#the white eyelashes though the eyelashes have me weak

[canisalbus]

cursed no tattoo machete (I'm sorry for doing this to him)

.

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Bad Santa | D.M.

“Santa can’t be bad.” He grabbed you by the throat...“Sweet girls, however, always have a naughty side.”

feat. Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend Draco has thrown the Christmas party of the year, and wears a Santa hat to make you smile. But jealousy quickly throws a wrench into your festive evening.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut with a sprinkle of plot, he hates everyone but her, protective, arrogant, and possessive!draco, slightly toxic behavior, pda, dirty talk, sort of insecure reader?? (she just wants to be perfect for him even though he thinks she’s perfect 1000% of the time), Blaise is kind of a dick in this one sorry

You were running late to Draco’s Christmas party, but your red glitter eyeliner was not cooperating, and you were ready to start screaming.

You just wanted to look perfect for him, even though he loved nothing more than seeing you fresh out of the shower, bundled up in his pajamas. But this was one of the last parties he would throw at Hogwarts, and he’d worked so hard on every meticulous detail.

You refused to be the weak link.

There was a soft knock on your door, and your heart fell out of rhythm, thinking it was Draco.

“Come in!” You called, and Theo opened the door, a flute of wine in hand.

He let out a low whistle, freezing in place, forgetting that he definitely was not supposed to be checking you out.

You rolled your eyes, returning to your eyeliner in the mirror. “Eyes up, Nott. Would be a shame to see that pretty face without teeth.”

He shook himself and strode in, setting the drink on the table beside you. It was fizzy and a pale gold, with sugared cranberries floating at the top. “Yeah, yeah. Malfoy sent me to check on you, make sure you didn’t fall out the window or something. And he said to bring you that.” Theo gestured to the drink.

You flushed, taking a sip of the effervescent giggle water. “I’m perfectly fine. Tell Draco I’ll be down soon.” You set the glass down and picked up your liner brush, finishing the last line. You leaned back to make sure they were even and fucking finally, they were.

“You got it, Mrs. Clause,” he bowed and made a swift exit.

Mrs. Clause? You shrugged it off. Theo was always spouting random shit, anyways. You fluffed your hair and stood, straightening your black slip dress. An inch shorter, and it would be considered lingerie, but you wanted Draco to be unable to keep his hands off of you, and this dress would surely do the trick.

You slipped your hands into a pair of black, satin elbow gloves, and stepped into your black platform heels. For the final touch, a swipe of oxblood red lipstick, and you were ready.

The music was loud enough to feel through the floor as you made your way down the stairs, drink in hand, the party in full swing. The room was completely covered in green and white christmas lights, with dozens of trees decorated in Slytherin colors and tinsel snakes scattered throughout the room. Fake snow fell gently from the ceiling, covering everything in a sheen of silver glitter, though it wasn’t cold when it kissed your skin, collecting in your hair and eyelashes.

It was a wonderland, and your heart swelled with pride that your man made it happen.

You turned your attention back to the stairs so you didn't fall face first, and noticed Theo was waiting for you at the bottom.

”Really?” You teased, taking his arm when he offered it to you.

“Are you really surprised?” He muttered in your ear as he lead you through the crowd. “It’s a fucking circus in here.”

Despite your teasing, you were glad for his company once you got into the thick of the party. It seemed your housemates were pulling out all the stops for this one, already teetering into rager territory and it wasn’t even 10 o’clock.

“He’s going to crash out when he sees you,” Theo chuckled, puffing up his chest when some Ravenclaw boy drifted a little too close to you.

“That’s the idea.”

“Crash out indeed.” Draco suddenly appeared in front of you, stepping from the crowd like he’d apparated there, and you nearly tripped over your heels.

He was dressed in all black, like you’d discussed, his suit decorated with black lace and silver trim. But what really threw you was the velvet black Santa hat on his head, the fur trim and bauble like a silver wolfs coat. He looked…sinful.

“Draco!” You exclaimed, flush with excitement. “How did you—”

“Followed the broken necks,” he replied, his gaze roaming from the top of your head to the very tip of your toes with a predator’s gleam. “That’s all, Nott,” he said, an edge of command to his voice, and Theo dissolved into the crowd.

