#tatter smut

[mikaleialt]

BMV pt2 but with tatter exited to try the same experience in her car?????🧐🧐🧐🧐

OhMami| BMW Tatter Ver.

Kim Taeyoung (Tatter) x Reader

Synopsis: Still traumatised from what she heard over the phone, Tatter decided to down beer after beer to drown out that nasty memory, that's when you decided that she had enough and take her home. But it looks like your trip goes to another route.

Cw: smut,suggestive. Minors do not interact!! Also switch!Tatter because I know that she is.

A/n: the character of "Y/n" here is a different Y/n from the Bada version. Incase someone get it mixed up.

Read BMW here!

The party is now lively as ever as everyone is finally here, but one person seem to be way to busy enough with their own thoughts to enjoy the party.

Tatter sat at the back, next to the empty bottles of beer which used to be full until she drank it all alone. She tried to forget what she heard over the phone.

The moans of here two best friends rang on her head as she downs another glass of beer.

"Fucking hell" she muttered as the alcohol is getting in her system, her head is already spinning and the flashing RGB lights of the party isn't helping her situation either.

"HEY TATTER, COME JOIN US!" Lusher shout over the blaring music, but it is clear that the blonde girl is already way out of it to even comprehend what's happening.

Nevertheless, Tatter reluctantly got up from her seat, still holding onto her glass as she staggers on her feet. Lusher and Minah help the obviously drunk girl—not that the two girls are also drunk— make their way to the dance floor.

All three of them started swaying their hips to the beat of the music, as they continue to drink. Shouts and cheers filled the whole room as people get more wasted on the dance floor.

Soon enough, Tatter was already out of it. She is finally wasted that she wasn't even aware of what she is doing as she puts her arm over a stranger's shoulder.

Well, not totally a stranger, as the party is only exclusive to students and choreographers from JustJerk, she's just too drunk to recognize the person she's grinding her ass with.

Not until she heard the stranger speak.

"jesus Tatter you're already drunk" the stranger said "how about you go and take a break from drinking first, don't wanna get you wasted, there's still classes tomorrow" she recognized that voice, it was none other than her long time crush, Y/n.

Everyone in Bebe knew how head over heels Tatter is for Y/n. The poor girl couldn't even talk straight if Y/n becomes the topic of the conversation, let alone when talking to the choreographer.

Even Y/n is aware of the fact that Tatter gets shy around her. That's why she is surprised to see the Tatter in front of her now.

She is so different from the Tatter she used to see, the Tatter she is seeing right now is practically grinding her body against her, swaying her hips in the most seductive way as Tatter stares at her eyes with a hint of lust.

"I don't wanna take a break, don't you wanna dance with me anymore?" The drunk girl pouts as she leans her body against Y/n.

Y/n's breath hitches as she feel the warmth of the girl's body, she is still trying to take grasp of the situation. Still surprised at the boldness of the usual shy girl in her classes.

"No, no more drinking for you, you already had enough" Y/n said as she took away the drink from the other girl's hand. "Aww you're no fun" Tatter once again pouts.

"You're wasted already, you need to sto—" before Y/n could even finish her sentence, she was cut off by Tatter's lips crashing against her.

"Fuck" Y/n mutters as she deepens the kiss. She can still taste the bitterness of the alcohol from the blonde girl's mouth as the kiss turns into a full blown makeout.

Thankfully, everyone around them are already way too drunk to even notice the two devouring each other's faces off.

"Let’s get out here" Y/n pulled the girl away from the dance floor and into the parking lot. As they reached her car, she couldn't wait already and pushed Tatter against the hood of the car, pressing their body close as their lips clash against each other.

Good thing that it was dark outside, the streets and parking lot are empty, just the two women making out.

"Get in back of the fucking car now" Y/n broke away from the kiss, telling this to Tatter, that came out almost like a whisper. To which Tatter excitedly obeyed.

Hoping on the back of the car, feeling giddy as the effects of the alcohol still clouding her vision and thoughts, as she waited for the other girl to join her at the back of the car. Tatter was ready for Y/n.

But to her dismay, the girl went to the driver's seat and started the car before driving off. The drive was quiet, nothing but the faint music from the radio can be heard.

Tatter's vision is still hazy as she watches the car passed by the streetlights of the empty highway, until she decided to shift her gaze to the rear-view mirror, finally noticing Y/n's gaze is also on her.

Tatter smirks as they both made eye contact through the reflection. That is when an idea pops up in the drunk girl's mind.

Coincidentally, the song Oh Mami by Chase Atlantic and Maggie Lindemann started playing faintly on the radio.

Tatter started swaying to the beat, Y/n noticing this immediately turns up the volume, letting the blonde girl enjoy herself at the back of her car.

Oh Mami! This a new 'Rari

Hit 150 on the dash, I bent the corner

Then she bent it for me sideways, uh

I might have to fuck her on the highway

The drunk girl continued to sing out the lyrics, vibing to song, emphasizing the lyrics "fuck on the highway" as she looks at the rear-view mirror again, but Y/n's eyes is just focused on the road, which made the girl frown a bit.

But then, the instrumentals started playing, hinting that Maggie's part is coming up. Tatter scoots herself closer to Y/n, so close that the girl behind the wheel can feel her breath against her neck as Tatter presses her lips on the the girl's ear.

"Bend me over slowly 'cause Mommy, I know how you like it..." Tatter intentionally changing the lyrics as she whispers it to the girl behind the wheels.

Tatter noticed how the girl's hand clenches the wheel tighter as she sang her made-up lyrics to Y/n. She knew the effect she has on the other girl and this made her even more curious as to how much can she push Y/n's buttons before she finally gives in.

"Backseat of the 'Rari, pullin' over just to ride it..." Tatter sang out loud hinting what she wants the girl to do. To pull over and take her already. As she sway her hips, grinding on the backseat, catching Y/n's attention.

Tatter continues to dance, her hands roams her own body, feeling herself. But she stops, almost losing her balance as the car took a sharp turn and finally stops at the side of the empty highway.

Y/n immediately unbuckles her seatbelt and moves to the backseat. Without saying anything, she pulls Tatter into a kiss. Her hands is on the back of the drunk girl's head, slightly tugging at her hair, making the girl moan into the kiss whilst her other hand is laying on the girl's lap, carresing it.

While Y/n plans to make Tatter lay down on the backseat, the blonde girl has another idea in mind as she climbs on top of Y/n's lap, grinding herself on it.

"You just can't wait do you?" Y/n mutters against the kiss which Tatter responds with only a moan as she pulls the girl closer.

Y/n breaks off the kiss as she starts trailing down kisses on Tatter's jaw and neck, leaving red marks all over the girl, resulting in Tatter moaning loudly.

Tatter's hands found themselves wrapped around Y/n's neck, occasionally roaming her shoulders, holding on for dear her life as she loses herself from the pleasure she's receiving from the girl.

The blonde girl squirms at Y/n's touch as the girl's hands bunches up the hem of her dress to her waist, revealing the lacey underwear she's wearing underneath it. Y/n didn't waste her time and started playing with the girl's clit, pressing and rubbing on it as she feels wetness pools through the fabric.

"Look at you, I'm just getting started and yet you're already so wet for me" Y/n spoke to Tatter's ear in a whisper as Tatter began to grind herself once more on the Y/n's hands, chasing the pleasure she's yearning for.

The lacey fabric was soon discarded away somewhere in the car, as Y/n's fingers starts to thrust inside Tatter's sopping cunt.

"Fuck, you're fingers a-ah..." Tatter tried to moan out as she get stimulated from the girl's ministrations.

"What, you're moaning already like a bitch from just two fingers? How about I add more?" And just like that, Y/n added a third making Tatter scream in pleasure. Tatter started bouncing on Y/n's hands chasing her high as Y/n felt the blonde girl's walls tremble.

"I'm gonna— wait–ah" the drunk girl moans as her legs trembles, Y/n's fingers started moving faster.

"Yeah, want you to come on my fingers like the good girl you are." With her free hand, Y/n pulls in Tatter for another kiss, as the girl finally releases on her hands.

Slowly Y/n pulls out her fingers, before shoving it in Tatter's mouth. The blonde girl wasted no time sucking on her fingers, cleaning it from her cum , licking in between each digit.

Y/n couldn't help but moan at the sight, she pulls one of Tatter's hands and placed it on her crotch. "Look at how wet you made me, baby" Y/n whines as Tatter started stroking Y/n's cunt while still sucking on her fingers.

It was now Y/n's turn to be at Tatter's mercy as their role changes. Tatter pushes down Y/n to the seat, still caressing Y/n's wet pussy, before pulling off the girl's underwear.

Tatter licks her lips at the glistening sight in front of her, without wasting one more second, Tatter dives in and start sucking on Y/n's clit before licking up the girl's wet core.

Y/n's hands flew immediately to Tatter's hair, fingers tangling to the strands as she pushes Tatter's head closer to her cunt while her legs are thrown over the blonde girl's shoulders.

"Fuck your tongue is so good—ah that's it baby right there" Y/n screams as she get eaten out by Tatter, her moans are like music to Tatter's ears as she moans against Y/n's clit, sending vibrations through the girl's body.

"Taste so good—fuck!" Tatter muttered as Y/n's nails dig into her scalps. The pain almost made Tatter come again but her priority is making the under her cum first.

It was not long before Tatter is already tongue-fucking Y/n as the girl grinds herself on Tatter's face. Both of their make up is now ruined, the car feels hot even when the a/c is already put on max.

The car reeks of sweat and sex as they switch on positions, Y/n now riding Tatter's face, too fucked to even regain control once again.

♡⑅*˖•. ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .•˖*⑅♡

"Hey where did Tatter gone to?" The team leader of Bebe finally walks to the rest of her members. Although it might seem that Bada won't get any answers from them at all as they are all now intoxicated and passed out drunk.

"We saw her dancing with Y/n earlier but then we don't know the rest." Minah slurred over her words.

"And where is Y/n" Bada looks around at the party. "People are starting to leave now and one of our members is missing, I need to send you all back to your homes."

"Ok mom" Lusher drunkenly said before laying her head once again on the table.

"I'm serious Seoyoung" Bada said as she dials Y/n's number, the phone started ringing and then...

"...Yess oh my god Tatter— c-coming ngh"

Bada immediately ended the call, leaving a message to Y/n before closing her phone and taking the rest of her team back to her car with the help of her partner.

"Make sure Tatter gets back home safely or else I'll hunt you down"

A/n: finally done @taruusmoon, can you imagine it took me a whole month just to finish this lol. Hope you liked it and hope it was worth the wait.

[badaseyebags]

new theme!! ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ new me

send in some requests please ૮ ⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ ·̭ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝ ྀིა

[badaleesbish]

.......Threesome? | Bada Lee x Reader x Tatter

°SUMMARY:

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚃𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚃𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

°C/W:

𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆, 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑!𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊, 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚜𝚞𝚋!𝚃𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙

"You ready for this?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Bada and Tatter were about to perform a piece that they made for a dance workshop. Tatter could help but feel a little nervous and a bit worried. 'What if she messes up?' or 'What if she trips or falls?' or 'What if she ruins the choreography for Bada?'

All these negative thoughts flowed through Tatter's head as she faced the mirror, marking the dance over and over again before class started. You could help but feel bad for Tatter. She's your best friend, and you hate seeing her like this. You sighed and walked over towards Tatter, she saw your reflection in the mirror, and she smiled 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢.

"How you feel, babe?"

"I'm a little nervous. Can you tell?"

"Yeah, Tat, I can. You've gone over the choreo like a thousand times since we got here."

"I know, I just don't want to mess up, you know. I don't want to disappoint Bada."

"Tat, you're not going to mess up, and you're damn sure not going to disappoint Bada. And so what if you do have a little hiccup, I'm almost positive that Bada will not care. Bada is the sweetest soul. We both know that."

"Thank you for being the greatest friend anyone could ever ask for."

"Tat, Y/N, class is starting. Let's go."

Tatter pulled you into quick but loving and even placed a small peck on your cheek before skipping over to Bada, who was taking attendance for this workshop.

Screams filled the dance studio as the two women began dance. You couldn't lie and say you weren't excited as well. You sat in this very dance studio and watched as Bada and Tatter came up with this choreo, and you threw a couple of suggestions out for them as well, so this piece is quite special for all of you.

"LET'S GO, BADA LEE! LET'S GO, TATTER!"

The music began to play, it's almost like a switch flipped in both women's heads. The music took over their bodies as they moved to the lyrics, rhythm, and beat of the song. You were completely speechless watching this piece, like yeah, you saw it already, but this time, it hit totally different. You could feel the tension between the two women as they dance.

It's kinda hot, watching the love of your life dance with your best friend to this quite sensual song. As the choreo came to the end, Bada turned Tatter around, placing her hand around Tatter's neck, tilting her head upwards and slowly gliding her hand down her chest.

You were in shock at what you just witnessed. Your girlfriend just choked your best friend, and why did it kind of turn you on? Tatter, on the other hand, was a bit flustered because that was not part of the choreo, but why did it kind of turn her a bit?

As the dance workshop went on, you felt yourself getting more and more aroused at the thought of your girlfriend choking your best friend out as she ate her out as you watched them teach the choreography to the class of their students.

Tatter tried to avoid any eye contact with Bada because that would just make matters worse now that she is basically dripping through her panties right now.

Bada noticed that Tatter was acting a little weird, every time she would look at Tatter, she would look away very quickly. Bada grabbed Tatter's hand, causing her to whimper at the sudden touch of her hand. Tatter quickly pulled her hand out of Bada's grip, looking down at the studio floor embarrassed at the sound that just let her mouth.

"Tat, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just a little tired from dancing all day. Let's finish up the class, yeah?"

"Okay, let's finish up."

The dance workshop came to an end, and Bada decided to stay back for a while to talk with a couple of her students and have a mini meet and greet with some fans.

"Hey baby, don't wait up for me. I'll be here for a while, but I'll be home as soon as I can."

"Oh, don't worry, love. Tatter and I are having a girls' night tonight, so I'll be fine."

"Okay, well, have fun. Be home soon. I love you, baby. Give me kisses."

"I love you too, my love. You ready, Tat?"

You gave Bada a small peck before grabbing Tatter by the hand, leading her out of the studio. The car ride was silent but comfortable, but you couldn't help but notice that Tatter was rubbing her thighs together and occasionally looking at you, biting her lip.

You looked over towards her, gently placing your hand onto her thigh, giving it a light squeeze. Tatter placed her hand over yours, guiding it closer to her warm pussy, she let out a soft moan as she slowly grinds against the touch of your hand. You remove your hand, gripping the wheel tightly and push on the gas towards your shared apartment with Bada.

The two women laid tangled in the sheets of you and your lover's bed as moans filled the four walls surrounding you. The moans were so loud that you didn't even hear the door of your apartment open. Bada walked into your apartment, kicking off her shoes and throwing her backpack onto the couch. Bada immediately stopped dead in her tracks.

"Is that moaning? What the fuck is going on up there?"

Bada began to climb the stairs that led to the room you two shared. The sounds of moans continued to get louder as Bada stepped closer to the door. Bada twisted the door knob, slightly opening the door to see her girlfriend chindeep in her best friend's pussy and Tatter's thighs locking your head between them as she arched her back. Bada couldn't believe what she was seeing. She pushed open the door, causing the women to jump up from their position.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?"

"Baby-

"NO, WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?"

"Bada-

"Oh, you dirty girl, this is what you do when I’m not around? So I don’t satisfy you enough you had to go for our Tatter?"

"Oh, baby, you do satisfy me so well, but I was, we were thinking that maybe we could have a threesome?"

"Yeah, Bada, I've told you that I have always wanted to experience a threesome with women."

"Tatter, I didn't think you wanted to have one with me and my girlfriend."

"Well, why not? I trust both of you, and I know both of you.?

"Come on, love. Look how pretty she is. Her moans are like music to your ears when you fuck her just right. Don't you want to hear them?"

You placed your hand between Tatter's thighs as Bada watched, Tatter kept eye contact with Bada as you rubbed her clit at a slow pace. You placed kisses along her neck, causing her to let out a breathy whimper. You kissed down to her breast, taking her pink nipple into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it, causing her to moan out and grip your hair.

"C'mere baby, I think she wants you. But let's get these clothes off first."

You gripped her shirt, pulling it over her head, throwing it somewhere in the room. You kissed and sucked along her neck, lifting her sport bra over her head, placing kisses on her breast, taking her nipple into your mouth causing her to let out a soft moan.

You dropped to your knees, pulling at her belt as you kept eye contact with her. You yanked her pants down to her ankles, placing kisses along her inner thighs as Bada stepped out of her pants. You stayed on your knees as Bada towered over you, she grabbed you by the hair pulling you up towards her face again. You whimper at the feeling of Bada yanking at your hair, you love when Bada pulls you by your hair, it made you feel like such a slut. Bada took her other hand and slapped your ass, gently caressing the stinging skin. You yelped out, throwing your head back in pleasure.

"You're such a slut, fucking my best friend. Letting her touch what's mine. You enjoyed it, didn't you?"

"Baby-

"Say it. Tell me you enjoyed it, come on be my good girl and say it."

"Yes, I enjoyed her sucking on my clit, burying her fingers deep into my pussy. It felt so good, baby. I loved every moment of it."

"Such a sweetheart but a whore at the same time. What am I going to do with you, huh?"

Bada pushed you onto the bed as she grabbed Tatter by the hair, making her face her. Bada rubbed her thumb across Tatter's lips, pushing her two fingers into her mouth. Tatter sucked on Bada's fingers, keeping heavy eye contact with her. She pushed her fingers farther into her mouth, causing her to gag, Bada chuckled, pulling her fingers out of her mouth, shaking her head lightly.

"You can't even take two fingers without gagging. How will you ever taking this dick, baby girl?"

"No, please, give it to me. I take it, I promise."

"Baby, you taught her well. Look at her, begging for me. Cute."

"I know, she's such a good girl, aren't you?"

"Let's see how much of a good girl she really is, take it."

Bada shoved the strap into Tatter's mouth. Tatter bobbed her head up and down on the strap, Bada placed her hand on the back of her head, pushing the strap deeper into her mouth. Tears ran down Tatter's face as Bada face fucked her, you kissed away the tears that rolled down her cheek while rubbing up and down her back.

"You doing so good, taking that dick like a big girl."

"Now, I want you to lie back for me so I can see that pretty pussy."

Tatter laid back onto the bed as Bada placed herself between her legs, lightly kissing her lips. Bada grabbed your face, pulling you into a kiss as well, moaning into the kiss. You placed your hands on Bada's breast, pinching and pulling at her nipples. Tatter watched as the two women kissed and touched each other, bucking her hips up against the strap, causing herself to moan at the friction of the silicone against her clit.

"Someone's eager, aren't they? There's enough of me for both of you, baby."

"Bada, please!"

"Please, what? Say it, pretty girl. Tell Bada what you want."

"I want you to fuck me until I can't speak. Give it to me, please, Bada. I'll be a good girl, just fuck me."

Bada slides the dildo into Tatter. She let out a pleasure filled moan as Bada began to gently move in and out of her, Bada slides hand up to Tatter's neck, applying pressure as Tatter threw her head back in pleasure. She looked over at you, placing her hand on your thighs. You opened your legs, watching as Tatter traveled her hand towards your dripping heat and slowly rubbing your clit then gliding through your glistening folds, sliding two fingers into you. You moaned as Tatter slid her fingers in and out of you.

"Sit on my face, Y/N. I wanna taste you."

You placed your knees on each side of her head, slowly lowering yourself onto her tongue. The feeling of the wet muscle connecting with your pussy sent shivers up your spine. Your hips began to have a mind of their as you began to grind against her tongue.

"Oh, you're so good at this, pretty girl. Don't stop, I want to cum all over that pretty face."

Tatter moaned against you as Bada quickened her pace, gripping Tatter's waist, leaving marks from her nails in her skin as she watched as her girlfriend grinds against her best friend's face.

Bada grabbed your face, pulling you into a kiss. You moaned against Bada's lips as Tatter placed her hands on your ass giving it a slight squeeze and slap as she tongue fucked you. You bounced your ass against her face as her tongue went in and out of you.

You felt Tatter's body began to tremble as she came but she didn't stop eating, she hooked her arms around your legs, locking you in so she could finish her job. You placed your hands on her breast to stabilize yourself as your legs began to shake, a wave of pure ecstasy took over your body as you came. You slowly removed yourself off of Tatter's, slowly regain your breath as Tatter licked her lips and fingers, not wanting to waste a single drop of you.

You look over to Bada, gently caressing her cheek. You wanted to take care of her as she took care of you and Tatter. You yearned for the sound of her beautiful moans. You wanted to make her cum hard. You removed the strap from Bada's waist and placed it on yourself. Bada looked at you with pure confusion as you began to put the strap around yourself. You laid back on the bed and placed your hands on Bada's waist.

"Love? What are you doing?"

"Bada, I want you to ride me."

"What? Baby, I have never done that before. I'm always the one with the strap."

"Well, let's change that, yeah?"

"Yeah, Bada, a little change won't hurt. It will feel weird at first but the weird feeling will go away and replaced with pleasure, I promise."

Bada looked at the women, a little nervous at the situation at hand because Bada used to being the dominant one during sex. Bada slowly lowers her onto the strap, let out a whimpering moan. You placed your hands on Bada's thighs, giving them a light tap. Bada began to move against the strap as tears began to form in her eyes. She was trying to get used to the new feeling but couldn't.

"It's okay, baby. Take your time, find your rhythm, baby."

Bada began to grind on the against the strap, slowly finding her rhythm.

"Feels so good, baby."

"Yeah, you look so pretty on top, taking this shit like a good girl."

You thrust upwards against Bada as she bounced on the strap. Tatter kissed along Bada's neck down to her breast, taking her nipple into her mouth, sucking on it and bringing her hand down her hand down to Bada's clit, gently rubbing it in a circular motion. Bada threw head back in pleasure as the two women pleased her.

"Yeah, take that shit, baby girl, it's all yours."

Bada moaned out, running her hands through her hair as you praised her, her grinds began to get sloppy, she placed her hands on your breast to stable herself as her legs began to shake from the constant thrusting of you abusing her pussy.

"You gonna cum for me, pretty girl. Be a good girl and cum for me."

Bada came as Tatter continued to rub her clit. She looked at Tatter, gripping her wrist, pleading for her to keep going. A tingling feeling began to erupt in her stomach as Tatter's motions began to quicken. Bada let out the loudest moan she has ever had as she began squirt all over Tatter's hand, your waist and herself.

"Oh my God, I love you so much, Bada Lee!"

"I l-love you too, baby. That's felt so good! I've never done that before. "

"That shit was so hot. I love you guys! Thank you for taking care of me!"

The three women laid in the sex filled sheets, kissing each other and laughing at the fact that they just had a threesome.

"No, but seriously, when can we do this again?"

"Yeah, we can't just go back to normal and act like this didn't happen."

"Who said we had too."

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘‼️ 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐨!

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞‼️

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @urlovebot, @lexvithian,@jofiels-world, @galletitaluna,@ynjngfz,@avocifera,@pinkyycrown,@fa1ryvibes,@thevenussapphic,@ribbonswrld,@moonsvrse, and more!

[heavenbarnes]

just read the tennis court art drabble, literally will not be thinking of anything else for the rest of the day including this tag

“#if you lived with him? free use baby”

LIKE????? whenever he wants actually🤸🏾‍♀️

HEHEHE 🤪 yeah

in my mind art will almost appear behind you, bending his knees just enough to notch the head of his cock up into you whilst rambling on about some “need it- don’t even have to stop what you’re doing- just let me cum- just need to cum”

whenever he wants however he wants- all day and all night baby

[starogeorgina]

Tattered hears

Warning: Smut, hints of abusive marriage, cheating, swearing

Pairing: Ubbe × reader

1.01

The snap of a branch caught your attention. He was getting closer. You still made your movements, knowing if you made any noise, he’d hear you. You try to hear what direction the footsteps have gone, but the forest goes completely silent. You loved this little game of cat and mouse, you being the helpless prey and…

“Ubbe!” You squeal when he pounces from behind and pushes you forward into a tree.

You press your palms against the tree and arch your back so it’s not touching the rest of your body. Your breath hitches as the cool night air nips at your bare skin and as your lover's hand grazes against the back of your legs, then your ass cheek. He palms your ass with one hand, then another, snaking around your front to squeeze at your jaw, slipping his fingers into your mouth for you to suck on. After a moment, Ubbe lets go of you to lower his trousers enough for his cock to spring free. He rubs his cock against your cunt, which was still dripping from the previous orgasm he gave you from his mouth. He pounds into you roughly, one hand resting on the tree for balance and the other groping at your breast.

You hold your breath, waiting to see if he notices.

Ubbe abruptly spins you around so your back presses against the tree. The look on his face was hard to read. He lifts you, slides back into you, and pulls down the front of your dress so your heavy breasts are out and swaying with each thrust. Ubbe’s eyes widen as he rubs his thumb over your hard nipple. He lifts his head up to meet your gaze with a wicked grin on his face. “You are with the child again.”

“Y—yes.”

His cock reaches the sweet, soft spot that drives you crazy. You dig your fingers into the back of his neck, savoring the moment. It had been months since you last had him alone, and you weren’t sure when you’d be able to do this again. The bark from the tree scratches you, but it only adds to the thrill of fucking him when you shouldn’t be.

“Is it—”

“It’s your baby, Ubbe,” you say before clashing your lips against his.

He smiles into the kiss and says, “How many children must I give you before your husband notices, hmm?”

Muffled moans fall from your lips; you’re so lost in pleasure that it’s hard to form a sentence. You wrap your arms around Ubbe's, holding him close as he continues to thrust into you until he cums. When he’s recovered from his orgasm, he pulls out and gently places you back on the ground, then falls to his knees. Holding your skirts up, he licks at your clit until you come shaking and crying his name.

As Ubbe fixes your skirt, you catch your breath. He smirks while kissing your clothed body, breathing in your scent until he reaches your chest. He brushes his nose against yours while his fingers fix you back into the top of your dress. He raises his brows and says, “This won’t fit soon. You’ll need to size up to make space for your bump.”

“I know.”

“Does he know?”

You shrug. “I’m unsure; he doesn’t pay much attention.”

Ødger, your husband was almost loved as much as Ragner himself. He was known as a fierce warrior and was old enough to be your father. He was well respected within Kattegat by most, aside from Ubbe and his brothers. They saw who Ødger really was; the only reason they hadn’t killed him was because their mother, Aslaug, the queen of Kattegat, made them promise not to.

“When can I see you again?” You ask. After almost getting caught having sex by Bjorn, you decided to keep a distance between you to throw off any suspicions, but it was hard. Your sneaking around had started as one friend helping another, and now you were in love with someone who wasn’t your husband.

“Tomorrow,” he says, fixing himself back into his trousers. “Me and my brother are going fishing. I could take the boys with us; I get to spend time with them and see you without raising any suspicion.”

“Okay, I look forward to it.”

“I don’t know how long I can keep doing this,” he sighs. Ubbe presses his forehead against yours and says, “Leave with me.”

Your heart hammers in your chest. “What?”

“Leave Kattegat with me. We can take the boys and go.” Seeing you look hesitant, Ubbe places your hand on his chest, right above where his heart is. “You love me. I’m the father of your children, not him.”

“Ubbe…”

“Egil and Kåre are my blood, and they should be raised as such.”

Tears swell in your eyes. “Ubbe, please, we had an agreement.”

“What if I told you I wanted to end it? That I want more.” He kisses you passionately. “Elli, I would treat you right; I would give you everything you want.”

You married Ødger too young. And when you failed to fall pregnant, he became violent. The only person you shared the fear of not having children with was Ubbe. Wanting to help you, Ubbe suggested you sleep together until you were with the child. By the age of fifteen, you gave birth to your first child, Egil, and two years later, you gave birth to Kåre. Now, seven years after your secret relationship started, you are pregnant again. Throughout the years, you had hidden the way Ødger treated you, but as your sons got older, you feared for their safety.

“I’m scared,” you admit.

“If you stay with him, I’ll watch over you and the boys from a distance, but I cannot continue doing this. It’s becoming too hard; watching you fake a happy life with someone who doesn’t deserve you is painful for me. Leave Kattegat with me; we can come back one day.”

“What about your mother?”

“My brothers can protect her without me for a few years.”

Looking into Ubbe’s blue eyes, you knew what your decision would be. “I’ll go with you; as long as you promise me, you’ll always keep Egil and Kåre safe from Ødger.”

“I promise.”

—

Your day had gone well; your sons had gone fishing with Ubbe and Hvitzerk. Your eldest Egil was incredibly proud to present you with what he caught. You prepared the meal alone so it would be done faster, promising to show them how to gut a fish the next day. Aslaug had asked you to make her three new dresses in a short space of time. You still needed to collect more plants for dyes and more wool to turn into yarn.

Hearing Ødger’s voice, you told your boys to play outside but not to go off far. Ødger stands behind you, watching as you clean food off the table. He grunts, “We have thrall’s for that.”

“I don’t mind.”

Your husband pushes himself up behind you, causing you to scrunch up your face. Even the mere touch of him caused your skin to crawl. He brushes his mouth against the back of your neck. “I heard Ragnar’s sons were here earlier.”

“They took Egil and Kåre fishing.” You say. Ubbe had briefly discussed the plan he had made for you to leave together when Hvitzerk appeared, cutting the conversation short. Feeling your husbands hands start to grope at your body, you push him away and say, “Ødger, stop.”

“Stop?”

“I’m not in the mood for… that.”

“What?” He frowns.

“I don’t feel well,” you say, trying to walk by him.

Furious, he grabs hold of your wrist to stop you from leaving. “Is it not a wife’s job to please her husband?” When you don’t answer him, his grip tightens. “Speak woman!”

“I don’t feel well because I am with a child.”

Kåre runs inside, interrupting Ødger before he can reply. “Mother, Queen Aslaug is outside.”

