#shake yo dreads

[meespressso]

how’s my nonchalant dread head doing??

yuhhhhh

[1000-year-old-virgin]

Sexyy Red - Shake Yo Dreads

[youloveeri]

We love a Dreadhead😍🤤

[mendingmusic]

DJ Lycox - SHAKE YO DREADS RMX

[freshthoughts2020]

It’s Sexyy!!

By

Jaevonn Harris

[almostthebaddie]

A WISE WOMAN ONCE SAID.

SHAKE YO DREADS SHAKE YO DREADS SHAKE YO DREAD

[getmybuzzup]

Sexyy Red Lets Her Rage Out on "Shake Yo Dreads" - Sexyy Red Keeps Her Foot on the Gas, Shares New Single, "Shake Yo Dreads" STREAM HERE Sexyy Red continues her run as one of 2023's breakout stars, sharing her new rage-ready single, "Shake Yo Dreads." The single continues a busy month for the young artist, as she earned her first-ever #1 Billboard Hit following headline-making appearances on the New York Jets' sideline during ESPN's Monday Night Football, the MTV VMAs, and most recently, at Penn State's whiteout game this weekend. https://wp.me/p1PuJR-5AQe Please Reblog!

[citrlet]

i'm sorry i'm being annoying about my trip but look at the view from my room in d.c.

[jyoongim]

THE WAY U WRITE THE OLD RED DEMON MAN IS JUST SO NEKEKDKEOWB

Might I just add onto the seemingly continuous alastor requests. I'd love to see Alastor x Reader where reader is in heat and Al finds it pathetic but takes pity on them and helps anyway bc like poor thing can't even get their own instincts in control they're obviously hopeless

warnings: 18+!!!NSFW

You thought when you died you would be rid of hormones.

Periods were a pain while living, but this is was worst.

When you were alive, your periods plagued you with mood swings, random cravings, and pain.

Now that you were dead, you didn’t experience the dreadful red flood and raging mood swings; no. Now all you felt was unbelievably horny and needy.

And you hated it.

You usually carried yourself with confidence and elegance.

You usually liked to help around the hotel and were generally friendly with everyone.

You grimaced as you woke up to feel just how drenched your panties were. I really need to stock up on new underwear you thought as you tossed the ruined panties into the hamper.

You usually spent your heats alone and could hide in a hole until you felt normal again. You usually could control yourself well enough til you had enough free time to ease the tension between your legs.

Or until you found a poor sinner.

Weeeeellll that was hard when you lived in a hotel with a ton of shit to do. You really didn’t want to hear Angel’s jabs as you dragged some unfortunate soul to endear your sex rage.

You sighed, hopefully you could get through the next few days without embarrassing yourself completely.

So far so good you thought as you went about your day doing whatever activity Charlie had you do with the group.

Every touch and scent didn’t send your cunt into a tingling frenzy; yes you had to change your panties a few times but nothing crazy.

That was until you were around Alastor.

Your body practically buzzed whenever the tall red demon was in your vicinity.

You first chalked it up to that it was because you did found him attractive and simply thought it would go away.

But your cunt begged a differ.

You squirmed a bit on the couch as Alastor took a seat beside you, clenching your thighs to ease the uncomfortable throbbing.

It didn’t help that he smelled amazing.

Alastor smelled like evergreens how y’all ever smelled Christmas pine??? That shit is delicious!!!!

And you didn’t realized you had took a deep inhale of him until he turned to you

”Is everything alright my dear?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

fuck how were you going to tell him you wanted to bury your nose into his neck and just SNIFF? 

“O-oh I’m f-fine…i-its just you smelled nice?” You wanted to facepalm.

He blinked at you before letting out a laugh “OOooh why thank you my dear” that shit eating grin widened, voice dropping a slight octave“I must smell very enticing if you’re sniffing at me” his eyes narrowed slightly.

A shiver ran through your body and you swear you were leaking through onto the couch. You wanted to die of embarrassment.

“I-I just never noticed before that’s all” You said shrugging, trying to ignore the fact that his very voice was affecting you.

Charlie had ended whatever the hell you were doing and you quickly made your way to your room, causing some confusion.

You were usually a social butterfly with the gang. You never not chat away with Angel as he told the wild shit he did on set.

“Has got to be that time of the month” Angel commented as you almost sprinted out the room. Charlie and Vaggie gave confused looks ”what?” He sighed “You know…” nope not a clue.

”She was a human remember? Every so often her pussy basically shreds itself to bits”

Charlie gasped “So she’s hurt? Shouldn’t we do something?” Angel laughed,shaking his head “Nah we can’t help. But she'll be fine. Just give her a few days and she'll be normal again”

Alastor was in the background listening, the smile on his face sharpened, you weren’t hurt or bleeding, but there was definitely something that could be done.

You snarled as your vibrator died and tossed it. You groaned as your clit continued to throb. You had thought four orgasms would have did the trick but nope you still had the irritating itch.

You didn’t own a dildo because it was pointless.

it wasn’t the real thing.

You wanted to cry. This was your first heat while you’ve been at the hotel and you didn’t just want to drag a stranger here.

You had more control than that.

At least that’s what you thought.

You had locked yourself in your room as you tore your room to bits. The walls were shredded, pillows and sheets drenched in slick and your poor toy was in pieces.

Panting, you curled in a corner and tugged at your hair, squeezing your eyes tight as tears began to pool in your eyes.

You hated this.

 You hated how it felt like you didn’t even feel like yourself. 

Hated that you couldn’t even control your own damn bodily function.

Hated how your body desperately wanted to be filled.

You would give anything to make this horrid feat of yours go away.

“I would have never thought to see you in such a state my dear”

You froze at the voice and jerked your head to the source.

Alastor.

He was standing at the entrance of your bedroom, a smirk on his face as he took in the state of your room.

”I must say, it. Is rather entertaining to see your lack of control” he said as he approached your curled form.

He crouched down, feigning a concerned look before a clawed hand seized your hair and wrenched your face til your noses were bumping against each other.

”did you think I couldn’t smell you?” He growled “You smell just like a bitch in heat”

You whimpered as his lips ghosted over yours “I-I’m sorry”

His scent was surrounding you. It was a drug. Assaulting your every nerve with each breath you took.

He smelled so good 

please

”Please” you whispered as your cunt buzzed, tingling from his clos proximity and in hopes he would have mercy on you.

Alastor sucked his teeth at you. What a pitiful thing you were…

With a deep breathe, he stood and walked over to your ruined bed and sat. You watched as he sat his mic down and removed his coat. Yanking at his tie, he unbuttoned his shirt and looked over at you with narrowed eyes “Well? Do you want to continue to ruin your furnishings or do you wish to satisfy that brazen desire of yours?”

He widened his legs and your eyes honed in on how he unbuckled his pants.

Your throat tightened and you found yourself crawling over to him, no regard that you were naked.

Kneeling between his legs, your hands soothed up his thighs as your rubbed your head against his crotch.

Alastor lifted your chin for your eyes to meet his. Your eyes were blown out and you winced as his grip tightened.

”I pity you my dear, reduced to wanton whore, but don’t fret…Ill help you through your heat” a thumb ran over your pouty lip.

Your cunt clenched around nothing at his words.

You damn near drooled as he adjusted himself to pull his cock free from its restraints.

It was big, in both length and girth. It slapped against your face, causing you to hum at the weight of it.

You nuzzled it, nose gliding along his length before softly pressing kissed along it. When you came to his mushroom tip, you didn’t hesitate to suck at it. Alastor sighed as you gave the head of his cock kitten licks.

Head clouded with desire, you slowly bobbed your head along his length, taking him whole as you gagged once you reached the hilt.

You eased him out your throat and with a sickening pop, you admired as his spit-covered cock shined. You opted to jerk him off slowly as you buried your nose in his ball, inhaling his scent.

Alastor’s hand found your hair and guided you away from his cock, bringing you to climb up his body, until your smoldering heat was rubbing against his cock as he pressed kisses to your shoulder and neck. A gasp tore from your throat as he nipped at your jaw.

”On fours my dear”

Clumsily, you scrambled to follow his instruction. You must not have been to his liking because he pressed your head til your cheek was flat to the bed, back in a deep low arch, thighs pressed to your stomach and spreaded wide with your ass and cunt exposed to the air. 

You would have blushed in embarrassment if you weren’t so turned on.

A hand glided down your back, causing you to shiver and then jolt as a harsh slap was planted on your ass, before it soothed over the burning cheek.

Alastor kneaded your ass before sliding his fingers down to your cunt.

Your slit was swollen and your clit, puffy with need. 

You were dripping.

He dipped a finger inside you, testing how wet you were.

Soppy. 

He added a second, your cunt greedily welcomed his fingers with ease, giving into resistance.

He chuckled “What a greedy cunt, sucking in my fingers like a cock”

You whined when he took his fingers out, already missing the feel of something inside you.

Alastor took his cock and rubbed it against your cunt, coating himself in your slick.

”I am going to fuck you to your little sinful heart desires and you are going to be grateful of everything I give you. You are going to take every bit of my cum until it spills from this cunt and then again and again until I have bred you so thoroughly. Do you understand slut?”

You were breathing heavily, trembling in excitement.

With a single, sharp thrust he filled your cunt, earning a soft cry from you.

”Do you understand?”he hissed through clenched teeth.

”Y-Yes A-Alastor”. you whimpered, eyes clenched shut in pleasure.

”Good girl”

He drew back and thrusted into you again

And again

And again

He had set a slow, but rough pace. Thrusting his cock deep into the soft warmth of your cunt with each drag.

Soft moans filled the air as he buried his cock inside you.

It felt so good. 

He reached depths your finger couldn’t quite reach.

And it was amazing.

”A-Ala-stor Aah! Aaah! Hah!” You pushed your hips against his, mewling loudly as he grinned his cock into you.

”Youre pathetic ” He laughed, eyes watching his cock disappeared inside you, giving you a hard thrust at his words.

”Nothing but pathetic slut who can’t control their own body”

His grip on your hips pulled you flushed against him, making you take him til his balls was nestled against your slit.

”You probably would have spreaded your legs for any poor sinner, just wanting to be fucked dumb” Your body rippled as his thrusts got harder.

Your cunt only got wetter.

He noticed as he seemed to sink even deeper into you, as if your cunt loosened to welcome him

”oh? I bet you would have liked that wouldn’t you? So out of sorts with need that you would have just anyone bred this cunt”

He growled at the squelching noises from your cunt, you shook your head in denial.

No. No you wouldn’t haven’t done something like that.

”N-no I-I wouldn’t-” You cried out as his finger ghosted over your swollen clit.

”You would have been happy to bend over and offer your cunt to anyone, as long as you had a cock fill you” Alastor continued before a cruel, deep laugh erupted from him

”But instead you sought me out. I had no intention in satisfying you, but what a gentleman would i had been if I ignored a lady in need?” You felt him lean over, hips never missing a beat as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder.

”Oooh how fortunate you are my dear”

You were suddenly flipped onto your back. Hair sprawled around you like a halo, your chest heaving as he pushed your knees to your chin. 

Your lidded eyes watching as he slide his cock between your pussy lips, bumping your clit. He grabbed your wrists, using them as leverage as he thrusted back into you, the new angle making your throw your head back with a broken cry

”FuuuuuUccckk Ah Ah AH!” His hips dug into the underside of your ass as he pounded your cunt.

Alastor hadn’t lost composure the entire time he fucked you.

He watched as you fell apart, your hips wiggling to accommodate to his harsh administrations.

Your cunt took him so good. A white, creamy ring formed at his base as he scraped against that sponges nerve inside you.

You welcomed him gratefully. Letting him wrench pleasurable sounds from your pretty lips.

Pushing your raised legs apart, he lowered his weight on you as he slammed his lips on yours, swallowing your moans. Your tongues danced as he rocked into your body.

The sounds of him ruining your cunt pushed him to fulfill your primal desire.

You felt that familiar blaze of heat take over your body as Alastor fucked short rapid thrusts into you.

Every brush of his abdomen against your clit had your cunt going haywire.

You were going to cum.

Alastor was going to make you cum.

You moaned at the thought

You were gonna cum on his cock

And he was gonna breed you

Breed your soppy cunt

and you were going to let him

”please….” You whined into his mouth

Fuck the very thought had your body buzzing.

”please what?” he purred

Your head was reeling, foggy with the need to be filled.

A hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing

“What are you begging me for slut? Hmm?” His strokes were hitting harder and deeper.

”You want me to breed your cunt? You want to me to fill you up so good that all you’ll ever think is how my cum belongs inside you? What do the little slut want?”

Yes you wanted all of it.

You wanted him to fuck you so good, you wouldn’t even think of wanting another cock from his.

You wanted him to fill your cunt to the brim and then fuck it back inside.

You wanted him to breed you like the little slut you were.

To breed you til he had his fill.

Your instincts had practically took over, fuck sanity.

”Mhmm! I want it. I want you to Ah! I want you to fill me with your cum! Please please breed me Alastor” You whined, feeling your belly clench as your orgasm hung over you, promising sweet relief.

The hand around your throat, tightened causing you to gasp as he spoke into your ear, voice deep and purring

”Youre gonna make yourself cum on my cock slut”

your hand flew to your clit to flick fast circles on the bud.

Alastor’s thrusts quickened, growls pouring from his lips

”Who’s a filthy little slut?”

”M-Me”

”Whos a pathetic slut that’s gonna take my cum?”

”Me!”

”Fucking slut gonna let be breed her dumb”

A sob tore from you as your orgasm washed over you, he fucked you as you milked him, hips angled to thrusts so deep you’re sure your cunt had molded into the shape of his cock

”hah hah aaah fuuucckk fuck fuck Al-Alastor!”

You saw white as your mouth opened in a silent scream only for him to swallow the whine in your throat.

”That’s it you pathetic slut take it. Take my cum. That’s a good girl. Let me breed this sweet cunt cher” your hips raised as he sunk into you and with a deep groan, he cummed into your spasming cunt, making sure to thrust deep enough he hit your cervix as he painted your walls white.

Whether conscious or by instinct, you gave him a ditzy smile, eyes glazed over as you slowly rubbed your clit, whimpering. Holding eye contact with him, a soft pout graced your lips

“Again”

You truly were a pathetic, needy little thing.

But don’t worry pretty Doe, Alastor’s going to make sure you

satisfied and stuffed to your heart’s content

 It was going to be very interesting for the next 36 hours…

@markster666 @alastorsfawn @senseichaos @alastoralltruist @dasimp777 @imgonnadielaughing-blog @thewinchestah @strawberrypimp666 @tpks @stygianoir @polytheatrix @prosciuttosblog @angelltheninth @peachedtv @yourdoorisunlocked @kiralaufeyson84

[norrisleclercf1]

How about some mafia max heartbreak

One of the uncles gets hurt in their house and the babies see🥺 maybe Cassie finding uncle Charles or fabby finding lando unconscious and freaking out

A/N: Oh these poor babies, I hate to put them through heart break but...alright I couldn't put baby Fabby through that so light angst.

He knew he was supposed to be asleep; Momma had put him to bed hours ago but instead of sleeping he's been up reading the books that Uncle Lala got him. Fabby knew it wasn't smart, Daddy or Momma could catch him, but he really loved his new books.

Fabby jumps, hearing a crash and people cursing but then it grows silent, he gently clicks off his flashlight, hoping that Momma or Daddy don't come in the room. But just like his father, his curiosity gets the better of him as he tiptoes out of his room, making sure not to wake up Cassie.

Holding his little dino stuffie he carefully walks down the stairs, knowing that at 4 he should be careful, and careful he is, like the good boy Daddy always calls him. He stops when he hears the familiar voice of his father, and he hugs his dino stuffie tight.

Looking around the corner Fabby freezes seeing Uncle Lala laying on the floor with people rushing around him. "Lala!" Max whips around fast, horror and dread dropping in his stomach seeing his little baby boy there in his pjs and holding his stuffie.

"Fabby," He whispers and moves quickly picking up Fabian and holding him close. "Lala," He cries starting to get panicky wanting his Uncle Lando to wake up. "Daddy, Lala, why not he....wake up," Fabby starts to sniff and Max moves them into the kitchen making sure he couldn't hear or see anything.

