jogging after him the second he pushes himself off the couch. it's sweet.

until—

he marches into the bathroom and you're right on his heel, rambling about your day. toji looks at you through the mirror, curious as to when you're going to realize that you're now in the bathroom with him. but he doesn't say anything other than a little raspy "yeah?" at whatever you just said.

he stands in front of the toilet and raises the lid while watching you plop down onto the counter right next to him without a care in the world. he raises a brow, his scarred lip quirking up into a sly smirk.

your eyes are on him. you're smiling, too.

you know exactly what you're doing.

toji's hands unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants, all while keeping eye-contact. he wants to see how far you're willing to go.

you don't stop talking; cocking your head to the side and leaning forward, you tempt him. he doesn't miss the way your thighs press together and the way you bite down on your lip. you're not smooth at all. that only makes him love you even more – you're just as nasty as he is.

it's getting harder and harder to keep your eyes on his now though... he has pulled down his pants and underwear and you wanna look at it. your sentences are drawn out, your words are starting to mix up.

"c'mon, keep going."

you wanna hate how smug he is. how cocky, how arrogant. but you can't, because the only thing you can think about right now is taking his fat cock balls deep down your throat. your lips part at the thought and toji groans under his breath.

sweetly fluttering your eyelashes at him, you continue mumbling about your day. you can't surpress the hum that crawls up from the depths of your stomach when you finally hear the steady stream of piss hitting the toilet bowl.

you break eye-contact and his chest swells with pride. he can hear your breath hitch, he can almost see your mouth salivate.

"well, aren't you a little pervert, hm?"

your gazes meet again and he expects you to pout at him like you usually do, but no – not this time. lips curling up in a syrupy, sugary way, you purr at him. "ya love it."

toji growls. you're trying to kill him, surely. your eyes are low but still as playful as ever, your thighs pressing together even harder to relieve the growing need between them.

his eyebrows raise when you suddenly jump off the counter and take your place right beside him. eyes glued to his, you blindly reach for his hardening cock. tugging at the nape of his neck with your free hand, you pull him down and press your lips against his. you feel him grin, you feel him twitch in your hand.

he's so warm and he's so big; you give him a few slow, lazy strokes before tucking him back inside his underwear. he tries to pull away from the kiss, clearly a little confused by your actions, but you don't let him.

you nip at his bottom lip and he groans into your mouth. you give his now clothed bulge two very light taps and then you're the one that's pulling away, leaving him chasing after you.

giving him a giggle, you back up and jump back onto the counter. he can't believe you – you really are a little minx, sitting pretty before him while he's now hard and needy with new, hot ideas flooding his mind.

he wants to know what other dirty things you're thinking about, what other fucked up things you'll do for him. what he'll do for you.

— you're in for a long, long night.

[fuctacles]

<< nine | 😺 | eleven >>

Posting early so you have something to think about on Thanksgiving. I'll be taking a break from posting my wips in December to focus on all the events. Speaking of, check out @genderthings @stmonstercalendar and @stevieweek

"They're so—" Eddie's sentence is broken with a yelp when Stephanie slaps his hands. 

"Fluffy?" Steph offers, going back to closing up her salon. "Soft? Healthy? They won't be if you keep touching them."

He huffs, slotting his hands under his armpits so he wouldn't be tempted to reach up. 

"If you want, I can get you some of that conditioner to take home. You could charm all the city girls with your nice hair." She turns to him with a smile, looking over her work once again. She pulls a strand of his hair back in place and Eddie imagines his band making it big, touring with a private hairdresser fussing over him before every concert. They'd take all the cats on the tour bus too.

"The city girls like my unkempt poor artist looks, thank you very much," he jokes. "The boys may appreciate it, though."

"For the boys, then." She smiles. "Did you walk here?"

He shakes his head. 

"Nah, I'm too lazy for that. You?"

"I try to walk to work as long as the weather lets me," she says. "Need to keep the old bones in shape." She pats her plush thighs distractingly, but it's not enough for Eddie to miss her words. 

He rolls his eyes. 

"Your bones aren't old. I was gonna offer you a ride, but maybe you deserve to walk since you're so young and energetic," he sends her a wry look. 

"Ah, but I always wanted a ride in a big old kidnapper van!" She bats her eyelashes at him, her playful pout in full swing. Eddie is so, so weak. 

"Don't call it a kidnapper van." He scrunches his nose. "It's a stoner slash garage band van," he corrects her.

"Ah, mea culpa. Lead me to your stoner van, then?"

"You call yourself old and yet you act so insufferable," he shakes his head with a smile and offers her his elbow. 

"Gotta keep something about me young," she jokes back and then yelps when Eddie pinches her in the side as she grabs his arm. 

"I think there's plenty young about you," he says, giving her a pointed up and down. 

"Yeah, bet you say it to all the old ladies," she snarks back. "When you help them cross the street or carry their—ah!"

"Oh my gods, Stephanie!" Eddie cuts her off, pressing her against the side of his van. "If you think you're old then call me a geriatrophiliac, because you're so hot I can't think about anyone else."

Steph's eyes are wide and her cheeks are flushed and he wants to kiss her so badly. He backs away, though, because he's a gentleman (sometimes) and wants to give her some space. Besides, he probably just crossed some lines he shouldn't have. 

She breathes out once he steps back, and chuckles. 

"You're just saying that," she deflects, making something in Eddie boil. "You're out there in college and I'm stuck here with my small hair salon."

"Oh, you mean you're a successful hot businesswoman with her own salon and plans to branch it out?" He raises an eyebrow, putting his hands on his hips.

"Plans," she points out. 

"Very plausible plans," he adds. 

Stephanie shrugs. 

"Just, get in the car before I lose my patience." He shakes his head. But then seeing her hesitance he deflates, losing his bravado instantly. "Unless you're not comfortable with that? I promise I'll drive you straight home."

"Why would I be uncomfortable?" she asks, her voice a little small like she knows exactly why but doesn't want to put it out there. Albeit reluctantly, Eddie will do it for her. 

"Because I said I'm into you and now I'm inviting you inside my shady not-kidnapper van," he reminds her. 

"Yeah, but you're just saying that to make me feel better." Steph shakes her head softly, smiling her small, self-deprecating smile. "Which I do appreciate, but..." she trails off with a shrug.

Eddie is fed up with her. As beautiful as she is, her head is a maze she's clearly getting lost in and someone needs to pull her out of it. 

"Can I kiss you?" he butts in, realizing she's losing steam.

"What?" Her eyebrows jump in surprise. 

"Oh, you heard me." He takes a step closer, crowding her in. Maybe space is the opposite of what she needs. "Can I kiss you?" he repeats. "On the mouth. Tongue and all, if you don't mind."

He watches in real time as her cheeks turn red and her gaze drops down to his lips. 

"Here?" she breathes out. 

"Yes, here. So everyone knows how lucky I am." 

She looks up into his eyes, searching for any deceit but she won't find any. Her lips press together and come back shinier, wetter, and Eddie's own tingle in anticipation.

"Are you sure?"

Eddie's done with her. And done for her. He knows she won't admit what she wants, won't ask for it even when laid down on a silver platter in front of her. So he changes his question. 

"Just say 'no'." He leans just a tiny bit closer. 

She doesn't. Her eyes zero on his lips and her chest expands with her deep breaths. Eddie leans in more, and she twitches like she wants to reach back but won't. 

He closes the distance. 

Stephanie smells of hairspray and coffee. She's soft and perfect and he's afraid she'll flee if he touches her, but to ground them both, he reaches with his arms to cup her elbows, a safe place to hold her and not spook her. He moves his lips gently, slowly, but then he feels a tug on his jacket, which she grabs to hold on to him, and presses just a little bit closer. 

Eddie feels the exhale from her nose on his cheek as she relaxes against the van, giving him the illusion of towering over her, despite them being almost the same height. He slowly drags his hands up to caress her neck, angling her jaw gently how he wants it. When he finally sucks on her pouty bottom lip as he's been dreaming of, she exhales into him, tentative yet asking. She jolts at the touch of his tongue but parts her lips further anyway.

She feels like heaven and Eddie is almost ashamed by the sound he makes after tasting her properly, but her hand slides to his waist and he doesn't care about making a fool of himself in front of her and anyone else for that matter. 

If she wanted to, he'd deck himself in full jester attire just to make her smile, to take the load of worry off her chest. Oh, how he wants to take things off her chest. It's been a while since a simple kiss made him feel so giddy, so exhilarated, and he hopes she feels it too. 

He's excited for what's to come, not just in bed, though he hopes, yearns for that too, but making her happy and whole, seeing herself how he sees her. 

The sharp sound of a whistle pulls them apart. 

"Get a room, kids!" someone laughs jovially as a car slowly passes by, but by the time their heads snap towards it, it's gone behind the corner. 

"Well," Eddie chuckles softly. "Still feeling old?" he asks Steph with a smile that quickly falters when he can't read her expression. A million things he could have done wrong fleet through his head and he takes half a step back, but her hand is still holding on to his jacket. 

She's still relaxed against the van, so he forces his brain to quiet and waits. Her head tips back, exposing her neck and the faintest hint of an Adam's apple, invisible otherwise. He's ridiculously happy to be able to see it and hopes he'll be able to suck on it too. 

"I feel..." she finally says, and Eddie latches to every sound leaving her lips. "Something, for sure."

Nothing else comes so he trails his palm down her arm to gently squeeze at her wrist. 

"Good something?" he asks hopefully.

Their eyes meet again, giving him some relief, though the prolonged silence is fighting against it. He still waits and gives her time to think. She doesn't shake off his hand so he rubs his thumb against her pulse point.

Until it twists in his grasp, and he's ready to let go but she grabs at his fingers to squeeze back.

"I think so," she finally decides, giving him a small, tentative smile. 

my ko-fi bc i'm in deeper shit than i thought

the boys: @wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94

@tartarusknight  @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman

@madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system @lawrencebshoggoth

@hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @dreamercec @manliest-of-muppets

[winterrrnight]

more on this cause this idea is everything to me (also it’s after 1 am and currently I’m listening to mitski so i’m in my feels) and cause I wholeheartedly believe husband!rafe is whipped for his wife and will worship the ground she walks on <3 a husband!rafe x wife!reader blurb <3 for @runningfrom2am who is the love and light of my life <3 cw: fluff, usage of nicknames, intentional lower case, soft soft SOFT rafe <3

part of this little universe <3

you can hear the door open and close, followed by rafe’s heavy footsteps entering inside the mansion from the kitchen where you’re busy cooking up a big pot of pasta for the two of you.

the kitchen is the first place rafe walks in, where he comes to stand behind you and firmly wrap his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder.

“hello mrs. cameron,” he murmurs in your ear, pressing a gentle kiss behind your ear.

“hello mr. cameron,” you hum, mixing some spices in the pasta sauce.

“hmm…” he hums, nuzzling against the crook of your neck and taking a deep breath, letting his eyes shut close. you can feel his eyelashes fluttering against your skin. “I missed you,” he whispers gently. “How was work? Not too hectic I hope,”

“It wasn’t baby, it was fine,” you say softly. rafe always tempted you not to work, that he’s earning more than enough for the two of you. but you didn’t really feel like sitting idle for the whole day. it’s a huge mansion you both live in, and there really isn’t much to do when rafe isn’t around for the day. so you prefer your job, something to keep you well busy in the day, put your hard earned education to use and since when did some extra cash hurt someone?

“how was your work?” you ask next.

“mine was fine, just really missed you,” he murmurs. “feels good to be back with you again,”

you can’t help but let a soft smile pull on your lips at his endearing words. “it feels good to be back with you too,” you murmur. you turn your head a bit to press a gentle kiss to his temple, before getting back to finishing the pasta.

rafe stays holding you, his fingers gently caressing over the fabric covering your stomach, his lips ghosting over your neck, shoulder and behind your ear. “hmm… my gorgeous goddess…” he whispers against your neck, pressing a kiss to your pulse point where he feels your heart beat thrum against his lips. “my absolutely perfect goddess… you deserve the whole world you know that?” his words slip out onto your skin like a searing promise. “and… and i promise to give you the whole world… my goddess deserves nothing less than that…” his lips press soft, messy kisses all over your skin, occasionally gently nipping on your skin too to leave the faintest of marks.

you feel your heart practically melt in your chest, causing you to let go of the wooden spoon you were mixing the sauce with. you turn around in his hold, your arms hooking around his neck.

“I’m so in love with you rafe…” you whisper, your breath intermingling with his as your lips brush past his briefly. “so so in love with you…”

“I’m so in love with you too baby…” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “and I always will be…”

you let out a soft sigh at his words as you rest your forehead against his, letting your eyes flutter close. you take a deep breath, letting his scent cloud your senses completely.

you really are deeply in love with him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

— —

sooo what are we thinking???? do we like my take on husband!rafe??? do we want more??? 😁😁 please please give me any sorts of feedback you may have!! 🤍🤍

[princessbrunette]

kinktober : oct 17th

captain price x handjob

one thing about price, is that his pants are always gonna fit snug around the crotch.

you’ve giggled about it before, laying half over his thigh in bed after he’d come home late snuggling into you — half asleep asking why he always wears such ‘tempting pants’ only for him to chuckle nonchalantly, saying something along the lines of “gotta give my best girl a show, don’t I?” before shushing you to back to sleep.

it became your favourite sight once he’d arrive home to you, his sweet doting wife, who can only try her very best to keep her eyes on his in conversation when his cock was practically looking at you first, heavy and visible in his pants, tight belt at his hips only accentuating the shape. you wondered if he was always half hard or something, or if he really was just that long and thick.

sometimes you couldn’t control yourself, you’d just wanna touch on him.

there’s no complaints from john as you lean up to kiss him slow and needy in the hallway when he’d arrive home in all his gear, your hand sliding down his stomach and caressing his bulge, a moan torn from your throat at just the shape under your hand. he smirks to himself, thinking you want something from him. “two steps through the door and you’re asking to get dicked down. y’think m’not tired, love?” he smirks against your mouth, fully willing to give you whatever you want regardless.

you whine a little, and as much as you’d love that— you’re just in the mood to take your time and play with him. so, you drag him to the couch and shove a beer into his hand, the full breadwinner treatment as you unzip his pants. “just wanna play with it. want you to relax, john.” you tell him sweetly through your eyelashes, holding that eye contact as you drool into your palm. he exhales, jaw slack as he shakes his head.

“i must be the luckiest man on earth.” he chuckles, low in his chest and you hum with a sweet little hazed out smile, lips still a little wet from drooling on your hand as you begin to tug at his cock.

“y’so big.” you practically mewl as you slowly stroke him up and down, twisting your hand for his pleasure.

“yeah?” he responds, lips against the tip of his beer bottle as he sips, voice slightly muffled into it and brows furrowed as he watches the movement of your hand. “fuck.” he whispers post swallow.

“mhm…” your voice is breathy and moan-y, and he can’t help but sit forward, reaching to pull you closer.

“you want me to fuck you like this, sweetheart?” he gruffs, placing his beer aside. you pant, your free hand pressing at his chest as you shake your head with doe eyes.

“just wanna see you cum like this, please? can have me afterwards…” you beg, not breaking the eye contact once again as you lean forward and drool, letting it hit the tip, your fingertips smoothing over it and massaging it into his cock.

“fuckin’ ell.” he scratches his beard, tipping his head back against the couch and spreading his thighs, the sight making you wish you took up his offer, but also glad you were being patient. “little minx, you are.” he smirks, his eyes still shut.

soon, his stomach is tensing, and he’s reaching out to grab the nearest thing to him, which happened to be a couch cushion, digging his fingers in as he pants. “shit, baby. right fuckin’ there.” he groans before spitting out pearly liquid into your palm, letting it drip down your wrist. you let out whimpers just at the feeling and how good he looked coming undone.

he finally comes down, barely aware of the feeling of the couch shifting beside him. when he finally comes to, reaching out for you and opening his eyes — he’s stopped in his tracks to see you with your panties off, eagerly using his cum as lube as you stroke your fingers hungrily through your own folds, whimpering. he eyes you with a tongue pressed into his cheek before shaking his head, regaining his strength as he pushes himself up to pin you on your back. “little fuckin’ tease, aren’t you?”

[tetzoro]

☽◯☾ - PEEPING TENDOU

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : He’s always been obsessed with you, but now he finally has the chance to show you how good you’d be together. Hopefully you'll wake up soon to realize it.

꒰ contents ꒱ : MDNI. Please read the tags. tendou satori x reader ; noncon, somno, elements of coercion, mentions of ex!ushijima, slight degradation, fingering, unprotected sex — WC : 961

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ Waning Gibbous ! ꒱ — Kinktober Masterlist ! written for the @ficsforgaza kinktober. please check out the other works by the amazing creators !

Tendou never thought he’d find himself in such a precarious situation. Curled up in your bed, you were a vision with the way your eyelashes kissed your pretty cheeks, mouth slightly parted open as your chest rose and fell. The sight alone shouldn’t have made him ache so badly, an egregious desire coursing through his veins.

The soft, almost seductive glow of moonlight poured into the room, caressing your skin in ways that he could only dream of. A nasty streak of jealousy stung at his heart as he envied all of the things that have touched you so intimately before him.

The two of you had been in the same friend group for years since you dated Ushijima. He'd find every reason to be around you constantly, admiring you from afar and silently cursing his best friend under his breath for getting to you first. Lucky bastard.

It was okay though, he’d find himself by your door many times, furiously pumping his cock to the sounds of the two of you together. He'd try his best to drown out Ushijima’s deep grunts in favor of focusing on how you’d mewl over him, begging him for more.

After he had moved to Paris, he had heard whisperings of the big breakup. Something about Ushijima putting volleyball first and setting off to chase his goals — an act Tendou would’ve never committed. Not if he had you. 

But as fate would have it, Ushijima had sent him an invite to his next big game and booked the flight as soon as he heard you were going — trying to get back with him no doubt. 

Tendou was overjoyed that you were going to let him sleep on your couch in your little apartment in the city. His thoughts flooded with grand delusions on how maybe you’ve changed your mind and wanted him instead, even though you were hosting the majority of the old high school pals – including Ushijima.

But now that he’s back where he belongs, right by your side, he can’t help but crave so much more than his lust-filled daydreams as he watches you sleep right inside the sanctuary of your bedroom.

Surely it wouldn’t hurt if he were to touch himself right now. His wide, wild eyes fixated on the sliver of skin that peeked out from the thin sheet. It was all too tempting, something nudging him forward to act on his impulses.

His slender, lithe fingers slid down his boxers, gripping his half-hard cock and giving it a few hesitant pumps to further bring it to life.

It’s all he wanted to do — really, he didn’t plan on more. But when you shifted in your sleep, revealing the all too thin shorts you had on paired with no underwear underneath, well. He could only resist so much.