Aslaug walks into your home with a smile plastered across her face while holding Egil’s hand. You were convinced she knew the truth about your son's parentage but would never ask. “I just came by to see how the dresses were coming along.” She walks closer to you and says, “My sons told me the good news.”

“My apologies; I haven’t finished the dresses yet.”

She gives you a knowing look, then politely talks to Ødger, but he quickly leaves. When he is gone, Aslaug mumbles something to herself and places her hand on your stomach, her smile fading as she does.

“What’s wrong?”

“I am told very little, but I know everything,” she says quietly. “And I know leaving Kattegat isn’t in your future.”

[iveantive]

Prompt: sowoen has her first rut

or

sowoen (alpha) has her first rut but thankfully bada (alpha)is there to guide her and tatter (omega) is there to help her

TW: A/B/O, g!p, threesome, dirty talk, degradation, rutting, knotting, double penetration, breeding, age difference, size difference, cockwarming, belly bulge, anal

a/n i refer to tatter as her real name taeyoung throughout

“Let's go through the routine one more time; make sure you got it down,” Bada hummed, sitting on the practice room floor, her head leaning up against the wall. 

Sowoen nodded. One more time couldn’t hurt, she thought to herself. 

It was nearly 3 am at the dance studio. Other than Bada and Taeyoung, the other Bebe members had long since trickled their way out. Finish memorizing the dance for their upcoming mission. For some reason, though, Sowoen just could not get the moves down. She had been at it for hours, standing in front of the mirror, the same song replaying time after time. Previously, the other members were by her side, explaining the steps one by one to her. However, she just couldn’t get it. 

She couldn’t put her finger on it. It was like she wasn’t in control of her body. 

Only when all the other members had left was the issue more apparent to Sowoen. When she got to the practice room today, she noticed a strange scent in the air but decided to ignore it. Nobody else seemed to have noticed it, so she assumed she was just imagining things. 

When it went down to just the three of them, it became apparent the smell was Taeyoung. And it had only grown stronger. Sowoen didn’t understand why the scent of citrus exuding from her had only now started to disrupt her focus. This is how Taeyoung always smelt. She's sure of it. After all, it was her favorite scent out of the omegas in the group. 

Whatever was up with her, she had to ignore it, and she couldn’t let her group down just because she was having an off day. 

Bada had seen the frustration and anger coming from the maknae. She knew she was trying her best, doing the best she could. That’s why she said nothing when the other Bebe members bid her goodbye, asking her when she was leaving. Opting to stay with the maknae instead. Bada knows how upsetting and lonely it can feel in the practice room late at night, and she didn’t want that for Sowoen.

And as Taeyoung was practically a second leader to Bada, she had decided to stay with the maknae as well. Standing by her side, doing the movements with her, over and over. Still, somehow, despite how exhaustion and tiredness of 3 am hours had rolled around, Taeyong had been the one to lighten the mood for the three. Still managed to crack some jokes here and there. 

It did seem like Sowoen's hard work was starting to pay off. Perhaps it was the pressure of knowing that her unnies wouldn’t leave unless she had gotten the moves down. As the hours went by, the moves had started to click with her. 

So here they were. Still stood by Soewon's side for the past few hours.

Bada looked down at her phone, where the song they had been practicing for the past few hours had been queued up time and time again. She pressed play on the song at let the music ring out for the nth time that night. 

Sowoens got it; she nodded to herself. Parts where she had previously faltered or forgotten, she had managed to recall the moves, doing them in almost perfect sync with Taeyoung. 

Focus, focus, focus, that was the only thing running through Sowoen's mind. She looked at herself in the mirror. Even she was able to see she had improved. She felt more confident in herself than before with each move. So confident, in fact, she let her gaze wander to the side of her.

To Taeyoung.

The sweat coating her skin, falling down her neck. As she whipped her head, hitting the next beat of the dance. In between each movement, Soewon could hear the hard breaths of air she was exhaling. 

With every inhale, the citrusy scent was growing stronger, engulfing all of Sowoen's senses. She was trying. She really was. She tried to redirect her eyes back to herself, but no matter how hard she tried, they kept glancing back at Taeyoung, imagining what she would look like, exhausted in another way. 

Her head was starting to hurt. Her vision was getting blurry, with tunnel vision only focusing on Taeyoung. She shook her head.

No

Focus, focus, focus, she was oh so desperately trying. 

But, before Sowoen knew it, she found herself tripping on her own feet, followed by her body colliding with the hardwood floor of the dance studio. 

“Sowoenie, oh my god, are you okay?” Taeyoung stood over her, face riddled with concern. 

“Ye-yeah, i- i jus-”.

Cutting her words off, the overwhelming scent of citrus again filled her nostrils. She looked up at Taeyoung. This. This was her fault, Sowoen reasoned. Getting up off the ground, she towered over Taeyoung. So small, so delicate. 

“Why do you smell like that?” Sowoen took a deep inhale; the scent was practically in her head, and she couldn’t think of anything else right now. Just that scent, just Taeyoung. She wanted. No needed it. 

“Sm-smell li-like what?” Taeyoung stuttered as she had never seen the maknae act this way before. Sensing the newfound tension in the air between the two, Bada had gotten up and stood next to them. 

“Citrus, it's you.” Sowoens eyes bored into Taeyoung. Who only looked back at her with utter confusion. Of course, she knew it was her scent, but she knew for a fact that she had taken her scent blockers today. 

Bada took a deep sniff of the air, trying to catch the scent Sowoen had been talking about. Upon inhaling the air, she smelt nothing. Sniffing a bit deeper, she was able to pick up the scent of a slight citrus. That was normal, though. It shouldn’t be anything that would make Sowoen's nose act up unless. 

And then it hit her.

“You’re rutting.” Bada's words practically felt like a knife as they cut through Sowoen and Taeyoung's confrontation. Sowoen whipped her head to look at Bada. 

“No, I- I- don’t,” She stuttered. Sowoen hadn’t ever rut before. She knew that it would probably hit her sometime this year as she had just recently turned 19. She didn’t think it would be this soon, especially not here. 

“You wouldn’t be able to smell Taeyoung like that anyway else,” Bada concluded. She, herself an alpha, knew all the signs of an upcoming rut. The heightened senses, the irritability, the inability to think of anything else but breeding. 

“Couldn’t you sense it coming?” Bada quirked an eyebrow at her as she asked. 

Sowoen's cheeks started to heat up upon being asked this question. Suddenly feeling the eyes of both her unnies on her, waiting for her answer. 

“I-i’ve never rut before, i-i don’t know.” Sowoen bowed her head, looking at the ground. 

Bada nodded her head. She couldn’t blame the maknae for not knowing the signs. Now, she was starting to feel bad for pushing her so hard during this dance practice. She would've sent her home if she knew how the maknae was feeling. A tap on her arm broke her away from her thoughts. 

“What should we do?” Taeyoung asked. Although it wasn’t inherently her fault, she still felt bad. She had been around some overbearing, aggressive alphas in the past who hadn’t been able to control themselves at the very scent of an omega. She wonders how Sowoen, a relatively new presenting alpha, has been able to control herself this entire time, not just around her but also the other four omegas in the group. 

Bada felt that the two options here were cut and dry. Taeyoung helps Sowoen through her rut right now. Or they somehow lug Sowoen back to her house and let her parents deal with it. Looking at the state of the maknae, whose eyes were still firmly planted on the ground, while she had a light sheer of sweat coating her skin, thought the right answer would be obvious. Saying that, though, she wouldn’t force Taeyoung into accepting the first option either.

“Do you want to help her, you know?” Bada quirked an eyebrow.

Hearing those words had caught Sowoen's attention. Her head perked up as she looked to Taeyoung to see her answer. 

It’s her first rut. How bad could it be, Taeyoung thought to herself. 

“Ye-yeah, I-i’ll help her.” 

“Th-thank you, unnie,” Sowoen said with the utmost sincerity.

It didn’t take long for Taeyoung to feel her back collide with the hardwood floor, as the maknae had, by all means, tackled her to the ground. Leaving sloppy kisses all over her neck. 

“H-hey Sowoen, wait a second.” She used way too much strength than usual to push the maknae, getting her to stop. She unzipped the hoodie she had been wearing, now only left in a simple sports bra. Taeyoung could practically see the fireworks in Sowoen's eyes as she went back down to kissing her neck, leaving little bites here and there. 

Taeyoung smelt so good she needed more. Sowoen kept trying to dig her nose deeper and deeper into the crook of Taeyoung's neck, trying to get as close as possible to her. She needed her; she needed to get closer. 

She needed to be in her. 

Sowoen started bucking her hips inconsistently against Taeyoung's thigh as she continued to leave sloppy kisses that had now traveled down to her chest. The maknae had started pawing at Taeyoung's clothed breasts, too much in her own mind to comprehend much around her. All she knew was that she needed more of this delicious scent. 

Bada looked at Sowoen. She resembled what could be described as an excited puppy right about now with the way she was just grinding against Taeyoung's thigh, her hands trying to grasp onto any skin Taeyoung let her, with the little breath whimpers that fell from her mouth with every passing moment. 

The maknae was adorable. She wondered if she had looked this cute and excited during her first rut. 

Taeyoung had started to grow impatient. She knew that the young girl didn’t know what she was doing, but god damn. 

“So-Sowoenie,” Taeyoung's voice was shaky as she pushed Sowoen's head away for the 2nd time that night. 

“You need more. I know you do. Come on,” Taeyoung whined, hoping that would be enough to get Sowoen to do something.

Sowoen just looked at Taeyoung like a confused puppy before quirking her head to the side.

Fuck she's cute as all Taeyoung could think.

“Take her shorts off,” They heard Bada say from the side. What the fuck, Taeyoung had somehow forgotten that she had been here this entire time. If there were a better time and place for your team leader to see you get fucked she would love to hear it. 

Catching the not-so-subtle hint from Bada, Sowoen, still coherent enough, managed to move the hand that wasn’t squeezing Taeyoungs tit. Down till it reached the waistband of her shorts and tried to tug them down. However, she was having some trouble doing so, and before Taeyoung could say anything, she heard the sound of fabric ripping. 

God dammit, she was going to have to buy some new shorts.

And she knows she hears Bada let out a snicker from the sidelines. 

“Take yours off too, Sowoenie.” They once again heard Bada.

Taeyoung swears she heard Sowoen let out a loud huff before seeing her sweatpants tossed across the room. Now, only in her boxers could Taeyoung feel the maknaes bulge in the closest proximity. Her eyes were nearly popping out of her head. She was big. 

Sowoen continued to kiss Taeyoung's chest down to her tummy, stopping at the waistband of her panties, looking up at Taeyoung like a puppy, asking permission from her owner. Heh, cute, she thought as she nodded. Feeling the maknae tug down her panties, thankfully not ripping them like her poor shorts. 

She doesn’t know why she wasn’t able to notice before, but she was so wet. Maybe it was her body's innate nature to grow with arousal around alphas, or Sowoen's clumsy movements were actually doing something for her. Whatever it was, she was wet and hadn’t been this wet in a long while. The maknae was still stuck grinding her bulge against her thigh, and by this time, she could feel the precum leaking through her boxers onto her skin. 

“I-in-inside pl-please.” Since when did her voice get so whiny? Taeyoung wondered to herself.

Sowoens was bucking her hips with nothing but excitement to finally get in something. As a result, the head of her cock was ghosting over her folds, poking the soft flesh every so often. Just making Taeyoung writhe and whine even more. Sowoen was so close to where she needed it most. Taeyoung tried to move her hips in tandem with the maknae but to no avail. 

Finally, catching the attention of Bada, who was now Sowoen's side, the leader looked down at Taeyoung with that stupid grin on her face. Bada was having too much fun watching this show unfold, but seeing how desperate Taeyoung was and, well, how blissfully unaware Sowoen was of the latter's desperation, she had to intervene. 

Bada reached one of her hands between Taeyoung's legs and manually spread her folds with her ring and index finger, eliciting a muffled moan from her before Bada fixed her eyes back on the maknae. 

“Okay, Sowoenie, you want aim here, okay?” Bada instructed the maknae. She used her middle finger to essentially point to exactly where Sowoen needed to go. 

And the guidance did, in fact, work as Sowoen took hold of her length and aimed her cockhead precisely where Bada had pointed to and began to insert the head of her cock inside her, making Taeyoung let out a loud moan rip from her throat. 

“Shit, she's that big, huh” Bada commented. She knew the younger was big just by judging from where she was, but god. 

It didn’t take long for Sowoen to ease her entire length into Taeyoung, giving the girl under her what was definitely not enough time to adjust before she started to buck her hips into the girl below her. Making Taeyoung reach for anything to grab onto, and it just so happened to be the maknaes clothed back. She began clawing at her back, trying to get used to the intrusion inside of her. 

Sowoens lips were back on Taeyoungs neck, sucking at the soft flesh, letting her tongue graze over the skin. Her hand that had been dancing on top of Taeyoung's sports bra-cladded chest had made its way under and was now squeezing one of them in her hands. The fabric had seemingly gotten in her way, though, because before Taeyoung could even process what was happening, she heard the sound of fabric being ripped. 

Another article of clothing she has to buy, god dammit. 

The maknaes hips were moving more sporadically as her knot started to form; her body was practically engulfing Taeyoungs much smaller frame. She just needed to feel as close as possible to her as she could. Sowoen's mouth had traveled back down to Taeyoung's chest, letting her tongue lap at the peak of her nipple. Then she took it into her mouth fully, suckling on the hardening peak in her mouth. 

Her thrusts started getting faster and rougher, the sounds of wet skin hitting against each other filling the room with every grind of Sowoen's hips. Her pelvis rubbing up against Taeyoungs clit was making her near closer and closer to the edge.

“Remember, Sowoenie, you have to get your knot inside of her, okay? You’ll feel better after,” Bada patted the maknaes head with her free hand. The other one had found its way into her sweatpants and was lazily stroking her cock over the fabrics. 

Sowoen just let out a whimper in acknowledgment to Bada. Nevertheless, she listened with a few clumsy thrusts before a particularly hard one managed to pop the knot into Taeyoung, making her release a loud guttural moan. Her knot was huge, and she was feeling so stretched out, so overwhelmed, she didn’t know how Sowoen was able to manage it. But, her two hands were feeling like 10, with the way they were practically feeling up every portion of her body. 

As Sowown teetered closer and closer to the edge, she started putting more effort into the thrusts. Although they were still clumsy, it was clear Sowoen knew what she was going after. With each buck of her hips, a low grunt fell from her mouth. The suckling on Taeyoung's nipples was getting rougher, with the previously soothing lips of Sowoen turning into the feeling of her teeth having more and more contact with her skin. No doubt leaving a mark in the process. 

Not long after, after a few more uncoordinated thrusts, Sowoen had came, her knot inflating, stretching Taeyoung out even more, sending her into her own overwhelming orgasm. She hadn’t taken an alpha knot in a while, and good god, was Sowoens by far the biggest she’d had. As Sowoeun erupted inside of her, she let out what was a seemingly never-ending amount of seed from her cock, and due to her inflated knot, it showed no signs of seeping out.

Sowoen had her arms resting beside Taeyoung's head, as her own head was buried in her chest. Letting out little moans from her first harsh, rutting orgasm, the aftershocks still had an effect on her. While Taeyoung was in her own post-orgasm haze, her arms had found their way to Sowoen's neck, holding the younger girl closer. Her body was still quivering, her walls still contracting around Sowoens cock as if she was trying to milk her for all she got.

A few moments had passed, and Bada was sat close to the pair; her hand had found its way beneath her sweatpants, just lazily stroking her hard cock. 

Until she very loudly cleared her throat, catching the attention of the pair intertwined together. Sowoen managed to perk up a little, turning to Bada, as she was very much still enjoying the warmth Taeyoung was providing. 

“Was Taeyoung a good omega for you, Sowoenie?” 

Like Bada even had to ask, just looking at the state the young girl was in is all you needed to see that she had been more than enjoying herself. 

Sowoen immediately nodded her head like an excited puppy.

“She’s very warm.” The young alpha was practically glowing, clearly liking how things played out.

“Mmmmmm bred her so well,” Bada hummed, fixing her gaze onto Taeyoung, whose grip on the maknae had loosened but made no effort to try to push her off her.  Bada pondered in her head for a couple of seconds before making up her mind. Maybe if Bada thought for a few more seconds, she would realize that she wasn’t thinking straight. Perhaps it had something to do with the strong mix of pheromones wafting in the air, the intense scents practically choking her. It was messing with her head. 

“Don’t you think Unnie deserves a turn, Sowoenie?” Bada tutted.

“If unnie thinks so,” Sowoen looked up at Bada with wide eyes. Her pupils were blown wide.

“Good answer,” Bada smirks, gazing back at where the pair were connected. 

“You’re gonna have to pull out of Taeyoung, though, okay?” Bada said more as a command than a question.

“O-okay, unnie,” Sowoen mumbled. It was clear who was in charge of the situation, not that Sowoen really minded. She was happy to listen to her leader, listen, and do whatever she pleased. 

Thankfully, as the minutes leading up to this had passed, Sowoen's knot had slowly deflated, making it easier to ease her way out of Taeyoungs. Much to the latter's display, her arms were still wrapped around Sowoens neck, whimpering as Sowoens cock began to leave her. 

Bada had repositioned herself so she was in front of the pair, and there she had a front-row seat to watching Sowoens load dripping out of her pussy. Bada isn’t sure if it’s because of Sowoens first rut, but she was in awe with how much cum was being pushed out with every contraction of Taeyoungs pussy walls. The fluid was overflowing down to Taeyoungs asshole and even beginning to pool onto the floor. She should be thankful that the Street Women Fighter staff had made it mandatory for all omegas, betas, and alphas to be on some sort of contraception; otherwise, there was no doubt in Bada's mind that Taeyoung would have been knocked up right now. 

Once Sowoen had pulled out of Taeyoung, the young girl had flopped onto the ground next to her. It was somewhat cute to Bada in a way, with the way Sowoen had previously been up on Taeyoung aimlessly humping her, running off nothing but pure excitement and well hormones. And looking at her now, her bangs were stuck to her forehead due to the sweat that was still coating her skin, not to mention her cock still covered with the mixed fluid of her and Taeyongs.

“Sit up and watch Unnie,” Bada said in a way that sounded like a command. It was enough for Sowoen to immediately shoot up from her spot lying on the ground to sitting up, staring at Bada. Focusing on her next move.

Bada shifted her focus to Taeyoung, who still lay limp on the ground. Although the deep breathing had subsided by now, and she had managed to catch her breath, she showed no intentions of moving.

“Looks like you gave our maknae here a good first rut experience,” Bada motioned towards the young girl.

“It's a shame her first rut will be her best,” Taeyoung teased. 

“You’re that cocky, huh?” Bada scoffed. 

“Never met an alpha that didn’t want to hit twice after being with me once.” She shrugged with a smirk on her phase. 

“You want to test that?” Bada's tone dropped as she glanced down at her hard-on, then back up at Taeyoung. 

“What’re you waiting for?”  She said in a smug tone.

It seemed that in one swift motion, Bada was able to completely rearrange her and Taeyoung's positions. Bada was now the one with her back to the floor with Taeyoung straddling her waist. 

Sowoen was in complete and utter awe. She didn’t understand how Bada was able to make all those moves so smoothly. She kept watching the older women, hoping somehow a bit of that relaxed yet suave nature would rub off on her.

Bada had started grinding her hips, her cock still locked in the confines of her sweatpants, practically bursting from the fabric waiting to be released. Taeyoung ground against Bada, trying to match her movements. She could feel the combined fluids of herself and Sowoen leaking through Bada's sweatpants. 

“Grinding on me like a slut” Bada spat as she reaches her hands to settle them on Taeyoungs waist. 

“Well, you like it, don't you? I can feel how hard you are,” Taeyoung retorted. 

Bada growled. Who did Taeyoung think she was to talk down to her? She halted her movements, not failing to see the confusion on Taeyoung's face as she tried to move her hips against Bada's strong grip to no avail.

She was able to keep Taeyoung still enough for her to ever so slightly pull down her sweatpants and boxers just enough for her cock to spring out. Upon doing that, the tip of Bada's cock swiped against Taeyoungs core, making her let out an unrestrained moan.

“You want it?” Bada's tone was dripping in lust. She dragged her tip over Taeyoungs folds, ghosting over her already sensitive clit made her gasp. Bada continued on dipping her cock so close to where she needed it most but never gave in. 

Taeyoung was really trying to bite her lip, trying to keep her noise restrained. But the way Bada was talking to her had her so fucking horny, to put it bluntly. It was so different from how Sowoen treated her. The young girl had treated her more like a reward that she was happy to receive. It felt like Sowoen was trying to keep her close. While Bada was different, her tone was low and rough. She was treating her like a toy, and she liked it. She liked feeling the older woman's tight grip around her waist, the way she was able to easily pick her up and put her up on her lap. 

She was usually never this needy. The majority of the time, she was satisfied with one orgasm, though this time, Taeyoung wanted more. She wanted more of Bada. 

 “i-inside,” Taeyoung just barely audible mumbled out. 

“Mmmm, didn’t catch that one more time,” Bada mocked. 

“I- just pl-please.” Taeyoung felt like she was going to go crazy.

“Say it clearly for me.” 

Bada looked to the side of her and met with the youngest girl's eyes blown wide, staring back at her. 

“And Sowoenie” Bada demanded. Picking up her pace, she drew little whimpers from Taeyoungs as she continued to tease her entrance. 

“Need you i-inside,” Taeyoung finally choked out. 

“Did you hear that, Sowoenie?” Bada looked back over to Sowoen, seeing her immediately shake her head yes.

With that, Bada gave no further warning as she plunged her cock into Taeyoungs waiting core, eliciting in her letting out a loud-high, pitched moan, followed by her previously stoic stature faltering. She had lunged forward, being caught by Bada, easily able to be held close to her with one arm. Not giving her any time to adjust, Bada started to shallowly grind her hips. 

Every movement Bada made, Taeyoung felt so deep inside of her. She had her eyes closed and bit her lip. If she thought Sowoen was big, Bada was a whole other beast. She doesn’t know how she has been able to keep it confined in those sweatpants for so long. She had just been lucky the leftover combination of fluid of her and Sowoen had made it somewhat easier for Bada to sink into her heat. 

“Thank you for stretching her out for me, Sowoenie,” Bada spoke before focusing back on Taeyoung. 

She was in no rush; she was keeping the same slow, brutal pace, slowly dragging her cock out to the tip before plunging back in. Bada could feel Taeyoung writhing in her arms, doing nothing but holding her tighter, preventing her from finding any sort of stimulation herself. 

“Such a slut. Want another alpha to cum in you already?” Bada spat.

“You’re just meant to be alphas little cum slut aren’t you?” Bada raised her free hand and tugged Taeyoung's hair, making her look at her. 

“Answer me,” Bada demanded. 

“Y-yes, pl-please I want alphas cum” Taeyoung begged, her body thrashing against Badas, trying to find any sort of relief, to no avail. 

Bada looked back over to Sowoen, seeing that she had already grown hard again. Must be that rut, Bada thought to herself. She knew it was only a matter of time before Sowoen had gotten her first taste of knotting inside an omega before she’d want to do it again. 

And, of course, Bada knew just the trick that would satiate the young alpha enough. Bada snaked one of her hands down Taeyoungs ass down her crack till she ghosted over her unbreached hole. Immediately feeling Taeyoung struggle in her grasp again. 

“Stop it. You said you would help Sowoenie,” Bada growled. 

Thankfully Taeyoungs asshole still had remnants of her and Sowoens combined fluids dripping in and around the unbreached hole. Bada slowly started pressing, hearing Tayoung let out a string of No’s followed by a loud gasp as Bada inserted the tip of her finger inside her ass.

Along with the shallow thrusts Bada was still giving, her finger had started going in and out of Taeyong's hole. This continued on for another couple minutes or so before Bada started to insert another finger, scissoring the two digits in her hole and stretching her out a bit. After all, Sowoen was going to need to fit, and Bada knew Taeyoung wasn’t going to be able to take her without at least a little bit of prep.

“Sowoenie, come here,” Bada motioned for the younger girl to come closer. The young girl moved quickly over to her.

“You’re hard again, aren’t you” She glanced between Sowoen's legs, her hard cock looking back at her. 

“Y-yeah,” Sowoen shyly got out. 

“You want to cum again, too, right?” 

Sowoen nodded, a blush of red growing on her cheeks. 

“Luckily for us, our omega has oh so graciously offered up her ass for you,” Bada said matter of factly. 

Sowoen wasn’t really sure what to think. She obviously hadn’t done anal before, and she didn’t want to hurt Taeyoung. Then again, from what she's seen online, it's supposed to be different from a pussy, maybe even better. And that sounded good to Sowoen. Taeyoungs pussy had already felt so good around her. Whos to say her ass won’t feel even better. This is what Bada wanted her to do, after all. And how could she be wrong? 

Bada had planted her feet on the ground and spread her legs a bit to make room for the maknae. Sowoen was kneeling right in front of the pair. She could see how Bada was still grinding her hips against Taeyoung.

“What’re you waiting for, Sowoenie? I stretched her out for you,” She heard Bada say. 

Sowoen edged closer to them, grabbing ahold of her cock. Running the tip of it over Taeyoungs asshole, letting some of the spurting precum drips inside. Before she began to press her tip into the hole, she slowly started to feed her length into her.  She swears she could hear Taeyoung let out a choked sob before it was muffled by Bada, shoving her face closer to her chest. 

It had taken a few moments for Sowoen to get comfortable inside Taeyoung, and it felt good. It did feel different from a pussy. She wouldn’t say it felt better for her, but it was different. A good difference. 

“I’m going to thrust first, then you okay? Try to keep up,” She heard Bada say. 

Sowoen all of a sudden felt her mouth go dry at the last part of Badas' sentence, so she just shot the older girl a simple thumbs up. 

They were clumsy at first, with them not being able to meet each other thrusts. But, somehow, they had gotten the hang of it. Each thrust made Taeyoung let out a guttural moan. The thin wall kept them from feeling each other's bare skin. It was a strange sensation to Sowoen. She was able to feel Bada's cock thrusting in as she pulled out. She could feel how strong Badas thrusts were against her shallow ones, and did it feel good. 

Bada was the one who started to pick up her pace, it had been a couple of hours since this whole thing had started, and she was the only one who had yet to cum. She looked down against her chest to see Taeyoung's face stained with tears as she let out little whimpers into her sweatshirt. “Such a cockslut for us, Taeyoung, taking us at the same time,” Bada's voice was low. 

“Isn’t she, Sowoenie?”

“Y-yeah, g-good omega,” Sowoen managed to stutter out as she was trying to focus on her thrusts working in tandem with Badas. 

Bada was able to snake her hand between her and Taeyoung, reaching for her lower belly. Feeling the bump she made with every thrust of her cock indenting itself into her tummy made Bada was to go faster. Wanting to fill her up with her load.

Sowoen had managed to keep up with Bada's fast pace, feeling herself edge closer to the cumming as well. It seemed that the older woman was able to tell because she had planted her feet on the ground and started thrusting rougher and faster into Taeyoung. 

By this point, Taeyoung's voice was hoarse. She was barely able to moan anymore, just letting out little gasps and whimpers here and there. She had lost count of the orgasms she had. Where they started and where they ended had begun to blur together.

The fast pace Bada had set with Sowoen managing to meet was starting to get to both of them, their thrusts becoming inconsistent. With Bada’s thrusts having become lazier, her just trying to feel as much as Taeyoung as possible. And Sowoen's rut mindset has seemingly made its appearance again with the way she thrust into Taeyoung in short bursts of energy. 

Sowoen was the first one to break, unloading her load into Taeyoungs asshole. Out of some sort of miracle, Sowoen's knot hadn’t inflated the entire time. Perhaps it had something to do with how strong her first one of the night was earlier. She didn’t know. As she came, she let out a loud whimper, followed by herself becoming limp, draping her body over Taeyoung's lower half. 

Bada, on the other hand, still had a few more thrusts left in her and used that last bit of energy to fuck into Taeyoung hard and fast, pressing onto the bump in her belly once more, urging her to want to fill the omega up, with her seed. Her loud grunts with every thrust getting louder, she wasn’t sure if it was animalistic instincts inside of her or the pure extortion she was feeling. 

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum” Bada growled as she came, her hips continuing to stutter in shallow thrusts inside of Taeyoung. The ropes of cum kept going with each movement of Bada's hips till her orgasm had stopped. 

Moments passed, and Taeyoung began to recover a bit. She felt so full, Bada's cock still in her pussy and Sowoens still in her ass. Both of their loads deep inside her, she felt good, so warm, so satisfied. Her body was pressed up against Bada's much bigger one. The older girl's arms were holding her close. While Sowoen was draped over her ass, her head resting on her lower back, her arms somehow had found themselves wrapped around her lower body. 

Bada reached one of her hands to brush Taeyoung's hair out of her face. Seeing that it was stained with tears. 

“You okay?” Bada softly asked. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. You guys were just kinda rough,” Taeyoung said. 

“Mmmm, you kinda asked for it.” Bada shrugged that shit-eating grin back on her face. 

“Whatever,” Taeyoung muttered, too tired to poke back at Bada anymore. She opted to lean into the warmth inside of her, just enjoying the feeling of being so full. 

Bada looked down at her watch, seeing that it read 5 am. 

Shit, Bada thought.

It's way too late to bring Sowoen to her parent's house now. It is better for all of them if they just stay at her apartment for the night. It was only a short walk from the practice room, after all. 

“We should go, it's late. You guys can both stay at my place for the night,” She announced. 

“I’d agree, but good luck waking her up,” Taeyoung said, muffled into Bada’s sweatshirt. 

Bada looked past Taeyoung and fixed her gaze on Sowoen. Somehow, the maknae had fallen asleep. She was now able to hear the little snores coming from the young girl. As she lay, her head resting on the crook of Taeyoungs lower back, and her cock still buried in Taeyoungs ass. 

Bada sighed. At least she was having a good first rut. 

[lizsos]

Truth or dare

Summary : you and you best friend Tatter are doing a sleepover , while you were in Tatter's house she suggests playing Truth or dare, and my things got exposed that day .