"Lala has to take a nap right now, he's really tired so he has to nap, like you should be doing," Max explains softly, not wanting to freak out his son. "Daddy, take nappy with Lala?" He moves to get down but Max holds him still, so he doesn't jump off and go to Lando. "No, baby, come on you can sleep with me," Fabby shakes his head no, his eyes getting wide and glossy.

"Wan Lala," Fabby whimpers and Max sighs, dropping his head as he knew Fabian wouldn't give up easy. "Max?" The kitchen light flicks on as you freeze seeing Fabby up and Max's blood spattered shirt. "Max, go change, now." You say softly, but also quiet sternly that has him looking down and going pale.

"Oh, oh god, Y/n, baby, I didn't know," He whispers, and moves quickly going up the stairs as you walk and cage Fabian in. "Fabby, little kitten, what are you doing up?" You ask softly, pushing back his little blonde hair. "Lala," He points with his little hand and you look behind you.

"Stay here," You say and move into the living room and notices the doctors are done with Lando. "Is he...awake?" You whisper kneeling as you press his hair back sighing. You knew how much Fabby loved Lando, it was the same with Cassian and Charles, thick as thieves. "Yeah, little groggy," Doc nods and Lando chuckles softly, "4 bullets, ironic," And you smile, knowing 4 was Lando's lucky number.

"Oscar and Carlos are going to be pissed," Lando groans and rolls his eyes. "Whatever," "Well, Mr. Lucky, you've got mini you worried," Lando tries to sit up but Doc gently shoves him down. "Uhu," He shakes his head but Lando fights him.

"I'll go get him," You reassure and Lando nods as Max comes jogging down the stairs, "Hey man," And moves quickly to his side. "Took some bullets for you, and all you say is "hey man"" Lando grumbles but stops as Fabby comes running in holding his dino. "Lala," Lando smiles and moves using his good arm to lift him up. "Hey dino man," Fabby giggles and lays down. "Read?" He asks and Max chuckles.

"Fabby, Lala will read to you later, get some sleep," He whispers and leans down kissing Fabby head who giggles. "Do I get a kiss too?" Lando giggles and Max smacks him lightly on the head. "Yes," You lean down and kiss his cheek. "Thank you for bringing my husband home," You whisper, Max wrapping his arm around your waist.

"Thank you," Max whispers turning off the light as Lando makes up a story to Fabby, the sounds of little giggles leave you and Max as you walk upstairs.

[literaryavenger]

Obsessed

Summary: Your crush on Bucky may be getting out of control.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: Dramatic Reader. Language. Angst. Fluff. My poor attempts at being Funny.

Word Count: 1.4K I'm physically incapable of making anything short.

A/N: I wrote this in like 2 hours and I don't even know what this is, just... Yeah.

Masterlist

This is terrible.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to you.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to anyone. It's just the most horrible, dreadful, awful thing that could’ve ever happen to yo-

“Would you stop staring at him for fuck's sakes!” Natasha's hissed words make your eyes snap to her and finally away from the metal armed Supersoldier lifting weights. Shirtless.

You don't know when Bucky stopped feeling self-conscious enough to allow him to workout in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, but it has become literal torture for you.

Needless to say, Bucky's current level of undress is making it impossible for you to concentrate on the stretching you're supposed to be doing before your sparring match with Natasha.

But your very thoughtful and not at all exasperated friend makes sure to keep your attention on her during the entirety of our match by thoroughly kicking your ass.

What a lovely best friend you have.

Anyways.

Your entire mood shifts with one not intentionally overheard conversation. Steve enters the gym and goes straight to Bucky, who was putting his weight set down.

“She’s here!” Is all the blonde says to his friend and your heart stops at the way Bucky’s face lights up with a smile, not needing any more information before following Steve out of the gym.

She’s here? Who the fuck is she? Does Bucky have a girlfriend? And most importantly, she’s here? In the Compound?

Natasha can almost see the gears turning in your brain as you make no attempts to move from the mat after she knocked you on your ass for the hundredth time today. You didn’t even seem to notice her hand offering you help to get up, your eyes still looking where Bucky was just a moment ago, staring at nothing in particular while your brain drowns in your overthinking.

Natasha sighs and decides to end the match here, kneeling down in front of you and placing her hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently to snap you out of it.

“Don’t overthink this.” She tells you when she’s sure she has your attention. “It’s probably just a friend visiting.” She tries to comfort you, but you both know that’s highly unlikely. 

Bucky has no other friends outside the team. He doesn’t know how to talk to civilians anymore after everything he’s been through, and gave up trying to after the hundredth time he saw fear in a person’s eyes just by recognizing him. So his friend circle now includes the team and the agents of SHIELD that are not intimidated by him. Point is, every friend he has already lives in the Compound.

So who the fuck is here just to see him? 

Natasha can see that this is a lost battle, your eyes barely concentrating on her as you start drowning in your mind again. All she can do when you’re like this is try to distract you and keep you out of your head. So she takes your hand and helps you up, leading the way to the common room to watch one of your beloved romcoms together, because that’s how much she loves you.

Big mistake.

“Y/N! Y/N!” The excited high-pitched voice came just seconds after you set foot in the common room. And that’s about the only warning you got before the excited 5-year-old jumped on you, your reflexes thankfully quick enough to catch her.

“Hi, Maguna!” You say while chuckling as the little girl hugs you. “You seem excited today. Did you get into the sugar cabinet again?”

Morgan giggles at your joke and shakes her hand before taking your face in her little hands and dramatically saying, “No! A princess came to visit uncle Bucky! A real princess.”

You frown, confused at what she’s talking about, before you look around the room and finally notice everyone else in it. Pepper and Tony are on the couch, looking at you lovingly as you interact with their daughter.

You love Morgan, she’s like a little sister. You never miss an opportunity to babysit her and you spend as much time with her as you can. She also loves you, out of all the Avengers you’re her favorite, much to everyone’s dismay. She calls them all ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’, but you’re just Y/N. You’re her big sister, you don’t need a title. Which is why you're the only one other than Tony allowed to call her 'Maguna'.

Then you notice the other people in the room: Steve, Bucky and… Shuri. The fucking Princess of Wakanda, standing in the common room of the Avengers Compound and just smiling at you as you carry Morgan.

You’ve never met Shuri, but you know she played an important part in deprogramming the Winter Soldier out of Bucky, and you’re grateful to her for it. She’s important to Bucky, and you can’t believe you forgot Bucky has Wakandan friends.

You put Morgan down on the ground again and the little girl takes your hand and aggressively steers you towards where Steve, Bucky and Shuri are standing, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of a real life princess.

“Hi, I’m Shuri.” She offers you her hand when you get close enough and you shake it with your free hand while introducing yourself.

There’s a bit of an awkward pause and you’re about to say the first thing that pops into your head when Morgan thankfully saves you by pulling on your hand, making you look at her. She tells you to come close and, chuckling, you kneel beside her so she can whisper conspiratorially in your ear.

“She’s a princess and she’s really pretty, but I still like you better.” She whispers and you can’t help but laugh.

God, you love this little girl.

You smile brightly at her and launch a tickle attack, her adorable giggles filling the room as everyone looks at you two with warm smiles.

Your attention is solely on Morgan, until you unintentionally hear the whispered conversation between Shuri and Bucky.

“So, this is the girl, huh? She’s pretty.” Shuri says and your heart skips a beat. 

You glance at them as discreetly as you can while still tickling Morgan, only to find Bucky looking at someone behind you. You turn around less carefully and see Sharon just entered the room, and she's also looking at Bucky with a smirk. You quickly return your attention to Morgan, but your mind is going a thousand miles a minute.

Of course he’d like someone more like Sharon. She’s pretty, she’s talented, she’s a total badass and she’s not afraid to go after what she wants.

She’s not a mass of anxiety in the shape of a woman that overthinks everything and becomes a flustered mess every time she’s even near Bucky.

It’s time to admit it to yourself: Bucky just doesn’t see you like that and you need to move on. 

Natasha is right, your obsession with Bucky needs to end.

What you don’t see is Bucky almost glaring at Sharon because he knows damn well why she’s smirking. She came in just before Shuri whispered to Bucky, when he was very intent on looking at you with heart eyes as you played with Morgan.

Just before you looked at him, Bucky noticed Sharon and he had to hold in a groan at her because he knows that she’s never gonna let him live this down.

Both Sharon and Steve have tried really hard to convince Bucky that you like him back and he should make a move on you. But Bucky, being as stubborn as they come, never believes them.

He obviously makes you uncomfortable, you’re always stuttering when he’s around and you avoid eye contact whenever possible. He’s just glad that you can stand his presence enough for the two of you to work together when necessary and to hang out with the rest of the team without problems.

So he just enjoys looking at you from a distance. He loves watching you play with Morgan and his thoughts always run wild with images of you playing like that with kids that are yours and his.

But he knows that’s never going to happen. Why would you like a damaged, PTSD ridden soldier that can’t even make it through the night without waking up from a nightmare? No, that’s definitely not your type.

Bucky accepts the truth: He doesn’t deserve you and you don’t see him like that anyways. 

It doesn’t matter that Sam thinks he’s obsessed, that won’t stop him from looking at you whenever he’s lucky enough to get a glimpse of his little ray of sunshine.

Requested taglist: @vicmc624 @matchat3a @nerd-without-a-cause @sapphirebarnes @cjand10 @mostlymarvelgirl @julvrs @blackhawkfanatic @lillianacristina @armystay89 @imdoingbetternow @spookyparadisesheep @elizalexwil @aceofhearts25 @dontworryboutitsweetheartxx-blog @justab-eautifulmess @buggy14 @thedonswife13

[pseudowho]

Ditch the Party

Nanami Kento hates parties; but the drinks? They make him...bold.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Nanami Kento is a horny drunk, just regular old smut here

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Just...promise me you'll behave tonight," you beseeched Kento as you pressed your earrings into place. You saw Kento lean back into the bathroom on his way out, bristling, indignant. Your nose twitched in amusement as he caught your eye in the mirror, looking stern.

"I don't know what you mean," he replied stiffly. You scoffed.

"You absolutely do," you countered, turning, your hand on his chest. Looking him up and down, in a slim black suit and burgundy shirt, tie-less, you felt outdone.

As you leaned back on the bathroom counter, Kento's eyes had a naughty twinkle as he leaned down towards you. Your eyes narrowed with a smile of warning, and you pressed one finger to his lips. Tapping his nose as he opened his mouth to bite your finger, you reminded him.

"Come on, big guy. We'll be late. The taxi guy's probably sick of waiting for us." You slithered past Kento, feeling his fingers brush your waist for the barest of moments, as you gripped his hand and pulled him towards the door.

In the taxi, Kento gazed at the city lights, considering his life choices; "Why are we going to a party this evening? We don't even like parties." You laughed, reapplying your lipstick in a mirror.

"We don't, it's true. But it's a big birthday for my uncle, and we promised," you wheedled. Kento grunted his disapproval beside you. Your eyes narrowed at him again; "And, it's a family friendly event, so..."

Kento looked at you again, innocent but challenging. He let your statement hang; this time, it was you who was bristling, indignant.

The party had already begun by the time you arrived; held at your aunt and uncle's home, a warm orange glow and thrum of conversation spilled out from the kitchen to the garden, deep green hedges flickering with torchlights and tiny twinkling fairy lights. The music was low, the conversation easy and audible above it. A barbeque puffed out woody smoke. Drinks were flowing freely. You sighed as you approached, relieved.

"See? It's the good kind of party," you pressed, squeezing Kento's hand reassuringly. He sighed, unable to argue with you, reassuring you with a gentle smile that you didn't need to babysit him all evening for fear of him having a dreadful time in the company of others.

While Kento headed in to fetch drinks, you greeted family and friends. Kento returned soon after, with a large gin and tonic for you, and a larger whiskey for him. He slipped an arm firmly round your waist, pulling you flush to him as he planted a kiss to your forehead.

The night wore on, the conversation lubricated by alcohol, and small, tipsy groups milled around the garden fires. As food was served, an elderly aunt approached, and asked Kento how he was enjoying the meal.

"It's delicious, thank you," he replied low and smooth before leaning into your ear, whispering, "it almost tastes as good as yo--"

"I'm sorry, dear?" Kento leaned up, all smiles to your elderly aunt, as you blushed from your ears to your toes.

"I said, it tastes almost as good as your cooking, auntie," he lied and she chirped, flattered, patting him on the arm with a smile. Your auntie headed away, and you spun to Kento with a look of warning. He completely ignored you, honeyed eyes glowing in the firelight.

Eyes narrowing at him, you headed over to the table to fetch Kento a glass of water, and almost immediately felt him cage you against the table from behind, his sculpted shoulders leaning past you to rest on his knuckles on the tablecloth. You felt his warm, whiskey breath against your neck.

"We could always bend you over this table," he murmured, as you felt a throb of lust in your belly, "and see how hard we could make it shake." As you spun, still caged by Kento's arms, a family friend approached just beside you and offered you and Kento an uncertain smile. Kento plucked your hair clip off the table from behind you, holding it up with a cunning smile.

"There it is, darling," he said warmly, the family friend now less uncertain, "I told you we'd find it." The family friend left, and you hissed up at him.

"Kento. Behave." He fixed you with a look of faux-innocence as he stood, finishing his whiskey.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, smiling at your uncle, wishing him a happy birthday as he passed, and then leaned over you again, pulling you close to his chest as he rumbled, eyes hooded and glinting, "but then, you never do make much sense when I'm fucking you until you can't see straight."

You groaned against his chest, hand over your eyes, mortified. You heard your aunt gently asking Kento if you were alright.

"She's fine," he chuckled, "can't handle her drinks, I think." Your aunt cooed, sharing a joke with Kento, and you gaped up at Kento, who accepted another drink from your uncle, utterly shameless.

"Kento," you hissed again, "you are just a--"

"Menace?" He rumbled, ghosting his lips over yours, whispering, "I could be. Just give me a bit of time, and something to tie you up with, and--"

Your mother came over, greeting you both, and you were forced to play drunk, you were so flushed at this point, babysat by Kento as he rolled his eyes fondly at you and made small talk.

Kento slipped his hand lower and lower behind you as he talked with your mother, and you felt his long fingers trace your thigh, surreptitiously climbing upwards beneath your skirt to graze your arse, before creeping round again and you felt his fingers brush softly against your fol--

You squeaked, jumping, your drink sloshing over your toes. Kento flapped a hand above your head.

"Just a moth," he reassured you and your mother. Your mother gave your burning cheek a kiss. Kento waited just long enough for your mother to leave, before looping an arm round your waist, pulling you into the shadows, behind hedges further down the garden. You squeaked with alarm. Kento drained both of your drinks, and unceremoniously abandoned the glasses in a bush, before pulling you onto a sheltered bench by your uncle's koi carp pond.

You were thrumming with embarrassment at this point, and leapt off the bench, mortified by Kento's utter shamelessness and alcohol-loosened tongue, ready to chew him out...but...

Kento sat on the bench, legs spread wide in his tight black trousers, thick, toned arms stretched out across the back of the bench. He looked deeply into your eyes, chiselled face dramatised in the shadows. Slowly reaching a hand out, he pinched the top of your skirt, pulling you in between his spread legs, strong and determined.

"We don't like parties," he toned, low and sultry, as you were pulled into his lap, "but we do like it when you ride me until our clothes are ruined."

Kento grabbed your thighs, forcing your skirt up to your waist and parting your legs around his lap. He hesitated, changing his mind and lifting you off him briefly. With no argument, he stripped off your underwear, pressing it to his nose and breathing in with a groan and a shiver, eyes closed in ecstasy. You hissed to him again, terrified of being found, arse and pussy open to the world--

Kento pulled you back down to straddle his lap again, sinking his hand into the back of your hair and tipping your head back as he ran his tongue and teeth against your throat.

"Nobody else will be able to see that wet little pussy of yours...if it's as close as I want it." Slipping two fingers between your legs, Kento rubbed your clit in tight little circles, and you felt hard and fast pangs of pleasure through you as you trembled, gripping Kento's shoulders desperately.