He extended a hand to you and you placed your fingers in his palm, butterflies rioting in your stomach despite having been with Draco for close to a year now. He pulled your bodies together, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other bringing your gloved knuckles to his lips for a chaste kiss.

“I’m speechless, baby,” he murmured, releasing your hand to catch your chin. He tilted your head up towards him, turning you just slightly to watch the shimmer around your eyes dance.

You reached up to flick the bauble on the end of his hat, grinning. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“Let me see you,” he purred. He took your hand again and stepped back, spinning you in a slow circle as the snow fell around you. It was like there was no one else in the room, just you and Draco in a winter wonderland. “That’s simply unfair, darling,” he said, pulling you back into him. “Am I meant to fight off every student in attendance?”

“You’re so dramatic,” you snickered, pecking his cheek, and he chuckled.

“C’mon, let’s get you by the fire. It is winter, you know—”

You swatted his arm, letting him lead you through the crowd. Though, Draco had a considerably easier time with it that Theo did, the party-goers shifting apart like the Red Sea. In a few moments, you found your and Draco’s friends sitting in a circle of couches and chairs by the roaring fireplace. The largest arm chair, closest to the fire, was unoccupied, and you noticed two drinks sitting untouched on the table beside it.

A fire whiskey that was certainly Draco’s, and another frosty flute of giggle water with cranberries, presumably for you.

Your friends all greeted you with warm smiles and a wolf whistle from Pansy, and you broke free from Draco to catch up with her and a few of your girls.

“You have no idea, he was so bitchy when you didn’t show up at 9:30 on the dot,” Pansy whispered, giggling.

“Not at you, of course. He’s just never happy when you aren’t around,” another one of your friends muttered.

You glanced over at Draco, who was sitting in his seat, an ankle propped up on the opposite knee, fire whiskey in hand. He was watching you over the rim despite poor Blaise trying to talk to him, and you could feel his gaze like a caress over your exposed back.

“It was my damn eyeliner,” you chuckled, batting your eyes to show them, and they squealed. “Couldn’t get it straight.”

“That’s amazing! Where did you get it—”

“It makes you look like a crazy vixen or something. Slayed.”

“It’s flawless, well worth being thirty minutes late—”

“Thank you, thank you,” you flushed.

“Let’s go dance!” Pansy said, grabbing you by the wrist, and you turned to check with Draco. Not that you needed permission, just to let him know what you were doing.

“Go dance, baby. I’ll be right here, watching very closely,” he called with a smirk, waving you off.

You swallowed the rest of your drink as the girls dragged you out to the edge of the dance floor, where it wasn’t quite as crowded, and the boys could keep an eye on all of you in case anyone got any ideas. You let yourself get lost in the music and the movement, Draco’s watchful the eye the only thing rooting you to the present. Even from across the room, he made you feel secure as gold in Gringott’s, which was why you felt comfortable wearing a dress so revealing, or going to a wild party in the first place.

But, after an hour or so, you started to feel that longing tug in your lower belly, missing his voice, his touch. You grabbed Pansy, shouting in her ear over the roar of the music. “Excuse me, I have to sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what I want for Christmas!”

“Ask for a million dollars!” She shouted back, breathless.

You turned and sauntered across the room to Draco, eyes locked on him, taking care to sway your hips in time to the music.

He set his foot down, patting his thigh with his free hand, a smirk lifting his handsome face. You stepped between his thighs and eased onto his lap, his arm immediately wrapping around your back to grip your thigh, the fat dimpling beneath the pressure as he hauled you closer.

“Hi, Santa baby,” you flirted, lifting your legs to rest them across his other thigh, your heels dangling towards the ground.

“I’d ask if you’ve been a good girl, but I think I know the answer to that,” he hummed, pressing his lips beneath your jaw and kissing downwards at a leisurely place.

“Does that mean ‘no’?” You giggled, letting the heat of his affection flow through you, warming your blood until a buzzy desire bloomed between your legs.

“Good girls don’t dance like that in an attempted murder against their boyfriend,” he chuckled, nipping at your ear before sitting up.

“Attempted murder” You gasped, pressing a hand to your chest. “I would never.”