Careful not to disturb you, Tendou crawls onto the bed, slightly gripping your thighs and prying them open. The fabric of your shorts was loose enough that he could see your pretty little pussy. Unable to stop himself, his fingers reach out for you, caressing your glistening slit.

He hardly falters when you stir in your sleep, red eyes flitting up to you as you let out the breathiest moan he’s ever had the pleasure of hearing. And he wanted more.

Slipping a digit in, he slowly pumps it in as his other hand focuses on his cock. Everything about you was so sweet, so vulnerable. A beautiful flower ready to be plucked, the fruits of his labor finally ripe for the taking.

Surely you must’ve wanted this, right? You were the one that slept without underwear, that left your door cracked open – just for him. 

And your messy cunt seems to agree, your essence already easily coating his finger. The sounds of your arousal filled the room and drew him in, his nose brushing along your clit so he could take it in his mouth. 

The sounds you let out drove him forward, desperate hips now humping the mattress with a need too great he can’t bother to hold back anymore.

Tucking your pants to the side, he hastily lines himself up, sinking into you with a low groan of your name. The sudden pressure caused you to stir once again, this time your eyes snapping open to the sight before you. 

Tendou’s palm slaps against your mouth as he continues sliding in. Your wide eyes were struck with a swirl of surprise and horror, already brimming with tears as he pushed deeper into you.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Tendou all but coos.  “Not a peep from you.”

You attempted to gasp out his name but with the way his fingers curled into your cheek and dug into your plush skin, it came out as a panicked jumble of a cry. The fear in your voice only spurred him on, cock pulsing as he began to thrust into you. He felt your walls constrict around him, welcoming him in despite your feeble attempt to push him off of you. 

But you just kept trying to make noise.

“Quiet.” He hissed, his patience starting to wear thin. “Do you really want to wake everyone up? Have Ushiwaka come and see you like this? Desperate? Pathetic?”

You stop squirming, eyes widening even more. He had you right where he wanted you and let out a little chuckle at how easy it was. He really should’ve done this sooner had he known how quickly you’d give in.

“You can be good for me, can’t you?” His voice switches back to something sugary as he grunts with every slow roll of his hips. “The only thing I want to hear out of that pretty little mouth are those sweet moans I know you’re capable of making.”

[damn-stark]

Chapter 9 Pure as The Driven Snow

Chapter 9 of Moonlight

A/N- We’re back with new chapters! I hope you guys like it. I got real nervous writing this. I don't know why! Also is it a sign that your dragon likes your lover more than your husband?

Warning- some swearing, talks of pregnancy, Angst!, fluff, hunting SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- After 1x10 & before 2x01

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW MONTHS AGO*

“Dragon fruit for the dragon Princess?”

“Pearl necklace for the Siren of Driftmark?”

“Oranges? They are good for a growing babe.”

You touch your 6-month-old swollen belly and come to another stop in front of a stand to study the big round oranges stacked so neatly on the crates.

“How much?” You ask the vendor.

The man puts his hands on his hips and studies his fruit for a moment before facing you. “Discount for you Princess. 5 Silver dragons.”

You glance at Aemond, and he makes his hesitation known before handing you your pouch of money. He doesn’t find this trip necessary, he says that whatever you want can be brought to you right away, especially because you’re with child, but, being stuck in the same rooms all day is torture! You told him the baby and you would go mad while batting your eyelashes really sweetly and he hesitantly accepted without a fight.

“I’ll give you 10 golden dragons instead of silver,” you tell the vendor as you get out the golden coins that make the man’s eyes almost pop out of eyes. “Find good use for it.”

The man shares a nervous laugh and takes the money, but holds your hand before he steps away and bows his head. “Thank you, Princess. Thank you, may the gods bless you and yours.”

You offer him a kind smile, and then gently pull away to pick the oranges, but he suddenly blocks the oranges with his hands. “No, these are no good. I have perfect ones. Juicy and sweet.”

He crouches and pulls out a box from under the table and hands it to you. Albeit before you can even reach for it, Ser Criston takes the box for you.

“Have a nice day, sir,” you direct at the man before you continue down the street lively with people.

“<He ripped you off you know,>” Aemond grumbles in High Valyrian so the people around you wouldn’t understand him.

You scoff softly and hook your arm around his. “In Winterfell, Lady Arra, and Lord Stark treated their people like they were friends and they got respect.” You sigh and shrug gently. “Of course, I know not everyone has good intentions, but Lord Stark taught me how to read people. I try to use his advice when talking to people here, it is why I know this guy was no trickster.”

Aemond hums in comprehension but doesn’t actually agree or take in what you said. You may be down amongst the people, but he’s in the clouds where he’s untouchable. The only thing that matters is your mention of Lord Stark.

“You and Lord Stark are close friends?”

You don’t remove your hand from his arm even if you’re tempted to, you don’t let your eyes flicker even if you have the burning need to look away to hide the truth. You keep the faint smile that decorates your features and keep looking around. “Well considering I lived in Winterfell for five years, yes, we are good friends. Or were.”

“You don’t write?” He probes and keeps his focus on you to try and watch for anything that might give you away. “You often get letters from Winterfell.”

There’s no excuse for a lingering silence, you can’t breathe a certain way because he’s paying close attention, so you turn your head to meet his gaze and share your rehearsed lie. “Sometimes, but I talk to someone else. A lady friend that lives in the castle. One of late Lady Arra’s friends.”

Aemond holds your gaze and tries to pick up on something just a hair out of place, but you keep composed well and he goes unaware once again, letting you let out a small breath and smile with relief.

“I won’t go poor by giving these people something extra. Bless them and the gods bless you. Lady Stark would say that.” You return the subject to what you were previously talking about. “Besides I actually got a craving for oranges. Or the babe did.” You grin and touch your belly again, feeling a small movement now that makes you giddy.

“Feel,” you beckon Aemond and snatch his hand from his side to press it against your small belly. “He’s moving.”

Aemond comes to a stop in the middle of the street and caresses your belly very gently, letting you watch his blue eye soften, and those thin lips show a faint smile.

And since it took him no time to show his affection or his bliss you can’t help but grin in awe before you slide his hand to the other side. “See?” You interject softly. “He wants oranges.”

A wider smile tugs on Aemond’s face before he takes your hand again and continues to walk with you down the street.

“You do not know that it is a boy,” he likes to remind you.

You giggle. “I do. It’s an instinct. When I imagine the babe I see a boy. Always. We will have a boy. I’ll even bet you.”

Aemond scoffs and smirks. “You can place your bets with Aegon. He never turns down the chance to gamble. I believe you.”

“Good,” you grin. “Now I wonder how many kids we will have, six? I want a big family. But if I can’t have so many I will be content with two, but we need to have a baby girl.”

“So you can name her Daenys?” Aemond finishes for you, making you look at him with awe.

“You remember?” You probe.

A small smirk spreads on his lips and he nods. “I do. You’d only bore me with stories about her.”

You roll your eyes. “I wouldn’t bore you. You’d bring me the books!”

“Because it was your favorite,” he counters softly.

You laugh softly and nod. “It still is. Maybe our Daenys will be an amazing dreamer just like the great legend that saved our house.”

“Yes,” he agrees with an obvious glee in his voice. “Maybe.”

You let out a content sigh and rest your head on his shoulder while you take in the stands you pass.

“Spare some food? Money?” A child with his face covered in dirt asks. “Something small?”

“<He just wants to steal from you, they always have money.>” Aemond points out.

Even if he did, you don’t care, you stop and turn to pick out an orange off the box.

The kids' eyes grow curious, and they follow your hand as you move it towards him. You pretend you’re going to give him a single orange, but you then hand it to Aemond and instead grab the box from Ser Criston’s hold.

“Take it,” you tell the kid. “It’s for you.”

You put the box down in front of him and offer him a smile before you move on. This time Aemond doesn’t remark on your actions—you wouldn't care either way, so he just lets it pass and takes your hand in his again so you wouldn’t wander off just as you approach the outer castle gates.

However, before you can cross the courtyard, a woman with a bright red dress walks out of her house and announces something that steals your immediate attention. “Wish to know your future, my Princess?”

“Princess,” Ser Criston immediately interjects. “She’s only trying to take your money. It’s a scam. Leave it.”

You flick your wrist down and take the money pouch from Aemond’s side.

“Your worry is misplaced, Ser,” the pretty lady with beautiful and remarkable colored eyes cuts in. “But I understand. Patience is a fickle thing is it not, Ser Criston Cole? If only you had known it, you would be happy now.” Her eyes dart to you and then go back to him quickly as if trying to point something out.

You don’t read into it, or demand an explanation, you let her continue as she looks between all three of you. “I am a humble servant of the Lord of Light,” she rebuttals, “I only mean to give the Princess insight for her eyes are covered and her soul is basked by darkness.”

You smile at her eagerly and let Aemond go to step towards her. “What is your name?” You ask first.

The woman's bright eyes meet yours and her lips tug upward just slightly. “I am Kinvara, Priestess of the Lord of Light.”

Your name passes Aemond’s lips, but you disregard his warning and the priestess tries to ease Aemond’s worry in your mother tongue. “<I am no one to fear, fear resides in the whispers that are heard in the shadows, and from the lips of pretenders,” she pauses and narrows her eyes on him. “You see clearly with her at your side, venture too far and you're left blind. Don’t let the shadows consume you, My Prince, or darkness is all you’ll know.>”

You glance at him and grin brightly before facing her again. “Now can you tell me what I seek?” You press impatiently.

Kinvara turns and walks inside, speechlessly motioning you to follow, but before you can you face Aemond first. “Wait for me out here,” you tell him.

Aemond shoots you a pointed glare and grabs your arm. “Let’s go. This is all fake. She will take your money.”

You pat his cheek and give him one last piece of reassurance. “She can try but she’ll never steal my riches,” you quip. “I’ll be fine, it’s just for fun.”

You shoot him a small smile and then lean in to kiss his cheek before you follow after the Red Priestess, finding a single fire lit on a golden bowl in the middle of the elegant parlor room.

“How much will it cost?” You ask her as you slowly wander to the stand holding the bowl.

“Nothing but your attention,” she shares in a soothing voice. “And a drop of your blood.”

You stop before the bowl and don’t question offering her your hand even if you should, and Kinvara doesn't make it any harder. She’s quick and doesn’t hesitate picking out a single thin needle before gently cupping your hand and poking the sharp end on the pad of your thumb.

When a scarlet drop of blood crawls out of the small wound she pulls your hand over the flames and turns it to face the flames. After the single drop of blood falls in the flames she lets your hand go and throws the needle in the flames to let the fire eat away at it.

“You have fire-made flesh, a gift from the Lord of Light,” she begins to say bluntly.

You would’ve liked to be eased into it, but you’re no expert so you clasp your hands over your belly and watch her eyes read the dancing flames with curiosity.

“You have salt-littered blood and a dragon-made soul that burns fiercely and passionately; she flies high within the clouds in search of something…” she lets the words slip out as if she was chanting a spell, and then meets your gaze across the flames.

You should be intimidated, but you’re just eager to know more.

“…three hearts,” Kinvara adds. “One made of ice, two of fire. Three soul made dragons…”

Three, huh?

“…and loyalty.”

It’s hard to piece anything together but you still can’t help but feel joy, and an overwhelming curiosity that pushes you to pick at one thing that caught your attention. “Three soul-made dragons? Does it mean I’ll have three kids?”

Kinvara smiles sweetly. “Smart girl, but you’ll have seven. The three I see will grow, they’ll know happiness and long lives.” She hums and blinks whilst her smile fades to a smirk. “But sins will burden them and cast over them like shadows.”

Right away your smile fades and for the first time since you saw her, fear begins to crawl across your mind. “What…does that mean?” You ask quietly.

The red priestess lifts her chin and sighs. “You’ll know.”

How insightful.

“One more thing,” she interjects and moves away from her spot to reach you and grab your hands “Fire kills the girl and awakens the dragon. Follow the flames for they are sweet to you since the moment your right was taken.”

You let out a deep breath and nod stiffly. You don’t understand completely, or at all actually, but you nod in comprehension before you just feed one more piece of curiosity. “Could I read the flames as well?”

Kinvara moves back across the flames and points her chin to the fire, encouraging you to try and read what the flames could tell you.

“You might not see your own future, remember that. If you see anything it will only be glimpses,” she lets you know while you step forward and focus your eyes on the bright flames seeming to lure you in; but not like every other time before, this calling is different now, you don’t have the urge to touch the flames or bathe yourself in their fierce beauty.

What calls you now are whispers; unclear, but trying to make sense in their own way.

“Listen,” Kinvara says as if can read your mind. “And open your eyes.”

She can’t mean your actual eyes because those are already open, she must mean it metaphorically or whatever, and as difficult as it seems you draw out a deep breath and focus on nothing else but the dancing flames; you don’t let Aemond come to mind, nor do you think about what was told to you, you narrow your gaze slightly and watch in silence.

After a few moments, you start to grow irritated, but suddenly before that frustration breaks your focus you freeze and catch your breath when you see snow falling. It’s clear as day as if you’re living through what you see.

Something falls with the snow though, something thicker and different in color. It’s slightly intoxicating and brings a stench of fire and smoke with it.

You have the urge to dive deeper to figure out what you see, but the scene changes to more white plains covered in snow, ashes, and bones, and above it stands a woman with silver hair. She stands above it all while a winter storm descends upon her. You see her start to turn her head but before you can make out her face, fire is all you see.

“<A long winter.> Kinvara breaks the silence and pulls your attention back to her.

“<Yes,>” you respond in High Valyrian as it actually makes sense.

The priestess offers you a smile and walks to the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I’ll see you again.”

You’re left in so much disbelief that you don’t question what she means by “I’ll see you again.”, you bid her a farewell and return to Aemond.

“I was about to barge in there,” Aemond says in a rush.

You blink repeatedly and meet his gaze with your disbelief still clinging to your features. Aemond notices and grabs your shoulders.

“What is it? What did she do?” He hisses.

You draw out a deep breath and with that push away all your disbelief to not worry him over something that’s not clear.

“Nothing, she simply told me we’ll have seven kids,” you share the only thing that was clear.

Aemond scoffs in disbelief but he leaves it at that. Just as you do.

——

*NOW. WINTERFELL*

When you think of home, Aerion, your mother, and your brothers are what you picture in your mind. They are your home, it doesn’t matter the place, as long as they’re with you that’s what you call home.

But oftentimes, when the word home comes up, when you think about home sometimes you picture these tall grey walls, you see these snow-covered hills, the white skies that stretch for miles and bring icy winds and delicate and beautiful snow. You see grey eyes and a timid smile. You remember the warmth from all the fires lit all day and the warmth his body provides. You think of home and someone who isn’t your husband is all you see. You try to fight it, but your longing is stronger than your will.

Now as you stand in these snowy planes and feel this instant comfort fill your heart all you can think about is how dangerous it is.

You were too hasty to make your suggestion and climb your dragon. You’re only steps away and as heart racing as it is, you also can’t help but strain your heart with anxiety as well.

Letters are completely different than seeing face to face again than feeling his hand grab yours and feeling his lips brush your knuckles. Jacaerys is here but will that stop your deep desires? Will that stop him from being mad at you for being distant and not writing to him anymore? Will that stop that tension?

But why is it that a problem?! You’re married! And you love Aemond, he’s your home too; him and Aerion are your family. A family you built after being apart from your own, and even if you have this new strain, you still want to fix it, you still want to fight for Aemond and your family. You have to be strong for them. You can’t give in to what feels comfortable and what your heart might cry for. You have to be strong. You have to be friends and nothing more.

“It’s snowing,” Jacerys muses as he reaches for a snowflake. “I honestly thought there would be more.”

You glance at the open gates and already imagine him waiting in that courtyard in front of his staff, family, and friends. It’s impossible to ignore two dragons descending in front of your home after hearing about an impending war and a call for a declaration from the Greens.

“It’s a lot colder than I thought it would be down here,” Jacaerys adds to his rambling. “How did you ever do it?”

“Well we are in the North,” you mutter unaware of your tone.

“Oh, no need to get snippy, I know where we are,” your brother remarks.

You sigh and turn to him. “Sorry,” you admit. “It's just what if he says no? It’s almost winter, his people need him here. And what would he gain from supporting one or the other, he could just decide to remain neutral.”

Jacaerys leans forward and tries to be assertive. “He’ll gain the Queen's lifelong gratitude, and a chance to prove his loyalty…he’s a Stark, you know that, they take pride in their loyalty. I don’t see why he’ll turn us away. Do you?”

No, but that’s not really why you’re worried, in one form or the other you just needed to be assured.

“I see your point,” you tell him.

Jacaerys gaze lingers on you to be an assuring brother for a moment longer before it’s time to break away from your running thoughts and growing panic and face Cregan with your head held up high, and a fierce determination on your face.

Yet when you walk past those main gates, that fierce determination is met with inklings of worry. Your head is high, but it’s practiced, it’s years of practice, there's a tension on your shoulders, and your breathing is slightly hitched because of your racing heart making your lungs work overtime.

You try to show your confidence in your stride, you are the Queen's daughter after all, but the closer you get to that courtyard the more you hide behind Jacaerys, as if that will help you avoid anything you’re about to face.

If someone were to guess, they’d say it’s your first time here with the way you’re cowering behind your brother and letting him carry all the confidence and pride for you both, but it’s not. As you trail behind your brother, some people you pass by actually recognize you.

You are Winterfell's luminous sun after all, the warmth and light in the darkest winter storm and lightest snow days, capable of melting the most stubborn ice. To their Lord though you are much more and it’s been easy to notice since the moment your purple dragon was seen. You are the reason he smiles, and the sun that gleams in his grey eyes.

But like the sun you hide. You finally make it to the main courtyard but Jacaerys is the first one seen and almost the only one they can see. You don’t want to come out of hiding because you don’t want to see him.

Your heart is pumping so fast, and your hands are trembling. You can almost feel a tightness grab ahold of your chest.

“Jacaerys,” you call out in a quiet panic.

Said man turns and when he does he uses his whole body to move away from you, in that moment leaving a clear and open view of none other than Cregan Stark. There he stands, tall, proud, and mighty. Grey eyes bright and soft even against his hardened gaze. His pink lips form into the faintest smile that you notice right away because you can’t help it, everyone and everything disappears, leaving only him and you in the snow-covered courtyard.

Not even your initial panic exists anymore, it melts away, and your body eases with a simple look into his familiar eyes. Your once-racing heart slows down, but now flutters and skips a beat, and you can’t stop it. Just like he can’t help himself because here you are again, across from him with light snow perfectly raining over you, eyes so deep and captivating that he loses himself within with ease. Your face is basked by a gleam of light that makes you so much more divine, and a heartwarming smile decorates your perfectly sculpted lips.