Genre : smut

(Switch) Tatter x (switch) reader

"WHAT?!" Tatter shouted at you , "you've never donit with a girl ? Live never ever ?!" She mocked you for your confession , making you regret playing truth or dare with her.

"I get it , I get it but I've only been with dudes . I only found out I strictly liked women a few months ago !" You defend yourself , though you knew it was worthless because she was right . Even when you thought you were bi you still couldn't hit on a women

Men are just so much easier , all you have to do was show some cleavage and bend over in a skirt and they'd be begging to get in your pants , but girls were so much more complicated to you . They didn't care about stuff like that so usually when a girl would flirt with you , you would freeze up and become a blubbering mess .

Tatter sighed , "okay fine fine , it your turn now"

You asked the question and when she answered with a truth you had to think for a moment . Why was this game so hard again ? Being tipsy from not answering questions or skipping out on fares was difficulty not helping either .

"Most awkward person you've had a sex dream about ?" You asked . It was just the first thing you could think of . You waited for Tatter to answer it casually like she did every other 'Embarrassing ' question you asked , but instead she picked up on of the shots you guys prepared and drank it .

Oh

Oh

Tatter would never hesitate to answer that question, even if it was someone like her teacher Bada ! So why did she choose to not answer ? Unless the answer was you . Not determined to figure this mystery out you mindlessly answered dare when she asked .

"Sit on my lap " she said -no-she commanded without any hesitation in her voice what-so-ever . She was your best friend and you'd sat in her lap so many times in the past, so why was your body warming at the thought of it now? Sure , you were both in just panties and a t-shirt , but you've bathed her when she was to drunk to do it herself !

Hesitanly , you crawled over to her side of the coffee table and sat in her lap . Well kind of on her crossed ankles instead on her lap . You were surprised when a pair of delicate hands grabbed your waist and yanked you properly into her lap . You half shouted half... moaned ?

You tried to brush over it as fast as possible, "truth or dare , Tatter ?" You asked , your voice wavering . You hoped she would pick truth , but Tatter was smater than that ,she knew what question you'd ask her so she picked dare . Forced to come up with something on the spot you blurted the first thing that your tipsy brain could think of .

"Kiss me"

Tatter didn't hesitate for a moment to pull you into a kiss . A needy , wet kiss that left you panting when she finally pulled away .

"Truth or dare " she asked causally, as she didn't just give you the most amazing kiss you've ever had

"Truth" you panted out , mind racing

"Do you want me to kiss you again?"

All you could do was nod as she fully turned you around so you were straddling her , as she pulled you into a breath stealing kiss .this time you leaned into it, opening your mouth when she pushed at it , begging for access .

When she stopped assaulting your mouth . You (tried ) to ask her the question just as casually as she had "Truth or dare?" Amd this time she picked truth .

"What happend? In the wet dream?" You asked , face flushing even more . You were particularly as pink as she was .

Tatter thought for a moment, pushing her blonde hair out of her face . "You came home crying , blubbering about how you just got broken up with. I couldn't stand it and kissed you to get you to stop talking about some man . I told you I could make you feel better than any brainless dick ever could and we went to my room . Then y'know " She ended abruptly and you could swear her face was a darker pink now .

Seeing her flustered was an opportunity you could not miss . "No I don't know.." you feigned shyness , drawing circles into her chest mindlessly "tell me .."

"W-well .. " She stuttered. Tater , the most confidant person (besides bafa) you've ever ,met just stuttered ! " I pushed you onto the bed and stared kissing you ... while groping you . The you said you needed more than that , " her breath hitched in her throat for a moment , "Then you said you want me to help you forget about him .."

She stopped again , like she was too embarrassed to keep describing it . This girl would walk around naked around you and flirt with you all the time but NOW she was embarrassed? You had to keep pushing this .

"Tell me more , Tatter ... please " you whispered , leaning closer to her ear .

She slid a hand up your shirt , " I started , uh , massaging you like this..." you yelped in surprise, replying Tatter was taking back control. "I took my time .. because you'd always complain about how guys always skip the foreplay.?." And that's what she did now , fondling you carefully, like she was focusing on you . You laid your head on the crook of her neck , taking in the smell of her perfume . Strawberry . It fit her perfectly.

"You told me you were hot so I took your shirt off" she grabbed the bottom hem of your shirt an pulled it of you gently , folding it up in a half assed manner and setting it on the table in front of her . It was unlike any guy you'd ever been with before . They'd practically rip your shirt off and just toss it somewhere without care . Not Tatter tho . Every moment she made , every touch was full of care . She just wanted to make you feel good .

It seemed Tatter abandoned recounting her dream as she was now kissing down on your bare chest , muttering something about being perfect under her breath. She found a sensitive spot and immediately bit down on it, forcing a moan out of you , as you ground your hips into her . She giggled her usual bubbly giggle . Her free hand brushing through your hair .

"Tatter ..." you whispered hands snaking down her neck to balance yourself as she went down your chest . Gyus would always grow and suckling on your tits ,but you never knew it could feel this good ,Tatter hand no problem sneaking her hand underneath the waistband of your underwear . That was another thing you loved about her she didn't make of of your *grandma panties* as many guys did in the past . She thought you looked hot as hell wearing anything .

" you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this , you drive me crazy " she whispered into your ear and every word rang throughout you , you could tell she meant it . Not just saying what she has to say to get you all hot and bothered .

Tatter started to pull your underwear down but you grabbed her wrist . "Hey this isn't fair ... I .... want to see you too , Tatter " you mumbled barely coherent . If she weren't right in front of you she probably wouldn't have heard it .

"Awe.. why didn't you say so soon? " she teased as you pulled off her baggy t-shirt and folded it in the sloppy way she folded yours minutes ago . She whispered sweet nothing into your ear as she again tried to push your panties down , this time you didn't stop her , shimmering them off your legs and tossing them on top of your shirt npbehind you .

Tatter slipped a hand between your folds paying extra attention to that sensitive bundle of nerves that most guys seem to never care about . It was like she knew everywhere you wanted her to touch , probably because she was also a girl ?

A finger slipping i side of you brought you back to reality and you yelped in surprise .

"Wow your so wet it just slipped right in !" Tatter giggled . You realised what she had pushed you forward so she was on top of you . She pushed her finger in deeper and somehow immediately found your g-spot . Your mind raced as she continued pushing into that spot . Unable to form a coherent sentence you spewed moans of her name and strings of curses and pleas . You knew 8f she kept this up you were gonna go fast so you decided to retaliate .

You reached down and rubbed at Tatter's clit over her panties making her flinch. "H-hey what're you doing ..?...... ahhh~ "you pulled her panties down just enough to be able to touch her directly, easily slipping your finer in just as she had .

"Wow , your so wet it just slipped right in !" You mocked her , laughing at her embarrassed face . She fought back by pushing her knee against you , pressing on your clit while her fingers stretched you out . At this point it was a game to see who would make who cum first , and you didn't plan on losing .

You were glad you had much experience masturbattjng as you did because you found her g-spot with same ease she found yours . You pushed two fingers in and out of her , hitting that sweet spot with each thrust of your hand . They way Tatter sounded as she tried to not make noise only fueled you more . The tables have turned and now you were on top of her . Tatter wrapped her arms around , nails digging into your back hard to leave marks .

"Please ...! ... AH! Fuckfuckfuck .. Too good!" She sorted into your neck . This was like nothing she had felt before . It was nowhere close to her other or even herself!" She hated this , it was so humiliating to be under you , blabbing like crazy over how good it felt . You were suppose to be the one doing that m not her..

You nipping àt her neck was enough for her to come undone around your hand with a scream she didn't know she was hoding

Seeing her pleasured face drove you over the edge and you collapsed on top of her , mumbling about how amazing that was .

After the both of you were done Tatter asked "Truth or dare" . Yoh laughed at how unserious she was but you answered .

"Truth"

"Do you love me know ?"

"Yes , yes I love you Tatter"

You both ended the night with a long passionate kiss

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Taglist : @pinkyqil @nimxie @urlovebot @ssivinee @sydnerss @sun-nyy @badaleesbish @badaspebble @badaleeswifey @badasgirlfriend @urlovebot @aericrys @aericrys @bebeyue

[stusbunker]

Tattered: Growing Pains

A SPN ABO Fan-fiction Series

Featuring: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Dean

Word Count: ~3250

Warnings, etc: Dean has discovered he’s into her being pregnant. Sam and Dean tag-team smut. Oral, knotting, there’s lots of bodily fluids, but also a bath tub. Breeding kink, possessive and jealous Alphas. Nesting, pregnancy problems.

Series Masterlist

Special shout out to @lastactiontricia​ for putting up this series the entire time.

Six months later

Dean

The thing about hearing other people’s thoughts—- or even just having their emotions running through your head, well, it makes it really fucking easy to see their point of view. Especially after sensing the way she felt about me and Sam both. So— yeah, I decided to be the bigger man. But; really, it came down to Sam accepting that, truemate or not— I was just as much her Alpha as he was.

It hasn’t been the easiest, but it sure beats the alternative.   

It's almost time to start moving into the Barn when I smell the change on her skin. Bobby and me have been busting ass all winter to get the place up to code and habitable. I didn't realize we were working on a deadline, but life’s always had a way of biting me in the ass.

       I gather her up against me, rubbing my belt against her middle as she leans back to squint at my face. "What?"

       I shake my head and go all glassy eyed on her, because she is actually glowing a little. And if she doesn't realize it yet, I'm not gonna be the one to say anything. I admit I'm slightly tickled to have this kind of secret to keep for a while. 

      Maybe even a little smug, too.

      Sam's been working with Garth and some folks on the inside at Roman Enterprises to figure out the how's and why's to zapping the fucking face-munchers back to where they came from. So far it's been all surveillance and research, but everybody knows the time to act is rapidly approaching.

        Now, we have another reason to get back home in one piece. Hell, maybe even reasons.

         "Nothing, just looking at ya."

         She rolls her eyes and swats my chest, reprimanding me. She kisses me quick, but deep and goes back to hauling in the rest of the groceries. I can't wait to see Bobby's face when he finds out he's gonna be a grandpa. 

         God, might even make him cry.

          I drive to the Barn because though the weather is finally turning for the better, it's a cakey, mucky mess out there and I don't really want to spend five minutes cleaning my boots before I get to do the final walk through.

         The plan was once the chompers were dealt with, we’d let her loose to nest. But I think it's time. Circumstances have changed. And we probably should keep her as busy as possible while she's still willing and able to put in the manual labor.

          Fuck, I wonder if Sam knows. It's not like I can hear a heartbeat yet, it's just a chemical thing. Or maybe Alpha's intuition. Who knows and I don't really care how—- I just know what I know.

          The entryway is wide and empty for now. We kept stone as the primary material for the floors, maintaining the rustic feel. But I talked Bobby into wisely installing a heating system beneath the decorative tiles. Warm and cozy like.

         The staircase is wide and angular, nothing ornate, but sturdy. The kitchen and first floor bath branch out to the right, making for a southern exposure for a lot of natural light. The den and the office/library take up the left side, which once held the farm equipment and animal stalls. 

         Bobby ensured the built-in bookshelves would make Sam pop a nerd boner.

          I take the stairs two at a time, rushing to see if I can parcel out the upstairs living quarters with some pocket doors or just keep it predominantly one large room with only single smaller rooms on each side, backed by the ensuite bathroom on one side and the walk-in closet on the other.

        I don't think we were ever gonna need this much closet space so I start measuring it out, thinking nurseries don't last forever and that eventually we'd need space for toys and then privacy after that.

        Maybe we hadn't thought this through after all. I think about calling Bobby out here, but it's probably too early to be making such adjustments.

        Should wait 'til she's been to a doctor or something. 

       Still, makes me worry that the house isn't really ready. Or that could just be me.

Two weeks later

         I get back from the hardware store just after sundown and all she's sending out is colors and WANT. Sam's easier to read, he's between her legs, the only dessert he really allows himself.

          I leave my keys on the hook by the door and unlace my boots. She's excited that I'm home. Sam's happy she's happy. He's also damn pleased with himself and I can almost smell her once I start climbing the stairs.

          I start shrugging out of my shirts as I enter our room. She's face down, ass up and Sam's on his knees, holding her open as he drags his tongue up and down her seam.

         He groans when she sees me, and I can smell how her slick is already changing.

          "Taste good, Sammy?"

          "Better than ever," he agrees, before dipping down and sucking on her clit. She squeals and fists the comforter. 

          She's got a steady chant of 'mate mate mate' going in her mind. I sidle up to the edge of the bed, let her nuzzle my junk— just to hear her purr, before I back away and undo my belt.

           She's the only one naked so far, but I'm not letting that last. I need to feel her. Fucking breed her all over again. God, she's gonna be so hot in a couple months. I can't wait to taste every inch of her, feel her thicken and plump fuller.

           She whimpers, either Sam's doing his job or she's hearing me. She likes it when our mouths are on her, especially if it's to get her open for our knots— or to clean her up afterwards.

            With her—with us it's been a little bit of everything. She wants both— she gets it.

          Sometimes she makes us watch the other, eye fucks us as she rides the other brother. She's fucking vindictive. But she knows her power, can't be angry about a confident Omega. 

          And now that she won't be needy and in heat so often—- fuck she's going to have both our balls in a vice grip.  She gasps and comes all over Sam's chin. He growls and keeps going, making her squirm until she comes again, loud and screaming his title.

           I'm stroking myself nice and lazy now, going to stretch this out. Make her a pile of sagging joints and sticky skin before calling it a night.

          "Can you smell it? What a good Omega we've got?" I ask without asking.

           "Can fucking feel ‘em in there," Sam agrees.

          I lean over the bed to where she's limp and warm. Kiss her hair and brush it back so I can get to her ear and breathe out, "you feel it, honey? Us growing inside you?"

         She whines and then asks, all sleepy, "Pups?"

         Sam and I share a look and a shit eating grin. 

        "Yeah, baby, you're fucking glowing with them," Sam confirms, hands soothing up and down her haunches.

        "No wonder you've both been so damn happy lately. And handsy," she taunts, slipping away from Sam's touch and rolling up to her pillows in the middle of the bed.

         She aint wrong. But, damn, didn’t think I was all caveman about her having kids until it actually happened. Now it’s all I can think about. I crawl after her up the bed, drag myself up her body, feeling the way she shivers from my body heat. I cage her in, box her in with my forearms and settle against the cradle of her thighs, hard and in no hurry.

She plays with my hair as I look down at her dazed expression, gather her up so I can slip my arms underneath to hold her head in both my hands. Nudge into the hair at her nape, getting her eyes to droop further closed.

“How’s my girl, huh?” I breathe against her lips as she smiles, just a hint of one really and she's reaching for a kiss. I hum against the familiar give of her mouth and drag her bottom lip in for a little nibble. 

Sam’s off in the bathroom. I can hear him rummaging around, smell the salt she likes to use as he fills up the tub. He gives me this, just holding her, feeling her soft and supple in our bed. I kiss her, smirking as she tries to make it dirtier than it needs to be.

She’s fucking perfect.

I peck my way down her chin, drag my nose up her jaw, just to lap at that spot behind her ear. She’s itching to move, I can feel the tension build as I take my time, hold her tight, pinned by my hips and elbows. 

She whines as I suck on her pulse, and sighs as I kiss it better.

Love this shit, love riling her up.

But she's sneaky, and just as I start to lick over to the other ear, she's got me in hand, clammy fingers squeezing and stroking. I gasp more than growl, of course she clocks it and fucking purrs.

"We gonna get dirty or what?" she teases.

"Don't want Sam's hardwork to go to waste," I agree, pulling her knee out and rolling my hips to really get at her. She drags up her other leg and lets me slick myself up. I tune everything else out, it’s just us right now. Just heat and wet and home. And me sinking inside her, her opening up to keep me close, and fuck it, I’m getting sappy here.

“Dean,” she moans my name, not my title, not some random endearment. My name and I just let go. I fuck her into the bed, hard and desperate, needy. All the while looking down at her, seeing her face and those eyes I can never hide from, just wrecked from it all.

Pride surges through me and I thrust deeper, letting my knot kiss her entrance, without letting it all go. I wanna keep drawing this out and if I focus on her, I won’t let her take me over the edge. I hover over completion— seeing her blissed out and mine.

So mine.

I snarl and clamp my jaw shut. Close my eyes and breathe. Force myself to use my upstairs brain and keep her throat out of my mouth. She’s mine, ours, I don’t need to reclaim her. She’s already got the best part of me anyway—- growing and safe.

My eyes snap open cuz she’s squirming to change positions, sitting us up so she’s in my lap, bouncing and kissing me all over. God, it’s perfect.

Every thrust she falls harder on my knot and I’m seeing spots, cross-eyed from the pleasure. “The water’s gonna be cold if we—,” I warn as she adds a swirl to the movement of her hips.

“Carry me,” she husks out, voice thin, but firm.

I lose it, slamming her down as my knot pummels inside her. She clutches to me with everything she has. When I can think straight, I feel myself leaking out of her, down my sapped nuts and onto the sheets and still she pulses around me, milking me for more.

I laugh and sigh, forehead on her shoulder as she wraps her arms around me and squeezes. I never want to move.

She murmurs in agreement, kissing my neck and just being that sweet side of her, the tender Omega that she kept hidden and protected for so long. I flex my toes behind her and start scooting us to the edge of the bed. 

Sammmy’s been patiently waiting in the ensuite and I really should thank him. Maybe even ask for a spotter, but I manage to stand with her locked around me, her arms like snakes wrapping around my head. With every step I tug against her internal grip and we’re both whining at the strain by the time we reach the tub.

Sam’s shaking his hair out from a shower, and I make a point of not noticing his unsatisfied knot while I try to set her on the edge of the tub. Sam does a good job of suppressing his jealousy around me, but I always know. And it’s not personal, we’re beyond that. It still happens. 

“Don’t look at me like that, it was her idea,” I gripe, trying not to rip out of her as I bend at the knees.

Sam huffs, probably giving her a bitch face, but she just shrugs and gasps as I step carefully into the tub.

“Easy,” Sam warns, like I’m not fucking going slow and steady.

She hugs me tighter, and I feel more of our juices slide down my thigh. Sam’s at her back now, holding her shoulders as I lift my other leg and twist us into the steaming water. We go down with a huge splash, but no one’s bleeding. So there’s that.

She sags against my chest, just letting herself relax with the warmth.

“Thanks, Alpha,” she says and we all know she means Sam.

Sam hums and pulls her hair out of the knot she had on top of her head, rubbing gently at her scalp. I never figured out how he does it without hurting her, but maybe it’s a trick having stupidly long hair taught him. Maybe he’s just got a better angle from space.

She sighs into his touch and smiles up at him with closed eyes. He bends down and kisses her. And I’m just a chair at this point.

Okay, maybe Sam’s not the only one who gets jealous.

I rub her thighs and use my fingertips to scrub our efforts off her skin. When my knot starts to soften, she leans back and gets her hair wet. That’s when Sam gives in and joins us in the tub. More water gushes over the sides, but I installed the walk-in shower at a pitch, the drain’ll do its job.

We take turns cleaning her off, and she takes turns kissing us stupid. We whisper sweet nothings about her body, our pups, the way she smells. I’ve never been so damn happy in my whole life.

Of course, it can’t last.

 READER

What no one tells you about morning sickness is that morning has NOTHING to do with it. It’s like nausea for being hungry, your body is YELLING for nutrients in a more drastic way. Or at least that’s what I’ve been dealing with for the past six weeks since we figured out what we got ourselves into.

It’s been fine, really. I mean, I knew it was inevitable. The chance of birth control standing up against two claims and ALL that sex was pretty much wishful thinking at this point.

It’s just, we’re still on high alert with the Leviathans. 

Dean’s letting me decorate the nursery, which is really just a branched off nook to the master bedroom. I still can’t believe all the work he and Bobby did to make this place so gorgeous. It makes me a little weepy just thinking about it too long, honestly. But don’t tell either of them, because they get all smug and start primping about their skills.

Yes, both of them.

Then there’s Sam. Who has, by far, been the worst. He checks my vitals, scents me constantly and has read more about the birthing process than probably half of the medical field. He’s relentless about my diet, my hydration, even my generally chaotic sleep schedule. If his protectiveness wasn’t so hot— I’d have stabbed him by now. 

I still come pretty close when he raises his eyebrows when I sneak a sweet or two.

Dean’s on my side though, so tough titties for Sam.

I’m walking barefoot between our room and the babies’, relishing in the feel of the transition from reclaimed wooden floorboards to the cushy give of the soft gray carpeting.

I’m measuring the windows for curtains when the first pain shoots down my side, as quick and centralized as a ripped off bandage. I gasp and pull my arms down, rubbing the area through my shirt. It ebbs before I really think about it, moving on to the next wall where it’s a double window looking out towards the long forgotten cornfields.

It’s warm on the second floor this time of year, and we’re not around enough to leave the air conditioning on yet. So I huff a little and write down the width and height before stepping back and surveying the space. Blinds and curtains or just curtains?

I’ve never had my own space like this— never been able to choose how it takes shape. Another gift this house gives me. And I’ve found so many already: stability and hope, space and privacy, freedom, but mostly it gives us roots. 

A true homebase.

A sense of safety and rightness has begun to creep into the everyday. My reflexes are slowing, even though I’m still on my feet and ready to assist on a hunt at a moment’s notice. Not that they’d let me in the field, now. Assholes. But I feel the ways I’m changing— we’re changing and I can’t really complain about the softer edges to us all.

I get another spasm just before dinner, nothing quite as alarming, but this one holds out longer. I’m rubbing my side again when Sam comes in with the bag of Chinese. Dean’s right behind him with a case of gatorade and a six pack. 

Both of them gawk at me and I roll my eyes, take a deep breath and let them settle themselves down. One tiny bit of pain is not the crisis they’re thinking it is.

I take the bag out of Sam’s massive hand and start setting the white cartons out on the table. Worrywarts.

Bobby

The doctors can’t figure out what’s wrong. Something about weird body chemistry or mixed results from all the damn tests they’ve put her through the last week and a half. They’ve got her in a room, hooked up to monitors and saline drips. And still she’s struggling to keep a steady heartbeat. And the pups— well, they’re monitoring them too.

She won’t let me tell the boys. Not until we know something. But every instinct in me is screaming that those idjits need to be here for her, should be the ones holding her hand and getting the doctors to listen right.

I’m not her dad, but I’m the pack Alpha. I gotta do something.

They better just finish the Leviathans once and for all, because I’m not sitting on the bench for my health here. She’s been quiet today, pensive. Almost like when she was a kid.

Or younger. I didn’t know her like that until she was already hunting, damnit, in a way that these kids were never kids.

We’re not letting that happen again. Not if we can help it. I tell her I’m grabbing a coffee, promise to bring her something from the cafeteria. Just need to stretch my legs and get out of  my head. 

Make some calls.

Because we know a thing or two about things that these white coats don’t. And I’ll be damned if I let my girl go down without checking out every stop along the way.

Tell me what you think?

Tagging:  @idreamofdeanie​ @stoneyggirl2 @delightfullykrispypeach​ ��  @dolphincliffs​ @flamencodiva​ @crashdevlin​ @dontshootmespence​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​  @rockhoochie​ @dawnie1988 @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @foxyjwls007 @tumbler-tidbits @defenderrosetyler​ @ericaprice2008  @wingedcatninja​ @akshi8278 @itmighthavebeenintentional​ @smi727​ @princessmisery666​​ @impalaslytherin​​

Read On: Chapter 9: The Prodigal’s Redemption

[abookwormguidetoagoodread]

This is your only warning, Scarlett. I won’t settle for ‘first.’ I’ll be your only. Nothing less.

- Phantom (Tattered Curtain, #1), Greer Rivers.

[mikaleialt]

MASTERLIST

🩵 - Bada Lee

❤️ - Minah Lee

💛 - Kim Taeyoung/Tatter

Writing for Team Bebe only, request more Bebe members please

Series:

Secret Love Song

Pt.2 🩵

Little Moments

Pt.2 ?? 🩵

One-Shots:

BMW | TATTER VER.

Smut, Suggestive 🩵💛

Caught in 4k

Fluff 🩵

The Reveal

Crack, (made for Eli @/badasgirlfriend) 🩵

Stolen Hoodie|Halloween Special

Collab with Eli @badasgirlfriend , smut 🩵

Captured Hearts

Suggestive, fluff (request) 🩵

Ride it!

Fluff, suggestive, smut 🩵

Coming Back To You

Angst, smut, fluff ❤️

Girlfriend

Suggestive, smut 🩵

[chuluoyi]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, kinda slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, divorce, marriage of convenience, heavy pining (from gojo's part), childhood friends trope, mentions of infidelity, misogyny, infertility, explicit smut

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress (but i promise you, it's different). my god, for the past month this is all i can think about *sobs* wc. 10.5k ! this is the longest thing i've ever posted here, and if you'd give it a chance, then i'll be really, really thankful!

credit header goes to @/gojokko in twitter!

next. the crown of diamonds | long live the empire

general masterlist | series masterlist

“I accept the divorce.”

Your perfect life was done for. Everything you had worked hard towards— it was now in shambles and tatters.

You, an ethereal, revered empress... someone untarnished in the face of public and private, had just agreed to the emperor’s blatant request of separation.

“My god... how can this be!?”

“Your Majesty! Please reconsider!”

Emperor Zen’in Naoya of the Eastern Empire, your husband—and companion for more than ten years—smirked as he looked down at you, paying zero attention to the uproar in this courthouse.

But then you heard that kind, velvety voice from the back of your head:

“If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

This place has turned into a whopping circus ever since you and Naoya stepped inside anyway. And so, having nothing worthy left to lose, you declared, “And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage.”

Your boldness once again stirred a wave of clamor among the crowd, and even Naoya was glaring at you in disbelief now. “A remarriage…? How dare you—!”

“Well... is it the time for my grand entrance?”

Deep from behind the curtains, suddenly he emerged, dressed in the most lavish robes befitting his own throne, outshining everyone in the room as if he was the one owning the place.

“Heh.” His low chuckle stunned even the mass as he took big strides towards where you were.

This would seal your fate. From now onwards, you would no longer be the perfect empress. Your messy divorce and remarriage will relegate that image to history.

“My goodness, that’s…” the woman in the front gasped. “Western Empire’s…”

“Gojo… Satoru?” Naoya's eyes lit with genuine fury as the other man took his place by your side. “You couldn't possibly mean…!”

You interrupted him regally. “Yes, he is the man I wish to remarry.”

This event was going to blow up tomorrow, with scandalous titles no less than The Deposed Empress Remarries! And there was no going back, ever.

How did your pristine life turn into such a shameful debacle? None of these turn of events would be imaginable for you several years prior...

SATORU, THE CROWN PRINCE OF WESTERN EMPIRE

To Satoru, you were more than just the east’s breathtaking empress—you had captured his attention long before you ascended to that role.

Seven years ago, you were the renowned noble lady, the paragon of perfection sought after by many lords and monarchs alike.

You were both cunning and fair, pretty in the face, came from an illustrious family known for birthing famous empresses in either western and eastern empires. You were the quintessential template that mothers advised their sons to seek in a wife.

The fairest in the land—that was how people called you. And Gojo Satoru is always and only interested in the best.

“Suguru... look at her.” His eyes would soften at the sight of you as he nudged at his closest ally and confidant, the duke. “She is so... pretty, isn’t she?”

Unfortunately, you had been promised to the Eastern Empire’s crown prince from a long time ago too. There was little that the outsiders, including himself—even if he was the heir apparent to his own throne—could do to sway your heart.

“There's more to women than their faces, Satoru,” Suguru sighed, thinking that what he had was a mere lust. “Moreover, she’s engaged to the Zen’in... and they have a very good relationship. Nothing you can do about that.”

“Hmph.”

To be honest, he couldn’t fathom what you could possibly like about that murderous Zen’in spawn. He was a pompous human being, no less.

How on earth could you stand someone like that? Satoru had always wondered… especially when it was well-known to the land that you and him were on good terms despite your arranged marriage.

—and once, he thought he knew who you are…

. . .

Satoru swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat as he attended the royal wedding of you and Zen’in Naoya. Despite hating the circumstances, he had to admit it was a fairytale wedding—albeit with the wrong groom.

You were the epitome of picture book princess. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the attendees of your wedding.

Oh, and he made headlines too, that day—

“My princess, may I have this dance?”

Two hours hadn’t even passed by after you swore your vows as Naoya’s bride, and there he was, asking for your first dance, in your own wedding ball, right in front of your newly wedded husband.

Everyone bet on you turning him down and making a fool of himself, but instead, to spare his feelings, you put your delicate hand in his, and with a wide, shy smile, you said, “Yes.”

Satoru thought it was his greatest achievement then. To have made Naoya red-faced, to have made him watch as he put his hands on your waist, twirl you around— and come one breath away from your face.

“Princess, you’re…” his breath caught as he pulled you close, staring straight at your face—and suddenly he felt like life was so unfair to him as the slow melody of waltz was all he could hear.

How could you be this close... and yet so far by being somebody else’s wife?

And yet he forced the words out, with sincerity he had never showed anyone else before, even as his heart bled and shattered. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”

Your eyes widened, sparkling with wonder, before you thanked him with the loveliest of smiles. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”

Satoru was certain... you had ruined him, because no one else would ever be able to turn his world with just a smile like you did, even as you broke his heart too into a million pieces.

. . .

Ever since that day, everyone had branded him as a prince in search of scandal—coveting the princess married to Zen’in clan.

What everyone didn’t know was that it went beyond that. His obsession of you went beyond your beauty and charms and wits. Rather, it goes a long way back.

YOU, THE CROWN PRINCESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

As inconceivable as it was, once upon a time, you and Naoya were a truly, happy couple.

Handpicked by the late emperor to become his son’s wife, you couldn’t be more proud. With you being the next empress of the Eastern Empire, your clan once again proved itself that it was always worthy of a seat in the monarchy.