He passed you your drink, watching your lips as you took a long sip of the fizzy beverage. “I like that lipstick,” he said, softening his voice. “Is it new?”

You nodded. “Santa bought it for me at Hogsmeade.”

Draco laughed, the vibration in his chest making your thighs clench as your arousal continued to build. “Did Santa buy you that dress too?”

“Of course.” You leaned in closer, your lips brushing his ear. “And what’s underneath it.”

His grip tightened on your thigh, and you felt something hard nudge against your hip. “I suppose Santa should let you take his wallet into town more often,” he muttered, a little raspier than before.

“At his own peril,” you warned, smiling.

“Whatever it takes to keep you right here, Mrs. Clause.” His hand slid to the nape of your neck, the tips of his fingers chilled from holding the whiskey glass, and he pulled you in. Your lips connected in heated kiss, tasting cinnamon and drunken cherries. His tongue brushed along the seam of your lips in a request for entry. You parted just slightly for him, a tease, before biting lightly at the tip of his tongue. He grinned, retaliating by biting your lower lip, hard enough to send a delicious flare of pain straight to your most sensitive parts, and you nearly cried out. He soothed the bite with his tongue, and kissed you softly before pulling away.

You knew that lipstick was worth the price tag; barely a ghost of smear colored his lips. He just looked thoroughly kissed, exactly how you wanted him to.

“Why does this party just feel like extremely elaborate foreplay?” Blaise droned, rolling his eyes at the two of you.

“Everything is foreplay to them,” Pansy laughed, flopping down onto the couch between Crabbe and Goyle.

“Jealous, Zabini?” Draco asked, leaning back a little further into the chair, his legs spreading wider so gravity shifted more of your weight into his body. He was so warm and solid, the feel and presence of him making your head go a little fuzzy. Or perhaps it was the giggle water taking effect.

“Sorry, Blaise,” you said, nudging his shoulder with the toe of your heel. “We’ll try to keep the pda under control.”

“I didn’t agree to that,” Draco argued, grabbing your ankle and tucking your foot back against his calf. “Let ‘em suffer.”

“Draco, don’t be cruel,” you scolded, though everyone knew you didn’t mean it.

“Cruel? Cruel would be denying everyone the sight of you. He should be thanking me,” Draco countered, his hand caressing up and down your shin, the other kneading the fat of your haunch.

“Ah, yes. Thank you for allowing me to watch you all but fuck your girl in front of the entire student body,” Blaise snapped, and you felt Draco’s energy immediately shift into dangerous territory.

“Just say you’re jealous and shut the fuck up, Blaise. You’re being a dick,” Goyle shot back, with a grunt in agreement from Crabbe.

“Baby,” you murmured, quiet enough that only Draco could hear you. “Ignore him. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you and ruin our fun.” You rubbed your gloved hand over his chest, feeling his heart pounding through his expensive shirt. He was glaring at Blaise, anger slithering through the blue of his eyes, promising pain.

“No, I want him to say what he means,” Draco said, his tone deceptively light, and you inwardly groaned. “Go on, mate. Tell us the truth.”

Theo made a ‘don’t’ sign with his hand, but Blaise was glaring right back at Draco, apparently foolish enough, or drunk enough, to take the bait.

“I wouldn’t parade my girl around like that, is all. Wouldn’t want another bloke seeing what’s mine.”

Draco was up in a flash, leaving you in a heap on his chair. Blaise jumped up too, but Theo got between them before they collided.

“She can do whatever she damn well pleases. And I’m not going to let some microdicked cunt make her think twice about it,” Draco growled, and your heart gave an ill-timed flutter, your pussy tingling anew. You knew Draco shouldn’t be so protective, and it’s gotten him in trouble on more than one occasion, but you couldn’t help it. You loved seeing Draco’s dark side come out on your behalf.

“Fuck you, Malfoy,” Blaise replied, shoving into Theo to try and reach Draco. Theo shoved Blaise backwards and Draco managed to get around him, grabbing Blaise up by the collar. You got to your feet, fear pumping through you, but Theo blocked you before you could intervene.