Now he knows composure, he knows his place, but in this small escape where only you and him exist, it’s costing everything within him not to break away and capture your lips with his. He just wants to grab and kiss you, but your trance is broken by the sound of your name being announced followed by your house.

“…of House Velaryon, wife of Aemond Targaryen.” And then there's that ridiculous reminder that you are not his anymore.

Luckily that cruel reminder is not with you, instead, there’s another, smaller in stature, but still standing tall and mighty with gold dragon emblems on his belt and on his cloaks broach. He proudly wears the colors black and red which shows who he is without the need of an introduction.

“Prince Jacaerys, of house Velaryon,” the guard still announces the man you’re accompanied with.

“My Prince, my Princess,” Cregan speaks in that thick northern accent that makes your heart swoon. “Welcome to Winterfell.” He bows his head, and the crowd behind him mirrors him.

When he raises his head again and stands tall the first thing he does is meet your gaze. You should glance away and share why you’re here, but you part your lips and only a soft breath comes out as you hold his gaze.

“It’s a pleasure to have you back, Princess,” Cregan addresses you formally, hiding away the history you share. “The North has missed you.”

Your cheeks grow warm, and your lips form a flattered smile before you announce it. “You flatter me, My Lord. I have missed the North, and the snow as well.”

He huffs in amusement and spares a glance at the falling snow. “Well you’re lucky then, it just started to snow. It seems you brought a late summer snow with you.”

You share a breathless giggle, and his eyes share his awe.

“My Lord,” Jacaerys cuts in and reminds you he’s here too.

“Oh right,” you cut in and look at your brother, seeing his eyebrows furrow as he looks at you and then glances at Cregan. You ignore him and grab his arm to go on proudly. “Lord Stark, my brother, and my mother's heir, Jacaerys Velaryon.” You share what he was already told, but it feels right to introduce him yourself again. “Jacaerys, this is Lord Cregan Stark.”

“It's a pleasure, my prince, welcome to the North,” Cregan addresses him kindly, making you smile. “Your sister has told me many tales about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Your brother bows his head. “Likewise, my sister speaks fondly of her stay here too.”

Cregan glances at you and the corner of his lips twitch ever so slightly.

“I do wish I was here under better circumstances to have some of that fun my sister always goes on about,” Jacaerys starts to get to the point, leaving no time to wander. But that’s good, you are here on business, you can’t forget that.

“But unfortunately we are here under orders of the Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Jacaerys proclaims, making the crowd murmur as the whispers they’ve heard are finally confirmed.

Cregan nods stiffly and glances back at his great hall just behind him. “I assumed so,” he says and looks back at Jacaerys and you. “Let’s go talk inside. I’m sure this change of weather is not so agreeable for southerners used to warm summers.”

Jacaerys scoffs softly and nods before he follows Cregan’s lead unaware of the fact that he’s leaving you behind as you’re stopped by some people in the crowd.

“Princess,” a thin middle-aged man who works inside the castle greets you and steals your attention.

“Good sir, John,” you greet him with a smile. “How is your daughter?” You ask as you remember how she had been when you left.

The man nods eagerly and smiles in return. “Very well, my princess. Healthy and strong. The gods let her survive her fever,” he shares and points behind you. You follow his line of gaze and see his daughter in a tall tower watching what you can only assume are the dragons in the distance.

“I told you she’s strong,” you tell him with genuine relief.

“Princess,” one of the cooks addresses you, making you turn to her and smile.

“Ms Maribell,” you turn your attention to her. “I’m glad to see you.”

“And you,” she returns sweetly. “I hear you have a son, where is he now? Why didn’t you bring him?”

You nod. “Yes,” you share excitedly and touch your chest. “Aerion. He’s four months old, but sadly I had to leave him behind with my mother, what I’m out here doing is no place for children I’m afraid. But I do want to bring him after these affairs are in order.”

“When you do, stop by here,” she suggests. “I’m sure he’ll love Winterfell as much as you did.”

You grin and nod, but before you can add more to your friendly conversation, your name cuts through the icy breeze. You look over and see your brother with a pressing look.

“My brother beckons me, I’ll see you all later,” you excuse yourself and offer them a small head bow before you stride to your brother and take his arm.

“<We are not here for a friendly visit,” he whispers sharply in High Valyrian. “I know your history here, but please stay focused.>”

You sigh and look ahead, catching Cregan’s vigilant gaze focused on you after he, unbeknownst to you, watched you interact with his people and treated them like they were your long-lost friends. It honestly fills his heart with a warmth that makes his grey eyes gleam with a joy that you easily notice against his nonchalant expression while he waits for you and your brother.

Since he so often wears a hardened expression on his face it’s hard to know what he feels, but after five years you learned how to read him like a soulmate reads its other half without a need for words. Yet you don't know the exact reason why he was so touched.

“Forgive our delay,” Jacaerys instantly brings up like a proper Prince. “My sister is easily distracted.”

Cregan lets you walk in the great hall first and once the doors close behind him he huffs and responds. “Yes, I remember, so do not worry, my Prince.”

You glance at your brother and pass him a teasing look. He meets your gaze and shoots you a warning glare before he brings you both to a stop just under Lord Stark’s throne.

“I hope the northern winds weren’t too harsh,” Cregan addresses while he walks to his chair.

“Well they were colder the closer we got to Winterfell, but they helped our dragons pick up speed to deliver this message from Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Jacaerys makes a quick workaround to why you’re here.

“Just last night I received an envoy from your uncle who calls himself King as well,” Cregan says as he takes the sealed scroll from Jacaerys.

“No, you got an envoy from a Usurper,” you immediately correct him. “The true ruler is the one the late King Viserys appointed as his heir, Queen Rhaenyra. That never changed nor was it his will for it to change after his death.”

Cregan glances at you and stares at you in silence for a moment as he processes your words before he finally opens the scroll and reads what was written.

“Your father bent the knee to Queen Rhaenyra when she was named heir, and swore that House Stark and the North will follow the line of succession,” Jacaerys adds to the point to try and further convince Cregan. “Now Queen Rhaenyra’s throne was stolen and demands you follow your father's path and stand proudly in support of her rule and war if it arises.”

You have seen so little of your brother's political side since you were reunited, so now that you see it you can’t help but be in awe of the man standing tall beside you, proving himself a worthy heir.

“Your words move me,” Cregan finally interjects as he lowers the scroll to look at Jacaerys and you. “And your presence honors me. Winterfell is almost at the edge of the world, but you still came to deliver this in your mother's regard,” he says and makes some of that tension release from Jacaerys shoulders. “I know of my father's oath to your Queen. I also know how deep disloyalty cuts when it’s made by one’s own kin, your sister was here to witness my uncle usurping my rightful place as Lord…which is why I do not intend to break oath today. The North will not break oath today,” Cregan proclaims confidently and with no falter, relieving your brother of his worry, but not yours.

“But,” Cregan proves your worry worthwhile. “Winter is coming my Prince, my Princess. And these seem almost like family affairs. The Queen has my loyalty, but why should we support this war? My priorities are with my people and providing for them before Winter arrives.”

You and Jacaerys share a conflicted look, but neither of you are stuck on what to say, you're just debating who should speak in your defense. You with an advantage, or Jacaerys with a blunt but respectful tongue?

Honestly, you both probably have great points, but in your speechless exchange, Jacaerys trusts you.

“I understand,” you argue and step forward, gaining all of Cregan’s attention. “I have not lived a true winter, but I understand your hesitance, My Lord. I understand your people need you now more than ever, but the Greens have an advantage, that’s something we can admit, and they will not be afraid to use it against you, and your Queen. They already steal from her, will you stand to see them take more? Will you stand and see your people and lands burnt? Will you sit and do nothing as injustice is acted upon your Queen? Or will you and your people fight for what’s right, and for the greater or good of the North?”

Cregan shifts in his seat and keeps his hardened gaze on you for a long and tense silence. You could read what he might be thinking, but you look at your brother and fall back by his side to wait for a response.

“Your words move me,” Cregan interjects with a small huff. “And leave me a lot to think about. I hope you understand my choice will not be taken lightly, I must speak with my own people on these matters, just be assured that the North supports the rightful Queen.”

Cregan stands from his seat and Jacaerys steps forward to cut in. “How long will we have to wait?”

Cregan raises his chin. “Soon, I swear,” he promises. “As for now, you must be tired from your travel. Baths will be drawn in your quarters, and supper will be served shortly in this hall.”

You draw in a deep breath and much to your surprise you’re the one who grows impatient instead of Jacaerys. “Thank you, My Lord Stark,” you deadpan and bow your head.

Said man catches your tone before the change on your face, but says nothing on the matter. Instead, he walks down and points to the door that leads to your apartments.

Yet before you can make any attempt to walk out, the doors open and a servant carrying a dark-haired child walks in, and without as much as insight to clue you in, you know who the child is right away, you can see it in his familiar dark eyes, and that kind resting face.

“Oh gods,” you muse excitedly and lose all your annoyance in the blink of an eye. “Is this baby Rickon?” You direct at Cregan.

“Yes, this is my boy,” he assures you and you don’t wait for the wet nurse to come to you, you meet her halfway.

“Jacaerys,” you exclaim as you grab the child’s hand with a bright grin. “I helped deliver this child!” You squeal and turn back to the baby.

“I believe it,” your brother mutters.

“Hello little Lord,” you greet the baby a bit too excited. “Look at you, you look like your mother…May I?” You direct at the wet nurse, and she doesn’t hesitate to hand you the child who is a mirror of Arra.

“Hello,” you greet him again a lot softer this time since he looks at you puzzled. “I know you don’t remember me, but I remember you. How old are you now? 1?”

You don’t expect an answer, but the baby does. “Hello.”

You beam at him and caress his head while you share a happy look at Cregan. “I can’t believe it. Words truly aren’t enough, Rickon is so big. I’m so proud.”

“He would’ve been out to greet you but you caught him in his naptime,” he says and steps towards you but keeps his distance.

“He looks like his mother,” you tell him and look back at Rickon, catching him taking the pearls around your neck. “Ah, yes, nice huh?”

“Hello,” he says again, making you laugh and turn to start heading to your quarters with the others trailing behind you. “My Aerion likes my jewelry too,” you tell him. “But he likes to suck on it. You just like to look at it, hm?”

“I reckon this little lord is a lot kinder than your Aerion,” Jacaerys teases as he falls by your side.

You roll your eyes at your brother and reassure Rickon. “Don't listen to him. He’s just mad because Aerion can sense his impatience. He’s very sweet, and I’m sure when he’s older you’ll be great friends. I’ll make sure of it.”

The baby is unbothered by what you say, but you couldn’t be more happier than to see Cregan and your friend's child. He reminds you of Arra, and when you think of Arra you think of where you are, and when you think of where you are all you feel is that comfort embracing you harder, consuming you little by little.

Which is dangerous, you know. The longer you stay here the more you let yourself get consumed by what’s familiar and kind that the reality in the distance becomes easy to forget.

But you can’t. You can’t let yourself feel complete comfort or you’ll run the risk of falling into the temptation you long for the most. Thus when you finish your bath you don’t linger in your borrowed quarters, nor do you explore what you left behind out of curiosity to see what’s new, you act as if you’ll be leaving any minute and visit where Arra was put to rest.

Yet that temptation finds you there and puts it all at risk. You don’t know about his looming presence until you turn away from Arra’s tomb.

“Lord Stark,” you gasp.

Cregan bows his head. “Forgive me I did not mean to startle you, I did not want to interrupt your moment that's all.”

You laugh nervously and glance back at Arra’s tomb. “If I did not visit her while I was here she would haunt me.”

Cregan hums and you stop avoiding his gaze to look into his grey eyes.

You had hoped to contain yourself, but in the silence that falls as you just look at one another, you can’t contain your joy, it takes over you and before you know it you’re beaming like a shining sun and striding over to him.

Cregan gives in the moment you break and meets you halfway with a tight and warm embrace.

“I had come to terms with not seeing you again,” Cregan breaks the silence first as he holds onto you.

“Me too. I really did not think I would see you again,” you murmur excitedly and hold on for longer than either of you wanted to. You just can’t seem to let go even if there's a shared silence in which you keep in words that you both are aching to say and just add tension.

“I…I’m happy to see you again,” he says instead and pulls back to face you

“You grew out your hair,” you point out to change the subject. “You said long hair was for barbarians.”

Cregan chuckles, and you smirk. “Well, I thought I could try it out,” he says. “And it keeps my neck warm.”

You study his brown hair that falls just above his shoulders and let yourself have this one thing. “I like it. It suits you well.”

Cregan offers you a thankful nod and takes this time to study you closely again. “You seem happier this time around,” he points out.

You scoff. “What are you saying? Did I look miserable when I got here six years ago?” You tease lightheartedly.

Cregan nods. “Yes. You did. This time you look happy though.”

You sigh and glance at the exit as if you’d see your brother. “Yes, well my brother is here. As annoying as he can be, I am happy he came with me.”

“Mhm.”

You smile softly in response and to avoid staring too long into his eyes you start to walk out. But for a few seconds as you walk aimlessly there’s a silence that lingers until he finds what to say. “Arra’s friend came to see me a few days after you left.”

You glance at him with a curious gaze and probe. “Why?”

He exhales deeply and confides in you what he hasn't had the heart to share in letters. “She came to blame me for her death. She said I was the reason she died.”

You come to an immediate halt, and he follows suit and slowly turns to face your sorrowful face.

“She was hurt, Cregan. It was not your fault. She was just grieving,” you try to comfort him even if he didn’t ask for it because you know how much guilt he already carries for Arra’s death and because you can't stand hearing him blame himself.

“Well, there is some truth to it is there not?” He says breathily and averts his gaze.

You draw in a deep breath and reach out, but before you can touch his arm you clasp your hands and fiddle with your ring. “No. There is not,” you say firmly. “Childbirth is not easy. I hate to admit it but her loss is common. It cannot be helped, so no it is not your fault. Arra’s friend was just grieving the woman she loved.”

Cregan blinks and meets your gaze with gratitude behind his perked lips but hesitation in his grey eyes. You don’t think he’s going to say anything and leave it as him just processing what you said, but as you continue walking side by side he finally interjects hesitantly.

“Your son…how is he?” He asks as if it pains him to actually ask.

You smile proudly. “Good. Spoiled endlessly by all the love my mother is giving him, but he’s good,” you muse. “I wish you could have met him.”

Cregan swallows thickly and finds it in himself to speak. “I wish I could have seen him too, I am sure he looks like you.”

You meet his gaze briefly and nod with glee.

There's so much you can say at this moment, but there’s also so much you can’t say that you end up in this battle of not knowing what you should do. Should you touch into this past that you need to keep closed? Or leave it all unspoken and just filled with tension that threatens to overflow and break you both?

No one would have to know. You could speak about this unspoken past you both cherish…But! Then you think of Aerion, and when you think of your son, you think of his father and once again, you still want to fight for this relationship even if you stand on opposite sides now.

Thus you leave it untouched and just lean towards something else.

However, when you speak Cregan’s name to address something else he also speaks your name, leaving you at a crossroads he luckily lets you cross first. “About why I came—”

“Did you come to sweet talk me, princess?” He cuts in and does assume right, but that’s not what you’re going to say.

“Maybe,” you laugh breathlessly and exhale deeply to get at what you want to say. “But look, I understand you’re needed here, your people are your priority. Winter is dangerous, which is why we won’t ask for a lot. We’re proud and honored to get your loyalty, but anything you can spare will help. We may have more dragons, but they lack experience in war, unlike Vhagar.”

Cregan nods in comprehension and does assure you honestly. “I meant when I said I’ll try. I want to help the Queen, I swear. Let me just see what I can spare, winter is not friendly, winter is cruel, you know that.”

More than most…and more than he knows…

“I know.” You agree softly. “How long will that take?”

He sighs and shrugs. “A couple of days. Not long. Why are you in a hurry?”

You drag your gaze over to pass him a knowing glance because he knows that your presence means much more than anyone knows, and it brings risks.

Still, he smirks faintly at you.

“I will say,” you admit and smile at him. “I am glad to be back in the North. I missed it. It’s so loud in Kings Landing compared to here. And the view from my chambers?!” You exclaim without a care in the world. “Over there it’s busy streets, and here it’s serene hills.”

Cregan chuckles softly. “I told you there’s no place for you so far South anymore. You bring your son here and it is over for you.”

You laugh and nod. “I do love the sun though, and a sea in which I can swim in!” You nudge his arm, and he leans to the side with a smile.

“I will bring the warm sea here, I told you.”

You snort and shake your head. “While I'm here we need to show Jacaerys some of the fun we would have. I want him to see some part of Winterfell before we leave.”

Of course, Cregan doesn’t argue, he gives in but when he meets your gaze from the corner of his eyes he grows sweet and smug. “Not all the fun though?”

You hold his gaze and shake your head. “No. Not all the fun.”

He hums and looks at you with a dangerous longing look that you quickly look away from.

“Ice fishing?” You suggest.

“You have an entire day to waste?” He brings up and clears his throat.

You hum in agreement and stroke your chin, unaware of the fact that you’re being walked into the great hall.

“Owl hunting?” Cregan teases in that stern nonchalance, and you can’t help but burst out laughing as you remember what he means by that.

“You think you’re funny huh?”

“You just laughed.”

You shake your head and grab his arm to laugh more and much harder.

“I can’t believe you fell for it the first time.” He keeps taunting you.

You stand tall and throw out an excuse. “I was young.”

Cregan looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed and you look at him and laugh again, unaware of how lost you were until you hear your brother.

“Sister. Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you.”

You blink repeatedly and catch your breath before you point back at where you came from. “I visited a friend, Arra, remember? I needed to go visit her resting place before we left.”

Your whereabouts don’t really matter anymore, he was worried when he knocked on your door and you didn’t answer, but now what he finds more interesting is who you walk in with. He looks between the both of you full of curiosity and takes note of the way you walked in laughing, as well as the smile you wear, and the faint one that decorates the Lord's lips.

“I hope you are both hungry,” Cregan interjects while you come to a stop in front of the grand table. “We had something prepared for your welcome.”

“That’s nice—”

“We’re starving,” you cut your brother off bluntly and make your way around the table. “Flying for so long isn’t only draining for our dragons, but for us too.”

You approach Jacaerys and he surprises you by pulling a chair out for you. “Oh,” you praise his gesture. “Thank you, Jace.”

When you sit though he doesn’t walk around Cregan's seat like he should have, he makes sure to sit at your other side, leaving you in between both men.

“<What are you doing?>” You demand to know in High Valyrian.