But beyond that, you were elated that it was Naoya that you ended up marrying. Your own childhood friend, who often led you around his palace by hand and filled your days with many joy and laughs.

“One day soon, when we are the emperor and the empress—” younger Naoya was always someone who had big dreams about ruling his nation. “We will create a nation in which no one can do anything as they please! We’ll establish order, and anyone who goes against it will be punished! That way, it’ll encourage fairness!”

Not knowing it yourself, you had given your heart wholly to him. You had agreed to all his dreams and visions. You devoted yourself to them all, even more so after your marriage and coronation, as he promised you an ever after.

“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”

YOU, THE EMPRESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

“Your role is to give an heir to the throne, Empress.”

Your title had never sounded so heavy to you before now, especially when Naoya was the one saying it.

You sighed, gathering your wits and scattered feelings before levelling your calm gaze on your husband. “I understand that, Your Majesty. But it is not something that I can do on my own.”

This year would mark the fifth year of your marriage to Naoya. You understood that the fact you still weren’t able to be with his child would raise questions from the court, but still, must you be reminded of this fact over and over?

Your husband—no, the emperor—barked a satire laugh.

“Oh, really? As I understand it, being infertile is not something I can help you with.”

That hurt. It was a searing pain, like being branded with a red-hot iron. And it felt as if he had torn through your chest with his fist alone.

“I’m not infertile.” Your eyes gleamed with pure defiance as you lifted your chin, facing him in his audience chamber.

It dawned on you that lately, one of the few ways you could speak to him was by requesting an audience as opposed to your usual midnight talks in your private chambers.

When did it start to change? Or was Naoya this kind of person right from the very beginning and you were just blinded by love back then?

"Oh? And what would you call being childless for five years then?" Naoya sneered at you from his dais, placing one hand on his jaw. "Bad luck? You must be terribly cursed with misfortune then."

You fisted your dress, summoning all your strength to hold back tears. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him.

It wasn't as if you didn't want to carry his heir. For many women, holding their baby in their arms is a cherished dream, and when they hold a position of power like yours, it becomes not just a desire but a duty.

You tried everything—calling in the best doctors, consuming horrible potions, even consulting with the oracle. And they all said you were perfectly healthy and fine. You were at your wits end too.

The irony. You were celebrated in public for your competence, while privately, you suffered your husband's cold detachment and cruel remarks.

. . .

"Empress, where should we put the welcome gifts?"

You studied the floor plan of the banquet hall for your annual New Year's ball with a thoughtful hum before pointing at the entrance.

"Place it here. We want our guests to know that we are generous, and it's easily accessible since the parlor is the first area they reach after arriving."

You loved planning festivities. It was therapeutic in a way, and it gave you little time to think of anything else.

"Oh, and I want to have a welcome arch and flowers placed at the entrance too. This is the grandest event of the year, second only to the Emperor's birthday... we must display the grandeur that befits such an occasion."

Your head maidservant, Hanabi, placed a hand on her abdomen and nodded with a warm smile. "That's a very clever suggestion, Your Majesty! I'll ensure they arrange everything just as you wish!"

As she scurried away, you watched her with an assessing gaze. Hanabi had been with you throughout the five years of your marriage, always at your side, assisting with day-to-day matters and serving as your confidant. She was a great aide.

And you were observant by nature... so of course you noticed things.

...and if you were correct, then she was most definitely with a child.

The thing is... she is unmarried. You hesitated to jump to conclusions without evidence, yet the timing struck you as more than coincidental—it nagged at you for weeks now, suggesting a connection you hoped did not exist.

Because if they really did... then...

You didn't dare to think, because it would be more than a nightmare. But you weren't able to let this go either, so you did what was necessary.

You planted a note in Hanabi's chamber, and then you waited in the gardens, the chilly midnight air wrapping around you like a shroud.

You had done everything you could. Five years ago, you let go of everything and had decided to spend your life with your first love—Naoya.

Because you truly and devotedly love him. You give your all for him—for your life together.

"Ooh, Your Majesty~! It's so cold out here, why not in our usual—"

Hanabi's voice faltered as soon as she saw your crimson gown, feeling like the world had collapsed on her. And you rigidly turned towards her, feeling more or less the same.

And yet, what you had received from him is the greatest betrayal.

SATORU, THE EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE

He first realized something was clearly wrong with you during the New Year’s ball that you hosted.

Satoru had just been crowned emperor during this time, and though rulers typically sent envoys to such grand celebrations due to concurrent festivities in their own lands, it had been several months since he last saw you. He wants to see you.

A meritless action, but he wanted to, regardless.

But that day, you were a fantastic actress in this stage called banquet hall and nobody was the wiser… but he would know, because you mattered a lot to him.

"Your Majesty, you don't seem well." He approached you with a glass of champagne, affixing a friendly smile. "Is there anything amiss?"

Taken aback, you didn't expect such close proximity that you took a step back. His smile almost faltered, but he kept it up.

"Emperor Satoru—"

"Ah, none of that, no. Address me just as you usually do, hmm?"

A smile finally tugged at your lips. "How is that fair, when you address me so formally?"

Satoru chuckled. "You, my queen, deserve all the finery and grandeur there is. And I will see to it that you do."

That was his nickname for you ever since you ascended the throne. Both of your countries refer you as “empress”, but he loves addressing you as “queen” instead.

There was a shift in your expression, and he thought you looked melancholic. It bothered him, stirring a desire to erase that somber look from you. Because above anything and everything, you had to be happy and smiling.

"You're still a flirt, I see, Satoru," you remarked, throwing him a soft smile. "It won't do you good if you're seen with me most of the time, you know."

No, I’m doing this just for you. He wanted to tell you that, but he sighed instead. "You've got it wrong. When I'm in the company of the most beautiful woman in the lands, what's there to be ashamed of?"

Perhaps hearing that finally melted you a bit as you freely giggled this time, and Satoru was glad that he made you laugh even a little.

"You would think that, huh..." you fondly mumbled. And then your expression crumbled, and he could've sworn something painful flashed in your eyes—

What happened to you? He so desperately wanted to ask, but then he saw that preying gaze on both of you. Zen’in Naoya. Satoru clicked his tongue as he watched him weave through the crowd, his gaze locked ominously on both of you.

“Seems like we don’t have much time, after all,” he began, urgency sharpening his words. “But rest assured, whenever you want to talk to me, just send a little birdie my way and I shall answer.”

“Huh?” you blinked at him questioningly, totally not getting what he meant.

He winked, then took your hand and placed a kiss on it, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the crowd at his bold gesture. “And chin up, my queen. You have nothing to fear, and if it makes you feel better...”

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “To me, a diamond is most beautiful. And you… are one that sparkles above all.”

“Naoya, unhand me this instant!”

You were tired of this shit, of Naoya always manhandling you—of him always having a total control over you.

After seeing how close you got to Satoru, Naoya practically saw red. Still, in the prying eyes of public, he remained unperturbed, but his vice-like grip on your arm was sure to leave bruise as he unkindly led you out of the ballroom.

"Naoya!" you raised your voice this time, even louder than before, uncaring even when the wandering eyes of the servants curiously followed the two of you.

You were not made an empress just to follow him. And with that conviction, you forcibly pulled your arm away from his grip right after he shut the door to the drawing room close, not even wincing at the stinging feeling.

His eyes shone with anger. “You insolent—!”

“No—” You stood your ground, and suddenly you got very irate and burst out, “How dare you, Zen’in Naoya!”

He looked at you with equal surprise and mortification, clearly unprepared for your righteous tirade.

"You have made a mockery of our marriage! You have insulted me and your own throne by carrying on with— with the help! My maid!" you screamed at his face, pure anger coursing through your veins. "How could you!?"

Naoya took in your outburst with eerie silence, a sneer slowly forming on his lips. "You get riled up over that? Have you forgotten emperors are free to take mistresses, especially when the empress isn't capable to bear any heirs?"

A burning arrow shot straight to your heart at his response but you willed yourself not to show it. "Regardless, you could've done better and not put our throne to shame by fucking a servant."

"I've told you time and time again. A woman's duty is to bear children, and since you've proven yourself beyond barren, I did you a favor."

"A favor...?"

"As soon as Hanabi births that child, you can raise him as your own," Naoya frankly stated unabashedly, as if proud with his idea. "Saves you the trouble and I get my heir, a win-win solution, no?"

Raise him as my own...? Saves the trouble? You could've sworn that throughout your entire life, you had never been so insulted before now, right in this moment.

"What I do, I always have my throne in mind. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed into unsatisfied slits. "What are you trying to achieve by whoring yourself to that rake, Gojo Satoru? Are you telling people of the ton that you're having an affair?"

His voice made you want to throw up. The realization that everything you thought you had together might have meant nothing to him at all made you feel sick.

And so, hiding your trembling hands and swallowing you unshed tears, you responded to him with a clipped tone—

"You're most despicable, Naoya. And you are a complete fool if you think even for a second that I'd want to raise your bastard!"

He seemed taken aback by your rejection, but you didn't falter. "And oh, since you want to make use of that lowly maid so much, feel free to take her back and track her down yourself, because I've sent that wench away."

With that, you turned your back on him, striding out with your head held high, even as your life crumbled into dust.

Days after your full-blown argument with Naoya, your situation only worsened. By now, even the palace servants knew you had incurred his wrath, while Hanabi had won his favor by carrying his child—possibly the heir to the throne.

The child she was carrying was no threat to your position. After all, you were the empress. A child of your blood would trample over any bastard.

However, you'd be damned if you shared a bed with him again, and Naoya made it clear that his mistress would be elevated to the rank of royal consort. Given the current trajectory—and history's tendency to repeat itself—emperors often divorced or banished their empresses in favor of their mistresses.

Bah. You could only scoff at your laughable predicament. You came from a prestigious clan and were revered, yet now you were no more than a scorned woman.

Dark thoughts consumed your mind for a time—you couldn't deny that you had considered leaving the palace for self-imposed exile or even ending your life. However, reason always prevailed.

You wouldn't give Naoya what he wanted most: your compliance. And around the time when you resolved to do that, a finely decorated envelope arrived at your study, with no signature whatsoever.

Intrigued, you opened it to find an intricate dried rose bookmark and a folded letter nestled inside.

Greetings to you, my queen. Yeah, it's me. Hope you won't be too surprised. But if you do, know that I always mean well.

Satoru. You weren't expecting this. A small smile tugged at your lips. How long had it been since you last smiled so freely?

I've heard you love reading, hence the bookmark. Fun fact: I made it myself, with Shoko's help. She is sooo bad at explaining though so if the flower is wrinkled... please blame her.

This time, you giggled. He was an emperor, for god's sake. Should someone of his station write so informally like this?

Now... I'm no oracle, but even I know that you must be having bad days. And so, let me entertain you with several tales from my kingdom. So, the other day, my good friend Suguru, the duke—you must've heard of him surely (they said he is the most handsome bachelor in the West but they must be missing an eye for saying so because clearly I'm more!)—just fired a pair of his servants because he caught them in a thirst! He is so uptight! Why can't he let two people in love be!?

Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling at the lines upon lines of anecdotes Satoru had penned in the letter. The way he wrote, it was as if he was right here, saying all of this to you in real-time. For a while, you were completely absorbed in the world of the Western Empire he described, and all your worries and anxieties seemed to fade away.

Okay, that's it for now. This is just a teaser actually, so if you want to subscribe to more tales of my humble little country, you can always be my empress reply to this letter! :D Look out for a white cat near your windowsill during the hour of snake—he is my trained pet, and put your message in his little backpack. Don't worry, he's cute and doesn't bite!

You were so giddy by the end. His message warmed your heart so much that your eyes grew misty. In the aftermath of Naoya's betrayal, you were certain your life would be filled with much sadness to come.

Yet, your friendship with Satoru might just be the thing that would save you.

No matter how much his friends Duke Geto and Countess Shoko urged him to see reason—that you were no longer available and occupied with your duties as the empress of your own empire—Satoru couldn't help but still cast an eye your way.

You were clearly unhappy, and to him, someone as radiant as you should be happy.

And so, that was why he took his quill and started writing that letter to be sent to your place, along with a rose strapped inside.

He knew that, being the kind person you were, you would most likely respond, but still, the moment his cat arrived back with your reply, he was elated beyond measure.

Of course I knew it right away! I omitted your name because who knows who might catch your cat on the way. Anyway, I hope Mr. Cat will arrive back to you safe and sound. Firstly, thank you for your letter. I must say I'm so happy to receive it :) I haven't had best days so reading it made me smile. And secondly, of course I'll subscribe to your stories of Western Empire. I've been wanting to visit it myself but just haven't gotten the chance to... so if you will continue it, I shall be happy to read :D

If anything he wrote brought you joy, then Satoru was content. He had achieved his goal then.

And it was his own little secret that... by corresponding with you, it allowed him to savor the feeling of having you as his own, if only through words.

Mr. Cat's name is Sugu-chan after Suguru but you can call him whatever you wish. And don't worry, he is strong and can fight if necessary! And don't be too formal with me, my queen. We have known each other forever. Anyway do tell me, what is your favorite color now? Let me guess, is it still that specific shade of crimson?

You name your cat after your best friend...? And you're making it hard for me to be less formal when you always address me as queen! Hmm, I suppose so. I love burgundy. I've even had my study designed with that exact color scheme. It just gives me the confidence I need, you know.

So you still love burgundy... I'll keep that in mind ;) Frankly, any shade of crimson suits you—you're always a vision in them. Back then and especially during your coronation. I love blue, so I think we're a match? :D

Back then...? Hmm, surprisingly yes, red and blue would make a good match... Anyway, I believe you promised me unusual tales from your 'humble little country', so please indulge me!

You've forgotten it already? Around the time we first met, back when I was still known as "the cursed prince"? It holds such importance for me but sadly it seems like it was just a passing moment to you :( Oh, yeah, I haven't forgotten about it! So, this time let me tell you about the time when Earl Nanami got wasted . . .

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Amidst the turmoil of your marriage, exchanging letters with Satoru became your sole respite. His stories regarding his own empire amused you, and sometimes it got you to wonder what it was like to live there.

However, running away from your problems would never solve them. Writing to Satoru may have helped you to cope, but still, your real issue with Naoya wouldn't vanish simply just by ignoring him.

. . .

"Your Majesty..."

For a good one minute, you stood still. Your lady-in-waiting had delivered an earth-shattering news—but admittedly, a possibility you thought was in the cards the moment you went against Naoya.

"His majesty has summoned the high priest to his study," the elderly woman added, close to tears. "But it is very likely that he has submitted the petition for—" her voice faltered when she caught sight of the emptiness in your eyes, unable to continue.

A divorce. Naoya had been considering a divorce. And by now, he was set on it.

"I'm so, so sorry..." she choked out, her voice breaking with sorrow to mourn you, but you remained expressionless, lost in your thoughts.

The last time an empress of Eastern Empire was divorced was more or less a century ago, because she had committed a grave treachery against a royal consort by poisoning her. She was sentenced to death by hanging afterwards.

The irony. You were in similar situation, only that you weren't vengeful enough to resort to poisoning Hanabi. Speaking of her, her baby was due in another four months, and now she was living happily in Naoya's quarters.

"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine."

To consolidate his illegitimate child's position, Naoya used the most effective way. Since you wouldn't listen to him, and Hanabi must be a far delightful companion rather than you, he was more than willing to cast you aside in favor of making her his empress instead.

You thought it would hurt more, and yet what you felt the most right in this moment was white-hot anger. This is unacceptable. It was the greatest insult to you both as a woman and as the empress.

Now, all you could think of was how to uphold your dignity and plot your exit from this palace with your head still held high.

If I can't be the empress here...

And after a sleepless night, you came to a daring solution. And your plan—

...I'll be one somewhere else.

It was an invitation, Satoru thought, almost in disbelief. Or it sounded a lot like one, didn't it?

Heart beating a little faster and blushing, he reread the latest letter you had sent him.

It's only the beginning of summer, and the heat is sweltering... I'm considering treating myself to a trip to the winery village on the border between the east and west. I think it'll be nice if I have a companion...

Winery village was right in the middle of the western and eastern empires, and it was a safe zone. Vineyards were vast and thick, but it wasn't exactly a popular vacation spot. So, it intrigued him why you would want to go there.

Just as he was about to reply to you that it was a very good coincidence that he too wanted to pay a visit to the said village, suddenly—

"Gojo! Gojoooo!" Shoko suddenly burst into his study, startling him.

"Shoko! What the heck?!"

Lady Shoko might be a countess, but she, Satoru, and Suguru all attended the same royal academy. Despite their prestigious titles now, Satoru insisted that in private, both Suguru and Shoko address him just as they did before he ascended the throne.

Still, she was ruder than Suguru in many ways. Satoru gave her a stink eye, but his confusion grew as she seemed to be delivering momentous news.

"Gojo, have you heard that Naoya will divorce Y/N?!"

"Wha?" it felt like a ton of bricks suddenly fell down on his head. And then his friend proceeded to tell him everything she knew.

"It wasn't made official yet, but even the townsfolk have been talking about it. They also said that Naoya have taken a mistress, and that she was formerly the empress' maid."

Satoru listened to her in silence, but the moment he heard that the Zen'in spawn planned to divorce you, anger flared within him. And to add insult to injury, he two-timed you with a servant?

The fucking bastard. He never deserved you at all. How crushed must you have been, enduring all this shit?

"Now, I wouldn't normally encourage you this," Shoko took out the cigarette she stashed in the folds of her dress and sighed. "But since you never let go of that weird fixation on her, should the royal divorce happen..." she shrugged as she took a seat in front of him.

"No matter how laughable it is, you might have a chance."

She is so right. These long years of longing for your affections and dreaming of having even a minute more of your time... there was now chance to turn it to reality.

When you arrived at the winery village for your vacation to breathe in some fresh air, honestly, everything was still in shambles.

You couldn't forget the horrified looks from the court when Naoya announced the divorce. Most were shocked and pleaded with him to reconsider. Some from your circle of ladies even sobbed, openly stating that you didn't deserve this fate.

“Empress... His Majesty shouldn't be that harsh...” Hanabi had said to you afterwards, seemingly concerned for you. “Your legacy here… I’ll make sure to carry them on.”

Sometimes you didn’t know whether Hanabi was pretending to be dumb or indeed she was. One thing you knew though...

“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi.” You looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice. “Beware, the Emperor is fickle, be sure to not run out of entertainments.”

You knew you deserved a better fate than being the empress of the Eastern Empire, but seeing those who still cared for you made you solemn. Your loyal maids, those who supported you... and what about organizations you've spent time and energy to?

“My queen, ah, there you are.”

Satoru's voice from behind startled you, interrupting your daydreams. He quickly came beside you and extended his hand, asking for yours.

You offered him your right hand, and he promptly pressed a kiss on it, his bright blue eyes gazing up at you.

It wasn't as if you just noticed how pretty his eyes were, but now that there was no ballroom and scrutinizing eyes around you, you couldn't deny that the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed at you—solely and purely on you—made you breathless.

What... would it be like to have this man... to be your husband instead?

"I missed you. I know we talk daily through letters, but seeing your beauty firsthand is always a sight for sore eyes," he cheekily commented as he let go of your hand. "Now, I get to see you without your pesky husband around, and yeah, you never fail to make my silly heart race."

You chuckled. "You always flatter me..."

He only gave you a toothy smile, and you two strolled the vineyard. For a while, you talked about nothing of importance, like where your ladies-in-waiting were, how things were from his side.

"How do you find being the emperor?"

"It's tiring! It's boring too to look through accounts and oversee those trivial state affairs! And not to mention how many people have been nagging me to take a wife soon!"

"Oh? You haven't been on the lookout already?"

"Nah. No one is good enough, I need someone already familiar with state affairs and such," he said, wrinkling his nose sourly at the thought. But then he cast his eyes on you.

"And frankly, you are my standard," he fixed you a meaningful smile. "No one comes close. If you weren't betrothed to the Zen'in back then, I'd have proposed you in a heartbeat."

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your dead heart suddenly came to life. Gojo Satoru had just confessed his affections for you so candidly, and it got you thinking how much easier your life would be with him. He would love you, take care of you...

And beguile you.

His eyes fondly crinkled at you. "You are everything I desire in a woman to be my wife."

He adores you so easily, so fluidly... and yet, Naoya, who has you fully, is throwing you away.

Satoru observed how your face fell once again, just as it had during the New Year's ball. And now he knew, it was because you were facing your impending divorce.

But he wasn't going to tell you that, instead, he would willingly be your confidant and offer you his very being. He was about to crack a joke to lift your spirits, when you blurted—

"What if I said... I want to be your empress?" you kept your pace, not looking at him at all. "What if I said... I'll leave everything and come to you?"

Huh? What…?

That was loaded. Have you entertained the thought too? Satoru had craved the very idea for so long he didn’t even miss a beat—

“Then I’d marry you.” His voice was straight and true, shooting straight to the most tender part of you that Naoya had torn to shreds. “If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

No hesitation. It almost reduced you to tears. You stopped where you stood, willing yourself not to tremble. There is still one person who sees this much value in you.

“Then I’ll be yours,” you breathed out. “I’ll be your empress, Satoru.”

Satoru could've sworn time had stopped. If one moment ago, you looked like you were about to shatter, now you were a vision of the dignified and perfect queen he had always known you were.

“I’ll be your queen— your everything.” You declared, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze not escaping him.

How many years had he dreamed of this moment? How many long nights had he endured, yearning for you, knowing you were beyond his reach?

Finally, finally... Satoru grinned, swearing to all the divine beings out there that he had never known how liberating it was to finally have what he wanted. “That would be my greatest honor.”

He drew you close—you let him—and after one second of taking in your enchanting eyes, he crashed his lips against yours.

His lips started soft and gentle, then became fiery as his tongue met yours. He pulled you closer, one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head. You responded eagerly, pressing against him, fingers tracing his neck and feeling the lines of his undercut.

One is finally having the woman he had wanted for so long, and the other was plotting her escape from her misery.

You were using him. He knew it. Yet, he didn't care. Hidden behind bushes and vines, you shared your very first heated kiss, aware that this moment would leave its mark as both the greatest stain and triumph in your lives.

And when he finally pulled away, lips swollen and wet, with a wolfish grin, he promised you once again—

“Give me everything that is yours... and I swear on my life, I will do everything to turn your life into a living dream.”

“Empress, your husband His Majesty the Emperor, has requested a divorce.”

It was how your once pristine life transformed into the scandal of the century inside the courthouse.

"If you accept this petition, then you will no longer be the Empress of Eastern Empire. You will lose all the rights you have as a senior member of the imperial family..."

You donned your finest attire—the intricate crimson and black dress you had designed and commissioned the dressmaker to create. Today, faced with Naoya's divorce decree, it would be the last time you adorned the colors of his empire.

"The ties that bound you together as husband and wife would be severed—"

Good riddance, you thought.

"If this is not what you want, you have the right to—"

"I accept the divorce."

Your voice cut through the heavy solemness of the witnesses and turned them into a mass of disbelief. You disregarded Naoya's smirk and held the priest's gaze. "And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage."

The crowd was in for a second wave of uproar when you boldly stood your ground, and they erupted into clamors once again when Satoru made his grand entrance and took his place beside you.

"You—!" Naoya was so furious that he roared. "This is my empire!"

"And?" Satoru challenged with a dauntless smile. "I'm here to propose, and since she accepts your divorce request, I believe she has no relations with you any longer and is free to marry someone else."

You remained motionless, until your cold fingers met warmth when Satoru linked his hand with yours reassuringly.

"This is treachery! I won't fucking permit it!" Naoya hollered as he faced the high priest, who had a grim face while observing this three-way headlock between the three of you.

"Emperor Naoya, that matter falls into the jurisdiction of the church." The high priest let out a sigh and then turned to you, assessing your calm gaze.

Regardless, Naoya paid him no mind. "I refuse to grant you any permission to remarry! You will be banished to the cold palace until the rest of your pitiful days! Not only do you fail miserably by being barren beyond help, you also dare to whore yourself—" he was now rambling curses at you before everyone in the court, and it pierced you deeply—

Until Satoru tugged you behind him, so that you wouldn't have to see his face any longer.

"High priest!" Satoru's voice blared as he clenched his jaw, irate at the string of profanities directed at you. "Do you still truly believe that the deposed empress can't remarry? When she has suffered through this man's downright betrayal?"

Your head was spinning. You wanted this whole ordeal to be over already.

And thankfully, even the high priest saw reason, that you were undeserving of this debacle. In the end, his words held more weight than anyone else's, even Naoya's.

"I accept Empress Y/N petition to marry Emperor Satoru!"

In the chaos of the courthouse after the high priest granted your wish, Naoya shook his head in disbelief, looking at both of you with intense disdain.

"You've always wanted that wench, haven't you, Gojo?" Naoya cackled with a malice you would never have expected from someone who had been your husband for ten years.

You had tuned out all the noise. This dumpster fire was too much even for you. But then, you felt a strong arm enveloping you, sealing your fate as the match made in this courtroom—

"I have, yeah," Satoru replied with a smug grin. "And now that she is mine... it's just the beginning of your downfall, Zen'in."

Your wedding banquet in Western Empire lasted a week long.

True to his promise, Satoru spared no effort to make you happy. The moment he brought you to his palace, he ordered immediate plans for wedding celebrations. Make it grand, make it unforgettable... he took charge himself.

And on the final, seventh day, as you were about to be formally crowned as the empress of the western lands, you were stunned.

"This is your coronation dress, Empress," your new lady-in-waiting, Shoko, said with pride. "Gojo— I mean, His Majesty, specifically has his late mother's dress altered to suit you."

You promised yourself that you would no longer wear any shades of crimson. As much as you loved the color, it reminded you too much of your homeland and Naoya. No matter how much you despised him now, once upon a time, he was everything you loved and more.

And you thought you couldn't possibly love another color until you saw the extravagant navy dress in your chamber. Made of luxurious satin and adorned with literal diamonds, it shimmered under the light and flowed gracefully with layers of brocade cascading to the floor.

To give you something so valuable... You had expected to enter into a marriage out of necessity, but your new husband had no intention of ceasing his ways to win your heart.

If it's with him, maybe... just maybe...

Today is the day.

Satoru sat on his throne before his court in the grand hall of his audience chamber. His hair was pulled back, and he was dressed in his official attire, robe of silk and a crown made of pure gold.

Next to him, another resplendent crown adorned with jewels and diamonds shimmered in the light—the empress' crown. Your crown.

Today was the day this empire would truly acknowledge his queen. He stole a glance at you on his other side, and his breath was taken away.

With your hair tucked into an elegant updo, you were the very vision of a fairytale queen. You were incredibly stunning, almost otherworldly— shade of blue suited you as much as crimson did, just as he thought.

This day would go down in history. But before that, he would ensure that the news would reach Zen'in Naoya. He would spite him so hard.

"Today marks a momentous occasion. We gather here to celebrate not only my marriage and my new wife's coronation," Satoru glanced at his audience with a smirk, his expression widening as he spotted his best friends Suguru and Shoko. "But also the start of her reign... and as we know it already, her fame and beauty are second to none."

The crowd burst into giggles, clearly aware of his scandal at the Eastern Empire's courthouse. And even you smiled.

Satoru shrugged, playfully rolling his eyes. "Spare me, I'm a newlywed, after all. Anyway..." His gaze shifted to the intricate crown, a relic of his late mother's, and then back to you. "Come."

You knelt before your new husband, bowing your head. The whirlwind journey from the East, your remarriage to Satoru... It had all felt surreal until this moment. Now, the weight of reality settled upon you, almost shaking your very core—

But just as the thought crossed your mind, Satoru placed the crown upon your head. As the jewels settled into place and you rose to face the crowd, his voice cut through the air:

"And here I present to you, your new empress!"

The room erupted in applause, the cheers echoing around you. Everyone congratulated you without fail, and your breath was taken away.

It was a sight beyond belief, as they chanted your name, over and over again—

“ALL HAIL THE EMPRESS!”

"I have something for you!"

You wouldn't expect that you would ditch your last night of wedding celebrations along with your husband, and yet here you were, led by the hand by a very giddy Satoru.

"Where are we going?" you questioned him, your pretty dress sweeping the halls in a rush.

He turned to you to send you a wink. "Trust me, sweetheart. You'll love it."

Somehow the way he called you made your heart thump a little faster inside your ribcage. This man is really, truly, your husband now.

He was such a refreshing person, it almost made you let go of everything that molded you into the perfect empress in the east, and be just... you.

"Here." Both of you stopped in front of a grand door, and he ushered you inside. "Come, come~"

A study, you realized as you stepped inside, but then a gasp left your lips—

"How do you find it, hmm?" Satoru put an arm around your waist, proud of how the burgundy walls and mats enveloped the entire space, creating a tranquil sight that perfectly matched your taste.

It was so much like your private study in the Eastern Empire's palace. You might now hate that place, but your private study was filled with the memories of smiles while writing back to Satoru's letters and waiting for his cat to come. And to have this now in your new home...

"You remembered..." you looked up to him, almost tearing up.

"Of course I do," he pressed a kiss on your temple. "I said that so long as you're with me, I'll turn your dream into reality, didn't I?"

This man really treasures you, or at least that was what his actions had proven so far.

"You're everything I've ever wanted and more," Satoru said, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a warm embrace. "You might not realize it, but I've been in love with you since you first visited western lands."

"What?" you turned to him with genuine confusion. "How?"

"That blind boy who you led by the hand... he had no friends," Satoru sighed against you. "The first and only person who asked him if he was lost... is you."

Suddenly, you were thrown back in time to your first encounter with Satoru many years ago. He was known as "cursed" for being born with peculiar eyes, had been blind for a period of his childhood, before he awakened the true extent of those brilliant blue eyes and brought his clan to power by wielding them.

Back then, you thought it was wrong for him to be left alone, so you took him by the hand and escorted him back to the palace, unaware that he was the infamously cursed crown prince.

"You made me feel less lonely. And I thought then... someday, somehow... through some sort of miracle in which I regained my eyesight and could see you... I'd immediately ask for your hand."