“Now, I’m going to give you the opportunity to apologize to her on your own, or I will force it out of you,” Draco said, his voice menacingly low. When Blaise tried in vain to free himself, Draco shook him hard, nearly hitting his head against the stone fireplace. “Now, Zabini.”

Blaise’s eyes met yours, wide with fear, but deeply angry. “I’m sorry, y/n,” he hissed through his teeth, venomous as a hex.

Draco pushed him hard, throwing him onto the ground. He loomed over the prone boy, raising his wand.

“Draco!” You shouted, managing to get around Theo is his shock. You got between Draco and Blaise, throwing your arms around your boyfriends neck and pressing yourself to his front. “He’s not worth getting expelled,” you hissed in his ear, his eyes feral and jaw set. “Please, please don’t do this.”

You felt him soften, just a fraction.

“Merlin, I’m sorry, okay!” Blaise shouted, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, y/n.” Sincerity softened the Blaise’s voice, and Draco finally lowered his wand.

You applied some pressure to Draco’s front, trying to get him to move, and he took a step back, an unspoken acquiescence. You grabbed his hand and dragged him through the sea of onlookers and up to his dorm, his hand a vice on yours.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Draco lunged, crushing you against the wall in a fervid, desperate kiss. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the race of his heart, and knew that he needed an outlet for his temper.

“No one talks to you like that,” he growled against your neck, biting at your skin while he wrapped your legs around his waist. “I don’t care if it’s my friends, my father, or bloody Minister of fucking Magic.”

“Yes, Draco!” You cried out when he ground his hardening cock against your clothed cunt, your eyes rolling back at the friction.

“You’re mine,” he said, his lips releasing from your skin with a pop, having left a mark behind to punctuate his point. “Mine to spoil, mine to dote on, mine to touch, kiss, fuck.”

“Fuck, yes. All yours.” You pulled off your gloves and dug your fingers into his platinum hair, knocking off the Santa hat in pursuit of another scalding kiss. He obliged you, tangling his tongue with yours and loosing a low groan. He peeled you off of the wall, not breaking the kiss, and tossed you onto a bed.

Not his bed, you realized almost immediately.

“Draco—”

“Just want to leave a little gift for Blaise,” he said, kissing down your chest while his hands pushed up your skirt, revealing the g-string you bought just for him. It was black and trimmed in diamonds, nothing but mesh covering your puffy, drooling lips. “Look at you,” he cooed, softening further. He lowered himself to rest fully between your legs and grazed his thumb over the mesh, feeling the wetness soaking through. “You bought these for me?”

You nodded, chewing your lower lip and resisting the urge to press yourself into his hand.

“How very considerate of you, darling,” he praised, hooking the fabric with his middle finger and tugging it aside. He pressed a kiss to your clit before swiping a languid lick through your slit, finally relaxing back into his usual, calm demeanor. He always settled like this when it was just the two of you, your body laid out all for him, like it appeased some ravenous beast inside of his chest.

Between your legs was where he made his confession, where he bared his soul and sought forgiveness for his trespasses.

“M’sorry for being such a brute,” he murmured against you, sucking lightly at your clit.

“I love when you stand up for me,” you said, your words tangled with a soft moan as he continued to lap at you, so soft it makes your chest ache.

You felt him smile against you before sitting back on his heels, your slick glossing his lips and chin. “That why you’re dripping for me? Did it turn you on when I got angry?” It was a rhetorical question. He knew it turned you on when he was set off, as it had resulted in many a shagging in broom closets and empty classrooms. “Or was it the Santa hat?” he teased, getting up and grabbing it off of the floor.

“Draco, come back,” you whined, reaching for him while he put the hat back on his head. He was toying with you now, seeing how worked up he could get you before either of you snapped.

If there was one thing you knew for certain about Draco Malfoy, it’s that he loved the chase. Perhaps it was the Slytherin in him, the desire to scheme and plot, to coax out their prey before they strike.

He grabbed your ankle and tugged you the edge of the bed, your hips flush against his. “I’m here,” he soothed, running his hands over your thighs and spreading your legs a little further for him. “Baby, that makeup…” his eyes danced over your face. “Lose my train of thought when you look at me like that.”