Jacaerys pulls in his chair close to the table and looks at you to whisper back. “<Sitting.>”

You blink and lean your head back with a teasing smile playing on your lips. “<Are you nervous?>”

He squints and rebuttals immediately. “<What? Why should I be?>”

You’re choosing to be too naive and pat his shoulder. “<Your big sister is here do not worry.>”

He swats your hand away, and you steal a glance over at Cregan taking his seat beside you

“How many days do you have to be here before your husband sends you a raven?” Jacaerys fills the silence.

At first, you don’t want to entertain his question, he’s only going to make fun of Aemond, but you give him an assumption to be nice. “Three days. The last thing he wrote was, ‘come home now. Your place is here.’ And that was before we left the Eyrie.”

Jacaerys leans in and continues. “Has he actually written that he misses you?”

You hold his gaze and part your lips to argue in your husband's defense, but those words have not been written on paper so you don't rebuttal Jacaerys, you deflect. “Have you tried to make a move on Baela?”

Jacaerys clenches his jaw and speaks through gritted teeth. “What are you on about?”

You grab the cup in front of you and shrug. “What? She is your betrothed, it's okay to sneak off and you know, have a little fun.”

“Stop it.”

You take a sip of your drink and lean towards him. “When we get home I will play a game and lock you both in a room—oh! No! I’m brilliant!” You exclaim and push yourself back, making him grimace.

“Shut up.”

“Nothing boosts romance more than a fun little adventure, just you and her alone,” you share excitedly without shame that you’re talking to your brother about romance as if he were a lady. The gods didn’t give you sisters, just five brothers, so you have to make the best of what you have. “I will throw you out of the castle to go fetch dragon eggs, or you know, something fun.”

“You’re childish,” he snaps at you under his breath.

You exhale deeply and sit back proudly. “And when your wedding comes I will be paralyzed with joy. Unless she marries one of our Velaryon cousins,” you finish in a whisper to just light a small fire under his ass.

“What?” Jacaerys asks in a shocked whisper, which you ignore to share an amused smile with Cregan.

“Princess,” you hear someone call before you see Lady Maribell approaching with servants carrying supper. “We made your favorite to welcome you and the Prince.”

You watch your plate get put down with a big appetite and then look at Lady Maribell and touch your chest. “Thank you, ma’am, I’ll make sure to savor it well.”

The lady bows her head and leaves the hall, letting you appreciate your supper and the fact that these people took the time to prepare your favorite meal by their own will, or for the wishes of someone else, you don’t know, but it’s a huge difference with the way you get treated in the Red Keep.

“I would like to make a toast,” Cregan’s voice booms throughout the hall as he stands up, pulling the attention of those gathered in the hall. “To the Prince and Princess. Welcome to Winterfell, you honor not only me but the entire North for coming in person in the Queen's regard…”

You smile up at Cregan before you share your joy with Jacaerys.

“Your stay will not be long, but we will do our best to make you feel at home,” Cregan continues before he looks over Jacaerys. “The North may be a drastic change, but it is beautiful. I hope you learn to grow fond of it just as much as your sister has.”

You don’t check Jacaerys reaction, you meet Cregan's gaze and follow him all the way down to his seat with a soft appreciative smile, while his own gaze softens…for a moment, because his gaze then drifts over your shoulder and it loses that gentle touch.

You follow his line of gaze and meet your brother's thankful but slightly narrowed look that he holds with a smile. And as to not make suspect something you raise your cup to him.

He returns the gesture before looking past you again, making you now look at your steaming food and let out a slow deep breath as you try to remind yourself to keep yourself contained. In doing so, albeit you remember the tragic dinner you had at King's Landing not many nights ago and you now start to feel amused by the memory.

You happen to let your gaze wander over to your brother in the midst, and he slowly locks eyes with you. Silence follows for a moment, but then as if mentally tangled with your thoughts you both start to giggle before you chuckle together.

“Man,” he says between laughs. “I wish I would have seen your right hook. I missed it!”

You cover your mouth and stifle the laugh you want to let out and respond. “He was so shocked! I was holding that in for so long!”

You snort and lean towards each other. “It was such a mess from the start, but I applaud your toast. That was smooth.”

“Really? Thank you, I think I landed it too.” He takes your compliment and you both laugh together again before he grabs your shoulder and turns you towards the man at your other side.

“Lord Stark,” he happily drags Cregan into the conversation. “Considering you are friends with my sister, I will tell you a great feat she completed a few nights ago on our last night at Kings Landing.”

You shake your head lightheartedly and lick your lips as you catch your breath.

“To make this story short, one thing led to another and my sister landed a right hook on the usurper,” Jacaerys shares, making the corner of Cregan's lips twitch.

“He slammed our brother's face into the table,” you try to give reason to your actions. “I acted. My rings helped too.”

Jacaerys laughs softly and you meet his gaze and smile wide.

“It seems like an impressive feat indeed,” Cregan says and lets his gaze linger on you. “But I cannot say it surprises me, your sister has never been one to recoil from such things. I’d say she's fond of it.”

“Too much,” Jacaerys remarks. “It is why she would always get in trouble.”

Cregan huffs softly and meets your gaze. “I only wish I could have seen it,” he says directly at you while also letting your brother hear.

You can’t help your deep breath, or stop your face from burning under his impressed gaze. You don't say anything but luckily that conversation leads to a lighthearted dinner where Jacaerys and Cregan start to talk more instead of just passing glances.

Unfortunately, you do the one thing you told yourself you didn’t want to do, and that’s losing yourself in the bliss that comes with interacting with your brother and Cregan, the man you…have a secret past with.

You thought you could do better, you wanted not to get lost at all, but it pulled you down rather quickly and you couldn’t fight it. Especially because there’s something about seeing Cregan interact with your brother without tension or disdain, that makes your heart swoon.

“Jacaerys,” you blurt and turn to him. “Let’s dance.”

His eyebrows pinch together and he shakes his head before he answers. “What? No!”

You ignore him and jump from your seat to grab his arm and pull him with you to the center without as much as a protest. He likes to act all tough and nonchalant in front of others but he’s a big sweetheart when it comes to you and your brothers.

And he proves that further when he doesn’t fail to make you smile when you’re dancing slowly at first to follow the beat of the music that plays in the corner. When the music picks up he becomes faster but disregards the actual beat to start spinning you around the room.

“That’s not how you dance this!” You remark without much meaning behind your words. “You’re going to get me drunk!”

“You can handle it. You love it!” He assumes right and goes faster around the room without that initial worry of being judged or carrying this tough and proper image.

Neither of you actually find a worry in the world, it’s just him and you in that moment, laughing, and unaware of the pair of grey eyes that follow you all around the room. People talk to him, and a commotion surrounds him but Cregan finds a way to keep watching you laugh with your brother as he takes you around the room.

He should feel somewhat upset that your brother is bringing this different kind of joy out of you that he never saw when it was just you and him, but his heart only fills with bliss as he sees you so overjoyed. He knew how much you missed your family when you were living in Winterfell, so how can he be upset and petty that you’re so drunk with bliss by your brother's company?

Only a fool would refuse you this joy.

“Princess!”

You come to a quick halt and give your attention to the one who seeks it; catching Ser Rolf, one of your greatest friends just past the door.

“Ser Rolf!” You greet once you know who has beckoned you, and let your brother go to rush to your friend.

“I heard you were here and I came as fast as I could,” he says and answers your curiosity as to where he’s been before you had the chance to ask. “I almost feared I missed you.”

You shake your head. “No, you got lucky. Come!” You pull him with you to return to your brother. “Ser Rolf, this is my brother, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon.” You immediately introduce them.

“My Prince,” Ser Rolf greets him properly.

“Jace, this is one of my greatest friends from here, Ser Rolf,” you explain. “He went to my engagement tourney and played in my honor.”

Ser Rolf scoffs. “Well, I needed to show off my skills, and not let you Southerners forget how talented we can be.”

You smile at him and you both purposely leave out the other reason why he had gone.

“It's nice to finally meet you,” Ser Rolf directs at your brother. “Your sister often spoke fondly of you and the rest of your family.”

“Did she?” Jacaerys presses and flashes you a smug smirk. “When we return to our brothers I’m proudly going to use that over her head.”

Ser Rolf laughs and nudges you, and you roll your eyes.

“Do you mind if I steal your sister from you, My Prince?” Ser Rolf asks.

Said man shakes his head. “Not at all, go ahead, I need to step out anyway. I will be back.”

You offer him a comprehensive smile and watch him leave the hall before you face your friend. “Are you going to dance with me?”

Ser Rolf scoffs. “No. Unless it’s a command.”

You smile in amusement and shake your head. “Never to you.”

“Good, I may be swift with a sword, but I'm afraid I'm not a gifted dancer. My wife can attest to that,” he breathes out and points his hand away from the crowd of people dancing to walk away together.

“How is your family?” You ask.

Your friend looks at you and smiles sweetly for the first time tonight. “Good. My girl is a year old and a delight. You have a son, I heard.”

You clasp your hands together and nod. “Yes, Aerion. He’s four months old, and his father's pride.” You share now that you can share it with someone since so many details about your son felt wrong being shared with Cregan.

“About…the father,” Ser Rolf picks on that matter as he sits around the first table you see. “I hope my actions in that tournament did not get you in trouble. I saw him later that night at a feast after the tournament was over.”

You sit down first and sigh before you shake your head. “No. Do not worry…was he…” you trail off and glance at the ring Aemond gave you to fiddle with it. “…with anyone?”

You can feel Ser Rolf press his gaze on you, but you avoid it and wait, even if you shouldn’t considering who’s occupying your mind now too.

“No,” Ser Rolf answers hesitantly, making your heart skip a beat. “He was lurking in the corner watching over the other silver-haired Prince.”

You swallow back nervously and meet your friend's gaze to press him since he didn’t sound convincing. “Tell me, Rolf. I can take the truth. I mean look at me, I’m on opposite sides of this war.”

Ser Rolf quickly shakes his head and looks at you with a pitiful look. “I swear it, Princess. He was lurking the entire night. When his brother brought in women and tried to gift him one as an engagement present, he finally left.”

You let out a relieved sigh and nod in comprehension, feeling a lot more assured now than before. “Thank you, my friend.”

“Of course.”

You feel it now…how much you’re starting to miss Aemond. Which is all so conflicting, but you admit it, you miss your husband, especially when it’s just you and him. That’s when he lets his guard down and lets out this person he keeps within; this sweet, affectionate, and amusing person that knows how to love you in the way you want to be loved, and knows the deepest parts of you, while he lets you know his.

He doesn’t hide his love for you in public, he's not overly affectionate but he makes it known that you’re all his and he’s all yours. And perhaps that makes you a little too attached to one another, but you take pride in it and never feel alone.

But…

Yes, there’s a but when you’re in Winterfell, when Cregan is close, and when he comes to mind. You can’t let Cregan go. The love you shared was so consuming, it was full of passion, it was exciting, and it had so much to give that no matter what, you could never get enough of one another.

But that's it isn't it? Was. You need to let go.

“How are you…holding up?” Ser Rolf breaks you from your troubled mind and only makes you confused. “With…you know…” he trails off and points to the side.

You follow his line of gaze and realize that he’s referring to Cregan.

“Rolf,” you warn him, making him laugh.

“He’s finally smiling,” he makes matters worse and makes you smile down at the table while your stupid heart skips a beat.

“He hasn’t been with anyone,” Ser Rolf clarifies and you snap your eyes at him and kick his shin.

“Stop.”

Rolf smirks and rubs his wounded area, while your eyes wander to the man you’re talking about, and you see him leaving the hall.

You almost find it in you to follow him out, but what will that bring? Nothing but temptation. You did good before when it was just him and you, but the stars are out, and the snow blankets the ground, it will feel like one of those nights when you would admire the sky in each other's embrace, and you’ll probably lose it, so you stay put and keep talking to your friend while also watching for your brother.

Eventually, more of Cregan's friends join Ser Rolf and you, but as much as you enjoy their company you can’t rest easy without knowing about your brother. He left a while ago and hasn’t returned. He would’ve told you if he went to bed, but he hasn’t. He said he needed to step out and hasn’t returned.

Maybe he froze out there since all he’s used to is a chill—but more seriously you should go check on him.

You stand up and just as you’re going to excuse yourself you catch your brother walking inside in front of Cregan.

They approach the table and you want to ask about your brother's whereabouts, but Cregan interjects. “I've decided we could take him hunting tomorrow morning and have lunch there, so he can know some of the North’s wilderness.”

You look at your brother and he gives you an assuring nod. And considering Cregan hasn’t given you an answer you have no choice but to accept. “Very well then.”

“I might’ve overshared with your brother just now,” Cregan continues to direct at you as you step back and sit back down.

“No, no,” Jacaerys shakes his head. “He glorified.”

You cross your leg over the other and press them. “What?”

Cregan glances at your brother and then looks back at you. “I might have praised your archery skills on dragonback.”

You smile at Cregan and pass your brother a cocky look. “It’s true. I am an excellent shot on Dragonback, but I cannot take all the credit, Astraea helps me when she flies. I think Lord Stark is just too in awe of the dragon itself.”

Cregan huffs and points his chin at you. “You are being too humble. You deserve the praise, not anyone can hit the target while moving, especially while flying. And you like to stand, which, that alone deserves its own praise.”

You shake your head. “You flatter me too much.”

“But I do suppose the same cannot be said about your traps. She almost caught her own leg once,” he shares a bit too amused. “Arra caught her in time.”

You shake your head. “It was not my fault,” you rebuttal. “You were distracting me. Hunting is done in silence and you distracted me.”

Cregan scoffs. “Are we talking about the same day?” He teases. “You are remembering wrong. I did not do such a thing.”

You touch your chest and slowly get up. “Lord Stark, are you calling me a liar?”

He shakes his head. “Admit it, you could have used help.”

You inhale deeply and nod. “Only if you admit you spoiled our bait for that fishing evening on your name day.”

Cregan parts his lips but he can’t deny you so he presses his lips together and nods slowly, causing you to nod in return, and share a mutual agreement to your questions through shared glances that you don’t break. There in the middle of your friends and brother, you look at each other as if it’s only you and him in that hall, in this world entirely. You exist only for each other.

Until the reminder tears it all down and pulls you back into reality. “Sister why don’t you sing us a song,” Jacaerys exposes you.

“What?” You gasp and ignore all the looks you get.

Jacaerys nods. “It seems fitting. It’s still early, I think it would be nice for you to fill the hall with your song.”

You blink repeatedly and shake your head quickly hoping he’ll get the hint, but he does the opposite as if purposely torturing you. “Wait…you have not sung here?”

You stay quiet and spare a glance at Cregan who is too amused by what’s going on.

“Wow…” Jacaerys trails off to chuckle before he faces the crowd of your friends and Cregan. “That is why she is called the Siren of Driftmark.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and groan.

“I thought you said it was because you were a good swimmer,” Ser Rolf points out.

You shake your head. “No,” you grumble.

Jacaerys moves over to you to grab your shoulder and shake you gently. “She’s really good. She sings all the time,” he praises you. “She just sang the other day when we got to Dragonstone.”

You shake your head and feign a smile. “No, no, my brother is being too nice. He’s exaggerating.” You laugh and then turn to your brother to shoot him a burning glare. “You’re exaggerating,” you sneer at him through gritted teeth.

Jacaerys chuckles and pushes you forward. “Sing us a song. Come on!”

You share a breathless chuckle and turn on your heels to point back at your brother. “I would not want you to cry,” you reveal and glance at the crowd. “When he was a boy he would hide at the back of the crowd so no one would see him cry when I sang.”

Jacaerys doesn’t give you the satisfaction of being flustered, he just smiles, and Cregan steps in.

“Come on, prove your name, princess.”

You pass him a glare and sigh deeply.

“Just one,” Cregan insists with a sweet and intrigued look that really makes it hard to say no to.

“Fine…” you give him brugrudgly. “But…I’ll sing a Sea Shanty. One father liked to sing with us, Jacaerys, so you can sing with me.” You smirk.

Your brother is quick though and shakes his head. “No, no, anyone happy enough can sing a Sea Shanty. Sing a different song.”

“You’ll be surprised not everyone can,” you murmur and stare at your brother with a piercing glare but don’t argue now. You’ll get nowhere, so you begin to step away from the crowd. “Only if you do it,” you protest and turn back to your brother.

“No,” he snaps.

“Do what?” Ser Rolf probes.

You grab your brother's arm and he gives your friend the answer. “Our father would present her to the crowd as if she was a famous singer before she sang.”

You nod eagerly and shake him, but he shakes his head to deny you of such a pleasure.

“I’ll do it,” Ser Rolf volunteers and takes you with him, but leaves you at the side as he runs to the center and steals everyone’s attention.

“Can I get everyone’s attention please! Tonight we have a special guest blessing this hall with her song! May I present the Siren of Driftmark!” He shouts and you don’t shy away or protest now, you run to the center, and bow to the crowd while you spread your arms out like a dragon spreads its wings.

“Hello, Winterfell!” You address the crowd and stand tall without a hint of smugness or your nose in the air to show your royal status, you show off a charm that hasn’t been seen in this hall and gains all the wavering attention to you, as if you were born to lead the masses. “Now, now I know what you may be wondering! Can she really sing, she’s never proved that to us! But,” you laugh softly. “I promise that I at least will not make your ears bleed.”

The crowd laughs and a warm look grows on the serious Lord’s face.

“This song goes to my brother who accompanies me this time around,” you let it be known so you don’t share all the attention. “And of course to your Lord Stark. Thank you for hosting us tonight, my friend.”

You flash him a smile and he nods gently in return, unable to keep his eyes off as you whisper to the band in the corner. He follows your every step with a curiosity that grows only as you clear your throat, take in the crowd that’s gathered in the hall, and draw out a deep breath, because after you part your lips and start to sing softly for all the crowd to hear, all he knows is complete awe as you grow louder and more enchanting with your song.

You become one with yourself and it makes it impossible for anyone to turn away, all the attention is on you as if you were a real-life siren. Yet no matter how many eyes watch you, how surprised and amazed everyone is, and how that prides you, all your attention falls on one man who only watches you with awe, because in this hall it’s just you and him once again.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

Fishing has never been your strength, you enjoy the quality time when you go with someone, but besides that, you aren’t patient enough to wait for a fish to take the bait.

It’s why as you watch the blue fish in murky waters you make sure to stay out of the water as you slowly pick up your bow, and align your arrow, hoping it won’t hear you and swim off somehow.

Albeit the fish with blue scales moves, making you hold your breath and wait…

Good thing it just moves under the sunbeam that casts in the water. Now though, you do feel guilty for trying to kill it, it’s so beautiful, its scales glimmer a deep blue against the sun like the prettiest gems are stuck to it.

Yet a fish is all it is.