"Someone will hear, Kento--" he bit your neck in warning, squeezing your arse hard as he moaned, shivering as he continued to press hard against your clit.

"Well then be quiet, my love." You mewled, muffling your face into his neck, quaking as his clever fingers dragged you to orgasm, stimulating you hard and fast until your thighs shook, and his hand was wet with your arousal.

Kento's eyes were dark and determined now, single-minded as he unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock, solid and weeping pre-cum against his belly as he stroked it, lubricating himself with your cum. Locking his arms behind your back, he lifted you and slammed your sensitive pussy down onto himself, bottoming out immediately.

You shrieked, and Kento clapped a hand over your mouth, nipping your lips as he shot you a lustful, playful look. Hands then locked behind your hips again, he lifted you up and down with wet slaps, immediately seeing stars with the relentless pace, chasing your pussy with his hips as he bucked.

You gasped, breathless against his neck as his cock bullied into you, pliable and shaking as Kento groaned into you, unashamedly loud-- "harder," he insisted, increasing the pace with his hands clenching the fat of your hips, "harder."

His mouth pressed to yours, kisses hot and smoky with whiskey as he nipped at your bottom lip, his groans deep and guttural as he felt your pussy clench around him while you held onto his lapels, mewling, tipsy, completely fucked senseless, as promised.

Feeling the trembling of your plush walls around him (the nerves of his cock already electrified by the alcohol) had Kento reeling  and he came, whimpering into your mouth as he ground your hips against his, bottomed out and warm shots of cum spurting directly against your cervix.

You both shook, tangled and sweaty, spent, while Kento chuckled and you slapped him on the chest. You heard voices approach; your uncle, excited to show someone his prized koi carp.

Kento threw you onto the bench beside him as you yanked down your skirt, and Kento zipped himself up, putting an arm around your shoulders.

Your uncle arrived, "Oh, hey kids! Enjoying my carp-- whose are those?"

Kento coughed delicately, eyeing your forgotten underwear at the side of the pond; "No idea," he said, coolly, "they were here when we arrived."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Infiltration, Chapter 5: Breaking Point, IS coming this weekend as promised...but in the meantime

[peachsukii]

Tidal Wave

『♡』 pro-hero fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo ♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist ♡ summary: a horrible accident occurs while reader is on patrol for the night. when she's released, she runs to bakugo's apartment for support tags & warnings: loss of parent, failed rescue, trauma, angst, emotional comfort, fluff a/n: in my head, katsuki would be a very supportive BF who would comfort you after a bad day in any way he could, especially when it comes to losing people on the job. it's never easy and heroes need care, too!! ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 1,454 ꒱

Getting ready to head out for a short night shift, you text Bakugo to let him know you're safe. He's always worried whenever they schedule you super late, especially by yourself.

[you] i'm heading in now, want me to text you when i'm home? might be late [kat] yes, don't care. if i'm up or not, i'll at least know you got home safe [you] okay, love you [kat] love you too

───

Time of death; 12:05AM.

The rain pelted against the neoprene material of your hero suit as you stood with the paramedics.

“Y/H/N?” One of them called to you. “We need your report on the incident.” She waited beside you with a clipboard, her paperwork growing damp with each raindrop.

─── A normal late night patrol, you’d been walking a dimly lit street on your route when a small child came running up to you, latching on to your leg. She couldn’t have been more than 8 years old.

“Excuse me! Miss hero!” She sniveled as she buried her face against your thigh, clutching your suit in her tiny palms. She was shaking like a leaf - covered in, what you presume, is mud.

You slouch over, a gentle hand on her head. “What’s wrong, little one?” She looks up at you, her eyes the color of sapphires.

“My mommy is in trouble! I tried to help her, but…please miss hero, come with me!”

Her dainty fingers grab your hand and pull you in the direction she came from. A few minutes down the road, you see an older woman on the riverbank. She’s face down, it’s hard to see without direct light what exactly happened. You’re jogging over to her with the little girl by your side.

“Sweetie, can you tell me what happened?” You ask the child.

She wipes a dribble of snot on the back of her hand. “Mommy and I were walking over there,” she points to the nearby bridge. “And she fell over into the water!”

”You’re very brave to come find help,” you praise, giving her a pat on the back. “Let’s get your mommy away from the water while I call my friends to help.”

While waiting for the rescue crew to arrive, you cautiously move the mother further away from the edge of the river. Suddenly, she begins to seize, catching you off guard. She’s gasping for air, flailing her arms around with tears pricking the corner of her eyes. You roll her on her side, rubbing her back as you see the lights of the sirens coming over the bridge.

Come on, come on, get here faster!

The ambulance pulls up on the pathway and 3 paramedics dispatched from all sides. They’re running up to you, yelling, “Clear the way!” You take the little girl’s hand and guide her up the riverbank to the ambulance.

“She’s been poisoned! Grab the siphon kit, stat!”

As chaos is brewing all around, rain begins to patter against the grass outside. You’re wiping mud off of the little girl’s face as you hear, “We’re losing her!”

You place your hands softly over her ears, turning to the paramedics as they’re attempting to revive her mother.

Please, no...

"Is my mommy going to be okay?" the little girl asks sheepishly. You can't answer her, you just nod your head and smile the best you can. You have to keep a brave face for her.

Then, you hear the dreaded noise.

* Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep *

Your heart drops, sinking into your stomach as you squeeze your eyes shut. Everyone in the vicinity is holding their breaths collectively. The paramedic with the respiratory machine wearily gets to her feet.

"Mark the time of death as 12:05AM."

───

You’re on autopilot, shoving your emotions deep down as you recall the events of the night to the paramedic for her report. You can't emote right now, you have to pull it together until you can leave.

"The child will be brought into protective custody until we find a relative. Thank you for your service, Y/H/N. You're free to go - we'll take it from here."

Before leaving the scene, you take one last glance over to the small girl. She's under a blanket in the back of the ambulance, staring blankly into space.

It breaks your heart.

───

You're sprinting, faster than your legs can carry you, through the downpour as you approach Bakugo's apartment complex. What time even was it? Last you checked, almost 12:30AM. He's gonna be pissed when you wake him up.

You needed him, now more than ever.

You round the corner of the third floor and skid to a stop at his door, soaking wet, leaving a puddle onto the hallway floor. You can hardly breathe as you knock, praying he's either still awake or won't be frustrated.

Fuck, I should have just called.

To your surprise, Bakugo answers the door after only two knocks. His expression shifts violently from annoyed to worried when he sees you standing there, immediately pulling you inside and shutting the door.

"What the fuck happened Y/N?!" he asked, more so demanded.

You can't hold it together anymore - you crumble into his arms, sobbing hysterically. His t-shirt absorbs the waterfall of tears you're crying, inconsolable against his chest as he's supporting your weight.

He runs his hand through your bangs, brushing the wet strands away from your face.

"Shh, hey, it's alright," he whispers, stroking your wet hair. "Any louder and you're gonna get me a noise complaint."

You let go, realizing that you've made a mess of his entryway and his t-shirt. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't -"

"Y'don't have to explain shit. Now let me get you out of that before you catch a cold."

Bakugo spins you around, tugging at the zipper of your hero suit harshly. The skin-tight bodysuit under the rest of your gear loosens, letting him slip his hands inside and peeling it off of your cool skin. You didn't realize how cold you were until this moment, shivering beneath his touch. Your suit crumples onto the floor, along with the rest of your accessories, leaving you in your underwear.

He tenderly grabs your shoulders, pushing you toward the bathroom. Little droplets of water fall from your damp hair as he's leading you down the hallway.

Before you know it, steams is rolling out of the shower as Bakugo is stripping himself down to get in with you. He soothes you as he takes the rest of your clothes off, guiding you into the shower with him. He puts you under the water first, rinsing your body with the hot water to warm you back up.

As the water cascades around the two of you, he's stroking your back, eliciting the remainder of your emotions to come pouring out. A quiet sob escapes you as you try to explain yourself.

"I...I couldn't save her," you start to say, hiccupping between your words. "Her daughter was...she was just a kid...I couldn't help her mother."

Bakugo kisses your forehead. "I'm sorry, baby. I figured that was the case." He continues to wash your hair and body, peppering you with kisses and letting you cry out the feeling. He knows all too well how you feel - the first time you lose someone you're protecting on patrol hurts a fuck ton, no matter the circumstance. It never gets easier.

Once you're all cleaned up, he steps out of the shower first to grab towels. He hands you one as he exits the bathroom, muttering just a sec under his breath. Not more than a minute later, Bakugo returns with a handful of his clothes for you.

"Arms up, buttercup," he playfully sings as he throws the t-shirt over your head, ruffling it at the hem to get it to fit over your physique. He kneels to the floor, a pair of his boxers stretched out for you to step into. You oblige as he yanks them up your legs and comfortably settles them on your hips.

You shuffle your feet in place, slightly embarrassed. "I'm sorry for making such a mess, Kat. I didn't know what else to do in the moment."

He cups your cheek in his hand. "Idiot, y'don't need an excuse to come to me. You should know that by now."

Bakugo takes your hand in his, leading you out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. He tucks you under the covers first and settles in behind you, immediately wrapping his arms around your midsection.

"I'll wash your suit for you tomorrow," he says hushed, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "I love you, baby."

"I love you too, Kats. Thank you."

Just a quick little blurb 'cause I wanted to write Katsuki being sweet without hesitation. :)

Divider by : @/saradika

[fvsm4x]

S1 E15 — ☆ LOVE AT FIRST BITE

pairing. ( 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢 𝗦. 𝗫 𝗙𝗘𝗠 ! 𝗥𝗘𝗔��𝗘𝗥 )

Vampire Suguru Geto has his eyes—and fangs—on you. He’s hungry for more than just blood, and your only choice is to surrender to his bite or try to fight your way out of his seductive grasp.

cw. vampire geto suguru x female reader , a bit of bloodplay , LOTS of dirty talk , dubcon , stalking , fingering , mdni , 18+ , kinda nasty , nsfw , wc. 5.2k

tagging. @sadmonke @collectionofdolls @1t4d0r1 @glazedtear @madamechrissy

a.n/ this is kinda bad so read it at ur own risk

The night feels alive, pulsing with an ancient, unseen force. The streets are empty, abandoned to the fog that coils through the narrow alleys like creeping fingers. Each step you take echoes off the crumbling stone walls, bouncing back at you in a distorted rhythm. You can’t shake the sense that the world has changed somehow, that you’ve crossed an invisible boundary into something older, darker.

The air is colder here, biting at your skin in a way that feels unnatural. It seeps into your bones, a chill that has nothing to do with the weather. Every instinct screams for you to turn back, to retrace your steps and leave this place behind. But when you glance over your shoulder, the path you came from is swallowed by the same thick mist that seems to swallow the city whole. There’s no way to tell which way is out, which direction leads back to safety.

You move forward, more out of necessity than choice, your heart thudding against your ribs with a persistent, anxious beat. Each shadow seems to move just out of the corner of your eye, and every gust of wind sounds like a distant whisper, as though the night itself is breathing, watching.

The streets wind like a maze, unfamiliar and endless, their cobblestones slick with the faint sheen of mist. Above, the moon is a thin crescent, barely lighting your path. It offers little comfort, the pale glow distorted by the swirling fog, casting ghostly shapes that seem to dance and stretch in the corners of your vision.

Your pulse quickens with every step, the silence pressing down on you until it feels oppressive. No rustling leaves, no distant hum of traffic, no signs of life at all. It’s as if the entire city has gone to sleep, leaving you as the sole wanderer in a world that’s forgotten time. The only sound is the steady click of your footsteps, a hollow reminder of your presence here, in this place where you shouldn’t be.

A sense of dread crawls up your spine, sharp and unrelenting. You quicken your pace, footsteps clicking louder against the stone, trying to shake the growing unease that’s settling deep in your gut. But no matter how fast you walk, the streets twist and turn, each one looking the same as the last. It’s like the city itself is shifting, pulling you deeper into its labyrinthine heart.

Something isn’t right. You can feel it in the way the shadows linger too long in certain places, as if they’re watching you, waiting. The fog thickens, swirling around your legs, clinging to your skin with an eerie persistence. Every breath you take is laced with the scent of something metallic, like rain mixed with iron—faint, but unmistakable.

Then you notice it—something subtle, just on the edge of your awareness. A presence. It’s nothing you can see or hear, but you feel it nonetheless. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and a chill runs down your spine, sharp and electric. You aren’t alone.

Your pace falters, your feet dragging to a slow, reluctant stop. The silence presses in harder, thick and suffocating, and you scan the fog for any sign of movement. But there’s nothing, just the empty streets and the distant glow of a few dim streetlights, barely cutting through the haze.

But the feeling doesn’t go away.

It gets stronger.

A soft breeze brushes past you, carrying with it the faintest sound—a whisper, almost too soft to hear, like the breath of someone standing just behind you. You spin around, your heart leaping into your throat, but there’s no one there. Just the fog, thick and impenetrable, swirling in slow, lazy patterns.

Your hands clench into fists, trying to calm the rising panic in your chest. It’s nothing. Just your imagination playing tricks on you. But as you turn back to keep moving, the feeling lingers—an oppressive weight on your shoulders, like someone’s watching you, following you, though you can’t see them.

The fog shifts again, and for a moment, you catch a glimpse of something in the distance—a figure, standing still, barely visible through the mist. Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart skips a beat. They’re too far away to make out clearly, but they’re there. Tall. Motionless.

Watching.

You blink, and the figure is gone, swallowed up by the fog as quickly as it appeared. You swallow hard, the taste of fear thick in your mouth. Every instinct screams for you to run, but your feet feel like they’re rooted to the spot, frozen in place by an invisible force. You force yourself to move, your steps faster now, almost frantic, trying to shake the feeling that’s growing stronger with every second.

The street narrows, pulling you into a dark, winding alley. The walls close in around you, the shadows thicker here, almost tangible. The air is colder now, so cold it bites at your skin. Your breaths come out in short, visible puffs, and you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to stave off the creeping chill.

Just as you think you’ve lost whatever was following you, you feel it again—that presence. Closer now.

Your pulse hammers in your ears, drowning out the quiet shuffle of your own footsteps. The alley is suffocating, the walls seeming to curve in as you move deeper, like they’re pushing you toward some unseen end. You keep glancing over your shoulder, half-expecting to see that figure in the fog again—closer this time, maybe just a step behind you.

But there’s nothing.

Just the endless fog and your own ragged breaths cutting through the silence.

As you reach the end of the alley, you stop. A dead end. Your heart sinks, and the realization settles in with a cold dread. You turn, scanning the way you came, but it’s the same suffocating nothingness. The fog is so thick now that it obscures everything, leaving you trapped in a world of shadows and faint, ghostly shapes.

Then, from somewhere in the mist, a sound. Soft, almost imperceptible, but unmistakable—the quiet rustle of movement.

Your muscles tense as you strain to hear, but it’s gone, swallowed by the fog. You take a step back, your hand instinctively reaching for the cold, rough stone of the wall behind you, needing something solid to ground you, to remind you that this is real.

And then, a shadow shifts.

This time, there’s no mistaking it. The figure is there again, standing just at the edge of the alley, barely visible through the fog. But this time, they don’t disappear. They stand still, watching.

Your breath quickens, and you force yourself to speak, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. "Who’s there?"

No answer. Just the silence, heavy and oppressive, weighing down on you like a blanket of lead.

You take a step back, the instinct to run overpowering, but your feet refuse to cooperate. The figure moves then—slowly, deliberately, as if savoring each step. It’s impossible to see their face, but you can feel their eyes on you, watching with an intensity that makes your skin prickle.

Another step closer.

And then another.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you press yourself harder against the wall, trying to disappear into the stone. But there’s nowhere to go. The alley is a trap, and they know it.

Finally, they step into a thin sliver of light, and you catch your first real glimpse of him—tall, dressed in dark, elegant clothing that seems to melt into the shadows. His face is pale, strikingly so, framed by long, dark hair that cascades over his shoulders like a river of ink. But it’s his eyes that hold you captive—dark, bottomless, filled with a hunger that sends a shiver of primal fear racing down your spine.

Suguru Geto.