You sat up, inching your hips closer to his, feeling his hardness pressing against you. “You like it?” You asked, batting your lashes while you push his jacket off of his shoulders, the blazer landing with an umph onto the floor.

“I do.” He reached up to ghost his fingers over your face, brushing your fake lashes with the gentlest touch, tracing over your nose, your eyebrows, your lined cupid’s bow. “You’re beyond beautiful, darling.”

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss underneath his jaw, sucking lightly at his pulse, and he heaved a contented sigh, his hand sliding into your hair. With deft fingers, you started to undo the buttons of his shirt, kissing down his pale chest as you went.

“How do you always manage to disarm me?” He asked, scratching gently at your scalp, watching you through heavy lidded eyes. “I was so angry, then you just—you just chased it away with your sweet little self.”

You preened under his gentle touch, loving that only you got to see this side of him, that there was a Draco you didn’t have to share with the rest of the world.

“I like myself better when I’m with you,” he murmured, tightening his grip on your hair to force you head up. “Like I’m not all bad.”

Your heart cracked, affection making it swell a few sizes too large. “Draco, you are not bad,” you shushed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pecking his lips. “You’re wonderful, and I love you. All of you.”

He smiled, catching your lips in a deeper kiss. “I love you too, sweet girl.”

“Even if you’ve been a bad Santa,” you tease, flicking the bauble at the end of his hat.

“Santa can’t be bad.” He grabbed you by the throat and shoved you back down, looming over you with a cheeky smirk on his face. “Sweet girls, however, always have a naughty side.”

“Not me!” you giggled.

“Back talk, hm?” He slid his hand down to the top of your dress and pulled it down, freeing your bare breasts. He laved a tongue over one of your nipples, making your eyes roll back when he sucked it between his teeth, biting gently.

Your hips bucked up involuntarily, a cry falling from your lips when your clit ground against his length.

“Where'd my sweet girl go? All I see now is a needy slut.” He lightly slapped your tit he'd just been nursing, making you jump and keen, a deep pulse of arousal making your pussy drip. “You know what sluts get for Christmas?” He asked, undoing the buttons of his trousers. You felt his cock spring out, scalding hot and solid.

You shook your head, already half dumb from his hot and cold teasing, zeroed in on the feeling of his cock nudging against your drooling entrance.

“Fucked,” he growled, and slammed himself to the hilt, splitting you down the middle.

You cried out, arching off the mattress when he withdrew and slammed back in, rebuilding you only to shatter you once more. Your pussy made the most obscene sounds, sloppy as it gripped him. He loosed an unintelligible stream of curses, fucking into you with all the fervor he had when you initially fled the party.

“Fuck, Draco,” you cried, muffling yourself on Blaise's now tousled quilt.

“That's a good girl, cry all you like. I want him to know exactly how hard I fucked you on his bed.” He leaned over you, grabbing one of Blaise's pillows and tucking it under your lower back, elevating your hips so he could hit a new, more intense angle.

“Mmph, so deep,” you whined, stars dancing being your eyes, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with every graze of his cockhead against that ruthless, spongy place inside of you.

“Gonna make a mess of this perfect pussy. Shit, love—so fucking tight f’me,” he groaned, throwing one of your ankles over his shoulder and biting at your calf. “So fucking pretty taking my cock,” he mumbled between kisses along your shin, holding your ankle in a bruising grip to keep you exactly where he wanted you.

You were getting so close, swallowing scream after scream as he pounded you.

“Gonna come for me, sweet girl? Can feel you squeezing harder, soaking my cock.” He released his grip on your hip to smear his fingers over your clit, rubbing back and forth at brutal pace, letting you hear just how wet you were. “C’mon, baby. You're so close—oh fuck.”

You came with a scream, biting down on the quilt in a feeble attempt to quiet yourself as your orgasm tore through you, forcing a gush of moisture from your pussy.

“Merlin, baby. That's perfect, you're doing so good for me, sweetheart,” he praised, sounding a little starstruck, and more than a little excited.

It was like he replaced your blood with fire whiskey, burning, bright, dizzying. You were soaring, awash with bliss as he fucked you through it, moving slower to savor the way you fluttered around him.