Before you can shoot though, the fish swims away quickly. “Damn, damn,” you hiss and move your aim along with its hasty movements to not let it get out of sight. And just before it can escape into the shallow river, you let the arrow go and luckily shoot the fish right through its eye.

“Haha,” you celebrate to yourself and throw your bow aside to pull your fur cloak off and leave it on the giant rock so it doesn't get wet when you step into the water.

“Oh,” you gasp at the icy touch and rush to grab the fish on the tips of your feet whilst letting out quick ‘oh’s at the cold touch of the water.

However, before you can attempt to turn and run out of the water you catch a branch snap behind you and stiffen.

There's only two people it can be, but you’re still so nervous that the Greens are going to find you that your mind panics and quickly makes you reach for your dagger around your belt.

When you hold the handle you slowly peer back and gasp when you just see Cregan. “Gods,” you breathe out and let the dagger go. “You startled me.”

Cregan finally walks out of the tree line and puts his hands up. “Forgive me, I didn’t want to interrupt your moment. Forgive me.”

You laugh nervously and walk out of the water with relief, and your trophy in hand.

“You’ve been on edge lately,” he points out as he watches you trade your trophy for your cloak.

You sigh. “With this impending war, my husband and his family have been insistent on getting me and Aerion back to King's Landing, that I fear they’ll be in every corner I turn,” you share as you hang your cloak around your shoulders.

Cregan drops his head and nods gently. “Well, no Greens will reach you here. You have my word.”

He looks up and you meet his gaze and offer him a gentle and thankful smile before you grab your arrow from the rock and show off your prize. “I promised my little brother Joffrey we would go fishing, but I think this way is more effective, do you not think?”

Cregan gets closer and tilts his head to the side to shrug. “Can’t say it’ll be called fishing if that’s the way you go.”

You scoff and flick your wrist to brush him off. “Sure it is, we will just use a bow and arrow to catch our fish. I don’t want to wait hours to get one on a hook.”

Cregan huffs and you take that as a challenge. “But I know fishing in the extreme is not for everyone.”

A faint smile breaks on his face and he remarks. “Who do you think you are talking to exactly?”

You shrug and pick up your bow to offer it to him. “Prove your skill, Lord Stark.”

Without further argument, Cregan takes the bow and narrows his gaze. “You know how much I hate it when you’re so formal with me,” he remarks.

You shoot him a simple teasing smile and let the bow go to fall by his side instead. “Alright there’s one right across from us,” you whisper as you hand him an arrow. “Quietly.”

Cregan aligns his arrow and tilts his head down toward you. “Who taught you to hunt?” He picks on your comment.

You lift your gaze, catching the gleam in his eyes, and giggle. His gaze lingers, threatening to drive your heart mad so you look down first and he follows your gaze to follow his prey. When he thinks he has the right angle to catch the fish he lets the arrow go, but the wooden weapon whizzes to the fish's side and only works to startle it away.

“Aha!” You blurt and grab his arm. “I told you. Skill!”

“Oh, hush you,” he brushes you off with a grin before he walks over to collect your arrow. “Oh, by the way, singing?! How come you never told me?”

You sit back on the giant rock and shrug. “One, because I was quite timid to sing to you,” you admit and make him smile at the ground. “And two…after my father died…I just lost my heart to sing. It did not feel right.”

Cregan steps out of the water and his smile fades to show his comprehension. “I understand,” he says quietly and puts your arrow bag in the leather holster.

“I would sing for my grandfather Viserys when I returned to the Red Keep, but I didn’t have a heart to sing until I had Aerion,” you muse as you miss your boy. “He made me find my voice again. And now he falls asleep to my song.”

“What a lucky lad,” Cregan says and steps toward. “You have a beautiful voice. I understand why you got your name.”

A warmth creeps on your cheeks and you smile at the rock beneath you. “Thank you,” you whisper. “And don’t take it as something I hid from you, you are just learning something new from me.”

He hums softly and adds. “It’s just a way to keep me on my toes, I respect that.”

You return his hum and blink to look over at him, catching his watchful gaze, and feeling at that moment a need to entrust him with something that’s been troubling you, something that didn’t satisfy you when you spoke about it to your grandmother.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask hesitantly. “If it makes you uncomfortable, tell me, all right?”

Cregan shifts in his stance and nods without hesitation. “It’s all right, go on,” he assures you to keep going.

You avert your gaze and fiddle with the ring that Aemond gifted you. “It’s just,” you breathe out and make sure Jacaerys isn’t approaching before you continue. “You’re the most loyal man I know. Your oaths are everything to you,” you tell him, making him slowly sit down beside you. “So can you tell me where my loyalties should lie? Should I return to my husband? Especially now that we have a child should I follow him blindly? Growing up, the Septa’s would plague me with how to be a good wife, Alicent makes indirect comments all the time, it's my job as a woman to be a loyal wife, but…” you trail off and look up at the sky and exhale shakily.

“I love my mother, I love my family, and I know she’s the one who belongs on the throne,” you continue to confide in him. “It was stolen from her, nothing will ever make me look at that differently. I will follow her rule, but…Aemond is my husband. He stands loyally on the other side, shouldn’t I stand by his side? Follow him blindly?” You ask from the depths of your torn heart and drop your gaze to look at Cregan with an aching look that wounds his heart.

“He might be your husband, and you may have a responsibility to him now that should come over your mother, but you still have your beliefs,” Cregan says with sincerity since he knows that all you need now is a friend, not a jealous ex-lover. “What you want still matters. And you know what you want to do, I hear it now, I see it with my own eyes. Don't betray yourself just because you don’t want to disappoint one or the other,” he reassures you softly and leans closer to you without actually touching your hand that’s pressed on the rock next to his, he doesn’t let his breath unfurl over your skin, or let his lips brush against your cheek. He just gets his face closer so you can feel his comfort.

“Would you do it?” You can’t help but ask. “Would you go against your wife if she was on opposite sides of a war?”

Cregan sighs deeply and doesn’t debate his answer, he nods, and you add something that pains him to hear because he knows what it really means. “Even if you loved her?”

Cregan swallows thickly but he doesn’t let his eyes fall, he nods stiffly. “If it was the right thing to do, yes. Even if it pained me.”

You drift your gaze away and nod, hoping you can beat the stinging in your throat, but tears fall from your eyes.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It will be okay.”

You sniffle and meet his gaze to probe speechlessly.

Cregan understands your gesture and nods, making you offer him a gentle smile and lean towards him. “Thank you, Cregan. It really means a lot.”

“Of course,” he says with a caring look that works to assure the doubt and lift the weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders since you found out what happened.

“Thank you,” you add much to his surprise and yours while letting yourself grab his hand. “For loving me.”

Cregan stares at you for a lingering moment with his eyebrows furrowing and unknotting with every emotion that runs through his mind and makes his heart race. “I would do it again, it was my honor,” he speaks softly.

Your bottom lip trembles but you don't cry, you let your head fall on his shoulder for a brief second to express the deep unspoken love that you’ll never actually be able to let go. It’ll forever be scarred in your soul.

And that’s all you could ask for in this world full of horrors. Even if there's no proper goodbye, and there’s so much left untouched, this moment is all you could ever want, it welcomes a comforting silence that brings a smile to your face as you both watch the serene environment.

“We should find your brother,” Cregan breaks the silence after a long moment of being selfish.

You hesitate for a moment but you slide off the rock and collect your stuff before you lead the way back into the forest.

“Do you…” Cregan starts to say while he helps you by carrying the fish you caught. “Still dream of flying to faraway places?”

You keep your eyes out for your brother and purse your lips together as you sigh. “Would you be disappointed if I said I did? Only sometimes though.”

Cregan chuckles. “No, of course not. I’m glad you still do. Where to?”

You suck in air and twirl around to face him as you walk back. “Maybe,” you breathe out and happily share what he wants to know. “Yi Ti. I was given this beautiful gem necklace from there and I’ve been completely enamored by the place ever since. It’s said princes live in solid gold houses.” You nod eagerly, making him scoff.

“My most favorite gowns are made of silks from Yi Ti,” you muse and turn back around on your heels. “Some I have yet to wear because I have been saving them. Hopefully, I get to wear one soon! Don’t worry though my feet are still on the ground,” you make sure to assure Cregan. “I have not forgotten what I learned here.”

You hear him hum before he mutters. “I’m quite curious about these expensive gowns.”

Your breath catches in surprise and you peer over to shoot him a pointed look. He responds by flashing you a charming smile that makes you roll your eyes and hold back your smile.

Thankfully in that next moment, you spot your brother in the distance and force all your focus on him.

Jacaerys doesn’t seem to spot you right away though, so after a quick and brilliant idea hits you you leave Cregan behind to sneak around Jacaerys. Once you get close and he’s made some distance from the tree you’re hiding behind, you slip out and avoid stepping on all the branches and dry leaves. When you’re close enough you bite back your smile and raise your hands to jump on his back, but much to your misfortune he’s too perceptive and ruins your plan. “I saw your foot behind the tree.”

You blow out air and drop your arms with a pout. Jacaerys turns and spots Cregan walking out of the shadows first before he faces you and shows off the rabbits he caught. “What did you catch?”

You frown deeper and point at the single fish, making him chuckle. “That’s all?! I thought you were some great hunter!”

You roll your eyes and sputter out an excuse. “Well, I did see some rabbits but I didn’t want to kill them, they were adorable.”

And you can’t say Cregan distracted you either, for the most part, you were just walking and taking in the sights you left behind last year.

“Uh-huh.” Jacaerys nods with a smug smile on his face. “Sure,” he quips. “You are such a girl.”

You roll your eyes and wave him off before you get ahead of the group and lead the way to a distant clearing where you’ll have lunch. “A few months back,” you share to fill the silence and avoid your previous topic. “I was at the market street and on our way back I ran into this Red priestess.”

“A witch,” Jacaerys corrects you, causing you to turn around and counter.

“No, a red priestess. Calling them witches is kind of mean.”

Jacaerys scoffs and turns to Cregan for support. “I say witches, what do you call them here, Lord Stark?”

Said man grabs his blade hooked on his belt and meets your brother's gaze with a hidden smugness behind his eyes. “Witches, but sometimes we call them pretenders, depending on the price.”

Jacaerys chuckles and you know they’re obviously just working against you so you choose to ignore the negativity and go on. “Anyway!” You exclaim and twirl back around. “She told me my future. She said…” you leave them with anticipation for a few seconds before you share what you were told. “I would have seven kids.”

“Gods,” Jacaerys murmurs.

“Mhmm.”

“Now,” Jacaerys cuts in and rushes over to fall by your side, leading Cregan to fall on your other side—“Who will give you all these children if your husband dies in this war?”

Without as much as thinking you turn to your brother and nudge his chest to make him think it’s something you planned when really you’re just teasing him. Kind of. “You. We could get married.”

Your brother's face falls and he immediately shakes his head and turns you down bluntly. “No. I would not marry you.”

“Oh right, there’s Baela,” you point out and grab your chin as you think deeply. “Well…I could take her. She’s quite terrifying, but yes,” you nod and look back at your brother. “I can take her in both a dragon fight and hand-to-hand combat…I think.”

Jacaerys' nose scrunches and he shakes his head again. “No, I would not marry you! You are…you.”

You look around confused and pick on that considering your house is known to marry within the family to keep the bloodlines pure. Aegon and Helaena are married.

“So?”

Jacaerys parts his lips but he can’t think of a strong argument that will beat the truth. Yet you do take a good look at Jacaerys and find an excuse. “You are right,” you mutter. “We could not, I do favor taller men, thus maybe...” you trail off to think, leaving Jacaerys offended by your bold comment.

“A Prince from Yi Ti with a house made of gold,” Cregan finishes for you, making you snap your eyes at him and smile slowly in amusement.

“Funny,” you hold back your laugh. “Very funny.”

He rolls his head down and hides his smile.

Gods laughing with him is so much better in person. He can be very funny in a serious way that only makes what he says or does that much funnier.

“She also let me see in the fire,” you continue to share more excitedly now. “And what I saw was a girl—”

“Wait, wait,” Jacaerys cuts you off and wipes away his smile. “Now when this priestess of yours talked to you, was she on the other side of this fire?”

You look away and bite your cheek before you lie by shaking your head as a response.

Albeit Cregan knows you well and points you out. “Liar.”

“Yes, fine!” You exclaim and gently nudge him away. “She was at the other side, but it was not her that I saw, it was a girl with silver hair,” you catch your brother's serious attention now. “She…stood on top of a mountain covered in snow, ashes, and death.”

Cregan’s own amusement falls and your brother doesn’t dare to tease you now, so you go on.

“All brought by…<A long winter,>,” you finish in High Valyrian to mirror the way the Red Priestess told you before you repeat in the common tongue. “A long winter.”

Both men look at you but one doesn’t look at you with disbelief, nor fear, he’s serious and deep in thought, while your brother lets out a dry laugh and shakes his head to try and deny what you shared.

“I believe it,” you defend yourself and what you saw in that fire because it was clear as day as if you were seeing a memory that hasn’t happened.

“I also believe what this old man said about Ice dragons living past the wall,” you tell your brother, and Cregan interjects right away.

“Old man Thomas is known for tall tales. There are things that are true, but what he says is not.”

You shrug. “He’s well-traveled, why wouldn’t it be true?” You rebuttal and lean towards him.

“Because,” Cregan argues and leans towards you. “He likes attention. And he’s drunk all the time.”

“A drunk man is less likely to lie, you know that because you don’t lie when you’re drunk.”

His lips twitch and before he can respond with something in his defense his eyes turn to your brother at your other side. You discreetly follow his line of gaze and catch your brother's attention so you play it off quickly.

“All I’m saying is I believe what I saw, it may not happen in our lifetime, but it’s in our future,”

A short silence follows that only works to make you grow nervous over what your brother might’ve just thought. But he thankfully brushes you off.

“Maybe but you probably got ripped off by a fake witch.”

Once again you choose to ignore this negativity spouted by your brother and instead drift your attention to lunch, and since Cregan was more in charge of guiding Jacaerys, he didn’t catch anything. All you have is the single fish you caught and the rabbits Jacaerys caught, but neither one of you wants to skin them, so you eat a small lunch and share the fish over a quite fun moment where you, unfortunately, don't receive an answer from Cregan, regarding what he’s willing to offer your mother.

You hoped he’d finally say it during supper, but supper came and passed, and nothing. That lack of response followed until the next two days too, leaving your brother quite impatient now.

“What have you told him?” Jacaerys greets you ever so warmly.

“What have I told who?” You pretend to act clueless while you pick a square cake from the tray and study it before you plop it into your mouth.

“Lord Stark,” he snaps.

You knew he was getting to that since you spotted him stomping over to you and Astraea, but you had hoped he wouldn’t get to it yet.

“It's been days and you said you would talk to him! We don’t have days to waste,” he remarks and spats out your name before going on to give you a mean reminder. “We need to leave and we have nothing.”

You don’t intend to sit up or fix your gaze on your brother, you keep yourself against your dragon's large arm and respond calmly. “He promised he would give us an answer—”

“When?” Jacaerys cuts you off and crouches down to take the tray of cake from you. “When?”

You drag your eyes up and nonchalantly answer. “He cannot pull the army out of his ass, Jacaerys. We have to wait, if he promised he would do something he is going to do it.”

Your brother rolls his eyes and turns away to let out a frustrated breath. “There's a difference between saying a promise and actually committing to it. I do not know how close you are or if you have actually talked to him, but you need to figure something out, that is why you are here.” He mutters.

You watch him knowing that he has a right to be annoyed, Lady Arryn gave you her answer quite quickly, and you’ve been in Winterfell for days but still haven’t received a word on what Cregan will give to support his Queen, but you also trust Cregan, you know he’s going to do what he says, you just need to wait.

“I’ll talk to him again,” you assure him. “If he doesn’t give anything then we’ll return home with his simple loyalty.”

Jacaerys rests his hand on his hip and lets out a deep breath. “All right, that sounds good.”

You sigh and nod, letting a silence linger for a moment before you lean forward. “Can I get those back?”

“What?” He breathes out and turns all dramatically with his cloak twirling with him.

“My cake pieces,” you point at the tray in his hand with your eyes.

Jacaerys passes you a judgmental look before he leans over and lets you take the tray he took.

“Aemond found me,” you let him know of the raven that came to you this morning. “He said ‘come home at once’. Shorter than the last one but still persistent.” You giggle.

Jacaerys walks over to sit next to you against a sleeping Astraea. “Will you?” He asks with genuine curiosity.

You take a cake piece and shake your head. “No…our mother belongs on that throne and I am going to stand by that,” you say confidently now that you know where you want to stand. “He can try to take me by force if he wants, but I am going to fight for her.”

Jacaerys looks over at you with a faint smile and nods in comprehension. “I’m glad to hear it.”

You mirror his smile and offer him a piece of cake. As he takes one a memory creeps in and your smile widens before you can tell it to him. “Do you remember a few years ago, when Lucerys disowned me because he thought I ate the last piece of lemon cake?”

Midchew Jacaerys loses himself in thought before he snorts, spitting out pieces of cake, and causing you to scrunch your nose in disgust.

“Ew,” you grumble and he interjects abruptly.

“Yes! I remember he’s like you cannot be my sister anymore because you are selfish and you ate it all!” He mocks your younger brother.

You giggle and nod, but before you can add to that shared memory Astraea suddenly raises her head, bringing Jacaerys and you to a pause to look over; noticing none other than Cregan approaching.

When he’s near he bows his head and greets the both of you on the ground. “Good day, my princess, my prince.”

You smile at him and greet him for both Jacaerys and you. “Good day. It is nice to see your face today, we ate lunch and breakfast alone.”

Cregan bows his head again. “I am terribly sorry, I have been busy all day, I only barely got out.”

You remember his long days, on some terribly long ones, he wouldn't be let out until it was time to go to bed. You would usually meet him in his chambers on those days and just lay down enjoying each other's company. Today all you can do is look at each other as nothing but old friends.

“I hope your day has not been dull,” Cregan worries.

You shake your head. “No, we were just reminiscing about a day of our childhood when,” you snicker and go on. “Our little brother Lucerys disowned me because he thought I ate the last piece of lemon cake.”

Jacaerys nods and continues the story for you. “We both knew there was more so she pretended to leave. Our mother came in a few moments later with more and Lucerys completely freaked,” Jacaerys laughs and stands up as if that would change the way he was telling it. “He started bawling and ran out to look for our sister.”

“When he found me,” you finish the story. “He’s like I am so sorry, I never meant what I said. Come back, do not leave us. You can have as much cake as you want!” You finish with a laugh and Jacaerys joins you.

“That sounds like quite a memory,” Cregan says and reaches out to pat your dragon's snout since she leans towards him with dilated eyes. “Did your mother say anything?”