But you were named the crown princess of the Eastern Empire. The thought of how crushed Satoru must have felt upon hearing the news pricked at your heart.

You felt soft, you felt loved, and most of all, you felt an overwhelming certainty that with this man by your side, you would finally experience the genuine love that had been missing from your life for so long.

"You have me now," you whispered in response.

Unlike your first kiss in the winery village, this time, you were the one who faced him and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Be it impulse, overwhelming feelings or something else... you didn't care. You just want him.

And wouldn't you know, your new husband... is also a wonderful, dashing lover.

"You're so... fucking beautiful..." Satoru's lips were on yours, claiming them with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, tracing each curves and lines.

You moaned into his mouth, clutching his robes. He captured your wrists with one hand, using the other to tilt your head back so he could leave bruises on your neck in the process, making you moan.

"Keep making that sound, yeah?" Satoru rasped, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. "Keep me going with your voice."

As he gripped your waist, it dawned to him once again that you were here, with him.

Seeing his colors on you ignited desire straight to his cock. His empress was stunning, more so now than ever, more than any woman Satoru had ever seen.

He led you to the bed, his movements urgent yet tender. The air was thick with desire as you lay back, pulling him down with you. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, craving more.

This wasn't your first time, yet you had never been this excited before. From heated kisses until somehow managing to get rid of your underwear and left you in your dress... your body nearly thrashed in response.

"Look at you... An queen of two empires, yet rendered putty in my hands," Satoru wickedly grinned as he slipped a hand under your dress, rubbing his thumb teasingly over your clit. You let out a soft sigh at the prodding. You were getting wetter by each second... and Satoru felt his cock straining against the tight material of his dress pants.

"More..." you pleaded, arching your hips. "More...!"

Any of your wishes would be his command, so he pushed two fingers inside you at once, and you let out an erotic gasp. Satoru was so close to tearing his pants off by seeing how tight you clenched around his digits.

Breathy moans fell from your lips with each harsh brush of his thumb over your clit, his fingers fucking you fast—

"Satoru...!" you shuddered, gripping his shoulders as you became limp and came into his hands in spurts.

"My queen..." he then captured your lips in a brash kiss, and you reciprocated it. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours in an attempt to calm his raging heart. "No matter what."

His watery, sparkling eyes was mesmerizing to you, and you took one breath before you crashed your lips into his, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

"As pretty as you look in this, I'm going to take it off," Satoru murmured with a meaningful smirk, slowly undoing the laces of your dress. "I want to see you completely naked... just for me."

Soon, you laid bare, and the cold air made your body shiver. Satoru clenched his jaw tightly at the scrumptious sight.

It was almost difficult for him to take in all of you at once—your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, erect nipples, and legs spread wantonly for him. Satoru had been here so many times in his dreams, and to see it becoming reality...

"If back then, you had chosen me instead—" he sounded almost heartbroken, which startled you. "I would have treated you right from the start—"

You looked up to him. "You would..."

"Don't you know how many years... I've been just there— watching you and that bastard? Knowing I can do even more than him?"

"Mhm..."

You rose, tugging him closer, before you unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Satoru... right now... I'm yours."

He allowed you to undress him and soon he too was out of his stuffy royal attire. Your eyes wandered on each part of his body you touched. His chiseled body, snow-like skin, and then the hardened bulge that sprung out the moment you undid his pants—

The sight of his cock alone only turned you on even more. You gently gripped the glistening head, running a thumb over the tip before gliding your hand towards the base of his length. With a gentle rhythm, your hand moved from base to tip in a slow, teasing motion... before pecking his head.

"Yeah... you're right." His eyes never left yours, admiring you as if you were the most precious gemstone, before catching you off guard. While you rubbed him, he snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you so that you tumbled on top of him.

You moaned loudly as his cock—big, both in length and width—entered you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart so he can shove himself deeper.

You felt so, so full, as you pulled Satoru to you tightly, groaning into his shoulder. And he started to set the pace, moving against you.

"Ahh," you moaned out shakily, fingers clawing into his back. To him, the sounds you made drew him in like a siren's song, it made him throb inside you. "Ahh—hngh!"

"Feel good?" he asked, voice sultry and deep, as he thrusted into you particularly harder, causing you to stifle a moan. "Let it out—hah—sweetheart... I want to hear you, hmm?"

And you did. You felt hot. Your unabashed, nasty sounds with each thrust drove him to the edge. With every lift of your hips, you squeezed him so tightly it almost made his head spin. His breaths came in short pants too.

"You fit me so damn well," he groaned, holding your hips hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers. "So fine..."

One woman. It took just one woman—you—to unravel him like this.

"Satoru, harder—" You commanded, wrapping your arms around his neck even as you trembled. "N-not enough... harder!"

He actually had to swallow, because you and your pussy felt so damn tantalizing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

He slammed his hips against yours twice—no, thrice the previous speed, and you incoherently squealed. The squelching sound of your hips slamming against each other, and the immense wetness coming out where you two were joined... it was clear: you were addicted.

"Did Naoya ever make you feel as good as I do you now?" he drawled, sinking into you impossibly deeper, squeezing your left mound and flicking your right nipple at the same time. "Did he... ever make you ride him like this?" And then he instantly regretted his words.

Because the moment he said that, you felt cold, reminded of nights in which Zen'in Naoya grabbed you just to forcefully breed you. You winced, and Satoru caught it.

"I..." you shifted your gaze away from him, and he could've sworn that it was sorrow he saw flashing in your pretty eyes. "I-I... don't want to talk about him..."

Feeling remorseful, Satoru reached for the back of your neck and pulled you to him, kissing your lips softly. "I'm sorry—"

"You don't have to—"

"Tonight, I'll make you scream my name so hard you'll forget him," he promised as he pulled away from you, his eyes darkening. "Tonight, give me everything and I'll show you how a man truly loves his woman."

And he followed through. He worshipped you meticulously, treating your body with the reverence one might bestow upon delicate glass. He peppered kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach, lips and tongue trailing down, his relentless thrusts so well-paced and brutal at the same time.

"I'm— close!" You whimpered, and yet still grinding your hips against him. He was watching your every move, every wave of pleasure that was evident on your face— committing it to memory for those moments when he couldn't hold you close.

You gasped—as a mind-blowing orgasm then ripped out of your very being, your hips faltering as you surrendered to ecstasy with a cry of his name, coming all over him. "Satoru... Satoru! Ahhh!"

And Satoru kept his gaze on your face as he too busted inside of you hard, feeling himself filling your womb with his essence, his hands kept your waist steady, memorizing the way your lips part and the way your body went limp into him with satisfaction.

Dear heavens, I love you. The sight of you was nothing but perfection, and with everything he had, he was very sincere when he said—

"You're flawless, sweetheart."

2 MONTHS LATER

"If you give me a son, I'll throne you as the empress right on that very day."

The Eastern Empire's palace was bustling as the royal consort's screams echoed through the halls. The day Naoya had been eagerly awaiting had arrived—his mistress was delivering his heir.

Yet unbeknownst to him, whispers in the dark suggested the royal baby was arriving suspiciously early. Many, still mourning the previous empress who had been dethroned so abruptly, were not exactly thrilled with this turn of events.

"My lady, just a little bit more!" the maid encouraged. Hanabi strained once again as the pain peaked and her body spasmed, letting out the loudest wail as the baby finally slid out of her.

"W-what... is it?" on the brink of passing out, Hanabi asked anyone who might hear her. She had to know, for she was so close to obtaining her throne—

"It's a girl, my lady!" the midwife announced.

What?

Her world crumbled at that very moment. A girl? A girl can't be the heir!

She wanted to sob, to utterly mourn, and right at this moment she was full of fear, because if Naoya knew—!

Like a curse, he suddenly made his presence known in the birthing chamber. His face scrunched in distaste at the scent of blood filling the air. He took one look at Hanabi, tearful and frazzled after the ordeal, then turned to the midwife, who was trembling at his presence.

"A baby girl, Your Majesty."

In that instant, fury flashed through him. He shot everyone in the room a glare before his eyes settled on his consort, full of spite.

"You useless tramp."

Your life with Satoru in Western Empire was wonderful.

He was everything Naoya was not. Satoru adored you, prioritized your well-being and happiness, often humored you, and made your days an endless delight.

And dare you say... you had begun to return his affections as well.

How could you not? Everything he did, he did with you in mind. He eased you into your position so seamlessly, and soon you found your place comfortably at court.

"He is mixing pleasure with his kingly duties," Suguru grumbled, watching his best friend order the gardeners to plant more blue roses simply because you mentioned finding them beautiful earlier. "Empress, you have to keep a tight grip on his leash."

"Well, at least he's happy." Shoko shrugged and nudged you. "Can't you see by now? How much of a loser he is for you?"

You did see him—a man who showed you everything he had. He had given you everything you unknowingly needed.

And you just wished... you could return the same for him. It still made you bitter, knowing you might never be able to give him heirs due to your condition.

. . .

"Sweetheart... what's on your mind, hmm?"

You looked up to him as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, an arm securely around you, sweaty and panting after your steamy session.

With his hair down and messy after you yanked him earlier, your lips curved into a genuine smile. "You look hot like this, you know?"

He clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I am, of course. But no use in changing topics, I know you well enough now."

Your bare body was pressed against his chest, fingertips tracing gentle lines on his skin.

"There's a possibility that... I can't give you any children." You almost felt ashamed saying this to him, unable to look at him in the eye. "I-I... I've failed for many years—"

"Hush," he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his expression firm. "No thinking that, yeah? I don't care."

"But—"

"Children are gifts," he said then, caressing your face tenderly. "It's not up to us to control how it'll take or not. And I married you not because I want heirs or such—I love you, you know?"

Your glassy eyes met his, and you willed yourself not to shed a tear.

He grinned cheekily. "Besides, you've felt it yourself—my sexual potency is undeniable. And I don't believe for a second, that you're what that bastard claimed you to be. I bet he's the one who is impotent—"

"Satoru! You're so obscene—!" you giggled freely and poked his chest.

At that time, you were just relieved that he didn't mind. Though it was still weighing in your mind on some days, you felt a newfound sense of liberation compared to when you were still in the Eastern Empire.

But you were in for another plot twist. Perhaps Satoru is correct, and your doubts are unfounded...

"Ugh..."

Your stomach churned in discomfort, a sickening nausea that seemed to twist your insides and threaten to force its way up. This had happened for days now.

You wanted to find a physician before Satoru was aware of your state. You didn't dare to hope or speculate, because you were tired of it by this point. You just wanted clarity.

Yet, the physician's words left you speechless.

"Your Majesty... it seems that you are with child," he remarked in wonder as he assessed your vein. "Yes, definitely. You are with child."

It was a revelation you hadn't expected. For years, you had been convinced that you were unable to conceive, but now...

You were carrying a new life. Yours and Satoru's.

You felt like bursting with joy as you made your way to his study. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Above anything else, you were eager to share this news with him—

...until everything you had known turned on its axis once again.

Right before you went past the ajar door, you saw a glimpse of your husband and his most trusted confidant, overhearing snippets of their conversation:

"Satoru, however you look at it, this is tantamount to declaring war," Suguru sighed, clearly at odds with his perspective. "It's not wise."

"We can finally put an end to them this way," Satoru's tone was steely as he moved a chess piece across the map, positioning it on the border between east and west. "No better time than now."

"The Empress will face the greatest backlash from this. They'll accuse her of being vengeful enough to provoke an attack on her home country—"

"On the contrary, her presence will encourage those still loyal to her to defect. That's why I have her here. We need defectors—"

You let out a choked gasp, backing away from the door in shock. For one good minute, you refused to comprehend what Satoru was implying.

. . .

. . .

Did your new husband... marry you for his own hidden agenda?

[gumified]

PRICE TO PAY

pairing: god!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary: you had prayed and prayed for the drought to finally end, for the village to finally be granted rain, so when meeting one of the gods you strike a deal and pay the price.

content: 4.4k, smut, pwp, big dick!gojo, virgin!reader, praise, degradation, dirty talk, cunnilingus (fem. receiving), ice play, bondage, gagging, fingering, squirting, orgasm control, overstimulation, public but also not public sex

note: have fun :D

The heat beat down on your face as you walked up the hill, buckets of water straining your shoulders. Your throat was parched and you were drenched in sweat. You were so thirsty it was unbearable. It had been months since the last rain and the nearest stream was miles away. Your village had long since lost hope, abandoning their faith in the gods. But not you. You knew they were up there. You believed they would help.

While everyone else assumed the drought would eventually end, as it had before, you couldn’t wait. Your brother was so young; he might not survive much longer. Water was life and without it survival was impossible.

“Hey, Ren.” You forced a smile for your brother. His face was flushed, and his clothes were tattered. “Come on, you need to drink this.”

Ren coughed, struggling to sit up. “Y/n, you’re back.”

“Yeah.” You brought the bowl closer to his lips, urging him to drink. He sipped weakly. “How have you been feeling?”

“I feel really hot.” You felt his forehead and sighed when you felt it even warmer than before. The fever he had was burning through his body. Ren wrapped his arms around your waist, clinging on you tightly. “Y/n you won’t leave me will you? Not like mum and dad.”

Brushing his hair out of his eyes, you felt your heart break a little. “Of course I won’t leave you. You’re gonna be stuck with me for the rest of your life, promise.” He grinned, giggling. There’s a small bit of you that wished that this would end soon but you knew better. 

“I love you Y/n.” Ren mumbled, eyes fluttering shut.

“Love you too Ren.” 

You were shaken awake and you nearly screamed when you caught sight of a beautiful face in front of you. His jaw was perfectly chiselled and his lips were plump, kissable almost. You felt your cheeks flushed. His eyes were what captured you most of all. Sapphire swirls painted his eyes, you felt yourself being pulled towards him. 

“You mortals really do sleep like - what’s the saying? Oh yes - like the dead.” His sneer transformed his handsome features into something far more menacing. “Don’t you know it’s disrespectful to spend the night at a temple?”

“I-I’m sorry, I must have fallen asleep by accident.” You tried to move away but it was like an invisible force was keeping you from moving your limbs. He smirked, crawling closer to you so that you were inches apart. “W-Who are you?”

“Little mortal doesn’t know who I am.” His tongue flicked over his lips. “You’re in my temple, little one.”

"Y-Your temple…" The cogs in your brain turned and you let out a frightened gasp. "Y-You're a God."  

He grinned, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "Smarter than you look. It's Y/n isn't it?" Words failed you and you felt your throat grow dry. He twisted a strand of your hair around his finger. "You've been praying for a heavy rain season for weeks. How could I not remember your name." 

"Does that mean you'll help me?" 

"I'm afraid the weather is in my brother's domain. I control the oceans, mortal." 

"I know who you are, Satoru Gojo, God of the oceans and earthquakes. Your brother controls the sky and its weather." You said meekly, feeling your cheeks burn at how close he was. The tapestries had always depicted him as a handsome man with bulging muscles. But something about seeing him in real life had you so enamoured. 

Satoru smirked, the blue in his eyes growing even brighter. His body glowed with a soft, golden aura. You gulped, unable to meet his gaze. "And yet you knew that, but still came to pray to me every day, making sacrifices as well."

"W-Well they say you're the most generous s-so I thought…"

"You thought I would help you?" Satoru cocked his head to the side. "Don't you know everything comes with a price?" 

"And I'm willing to pay that price." 

A silent pause passed between the two of you before a smirk crept up on Satoru’s face. You noticed his eyes grow darker, the bright pigment transformed into a much more seductive hue.

“My, my, little mortal’s brave.” You felt his eyes trailing over your body and you felt like you’re being hunted. “So you’ll do anything?” His fingers brushed over your thigh teasingly. You nodded. 

A wicked grin spread across his face. You squeaked in surprise when his mouth collided onto yours. The intoxicating scent of the ocean filled your senses and your eyes fluttered shut. Satoru’s lips moved ferociously against yours, it made you feel dizzy yet they tasted sweet at the same time. You could taste the sugary taste of leftover ambrosia as he delved into your wet cavern, tongue exploring each and every crevice. 

Your arms remained by your side, unsure of what to do. But when Satoru tugged you forward, they wrapped around him tightly, and you felt him smirk. Your hands wandered over his rippling muscles, trying to carve the feeling into your memory. He bit down on your bottom lip, drawing the slightest bit of blood.

The taste of your own blood mingled with the sweetness of ambrosia, created a heady mixture that made you gasp. Satoru pulled back slightly, his breath hot against your skin. "Everything comes with a price, little one." He murmured, his voice a velvety whisper. "Are you sure you're willing to pay it?"

You nodded, breathless and trembling. "Anything, just please help us."

Satoru's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something darker. "Very well, mortal. But remember, once a deal is struck with a god, there's no going back."

His fingers traced patterns on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "You'll belong to me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "Body and soul."

You felt yourself growing hot as he ravaged your mouth, a soft growl emitting from his throat. You weren’t familiar with his actions, you had never been bedded, too busy tending to your sick brother. The people had called you many names but you didn't care. But now, with your minimal experience, you were nervous, scared even at the thought of a God deflowering you. Nevertheless, you started to grow wet, your pussy started to stick to the thin piece of cloth that covered you. 

Satoru pulled away yet again, a single strand of salvia connected the both of you as he awaited your answer. You panted, out of breath and slightly intoxicated from just the sense of him. 

“Do you accept?” His voice was deep and sultry, something about him was so deliciously seductive that you couldn't help the way your thighs squeezed together involuntarily.

"I accept." 

Satoru's eyes flashed with satisfaction. "Good. Then let our pact be sealed." He captured your lips again, this time more possessively, his hands roaming your body with a newfound intensity. You let out a moan as his tongue slithered back into your mouth. 

He sunk two fingers into your folds making you whimper at the stretch. Your hands gripped his biceps, nails digging down. Satoru licked his lips, continuing to pump into you, gradually increasing the pace. The lewd noises that filled your ears made a blush rise to your cheeks. Never in your life have you felt so dirty, so shameless.

"You're dripping, my sweet. Who would've thought you'd be this turned on." His tone was laced with unmistakable lust and hunger. "Been watching you for so long. Couldn't wait any longer to be inside you." He growled, fucking into you faster, drawing louder moans out of you. 

"S-Satoru…" You gasped as he plunged another digit into you, manoeuvring his fingers so he hit all the right spots. "I-I…"

He stared at your core, your juices all over. For a second he slowed down, giving you a chance to breathe and relax before he picked up the pace. Curling his fingers, touching your sweet sensitive spots in your velvet walls. His thumb rubbed your clit, playing with your sensitive nub. A tight hot rope seemed to wrap around your stomach as Satoru continued to fuck you harder. He smirked as your walls squeezed his fingers. You let out a gasp when he touches a particular spot within you. 

"Close my sweet?" He whispered, lips brushing against your ear and it sent you closer to your high. All you could do is nod fervently, the twisting feeling wrapping around your stomach tightened. You mewled as he fucked you faster, adding another digit. “You can’t cum just yet, got to make sure you’re ready for my cock.” He hummed.

You clenched around his fingers once more, tears pricked your eyes as you threw your head back at the pleasure you were receiving. Satoru surged forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. He swallowed your moans and whimpers. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving soft open-mouthed kisses in his wake. Your noises were like music to his ears as he drank in every moan, whimper, mewl - the breathy gasps and the lewd pants. 

“You know my sweet, there’s something that I love about being a God.” 

You gazed at him through your lashes, his lips curling up into a devilish smirk. An ice cube appeared in his hand. You weren’t sure what to think until he slid it up and down your hot wet folds, then you were gasping at the coldness that hit your core. There was a rush of newfound delight that filled you up and you were rutting your hips, asking for more.

Satoru simply grinned, pushing the cube of ice further inside you watching your reactions bloom in front of him. His fingers were dripping with both water and your arousal. You let out a soft hiss when the ice cube is pressed harder into you. The coldness contrasted with the warmness of your needy walls. It spiked through your body as it made your blood rise and your head became light at the overwhelming feeling. You were clutching onto Satoru with so much force that it would hurt him but he didn’t care, not when he was in the midst of unravelling you.

“Let’s see how many you can hold.” It shocked you into a frenzy when you felt another ice cube get pushed inside you, the last one still slowly melting. 

“Mmmph. Too much, ngh, feels weird, ‘s too much.” Your mind seemed to explode as you babbled incoherently. “F-fuckkk ‘toru it’s cold a-and-“

You were unable to finish your sentence as Satoru reached out his hands to pinch your clit causing you to jolt forward at the sudden gesture. You felt a rush as you gazed up at him. watching his smirk grow as he looked at your sopping pussy. 

“You’re so beautiful!” He teased your folds, rubbing against them harsher. “Take more for me okay? You’re such a good girl, my sweet, keep that dirty pussy dripping as I stuff you, okay?” Satoru’s lips brushed your ear. “Then I’ll let you cum.”

You felt yourself spiralling into euphoria when he slid his finger down your pussy. His tongue flicked over his lips as he admired your fucked out face. Morals left your body and you let your urges take over. All reason and thought left you as you were reduced to a whining needy mess. Your pussy clenched pathetically around the ice cubes, the cold still surprising you. Satoru did nothing but coo at you, tucking strands of loose hair behind your ear.

“Come on my sweet.” He urged. “You're doing so well. This pussy is so pretty, she’s just so gorgeous, fuckkk, wish you could see her.”

“A-Ah, ‘toru good f-feels so g-good.” 

You were writhing beneath his grip, a feeling of overwhelming pleasure surged through you as he continued his actions. Your pussy constricted around his fingers and you felt something grow within you. Your nerves and senses were heightened as you felt his fingers nudge at your swollen clit. 

“I-I feel somethingg, ngh, f-feels weird like I’m gonna burst-” You gasped out, unable to keep the noises within you.

“Awwww.” Satoru’s tone was mocking as he watched your tiny frame twist and turn under his grip. A wicked grin spread across his face. “You’re close, my sweet, beg to cum and maybe I’ll be nice enough to let you.” 

It was almost painful but the pleasure was so uncontrollable that it overtook any pain you felt. Satoru slid another freezing ice cube into you, making you scream. Your mind was dizzy and you could only feel yourself getting stretched repeatedly with the cold object. Your pussy walls were both cold and hot, the mixture that Satoru had concocted dripping from them. Sweat covered your body, glistening as the sun shone down. You felt like you were on the verge of collapsing, so desperate for an unknown pleasure to come to your saviour.

“S-Satoru...cum, p-please. W-Wanna cum…” You stuttered helplessly, silently shrieking at the contrast of temperatures.

“More, beg more.”

You screamed at the feeling as his fingers thrusted in you making your head light as you desperately gripped onto his shoulders, clawing at some sort of way to tether you to the present. His words were laced with seduction as he continued to tease you.

“C-Cum cum cum, please pleaseee, needa cum so b-bad ‘toru fuckkk! P-Please let me cum, ‘s too much need it s-so bad, please please please!”

Satoru laughed as he buried his head in your neck, placing kisses on the empty space. He loved your desperate pleas, the breathy moans that would fill the gaps and the tears that followed as you begged him for something you had never experienced before.

“You’ve been such a good girl.” He purred, his deep voice making you clench around him. “And good girls deserve to cum. Go on my sweet, let it all out on my fingers, make a mess of this pussy.” 

You felt a wave of ecstasy rush over you as he pressed his fingers down, biting into your neck. Your body shook at the sensation that overcame you. You rocked against Satoru as you felt your pussy squeeze and constrict. A newfound feeling gushed from within you and you felt yourself scream at the pleasure. Your mind was reduced to filth as you moaned, the ringlets of your release jolting through your body. Satoru groaned at the way your cum coated his fingers and he stared at your desperate cunt, watching the aftermath of the mess you had just created. You didn’t know what to think, your mind cloudy and confused. 

“You fucking squirted, dirty fucking girl.” His eyes were transfixed and suddenly you felt embarrassed at the wetness between your thighs. He reached his hands out forcing you to stay open for him, exposing your most private part for him to ogle at. “Who knew this cute little pussy was capable of such filthy things. You’re just a whore in disguise aren’t you?”

Your pathetic mewls convinced him of nothing. Satoru stared in wonder at your pussy, watching as you clenched around nothing. He slid his fingers in his mouth, tasting every bit of you. A low moan was heard before he dived down licking up your mess. Still sensitive, you cried in shock, threading your hands through his hair. He sucked harshly at your sensitive bud, lapping at your juices. The feeling made tears bleed from your eyes and you tug on his wispy locks. 

“Like it, my sweet?” His voice sent tingles down your spine and you held back the urge to scream. “Can’t hear you?”

“L-Like it so much ‘toru…” You let out a shaky breath, beads of your tears clinging onto your lashes. “P-Please…”

He lapped at your cunt greedily, swallowing every single drop. Your arousal dripped from his chin with a mixture of his salvia. His ears were blessed at the loud squelch that would emit from between your legs. Everything was so messy but he didn’t care as he continued to play with your pretty cunt. You could only whine and quiver at the feeling. Your legs shook, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. Blissful thoughts whizzed by as he kept you locked in an euphoric sensation. You struggled to not cry out and sob when white dots blurred your vision. 

Satoru flicked his tongue against your engorged clit, plunging the wet muscle inside. His mouth was hot and you felt his tongue circle your swollen clit messily while you stuttered out pleading moans. He pried open your thighs, desperate to access deeper into the precious new heaven he had discovered. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head at the overstimulation, finding it hard to focus on anything as your senses overloaded. Your mouth hung open as sweet whines constantly fell from your lips. All you could do was lie there letting Satoru ravage your pussy like a man dying of thirst.

“C-Close, close so so so close!” You gasped when you felt him release with a pop before diving back down to continue to suck. “Too much, ‘toru ‘s too much, feels t-too goodddd…”

It wasn’t long before you were cumming again. Another round of your wet arousal coating his face and he licked it clean. You were drooling now, salvia running down your chin as you felt the tears run down your face. It was too much and you feel yourself fall into a new world of pure pleasure. You could feel Satoru’s lustful grin against you as he sucked your pussy. Your thighs shook, chest heaving up and down. Despite the fact you had just released it never stopped the god from indulging you in his carnal desire.

"Sweet little Y/n." He cooed as his thumb ghosted circles around your puffy clit. “Think you’re ready for my cock?” 

It was a question that didn’t need an answer but you still nodded your head lifelessly. Your body was limp in his grip and you struggled to hold yourself up, relying only on him. Satoru smirked from above you, pushing you down on the marble floor. His hands were big and warm and the simple touch had heat blossoming at your pussy. You barely registered what was happening until you had your hands tied together. A thin golden cord wrapped around your wrists and Satoru bit his lip. You looked so beautiful, so pretty, so submissive. 

“I like you this way my sweet. All tied up and ready to be used.” He frowned and you panicked, scared you had angered him. He snapped his fingers and you found a piece of cloth in your mouth, stopping you from speaking. “That’s better, as much as I love your noises I find this much more appealing.”

Your eyes widened when he reached down to release his cock from its confines. You had never seen something so big and dare you say pretty. Satoru’s cock was red and flushed, pre cum oozing out of the swollen tip, dripping like pearls as they rolled down his fat cock head. You felt yourself drool at the sight and you didn’t think you would want something in your mouth so bad. He grinned smugly at your reaction, knowing you were unable to say anything as you stared transfixed at the sight before you.

“Don’t worry my sweet, I’ll make sure to make you feel so good. I know how much this pussy loves to be filled up.”

The words are dirty yet you couldn’t help but let out a muffled whine as he picked you up. His tip pushed past your folds, nudging into your pussy hole. You shut your eyes letting yourself feel the stretch that he gave you. His cock was so big and every bit of your body felt like it was on fire as he continued to push inside. He paused letting you adjust, whispering into your ear quietly. Filthy praises that only made you drip and mewl. It felt like magic and you whimpered into your gag helplessly. Satoru’s fingers brushed through your hair and he peppered sweet kisses across your face. 

It was like your world had imploded as he thrusted into you. Nothing else mattered as you moaned and squirmed at his touch. Your senses went into overdrive as he quickened his thrusts. He pumped in and out of you. He filled every crevice of your sex. His pace never slowed even as you felt all the energy leave your body. You screamed into the gag when he hit that particular spot that had you keeling. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head and you gasped for air through the gag. 

“Fuckkk you’re so tight, such a slutty virgin pussy. Look at how you’re gripping on my cock my sweet, she’s so loud.”

His words only made you keen with desire as you gave in to the carnal temptation that bloomed within you. 

“Mmmmph!” Your moans grew louder with every harsh thrust as his cock touched every part of your gummy walls. “Ah-Ah-Ah! ‘toruuuu!”

Satoru showed no mercy as he pounded into you. Cock plunging in and out of your pussy. Wet noises echoed through the walls of the temple and a small part of you felt bad for doing this, here of all places. It was inappropriate but it felt so good. Too good even. He continued his movements and the binds that once bound you vanished and you assumed that this was a sign that Satoru wanted you to touch him so you obeyed. Your fingers dragged down his back, sure to leave marks. Fingers fluttered from place to place, desperate for something to anchor you.

“You look so beautiful, pussy sucking in my big cock. Such a good girl for me.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. Everything he did felt amazing. “Moan for me my sweet, go on let me hear those filthy sounds.” 

You obeyed his command letting the lewd sounds tumble from your lips as you gasped for more. Your hands roamed the vast expanse of his body, the taut muscles that lay under your hands, each touch ignited sparks. His grip on you tightened, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling just enough to make you gasp again. Every brush of his lip, every stroke of his tongue, every bite and nibble was a reminder of his power and you couldn’t help but give in completely. 

The vigor that he fucked you with was compared to no man and you couldn’t help the lustful sounds that escaped your lips as his hips snapped to yours. It made your mind reel with the feeling of pleasure. His hair fell into his eyes and you reached your hands to sweep through his locks. Satoru was so handsome. He was a god after all and you couldn’t help that your heart pounded whenever you looked at him.

You felt your orgasm approach and you clenched your hands around his toned biceps, nails digging into his skin and he hissed. You moaned repeatedly into the gag as your body shook frantically from the pleasure. 