You don’t know how you recognize him, but his name reverberates in your mind like a long-forgotten secret. You’ve wandered into a world you don’t understand, and this man, this creature, is at its center. He doesn’t need to say a word for you to know what he is. It’s written in the sharp angles of his face, in the way his gaze lingers on you with something far more dangerous than curiosity.

He takes one final step forward, close enough now that you can see the faint curve of his lips—a smile, cold and predatory.

Your heart pounds wildly, every instinct screaming for you to run, to fight, to do anything but stand there frozen in his gaze. But your body betrays you, rooted to the spot by the magnetic pull of his presence.

For a moment, the world seems to stand still. The fog swirls lazily around you both, and the air between you crackles with something you can’t name—something dark, ancient, and powerful.

Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, Geto tilts his head, his eyes never leaving yours. And in that moment, you know you’re not just being watched. You’re being hunted.

Your pulse thunders in your ears as Suguru Geto steps even closer, closing the distance between you. His gaze holds you captive, a predator toying with its prey, and you can feel the intensity of his hunger, the weight of centuries behind his eyes.

The fog thickens, cocooning you in an eerie silence. Even though your mind screams at you to run, your legs remain frozen, rooted in place by an invisible force. There’s something about him, something magnetic, that keeps you standing there, heart pounding, as he approaches.

Each step is slow, deliberate, as though he’s savoring this moment—the moment before he strikes.

The sharp click of his boots against the cobblestones echoes off the walls, and when he finally stops, mere inches away from you, the world seems to shrink until it’s just the two of you in this suffocating alley. The cold air clings to your skin, but his presence is warm, too warm, as though the darkness itself is alive and breathing.

His eyes trace over your face, lingering on the curve of your neck. You swallow hard, your throat dry, and you know he hears it, the sound impossibly loud in the quiet. His smile deepens, something dark and twisted dancing in the corners of his lips.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice smooth and velvety, laced with an undercurrent of danger. "So afraid, yet you can’t look away, can you?"

Your breath hitches, and though every part of you wants to push him away, to flee, you’re trapped by his voice, by the soft, sinister drawl that coils around you like a snake.

"I can feel your heart racing," he continues, leaning in just enough that you can feel his breath against your skin. "The fear. The anticipation."

He pauses, and for a moment, his gaze shifts, darkening. "But it’s not just fear, is it?"

His words send a chill down your spine, and you hate how right he is. There’s something more stirring inside you—something primal, something that answers the call of his presence. You clench your fists at your sides, trying to fight against the wave of emotions crashing over you.

His eyes flicker to your throat again, and his smile sharpens. "I can smell it," he whispers, his voice a seductive murmur. "Your pulse. Your blood. It’s calling to me."

Your breath stutters, and you feel a hot flush rise to your cheeks. You press back harder against the wall, as if you can somehow disappear into the stone, but it’s futile. Geto’s too close, his presence overwhelming, suffocating.

His hand lifts, slow and graceful, and your eyes are drawn to the way his fingers hover just above your skin. He doesn’t touch you, not yet, but the anticipation is unbearable. You can feel the cold radiating from him, the tension thickening the air between you.

"I could take you now," he says, his voice a soft, dangerous promise. "Sink my fangs into you, drink deep, and make you mine forever."

His words hang in the air, thick with the weight of something ancient and inevitable.

"But..." He pauses, tilting his head slightly as if considering. "Where’s the fun in that?"

His hand moves, fingers ghosting over your neck, barely touching, but the sensation is electric. Your breath catches, and your entire body tenses under the lightest brush of his fingertips.

He leans back just enough to meet your eyes again, his expression unreadable, but the hunger is still there, burning just beneath the surface.

Your mind spins, torn between the need to flee and the strange, intoxicating allure of his presence. You know what he is—what he’s capable of—but there’s something about the way he moves, the way he speaks, that makes you hesitate, caught in the pull of his dark seduction.

His hand lingers at your neck, barely touching, the faint pressure of his fingertips sending an icy thrill down your spine. Your skin prickles under his gaze, your pulse quickening as if your body knows what's coming. You can feel his breath against your ear, the warmth of it in stark contrast to the cold, unnatural chill that hangs in the air.

"Your heart…it‘s beating so fast, so sweet." His fingers trace the curve of your neck, finding the steady thrum of your pulse.

You flinch, your breath catching, and try to pull away from him, but your back is pressed hard against the wall. There’s nowhere to go, nowhere to run. Panic flares in your chest, your instincts screaming at you to fight, to resist. Your hands move, pushing at his chest in a futile attempt to create space, but his body is unyielding, solid like stone.

A soft chuckle escapes him, and his eyes darken with amusement. "You can try to resist, but we both know how this ends." His voice is smooth, the threat hidden beneath a layer of velvet. "But maybe… I’ll indulge you. Make you fight for it."

Your hands tremble as they press harder against him, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, his fingers slide up to your jaw, gently tilting your head to the side, exposing the vulnerable curve of your neck. His eyes lock onto the pulse there, his lips parting just enough to reveal a hint of his fangs—sharp, glistening in the dim light.

"Don’t," you breathe, your voice barely more than a whisper, but even you can hear the uncertainty in it, the tremble of fear and something else you don’t want to name.

Geto’s smile widens, and there’s a wicked glint in his eyes. "Tell me, darling… do you really want me to stop?"

Before you can answer, his lips graze your skin, the faintest brush of warmth against your neck. Your body tenses, and you feel your breath hitch in your throat. The sensation is maddening, his mouth hovering just above your pulse, teasing you with the promise of what’s to come. Your mind screams at you to push him away, to fight, but your body—betrayed by the adrenaline and fear—stays frozen, caught in the web he’s woven around you.

His tongue flicks out, barely grazing your skin, tasting the warmth of your pulse. You shudder involuntarily, your body betraying the resistance you’re trying to hold onto.

"Such a delicate thing," he whispers, his voice sending shivers through you. "So fragile… so easy to break."

His fangs scrape lightly against your skin, a sharp, tantalizing tease that leaves you gasping. Your body reacts, muscles tensing, trying to pull away, but Geto’s grip tightens, holding you firmly in place. The pressure of his hand on your jaw is gentle, yet unyielding, a clear reminder of his power over you.

And then he bites.

The sharp sting of his fangs piercing your skin sends a jolt of pain through you, but it’s quickly followed by a wave of something else—something hotter, darker, that floods your senses. Your breath catches, and your hands instinctively grasp at his shoulders, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.

Blood trickles from the bite, warm and thick, and you feel him drinking from you, his lips pressed to your neck with a hunger that’s both terrifying and intoxicating. The pull of his mouth is steady, slow, as if he’s savoring every drop, each beat of your pulse fueling his dark thirst.

You shudder again, but this time it’s not just fear that grips you. There’s a heat building in your core, an unfamiliar, twisted pleasure that coils tighter with each second that his lips remain on you. Your body is betraying you, responding to the pain and the blood with a strange, irresistible pull.

You try to fight it, to focus on the pain, on the sharpness of his fangs embedded in your neck, but it’s impossible. The heat spreads, radiating from the bite, coursing through your veins like liquid fire. Your breaths come in short, ragged gasps, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you struggle to resist the dark pull of his touch.

"S-stop," you manage to choke out, your voice weak, breathless. Your hands push feebly at his chest again, but it’s no use. His grip on you tightens, pulling you closer, as if your resistance only fuels his hunger.

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, blood staining his lips, his dark eyes gleaming with a dangerous satisfaction. "Still fighting?" he murmurs, amusement flickering in his tone. "How admirable… but we both know how this ends."

His thumb brushes over your lips, smearing a streak of your own blood across them. "Taste it," he commands softly, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. "Feel the life slipping away… surrender to it."

Your lips part, and you shudder, feeling the warmth of the blood against your tongue. The taste is metallic, foreign, but there’s a dark thrill in it, a heady rush that makes you dizzy.

"Good girl," he whispers, his voice a dangerous purr. "Now… let me have the rest."

As the warmth of your own blood touches your lips, a strange sensation begins to bloom in your chest. It starts subtle—just a faint heat curling in your stomach, spreading lower. At first, you think it’s the aftershock of the bite, the intensity of his touch leaving your body confused, but the heat builds quickly, spreading through your veins like wildfire.

Your breaths come faster, more shallow, as your body starts to feel… different. A warmth pools in your core, twisting into something darker, needier, and it spreads so fast that it leaves you lightheaded. Panic flares in your mind, but it’s drowned out by the overwhelming surge of desire crashing through you.

You can’t ignore it—this craving, this burning ache that intensifies with every beat of your heart. Your body feels hot, too hot, and your skin prickles as though it’s too tight, too sensitive. Every movement, every brush of fabric against your skin sends sparks of pleasure through you, and you bite your lip, stifling a moan that rises unbidden in your throat.

Suguru’s eyes gleam, his expression darkening as he watches the change in you. His lips curve into a knowing, sinister smile, and you realize too late that this was part of his plan all along. His bite wasn’t just to taste your blood—it was something more. Something that’s now coursing through your veins, taking over, stripping away your resistance.

"You feel it, don’t you?" he whispers, his voice low and smooth, thick with satisfaction. "The poison spreading through you… making you crave more. You can’t fight it."

Your body trembles, the heat between your thighs building with each passing second. You press your legs together instinctively, but it only makes it worse—the pressure sends a wave of pleasure rippling through you, and a soft gasp escapes your lips before you can stop it.

Suguru steps closer, his hand ghosting over your waist, his touch just barely there, but it sends shivers of longing down your spine. "You’re burning up, aren’t you?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "It’s spreading through your blood. My venom. Twisting you, making you need… more."

You grit your teeth, trying to fight the haze of lust clouding your mind, but it’s impossible. Your body is betraying you, every nerve alight with a desperate hunger you can’t control. Your skin feels hypersensitive, every brush of air, every shift of your clothing setting off sparks of desire that only fuel the fire inside you.

You swallow hard, your legs trembling under the weight of the overwhelming need coursing through you. You try to take a step back, to pull away from him, but your knees buckle, and you gasp as you stumble into his arms.

Suguru catches you easily, his grip firm and possessive, holding you close against him. "Poor thing," he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You’re shaking. It’s getting harder to fight, isn’t it?"

Your breath hitches as his fingers trail down your neck, over the spot where his fangs pierced your skin, and the heat in your core intensifies. You clench your thighs together again, trying desperately to stave off the ache, but the effort is futile. The poison he’s put in your blood has taken root, and your body is consumed with need—need for him, for his touch, for something to quell the unbearable heat inside you.

"You’re finally mine after all these years," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "You can feel it, can’t you? How much you need me. How much your body craves me."

You let out a ragged breath, your voice shaky. "W-What did you do to me?"

He laughs softly, darkly, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist. "Just a little something to make things more… interesting," he says, his tone dripping with amusement. "A venom, if you will. It makes your blood burn with desire. Makes you crave my touch… my bite."

Your heart races, the implications of his words sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins. You want to push him away, to fight the overwhelming sensations, but every fiber of your being is consumed with the need to be touched, to be filled, to satisfy this burning ache that won’t relent.

Suguru leans in closer, his lips brushing against the side of your neck, right where his bite still tingles. "You’re not going to fight it much longer," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You’re already losing yourself to it. I can see it in your eyes, hear it in your breath. You’re mine now… body and soul."

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, gripping tightly as the haze of lust grows stronger, clouding your thoughts. You’re trembling, your body on fire, and the only thing you can think about is how much you need him—how much you need more.

Suguru’s hand moves with deliberate slowness, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist like he’s savoring the way your body reacts to his touch. Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers dip lower, ghosting over your hips, sending shivers through you. The burning ache inside you only intensifies, and it takes everything in you not to arch into his touch.

His lips brush your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "So sensitive," he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive purr. "Your body is already begging for more. I can feel it… the way you’re trembling, the way your breath hitches every time I touch you."

You bite your lip, trying to suppress the moan that threatens to escape as his fingers graze the hem of your shirt, teasing the skin just below your belly. The heat pooling between your thighs is unbearable now, and every brush of his fingers against your skin sends waves of pleasure through you, making your pulse race.

Suguru’s touch is light, almost teasing, as he trails his fingers over your stomach, his thumb brushing just under the waistband of your pants. Your breath comes in shallow gasps, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat echoing the pulse of heat that radiates through your body.

"You’re fighting it," he whispers, his lips grazing your neck, just above the bite mark. "But your body knows what it wants. You can’t hide it from me."

His fingers slide lower, slipping just beneath the fabric of your pants, and you gasp, your hips jerking involuntarily at the sensation. His touch is firm, possessive, as his hand presses against you, the heat of his palm sending another jolt of pleasure through your body. Your knees go weak, and you grasp at his shoulders, your mind spinning from the intensity of it all.

"That’s it," Suguru murmurs, his voice soft but commanding. "Let go. Stop pretending you don’t want this. I can feel how badly you need it."

Your head falls back against the wall, a strangled moan escaping your lips as his hand moves with agonizing slowness, his fingers brushing over your most sensitive spot through the thin fabric. The friction is just enough to make your breath hitch, to send sparks of pleasure shooting through you, but not enough to relieve the burning ache that’s only growing stronger.

"You're so wet," he murmurs, a hint of dark amusement in his voice as his fingers press down, applying just enough pressure to make your legs tremble.

Your body is betraying you completely now, the combination of his touch and the venom coursing through your veins pushing you to the brink. Every part of you is on fire, your skin tingling with a desperate need for more, for release, for anything that will ease the overwhelming heat inside you.

Suguru’s hand moves more purposefully now, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric and finding the slick heat between your thighs. You let out a choked gasp, your back arching instinctively as he begins to tease you, his touch slow and deliberate. Your hips move without your permission, seeking more of his touch, and you hate yourself for how easily he’s unraveling you.

"That’s it," he whispers, his voice low and dark. "You’re giving in… just like I knew you would."

His fingers move with expert precision, stroking you in a way that has your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The pleasure is overwhelming, your body trembling under his touch, and you can’t stop the moans that spill from your lips, each one louder than the last.

"You’re mine now," Suguru murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck, his fangs grazing your skin. "Your body belongs to me."

You moan softly as Suguru’s fingers continue to work their slow, torturous magic, your body betraying every ounce of resistance you’d been clinging to. But amidst the haze of pleasure, something snaps in your mind—just for a moment—and you manage to choke out a question, your voice trembling.

“W-Why me?” you ask, breathless, your fingers clutching at his shirt for stability. “Why… why did you do this?”

For a brief moment, Suguru’s fingers slow, his touch still teasing, but now his voice takes on a more serious tone. He chuckles, but there’s a darkness beneath the sound, something predatory that sends another shiver down your spine—not from pleasure this time, but from something deeper. "Why you?" he echoes, almost mockingly. "I’ve been watching you for years. You never noticed, did you?"

You gasp, his words sinking in, the implications sending your heart racing faster than before. “W-Watching me?” The idea terrifies you, but your body’s craving still burns, confusing your mind even more. You try to push him away, but your limbs feel weak, the venom still coursing through your veins, clouding your judgment.

Suguru leans in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks. "Every move you made. Every little detail. I’ve been obsessed with you from the moment I first saw you." His voice is low, dark, dripping with obsession. "The way you smiled, the way you walked, the way you carried yourself like you didn’t have a care in the world. It drove me crazy."

Your stomach churns at his words, fear mixing with the lingering heat inside you. "Y-You’ve been stalking me?"

Suguru laughs softly, his breath warm against your skin. "I wouldn’t call it stalking. Admiring. Learning. Waiting." He pauses, his fingers still working between your legs, drawing another soft moan from your lips despite your best efforts to suppress it. "You have no idea how hard it was to stay away."

You struggle to focus, the weight of his words sinking in through the fog of desire that clouds your mind. "Then… why now?" you manage to ask, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"Because I couldn’t wait any longer," he growls softly, his tone filled with a dangerous intensity. "I wanted you too badly. Needed to taste you. Needed to feel you beneath me." His fingers press harder against you, and you gasp, your body trembling as another wave of pleasure crashes over you. "You have no idea what you do to me. How much I’ve fantasized about this moment."