You and Jacaerys stare at one another in search of the answer, but you can’t recall.

“Not that I remember,” you mention and look back at Cregan. “But it was quite a memory. Lucerys is a sweetheart.”

Cregan hums and Astraea groans softly in response to his touch.

“Oh, maybe you needed something, my Lord?” Jacaerys only asks now.

“Well,” Cregan sighs. “I only wanted to invite the both of you to Castle Black on the morrow so you could see the wall, My Prince. Just before you leave, that is.”

You and your brother share a hopeful look and even if Jacaerys was quite impatient to leave, now he accepts Cregan's invitation. “I have always wanted to see the wall. It would be a pleasure.”

“Good, we will leave at first light then.” Cregan lets you both know and leaves you hoping for a good response that will hopefully make your mother proud.

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A/N- Who’s the 2nd heart of fire? A new character we’re getting soon, or someone else

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me

[rinniessance]

BEST FRIEND'S GIRL ༊*·˚ - suguru geto x f!reader

nothing has ever been tempting enough for suguru geto to stab his best friend in the back - until you.

꒰ warnings: nsfw - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. cheating, kind of manipulation, kind of dubcon, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, so so many pet names and name calling (calls you slut once), choking, dacraphyllia, spit, overstimulation, he doesn't pull out when you ask. satoru is toxic and suguru is a creep and a very bad friend in this one ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.6k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am christening my new blog with this piece of absolute filth .ᐟ.ᐟ ꒱

being satoru gojo’s best friend is easy, it always has been. ever since suguru and satoru met in the elementary school, they've been inseparable, joint at the hip whenever they went. at times, no words needed to be exchanged between the two, a glance was enough for the duo to understand one another without missing a beat. and they always shared everything (and by everything, suguru truly means everything – his camera roll is a sin to be discovered) – that, until you came along.

geto remembers clear as day when gojo introduced you as his new girlfriend – he had to make sure he read the message he received correctly because when does satoru ever start a relationship without mentioning it to him before anyone else? suguru scoffs at his phone screen when he reads a text from gojo that he’s bringing “his new girl” to the party. “i think this one is special” reads his next message, and suguru laughs darkly. how many satoru’s special girls has he met already?

but when he sees you for the first time, oh when he sees you, all pieces of the puzzle come together. all of a sudden, satoru’s decision to keep you all to himself until he absolutely had to reveal you to the world makes perfect sense.

suguru thinks he’s never met as anyone as bewitching as you are, you have captivated him whole. the very moment your big doe eyes turned into tiny crescent moons when you smiled at him and extended your hand for a greeting is forever stitched into his brain, weaved into the crevices of his mind: it’s the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up and the last memory he replays before he goes to sleep. even when geto slips into the realm of morpheus, his dreams are still full of you. damn your strawberry lipgloss, your citrus scented perfume and your tiny pink dresses that leave so little to imagination. the pants suguru has to wear when he knows satoru’s bringing you along are getting wider and wider – to his embarrassment, it’s getting extremely difficult to hide his boner whenever you (unintentionally) bat your eyelashes at him.

(he had to jerk himself off in gojo’s bathroom once when he came over for a movie night – you were wearing your boyfriend’s t-shirt and he couldn’t stop imagining what his clothes would look like on your body. that thought alone was almost enough to making him cum.)

thoughts of you torment his every waking moment – he checks your instagram every hour for any updates and stalks your old posts in the hopes he will dream of your angelic face again; he makes plans with satoru under the pretense he is bored and has nothing better to do just to shamelessly gawk at you the whole time; and he feels like he hits the jackpot every time you laugh at his stupid jokes.

once in a while, the realization that he’s down bad for his best friend’s girlfriend hits him like a tidal wave – he can feel it coming, see the rising signs of the shame foaming up somewhere deep in the darkest corners of the ocean that is his heart. and when it finally washes over him, he feels himself drowning in the whirlpool of emotions he is usually too tired to deal with.

suguru knows exactly what you see in satoru – of course he does. his best friend is handsome, rich, popular; despite what others might say, he is a great conversationalist, and he will never give you a chance to get bored of him. geto is sure his best friend only showed his best parts when you started dating – that is why he is twice delighted when you get to experience the withdrawal symptoms as a result of satoru gojo’s absence. geto knows this game by heart – satoru gets a girl hooked, spoils her with attention and then suddenly becomes withdrawn. “it intensifies the feelings”, he usually says. special girl his ass. geto doesn’t complain though. instead, he works on an opportunity to create a rift between you two because he knows he can treat you so much better.

suguru gives you his number (“just in case you ever need to know where satoru is”), and casually starts texting you from time to time. it’s always simple topics: asking if you’ve heard back from satoru, saying he hasn’t been responding to geto’s texts (when he knows perfectly well he spoke with the white haired man that morning); wondering if the two of you have any plans later this week (he knows you don’t – his best friend has been on a successful streak of being hot and cold with you for the past couple of weeks); making sure everything’s okay between you two. he puts invisible effort into appearing to you as a concerned friend, and it pays off when you finally start texting him first. geto doesn’t know if it’s out of loneliness or sheer desperation – what he knows is that he is one step closer to tasting what satoru has been too dumb to properly treasure all this time.

you call suguru out of the blue on a saturday night. him and satoru decided to throw a party, and he is currently smoking his second cigarette, trying not to stare too much at the back of his best friend’s head while he is flirting with a girl he is sure to forget ten minutes later. why does gojo even bother when he has you waiting for him at home? geto looks at your display name in a slight surprise – the two of you have been getting closer but this is the first time you called.

“hello?”

“hi suguru… uhm…” he hears a quite sniffle on the other end of the phone line. you have been crying. “sorry to bother you but would you happen to know where satoru is? he has not been answering my calls and texts, and i am just getting worried.”

of course he knows where his best friend is – not even 4 feet away from him, having the time of his life. but geto chases the opportunity when he sees one, and he realizes this might be the chance he’s been waiting for.

“no, i don’t, i’m sorry. but if you’d like, i can come over and we can wait for him? if you’re feeling up to having some company.”

the silence ensues, and suguru thinks that maybe he overestimated the level of comfort you feel with him. he is about to apologize when you softly speak up again.

“yeah, i think i’d like that.”

“okay, i’ll be there in 30.”

he gives satoru a quick excuse as to why he has to leave – white-haired man doesn’t even blink an eye and just yells at him to be safe. but safe is the last thing he is planning to be today. suguru has never wished for the ability to teleport more than he did now because driving to your place takes entirely too long. but, as promised, he is finally standing in front of your door 30 minutes later. his hands are shaking from the adrenaline when he knocks – your ethereal features bless him mere seconds later.

“hi,” you whisper almost breathlessly.

“hello again,” geto responds, and you shuffle to the side to let him inside. he’s been to your house before, namely for the horror movie nights where he can pretend he is sitting too close to you entirely for platonic reasons, in the “this movie is so scary i need to hold someone” type of way. yet, it feels completely different when your boyfriend is not here.

“thank you for coming. i hope i didn’t distract you from anything important but…” he can see the beads of tears pool in the corner of your eyes, and fuck, he would be lying if he said his pants didn’t feel too tight for this situation. oh how he would like to make you cry for entirely different reasons, “satoru has not been responding to me and it’s getting a little too much to bear. as his friend, i appreciate your company.”

“anytime,” suguru breathes out – his brain is short circuiting and he is unable to string more than two words together. however, you don’t notice his slipping composure as you walk back to your couch and extend geto an invitation to sit beside you.

the silence only stretches for a few seconds as you press play on some movie. raven-haired man was about to say something to break the silence but stops his word vomit when he hears your soft sniffling. suguru decides this opportunity will not present itself again – he wordlessly opens his arms and gestures you to come for a hug. you seem unsure at first but then giggle quietly and carefully curl yourself into him.

geto has never been this close to you before – he can smell the scent of your shampoo; he can feel the softness of your hair and the smoothness of your skin where he is able to touch you; he can soak in the warmth your body is offering him right now. and all of that because satoru thinks he is too good to lose all of this.

“you know,” geto slowly starts, “maybe if he makes you feel this way, he is not a very good boyfriend.”

suguru knows he is playing with fire – but he would be a fool to not at least try.

“it’s not always too bad,” you respond back. there is an apprehension in your voice, doubt, maybe even little bit of fear. he knows this script by heart: you, pretending like nothing’s wrong by trying to concentrate on all the good memories gojo gifted you with, and him, always sealing the arguments with iron-hot kisses.

“yeah, i know. but don’t you think him making you feel this way is shitty enough? even if it only happened once, isn’t it already one time too many?”

“but he treats me so well,” you try to fight back and move to look him straight in the eyes. oh, that was a mistake asyour glossy doe eyes hold the beauty all the poets sing about. what was that saying? face that launched a thousand ships? yeah, he would willingly go to war for you. next words escape him before he can put a stop to his endless stream of thoughts.

“i can treat you so much better.”

he can see you gasp in surprise, making the most adorable face he’s ever seen. geto doesn’t want to hear what you have to say back – he is moving on instinct, animalistic hunger re-wiring his every nerve – so he kisses you, hard and breathtakingly, like he dreamed of ever since he first laid eyes on you.

you are startled, eyes as wide as two full moons, and you try to push himself off but he is persistent. suguru feels your hands curling into his t-shirt, and you cannot stop the moan slipping past your lips.

“you don’t have to be shy with me. it seems satoru has been neglecting you awfully a lot recently, wouldn’t you let me take care of you?”

“we s-shouldn’t be doing this, suguru. it’s wrong.”

“what’s wrong, sinful even, is to leave a pretty girl like you all alone. let me show you how you should be loved.”

before you can respond, suguru is sliding his hand down your shorts and feels your throbbing heat through the panties. you are not wet enough yet but geto knows he can change it very quickly.

“tell me, princess, when was the last time satoru fucked you? or better one, when was the last time satoru fucked you and made you cum?” suguru cups your sex through your clothes and grinds his palm on your clit. the mewl it earns him from you feels almost like honey on a sore throat – he swears it sounds almost divine.

“yeah, you like that, sweet thing?” he asks you, and you’re too embarrassed to say anything so you just shake your head. as your body starts feeling good, you stop caring how wrong it is: you cannot deny you’ve missed being treated like you’re the only one that matters. “you know, i don’t understand satoru. if you were mine, i would keep you under me the whole day. fuck you into this couch until i am the only one on your mind, and then make you cum again and again on my tongue and my fingers. would you like that, princess?”

geto’s honeycomb words make you lose any last reservations you’ve had about this whole affair. his fingers keep massaging your pearly bud – it’s been left without attention for way too long for your own comfort, and your own fingers do not bring you the same level of satisfaction as you got used to with satoru. so you kiss geto again, and climb on top of him, everything else be damned.

suguru kisses you back with a ferociousness of a starved beast – it’s messy and it’s loud, teeth clanking, wet sounds of your mouths moving in rhythm bouncing between the two of you, moans exchanged and swallowed. he is biting on your lip, hands squeezing your hips harshly – you’re sure you will see bruises there tomorrow – making you grind on him. you can feel the growing tent in his cargo pants, and that makes you feverishly hot.

“i will make you cum three times tonight, princess. first, you’ll do it on my tongue, second, on my fingers, and finally, i’ll let you cream around my cock. how does that sound?”

you want to respond back, say something, but words fail you for the -nth time today, the only sounds escaping you are loud moans, borderline on pathetic. suguru takes that as a confirmation and flips you into a position under him, your lips slightly swollen and eyes glistening with the previous tears. god, he cannot wait to make you cry for an entirely different reason.

he starts by capturing your lips with his again, rough movements of his tongue against yours. how many times has he lost himself in a daydream while you were around, watching you lick your lips clean, pink tongue darting out to wipe away any food? geto deepens the kiss and cannot stop the whine rushing out past his lips, immediately swallowed by you.

suguru does not want to pull away but there is something else he is dying to taste. his lips move lower, grazing the side of your sensitive neck – involuntarily, your hips jerks upward, your aching core starting to look for any relief, when he brushes past that spot in the dip of your neck igniting your nerves. you don’t try to stop yourselves from letting geto know exactly how he makes you feel. he keeps moving lower, removing your shirt and caressing the tender skin of your boobs, and then takes one of your nipples into his mouth, circling his tongue around the perky nub dying for his attention. closing your eyes and throwing your head back, you revel in this feeling of body worship. your wanton moans become louder, and geto’s cock becomes even harder when he sees the look of absolute bliss on your face. his unoccupied hand goes to play with the other nipple, gently twisting it between his digits, pinching it just enough to spike your pleasure with pain.

your shorts are gone next, together with your light-blue panties that suguru removes in one swift motion. you are sprawled out naked on your couch in front of your boyfriend’s best friend – yet you fail to feel any shame. geto spreads your legs wider and is delighted to discover the prettiest view in the house: your glistening pussy all wet and ready for him.

“huh, what is it?” he swipes between your folds, spreading your slick all the way to the clit begging to be touched, “little cute slut only needed couple of kisses to get this wet? did satoru really neglect his little princess this much?”

“p-please… ah… don’t mention his name while we do this,” you say, eyes still closed, geto’s digits continuing playing around your pearl, not giving you the full stimulation yet.

“do what, pretty face? fuck? i am about to eat your cunt but you’re too shy to even say it out loud?” suguru laughs, almost patronizingly, and slaps your clit with his hand, earning a surprised gasp from you. you hide your face in your hands, or at least try to, but geto has other ideas. “uh-uh, no, you cannot hide from me. open your eyes, i want you to keep looking, doll.”

geto leans closer to your throbbing clit and spits – your view is obscene, yet you’re unable to look away. even as he languidly swipes his tongue between your spread folds and flicks it around your nub, you keep your eyes opened. your hands grab his hair, and geto grunts but doesn’t stop you. he keeps drawing slow circles around your clit, and you can feel the coil in your tummy starting to tighten. you would be embarrassed at how fast he is getting you to your orgasm, yet you fail to care.

suguru wants to insert a finger but he promised he would make you cum with his tongue alone. long flicks of his tongue along your inner lips drive you insane, slurping sounding so filthy, you might need to move places now – and when geto sucks on your pearl, suctioning his lips just at the right spot, he is bringing you closer and closer to the peak of the ecstasy you’ve been craving. his hands are hot to the touch as they grab your hips with almost punishing force, pushing you even closer to his face.

just as you thought this was enough to light your whole being on fire, geto starts pumping his tongue in and out of you, sloshing sounds echoing in your ears, making you burn hot. suguru is alternating between giving your pretty clit attention, tracing his tongue along your lips, and sucking on nerve bundle that sends sparks to your pleasure receptors, making you burn all that hotter. flatting out the tongue, suguru is running it over your clit and labia, before pumping the tip of it back into your wanting hole.

your moaning becomes louder and louder, grip on geto’s hair almost painful now but he doesn’t mind. looking back up at you, he meets your gaze – and can’t help but praise you for how good you’ve been to him.

“my cute bunny actually listened to me, huh? keeping your pretty eyes on me while i eat you out like this? i bet you enjoy the view.”

and you do, of course you do. the orgasm is imminent now as geto speeds up his movement, licking up and down. your breathing accelerates and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of your pleasure – until geto pushes you over. it doesn’t take much longer for you to cum, juices dripping out of you and down his tongue. suguru is drinking up every last drop, not daring to spill his very own elixir of life.

“fu-uuck, it feels so good,” you cry out as he keeps tongue fucking you through your orgasm, your thighs trying to close around his head to escape the ongoing assault on your poor cunt, but suguru’s iron grip doesn’t falter. you whine and try to push his head away, body starting to shake with overstimulation, but geto is determined – he sucks on your clit again and you yelp, seeing stars. he finally relents and gets up from his knees, kissing you again. you taste yourself on his lips, and you feel the arousal climbing up again.

“thank you for the best meal of my life. that was one, yeah?”

he doesn’t give you time to respond before he is caging your smaller body, one hand moving to the nape of your neck to bring you even closer while other teases your entrance. you try not to seem too desperate, hugging suguru around his shoulders and bucking your hips into him. geto chuckles darkly, licking your lips and gently massaging the nape of your neck while his digits explore where his tongue already paved the way.

the first flick of his digits on your clit is embarrassingly enough to start lighting up your nerve endings again – a hot feeling, something akin to a molten lava, spreads across your skin, sending the goosebumps running wild. you concentrate on geto’s face, so close to yours, and you are tempted to kiss him again. but he is moving away when you try to chase him, and the prettiest, most adorable pout is dancing on your lips. it makes him want to ruin you.

geto inserts the first finger without any warning, and you’re tearing up from the sudden intrusion – you’re lost in the mix of pain and pleasure that you don’t notice the beads of tears escaping the corners of your eyes. suguru leans close and runs his tongue over salty trails, cleaning you up.

“shhh, it’s only one finger. it’s not your limit, is it? i have so much more to offer.”

geto pushes in the second finger, and you have to grab onto his shoulders. you’re curving your spine into him, trying to guide his fingers to touch that special spongy spot inside your tight, hot hole. suguru’s fingers are slender and long – fingers that should belong to a pianist or a guitarist. and you are no musical instrument, but fuck, you would be lying if geto didn’t know how to play you without missing a beat.

“sug-suguru…” you say thought a whiny hiccup, “i want you to move.”

“yeah? you want me to fuck you with my fingers? on the same couch where you and satoru probably did the same thing?”

mention of your boyfriend’s name sends a wave of shame through you, and geto is quick to notice. before your brain can process the feelings of guilt, he starts pumping his digits in and out of you while drawing tight circles on your sensitive nub. still recovering from your previous orgasm, your body is sent into overdrive, accelerating into ecstasy in no time. if this is wrong, then why does it feel so good?

the squelching sounds your pussy makes around his fingers makes your cheeks heat up, blush kissing your face in a way only suguru should be allowed to do. this time, you close your eyes and tilt your head back, losing yourself to the overwhelming feeling of pleasure spreading throughout your every nerve. geto’s hand comes to tighten around your body, and the sudden cut of airflow is intensifying everything tenfold.

your body starts panicking when blood stops receiving necessary oxygen but the pleasure signals in your brain are setting off like fireworks. geto is pistoning his fingers in and out of your leaking cunt while squeezing his hand around your neck just a little bit tighter. breathless moans are escaping you as your body fights for more oxygen, not able to decide whether the line between pain and pleasure is blurring fast enough. suguru is curling his digits inside you and oh! eureka! he touches that sweet spot making white spots to dance across your vision.