“A-A-Ahhh! ‘toru ‘toru ‘s too much, nghh.” Your body thrashed in his grasp, wriggling and writhing as you felt the immense feeling build up again. Every movement magnified the intensity as you felt the shock ricochet throughout your body. 

“It’s okay my sweet.” Satoru whispered but his thrusts were unrelenting. His fingers brushed against your clit, circling the bundle of nerves as he drew out your orgasm. “It’s okay, let's cum together. Soak my cock Y/n, such a good girl.”

Your juices overflowed and you felt his cum pump into your body, filling you up until you were so so full. Warmth blossomed throughout your body and you felt yourself wringing his cock with every drop of cum. The feeling was incomparable and you gasped for air once he removed the gag with the snap of his fingers. Satoru kissed you, his lips were demanding, moving against yours with raw hunger. The taste of the ocean filled your senses, salty and intoxicating. He pulled out to place a kiss on your thighs, on your pussy. You were so sensitive and you felt his cum as it flowed out of you. He stuffed two fingers in your pussy and you squealed at the sudden gesture. His fingers curled in and out of you before he slapped your core. The sting sent shock waves through your body and you couldn’t help the moan that tumbled out of your lips.

“Keep it in there my sweet, I’ll be visiting again.” His voice was a husky whisper, deep and seductive. 

Then, with those words, he disappeared, leaving you a naked mess on the temple floor. You were breathless and reeling from the pleasure that he had just bestowed upon you. You had just given yourself to a god, one that had just stuffed you so full of his cum. You stared at the place where he had been in shock, your head felt light from all that had just happened. Your legs gave way when you tried to stand up, they were sore and achy, covered in splatters of both of your cum. His smirks and groans filled your senses once again and you felt yourself flush at the memory. 

Satoru Gojo had just introduced a lustful desire that you didn’t think you would be able to forget for a very long time.

You gathered your belongings with shaking hands, urgently attempting to steady yourself as you stood. The wet splashes that painted your body were a stark reminder of what had just happened, and you tried your hardest to conceal them along with your flushed, fucked-out face.

You hobbled your way back to the village, heart pounding in your chest. Every glance from a passerby felt like they could see right through you. The sheer thought that someone would stop to talk to you had you eager to get home unnoticed.

Unbeknownst to you, Satoru was watching from Olympus, his eyes never leaving your retreating form. He grinned, a sense of satisfaction washing over him as he saw your tiny self hurry home. The memory of your trembling body and flushed cheeks was seared into his mind and he felt his cock harden again at the thought. He knew you were thinking of him, longing for him, and that was exactly what he wanted. When the time was right, he would come for you again, and induce you in a pleasurable haze once more.

[flowersforbucky]

oil & water

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 5.8k

prompt - "If you wanted to take your pants off for me so badly, you could have just said so."

shout out to @ellemj for her encouragement with this ♡

warnings/tags: SMUT, vaginal penetration, oral sex (female receving), face sitting, mentions of violence, description of blood & wounds, no use of y/n, reader is afab, hurt/comfort trope, bickering & banter, friends to lovers, forced close proximity trope. 18 plus only!

“Roll your window up,” Bucky snaps at you as he turns down the music you had just put on moments ago. “The last thing we need is someone noticing the blood caked all over the entire right side of your body.” 

As if the lack of functioning AC in the twenty-something year old getaway car (an early 2000’s model Chevy Aveo is inconspicuous, according to Sam) wasn’t stifling enough in the south Georgia summer, the annoyance radiating from the brooding super soldier sitting next to you adds an extra ten degrees. 

Sure, Sam. Inconspicuous is the right word to describe a six foot, two hundred plus pound man with a metal arm cramped behind the driver’s seat of the equivalent to a clown car. Bright fucking cherry red and all. 

“It’s 103 degrees outside.” You glare at him from the passenger seat, where you’re using a tattered handkerchief found in the glove compartment to put pressure on the knife wound on your shoulder. “I’m going to have a heatstroke.” 

“You’re not going to have a heatstroke,” he rolls his eyes at you. “That happening would indicate that I have any amount of good luck.” 

“Ha-ha-ha,” you say under your breath, reluctantly rolling up the manual window with your still bleeding arm. “I got the fucking intel, did I not?” 

You remove the USB drive from its secure location in the cup of your bra and flash it at Bucky. “Though we’ll be lucky if this thing still works after being drowned in boob sweat, since you won’t let me keep the window rolled down.” 

“And nearly got yourself killed in the process.” He grabs the flashdrive from you and grimaces. “We’ll be at the safehouse in less than five minutes, if you can please just refrain from stroking out or bleeding out in the meantime.” 

You glance down at the once white handkerchief clutched in your hand. “I’m not making you any guarantees.” 

You're welcome for saving your ass, by the way, you resist adding. 

Jokes aside, the energy exerted in bringing down over a dozen HYDRA agents in combination with the July heat and the substantial blood loss from your shoulder wound has you feeling woozier by the minute. Factor in a few potentially fractured ribs and a dislocated knee and you're in pretty rough shape. 

As promised, just under five minutes later Bucky parks in front of a small trailer just outside the city limits of Valdosta. It's seen better days, but you don't mind as long as it has semi-functioning air conditioning. 

Bucky is opening your car door and offering you a hand up before you can take in your surroundings. You force yourself out of your seat, ignoring his outstretched hand and attempting to stand on your own, doing your best to ignore the borderline blinding pain radiating from your right knee. 

“Thanks, but I think I can–” 

Your vision goes fuzzy as you stumble forward, right into Bucky's chest. Your hand instinctively clutches the fabric of his shirt as you attempt to regain your balance.

“Let me guess. You're capable of stitching up your own shoulder, too?” 

He gently loops his arm around your waist, slowly walking the two of you to the front door of the trailer. You try to focus on keeping pressure on the gash on your shoulder and not the feeling of his toned body pressed against you. How does he smell so good after hand to hand combat and sitting in that sauna of a car? You're sure you probably smell like a wet diaper that's been left in the sun for–

Bucky opens the door and guides you inside. The interior of the safehouse is surprisingly homey and clean. It's still uncomfortably warm, but offers a nice reprieve from the violent mid-day sun. 

Bucky leads you into the small living space before maneuvering you out of his hold, where you all but collapse onto a suede sofa.

“I guess you do have some amount of good luck, after all,” you mumble, wiping sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. 

“What are you talking about?” Bucky glances at you from over his shoulder as he flicks on the AC. 

“That happening would indicate that I have any amount of good luck,” you quote his sarcastic comment from the car ride. 

“Ha-ha-ha,” he fake laughs just as you did. He rummages through a few cabinets and drawers of the small kitchen before finding everything he’s searching for, then makes his way back to where you are on the couch. 

“Drink this.” He hands you a bottle of water that you hadn't even noticed him grab. For once you don't object to his instructions, uncapping the bottle and gulping down the contents as quickly as you can. 

“You're not having a heatstroke,” he assures you. “But you are going to have to let me stitch up this crater on your shoulder and pop your knee back into place.” 

You sit forward, removing the now fully soaked cloth that you've been holding to your shoulder for the last half hour. 

Bucky winces at the sight of it, handing you a dishrag before opening a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “You might want to bite down on–” 

“I know the drill.” You sigh before putting the rag between your teeth. 

He hesitates for a moment before pouring the clear liquid over the wound. You groan against the rag, your eyes squint shut in pain. You've had your fair share of broken bones and black eyes working in this field, but you don't think you'll ever get used to the pain of getting stitches without the comforts of saline solution and anesthesia.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, dabbing the cut dry with a paper towel. 

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. “It's part of the job. I've come out of missions worse than this before,” you shrug, squeezing the dish rag he gave you until your knuckles go white as he makes the first incision. 

“Never because of me.” 

You glance at him, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. His gaze doesn't leave the thread and needle that he's using to close up the gash on your arm - his normally plump pout set into a hard line. 

“You know this isn't your fault, right?” You keep your eyes locked on him. “I saw that guy coming at you out of nowhere and I panicked. I wasn't watching my own back. That's my fault, not yours,” you say earnestly. 

“If you say so.” He glances up for a split second, giving you a tight-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes. 

“Is that why you've been such a grouch? You're blaming yourself for me not being careful enough?” 

“Maybe,” he admits quietly. “Or maybe I just hate seeing you covered in blood for any reason.” 

You freeze at the bluntness of his words. You and Bucky have been partners on more missions than you could count at this point - you know that he would have done the same for you if the situation had been reversed; in fact, there had been times where he had taken the brunt of the fight in order to protect you. 

All of those instances suddenly flash through your mind. 

The time he used himself as a human shield when there was a bomb set off during a recon mission at a warehouse in Tokyo. Or when he football tackled you out of the direct line of an incoming dagger during an operation in Portland. Not to mention the time he left a job all the way in Prague unfinished because he merely suspected you had a concussion. 

You had always chalked it up to “that’s what partners do,” but the pained expression on his face as he refuses to meet your eyes has you questioning if there could possibly be more to it. 

No. You’re his partner. He’d do the same for anyone else. He wouldn’t want to see anyone on his team covered in blood if he could prevent it. 

The two of you sit in a thick silence while he finishes stitching you up. 

“There,” he says at last, clipping the excess suture thread with scissors. “Not quite as good as your stitch work, but I think it’ll hold you together.” His voice isn’t as strained as it was moments ago, though you can't help but notice it sounds forced. 

“Thank you,” you tell him, ignoring the way your cheeks warmed the tiniest bit at his compliment. “Now for the really fun part,” you add, staring at your throbbing knee. 

“You’re in luck,” he says, perking up a bit. “I’ve popped my own knees back into place an embarrassing amount of times, so this should be a breeze.” He repositions himself to have better access to your leg, moving off the couch to perch on the edge of the coffee table in front of you. You attempt to pull the tight fabric of your tactical pants up enough to give him unhindered access to your knee, but it’s too restrictive, immediately causing you to wince in pain. 

“Fuck,” you huff. “I’m going to have to take these off.” You pop the button at the top of your pants and begin to push them down your thighs before insecurity can get the better of you. You try not to think about the fact that Bucky's never seen you in such little clothing - pants now pushed down to your calves, only your underwear and the bra and thin tank top you wore underneath the tactical vest that you took off as soon as you were in the safety of the getaway car left to cover you. 

Hesitation flashes across Bucky’s face for a brief moment before he scoots over slightly, moving directly in front of you so that he can position his hands on either side of your kneecap. You’re painfully aware of the polar opposite feeling of his right and left hand - his flesh hand is warm and so much softer than you’d expect, his metal one icy and smooth. You aren’t sure which causes the visible goosebumps that now litter your skin.

Maybe it’s not his touch at all. Maybe it’s the way his eyes haven’t left your thighs since you exposed them.

Maybe it’s the fact that if you parted your legs just a few inches, he’d be nestled between them. 

Chill out, you berate yourself. He's just relocating your knee for Christ's sake. 

“On the count of three,” he starts and you brace yourself. “One, two–” 

“MOTHERFUCKER.” You yell out at the same moment your knee creates a loud cracking noise that echoes off the walls of the small trailer. “You said count of three!” 

“Would that really have made it less painful?” He shrugs, but doesn't move from where his knees brush against yours. “I think what you mean to say is “thank you, Bucky, you're a lifesaver and I'm now in your debt.” 

“In your fuckin’ dreams,” you scoff. “I'm going to wash all of this blood and sweat off of me.” You move to push yourself off of the couch, tugging your pants back up as you stand. You can feel his eyes trail up your body as you do, making you feel woozy all over again. You turn away from him, heading towards the hallway that the bathroom is likely located down. 

“I could have done that through your pants, by the way.” 

You freeze mid-step, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “What do you mean?” You snap at him. 

“Your knee,” he clarifies, a hint of undeniable mischief in his expression. “I could have popped your knee back into place through your pants. If you wanted to take your pants off for me so badly, you could have just said so.” 

Just when you thought the safehouse was starting to cool down, your entire body heats up a thousand degrees. You're racking your brain trying to think of a retort when Bucky's ringtone starts blaring from the kitchen countertop. He ignores it, his eyes not leaving yours for what feels like an eternity. 

You finally break the silence. “That's most likely Sam wanting to make sure we're not dead. Should probably answer it.” 

“Probably should,” he smirks, and at last gets up from the coffee table to answer the phone.

You scurry the rest of the way to the bathroom before he can look back at you again, ignoring the sharp pains that radiate from your ribcage and the now dull ache that spreads from your knee. 

You turn the water to cold, and don't get out until you've started to shiver. 

— — — — — 

When you exit the bathroom and step back into the connected bedroom in only a towel, you see that Bucky has done you the kindness of bringing in the bags that had been stored in the backseat of the getaway car. 

You dig through your backpack, pulling out a fresh t-shirt and pair of leggings. From the next room, you can smell the aroma of whatever non-perishable food that Bucky has scrounged together. Despite your growing hunger pains, you take your sweet time combing through your freshly rinsed hair. The thought of looking Bucky in the eye after your last interaction nearly makes you lose your appetite. 

What was I thinking? Oh right, I wasn't thinking at all, otherwise I wouldn't have just pushed my fucking pants down right in front of–

“Your five course dinner is getting cold.” Bucky raps his fingers against the bedroom door, startling you from your thoughts. 

“Be right there,” you call back to him, swiping some deodorant under your arms. You take a glance at yourself in the bedroom’s small vanity mirror and immediately wish that you hadn't – you're cleaner than you were by miles, at least no longer covered in your own blood as well as the blood of HYDRA agents – but your cheekbone is lightly bruised, there's a slit on your bottom lip, and the bags under your eyes make it look like you haven't had a decent night's sleep in a month. 

You take a deep breath and then walk back to the one room that makes up the kitchen, dining area and living room. 

“Beef or shrimp ramen?” Bucky asks as you climb onto one of the barstools on the opposite side of the counter from where he's standing. 

“Hm,” you contemplate, not meeting his stare and instead occupying yourself with another bottle of water that he's placed where you now sit. 

Fucker probably wouldn't fluster me so bad if he wasn't being so damn thoughtful.

“I'll go with shrimp,” you answer, remembering that beef is his favorite.

He slides the bowl across the counter and then hands you a fork. You finally get the nerve to look up and meet his stare that feels as if it weighs two tons. 

“So, what did Sam say?” You try to go for light conversation, twisting the fork around your noodles. “Are we free to get out of here once it's dark out?” 

“Not…quite,” he hesitates, now seeming particularly interested in his own food. “The car battery kind of died.” 

“What do you mean the car battery kind of died?” 

“While you were in the shower, I tried to move the car behind the house so that anyone driving by wouldn't immediately know that someone's here. It started fine, but as I was driving it around back it just.. stopped. Had to push it the rest of the way.” 

You let out a dramatic groan as he continues. 

“I called Sam again and he said the earliest they can send someone to get us is in the morning.” 

“Well,” you exhale, blowing a raspberry with your lips. “We can flip a coin to see who gets the bed?” You ask lightheartedly. This isn’t the first time that you and Bucky have had an overnight mission together, but it is the first overnight mission where the two of you haven’t had your own motel rooms or at least a safehouse with two beds.

He looks at you quizzically, furrowing his eyebrows. “You really think there’s a chance of me making you sleep on the couch? In your condition?” 

“My condition?” you laugh. “I’ve got a few stitches, I’m not dying of cancer.” 

“You don’t think I’ve noticed the way it’s uncomfortable for you to inhale and exhale? You’ve probably got a couple fractured ribs with the way you landed on that cement. If not fractured, then at least heavily bruised. You’re not sleeping on the couch.” 

Between his tone and the look on his face, you know it isn’t up for debate. You throw your hands up in faux surrender. 

“Serving me instant ramen and letting me take the king sized bed?” you say teasingly. “Keep it up and I'm going to think that you're soft on me.” 

His gaze on you is heavy as he takes a long sip of water from his own bottle. “Wouldn't that be a shame?” 

— — — — — 

The rest of the afternoon is spent with you lounging in bed, resting your injuries and reading some cheesy western romance novel that you found in the drawer of the bedside table. 

Bucky keeps to the living room, where you hear a violent sounding movie playing from a TV that has to be as old as you are. 

You tell yourself that you're staying in the bedroom because you need to take it easy and relax, but truthfully you feel suffocated by the tension that has been escalating between you and Bucky since you arrived here. 

A certain level of tension had always been there, you knew deep down. From the first time the two of you met almost two years ago. 

Bucky had been formally introduced to the team just a few weeks prior, and it was his first official mission. An undercover mission - just the two of you. 

Posing as an engaged couple at a party thrown at the estate of a notorious crime boss in order to obtain intel. Pretty straight forward - it was far from your first undercover mission. And then it was sprung on you at the last minute that the man who you'd only met once, less than a month ago, was to be your fiancé for the evening. 

The bastard even went as far as to slip the fake engagement ring on your finger himself. 

“Natasha picked this out. She said it needed to be a princess cut, because that's what you like.” 

You chuckled as he went to slide the rock onto your ring finger. “What? You're not going to get down on one knee?” 

The mission went shockingly smooth, you and Bucky were in and out with the needed intel in just a few hours. But those few hours replayed in the back of your mind more often than you care to admit. 

The way his arm stayed wrapped securely around your shoulder or waist the entire hour that you mingled as guests. How he pulled you into a slow dance to discuss the plan for sneaking into the study on an off-limits floor. The musky smell of his aftershave and the spearmint on his breath. 

And especially the way he referred to you as his “bride” when introducing yourselves to people, on more than one occasion throughout the night. 

“And who is this absolutely beautiful young woman on your arm?” an elderly man with eye boogers and booze on his breath asks Bucky. 

“This is my bride,” Bucky introduces you, giving him your undercover name. “She is beautiful, isn’t she? Most beautiful woman here, if I do say so myself.” 

Saying that Bucky played his part well that night would have been an understatement. Saying that he played his part scarily well would be a more accurate assertion. 

After grabbing the intel and fleeing the scene, neither of you ever mentioned that mission again. Not the lingering touches, smoldering stares - not even the way he shoved you up against the wall of a corridor, cupped your face in his large hands, and kissed you senseless for half a minute when you came close to getting caught sneaking into the private office by security at the very end of the evening. 

“Do you think that was believable?” he asks nervously, his hands still clutching your face as he looks around the hallway for any lingering guards. 

“Ye-yeah,” you stutter breathily. “As believable as it possibly could be.” 

There’s a light knock on the partially open bedroom door that draws you back to the reality of the safehouse. You realize that you’ve been staring at the same paragraph in your book for the last half hour. 

"Yeah?” you answer, bringing yourself to a sitting position. 

Bucky peaks his head around the door, opening it further so that you can see what he is carrying. 

“I’m tired of watching old James Bond movies,” he sighs, glancing between you and the stack of board games in his arms. “I found these in the TV stand.” 

“I kicked your ass in Battleship last time we played,” you remind him. “Do you really want a rematch of that?” 

“How about we make a bet?”

— — — — — 

Half an hour later, you've eaten your own words, now owing Bucky a large meat lovers pizza from his favorite parlor in Brooklyn and two weeks worth of laundry duty when you return to the compound. 

“How'd you get so good?” you demand as he makes the winning attack. “You were so lame at this last time.” 

“Maybe I just let you win last time,” he shrugs with a shit-eating grin. 

You just shake your head in defeat, wincing as you stand up from where you had been playing on the shag area rug in the living room. 

“No,” you declare firmly. “No, I don't believe that. There's no way you'd willingly let me win anything. I've learned that the hard way during hand to hand combat training way too many times.”  

Bucky belly laughs from where he still sits on the floor, his gaze trailing after you. 

You walk over to where he has piled the board games on the coffee table, trying to find something you were confident you could win. 

Monopoly isn't fun with only two players, Risk takes too long — 

Your eyes lock onto a card game peeking out from underneath the Sorry! box. 

You pick it up, turning back to face him with a growing smile on your face.

“Absolutely not,” he says firmly. “I'm over a hundred years old–” 

“What does age have to do with truth or dare?!” You exclaim, sitting back down on the floor once more. 

“I haven't been roped into a game of truth or dare since the 1930's,” he groans. 

“Scared of what you might have to do?” You tease, unboxing the cards. “Or what you might have to admit?” 

He stares at you for a long moment, pursing his lips. The disapproval doesn't quite reach his eyes - you can tell by the way they gleam that he's going to cave. 

“Maybe a bit of both,” he admits. He tousles his fingers through his hair and moves to cross his legs at the ankles. “Fine,” he relents. “One game.” 

You squeal like a kid in a candy store as you shuffle the deck of cards and lay them in a stack between you. 

“Elders first,” you motion to the pile. 

He rolls his eyes, drawing one from the top – dare. 

“Smell another player's armpit,” he deadpans. You're instantly thankful that you remembered to cram a stick of deodorant into your backpack when packing for the mission. 

“Well?” You lift up your arm. “I'm the only other player here and it's not going to sniff itself.” 

Bucky sighs, leaning across the game to put his nose directly next to the opening of your t-shirt sleeve. “Lavender,” he observes after inhaling, giving you an approving nod. “As far as dares go, I got lucky.” 

“Lucky that I showered earlier,” you mumble as you draw your turn, your cheeks warming slightly. 

Truth. 

“Who was your last kiss with and what was it like?” 

Your heart plummets to your stomach as you read the words aloud. Bucky waits impatiently as you fiddle with the piece of paper in your hands. 

“Might I remind you, you are the one who wanted to play this game so desp–” 

You hold up a finger and make a shushing sound, silencing him as he grins menacingly. 

“My last kiss was almost two years ago,” you answer honestly, looking back down at the card to avoid his stare. He can always tell when you're lying, why even try? 

“With a man I barely knew,” you continue. “We had to pretend to be in love for the evening. It was a shockingly easy thing to do. When he pushed me up against a wall and kissed me as a distraction to security guards, I had to remind myself that it was an act. We never spoke about it again. But now two years later, I'm telling him that I think of that kiss often.” 

When you finally look up, you can't decipher the look on his face. Long gone is the mischievous grin from just moments ago, in its place is.. shock? Perplexity? 

“And why exactly have you not kissed anyone else since then?” He asks quietly. 

“Nope,” you say, popping your lips on the p. “That's not how the game works, you don't get to add sub-questions.” 

His eyes don't leave yours as he draws his next card.

His turn for truth. He glances down to read his question.

“Have you ever wanted to have sex with any of the players?” 

Forget your cheeks feeling warm - your entire body feels like it's on fire as you wait for him to answer. 

He chuckles, tossing the card on top of the other two that had already been picked. 

“Every goddamn day since I kissed her almost two years ago.” 

You aren't sure which one of you snaps first. You lunge forward at the same moment that he's leaning across the splay of cards to grasp your face in his hands just like he did in that corridor two years ago. The same hint of spearmint on his breath, a bit more stubble on his jaw, and a sense of desperation that wasn't there before. 

He moves his hands to your lower back, pulling you flush against him as you both sit on your knees. Your own hands find the hem of his shirt, your fingers dancing across the skin of his waistline. 

“I asked you why you haven't kissed anyone since we last kissed,” he murmurs against your lips when he pulls away, both of you breathless. “You don't have to answer, but that..” his mouth moves to the side of your throat where he trails open-mouth kisses across the sensitive flesh of your pulse point. 

“That's why I haven't kissed anyone else, either.” 

A pathetic, small moan escapes past your lips at his admission. In a split second decision, you take control. You place your hands across his chest, pushing him down onto the shag rug that you'd been playing games on just moments ago. He lets himself fall back, pulling you with him. 

You straddle him, positioning yourself directly on his already evident erection. You drag yourself forwards, and then backwards, desperate for friction - he groans beneath you, jutting upwards. 

The fabric of your pants between you feels like a prison. 

You scoot back a few inches - just far enough to give yourself enough room to unbutton his jeans. 

“Wait, wait,” he stops you as you're about to begin pulling down his pants and underwear. You freeze, petrified that you've crossed a line– 

“I haven't stopped thinking about having your thighs wrapped around my head since I saw them earlier,” he says as he hooks his hands around them and hauls you up to his chest. “Take these off and sit on my face.” He tugs on the waistline of your leggings. 

“If you wanted me to take my pants off for you so badly, you could have just said so,” you echo his earlier teasing. 

“I'm asking you now, sweetheart,” his voice has a strained edge to it. “Don't make me beg.” 

Though the notion of him begging has wetness pooling down your thighs, you're too eager to entertain it. 

You stand up, directly above him as he keeps his position on the floor. You shimmy your leggings down your thighs, this time completely removing them and tossing them somewhere behind you. He tugs his t-shirt over his head and throws it in the general direction of your discarded pants. 

With you still standing above him, he leans forward so that his face brushes against the inside of your thighs. He brings his hands to the band of your underwear, hooking his fingers and slowly pulling them down until they're at your ankles. 

You slip them off as he lays back down on the floor. A bit apprehensively, you sit so that your bare pussy is against his hard chest. 

“Just stop me if it's too uncomfortable or if you can't breathe or any–” 

He cuts you off by all but picking you up and hauling you up to his face.

“I wouldn't worry about that,” his voice vibrates against the flesh of your innermost thighs. He tugs you down just one more inch so that his mouth makes contact with your center. 

You gasp out in pleasure as his tongue begins exploring your folds. There's no restraint about it - he sets a brutal pace, alternating between fucking his tongue into your cunt and sucking on your clit. 

You're writhing above him, grinding your pussy against his mouth. You go to squeeze your breasts, pulling your t-shirt off when you realize it's the one clothing article you've yet to shed. 

When he realizes that you're now completely naked above him, he lets out an animalistic groan as he laps a thick lick up your center. 

The vibration, in addition to him now squeezing your ass with enough pressure that he's bound to leave behind fingertip shaped bruises, is enough to send you spiraling to your climax. 

You involuntarily squeeze your thighs around his cheeks, riding out your orgasm as he continues to wrap his lips around your throbbing clitoris. 

You go still for a moment, aside from your heaving chest, as you come back down to earth. 

You climb off of him, your jellified legs nearly causing you to collapse onto the floor next to him. 

He props himself up with one arm, looking down at you. His face is thoroughly glistening with your juices. 

You can't help but think he's never looked hotter. 

A proud grin begins to form across his features as you pull him down to you by the back of his neck. 

You kiss him with as much feverency as you can muster in your post orgasm haze, tasting the semi-sweet tang of your come on his lips and tongue. 

“It's your turn to get these off,” you demand, drawing back from the kiss to pull at the waistband of his pants. 

“Can I at least take you to the comfy bed before this goes any further?” he bargains. “You are still recovering from multiple injuries, you know.” 

“I can assure you that I've never felt better.” But you let him have his way. He stands before picking you up, lifting you so that you can wrap your legs securely around his midsection. His large hands planted firmly on your ass, he walks the short distance to the bedroom. Your nipples pebble as they press against his bare chest. 

He gently places you on top of the comforter before standing back, at last removing his jeans and boxers. His cock springs forward, slapping against his lower belly. 

Your mouth goes dry at the sight. If it had been a long time since you had been kissed, it had been even longer since you had been fucked. 

He crawls onto the bed, hovering above where you lay. You automatically open your legs to allow him between them. 

His eyes rake up and down your body, pausing on your breasts. 

"You're goddamn stunning.” 

Before you can respond, he's leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. Rolling it between his teeth, the sensation has you arching your back into his touch. You can feel the tip of his cock jutting against your core - teasing but not yet entering. 

He starts to line himself up at your hole, his eyes locking onto yours as he pumps himself in his hand. He brings his lips down to yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth at the same moment he nudges his tip past your entrance. 

There's a blissful burn as he cautiously buries himself inside you - you're simultaneously thankful that he's going slow and needing him balls deep. He pushes in, inch by inch, until you're filled to the hilt. When he can't get any deeper, he pulls back - and slams back into you all at once. 

You swear you can feel him in your stomach. You look down at where your bodies connect, the sight of him sliding in and out of you enough to have you on the edge of climaxing again already. 

He brings his metal hand to knead your breast. 

"Do you have any idea how many times I've pictured having you under me like this?” He coos. You gyrate your hips to meet his thrusts, causing his eyes to roll back into his head.��

“How many times I've thought about what your little moans would sound like?” 

Your only answer is a gutteral moan of his name as you wrap your arms around him and dig your nails into the flesh of his back. 

“Your pussy feels even more like heaven than I imagined it would.” 

His praises send you over the edge - you're coming for a second time, clenching around him as his thrusts grow messy. He fucks you through your orgasm before he loses control himself, burying his face in the curve of your neck as he spills into you. 

With you still panting and limp beneath him,  his movements gradually come to a stop but he doesn't pull out - instead he flips you to your side and maneuvers himself into a spooning position behind you. 

He peppers soft kisses along the skin of your shoulder, being careful to avoid your stitches, and relaxes beside you. 

“Remind me to dislocate my knee more often,” you joke, processing everything that just happened. 

He snorts, then tilts your head up to meet his gaze. “Remind me to play truth or dare with you more often.” He captures your lips in his, this kiss slower than any of the ones before. 

“I guess it would be weird to make you do my laundry for two weeks now, huh?” He teases, earning a laugh from you.

“You do still owe me a pizza, but I'll be happy to share it with you.” 

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

[sadesluvr]

Beautiful Liar

After you boyfriend Randy is tragically murdered, Billy is determined to be the shoulder you cry on.

A/N: Been sitting on this idea for a while. Please read the tags, and minors DNI!

Word count: 3.6K

Tags: SMUT / DUB-CON / Dacryphilia / Manipulation / Grief / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Loss of virginity / Corruption kink / Gaslighting / Misogyny / Reader has a vagina / Fingering

Randy Meeks was dead, and there was no way to change that.  

He’d been murdered, brutally; his body in tatters, bloody mess left on the stockroom floor of the video store he’d worked at. Police had said it was a homicide, just another in a series of attacks by the infamous masked ‘Ghostface’ killer that had been running around Woodsboro. The whole town, your friend group included, had been speculating the person – or people’s - identity, wondering if they were male or female, old or young, insider or outsider...either way, the sole question was why. Why Woodsboro? Why now? Why your friends?  