His words wrap around you like a vice, and despite the terror creeping up your spine, your body responds to every touch, every word. You hate it, but you crave more, the venom in your blood taking over, making it impossible to think clearly.

"You never noticed," Suguru continues, his voice soft but filled with dark amusement. "All those times you were alone, thinking you were safe… I was there. Watching you, imagining all the ways I’d make you mine." He chuckles softly, his lips brushing against your neck. "And now you are."

Your head spins as the full weight of his obsession crashes over you. You can feel your body giving in to the poison, your resistance slipping further with each passing second. But a part of you—the part that’s still terrified—clings to a shred of defiance. "You’re sick," you whisper, though your voice lacks the strength you intended.

Suguru hums, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Maybe," he whispers against your skin. "But you like it. You like how it feels, don’t you? The way your body responds to me. You can’t deny it."

You bite your lip hard, fighting back the wave of pleasure that’s building inside you. "N-No," you whisper, but it sounds weak, even to your own ears.

He grins, his fangs grazing your neck once more, sending a shiver down your spine. "You can lie all you want, but your body tells me the truth." His fingers press harder, his thumb teasing your clit, and you gasp, your back arching as the pleasure becomes overwhelming.

"You’re mine now," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You’ll always be mine. No one else will ever touch you like this. No one else will make you feel the way I do."

Tears prick your eyes, but you can’t deny the truth in his words. Your body has already betrayed you completely, and the poison coursing through your veins has turned your resistance into a distant memory. All that’s left is the heat, the overwhelming desire, and the terrifying realization that you may never be free from him.

© fvsm4x 2023/4 : do not translate, plagiarise or steal my work.

[chiscaralight]

"8 months?!"

synopsis: weeks of stress call for a friday night of lazing on the couch and drinking with your roommate!toji. you may or may not have accidentally let something slip, and toji takes it into his hands to fix it. not without making sure you're up to the challenge first.

includes: nsfw! toji x fem!reader, drunk sex, they're drinking throughout, alcohol play, all consensual, reader gets referred to as doll/dollface, girl among other things, slight choking, low-key face fucking, p in v, oral both receiving. i love toji, miss u stink w.c: 3.4k

It's been almost two months since you’ve had time for yourself. School, work, and friends have been plaguing you with duty after duty for the longest and it’s all been weighing on you heavily. Now that the midterms are over, you’ve decided to take the next two days off of work and have a long weekend. Five days of doing absolutely nothing and just recuperating from all the stress of the world.

But actually doing absolutely nothing is far from your agenda. You’re shutting your shared apartment door with your hips because your hands are full of bags. Bags of bottles.

No, you don’t have a drinking problem. But everyone needs a good drink once in a while. And what better way to unwind than straight hard liquor and shitty tv shows? Straight hard liquor and shitty tv shows with your roommate, Toji!

You haven’t asked him yet, but you sent a quick text asking if he’d binge a show with you. You make sure to include the fact that there might be some drinking involved, and by the time you’re back from changing, he’s patiently manspreading on the couch, bottle in hand as he smirks at you. You shake your head and make your way over, picking some random sitcom to cheese over while you drink.

It’s not long before you start to get woozy, and you’re much more relaxed and chatty. He’ll never admit it but he’s pleased to see you like this. You haven’t been sharing this apartment with him for so long, so you’re still somewhat reserved. It’s fine though, because it makes the way you talk to him now much more enticing.

You’re even forgoing the show you put on to just drone on and on. His whole demeanor changes when you say something about last getting nasty in February.

“February…girl, it’s October—you haven’t gotten laid in eight months?”

You groan and slap your hands over your face.

You scowl at the thought of that dreadful night. You weren’t some kind of sex god yourself, but you’re pretty sure no one should feel as bad as you did that day. The whole thing was dry, fast, and painfully unsexy. You’re snatching the bottle out of your roommate's hand and raising it to your lip to wash away the memories of pain.

Toji is absolutely dumbfounded at your words. He’d be damned if he could go two weeks without getting his dick sucked, what do you mean eight fucking months??

“must’ve been some weak ass dick to get you out the game for almost a year. fuckin insane.”

toji's eyes rake over your exposed thighs and the buzz from the alcohol is starting to get a bit stronger in his mind.

"y'know, maybe I could help ya with that."

Once the words register in your hazy mind, you're choking on the remaining liquid that covers your tongue. toji's large hand swats rather gently at your back as he grumbles.

"Easy now, didn't mean to startle you. s'just a suggestion anyway."

He leans back and shuts his eyes, letting the swirling feeling take over his body rather than the thought of you. Having to hide the fact he's been eyeing you for the longest time has been hard enough, he doesn't need the air getting too awkward because he couldn't shut his drunk ass up.

"what if... I do want it?"

You’re trying to catch the words before they come out, but your reaction time has been stupidly slowed by the intoxication. You’re inwardly cursing at yourself, turning your head the other way to avoid his eyes.

toji is cracking an eye open to look at your expression, but you're avoiding his face. You gasp as he grips your chin to force your gaze into his own.

"you sure about that, dollface?"

Maybe there is a little doubt somewhere in your mind, but it's not like you haven't thought about fucking toji before. And with the alcohol jumbling the last three thoughts you've managed to hold onto for the last hour, you give him a shaky nod.

Toji smirks before licking the trail of alcohol that had dribbled from your lips prior. His tongue is wet and warm as it drags over the corner of your mouth. He's so close to your face like this and you're parting your lips instinctively. He takes it as a sign to place his mouth on yours. Your lips are just as soft as you, but they're way softer than he imagined. His hand moves towards your neck to grip and pull you closer to him. The quick action has you yelping, and he's shoving his tongue into your mouth.

The kiss is rough, sloppy, and full of teeth. It's so primal, so messy, so toji. You're getting giddy-brained from how that scar is grazing your lip and the strong taste of alcohol isn't helping your situation.

Your body is twisted weirdly to accommodate his position, but something in the back of your mind is telling you to move. You’re fighting a losing battle trying to overpower it, because soon enough you're climbing into his lap to get as close as possible.

This is something he generously welcomes. Placing his hands on your hips, he's guiding your clothed cunt over his hardening cock. His lips trail down the side of your face to the skin of your neck. The harsh bite he gives your neck has you yelping out, and it comes out broken.

His rough fingers are moving up your sides, under the flimsy material of your tank top, and you are getting impatient. It’s almost like he’s doing it on purpose to piss you off, but you’re not angry—more desperate than anything. You’re pushing hard against him, whining—begging for him to help you out. It’s been so long, and toji is doing such a good job at riling you up, you’re sure you’ll explode if this goes on any longer.

“Ah ah, not so fast. Before I fuck this cunt, Y’gotta prove you deserve it. Show me how badly you want it.”

He’s softly shoving you off him, but his face is still so close to yours.

“Y’er mouth, doll. Use that mouth of yours.”

Knees planted firmly into the carpet below you, you’re a little scared. Toji’s cock is out before you; long, angry, and leaking. You always assumed he’d be big, but seeing it up close like this was a whole different story.

“If y’keep starin’ like that, nothing’s gonna get done, princess.”

you suck in a breath before covering the tip of his cock with your lips. His precum is salty-sweet, but you savor the taste nonetheless as it mixes with your saliva and spreads all around his tip. Toji groans at the sensation, throwing his head back.

With a few bobs of your head, you’ve managed to take most of his length without an issue. But he’s still so big, and he’s entirely keen on having himself fully sheathed in your mouth. You whimper when his heavy hand comes in contact with the back of your head.

“c’mon doll, know you can take it all—fuck yeah, jus’ like that.”

The tears welling in your eyes are threatening to spill over when your nose presses against the base of his cock. Your eyes are pressed shut, and you’re barely able to swallow around his cock. When you’re finally able to open them, you catch Toji’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows another mouthful of alcohol. His eyes meet yours in a lustful gaze, and you’re finally comfortable enough to move.

Whether it’s the recent shot he took, or you’re just insanely good, the dark-haired man is losing his fucking mind. The heat from your mouth coupled with the vibrations from noises you’re making around him is sending him to another plane. His entire body feels like static, and he's getting so lost in the pleasure he's completely unaware when he starts to guide your lips up and down his length.

Your nails are digging into the exposed muscles of his thighs as he humps up to meet your head coming down, and you can't hold back the tears anymore. You're taking everything he's giving you so well, not a single complaint from the moment he started to fuck your face until he finishes staining the back of your throat with his thick cum.

He rides every single drop out into your mouth, making sure his balls are completely empty before letting you pull off. Your face is tear-stricken, and you're huffing to catch your breath, but you're far from done.

“fucker really lost a gem, huh. Alright—your turn, get up here n’lay down.”

With your back pressed to the arm of the couch, toji is staring at you from

above. Usually, you’d be self-conscious, being fully naked and all, but it looks like the gears in his head are turning, and they’re turning hard. he takes another second before pausing, reaching over behind you to grab at your almost empty bottle.

It’s quick, and soon enough the room-temperature liquid is trickling down your body. The lips of the bottle are pressed just above your tits, starting to dribble down between them and the trail is messy and diverging. You can feel the drops splitting off and falling onto the cushions below you, but you’re much too enticed by the concentration on his face.

You shiver when you feel the drink starting to pool in your belly button, and he decides it’s enough. He places the bottle down on the ground beside him before connecting his mouth with the beginning of his newly made trail.

Even in the cool air of the living room, your body is insanely hot. His lips are working stupidly slow, warm tongue flicking over every droplet he could catch. It should be weird, but the way his brows are furrowed in deep concentration is making the heat brewing in your belly pick up. He’s taking his time, bending and weaving his neck as he makes his way down, down and down.

Toji’s rough tongue swirls deep in your belly button, and you can’t help the way your stomach churns. It’s doing weird things to you, the way he’s drinking out of the shallow dip. he only stops when he’s satisfied with how much he was able to get out. His hot trail of biting, sucking, and kisses doesn’t stop until his lips are stationed right above your clit.

In terms of patience, toji doesn’t have a lot of it. He thinks he’s done an almost perfect job of taking his time with you, making sure you’re as wanting as possible. But your scent is assaulting his mind, and the bits of intoxication he’s picked up from drinking off your body alone are starting to fuck with him just a bit.

So he mumbles something under his breath before pushing your thighs up and diving in. It’s almost all too quick the way his mouth closes around your swollen clit. Your body is raising from the chair, but toji is keeping you so strongly grounded against his face as he sucks hard. Your hands are trying to find something—anything to keep you from absolutely losing it, and your shaky fingers settle on his head.

Your nails are digging deep into his scalp, fisting at his dark locks that are now damp with sweat. You’re pulling him closer and closer into your heat, and your vision starts to go white once he invites a thick finger in.

It’s not normal how good this feels. Even though your last fuck was so ass, all the good ones combined couldn’t even compare to what you’re feeling now. Your mouth is leaking words your brain can’t register, and Toji’s scar grazing the puffy skin of your pussy is not helping.

His large hand still has your leg up in the air just high enough, and he’s giving you the benefit of the doubt that if he lets it go you won’t disappoint. He can feel the way your foot starts to rest on his back once he releases.

But it’s almost immediately that his tongue is switching out with his finger and your thighs are closing in quick on his head. He circles an arm around, thumb roughly pressing against your sensitive nub as he fucks you with his tongue. The wet muscle is twisting and turning inside you, brushing all around against the best spots that have you choking and crying out praises of his name.

In tandem with his finger, his nose is still bumping harshly bumping your clit and that’s what sends you almost toppling over the edge. Your eyes roll back and as you look up you can’t even see the roof, just waves and waves of hot pleasure spreading over your brain like the way your release is spreading all over his tongue.

toji is lapping up your essence like a dog, sucking and drinking it all in as he ‘cleans’ you up. He nods in satisfaction, and he raises himself to give him space to pull his shirt off.

“want another shot before I fuck the shit outta ya?”

So vulgar. But you nod regardless. Reaching back down, Toji grabs the almost empty bottle and fills his mouth with the rest. His hand grips your cheeks until your lips are slightly parted, then he places his on yours. You can feel the punishing liquid flow into your mouth. Once he’s sure his mouth is empty, he pulls back and waits for you to swallow. Then he shakes.

He’s shaking your head with such a force that would definitely leave you dazzled sober, but your head is absolutely rolling mixed with the alcohol. You whine from the way your vision blurs and you can hear him laugh.

“Don’t be like that, it’ll make it much nicer. C’mon, flip over, lemme show you.”

Your fingers are holding onto the arm of the chair as he bullies the tip of his cock into your entrance. He’s hissing at the way you’re swallowing him up with that cunt of yours, and you’re just trying not to let your brain get too far from your head.

Whatever amount of alcohol he gave was definitely more than a shot, and the way he shook you right after was definitely too much because you can barely register anything else than the stretch of his cock and the way the room is wobbling.

He’s barely halfway in when it really starts to hit you. Your lips are curling into a wry smile as the base of his cock is pressed flat against your ass, and you’re almost completely sure you’re in heaven. Your mouth is open but nothing is coming out, and it’s a smack! on the ass from his heavy hand that’s drawing you back in with a moan. All it takes is you looking back at him with those adorable eyes of yours to turn him right on, and he’s starting to fuck you with a speed that’s causing your brain to lag.

Toji is a big guy(in all aspects) with a lot of energy. And all that energy is going into ruining your cunt at this very moment. His hands are tight against your hips as his come flush with yours over and over, balls smacking against you. Your eyes are shut and you’re practically wailing from the pleasure overload. He’s grunting hard above you, voice deep and gruff all while keeping you in place to take every thrust.

“Move those hips, girl. Fuck—yes. Keep movin’ like that.”

You’re trying your best to keep up with his pace as best as you can; which to be honest isn’t that good. The speed he’s moving is inhumane, but he’s rewarding your efforts by angling his own hips up to help his tip push perfectly against that certain spot deep in you.

Your words have lost all coherence, and you’re just a crying mess of pleas. He’s planted one foot on the ground for leverage, knocking something over that’ll be a pain to clean later, but he doesn’t care. Right now he’s completely focused on you and the stupidly sweet noises you’re making that he’s not sure when he sends a thrust that has you almost toppling off the couch.

Even with the way his mind is all over the place, he’s still quick to pull you back before you get too far. Your breathing is all over the place, your face a fucked mess, but you’re still functioning enough to mutter out a weak-

“p-please don’t stop!”

And who is he to deny you in this moment, hm? But he’s not big on the idea of risking that dumb little head of yours, so he moves his hold to your elbows. He’s holding your entire front weight up without a problem, and picking up his pace again without much of an issue.

And you’re completely crumbling under his hold when he starts to pound into you once again. He's hitting too deep, too hard, too quickly and it's all too much for you. That familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach is spreading all through your body; flowing through your entire being like the blood in your veins.

"t-toji, m'cumming, fuck, fuck, fuck-"

And your entire body is flashing white hot as you cum, trembling under his hold. Your voice is a shrill hoarse cry as his hips slow; grinding against your ass to fuck you to your orgasm's end.

You're losing all energy, barely able to even keep your head up, but Toji is far from done with you.

"You tired?"

But you're quick to shake your head no. It's been months, almost a year since you've gotten even a fraction of what this is. You're not about to pass it up for anything. he mumbles a sultry 'atta girl' before pulling you towards him. Your back is hitting the soaked seat of the couch as he kneels above you. His grip is finding your knees and bringing them down towards your chest, before filling you up with his still-hard length.

"Shit, that fucker lost a treasure. Basically won the damn lottery here."

His words are going straight to your cunt, and your hole is fluttering around him, almost locking him in place as you writhe from the overstimulation.

Toji is pushing a lone finger past your swollen lips, and it's almost instinct the way your tongue flits over it. You're sucking moaning around it, and the way your face contorts as he continues to move in and out of you is making his cock twitch inside you. Each twitch and pulse of the thick vein lining the underside of his cock have you jumping at each slight movement.

But he's nothing but a man, and the weight in his balls is becoming too much to bear. He has no intentions of cumming anywhere that's not inside you, so he dips his head as close to your face as possible.

"Gotta fill this cunt up. Y'er gonna take it all, yeah?"