“yeah, that’s it. you’re being such a good girl for me,” geto says above you but his voice is coming through a vacuum – the ringing in your ears becomes louder as your tummy is tightening up again. your mouth hangs open, a ribbon of drool dripping down your chin, and suguru thinks he’s never seen anything sexier. keeping his rhythm, he rubs your clit again, earning a broken moan from you.

geto feels your pussy tightening around his fingers, and he growls imagining his cock stretching your pretty cunt instead. he keeps pushing them in and out, massaging your nub with perfect pressure, squeezing your neck just tight enough, and mere second later, you’re cumming again. a broken moan that turns into a sob is everything you’re able to let out – suguru thinks you look so damn cute, he wants to take a picture. his phone is forgotten somewhere on the couch so instead, he commits to memory every single sound and facial expression.

he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, again, and you try to push at his hand to stop.

“no, common, i know you can do better than this. keep it coming, yeah?” geto says with a smirk, and takes both your wrists into his hand, keeping them close to his chest. you cannot do anything but sob as the waves of pleasure keeps crashing against your shores, leaving you to fend for yourself through the aftershocks of ecstasy. sweat is running between your boobs, down the sides of your face – you’re glistening all over, and suguru swears that’s what a goddess would look like.

“g-geto… please… i can’t take it anymore…”

“geto, huh? i thought we were on the first-name basis now.”

“i’m sorry…” hiccup “it’s just so hard to think…” hiccup.

“aw, i haven’t even made you cum around my cock yet and you’re already fucked out dumb? poor little angel.” you know he is mocking but fuck, why does it feel so good?

geto finally relents when you bit your lips a little too harsh and takes his fingers out of you. he brings them to your lips, and you suck on the digits without any further instructions.

“such a good fucking girl. open your mouth wider for me,” you do as he says, and suguru spits inside. “now, swallow.”

again, you follow his command without any deliberation and then open your mouth to show you’ve done it. geto chuckles and very gently slaps your cheek.

“that was two.”

you whine, thinking if you had to cum one more time, you might actually pass out. you try to pout, and tug at the hem of his t-shirt. “i don’t think i can cum again, suguru.”

“nuh-uh, i told you i’ll make you cum three times, and i will. now come on, be good for me and turn around.”

“i want you to take off your clothes.” your simple request takes him by surprise, but he obliges immediately. his t-shirt is gone first, then cargo pants follow. you trail your eyes down and your mouth forms a perfect little “o” when you see the tent formed in his boxer briefs – geto mentally takes a picture of this moment – and you are left almost speechless.

“it’s not going to fit.”

“i’ll make it fit.”

you don’t dare to look away when suguru starts to pull his underwear down, and your suspicions are correct – he is big, maybe even too big for you. not as long as satoru’s but he is thicker, curvier. angry red tip already leaking with pre-cum, and you want to run your tongue along his slit.

“are you drooling looking at my cock?” geto chuckles, and you turn your gaze away in embarrassment. “aw, ‘m sorry, princess. let me give you something else to drool for.”

geto comes close and grabs you by your hips, moving you around. your forearms land on the back of the couch, and you can feel the heat of suguru’s chest against your back, his heavy cock slapping your thigh.

“you’re so fucking pretty, i can’t get enough of you,” geto sounds out of breath, burying his face in your hair and inhaling your sex-soaked scent. he wraps his hand around your waist while pumping his dick with the other. he spreads his pre-cum along his length, finally guiding himself to your waiting cunt.

the stretch is painful – even with all the prep suguru has done, it’s not enough for your tight little pussy to take him in comfortably. geto doesn’t give you time to adjust and pushes himself all the way in, until his balls slap against you. you squeeze your eyes, and little snowflakes of tears run down your cheeks, and your tongue darts out to taste the salty evidence. geto is moving his hips now, dragging his thick length in and out of you. your pussy is clenching every time he pushes against your needy spot, veins on his cock massaging your walls, helping you climb towards your climax again.

suguru grabs you by the jaw and turns your face towards him, losing no time ravishing your lips with his again. they are swollen – he could see how red they are – yet the kiss is hungry, as if geto’s appetite has not been satiated. he is so concentrated on kissing you, he loses his rhythm, and his dick slips out, making both of you whine in displeasure.

“please, give it back,” you mewl into him, and suguru’s losing himself in you – he is losing himself to you. so he gives it back, of course he does, thrusting his cock to the hilt, mushroom tip kissing your cervix. when geto sets a bruising pace, pistoning his hips with the punishing rhythm, you can do nothing but hold onto his forearm – he is the only thing tethering you to earth now, gravity has no hold on a force that is geto.

his slender digits start massaging your abused clit, and you can feel your toes curling again. he fucks into you fast and steady, and lewd sounds of his hips smashing into yours bounce around the four walls – the cacophony of squelching sounds your greedy cunt makes when it sucks geto’s cock fully and readily mixed with your wanton moans create the sex-induced symphony suguru never wants to forget.

you are completely lost to the storm that is suguru geto. he is everywhere, it’s all so much: his hand around your tit, squeezing the soft mound; his middle finger on your clit, drawing the perfect circles with purpose; his mouth on yours, tongue exploring the secrets between your teeth; and his cock being dragged in and out of your crying hole. suguru geto is all encompassing, and you can’t get enough.

geto pinches your nipple, and you jump in surprise while your pussy grips him even tighter. he keeps twirling your nub between his fingers while his mouth moves behind your ear, sucking the little sensitive spot that makes you shiver. soft pad of his middle finger is still playing with your clit, and every single feeling is becoming increasingly overwhelming. you can feel the sweat trickle down your spine and white spots dance across your vision as his curved cock kisses just the right spot somewhere deep inside you.

you think you are on fire – everything feels feverish and suguru’s body heat surrounds you like steaky sauna air. tingling in your fingertips and all the way down in your toes intensifies, and you further dig your nails into geto’s forearm. he growls in your ear but doesn’t stop; he continues fucking you in the earnest, like it’s his life-long mission to bring you as much pleasure as humanly possible.

geto’s forehead is pressed against the back of your head, and he can feel his composure slipping – he has been edging himself for a while now, trying to make you cum with him but it slowly becomes all too much. he starts blabbering into your ear, hoping his filthy words will finally bring you over the edge.

“common, pretty thing, i want you creaming all over my cock. i want you to cum with me, can you do it for me, kitten?”

his words reverberate in every crevice of your mind, and your last orgasm washes over you like tsunami. your body is shaking against geto, tears and drool running down the sides of your face and mouth; your vision goes black and you struggle to breathe for a moment. your brain is connecting nerves usually left untouched as climax waves rush over you, making you twitch in the man’s hold. you’re crying and moaning his name – he is the divine presence you need right now, the only god that’s worth worshipping. you’re on the verge of completely losing yourself to pleasure as you think you’re going to faint but suguru’s voice grounds you back.

“shhhh, common, we’re not done yet. milk my cock, gorgeous.”

“no, suguru, i’m not on birth control, you have to pull out.”

“that’s okay, i’ll get you plan b tomorrow. or maybe even better, babytrap you so you have no reason to come back to satoru, hm? how about that?”

“nn-no, please…” but before you can finish your sentence, you hear suguru groan and you can feel him cumming inside. you want to be mad but the overwhelming ecstasy he keeps taking you through is overshadowing every rational thought in your head now. you cannot hold yourself anymore, has not been able to do so for the past 10 minutes, so you helplessly hang onto geto’s forearm while he fucks his cum back into you.

when he finally slows down and pulls out, the two of you are a mess – the room smells of sex and something akin to guilt, but you don’t let yourself linger on it for two long. he gives you a final kiss, gently massaging the nape of your back, guiding you to lie down. you’re unable to stay awake as suguru walks back to your kitchen to grab you a glass of water, passing out on the couch before he even comes back. he smirks, looking down at your figure, and runs his fingers through your hair, hoping your head is only filled with the thoughts of him.

“that was three.”

© rinniessance do not steal, plagiarize or translate my works. do not recommend me on tiktok, thank you

[yearning-for-autumn]

Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease do Eris x reader where the reader is chubby and Eris absolutely lives a thicc woman 🫶

(Just read your Eris series and omg you’re my new fav acotar fanfic author)

Little Black Dress

Summary - Eris hasn't been able to take his eyes off you all night, he decides he's had enough of watching...

Warnings - This is basically just smut

Pairings - Eris x Chubby!Reader

Word Count - 1,300

Eris licked his lips. That little black dress hugged every curve of your beautiful body. He was finding it incredibly difficult to focus on whatever Cassian was droning on about, although the general’s eyes were frequently wandering to his own mate.

You stood with Feyre and Vivienne, laughing at something, and sipping from a tall champagne flute. Eris’ mouth went dry at the thought of your tongue somewhere else.

“And then, I was banished from the Summer Court.” Cassian finished, “Can you believe that!”

Eris blamed you entirely for his current situation. You were Feyre’s friend before you were his mate, living in Velaris after the war as an artist. After your mother fell ill, you had moved back to the Autumn Court, where you had met Eris, and the mating bond snapped.

You were smiling to yourself, completely aware of your mates gaze roaming your body and getting frequently stuck on your breasts. Looking up at Eris from under your eyelashes, you sipped your champagne knowingly. He knew he was being obvious with his staring, but who could blame him when you looked that good.

“Yeah, yeah that’s unbelievable.” He said, waving Cassian off. Whilst you wanted him to make an effort to befriend your Night Court friends, he still didn’t like them.

A male from the winter court offered you his hand, and with a wink in Eris’ direction you took it. His hands balled into fists.

The Winter Court male was a good dancer, he led you across the floor in a graceful waltz. He wasn’t as good as Eris. In one move he had unlaced the males hand from yours and replaced it with his own, pushing him to the side with his shoulder so that he was now leading you around the ballroom without missing a beat. You smiled up at him with a playful roll of your eyes.

“Eris, he was being polite.” You said, humour dancing in your voice. Eris huffed.

“You’re mine.” He said simply. “No one else gets to have you, to dance with you,” He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “To ravish you.”

You giggled, music to his ears and he leaned down to kiss your soft neck. Your tits teased him from this angle, pushed up by your dress they looked even more tempting than usual. His breath was hot against your skin.

“I’m taking you home.” He announced, giving you just a moment to gasp as he pulled you towards him and winnowed you away.

As soon as you got home, Eris pushed you down onto the bed and took you in. Cauldron you looked good enough to eat. Your thick thighs were parted slightly, hands resting on the curve of your stomach. At the beginning of your relationship you had doubted, only for a moment, that someone like Eris would want a girl like you. You doubted nothing now. Not with the way his eyes roamed your plush body.

Eris liked big girls, and he fucking loved you.

“Eris, stop staring and do something about it.” You complained, “You know, I was actually enjoying that ball, you better have something good planned.”

“Oh, trust me, what I have planned for you is much better.” He promised.

He tapped your thigh, and you rolled over onto your stomach, presenting your ass. You arched your back slightly and Eris growled low in his throat. His hands kneaded your ass gently as he shifted you just where he wanted you. You had no warning before he pushed your panties to the side and swiped his fingers through your wetness.

He paused to dip his own fingers past his lips, sucking your juices from his fingers, eyes rolling back at the taste of you.

“Fucking soaked for me.”

You let out a breathy moan, unable to drag your eyes from him as he bowed his head and drank you straight from the source. Heat engulfed your core, legs shaking as you tried to keep from clenching around his head and burying him in your pussy. It was becoming increasingly hard as he growled into you, lapping at your wetness and sucking hungrily at your clit. Pressure was building at the base of your spine, white hot heat lapping at your stomach with every pass of his skillful tongue. Whining, you pulled on his hair, trying to pull him back, to pull him up your body and have him fuck you, but the tight pain in his scalp only wrenched a deep groan from his chest and urged him on.

“Eris, Eris,” You panted, “Please, fuck me, please.”

You knew you were babbling, but his relentless tongue was hindering your ability to think straight. He had scrambled your brain. With a devilish smile, he relinquished his feasting and drew himself up to kiss you, gentler than you were expecting. You frowned,

“I want you to ride me, sweetheart.” He said. A low moan escaped you as your pussy clenched hard around nothing, begging to be filled. You squirmed under him, and he ducked his head, sucking a mark into your neck, grazing his sharp teeth against the tender spot just under your ear. The throbbing in your core only intensified.

“Come on sweetheart,” He huffed in your ear, hips grinding against yours as he lost the last few shreds of his self control, “I need to be inside you. Baby. Come on.”

He rolled off of you, propping himself up slightly against the pillows. Pulling his pants off, he patted his naked thighs, and you crawled over him, sitting down gingerly on his legs and rocking your clothed heat against him absent-mindedly. He tore your panties down the sides and chucked them over the side of the bed, ignoring your rolling eyes as you whined at the contact of your wetness with his throbbing cock. You made to unlace your dress, but his hands over yours stopped you.

“No, you look—” He broke off with a moan as you dragged your hips down over his hardness, “Fuck, I want you to fucking ride me in that dress, sweetheart. Show me how you fuck yourself on me.”

You took his cock in your hands and eased yourself onto him, letting out a low, ragged moan as he filled you, every nerve on fire as you clenched around him greedily. Eris watched with hungry eyes as you bounced with abandon in his lap, your tits right in front of his face. He pulled your dress down to latch onto your nipple, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin, sending sparks down your spine to your tightening core, heat pooling low in your stomach. You moaned unabashedly, not caring about any guards that might be passing in the hallway, and Eris bit down harder.

Pushing him back, you pulled your dress down further so that your tits spilled free, bouncing in time with your body as you dropped yourself down hard onto Eris cock. His hands came to knead the swell of your thighs, fingers close to leaving bruises. You panted, the tightness in your core becoming almost unbearable. You needed to come. Needed Eris to come deep inside of you. But the precipice was just out of reach. Whining, you rocked forwards, grinding down and trying to find some pressure on your sensitive clit. Eris growled, reaching down and circling your clit with a teasing finger.

“You look so pretty baby,” He said, voice strained with pleasure, “Come for me, come on my cock.”

“Need you,” You breathed out, “Need you harder, Eris.”

Eris was lavishing attention on your swollen clit with one hand, and the other tightened around your plump waist, taking the opportunity to massage the softness of your skin before pulling you down hard, bucking his hips up furiously as he brought you closer and closer. You moaned impossibly louder, hands raking down his chest, pulling on his hair. He whimpered, and the helpless sound pushed you over the edge. Your hands tightened against his scalp as you came with a scream, clenching rhythmically around him. Eris followed quickly after, burying his face between your tits.

You eased yourself off of him, and curled up into his side, kissing his shoulder. He smiled, a dreamy and fucked out look in his eyes.

“I’m so glad you wore that dress.”

A/N - I hope you enjoyed and I hope I did your request justice!! Also I got a new divider thing from @saradika-graphics !! Doesn't it look amazing!!

[tired-biscuit]

I know you haven't written a lot for Spiderverse at all, but I have to say I love your portrayal of Miguel! And your little drabble about being Kiba's service-sub housewife got me thinking, do you think Miguel would like a service-sub housewife, too? I know you're mostly a Naruto blog but I can't help finding myself loving the few Miguel pieces you've done, your writing is incredible 💜

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: free use, somnophilia, cockwarming. established relationship.

↳ thanks a bunch, your message was so sweet! definitely made me smile really big. here’s some husband miguel rocking both your world and your pussy.

i think he would, though you’d definitely have to be the one to suggest it first.

while i do see miguel as a naturally dominant sort of man who loves staying in control in just about every aspect, he also comes across as very reserved and is thus rarely willing to let himself completely loose; even in bed. so it’d take some time for him to get used to the fact that you’d be literally offering yourself to him and would be giving him a free pass whenever he’d as much as think of desiring it.

he just seem to be very respectful towards the people he admires and loves, you know? he thinks that fucking you hard and quick in random places just because his blood runs hot all of a sudden is beneath what you deserve.

he’s gloomy and dark, and you’re pure light in his eyes because his heart has switched places with his brain ever since he’s fallen in love and has placed that ring on your finger. he doesn’t want to blemish all your purity and goodness, even if that wouldn’t be the case at all.

so even if you’d initiate it first and would get him going with the help of some lovey-dovey looks, the fluttering of your eyelashes, and some strokes to his broad chest and shoulders, he’d second guess the entire thing and would constantly be making sure if it really is all right like you say it is.

you’d literally have to be throwing yourself at him, telling him to just use you already, for him to actually do something. it’d go slow, but eventually he’d ease himself into the idea.

you can be very tempting when you want to be, and at the end of the day, he is nothing but a man.

the first time it happens, he’s working late for the fourth day in a row and is feeling terribly lonely and frustrated because of it. he misses you in more ways than one and you’re always asleep when he comes home, so he warily makes the decision to fuck you in his lab one night when you swing by to bring him dinner — knowing him, he hasn’t eaten since he left the house this morning — and bends you over at the middle on the first flat surface he sees.

the sex is cautious and he’s stiff as a board during the entirety of it; you can literally tell that he’s way too deep in his head about it and is calculating every single movement. he watches you like a hawk from the moment his big, calloused hands slip underneath your light sundress and hike it up to your waist.

he’s practically waiting to hear you say stop — even when he carefully pushes your panties to the side and sinks balls deep into your cunt with a little help of some spit and a couple of strokes to your clit. even as lewd, wet sounds resonate throughout the room, then, and mix with your panting and his grunts. he waits.

but you never say the word.

that’s the whole point of it, after all.

instead, your palms slam flat against the desk he’s got you bending over at. your toes wiggle in your shoes as you find better footing when he really starts to get into it and turns rough as a result. your hips press closer to his own and your back arches ever so slightly, allowing you to take his fat cock even deeper. you ready yourself; ready yourself to please your husband like the good little wife that you are.

after that night, miguel allows himself to take a little more from you each time.

he still comes home late on most days, but he uses the chance to catch up by gently and almost hesitantly nudging your tight hole with his cock while you’re still asleep; until your pussy is literally drooling and you’re waking up in your bed feeling all hot and sweaty because of how tight, borderline suffocating his embrace has become, and how intense the stretch that you feel between your legs is getting.

sometimes he comes to see you after a successful mission and fucks you against the wall of the first secluded spot he can find. he’s still covered in grime and sweat, there’s piping hot adrenaline still coursing his veins, and his hair is as wild as the look in his dark eyes — now where the hell has his mask gone? — but he doesn’t care about any of that.

because goddamn, your legs are wrapped around his waist and you’re doing that cute ‘o’ face that he likes oh, so fucking much as you struggle to breathe properly, and your pussy is just so tight whenever he bullies his way inside of you so unexpectedly like this. he can literally feel it squeezing around him, trying to milk him dry of very last drop of cum he’s able to produce.

other times, usually when he takes it a bit easy work-wise, he just rests at home by making you cockwarm him. he’s watching TV — something exceptionally boring, probably — or is looking something up on the computer, and you’re just sitting on his lap, whining about how his cock has been outright kissing your cervix from the second he saw you passing by dressed in nothing else but his t-shirt.

he even nips at your neck whenever you try to move, deadly fangs sliding across the tender skin. it just makes you even more wet; it’s just so good.

so yeah, i do think that he’d like the idea of free use and would even grow fond of it the more you’d both indulge it. it’d be some sort of stress relief in a way. also, he would never, never belittle you or shame you for it. you’re the perfect wife.

when he loves, he just truly loves, you know? it’s deep and unshakeable. every time he ‘uses’ you, he makes sure to make up for it afterwards. he’s just that kind of guy, even if he may not look like it at first glance.