The simple answer – in Randy’s case at least – was that you were living in a classic horror movie, in which none of you would get out of alive unless you followed the rules, (which was the sole reason why you hadn’t slept with him during your relationship) but that particular answer was far from satisfying to you. First Sidney’s mother had disappeared, next was Casey and her boyfriend, soon followed by Sidney’s father, Tatum, Randy and Sidney herself, leaving only you to remain. You were, as Randy would dub it, ‘the final girl’. 

And you hated it. Randy painted these women as strong, brave, heroic, even, but you were far from it; instead worn down and shattered by the massacre of those closest to you over the past six months. There was a reason that the term was only reserved for the movies; it was too difficult, maybe even downright impossible to be able to fight back in real life, especially when it had happened so constantly and so close to home. There were few words you had to speak anymore, and when you did you found that they were only able to materialise around Billy Loomis. 

Billy, and his friend Stu Macher were the only of those that remained. Randy would’ve chalked it down to it being intentional, but the only pattern you could see was that they were killing ‘boy-girl-boy-girl’, which meant either of the two could’ve been next. 

So, imagine your shock – and horror – when Stu had gone missing, leaving nothing but a bloodied shoe in his wake. It was the only death of your friends that you hadn’t been to; no morgue visits or ceremonies, with Billy choosing to spend the day with you after he claimed that the Macher’s had just wanted family at his funeral. You would’ve been hurt, but considering you’d spent the past few months feeling like a curse, you were rather happy to keep your distance. 

“Thanks for staying with me…” you sighed, rubbing your red eyes. You’d been crying over Randy again, and although Billy wasn’t someone who liked dealing with emotions, he’d been a shoulder to cry on – literally – his silence giving you space to vent. “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess…” 

“I think you’re taking this too hard,” he said simply, watching you intently as you tried to compose yourself. “None of this is your fault. There are psychos everywhere.” 

“Yeah, but why us? How am I still here?” you gasped, the question blatantly rhetorical.  

“Luck. And skill. You’ve been in the right place at the right time,” he sniffed. “Maybe the killer doesn’t want you dead...” 

“Oh, that’s comforting.” You scoffed, dabbing at your nose with a tissue. He didn’t reply, but he tapped his finger impatiently along the edge of the sofa as his eyes roamed your body.  

You used to be such a sweet little thing; always dolled up in your signature clothes and makeup, but now you were timid, a recluse, even, walking around in Randy’s old shirts and running on two hours of sleep (if that). He couldn’t argue – solely because he’d been the one to cause this - but in time he’d get you back to the way you were. In fact, he might’ve even enjoyed this broken version of you even more; with swollen lips, a melancholy glow, and a psyche that was desperate for affection that only your former boyfriend could’ve given to you. 

Killing Randy had been exhilarating. It’d been all too easy, the boy practically boasted about his job (and therefore his schedule), and then it had been down to hiding in the stock room on his late shift, only to lunge at him from the shadows, pointed blade digging in and ravaging his pale flesh, all the while he screamed – even cried – your name. That was your knight in shining armour, a guy who’d failed to follow the rules he swore to live by. Pathetic. 

He’d shown him his face right before he died, remembering the way his eyes, though dull and rubber like a fish, had seemingly shone with recognition. He’d put the pieces together, simply far too late. 

“Don’t worry, Randy,” he’d said. “I’ll take good care of your little girlfriend.” 

Even in his moribund state, the nerd had known what he’d meant, his eyes flickering with worry just as the life had snapped out of him, the whole situation comically cinematic. All that was next was to kill Sidney, the girl that Randy adored before you’d even transferred to Woodsboro. It was simple; Sidney was collateral, and you were a spoil of war. And there was no one left to save you. 

“I think you should go outside,” Billy said bluntly. “Being inside all day isn’t good for your head.” 

You sighed and wiped your face, glancing around your living room. Truthfully, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d opened the curtains; much less when was the last time you’d gotten off the couch. The television was always on, and you’d done nothing but aimlessly flick through the channels, both avoiding yet drawing yourself to the news, hoping there’d be an update on the killer. It struck you as odd that it had all gone silent. 

“Like...Where?” you said incredulously, and Billy resisted the urge to sigh. 

“We could go to the movies,” he suggested. “It’ll be on me. I’ll even let you watch those terrible romance ones with the sappy endings.” 

You seemed to perk up at this, glancing over at the time on the clock across the room. It was 6:15, and if you showered quick enough (and found some clean, unwrinkled clothes) you could make it to a random seven o’clock screening. It was kind enough that Billy was here with you, but offering to take you to a romance film took selfishness out of the question – he was a true friend, treating you in the same way he had Sidney.

You, like many others, had joked about how perfect he was, often wishing that Randy had been the same way. He’d been nice, without a doubt, but sometimes he was erratic and clingy (some would say annoying), whereas Billy was far more level-headed and relaxed, evident through his constant support. It was time for you to smile, even if it would be temporary. 

“Okay...” You whispered with a weak smile, standing to your feet. “Give me a minute, I’m just gonna freshen up.”   

Billy’s deep brown eyes followed your figure as you walked past him and disappeared up the stairs. Sitting for a moment, he stared at the blaring screen of the television before shutting it off. Considering your state, he’d been surprised that it had been that easy, but apparently all it took for a girl to come around was the promise of a free outing and cliche love stories. The silence was telling – your parents weren’t around – and he pondered your reaction to his arrival in your bedroom...for company, of course. 

Pushing himself up from the couch, he followed you, his shoes barely making a noise as he made his way up the steps before stopping at your bedroom door, being a gentleman and taking his shoes off before he entered. A crack of light from the doorway of the bathroom told him that it was occupied, and so he took it as a signal to enter your threshold, wasting no time in rummaging through your drawers.  

He ran his lithe fingers over the outlines of your bra, following the soft cotton and curved shape as he imagined holding your tits in his hands, groping and tugging on them as you rode his cock, screaming and moaning his name so loudly that you forgot all about your idiot boyfriend.

It was the same with your panties, except he wanted to cut them off you, to watch as your legs trembled from trying to avoid the blade; only to get nipped, ruby rivulets trickling down your thighs. He’d rub it, smear the substance across your skin as he tried to soothe you, your fluids coating his skin and fingernails, only to been mixed with the translucent l cream of your orgasm – over and over and over again.  

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, he waited for you to come in, raising his brows at your squeal upon seeing him. You were only in a dressing gown, with your bra peeking out of the sides of the fluffy material. If he wasn’t already hard, he certainly was now. 

“Billy!” You gasped. “I told you to wait downstairs!” 

“I got bored,” he shrugged. “I wanted to see more of you.” 

You gave him a pointed look as you scraped your earrings off the dresser, clipping them on as you paced around the room in search of an outfit.  

“You know me,” you chuckled. “We’ve been friends for a year.” 

“Yeah, but do you ever really know someone?” He said softly, his gaze locked on your own as he cocked his head, blinking slowly at your confused expression. There was something unsettling about his tone, and you couldn’t help but think back to one of Randy’s many pained rants: “Never trust anyone. Everyone’s a suspect, even the love interest!” Did he know something you didn’t, or was he just being his typical, elusive self?

“I mean, come on now, Y/N. Look around. There’s no one left…just us. I think it’s time we got to know each-other.” 

Pulling on some pants under your gown, you frowned. 

“What’re you saying?” 

“We should be closer than we are,” he said softly, reaching out a hand to fiddle with the strap of your gown leisurely, his eye contact fleeting, but coy. “How else are we going to get through this?” 

Your eyes widened, and you gave Billy a once over as you contemplated the implications of his words. He’d never really been that much of the touchy type up until now, and it couldn’t be coincidental that all of a sudden he’d become so close to you. Perhaps it was the stress; the trauma of losing his friends that made him feel like he needed to fill the void. Or maybe it was genuine, that he wanted to stick through this real-life tragedy with you. Why else would he stay the long nights and weekends, watching TV with you or offering you his snacks?  

“Y-You’re a good friend,” you stammered. “Really. But I just don’t know if I can let anyone close to me anymore. What if you get killed!?” You choked, and Billy pulled you to the side of him, pressing your head into the crook of his neck as you sobbed. Tracing small circles on your back, he let you fix yourself before he pulled away, staring into your eyes as he spoke. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly. “I promise. And you know why?” 

You shook your head. 

“I spoke to Randy a few days before he died. He was  paranoid – you know how he was – I guess you could say that he had a sense he was going to die…” Billy paused, eyes flickering with recognition before he swallowed and continued. “…He said that if anything were to happen to him, that I should be the one to take care of you. He knew how close you were with Sidney, and she’d have wanted the same.” 

Shakily, your lips parted as you took a breath. Sidney, like many others, had always gushed about how sweet Billy was – particularly how patient he’d been when it’d come to having sex. It would only be logical for them to say that, given the fact that Stu was the only other candidate. No one else would’ve stuck beside you, putting up with your weeks of moping and incessant crying. It was only right that you started giving him some thanks. After all, he was all you had left. 

“O-okay,” you smiled softly before wrinkling your nose. You were so close to Billy that strands of his hair was grazing against your face, and you could smell the faint scent of his cologne – icy, yet comforting. “I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I guess I got so wrapped up in thinking about Randy that I haven’t really been grateful to you. Come on, let’s go out —“ 

“This isn’t about the movies.” Billy interjected, his brows slightly  wrinkled. “This is about you. You’re a girl, and you have needs.”  

You froze, always worried it would come to this.  

“I can’t let you do that,” you said affirmatively. “You were with Sidney, she was my friend —“ 

“She’s gone now,” he said, zero inklings of emotion detected within his voice. “Just like Randy’s gone. I have needs too, you know. You’re not really being a good friend by ignoring them.” 

“Billy…” 

“You mean a lot to me,” he continued, placing a hand on your thigh, rubbing it in a slow but enticing manner. “I think about you a lot. I want to do more to help you…but you’re not letting me.” 

You knew it was wrong to go there, but part of you knew that he had a point. There was no use in festering in misery; Randy, Sidney and the rest of your friends were gone for good, and there was ultimately nothing that would change that. All you could do was focus on what you had now, and that was Billy; patient, willing, and ready to carry out the wishes of your deceased friends. You just had to let him in. 

Silently, you nodded, and he took that as confirmation to kiss you. His lips were warm and wanting, but certainly felt unfamiliar, and you found that it took you a while to find a suitable rhythm. Billy wasted no time in pushing you back onto the bed, kissing down your neck as he straddled you, the faint outline of his hardening cock brushing against your covered leg. His hands lingered on the tie of your robe, glancing down at it with a smirk before pulling it undone, exposing your semi-nude torso to the cool air of the bedroom. 

Your heart leapt out of your chest; not because what you were doing was taboo, but because you’d never done it before. You were about to lose your virginity to your dead friend’s boyfriend – something that your cloudy mind couldn’t comprehend.  

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, leaving love bits on your chest as his fingers slipped under your bra and pinching and rubbing at the surrounding skin and sensitive nipples. “Randy didn’t know what he had…” 

Letting out a moan, you allowed yourself to be consumed by him, pushing off his open button-up so that he was left in his white shirt. He didn’t look much, but his arms were surprisingly muscular, and you found yourself tracing along the outlines of his skin, inadvertently pulling him closer.  

Billy pulled away, a smirk visible on his face as he unzipped his pants, sliding his trousers to his ankles before readjusting himself on the bed. Taking your hand, he guided you off the bed and brought you to your feet. 

“Strip for me,” he lulled, watching you intently for a reaction. “I want to see how pretty you are…” 

Nervously, you peeled the robe off your body, dropping it to the floor at the edge of your bed before undoing your pants, all under the watchful, jaded eyes of Billy Loomis. As cliched as it sounded, you felt like a bride on her wedding night, nerves released by Billy’s soothing coos and gentle touch. He patted the bed – yours, which you seemed to forget – and you laid down, taking laboured breaths as his brown locks disappeared between your thighs, skin breaking into goosebumps as he slid your panties down your legs. 

“You’re wet...” he hummed, placing his index and middle together before rubbing your hood in small, deliberate circles. “I think you wanted me more than you let on.” 

“B-Billy...” you gasped, shutting your eyes at the pleasurable sensation. “I-I’ve never...” 

“Shh, I know, I know...” he whispered, his touch becoming rougher as he prodded and spread your lips apart, admiring your insides like some sort of fucked-up doctor. “ ‘M gonna make you feel good, but you need a little practise first...” 

Billy began to finger you, withdrawing his digits every so often to admire the way the slickness of your arousal coated his skin, glossy and translucent, the feeling second only to the blood of his victims on his skin. As he curled his fingers within you, he found that you began to shake and clench; your orgasm abruptly evident.

As much as he wanted to indulge in it, he wanted to savour you – and so pulled his fingers out, earning a breathy whine from you. Hastily, he lowered his boxers, his erect cock jutting out like a weapon as he stalked you, pushing your body deep into the pillows as he straddled you. 

“D-Do you have protection...?” you whispered meekly, and Billy could’ve came right there and then at the sight of you, lips parted and begging to be kissed as you gazed at him through your lashes.  

“No...” he replied, watching the fear wash over your face. “But it’s ok. I was safe with Sidney, and you’ve never had sex, right? That means you’re good.” 

Biting your lip, you debated protesting, but found it wasn't worth it. You wanted him – needed this – and you were already sinning by fucking your dead friends’ boyfriend. What did unprotected sex have on that? 

“You’re right,” you said with a small smile, puffing your cheeks as you prepared for him to enter you. “Be gentle...” 

“I wouldn’t dream of hurting you,” he said firmly, eyes unblinking as he adjusted himself at your entrance, the edge of his cock grazing against your folds. “We’re in this together, remember?” 

You knew he meant it when he kissed you upon his penetration, his lips swallowing your whine as he entered you. He wasn’t by any means a stallion – simply averaged sized – but he filled you almost instantly, a dull ache forming around your walls as he began to thrust his hips up into you. If this was what sex was like; rhythmic, passionate, if not a little sharp-edged, then you were partially sad that you hadn’t got to experience it with Randy...the remaining deeply selfish part of you glad that it was with Billy. 

He seemed to know every part of you, where to kiss, where to rub, where to hold – when to slow down and when to quicken, all adorned with his sweet nothings that he spoke into your neck, ever so occasionally peering up at you through his lashes, his exact thoughts elusive to you. He cared, right? Why else would he hold you so close to him, kiss your collarbone, rub and soothe your thighs as he rolled his hips deeper, your pelvises slapping against each other in the heat of the moment? 

“You’re so tight,” he moaned as your lips gripped his bare shaft. “So good to me...Taking me so well...” 

You whined, the sound getting lost under the slight creaking of the bed and the rustle of your bedsheets, tightening your arms around his neck as you drew him closer into you and running a hand through his hair. Billy was thankful, thankful that you couldn’t see his shit-eating smirk from this position onto of you, but much more for Randy; as if he hadn’t had been such a paranoid nerd, he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to imprint himself on you forever. 

His strokes were deep and fulfilling, the head of his cock beginning to buck up into your g-spot, pleasure made more overwhelming as he reached down again to rub at your clit. It was dark, somewhat twisted, but it was perfect; and you could actually feel your anxieties disappear entirely. Who was Randy? Had you ever really loved him? 

Even amongst your white haze as you got closer to the heat of your orgasm, you were able to make out the sound of a lock opening. Your eyes shot open, trying to piece together footsteps and visible signs of entry – Billy had been the only one to come in, perhaps he’d forgotten to lock the door? Or maybe it was your parents, home early from their outing? Worse, maybe it was the killer, dead on arrival like the Grim Reaper as soon as you’d gone against the rules and had sex. 

“Billy —“ you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as his cock hit your sensitive spot. “The door…I-I think someone’s here…” 

“Shh, you’re okay…” he murmured into your ear. “I didn’t hear anything…” 

A plunging, shaking feeling consumed you as you came, half-lidded eyes making out the shape of a gloved hand and knife creeping from behind the door. Instinctively, you opened your mouth to scream, but nothing came from it. All you could do was lie there, throat parched and the air knocked out of your lungs as you watched the figure enter the room; not hooded, masked or even bloody – but taking the shape and form of a tall, lanky boy with blonde hair. 

Stu was alive, and Billy had lied to you. 

[lizsos]

The shower

Summary: Tatter comes home and rewards you in the.....

TW!! : g!p , dirty talking , no protection MDNI )

( Tatter x Reader )

( Short)

[ Tatter's POV ]

I came back from from work feeling exhausted as ever . I had such a huge amount of work that I needed to finish in two weeks . So, for two weeks continuously I've been staying at work until late at night , desperately trying to finish up everything before the deadline . Because of this , things have been rocky between y/n and I- physically, mentally and even sexually . But thankfully , she understands how important it was and I was glad that she still supported and understood my situation . Finally I've manged to finish all the work and I've been given 3 days off . I've never been happier truly . I was super excited to spend them with y/n .

I entered our apartment , expected to be greeted lovingly by y/n but she was nowhere to be found . "Y/n baby~ I'm home! Where are you ? " I called out but no response was heard . I scurried up to our bedroom to dpfind her but she wasn't there as well . I was about to call her again but when I heard the sound of water running from our bathroom . I quietly entered the bathroom and stood by the sink admiring my gorgeous girlfriend.

I licked my lips as I eyed her up and down as the water travelled down beautiful body . Looking at her body like that made my little buddy down there twitch and he was becoming hard each second. Suddenly an Idea popped in my head making me smirk.

Tatter quickly but quietly removed her clothes and slowly entered the shower along with you . Tatter wrapped her long arms around your waist scaring you . "Tatter ! You scared me ! When did you get home? " Tatter didn't answer but instead kissed your lips " Take this as a reward for understanding and waiting for me" Tatter whispered in your ears and quickly attached her lips back with yours . You moaned loudly as Tatter shoved her tounge into your mouth , exploring every inch of your wet cavern . Tatter's tounge meets yours as you both fought for dominance leaving Tatter as the winner . Tatter pushes you behind slowly until both of you got your bodies soaked with water . Tatter lowers her hands and caresses your body . Tatter places her hands on your as and gives it a squeeze resulting a load moan from you.

Tatter detaches her lips from yours and reattaches it back kn your neck bitting and licking on your sweet spot then she uses her free hand and places it on your breasts pumping it slowly before placing her hand on your soaking pussy , rubbing it up and down on your slit . You moan loudly as you felt the tip of Tatters dick creating an intense amount of pressure on your slit . Your moans became whimpers as you became needy for Tatter to enter her shaft in you. You tried to speak out but couldn't due to the amount of pleasure your feeling . " T-Tatter please " was the only thing that you managed to choke put . "Please what baby? Use your words" Tatter teased as she continued to rub her tip on you . "Baby please, fuck me" "fuck me hard " you said making Tatter release a heavy breath .

Tatter pounded her full length into your aching core making you scream in bliss . You Lifted your legs and wrapped it around Tattes waist allowing her to go much deeper in you. Tatter pusher you roughly until your back hits the wall and closes the tap shower . She pounds into you as hard as she can while devouring your breasts . Your breath hitches and you whimper while bucking your hips along with Tatter . "I-Im cumming-" and with that Tatter increased her pace fucking you wildly and harshly . "Im cumming to baby" within seconds , Tatter unleashed her load into you while you covered Tatters dick with your juices .

You and Tatter are breathing heavily while staring at each other lovingly . As the sexual tension slowly disappeares around the room . After a while , the both of you calmed down , Tatter slowly pulled out and pulled you into a passionate hug . "I missed this so much! But I missed you more~" you said while hugging her back . Tatter giggled and tightend her grip around around your body . "Me too baby! I'm sorry for not being there for you ! But now you don't have to worry about it anymore . Now let's clean ourselves and cuddle after that . How's that? " you giggled " thats sounds wonderful~" .

[swordgrace]

𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖.

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

SYNOPSIS: serving as a healer on the frontlines of a war that is tearing the realm apart, you come to tend the wounds of the warden of the north. inspired by robb & talisa’s relationship.

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anonymous.

{ WORD COUNT: 8.2K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), fic is inspired by robb & talisa’s relationship, description of wounds/injuries, mentions of violence & war, canon-typical misogyny (cregan goes to the northern school of feminism), heavy mutual pining, both cregan and reader have experience, p in v sex, unprotected sex, all stark men have a breeding kink, size kink (cregan is much taller/bigger than reader), fingering (fem!rec), biting, breast play, hair-pulling, rain-soaked cregan, bed/cot breaking, lotus position, riding/cowgirl, gentle-ish sex, soft ending + aftercare

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: Back with another Cregan fic! I absolutely love writing for him & this request was so perfect. This is taking place during the wars (HOTD S3). Thank you guys so much for your continued support and kindness, it means a ton to me! I hope you all enjoy! ❤️

𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 — 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡.

Yet, as he lay in his tent, feeling the bitter sting of what pain could bring, face-to-face with carnage, he felt some semblance of fear. It was the only time that a man could ever be brave, in the face of such strife. The Riverlands were occupied by Ser Criston Cole for some time, and in the name of the true Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, Cregan Stark aimed to reclaim it.

The road to the Riverlands had been a lengthy one, hard on his force of Winter Wolves, greybeards that itched for combat. They were met with resistance at every turn after crossing the Twins, yet they endured, still a force of nearly two-thousand men.

More were on their way from the North, bannermen of all ilk and family called to-arms at Winterfell, to ride North and join his forces in the Riverlands. Despite his youthful age of one-and-twenty, Cregan was a fierce and proficient fighter, better than a great deal of the men under his command.

Struck by a stray arrow and slashed with a blade, he bared his injuries incredibly well — better than most. Cregan’s stalwart, hardened exterior served him well, never giving way to the pain he felt beneath. The arrow had gone clean through, thankfully. Much of his recovery was simply bandages and time.

He chafed at the notion of being bound to his tent for days on-end — he wanted to be with his men, helming any attacks, leading them to victory. He was useless here, abdomen wrapped in soiled bandages, laid-up and no good to anyone.

The healers who passed through all possessed older, wrinkled faces — men who had seen countless wars, perhaps thrice his age, acclaimed in talent and skill with the art of mending wounds and sewing bone together.

Imagine Cregan’s bewilderment when a young woman entered his tent one dismal morning.

You couldn’t have been much younger than him, clad in a tattered, coarse dress with a hem steeped in mud, white apron sullied with countless stains. Much of the cruor on your garments wasn’t your own, the blood of Stark men, men from White Harbor.

“Good morrow, Lord Stark.” The songbird’s lull of your voice had made him unusually calm, as if able to quell the growing tide of irritation he’d felt with his inaction. You brought with you a basket of supplies, tools of the trade that you had to scrounge around to get.

Men never looked upon a woman-healer with interest or a desire to teach — much of what you knew was from your own mother, or things you’d observed and taught yourself from piles of books at your disposal. Though, you found yourself excelling within your area of expertise.

Perplexed, Cregan watched you hawkishly, sluggishly sitting up from his bed of furs, a low grunt escaping him in the process. “My Lady,” He greeted with a nod of his head, muscles aching and sore from the clashes and skirmishes, coupled with time spent on the road. “You are a new face.”

Part of you wondered if he would take offense, given that you were a lady, but you decided not to address it. “I certainly hope that it isn’t a disappointment,” You mused, placing your supplies down at his bedside. “Other hands were needed elsewhere.”

He wasn’t disappointed in the slightest.

Cregan found you to be breathtakingly beautiful — it took one stolen glance for him to discern that. Your very presence seemed to flourish with warmth and amiability. It was a welcome change from the old men who poked and prodded at him, and he wouldn’t complain about being in the presence of someone his own age.

With a huff, he shook his head, wisps of chestnut tresses framing his visage. “Not at all,” He murmured, studying you with a thinly-veiled intrigue. “A welcome change.” Cregan replied, catching your amiable smile, as warm and as bright as the first inkling of springtime.

You had seen Cregan only in-passing, brief moments where you spotted the young Lord atop his dark steed, or stomping through muddied encampments alongside his soldiers. Now, up-close, you realized how young he really looked, with a youthful, babyish visage that did not match his stony expression or wisened, gray eyes.

“You say that now, but you’ll have to get used to me first, my Lord.” You mused, reaching for the first wrap of his soiled bandages. It was easier to make small-talk in the midst of situations like these — it often eased your nerves, gave you something else to think about.

Cregan moved his arms just enough, allowing you to unravel the crimson-crusted bandages. There was some momentary relief, without the scratching and irritation of coarse linen, wounds exposed to the lick of fresh air.

A steady exhale escaped him, and he watched as you discarded the bandages, fetching more from your basket, coupled with some strange poultice in a jar. He did not recall his former caretakers ever giving him something like that, and he refused Milk of the Poppy.

“How long have you had an interest in this?” Cregan inquired, genuinely interested in what led you down such a path. It wasn’t commonplace for a woman of your station, not in the slightest. He would never discourage it, but he was itching to know.

As you wrung out a cloth of hot water, you brought it to his left shoulder, thick and burly with muscle, gingerly swiping over the wound to clean it. “Many years,” You hummed, brows furrowing together in concentration. “My father didn’t like it, but I learned what I could from others.”

Cregan was the stoic sort, an indomitable mountain of a man who appeared so rugged and indifferent, yet he possessed a gentle hand and heart when away from wandering eyes. He listened attentively, soothed by the tenderness in your touch.

Becoming a Maester was something you’d desired in your youth, yet the Citadel never allowed for women to study and attain the position. You were left to your own devices, a life of healing and service to those who needed it most, and you were content with that. You would forge your own Maester’s Chain.

You then pressed the cloth against the still-swollen gash from the sword across his abdomen, the flesh around it somewhat angry and reddened. “You took quite a beating. I have no desire to see who was on the other end of your blade.”

A soft huff escaped him as he rolled his shoulders, dwarfing you completely in size and stature. Even for a man of his youth, he seemed imposing, larger than plenty of young men his age. “Best not to dwell on it,” He grunted, stormy hues following you wherever you went. “You are not a Northerner.”

The lack of a Northern accent gave it away, but you also spoke properly and eloquently, as if you had been raised somewhere with plenty of civility. “The Stormlands — I am from Bronzegate.” You replied, which happened to earn you a very threadbare smile from Lord Stark.

“A Southerner, then,” A twinge of amusement seemed interwoven with his gruff, husky timbre, a voice that you were rather charmed by. He was mesmerizing to listen to, Northern dialect and deeper voice marked by a stalwart calm. “What are you doing here?”

As you cleaned away the sluggish ooze of cruor, you ensured that his wounds were free of dirt or dried blood, inspecting them for infection. “Finding my way in the world,” You confessed, reaching for the jar of herbal poultice, a salve that you had made yourself. “As we all are.”

Cregan could respect your honesty and earnestness in knowing that you didn’t know what you were doing with your life — sometimes, he didn’t know, either. It was easy to forget oneself when tasked with the charge of leadership, easy to allow it to become a burden instead of a challenge.

Dipping your fingertips into the salve, you gently spread it across the wound on his shoulder, the strange concoction icy against his hot flesh. “What is that?” He questioned, the unusual smell of it stinging his nostrils. Whatever it was, it felt incredible.

“A salve that I made,” You chimed, clicking your tongue as you concentrated on spreading it thin, layering it across his skin. “It’s not something conventional. I exchanged certain herbs for others, and added something of my own. It takes the sting away, numbs the flesh around the wound.”

It did take the sting away, as you said, and soothed his wound at the same time. Cregan admired your ingenuity, charmed and ensnared by you. He hadn’t expected to enjoy your company as much as he was, which was always enough to draw some concern.

A union formed out of wedlock was a dangerous one, but these were perilous times, in the midst of war. He was bound to no one — he had no one. Gray hues silently appraised you, and whenever you got close enough, he could feel your sweet breath upon his flesh, smell the faint aroma of wildflowers and a dab of honey.

“If you are willing, I’d like to have your ingredients. It would be worthwhile for the rest of the healers to craft it, too. Do not waste it all on me.” Cregan rumbled, a soft sigh of relief escaping him as you spread the poultice all along the gash across his abdomen.

The instantaneous relief he felt made him relax, the tension unfurling within his shoulders. Once the salve began to dry just slightly, you took to bandaging him again, nearly chest-to-chest with him when you wrapped the linen around his torso.

Cregan’s jaw tensed, muscles tightening whenever you pressed closer, even if the action was a necessity. You felt the onslaught of warmth creep into your features, goosebumps cascading down your spine with the intensity of his gaze.

You happened to meet his smoldering stare for just a moment, butterflies swelling within the pit of your stomach, followed by a rush of heat that seeped into your very bones. “I will provide you with the list tomorrow.” You murmured, finishing wrapping up his wound.

The arrow puncture on his shoulder was something that you covered in a few layers of sturdier medicinal cloth, before wrapping it once to keep it stable. You had backed away slightly, the close proximity having made your nerves spark to life.

It was a warmth and intimacy that you hadn’t touched before, unfamiliar yet wild with curiosity. Perhaps you had a tryst with a young man back in Bronzegate, but never to this degree of intensity. Cregan gazed at you as if you were the only one to exist.

“I am finished here,” That was enough to shatter Cregan’s incendiary look, the heat dissipating from his gray hues. His visage resumed that stone-faced look, and he suddenly remembered himself and the bonds of propriety. “I will visit tomorrow with your list, if that’s all you need from me.”

He noticed how you straightened, posture somewhat rigid, fingertips stained in dried blood and cruor. You retrieved what supplies you had, placing them all back into your basket before you curtsied, as a Lady would before a Lord.

“You do not have to bow, my Lady,” Cregan assured, standing to his feet with a strenuous grunt. He was massive even when sitting before you, but seeing him upright and so close — Gods take you for the things you began to ponder and imagine. “I am grateful for your aid in these dour times.”

Cregan was as stubborn as an old mule, despite being so young. Rarely did he accept help from other people, preferring to do it all himself and be the guiding example, but this was something he was not practiced at.

“It is my duty, my Lord. It is a responsibility that I share for yourself, and for your soldiers. I pray that the Gods will usher you into a swift recovery, and victory.” That smile — Gods, you had a beautiful smile. It could melt even the hardiest of ice, bring exuberance and joy to those who had none. “I should take my leave.”