You're gurgling something unintelligible around his digit, but the way you look up at him is all the confirmation he needs.

hes releasing from your mouth, pushing the wet finger against your clit as your back arches off the chair. He can feel you pulsing around him, and it's a sob full of his name that has him groaning, pressing his forehead flush with yours as he pumps you full of his cum. Each spurt is thicker than the last, and by the time he's done you feel completely full, still plugged up with his softening cock.

When he does eventually pull out, you can barely lift a finger. Your entire body is flushed and sticky, and the reality of what just happened is starting to hit you hard. Toji is getting up and scooping you into his arms to take you to the bathroom.

"Y'er paying to get that shit cleaned, by the way."

"You're the one who got alcohol all over it?"

"Yeah, but it's your cum that's soakin' into those cushions right now, doll."

Toji snickers when he hears you call him an asshole under your breath. He won't be as much of an asshole if he bends you over the bathroom vanity though, right?

[spicy30]

Echoes of a Stolen Fate 1/2

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targ!Reader, Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Targ!Reader (Platonic sibling love)

cw: Blood, Bastardry stigma, infidelity, classism, regionalism (regional bias), curse words

Rating: 16+

tags: AFAB reader, no use of Y/N, angst/no comfort, the reader has anger issues, reader takes issues against bastards, reader does not like the north, reader acts like a princess (discriminates against those who are not like her (gets it from her mom tbh, have you read about Rhaenyra?)), Reader has traditional Targaryen features (Hair and eyes, skin color nor body specified), Dino Dragon is named Acrocanthosaurus because I'm not original, Reader is assumed to be true-born due to traditional Targ features (You can decide whether she is or not)

(Not Proofread)

Indulgence is based on this post. Inspo Dino Dragon is Acrocanthosaurus.

WC: 10.8K

“Are you insane! Do you think you're mighty!?” You limped into Jacaerys’s chambers.

“What are you talking about?” He stood up walking to you. “You should be resting.” He extended his hand out to you. 

“Don’t touch me! You have such a nerve to tell me to rest but you are the sole reason I cannot!” You moved your shoulder back to prevent him from touching. 

“I don’t know what you’re so upset about, but you need to sit down and calm down.” Jacaerys urged you as he tried to coax you to sit down.

 You felt your eye twitch. “I am calm! I am not yelling or hitting you, but the Gods know that I should!” You turn around swiftly and he feels your hair slap him in the face. He closes his eyes and makes a face. He uses his arms to corner you to his bed as he pushes you slightly to sit down. 

“You’re still injured from Vhagar and Aemond.” He speaks as he looks down at your angered face. 

“You don’t think I know that!? I felt it as I walked to your room. You don’t think I’m aware of my own pain!? The dreadful scar that will be left on my leg and the way I cannot lean on my hips lest they become stuck!?” You stand up from the bed as best you can without shaking. “You don���t think I want to rest? I was happily in my bed until a little bird came and told me how pleased they were with ‘my’ choice to marry a northern brute. How brave I was to choose someplace so far from my home.”

Jacaerys breathed out a sigh understanding the reason for your visit and your tone, before backing away from you. “It was necessary. We needed to encourage the North to rally behind us and what better way than to have the Lady of Winterfell be a Targaryen who supports our mother’s claim?” 

You scoffed. “I secured an alliance with Storms End despite the troubles that presented themselves.”

You breathed heavily trying to stop yourself from yelling out in pain and crying as you looked at the lodged tooth in your lower calf, courtesy of Vhagar. You watched Aemond and Vhagar fly back to whatever hell they crawled out of. It was a miracle you survived. Your Acrocanthosaurus was nowhere as big as Vhagar, but he was large, but best of all, agile. It was a feature unique to him and him alone due to the sail-like spin that protruded upwards. It allowed him to move like no other. 

His sense of smell, however, was something else. When he flipped in the air avoiding Vhagar you thanked all the gods you knew, for if Vhagar had snuck up on you and succeeded, you’d be as good as dead. In that instant you were a hundred times glad that you proposed you come in place of Lucerys, only the gods know what would’ve happened. However, no matter how well you rode, you could not evade everything and thus you had Vhagar’s large tooth lodged through your calf. 

Despite this, if you looked on the bright side, Borros Baratheon and his men had seen what happened in the skies, the breaths of fire, the evasion, and best of all, they had seen Aemond fly off with Vhagar pronouncing you the champion. You flew down and landed making sure they could see Vhagar’s tooth lodged in your leg. 

“Is that the man you’ve promised your daughter to?” You yell pointing towards the sky in the direction where Vhagar and Aemond have fled to. “Is that the man you stand for? The man who fled battle knowing full and well I could deliver the Targaryen words for the disrespect you have dealt me and my mother!?” Acrocanthosaurus exhaled steam as he eyed the Baratheons. “The brother of the man you call king!? He was supposed to protect you, protect your daughter!”

Borros inhaled a shaky breath so as not to show fear. All he could do was stand still as you spoke, throwing his mistake in his face. Shaming him in front of all his men. He knew better than anyone what you could do with that dragon of yours. He had just seen it with his own eyes. 

“Him!? You stand with him and that usurper whore of a king!?” You glared at them as blood leaked from your leg on display for everyone to see. Had you not been in such a state of mind, you would’ve found the shame to try and cover up as your attire has been ripped showcasing everything up to your thigh. You saw some of the men close their eyes in shame. 

Good. That was what you needed to drive home the point.

“The ‘protector’ of the seven realms is he?” You inhaled a deep breath before ripping out the tooth. Your blood splattered on Borros and everyone else who stood close enough on their faces and dresses. 

“No. I’m the only protector here. I protect you and your realm by giving you your life.” You toss the tooth at Borros Baratheon’s foot. “Take it, and look long and hard at what I protected you from. Not Aemond, not Aegon, not Alicent, not anyone but me. Use this gift well Borros

Baratheon, for my protection only extends to those who are loyal to the rightful Queen and heir.” You glare down at him. 

“Well? What's your choice, My Lord?” You mocked him. You saw him clenched the large tooth. It was the size of a large dagger just as sharp and serrated. You saw blood coming from his palm. You bit back a smile. “My protection or my house words: Fire and Blood.” 

Finally, Borros bent the knee and so did the rest of the house. You smiled. “Splendid choice my lord. I am glad you have utilized my gift, but let me warn you. Should my Acrocanthosaurus smell deceit from you or anyone else, we will. Snuff. It. Out. Please continue to use my gift wisely, for I think you find it to be invaluable.” With that you took Acrocanthosaurus and flew back to Dragon Stone, successful, pray to tell with a bleeding leg, but successful nonetheless.

“I did it and all without promising you, Lucerys, or Joffrey. What is your excuse? I think mine called for it much more than yours did.” You felt your face twitch. “You promised me to a northern brute without my consent Jacaerys!”

“Cregan is a fine man. He will-” You cut him off. “Oh, mercy me! He’s a fine man now, is he? You’ll have to excuse my lack of manners for I haven’t met the man!” You emphasized as your voice grew louder and angrier. 

“This is for the good of the realm, good for you and mother.” He urged as you looked at him with an exasperated look.

You shook your head at him, backing away from him. “You don’t get to say that. You don’t care about any of that.” You started breathing heavily before you looked at him with a crazed look in your eye. An accusatory look. “You want…” You trailed off as the heavy realization hit you. “ Of course! You want-” 

Jacaerys cut you off. “No, it’s not what you’re thinking, I swear it, I do it for the good of the realm! This is what is best!”

You took in a heavy breath. “No. It is what is best for you!” Your anger-crazed eyes narrowed on to him. “I had set a future, a future I was meant for. I had my life all planned. It's what I was made for.” 

“Your future is still there, the future will always be there.” He walked closer to you as you backed away shaking your head. 

“That’s not true.” You said tears stuck in your throat. 

“Listen to me.” He said slowly. 

“That’s not true.” You repeatedly looked at him with desperate sad eyes.

“Listen to me!” Jacaerys yelled at you while looking at the floor. “Your marriage to Cregan Stark will stabilize the realm and solidify our bonds with the North and the other houses who are their sworn bannermen! Where a Stark goes, the North will follow.” He looked up to you and there you were, a hurt look on your face. He breathed in to keep his resolve. 

“I don’t want to!” You yelled back. 

“We need the North!” He grabbed your wrists so hard that you were sure bruises were to be left. 

“At the cost of my life! It is my life you have taken from me Jacaerys!” You hit your fingers against your chest to express yourself for you fear words are not enough to express the anger, sadness, and utter desperation you feel. “My life is not yours nor for anyone to take from me!” You pulled your wrists from his hands pushing him away. “I am CROWN PRINCESS!” You yell at him with all your might that you’re sure your mother and everyone else inside DragonStone can hear.“I am the next heir to the Iron Throne after Mother! You dare take it from me!?”

“I DID THIS FOR YOU! For the better of the realm and whether you like it or not, It. Is. Done!” He yelled at you before breathing and pushing back his hair. “It is for the good of the realm and nothing more.” He whispered out before walking out of his own chambers slamming the door behind him as you were left in his room to mourn the loss of your life.

…

Cregan Stark stood as preparations were made for your family’s arrival. He was told he had another fortnight to prepare due to an injury you sustained fighting the Queen of Dragons. He could only imagine the woman you were, to hold your own against the Queen of Dragons and make the Baratheons bend the knee to you and your mother after they had sworn fealty to the false king. 

Quite the woman he imagines in his mind. 

He finds himself wondering who will win, the fire that you and your dragon wield, or the cold winds of winter the North gives. In any case, he wouldn’t have to wait much longer to find out.

The North was so far from your homelands and fair springs and summers that you were used to but even then, stories of you spread everywhere. You were, after all, the heir of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and were deemed the realm's delight. One would have to live under a rock to not know who you were. 

The most recent tale of you told of your outspoken nature and its cause to lead the late King Viserys to side with your mother when claims were made of your legitimacy and that of your brothers were questioned. From accusing you and your brothers of being children of Harwin Strong to you being a bastard of Rhaenyra and Daemon. It didn’t make for a compelling case if you changed who the father was mid-argument. 

He was sure you’d fare well in Winterfell, though he wondered if he’d have to build your dragon a pit. He’s worried that your dragon might eat all the livestock the North has with how big he has heard the beast is. 

It wasn’t long before he heard the ringing of bells signaling guests and the only guests he was expecting were you and your family. He walks amongst the commons of Winterfell who were eager to see a family of Dragons. He stood ready to receive them. He saw a total of four dragons, the largest being one see deep red coloring and the longest neck he had ever seen, on a dragon or any other animal. 

All four dragons landed. The green one, Vermax, that one he had seen before, Prince Jacearys’s Dragon. The smallest one belonged to Prince Lucerys, then one with dark yellow coloring belonged to Queen Rhaenyra, and finally, the infamous Blood Wyrm, Caraxes, which belonged to Prince Daemon. 

However, most noticeably you and your dragon were missing. 

Queen Rhaenyra dismounted her dragon bringing down her youngest son with who she was riding with, little Prince Joffrey.  

Cregan bowed as did the rest of Winterfell to their rightful Queen. 

“My niece will be late, her injury holds her back. I’m sure you can understand the circumstances as you’ve heard of her victory, yes?” Daemon was against this marriage, he had heard your reluctance, and truth be told, Daemon would much rather you marry a Targaryen. You are the blood of the dragon. It was best to keep it pure and not sully it with Northern blood. Not to mention you were your mother’s heir, he figured it would be best if you instead married when your mother claimed back the Iron Throne. 

“I am well aware,” Cregan spoke and nodded in understanding. He greeted the rest of the family. By this time all the dragons have flown off to only the gods know where to try and get away from the cold air of the North. 

About to welcome them inside, Cregan heard a loud rumble that vibrated through his body. He looked up to see a large dragon, larger than any your family had. The dragon landed with a loud thud shaking the ground below him. He heard the gasps and awes being him. He stood still unmoving. You landed quite a ways away, but he saw the large beast take a step forward before it increased in speed like he had seen no animal do before. Each step makes the ground quake and consequently he and his men as well. 

It roared loud and angry. Much to Cregan’s dismay, he did step back just a bit as your beast roared. It sent many commons running and children crying. 

On top, he saw you with a pleased smile, glad they knew of the power you wielded. He watched as your dragon reached its claw for you to hold. He swallowed as he watched you unfasten your seat before grabbing onto the claw with such grace as your dragon brought you down with such gentleness it was hard to believe that such a terrifying roar could come from it.  

He watched as you nuzzled against his face, nearly turning your back to Cregan. You gave him one last rub before you turned to Cregan with a confident look as your hand kept rubbing the underside of its jaw. You were making your presence known to him. A commanding one at that, commanding him to submit. If he were a lesser man or any other man at all he would’ve. A woman with a reputation as yours and a grand beast who stood off against the queen of dragons and came out victorious. Yes, now he understands why Borros Baratheon bent the knee to you. Your presence was commanding and strong. 

The presence that belongs to those who are regal. 

Luckily for Cregan Stark, he is not Borros Baratheon or any other man. The North itself is something to fear and Cregan has lived it his whole life, so he does not look away even as your dragon exhales a puff of smoke to him, it burns his eyes but he does not look away from you. It wasn’t until your uncle interrupted.

Your uncle Daemon called out to you and you both broke eye contact at the same time. For now, it was a tie. 

…

You had yet to speak a single word to Cregan and by this time it had already been a week. You bid your time talking to your mother, meeting with Acrocanthosaurus as he warmed you, avoiding your brother, and simply resting. Your leg was still in bad shape, it was painful walking up and down stairs. Walking in the snow only served to exhaust you. 

A knock sounded at the door as you heard a familiar voice call from the other side. Jacaerys, your traitorous little brother. 

“You cannot hope to win over the North if you never speak to any of them.” Jacaerys entered your room. 

You said nothing as you stared at him with no expression. “I am marrying the Warden of the North, if they’re as loyal as they say, it won’t matter if I turn into a damned silent sister. As long as I have the Stark next to me, the North will follow or so you say.” 

Jacearys looked at you as you spit his words to him. “I understand how you feel, but this is what is best. The North is a vital part.” He walked over to you, reaching his hand out as a sign of peace. 

You slapped it away as you glared up at him from your chair. “You cannot possibly claim to know how I feel.” You pushed yourself up from your chair and stood face to face with your brother. “So stop lying! What was best was me as heir, not you or anyone else's! Me!” 

You breathed heavily as you walked close to him until you could feel his breath on your face. “I was born for it. I was not born out of love and you know that. Look at me and then look at you.” Your Valyrian features stared back at his plain ones. “We are not the same, we share a mother, but I am not born of Harwin Strong.” You knew this was crossing a line, to call your own brother a bastard. However, the worst part is you didn’t know if you meant it or not. You just felt so angry. Angry that you were sold like you were worth nothing! As if anyone had a claim to you as if you were some prize, as if you were only good for giving heirs when you were made for the Iron Throne. It was the only reason your father Laenor and your mother had you! You did not lack love, but to know you were not truly born from love like your brothers were, perhaps, it was a need to prove that it was all worth it. 

You being born was worth it. 

So when you watched your little brother clench his jaw and look away so you did not see that your words had hurt him, you had to pull the instinctual hand that reached for him so naturally to comfort him. 

Your little brother who pulled your hair when he was younger, your little brother whom you sang to when he was born, your little brother who you held through stormy nights, your little brother who always wanted to be with you but you sent him away, your little brother who had such a kind heart and always cried when you got hurt. 

To hurt your first little brother felt as if you stabbed yourself and it hurt, it hurt so much. It hurt more than any physical injury ever could. 

When Jacaerys looked back at you and saw the slight redness in your eyes that was forming and your eyes glossed over. It took him by surprise. He had never seen you cry or even be on the verge of it. He had seen you angry, so angry sometimes it scared him when he was younger. He remembers seeing you slap a maid so hard that the bottom of her jaw and to this day looks uneven. Then you sent her to be whipped through the streets and all because you caught a little whisper from her calling him a bastard. He had seen you reckless like the day you protected him, and your brothers by putting your own legitimacy on the line. He had seen you vengeful against Ser Criston Cole, he had seen you in all your moments, and in all the moments you stood tall. 

Jacaerys thought the world of you. 

You were invincible. To him, to everyone, you were someone who could never be broken.