[meowpupp]

FROTHING AT THE MOUTH

simon riely x chubby!reader

tw// slight blood play (nothing extreme,) possessiveness, HEAPS of praise

simon who is just so utterly obsessed with you. with owning you, fucking you, with being yours. 

he’s infamous, everyone knows who he is. he doesn’t flaunt his strength or outwardly display just how vicious he is, but it’s hard for rumours not to spread if each time a man looks at you he beats them an inch within their life. 

but no matter how bloody and bruised he gets, you’re always there. you sit him down on the edge of the bathtub, careful hands disinfecting his wounds. 

another night at a club leads you here. everyone in the area knows you’re simon’s girl, but some still can’t resist getting handsy. but simon was always there, watching, waiting, ready to put a man back into their place. 

there’s a sick type of joy he gets from ‘protecting’ you, as he puts it. hes a feral mutt, born to bite, and you are the only soft thing he’s ever had. it’s no wonder he snarls when something even remotely threatens you. 

but no matter how mean he is to others, he is always, always, soft for you. just for you. he watches with half-lidded eyes as you bandage his knuckles. kissing over each one, its like you aim to take away the pain. this is familiar. this is comfortable. this is love. 

he pulls his big hand from yours, giving you the other one. his knuckles are split and bruised, an angry red and purple colour. “you’re too sweet f’me lovie.” his voice is slightly slurred, a testament to the alcohol he’s drank. you can smell it when he speaks. a mix of bourbon and cigarettes. its somehow addicting, just like everything else about him. 

you just tut, rolling your eyes as you work on his hand. “someone has to be.” he huffs out a laugh, averting his eyes from you.

soon enough they’re both fixed. you kiss his palms once more for good luck, giggling as he raises an eyebrow. he gives you a smirk, something about it sends a shiver through your body. his split lip and black eye give him an air of something dangerous. you should leave, run, and never speak to him again. but just like eve, you bite. 

his hands move to your hips, gripping and squeezing the fat. he watches the way it bulges between the gaps of his fingers. a low groan rips from his throat, pulling you forward till you sit in his lap. 

his hands are warm as they slide up your waist, thumbs rubbing small circles on your sternum. “such a pretty fuckin girl.” he growls, his eyes half-lidded and heated as they trail your body. the curves of your hips, your soft tummy, the way your thighs splay around his waist. it’s a dangerous mix, one that makes his cock strain in his pants. 

“you’re so good t’me,” he leans forward, kissing up your neck, “my good girl.” his stubble brushes against your skin as he speaks, causing shivers to shoot up your spine. your thighs clench around his waist, and he laughs. it’s low, tempting and arrogant. he’s everything your parents told you to stay away from, and yet you can’t help yourself. 

in another life, simon would be the symbol of saints. sandy blonde hair, pale skin, and dark chocolate eyes. his lips are pale pink, his eyelashes long. everything about him is a stereotypical representation of purity. he looks like an angel, one worthy of a gods favouritism. 

but that isn’t this life. your simon is pierced, his right eyebrow and tongue shining with metal. your simon wears smudged eyeliner and leather jackets. he drives too fast and smokes daily. your simon easily surrenders to sin, his biggest temptation being you. 

and so, he can’t help but give in. 

his lips crash against yours, devouring you. he takes and takes and takes, demanding every ounce of your being. his tongue piercing never fails to make you moan. the metal is cool despite how hot and needy the kiss is. your hands cup his jaw, denying him an inch of space away from you. not that he’d ever take it. 

one of his hands drops to your hip, nails digging in. he guides them, setting a slow rhythm as you grind against him. the zipper of his jeans nudges your clit just right, sending shockwaves through your body. 

neither of you speak, completely lost in each other. the moans and groans from you both fill the room. his hands are greedy, groping any inch of your skin he can. his lips pull from yours, only to trail hot kisses down your throat. he bites and sucks at the delicate skin. a deep groan rips from his throat as he tastes iron, staining his lips red. he bucks up into you, a silent command for you to grind faster. 

you pant into his ear, arms wrapping around his body. your nails scratch at his back, the sensation sending shocks of white-hot pleasure through his body. he groans, eyes squeezing shut. this must be heaven. nothing else could ever feel as good as you. 

simon pulls back, lips and chin smeared with your blood. he smirks up at you, the red liquid staining his teeth. he looks feral, like an animal devouring prey. his eyes scan up and down your body. the way your cheeks flush, how your chest heaves, the way your hips roll. he wants to consume you, to devour every fibre of your being and keep it to himself. no one else should ever get the privilege of touching you like this. simon may not be your first, but he will be your last. he wont have it any other way. 

your eyes are half-lidded, a look simon adores. you look so pretty, lips parted as you whine, neck marked up, back arched. his hands settle on your waist, guiding you to move faster, harder. “cmon lovie, want you t’stain my fuckin jeans.” his hips buck up into you, the button of his jeans pressing against your clit. he grins as you whine, back arching, face contorting in pleasure. 

your hands claw at his jaw, pulling him forward. his lips crash into yours again. you can taste your own blood, only making your clit throb. he groans deep in his chest, cock twitching. 

his hands move, pushing your shirt up. he takes a moment to watch your tits, the way they move as your chest heaves. he gropes the soft fat, pinching and rolling your nipples. simon kisses you once again, swallowing every needy whine like a starved man. 

“cmon baby, give it to me,” his lips brush yours as he speaks, the hand on your chest trailing up to your neck, squeezing, “cum f’me, cum f’me pretty girl.” 

he grins as you tense, moaning loudly and clinging to him as you finish. his arms wrap around you, lips brushing your ear as he talks you through your orgasm, his following soon after. 

“good fuckin girl. so perfect, so fuckin obedient,” he grips your jaw, forcing your fucked out gaze to meet his, “how bout i give you some really dick, hm? a nice thank you for bein so good to me.” he smirks, almost laughing as you nod. 

[sorcerous-caress]

I would like to maybe request the different BG3 party members finding out a Tav with a tough guy act was secretly ticklish? Just fluff all around

Finding out you're ticklish

[ fluff, nb!Reader, several characters ]

[ reader is a tough cold badass person ]

Karlach

Absolutely abuses it.

She has been trying to get you to loosen up for a while. As cool and badass she thought you were, she was sure there was a fun side to you.

Took it very personally to try to get you to laugh, bad puns, slipping on a banana peel, and even asking Gale to borrow one of his nerdy type jokes. Alas, you were as expressive as a stone wall.

Just when she was about to give up, she thought "ah what the hell?" and just went for it, full on tickling your sides. Worst case scenario, she will get put on clean duty again.

Imagine her surprise when you started cackling up. Pure sincere laughter coming from your own lips, very contagious too. She found herself laughing along as she kept denying your attempts to push her away.

Now she has a secret weapon, one she plans to use at whichever chance she gets.

Gale

Very amused.

Ah, how the tables have turned. You know he did have a theory on your aversion to touch and the distance you keep from others, and this was the most pleasant of outcomes.

"Accidentally" brushes against your ticklish spots, claims absolute innocence each time. Batting his eyelashes as he swears ignorance.

He'd have prefered a more subtle method than Karlach's, but really, who is he to say? Maybe he could learn a thing or two from her, that sometimes the easiest way is the best answer to a problem.

Shadowheart

Teases you about it.

She threatens to do it in her "maybe I'm joking, maybe not" way. Does she ever do it? Who knows.

But mostly, she can relate to you. She gets teased about her fear of wolves a lot, so she understands if you want her to drop the topic.

Wyll

Defends you.

He was always the kid in the playground who'd chase bullies away, and while this is a more light-hearted teasing between friends things, he will still defend you from Karlach surprise attacks.

You're safe next to him, don't worry, he will never use your weakness against you no matter how tempting it is to get this tough ice cold person to fall into a pit of laughter.

Those aren't his thoughts, just the devil's on his shoulder.

Laezel

Doesn't get it.

What do you mean ticklish? What even is that.

Gith don't really get tickled. Their skin doesn't allow it much. She is a bit fascinated and curious about it. After all, it must be a great weapon if it reduced a formidable person like you into a jumpy offbalance prey.

Yes, she will keep it in mind if she needs to take you down one day. It is the excuse she allows herself on why she keeps staring at you whenever you laugh.

Minthara

While Wyll will attempt to defend you, Minthara doesn't even have to try.

If everyone in here wants to keep their throat unslited, they better not even think to place their grubby hands near you.

Says she did use it as a form of torture in interrogations before. It wasn't very effective since the target would end up incomprehensible.

Astarion

HA

HA HA HA

you poor thing.

His bullying puts Shadowheart's light hearted teasing to shame, he WILL fully throw digs at you every chance he gets.

Brings it up always, asks if you're at risk of falling prone to laughter because your shirt's fabric was too soft. Jokes about how feathers must be knives to you huh.

He isn't big on touching, so your physical body will remain safe. Your mentality, however, is a different case.

Halsin

He is too, very ticklish. How did he get people to stop bringing it up? Simple, turn into a gaint bear.

It's not so fun watching someone fall on you from laughter when it's a gaint cave bear with rows of sharp teeth.

But really, it's not so bad. And here he will help you practice your bear exaggerated laughter to make your teeth look sharper.

[darby-rowe]

big tw tw for rape threats + victim blaming buttttttttt . coryo threatening to rape the reader who gets all melty and please rape me<3 and coryo who just oh ur such a slut i couldn’t rape you even if i tried because you’re so desperate it wouldn’t even be rape

the fact that i've already written two blurbs based off this concept but it's way too damn good so 😮‍💨

18+ | nsfw | mdni cw RAPE THREATS (R RECEIVING), mean!coryo, fem!reader, dead dove do not eat, victim blaming, slut shaming, physical violence (slapping, r receiving), slight blood kink

"keep telling me that you're gonna rape me — it'll only make me wetter," you cooed dreamily, batting your eyelashes up at the taller boy who had you roughly pressed against your bedroom wall.

an argument over a group project awry — the usual when it came to you and coriolanus. you were trapped and immobile under his big hands, but you didn't care. you wanted to provoke him further, to extract every single sick fantasy out of that blonde, curly head of his.

coriolanus was growing frustrated, grabbing your jaw painfully tight and looking down at you with anger clouding his blue eyes. "you're sick in the head," he spat venomously, which caused you to laugh.

"you're the one threatening to assault me," you told him, grinning dumbly up at his angry, pretty face. "c'mon, baby — i know your kind. so uptight, stressed, and high maintenance. i bet you fist your cock at night to the very thought of pinning down a pretty girl like me and forcing your cock inside her," you pressed your thighs together as your cunt throbbed at the depravity of it all. "making her cry, begging you to stop, you would like that wouldn't you?"

it genuinely took you by surprised when coriolanus's hand landed a hard slap! across your face, leaving behind a harsh sting that made your ears ring momentarily. he grabbed your shoulders, pushing your body against the wall once more.

you watched as coriolanus's face turned red with... anger? embarrassment? you couldn't tell at this point, and you didn't dare take your eyes off of him to quickly glance down at his crotch for further answers. "you're such a disgusting, perverted slut," he hissed in your face. "at this point, it wouldn't even be rape since you're so fucking desperate for it,"

you pout up at him, still reeling from his sudden slap to your face. "aw, baby, don't say that. just because i would like it doesn't mean it would make it any less fun for the both of us," you giggled dumbly. "please, coryo — i bet my pussy would look so pretty covered in blood and cum from you abusing it over and over again,"

coriolanus didn't know what to think of you at that point, but he couldn't deny that you put up a tempting offer. and the way you stared at him, already so dumb and blissed out at the mere thought of him assaulting you... it was impossible to not give in to his disgusting temptations.

[holybibly]

OK ok so I couldn't resist with hard hours and imagining Mingi, cause I'm such a Mingi gal, and how that man is so big and pretty and so totally would manhandle you while giving you dirty praises. Like that big hand of his, covered in rings, palming the back of your head as he guides your mouth on his cock. Or if you were sitting all pretty on his lap and he'd bounce his leg to tease you and watch you squirm and squeal. I'm a bit of a curvier girl but like he's so big and he could toss me around or his whole hand could cover my ass or hips while he's just railing you. I also love the concept of him sliding his ring or necklace on you after he fucks you dumb and gives you kisses before going on stage or back to working in the studio. I simply wanna be the princess' princess (also mingi and him using pet names?? 🥵 anyways adore your work so much!!

Hello, my little bunnies! This is how we will carry on.

If you somehow missed my answer, you can now find all the answers using the tag #ateez unholy hours

Oh, thank you so much dear, I am going to please you all more and more. I will absolutely spoil my favourite bunnies, you are all so sweet and so patient with me. I love you all 💖💖💖

First of all, I think Mingi is definitely the kind of guy who likes girls with shapes, it's more of an opportunity for him to stretch you, squeeze you, bite you and fuck you in the most delicious way.

10 out of 10 times he fucked your boobs. The sight of it was too tempting to pass up the idea. His hands were roughly squeezing your tits, luxurious silver rings crashing into your soft flesh as his thick cock slid so deliciously between your tits. It would all be a terrible mess, but he likes to make a mess.

He would ask you to stick out your tongue so that with every movement of his gorgeous fleshy thighs, the head of his dick comes in contact with your silky appendage. The sensation of this might just bring him to an immediate climax.

He loves to cum in your pussy, but even more, he loves to cum on your face. Something about the way your whole flushed face glistens with his cum drives him crazy and makes his eyes roll into the back of his head.

He would ask you to sit on his face so he could have a taste of your little cunt. And when I say sit on it, I mean that Mingi would want you to smother him with your thighs while his hot, greedy mouth sucked and licked you like he was going to die if he didn't. He is also a messy eater. The kind of person who would definitely have his tongue inside you for a taste of how wet you are from the inside out.

Two words: deep throat. He loves to fuck your mouth just like that—deep and slow—while you moan and groan around his cock, stimulating his cock even more with those vibrating sounds.

"Good girl," Mingi says. He sees you blinking at him through your teary eyelashes as he pulls you further down his huge cock by your hair. You take it obediently, every slippery inch of it. Until his whole cock is in your mouth. Thick and long, bulging deliciously in your throat.

Mingi loves to have long and passionate sex, to stretch out the pleasure, and to drive his dick into you with slow but powerful thrusts. But when he's in one of his moods, he won't hesitate to fuck you to the last inch of your life, as if you were nothing more than a hole he could fill and fuck until he was satisfied. Until your legs start to shake and his name will be your only coherent thought.

He calls you his doll, his sweetheart, and his baby (because you are so small in comparison to him, of course).

I also think Mingi wouldn't mind trying rimming. Especially if he's too tired and wants to relax on the fluffy pillows of your bed while you lick him between his legs.

He is a whiner and a begger; he is completely shameless in his desires. 

[starrystevie]

for the incredible lex (@thefreakandthehair) in celebration of her big day! wishing you both all the happiness that this next chapter of your lives can bring you <3

as music and laughter poured out through the open back doors, steve and eddie were standing in the shadows, hands entwined and rings knocking together. there was a breeze whipping through the night air that always came with september, pushing up goosebumps on their skin under their department store suit jackets as it coursed over them.

"getting kind of chilly," eddie muttered, knocking his shoulder into steve's like it would give them the motivation to walk into their reception. he could hear robin in there singing something, no doubt a love song to nancy, and tried to tune it out so he could focus on the palm that was warming his. on the calm before the storm that was the rest of their goddamn lives.

"i kind of like it out here," steve replied with an easy smile, squeezing his hand once and then twice. "it's quiet. we get to just be us for one more second."

eddie shuffled impossibly closer, grin of his own pulling his cheeks up. "we can't hide here forever, sweetheart. gotta go dance so i can show off my new husband."

steve shifted the perfect amount so that he could press his lips to eddie's and wrap his free arm around his waist, pulling their chests together. eddie hummed deep in his throat and brought a hand up to thread into the back of steve's hair.

"you just want to go in to try and convince jonathan to play different music," he murmured against eddie's lips before kissing him once more. eddie pulled back and gave steve a look of mock indignation.

"me? never. you'd think getting married would stop the slanderous lies and accusations but even the holy sanctity of our union isn't enough to-"

steve tipped his head back in a laugh. eddie watched him like he was made of stardust.

"it's not even official in the eyes of the church, you drama queen."

with a tug that wiped the smirk off steve's face, eddie brought their foreheads together, releasing the hand that was tangled with steve's so he could curl it around his waist to bring them flush together. their eyes shut on instinct to be in the moment, to feel the night and feel each other. and just like it had been for the last five years of them being a them, the air that was dancing in their lungs was shared.

"yet," eddie whispered. he felt steve take in a shaking breath, the exhale making the curls around his cheeks flutter. "not official... yet."

steve tilted his head up, knocking their noses together gently, before opening his eyes. his eyelashes lightly brushed against eddie's skin and his fingers were trailing under his suit jacket to press against eddie's back, warmth seeping through his shirt and onto steve's palm.

brown eyes met brown eyes and it sparked through them like an oath in and of itself. they were matched in height, matched in eye color, matched in all the superficial ways that didn't matter. but they were mirrors of each other in the way that soulmates end up with different types of scars patched up by each other, with laughs that mesh together in harmony, with hearts that learned how to beat in time.

"i know, baby. when we..." steve started quietly, his lips still close enough to eddie's that he was tempted to pepper even more kisses onto them. "when it's official, it's not going to change this moment. you are my husband, mine. no slip of paper is changing that, you hear me?"

'husband' rang through the night clear as a bell, the trees blowing in the breeze like a celebratory dance for the two of them. the song inside changed to something softer and as it bled into their backyard, the two started up a dance of their own. it was easy to sway back and forth while looking in each other's eyes, not even picking up their feet like they were afraid of being swept off them if they did.

"i always hear you, stevie," eddie whispered.

eventually they'd go inside. eventually they'd eat the food that joyce made for them all and eventually cut into the cake that steve bought and eventually dance in the living room with the family that they made for themselves. eventually they'd cart the ones who could drive into their cars and eventually sit on the couch with wayne for a blessing of his own and eventually fall into bed like they've done a thousand times but this time with extra gold on their hands.

but right there, in the backyard with the trees dancing alongside them, they got to breathe, celebrating a day meant just for them and their matching heartbeats. they got to be steve and eddie just as they were made to be: for each other.