“Of course,” Cregan bowed his head, timbre gentle and akin to the roll of thunder before an encroaching thunderstorm. He retrieved his tunic from the foot of his bed, and before you could disappear from the tent, he cleared his throat. “What is your name, my Lady?”

You smiled, gaze dancing with a twinge of mischief and amusement as you chewed at the inside of your cheek. Lingering within the entryway of his tent, you took one, deliberate step backwards.

“I suppose you’ll have to learn that tomorrow.”

Sitting idly by while a war raged nearby had soured Cregan’s mood exponentially.

He had stared at the canvas canopy of his tent for so long that he began to lose count of the hours. It was only when his second-in-command harkened him to the war table, that he obeyed.

Green forces had stationed a battalion at The Trident, and the rest were attempting to seize Harrenhal from Daemon Targaryen and his Rivermen. Cregan intended on cutting off the battalion, ripping them out root and stem, effectively carving away a portion of Cole’s forces.

War was an ugly thing — killing a man never pleased him as it did some, but it was an unfortunate necessity. Ensuring that Rhaenyra Targaryen took her place upon the Iron Throne was paramount, an oath he forged with her son, Jacaerys Velaryon.

Cregan covered his wounds with his tunic and a fur cloak, knowing that the weight of armor would only hinder his recovery, and he needed to be prepared for what was to come. He spoke strategy with Lord Roderick Dustin of Barrowton, before taking his leave.

You happened to occupy his thoughts — a girl from Bronzegate, with a rosy, heartening smile and a demure nature, tending to his wounded men. Not a moment passed from last eve to now, an afternoon marked by grim, gray storm clouds, that he hadn’t thought of you.

It was improper, perhaps, to think so fondly of a young maiden out of wedlock, one he barely knew, but he couldn’t help himself. He was drawn to you — and he had a feeling that you felt the same, a mutual sentiment.

The massive tent erected for those wounded in battle was marked by an ivory canvas and the hurried pace of healers floating in and out. Cregan knew where to find you, and he had learned of your name from several of his bannermen.

He spotted you outside, washing your hands free of crimson, the ends of your sleeves just as tattered and wrought with blood that didn’t belong to you. Your tresses were pulled into a braid to avoid interference with your work, brow creased in concentration.

“My Lady.” He greeted you with that familiar timbre, husky and gallant. There was a warmth that radiated from him, both in his tone and physically, that enveloped you whenever you were in his presence. He was a man of few words, but you made up for it.

Surprise settled into your features as you regarded him with mild bewilderment. You weren’t expecting him to seek you out. “My Lord,” You exhaled, bowing your head in reverence as you wiped the blood from your hands with a rag. “What are you doing out of bed?”

Cregan enjoyed your concern, staving off a threadbare smile before he shrugged, wisps of chestnut tresses fluttering with the breeze. The air smelled of rain, an approaching deluge. “You never said that I had to stay.” He stated, looking towards your hands.

A huff of laughter escaped you, hands mostly free of any blood, your knuckles bruised and bearing some scrapes. “Are you feeling well enough?” You asked, head canting to one side. There was a quell in the battle for now, allowing you time to recuperate.

“I have been for some time,” Cregan sighed, brows furrowing together. “Old men wished for me to stay abed, and I heeded them, until now.” Two wounds wouldn’t stop him — there was something powerful about him, a determination to continue even in the face of agony or strife.

You couldn’t help but smile in spite of his stubbornness — you wondered how his men dealt with him. Many soldiers and bannermen that you had conversed with praised Cregan, with nothing but honorable things to say about him. He was regarded as stoical and resigned, patient and pragmatic.

“Let me have a look. It’s the least that I can do, considering you made the trek here.” You motioned for him to follow you, sweeping the canvas aside as you beckoned him into the wounded tent. There were scores of men in worse states than he — some of them brushing close to death.

Cregan stepped behind you like a massive wall of stone, a mountain of a man, his shadow casting itself over you. Some of the healers seemed surprised with his coming here, a handful being familiar faces that had tended to him when he was first wounded.

The space in which you operated was a great deal smaller, yet tidy and orderly. He sat down with a grunt atop the cot you gestured to, shrugging off his fur cloak. Part of him felt strange for being here, considering the grievous state of some of the men.

A roll of parchment lay atop your footlocker, a lengthy list of ingredients used in your medicinal salve, the one that Cregan had requested yesterday. He watched you scurry about, fetching fresh bandages and your mysterious poultice that seemed to do him a world of good.

Some of the healers looked upon you with thinly-veiled disdain and scrutiny, eyes of wizened men who believed themselves to be better than you. A woman doing such gruesome work wasn’t exactly proper.

“Your tunic,” You murmured, averting your gaze away from Cregan’s body as he removed the smoky-blue garment, revealing his herculean musculature. The more you studied Lord Stark, the more enamored you became — he was handsome and well-spoken. Stubborn, perhaps, but most Northerners were. “Thank you.”

Cregan thoroughly enjoyed watching you work — it was a captivating thing to behold, the way you navigated a wound with such care and precision. Your hands were disarmingly gentle as you shifted the linen wrappings away, exposing his shoulder to the brisk afternoon air.

The pain had certainly diminished, moreso in his shoulder than his abdomen. In usual silence, Cregan studied you closely, storm-colored hues appraising you, committing every detail to memory. There was something breathtaking about you, a magnetizing pull that drew him in, kept him enthralled.

He reveled in the sensation of your fingertips tracing around his wound, feather-light and delicate, leaving behind a trail of fire in your wake. “It’s healed wonderfully,” You murmured, brows furrowing together as you applied a dab of honey, a natural antiseptic. You placed the bandage back over it. “How does it feel?”

“Acceptable.” He grunted, though his tone seemed somewhat warped with amusement. Your lips twitched into a brief frown, as if he wasn’t telling the whole truth. “I am well enough. You needn’t worry, my Lady.” Cregan assured, resting his thick forearms atop his thighs.

A soft sigh left you as you circled around him, coming to stand before him with a tender expression. Your countenance still seemed furrowed with concern, but he neglected to comment on it.

Peeling away the linen bandages that clung to his abdomen, the angry-red swelling had nearly dissipated, and the gash remained, still healing. “The salve seems to have helped,” You fought hard to ignore the closeness between yourself and Cregan, mere breaths apart. “The swelling has gone down.”

The scent of your warm breath fanned across his visage, basking him in your saccharine smell. Even if your garments were well-worn and speckled in gore, he could still detect the aroma of wildflowers on you.

“You have my gratitude, my Lady.” Cregan uttered, a valiant attempt to relieve some of the lingering tension. It was something he rarely, if ever, experienced with a woman — especially one such as yourself.

“You know my name already, Lord Stark. You do not have to continue to refer to me as a Lady,” A twinkle of amusement lingered within your eyes, knowing that his bannermen had shared your name with him. “I am not of noble birth, I’m afraid.”

Cregan huffed, and he realized that you were clever. The wit and fiery spirit leapt out from you on occasion, and this happened to be one of them. “Honor and good pleasantries demand that I continue to refer to you as a Lady.” He replied, tender and deep, like the shaking of a mountain.

With an amiable smile, you changed the bandages around Cregan’s torso, applying your salve before discarding the old ones. “Don’t,” You chimed, tone softening to the lull of a songbird. “Call me by my name.” You stood, wiping your hands against a swath of clean cloth.

A low, rumbling ‘hm’ escaped the man, whose chestnut brows furrowed together as he ogled you — shamelessly, this time. There was a fond playfulness laced within your banter, something that Cregan wasn’t entirely accustomed to. “Cregan.” He insisted, establishing a firm foundation for your blossoming relationship.

“Cregan.” You repeated, his name sounding sickeningly sweet from your Southern tongue. The young Lord moved to tug his tunic back on over his hulking frame, musculature working in such wondrous ways. It was difficult to tame your wandering eye, heat crawling along your spine.

Ripping yourself from your trance, you busied yourself with something else. “The salve ingredients that you requested, I made a list.” You stepped towards the footlocker, retrieving the scroll of parchment as you offered it to him. “I hope that it will do some good.”

After having placed his thick cloak over his shoulders, Cregan grunted, the vibration spreading throughout his chest as he accepted the list. “This is noble of you,” He murmured, turning it over within his roughened hand. “The men here owe you their gratitude — as do I.”

Dismissive of his praise, you remained humble, politely curtsying before Lord Stark. “It is my duty, that is all. I will continue on for as long as I am able.” You didn’t like being thanked for healing — it was a passion that you chased after, a job that brought you joy.

“If there is anything that I can do for you as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, name it — it will be done.” Cregan nodded, countenance bristling with a burning affection, one that wasn’t concealed in the slightest. Despite his stalwart demeanor, he made his fondness of you known.

A delicate hum escaped you, but nothing of importance came to mind. You didn’t want to make any demands of him, especially given the circumstances — he had little time to cater to a healer when war loomed overhead.

“If you insist, I would ask for a suitable stationary set,” Simplistic and curious, something uncommonly asked for. Writing was something you had no part in, but illustrations — that was a different story. “Do not toil over it, my Lo — Cregan. Your generosity is kind enough.”

Cregan nodded, taking it into consideration. “I will not toil over it,” He replied, peering over his shoulder toward a pack of healers. There were plenty of wounded men that required your attention more than he. “Consider it done. I will leave you to your work.”

You bowed again out of common courtesy, hands folded together as you offered Cregan another warm smile. “Of course. Should your recovery change course, please do not hesitate to return. I wish you good fortune in the battles to come.”

“Until next we meet.”

Bellflower flourished in moss-laden groves around the forks of the Trident, petals ranging from ivory to shades of cerulean and a light lilac. It grew in clutches, its blooms spherical and pleasing to the eye. Despite the deluge plaguing the Winter Wolves at every step, it seemed to slow Cole’s army down exponentially, too.

As dusk fell in a dark, cloudy gloom across the encampment, Cregan carried a bound bundle of bellflower in his hands, to be given to one person in particular.

It had only been two days since your last meeting in the healer’s tent, his wounds on the mend, no longer weighed down with bandages. The stationary you requested had been brought to your tent sometime the next day, after you had addressed it with Cregan.

It was intended to be a gesture of gratitude, something that he knew you would find favor in, but it was easily passable as a rite of courtship. The constant prodding of a marriage proposal was always at the fringes of Cregan’s mind — it was his duty to marry, and he had prolonged the process as much as he could.

With war tearing the realm apart, there was little time to consider a marriage — but a relationship, perhaps a budding bond, that was something he could make time for. Even in his duties as the Warden of the North, a champion for Queen Rhaenyra, there would be a lull, a calm in the storm.

Your tent wasn’t a far trek from the healer’s tent, smaller and humble compared to his own. It didn’t seem fair, given your importance and what you had contributed to their cause, but he didn’t dwell on it — not now, anyway.

To see the ferocious, stoic Cregan Stark carrying a bundle of flowers that seemed minuscule within his grasp was a most peculiar sight. His fur trappings and leather-and-chainmail bore the motif of the Direwolf, the sigil of House Stark, making him seem larger than he already was. His ancestral longsword, Ice, remained slung across his broad shoulders.

The glitter of candlelight cut through the dismal haze of rainfall around him, its orange glow pooling from your tent, closed-off for privacy. Through the sliver of canvas, Cregan could see you, hunched over your chair, moving a quill across parchment. You wore your hair down this time, visage framed by wisps of your tresses, brow creased in concentration.

Cregan stepped forward, announcing his presence with a noisy clearing of his throat. “My Lady,” He rumbled, standing just outside of your tent, chestnut tresses sticking to his skull from the deluge. “If I might have a moment of your time.”

Your surprise was palpable as you flung open your tent, with Cregan Stark standing before you, soaked to the bone and entirely unphased. Your gaze fell to the bouquet of bellflowers in his hand, features becoming hot almost immediately.

“Cregan,” You stepped aside to usher him in, getting him out of the storm. “I apologize if you attempted to summon me, I’ve been preoccupied.” Preoccupied with the wrong things, perhaps, but you felt horrible that he had walked all this way in a torrential downpour.

“An apology isn’t necessary,” Cregan assured, so tall and mountainous that he seemed to consume much of the space in your tent, scalp scraping the canvas above. “I merely wanted to extend my gratitude, for your diligence and steadfastness in my recovery.” He murmured.

Your lodgings were quite humble, your bed nothing more than a cot lined in fur blankets, pillows stuffed with linens to make it bearable. The rickety wooden chairs were ones you’d borrowed — it served as a place to draw, a series of candles sitting along your footlocker. The ground below was covered in layers of canvas and fur — perhaps more comfortable than the cot itself.

You offered him a polite smile, though the air seemed charged with more than just friendliness. “You’ve already extended your gratitude, my Lord. You needn’t do it again,” You replied, heart thrumming within your chest. “You are soaked to the bone. Why don’t you warm yourself?”

Cregan was plenty warm, his own metaphorical sun, blood running exceptionally hot — especially this evening. “There is no need,” He rumbled, jaw somewhat tense as he extended the bouquet of bellflowers to you, bound together with a thick cord. “Blooming along the Trident. I thought of you.”

Thought of you — did he do that often?

Gods, did you think of him — you thought of him at each waking moment, torturing yourself over him, the Lord of Winterfell. There were nights where you fantasized about him in such sinful ways that it left you gasping for air. It made your belly stir with butterflies, heat simmering across your flesh.

“These are beautiful,” Touched by such a simple gesture, you accepted the bouquet from him, moving to place it inside of a tall flask that once held one of your salves. Its mauve petals added a flair of color. “Thank you, Cregan.” Your voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

Every man in this dreadful encampment paled in comparison to Cregan Stark, who gazed down at you with such intensity that you feared you would melt away. Your breath hitched within your throat when he stepped closer — involuntary or not, you sorely yearned for the closeness.

Droplets of water rolled from his temples, chestnut tresses sticking to his forehead, garb damp from the rain. He smelled of the woodlands — pine and petrichor, intermingled with that of a natural musk. Those gray hues of his raked over you, drinking you in with a thinly-veiled rapture.

“There are other ways to express your gratitude.”

Your mouth moved before your mind could tell you to cease — speaking to your Lord in such an uncouth manner was grounds for trouble. You hadn’t fully realized the salacious implications of your statement until it sank in, and you became nervous. Before you could apologize, Cregan stopped you.

“Why do you think I came all this way, my Lady?” He rumbled, lifting his hand to cup your face, palm nearly engulfing half of your visage. Gods, you were beautiful — nothing short of perfection in his eyes. The bulk of his arm hesitantly reached out to circle around you, drawing you closer into his embrace.

That wasn’t the only reason — Cregan’s fondness of you had manifested into something uncontrollable, and you shared the same sentiment. Your feelings were now just as raging as his own, like a wildfire spreading across a forest, unchecked and unchallenged.

“Aren’t you cold?” You whispered, brought into the warm expanse of his chest, broad and taut with muscle. Even through his armor, you knew that he was indomitable. Though, for all of his physical intimidation and mesomorphic might, he was disarmingly gentle, this mountain of a man.

“No,” The husky timbre of his voice made goosebumps dance along your spine, causing you to shiver. “Not anymore.” He murmured, gaze silently asking to kiss you. He did not move, didn’t intend on acting until you decided to let sentiments flow freely.

It was you that kissed him first, seeking his lips with a desperation that rattled even you. Cregan didn’t hide his mutual desire, brows furrowing together as he reciprocated your kiss, using the leverage of his arm to lift you closer.

His lips were rough, icy from being in the damp outdoors, visage slick from the rainfall. It was a stark contrast to the softness of your mouth, pliant and plush against him, your body curvaceous and perfect within his grasp. He felt your palms press against his chest, drifting towards the nape of his neck.

Rain-soaked tresses glided through your fingers, curling inward to grip and pull, kissing him with such dizzying passion. In the slim space of your lodgings, with rain pounding above, it provided a gentle ambiance that only provided to the charged atmosphere.

Your hands shifted toward the clasps of his thick cloak, hesitating as you pulled away, looking to him for approval. If it weren’t for the many layers he needed to remove, you would’ve shed your dress already.

“Is this what you want?” Cregan needed your consent and assurance before continuing on, thumb drawing circles into your hip as he held you close. His voice had dropped to a near-growl, husky and thick with desire. It only served to stoke the growing fire between the both of you, cracking with a mutual need.

You nodded, nearly rendered breathless. “Yes,” Barely above a whisper, you felt his hands settle over yours, unclasping the metallic direwolves that loosened his cloak. It was all damp and soggy from the rain, and it felt good to be rid of it. “I need you.” You murmured, voice pitched with lust.

Cregan didn’t hesitate, hands unfastening his armor, buckle by buckle, piece by piece. Your hands sometimes joined in on occasion, loosening a strap or helping to take it off altogether. You didn’t move away, allowing each item to join the growing pile until he was left in his smallclothes.

He gently reached for the nape of your neck, massive palm caressing into the base of your skull, tracing along your silky flesh as he brought you in for a kiss. Even without his armor, Cregan was impossibly large, with a bulk and stature that dwarfed your own.

His mouth moved in-tandem with yours, each kiss blistering with passion, an eagerness that never exceeded into something rough. There was a domineering undertone to his actions, but never anything that would hurt you or scare you off.

Northern perfection, an immaculate wall of strength and muscle, yet so gentle — it rattled you to your core in the best possible way, filling your belly with molten heat. You kissed him fervently, until he stopped to kiss along your jaw, roughened lips finding the silky column of your neck.

The coarse, cloth ties that gathered at the small of your back became unraveled by you, loosening the periwinkle-colored garment until it sagged upon your body. You let it drop, your plain dress pooling to the ground in a heap of wrinkled fabric. You nudged it aside, letting it join Cregan’s armor.

Gray hues flickered across your naked flesh, beautiful beyond compare, a woman’s body that possessed the loveliest of curves. Cregan was swift to lower his hands, smoothing them across your sides, and then to your hips, shamelessly grabbing greedy handfuls of your derrière.

“I’ve never seen a beauty like yours before.” Cregan rumbled, mouth pressing soft kisses all along your neck, and then to the hollow of your throat. His calloused palms caressed everywhere they could, savoring the sensation of your velveteen skin.

You shivered at his reverent touch, lips parting as a soft gasp escaped you. Your hands held his biceps, thick and taut beneath your fingertips as a warm slick continued to mount between your legs. He hitched one of your legs around him, keeping you steady.

As he continued to savor your throat, mouth dragging from your neck to collarbone, his available hand stroked along your belly, tracing a path toward the heat between your thighs. Cregan searched for signs of hesitation or protest, but found none, thick fingers sluggishly slipping against your core.

“Cregan,” You gasped, a sharp inhale escaping you as you desperately held onto him, clinging on like a drowning woman as he toyed with your cunt. He deftly pushed past your folds, digits tracing along your slit in rhythmic motions, exploring your body. “Gods, don’t stop.” You pleaded, face pressing near his shoulder.

Teeth scraped along your throat, gently biting at your sensitive flesh as his digits found a steady rhythm. With two fingers stroking along your cunt, his thumb moved to nudge against your clit, circling around the sensitive clutch of nerves. He was silent, save for the rumbling sounds of his grunts.

Gently coaxing you towards your cot, Cregan didn’t stop to think about how feeble it was for two people. Nevertheless, he sat beside you, wood groaning and splintering in protest to the sudden amount of weight it bore. Sitting atop the furs, he collected you into his lap, slotting you against his thigh.

Tangling your hands into the hem of his tunic, you managed to maneuver it off with his assistance, all wisps of air stolen from your lungs at the sight of him. Seeing him in this light, full of desire with candlelight dancing across his skin, he was wonderfully handsome.

One palm cupped your hips, holding you close as his fingers resumed their previous ministrations, thumb seeking your clit. He touched you with such fervent passion, mouth clamoring for yours, lips unable to tear themselves away.

Each kiss left you gasping and heaving, wanting more of him, all that he could give. Your hands sought to drape themselves over his broad shoulders, threading into his damp tresses as you rocked yourself into his hand. The friction it created was delicious, a raging heat that crawled all over your body.

Thunder split the skies outside, rain coming down in a noisy deluge that pounded against the durable canvas of your tent. Cregan shifted backwards, the cot continuing to groan and creak beneath his bulk, threatening to snap into two if your ministrations continued.

You felt along the corded muscle of his shoulders, his skin unusually soft beneath your palms. With the relentless appetite of a wolf, Cregan kissed you again, pulling away just enough to kiss your collarbone instead. Thick digits continued to nudge against your cunt, threatening to push their way inside of you.

At a slow pace, he eased two fingers inside of you, stretching you just enough for it to be quite pleasurable. A whine of delight tore from your mouth, head rolling back enough for him to have unobstructed access. Teeth nipped at your collarbone, providing a sharp sting that flourished across your body.

He was gentle yet vigorous, digits sluggishly pumping themselves in and out of your tight cunt, thumb providing a burst of stimulation against your clit. Your warm, sweet breath fanned over him, mouth agape as a series of excitable pants escaped you.

Planting hot kisses just above your breasts, Cregan’s rough palm caressed from the swell of your hip to your chest, full and perfect, kneading into your breast. The entirety of your body felt so soft — like a plane of velvet, unblemished and left in some state of perfection.

Rocking yourself into his hand, a myriad of needy whimpers left you in droves, ones that occasionally tapered off into wanton moans, others left hushed. Cregan’s chest blossomed with a stoic grunt, the vibrations of it rattling you to your core.

“Cregan,” A fleeting sigh of passion escaped you, breathless and wanting, caught within a tempest of desire and carnality. Your digits touched him wherever you could, from the bulk of his shoulders to his biceps, thick and taut, and his face. “Gods, I need you.” You moaned, coaxing him in for a kiss.

Such a sentiment was mutual — Cregan did not know what depths of want he was capable of, and the carnal need he developed for you was intense. Though, it had also manifested into something else, transcending into affection and ardor.

He did not want to be parted from you after this.

His rough lips molded themselves to yours, kissing you desperately, until he stole every wisp of air from your lungs. He occasionally scraped his teeth across your lower lip, digits still working their way in and out of you, continuing to palm at your breasts.

Between the stimulation of his mouth and digits, you were already worked up, tangled within a web of desire as the cot groaned in protest again — and then snapped.

Only one of the wooden frames suffered damage, and Cregan was quick to shield you from harm, if there was any harm to begin with. He simply sagged further into the canvas, a look of mild amusement rising to his features. “The ground, then.” He rumbled, and you began to giggle, nose crinkling from the awkwardness of it all.

“I could’ve warned you,” You mused, affection dancing within your fond gaze as you kissed his jaw. “It would not survive with your muscles sitting atop it.” Cregan found it difficult not to smile, the gesture faint yet prevalent as he stroked along your spine.

“I will have it replaced.” Cregan grumbled, but you didn’t care in the slightest, the both of you relocating to the sprawling floor of thick, layered furs. It was arguably more comfortable than your cot would’ve been anyway. Drawing you back into his lap, he touched you everywhere he could.

The glow of orange illumination covered the both of you, however faint, aided by slits of clouded moonlight that poured in from the gap in canvas. You were beautiful — everything that he had ever wanted, caged within his arms, staring at him with a heated intensity.

He was mountainous, even when sitting, large and powerful enough to move you wherever he pleased. Your kisses became feverish, as if each entanglement would be your last, heart hammering within your chest with a flurry of excitement.

For a moment, Cregan withdrew, content to gaze upon your smiling visage, gaze sparkling with affection. He lifted his hand, cupping your cheek and jaw, allowing himself a moment to commit every feature of yours to memory. His next kiss was agonizingly slow in the best way possible, causing you to sigh with passion.

He needed to be close to you, chest to chest, savoring every inch of your silken flesh. Cregan had never touched something so soft before, drinking you in again with those tempestuous hues, as alluring as gray clouds before a thunderstorm.

“I want you inside of me,” You pleaded, lips parting slightly as Cregan’s jaw tensed, lust festering within him. Gods, what a wonderful mother you would make — the thought was fleeting, but it lingered like a thick fog, taking up residence within his mind. “Please.”

Cregan did not hesitate, hands joining yours as you hastily unraveled the leather ties of his trousers. He wanted to stay this way, sitting up with you in his lap, allowing him to look upon your face, ravage your skin as he guided you atop his length.

To match his imposing stature and wall of muscle, his cock was just as intimidating, causing your stomach to turn with a twinge of worry. Then again, you had become so worked up that pain seemed impossible. Cregan’s hands steadied themselves atop the swell of your hips, bringing you up enough to let his cock glide against your slick folds.

“As you wish.” He huffed, letting you find your way, the flushed tip of his length beginning to penetrate you. You moaned at the intrusion, able to feel the girth of it stretch you perfectly, just as his fingers had. Cregan grunted, guiding you down until you could go no further.

Strong enough to ease you along his length with his hands alone, Cregan seized the opportunity to kiss you. You were only a few breaths taller like this, slotted within his lap, hands finding their purchase atop his shoulders as you began to ride him.

Gods, he was big — enough for you to realize that soreness was an inevitability. Being flush against him, nearly chest-to-chest, was perfect, something so intimate and sensual that hot shivers rolled down your spine. Cregan guided you up and down upon his cock, ensuring that he went at a sluggish pace, more for your sake than his own.

Tangled sighs and low, heavy breaths wove together, forming a heated cacophony that filled the tent with your lewd activities. The feeling of his calloused hands sinking into your plush flesh was mesmerizing, leaving behind a wave of goosebumps that crawled across your flesh.

Mouths danced together and then clashed again, kiss after kiss of pure ardor, tongues becoming exploratory as you brazenly lapped at his lower lip. It was messy and hot, feverishly so, bringing the both of you to heel as you happily drowned within desire.

The sensation of his cock filling you completely, nearly kissing your womb, almost made you sob from delight. The friction of your bodies was a delicious thing, with your chest brushing against his, knees squeezing near his waist, hands gripping his shoulders. Your nails sank into the muscle there, countenance one of complete and utter pleasure.

Cregan untangled his lips from yours, finding the column of your throat, greedily kissing and nipping wherever he could. Your taste was ambrosial, skin delicate and saccharine beneath his mouth. You moaned, one hand moving to tug at his chestnut tresses, bringing your hips down upon his cock again and again.

The sluggishness of the repetitive motion was agonizingly wonderful — the pace was perfect, not rough enough in the slightest, but passionate, instead. You much preferred this, the intimacy and closeness of it all, the way in which heat radiated between the both of you.

You felt incredible, every fiber of your body burning for him, arousal thick and heavy between your thighs. “Cregan,” A noisy moan escaped you, grinding yourself against him, hips flush together. It was as if you were touched by hot embers, the heat raking across your body time and time again. “Cregan!”

A deep, trembling groan tore past his mouth, one that made your belly fill with liquid fire. You shivered within his grasp, feeling his lips clamor to the underside of your jaw, nose brushing against your chin. His cock throbbed with a sense of urgency, slick with precum.

He continued to guide you, hands descending from your hips to the pliant flesh of your haunches, digits sinking into your derrière. Despite the chill of the rain and song of the storm raging around you, Cregan kept you anchored, warmth radiating from him.

Your hands deftly roamed across his musculature, coming to plant themselves against the expanse of his chest, his heart thudding beneath your palm. “That’s it.” Cregan rumbled, kissing at your jaw before he finally coaxed you in for a passionate kiss. He wanted you to come undone for him.

The intensity of your release blindsided you, crashing into you like a wave breaking upon the rock. Your nails desperately scratched at Cregan’s chest, sinking into his collarbone as you bucked forward. He continued to guide you up and down along his cock until your legs rattled like leaves in the wind.

Cregan joined you, following suit as he reached his peak, forehead bumping into yours as he sought your mouth for a tender kiss. He swallowed your sweet moans, spilling his seed into your cunt. Hot ropes of his spend filled you completely, causing the both of you to sigh, a low rumble reverberating from his throat.

You very nearly collapsed within his lap, heaving with excitable pants, basking in the aftermath of your release. In an intimate gesture, you kissed his jaw, peppering his visage in soft kisses that only made Cregan pull you closer. “Are you alright?” He murmured, running a hand along your side.

“I am,” You smiled, palm reaching to cup his cheek. Cregan’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, pressing a kiss to the silky skin there. Thunder crackled overhead, followed by a flash of lightning, the onslaught of rain pounding overhead. “It seems you’ve no choice but to stay.”

A bemused huff left Cregan, who seemed more than content to share your tent. “Thank the Gods for the deluge, then.” He rumbled, continuing to kiss from your wrist to your hand. A shiver rolled down the length of your spine, aided by his affectionate gestures.

Removing yourself from his lap, you settled down to lay beside him on the floor of your tent, gazing up at the damp canvas. The Warden of the North descended to you, offering you a muscular arm to rest against, moving the furs around the both of you.

It was a comfortable silence, born in the aftermath of your lovemaking as you curled against Cregan, palm settling above his abdomen. “When do you ride next?” You uttered, referring to the raging war that you were both caught within. It was easy to not think much of it when you were with him.

“On the morrow,” Cregan murmured, chestnut brows furrowing together. He loathed the thought of leaving again, now that he had so much more to lose. His calloused digits idly traced around your shoulder, his other arm propped beneath his head. “We will fight hard, like Northerners.”

A subtle terror gripped your heart, foul tendrils sinking into every fiber of your being. You sat up just enough to gaze upon him, fingers drifting toward the slope of his jaw. “Promise me that you’ll be careful.” You uttered, stern as could be.

Cregan could not make such a promise — war was harrowing, and it was unpredictable. Instead, he reached for your face, holding you there as he met your gaze. “I will try,” A low rumble left him, gray eyes boring into you with devotion. “Should I fall prey to another arrow or sword, I will know who to seek.”

It was difficult not to smile, in spite of everything. You sighed, leaning in to kiss him, allowing gentleness and ardor to prevail. A low grunt escaped Cregan, gray hues fluttering shut as he drew you closer into the warmth of his musculature.

“I would certainly hope so.”

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