I will always be your older sister, you will never be able to best me.

Those were the words you spoke to him. When you fought him and had him pinned down, those would be the words you would tell him every time without fail. It only served to remind him just how grand you were.

So to see you on the verge of tears because of what he had done to you. He had broken his big sister who was supposed to be invincible, he felt like his legs were going to give out. He wished he could take back what he had done to you. To look at you as you seemed to crack felt wrong. 

He wanted his invincible big sister back. His invincible big sister who would brave anything and everything all in the name of him, for Lucerys, for Joffrey. 

He felt like a boy again crying for you when he saw you get hurt from trying to mount your dragon only to fall. He felt like a boy who cried because he didn’t know why the Queen gave him such mean looks but you were always there to stand in front of him protecting him from the gazes and the whispers. 

At this moment he wanted his big sister to tell him that it was okay and that she forgave him and to tell him that he’s not a bastard, that he's your little brother and you’re his big sister, and that he will never be able to best you. 

He didn’t want to be the reason why you cry, though he knows it should be him comforting you, but he can’t help but yearn for it himself. 

So Jacaerys looks away from you and turns away to walk out. Before he walks out he turns and looks at you with regretful eyes, regret for the misery he has caused you. “For what it's worth, I truly am sorry and I only did what I thought was best.” 

You watched Jacearys walk out and you extended your hand out to him before you retracted it. You covered your mouth as tears leaked from your eyes. A quiet sob escaped your lips as you cried begging for God's forgiveness for calling your little brother a bastard. 

…

Cregan watched as his men spoke in the dining hall and to his right at your family and to his left was your chair which was empty and his half-sister, Sara who sat on your left. Cregan had demanded that everyone wait to begin the feast until you attended. By this time, you were very late, however, he had heard how long it takes you to go down and up the stairs due to your injury. 

 Finally, a couple minutes later the doors of the dining hall opened and there you were in all your glory. A fine gown you wore, a remnant of the southern style. A deep crimson red, with subtle patterned embroidery throughout. The bodice was adorned with a gold chain-like trim along the neckline and waist, which is emphasized by a central brooch at the chest. The dress had a layered look, with an underlayer of shimmering gold fabric visible beneath the crimson outer layer, which features detailed scroll-like patterns.

Your sleeves were long and wide, typical style of southern ladies, with a luxurious golden fabric peeking through. Your sleeves also have lace at the cuffs, adding to the opulence of the gown. A gold necklace with a pendant mirrors the gold accents in the gown. You looked at the very image of a regal aristocratic appearance.

He watched you as you walked slowly to the main table. You moved so slowly yet you had no limp though he could see the slight tense look your face held. Surely you were still in pain and you could show none of it as everyone watched you walk down the aisle towards him. Agonizingly slow you walked around the table to your spot next to him. He heard the slightly heavy breaths and sounds you made as you sat down. 

When you finally sat your mother lifted her chalice in honor of the marriage. “To the union of two great houses.” The men cheered as they each lifted their chalice.

Cregan lifted his chalice and standing he turned to your mother toasting her honor. “To the rightful Queen.” Once more his men cheered and he watched you toast earnestly to your mother. He sat down and watched you from the corner of his eye watching you drink all your wine in one fell swoop. You saw you turn to him afterward and he faced you. 

“I apologize for my tardiness, Lord Stark. Normally I tend to be punctual, however, Winterfell is grand and unknown to me, so I will do my best to be on time for our next banquet.” You spoke to him in a monotone and practiced way.  

“There is nothing to be forgiven for your grace, Winterfell is grand but you will learn your way eventually. I have also been informed of your injury, we take no offense to your delay.” He reassured you and gave him a hum of approval, though it sounded as if you dismissed not caring for his response. For the rest of the night, you didn’t talk to him again, nor did you ever give a smile, not even when Sara attempted to converse with you. 

…

You left before the banquet was over as your calf had begun to sting. Struggling up the stairs you dismissed all your ladies. Stopping and leaning against the wall you sighed. You still had a ways to go. Taking a deep breath you continued forward. 

“Do you want help?” A male voice rang out.

 You turned, it was Jacaerys. You felt a pang in your heart remembering your harsh words to him. He was your brother, despite the fact you were still deeply upset by the whole ordeal, you would never hate your little brother, not for long anyway. Swallowing your pride, you nodded. 

Jacaerys walked up the stairs and then picked up most of your weight off your injured leg. It was quiet as you both walked up the stairs. You spent the time thinking about how you would start your apology. Finally arriving at the door of your chamber, he opened it and sat you down on your bed. You thanked him and he nodded before turning around to leave. 

Jacaerys had originally sought to find you to apologize but he found that he wasn’t brave enough to. Not because he wasn’t sorry, but because he didn’t know what he would do if you didn’t forgive him. He saw the look you gave him. You were outraged with him and it had been a fortnight since the day you stormed into his room. To see that anger directed at him, he didn’t know if you would have mercy on him. He had never known you to be merciful to those who enraged you. 

Jacaerys doesn’t think he could bear it if his big sister refused to forgive him. He couldn’t bear that rejection, so he figured it would be best that he not even try. If he does not try, then he cannot be rejected. 

As he turned to leave he felt your hand grasp his. He turned and looked at you as you looked at him with those same glossy eyes from before. 

“Jacaerys wait.” You told him. Your voice was fragile and meek. A tone he had never heard before. It made his hand tremble just a bit.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered out before you began crying. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it! I swear! I would never presume you to be what I called you.” You cried harder as Jacaerys stood still watching you cry. You gripped his hand tightly. “I was just…” Your voice cracked as you spoke to him. “You cannot begin to understand how I felt when you told me I was being married off. I felt like a mare being sold off to be bred. I felt as if I was being stripped of my worth! My worth as a person because the gods know that we women have been deemed to have little worth other than our wombs!” You hugged his waist and cried begging for his forgiveness. 

Squeezing your hand in his he fell to his knees cradling your face and shaking his head. The shame he felt making you cry and beg for his forgiveness was unbearable. Jacaerys has always thought the world of you and he will always think the world of you. Your image could never be destroyed by him. 

“You are the wrong sister! There is nothing to be forgiven for! It is I who should be begging for your forgiveness.” He spoke with desperation as he wiped the tears from your eyes. “I have sent you to a life that was not meant for you. I am sorry, I am sorry for making you cry! I never intended it, I would never hurt you. I can take it back, here and now, I can march in the banquet and call off the wedding!” He hugged your waist as his face was in your skirts begging for your forgiveness. “If I had known this marriage would bring you to tears I would’ve never even suggested it to Lord Stark!”

“Sweet brother,” You called and he lifted his head up to you. In you, he saw his caring older sister, and despite your disheveled look and a flushed face from crying, you sat there holding his face, his sister who always took care of him. He had felt himself shrink back into the young boy who always sought out his sister. He felt your hand brush his curls back and he leaned into your touch. 

“I do not cry because of what you did.” He furrowed his brows in confusion as you gave him a soft smile. “I cry because of the pain I caused you. You mean the world to me Jacaerys. You, Lucerys, Joffrey, and mother. You all mean the world to me and I would burn King’s Landing down and the rest of the world then see any of you hurt.” He held your hand and cradled it against his face as you smiled. “I cry because I was the reason you were hurt. The awful things I said to you, they should’ve never even entered my mind, and for that little brother, I will spend the rest of my days repenting.” 

“I thought it was because of what I did…” He trailed off relishing the feeling of his sister’s comforting hand against his face. 

“Silly boy, I am your older sister and you will never beat me, you will never make me cry for something you did. I shed tears for you because I love you.” You smile at your little brother as your other hand comes up to cradle his face. You feel the incoming facial hair and you feel a surge of that well-known sadness in your heart at how big your little brother has grown. “I will always love you and Joffrey, mother and Lucerys. It is all I live for. The moments I share your laughter are all I can ask for in this life. No throne is worth having you think I hate you. I will never hate you or our brothers.”  

“I can still march down there and call off the wedding.” Jacearys offered while looking up at you. He watched you shake your head. 

“I would sooner see myself impaled than bring shame to you or our family. Despite my unwillingness, I will not disgrace you. Even if the Stark came and said he didn’t want to marry me. I would have Acrocanthosaurus bring him to me.” You jested smiling down at him. 

“Such a long name you have given your dragon.” Jacaerys teases while staying in your hold. 

“I think it is a proper name, it suits him. High-spined lizard is what his name means.” You grin at him as Jacaerys flutters his eyes closed and smiles and at that moment you wish for all time to stop, to let you and your brother remain in this moment forever.

…

Cregan was neither stupid nor blind. He knew you did not want this marriage. It wasn’t as if you didn’t try to hide it. Sending all the ladies from noble Northern houses away who were delighted at the possibility of being part of your ladies-in-waiting. You had not sought him in the week you had been here for the possibility of getting to know him. It became increasingly clear that this marriage to you was nothing more than an annoyance. You didn’t have to say it, but Southerners had such a way with words and body language that always communicated the message clearly. 

You were not here by choice. 

Cregan was not someone who would force someone into something they did not want, his allegiance would still be there, this marriage was simply a courtesy that he had accepted from Prince Jacaerys. It worked out well for Cregan, he would get the elders to stop pressuring him about marriage and an heir while strengthening his bonds with the South. Your dragon was an extra welcome for what lay beyond the wall. However, if you objected to this marriage, he would not push, after all, Arra Norrey was still a candidate for him to marry. He’d rather have someone willing and someone he knew and loved than someone who didn’t even seem to like the North. 

So after the banquet was over Cregan set out to your chambers intent on talking to you. He walked and opened the door only to see you and your brother. Your hands were on either side of his face as you whispered to him that you loved him and that you would always love him, while Jacaerys learned into your touch. 

When you both noticed his presence Jacaerys quickly stood up while you stayed seated on your bed.  “Lord Stark.” Both you and Jacearys spoke in unison. Cregan had known it was common practice to marry brother and sister within the Targaryen family. Then it suddenly became clear to him, perhaps, that you did not want to marry him because you were in love with your brother and wished to marry him. Though if that were the case then why would Jacaerys offer you to him, perhaps he did not know and you decided to confess on the night before your wedding.  

“I did not know you were coming, my ladies did not inform me.” You spoke with a cool tone as if he didn’t catch you confessing to your brother. 

“I did not inform anyone your ladies are not at fault,” Cregan responded in his tone, taking on his usual firmness that until now, he didn’t have. He didn’t know why he spoke to you like that, you didn’t mean anything to him and he had hardly spoken to you. What he caught between you and your brother shouldn’t mean anything to him, but you were to his bride and his lady, perhaps it was his image he was worried about.

“Why have you come to see my sister, Lord Stark?” Jacaerys spoke, annoyed that Cregan had spoiled the moment between him and his older sister. 

“I had come to speak to her of private matters that I have noticed as of late,” Cregan looked at the both of you with a practiced face. 

You nod and look towards Jacaerys. You smiled at him before he nodded and left. 

“My Lord, apologies, my brother and I, we share a bond that of late had suffered hardships, I wished to reconcile with him before our wedding tomorrow.” You explained as you offered him a seat which he declined. 

“No matter your grace, if you do not wish to break the bond you and your brother have, I will not take offense to it. I know it is your family’s custom to marry siblings and if I will not force you into a marriage that is not of your own accord.” Cregan told you. He watched you furrow your brows. In truth, he did wish for you not to marry him, his heart lay with another but it would be an insult to his pride, and a man no matter how honorable, will always have pride.

“Excuse you?” You looked at him offended. “Marry my brother? What brought about the notion that I should want to marry my brother?” You narrowed your eyes at him. You found it disgusting that he would twist your innocent relationship with Jacaerys into something else. 

“If you want an excuse to not marry me, be a man and tell it as it is.” You limped forward glaring at him. “But don’t ever presume to twist the love I have for my brother as an excuse.”

“What else am I supposed to make of it when I find you and your brother in such a way? Your refusal of all Northern traditions. It is well accepted that siblings within the Targaryens marry.” He retorted, matching your fierce tone. 

“You insult the relationship my brother and I share!? Why you-!” You gasped in disbelief while Cregan looked at you coldly. “You Northern brutes! Your hearts are so frozen that you cannot even distinguish sibling love from that of lovers!” You insult him.

“A Northern brute is it?” He scoffs at you. “Then perhaps, you shouldn’t marry these Northern brutes and go back home to your fair springs and summers you’ve known all your life.” He retorted looking down at you. Despite the obvious size disparity, you did not back down and instead walked forward so your chest was against his, or it would’ve been, yours only reaching just under his. He stared in disbelief at your actions.

“I don’t want to marry you! I never did! I am the Crown Princess, why would I ever agree to marry you?” You raised your voice slightly at him.

“Good. I would rather have a wife who would at least try to make something of this-” Cregan fought the urge to make a face at the hand you shoved in his face, cutting him off.

“But…It has already been agreed that I will marry you. Whether you like it or not, you and I will be husband and wife tomorrow.” You poked his chest every time you spoke to him. “Should you refuse me and stay within these pretty walls…” You trailed your fingers up his chest up to his neck and wrapped your arm around him bringing him down a little. “I will have Acrocanthosaurus tear down these grand walls that your ancestor built and drag you out by your,” You played with the hem of the fur on his cloak. “Cloak.” You let go while Cregan stood trying to understand what just happened. 

“Now get out! I would rather not be angry on the day of my wedding and your presence and the impiety you spoke of between me and my brother only serves to infuriate me.” You pushed him back as hard as you could only to see him step back slightly as he looked down at you with a look you couldn’t quite describe. Pushing him a couple more times you close the door on him as you limp back to your bed. 

Outside your door, Cregan stood confused. Words you spoke had no sense in them. First, you confessed that you wanted nothing to do with him and you didn’t want this marriage and the next you threatened that if he rejected you, you would drag him out using your dragon. A vexing woman you were. 

…

The next morning went by faster than Cregan would’ve liked it to—the day of his wedding to you. Your exchange last night left him quite unsure of your nature. He tried not to think about you too much, not about your touch to his chest, or your arm around him, not your sweet wine-scented breath on the side of his face that made his hair stand on end, and certainly not your chest against his. Your words that were meant as a threat ignited something within that he would rather not admit. A woman like you, a woman with a sharp tongue as yours, he had never had the pleasure of meeting, you were his first. 

However, he felt a guilt pool in his gut as he thought of Arra Norrey. She will be in attendance today. He had always felt that she would be the one he would marry. His heart belonged to her but he thought of you. A damned woman you were, never had he thought about you, not the day Jacaerys had promised you to him, not the day you arrived in Winterfell in all your glory, not a single day until last night. 

All night he stayed up thinking of what you told him, thinking of your Valyrian features instead of the brown hair and brown eyes of Arra. Though the guilt seeped into him, it did not stop him from thinking of you. He briefly entertained the idea of rejecting you to see if you were true to your word. If you would force him to marry you, if you would really tear down the walls of Winterfell to get to him. He later decided that it would be best to not test that theory. Regardless of when to shift his thoughts to Arra instead of you the contrasts of your personality would come to his mind. 

Finally having enough of thinking of you he went to Weirwood tree to think, the very place where the two of you would be married. He sat on the bench as he wore his wedding attire simply looking at his reflection in the blackness of the water. He didn’t know how long he stared until a figure appeared in the pond next to him. He turned swiftly to see the person he was dreading looking in the eye. Arra Norrey, the woman he thought he was going to marry, and he, the man she thought she was going to marry. 

“I thought I’d find you here.” She spoke softly like she always did. Despite being of the North, Arra did not have the characteristics of a Northern woman, she was not hardened by the ice nor cold winds of winter. “I wanted to speak to you one more time before you became a married man, to the Crown Princess nonetheless, to the realm’s delight I heard she was deemed, like her mother. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her.” 

“It has been no pleasure.” It slipped out of his mouth before could register what he said. He heard Arra laugh beside him. He had forgotten how relaxed he would feel next to her. He wondered if he would ever feel that relaxed with you. He doubted it with your sharp tongue, if anything it would have to be him to keep you in line. 

He sighed and cursed himself for thinking of you while he had Arra right next to him. 

“She is the blood of the dragon and you have the winds of winter flowing through your veins. I wouldn’t expect it to be for the both of you to get along well.” Arra offered though Cregan found himself with a little thorn of annoyance at her comment. 

“Is she as beautiful as they say? As they say, all  Targeryens are?” She asks leaning forward while leaning on her arm. 

“She is the blood of old Valryia and she holds true to their features. Their hair, white as snow, and their eyes purple as lavender. It makes for quite a face to look at.” He admits to her as he looks at her through the reflection of the pond. 

“Has she agreed to give up the Crown for you and the North?” She asked, turning to him and looking at the side of his face, admiring him. 

“She still refers to herself as the Crown Princess, I don’t think she plans on abandoning her ambition for a throne that is rightfully hers.” He speaks to Arra and turns to face her only to find her closer to his face than he expected. His eyes drift down to her lips and then back up to her face. A face he had grown up with, a face that grew more beautiful with each passing day. 

“Cregan…” Arra spoke in a soft tone. “She will never just be the lady of Winterfell as one needs your wife to do.” She spoke softer as Cregan crept closer to her. 

He watched her lean forward, he found himself doing the same and under the Weirwood tree, Cregan kissed the woman who was supposed to be his wife. Years of yearning surfaced and soon it became desperate with her clawing at his cloaks as he held her tight against him. She broke away from him to breathe. He watched her eyes widen in fear. She backed away from him and watched her nearly fall back before he caught her. 

“Arra?” He questioned before she saw her point behind him in fear. “Dra-” She didn’t even finish the sentence before Cregan felt a heat on his back and black smoke spreading around him. Turning he saw your dragon, Acrocanthosaurus you called him. The large beast crept forward, eyes green and angry. It gave a loud roar and he heard Arra scream from under him. Cregan saw its tail coming fast, he ducked and told Arra to run. 

He watched her go while he stood in front of the great beast who looked as angry as ever. He could only stand and yell at it to stop in an attempt to get it to stop and focus on him instead of the direction Arra had run to. 

Your dragon bared its teeth itching closer. This beast was loyal to you and intelligent, it had probably seen what happened under the Weirwood tree, the same Weirwood tree that he was set to marry you in only a couple of hours. 

“Kelītīs!” (Stop) You yelled and Acrocanthosaurus did but not before blowing hot black smoke in his face ruining his clothes as black soot covered him. 

“Jikagon” (Go) You murmured as you kissed his snout. Growling Acrocanthosaurus left you and Cregan alone while his men and your ladies stood back. You glared at him as you took off your coat to wipe the soot off his face. 

“What did you do?” You questioned him. 

“What was your dragon doing in the Weirwood forest? He would have burnt it down.” He retorted, avoiding your question. 

“I asked first.” You countered as you finished rubbing the soot off of his face going down to start on his clothes. He stopped you as he stood up. 

“Keep him out of these woods,” Cregan ordered you and you felt yourself clenched your jaw. 

“You cannot command a dragon. Dragons do whatever they want, eat whatever they want, whenever they want.” You stood tall as he gave you his back.

 He turned to face you over his shoulder before telling you once more to keep him out of the woods before he walked off. So much for going to the weirwood forest to get his mind off of you. 

You narrowed your eyes at him and your ladies ruched to you. You told them to go away as you limped deeper into the weirwood calling Acrocanthosaurus back. He landed hard and loud and you knew Cregan felt it. Satisfied, Acrocanthosaurus reached his claw to you and you climbed on for him to bring you up to his saddle. Fastening yourself you flew off. 

Cregan turned and watched as you rode off on your beast. 

…

The people sat in the seats provided in the weirwood forest anxious. They had heard of the quarrel between future spouses and how you flew off on your dragon. They feared the worst. That you would never return. Your mother had sent Daemon, Lucerys, and Jacaerys to look for you. All three came back without news, though Rhaenyra doubts Daemon tried hard to find you. 

All the guests sat uncomfortably while Cregan stood in the front waiting for his bride-to-be though his eyes kept drifting to Arra. Each time his eyes would wander, he would find her eyes already on him. Every time he looked at her, their kiss flashed before his eyes. Their kiss under the weirwood tree made it sacred. Yet despite that here he stood alone preparing to marry someone else. 

As he stared at Arra longer the more his patience thinned for you. If you didn’t show then why marry you when he could marry Arra, someone who wouldn’t leave him here looking like an idiot. He gave a frustrated sigh and was prepared to walk off, however, as he sighed he felt a familiar rumble. 

He watched your dragon land with a heavy thud with you on top. He watched as you held on to the claw your dragon offered you and watched you land and stand towards the end of the aisle. Jacaerys quickly gets up walking to you before offering his hand as if you weren’t late to your own wedding. 

Cregan watches Jacearys whisper something but you don't seem to respond. His eyes look behind you focusing on Arra who seems to have her eyes on you. He watched Arra stare at you as you walked down the aisle.  

The maester stopped before them as the ceremony began snapping Cregan’s attention back to you and your brother. 

“Who comes before the old gods tonight?” The maester asked.

Jacaerys spoke your name and all the titles you had won. “Has come to be wed. A woman, grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the gods.” 

He watched your eyes flicker towards your brother at the words.

“Who comes to claim her?” Your brother finished. 

Cregan stepped forward. “Cregan, of House Stark. Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell.” As he spoke those words he caught sight of Arra shifting in her seat uncomfortably. “Who gives her?” Cregan's eyes shifted towards your brother away from Arra. 

“Jacaerys of House Velaryon, her brother.” He responds in kind now waiting for the Maester’s next words.

“Your Grace, do you take this man?” The Maester asked, looking at you.

He watched you as you looked at him with an expression he couldn’t read. He saw all the eyes focusing on you, the unamused look of your uncle Daemon, the expectant look on your mother’s face, but the only look that he could pay attention to was the hurt expression on Arra’s face, almost begging for you to say no.

You stepped forward to Cregan. “I take this man.” Just like that, Cregan’s and your life was changed irreversibly. He would never marry the woman he first kissed under the weirwood tree and you now became the lady of the steadfast that lay over four hundred leagues away. 

He heard the claps that erupted from the crowd. He looked into the crowd and only looked down at you when he saw you come closer to him, your cold hands landed on either side of his face. He felt the slight pull from your hands and he obliged, leaning down and looking at you and your features, the features he had spent all last night thinking of. He closed his eyes expecting to feel your kiss. 

He did feel your kiss, just not where he expected, instead, he felt it on the side of his mouth. Your lips were cold but soft. He felt disappointed that you didn’t kiss him, but when he opened his eyes, he couldn’t find it in himself to remain that way for long. 

Your face was flushed, pink on your face becoming more prominent. Your face was ever pleasing to the eye, and now that it was flushed, you didn’t look him in the eye and had a shy expression on, Cregan doesn’t think anyone else could ever compare, he couldn’t think of anyone that even came close. No one or nothing was in his mind other than you. You were irresistible in that moment and for the first time since the ceremony started, Cregan only had eyes for you.

He went to reach his hands out to give you a proper kiss. He could barely contain the excitement that if this was your face with a slight innocent kiss, how would you look when he gave you a real kiss? 

Before he had the chance to find out however you turned away from him. You gave the crowd an embarrassed smile and Cregan could not find the will to look away from you.

…

As you turned away from Cregan trying your best to push away the unwanted blush on your face, you looked at Acrocanthosaurus who didn’t exactly look pleased. During the flight you had felt his anger, not anger at anything, but for you. Acrocanthosaurus was incredibly perceptive and very intelligent as all dragons are, so when you felt the anger, you knew Cregan had done something to elicit the reaction from him, however, you didn’t know what Cregan did or how serious it was. Acrocanthosaurus already didn���t like him due to your initial feelings about the whole ordeal of marrying him, but Acrocanthosaurus had a bit of temper making his anger towards Cregan a bit unreliable. 

However, now as you stand facing everyone you look toward where Acrocanthosaurus had his gaze narrowed on the left side of the crowd. You drew your eyes and in the crowd sat a familiar woman. A woman with Northen features, plain features. You stared at her and her family. They bore the sigil of a Northern house that you had never seen before, pray to tell, you didn’t put much effort into memorizing them but it was clear this woman had something to do with why Acrocanthosaurus nearly spit fire at the Warden of the North. 

You drew your gaze from the woman who looked oddly familiar, in any case, there was no reason for you to look at her when she was so clearly not paying any attention to you, instead, she looked next to you. Ignoring her you looked towards your mother who gave you a nod of approval. You could only find it in you to give a courteous smile back all while your Uncle Daemon gave you a knowing look. You knew he would much rather you be married off to another Targaryen, he knew full and well you did not want this marriage and when he could, he tried to persuade your mother against having you marry Cregan Stark, though all in vain as you now stood here, the newest Lady of Winterfell. 

After some time the party made its way inside the walls of Winterfell. Throughout the night you had seen Cregan tap his food more than you’d seen anyone tap their foot in your life. You wondered if that was simply a habit he had, though in your opinion it was unbecoming of a lord like him, or if he was simply an impatient man. 

The Northern lords had come to introduce themselves to their new lady. You sat still with a plain smile on your mouth. Finally, the woman who Acrocanthosaurus had been glaring at came up with her family. You noticed her eyes only really sat on Cregan only ever briefly looking at you. They must’ve known each other as they looked at each other with familiar friendliness. 

“My Lady…” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the title. As far as you were concerned you were still very much Crown Princess. You still wanted to rule, it’s what you were made for, and you’ll be damned before any marriage to a Stark or any other lord would take that title away from you. You got lost in your thoughts not really registering whatever courtesies they were saying. “House Norrey is glad to welcome you. Our daughter, Arra Norrey, would be pleased to be a lady in waiting.” Your ears focused when they mentioned the house name. 

‘Norrey…Norrey?’ You had heard that name before, someone had told you that name before.

“I must warn you, in marrying my brother, he might be a little closed off to you, for you were not the person that was intended for marriage. House Norrey and their daughter, Arra Norrey, were very close to the Starks and they have grown up together and both intended to marry each other when they were younger. But do not fret your grace! My brother is ever dutiful and is the embodiment of honor itself. He will fulfill his duty as best he can and over time you will see he will grow to care for you and as you will.” Sara Snow, the bastard of the late Lord Rickon Stark, spoke to you in hushed tones. 

Your eye twitched at her blabbering. You honestly wanted nothing to just tell her to shut up and that you could care less about Cregan’s childhood sweetheart. If anything it made Cregan less appealing in your eyes than he already was. You already felt insulted that a bastard was seated next to you, more so that she had the nerve to talk to you as if you were friends or worse, sisters. Having enough of the bastard's words you gave her a curt smile and excused yourself from the banquet. 

‘Norrey.’ That's right that blabbering bastard girl had told you about them. Childhood friends who thought they were going to marry…. ‘Oh.’ The thought echoed in your head and suddenly your plain smile became a forced one as you struggled to keep your composure as you felt your anger spike. The woman, Arra, looked at you and finally, you realized what happened, she was the woman who had yelled that your dragon was going to burn Cregan, she had been in the Gods Wood with him…alone. That whore and the man who you now called husband had done something they weren’t supposed to be doing in the very place you married him, that's why Acrocanthosaurus acted the way he did. He had seen. That's also why Cregan avoided your question.

Everything started to click in your mind and the more it did the more you had to suppress the anger that threatened to spill. 

“My lady, you look radiant,” Arra spoke to you. You felt your eye start itching, a sign it would start twitching. 

“Yes, as are all Targaryens.” You didn’t bother thanking her for the compliment. “Lady Arra is it?” You questioned her as she smiled brightly at you. 

‘Bitch.’ The word echoed in your mind. 

“I am. I am honored you recognized me.” She spoke. You noticed while she kept her eyes on you, her attention was not. Instead, it was on the man next to you. 

“How could I not? You are the only reason why I have my Lord husband next to me. I thank you for calling attention to me.” That seemed to get her attention, but it wasn’t her attention you wanted. What you wanted was to insult every part of her being and have her publicly shamed. Have her naked and whipped through the streets. If she was so eager to open her legs to your Lord Husband, it didn’t matter who saw what was underneath her cheap Northern dress.

“Your father told me you want to be my lady-in-waiting?” You looked her up and down and smiled watching her smile in turn. Surely she wanted nothing more than to be back in Winterfell.

“I’m sure I will need more in due time.” You leaned over and grabbed your husband’s hand holding it close to your stomach as you leaned into him. You didn’t bother to acknowledge Cregan’s reaction. Normally if this were the South you wouldn't be so bold, but you're sure she didn’t pick up your distaste for her. Northern women were so utterly dense. “With the many children Cregan and I will have, it will be such a handful, and having you there to help me take care of the future heirs of Winterfell born between Cregan and I, would bring me the most joy.” You watched her smile fall before quickly replacing it with a smile. 

‘Idiot.’ You rolled your eyes internally at her reaction. Southern ladies of the court would never let their faces fall not even for a second, she wouldn’t last a day in court.

For the rest of the night, you kept Cregan’s hand in your own hands only offering fake smiles to him but never speaking a word to him or anyone else. 

Finally, it was time for the bedding ceremony. You stood up trembling, your leg and hip were stiff from sitting too long. Cregan helped you up, you thanked him before walking slowly trying to avoid limping. The men cheered and rallied around you and Cregan. You knew it was a part of tradition but to have these people see you, people you deemed as common seeing your bare body, it made you disgusted. Their grimy eyes watching you, the Northerners, truly beastly savages, no different than wildlings in your eyes. 

Looking at the ways you had to go you sighed as you took the first step up the stairs. It hurt. Once more you took another, then one more before you had to stop to let your leg rest. You felt a pair of strong arms grab and lift you. It took everything you had not to scream, not only because you had no idea who grabbed you, but also because it hurt, they had pushed your legs together and consequently your calves together having them rub against one another. 

Vhagar’s tooth went completely through your calf and Maesters told you that it was probable that you would never walk normally again.

Cregan apologized for the pain he caused you. He had heard your small yelp when he lifted you. Before continuing upstairs he turned and told his men off, that the bedding ceremony should only require a maester and a witness. His men walked away leaving only your mother, your uncle, and the Maester of Winterfell. 

Entering the wedding chambers built specifically for bedding ceremonies, he set you down while your mother, uncle, and Maester went behind a wall to watch. You looked over to where your witnesses would be watching from and breathed in a deep breath before looking away and began to undo your wedding gown as Cregan began to undress himself. 

This was less than ideal for him, he’d rather have you without watching eyes, but the North’s very foundation lay on tradition. 

He stood bare in front of you yet you did not look at him or at least at the parts he wanted you to see, instead focused on his face as you undid the back of your dress. He walked behind you helping you with the laces until your dress fell off you. He took in the sight of your body and began rubbing the sides of your arms while kissing your shoulders taking in your scent. He heard you take in a heavy breath before you turned to face him. He reached for your face as he bent down intent on finally claiming your lips as his. 

He fought off a surprise look when you avoided it and instead kissed his cheek. “I’d rather not share something so intimate.” Though your words had other meanings he didn’t know that. He nodded and gently pushed down to the bed as he crawled over you.

…

Behind the wall, Rhaenyra stood as she compared her first time or any of the times she had with her lovers with what she was seeing. It lacked all the passion she had for her first time, and for the first time, she began doubting her decision to endorse this marriage. She felt Daemons’s eyes on her. She looked up at him, the guilt starting to pool in her stomach. He looked at her with a look that told her ‘I told you this was a mistake.’ She sighed before making her way out. The first penetration had already been made and there was no reason to stay any longer. So as she left, Daemon and the Maester followed out behind her. 

…

Hours after your first time together Cregan lay awake as he watched you face the wall, your back to him. He was confident the eyes behind the wall had left. He reached for you brushing your hair off your back. You turned to him, his marks already taking form on your collarbone and your breasts. 

He reached for your face once more and you stayed still making him lean in. “I’d rather not share something so intimate.” You repeated your words to him. 

“There is no one here but you and I, I swear it.” Cregan inched closer to you looking deep into your eyes. “May I?” He asked caressing his thumb against your bottom lip. He watched as your lips moved to tell him the answer.

“No.”

Notes: I got lazy towards the end, sorry.

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