You blinked your eyes open, bleary and a cockdrunk.

“There she is,” he cooed, setting your leg down and leaning forward to kiss your cheeks, your nose, your lips. “You alright?”

You nodded, stretching your arms overhead like a tired kitten.

“Not done yet, lovey. C’mere.” He slipped out of you, ignoring your whine of protest and tugged you to the edge of the bed. He tossed Blaise's pillow, now soaked with your release, onto the floor. “On your knees, darling.”

You happily obliged, lowering yourself to the ground and grabbing at his cock before he had a chance to sit. He chuckled, letting you lap at his messy shaft, loving the taste of you smeared on his skin. Marking him as yours.

“All yours, baby. Don't fret.” He stroked your hair, staring down at you with a lovesick smile. “Look at me.”

You flicked your eyes upwards as you start working your mouth down his cock, taking him about halfway before retreating. He was flushed and breathing hard, his black button down open to reveal his muscular chest, littered with love bites you left behind. The Santa hat was still on his head, slightly askew from the thorough fucking, and his blue eyes were blazing.

He groaned, hand tightening in your hair. “Baby, your eyes. Got me in a chokehold,” he rasped, hips rocking forward in time with your head.

Evidently, the eyeliner was very much worth it.

You wrapped your hand around the base and increased your pace, close to gagging yourself on his length, your eyes fixed firmly on his reactions.

His head lolled back on his shoulders, throat bobbing as he moaned, mouth falling open. “Fuck, m’already close.”

A trill of pride washed through you and you pushed even further, his head nudging the back of your throat and making your eyes water.

“Shit, thats it, angel. Just like that. Open that pretty throat for me.” He fisted your hair and stalled your movements, his cock buried in your mouth and cutting off your air. “Fuck!” He cried, pulling your head back and grasping his cock, pumping himself against your tongue as the first rope of release splattered against it.

You stuck your tongue out, letting him fill your mouth with his spend while he moaned and cursed, his whole body bowing around you with the force of it.

He milked himself dry, heaving a loud exhale followed by a sly smile, and gripped your chin, tilting your head up for him. “My sweet girl,” he cooed, swiping up a dribble of cum from your chin and feeding it between your lips. “Swallow.”

You did, swallowing down every bit of cum before opening your mouth for him, sticking out your now clean tongue.

He grinned, scooping you up into his arms and raining kisses over your face and neck. “So fucking perfect. How did I get so lucky?”

You giggled, dizzy with delight, and wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling into his shoulder.

"You wanna go back to the party?" He asked, and you scoffed, earning a relieved smile. He tucked an arm under your knees and hefted you into the air, carrying you across the room to his bed. He laid you down and rummaged through his trunk, finding a pair of pajamas you liked, before walking back over to you.

You loosed a big yawn, eyelids heavy, and he chuckled.

“Fucked out, hm?” He teased, pulling the dress over your head and tossing it aside before replacing it with one of his Quidditch t-shirts.

You answered with another yawn, flopping back onto his fancy, silk pillows.

He shimmied a pair of boxers up your legs before tucking you into his quilt, the smell of his expensive body wash wrapping around you as you settled.

He clicked his tongue. “Face towards me, sweetheart.” You turned your head, eyes closed, and felt a cool cloth wipe across your cheek, your eyes, your forehead. Diligently, he removed your makeup inch by inch, careful to not pull or tug. He even let your lashes soak off, counting to thirty under his breath before removing them, instead of just tugging them off. When he was finished, he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Your makeup was lovely, but you are so beautiful as you are “

You hummed in appreciation, eyes still closed, and puckered your lips for a kiss, which he happily provided.

Then he stood and you could hear him moving around the room, picking up your trail of items and righting the room.

“You aren't really gonna leave that on Blaise's bed?” You mumbled, peaking at him over the covers.

“Oh, I certainly am,” he replied, fluffing it up and setting it back where he found it. “Maybe he'll keep his mouth shut next time.”

You rolled your eyes, snuggling back down into the pillows. You wanted no part of their twisted drama.

A few moments later, you felt the covers lift and the bed dip, and Draco’s warm body wrapped around you, shirtless and in sweatpants. He nuzzled into your neck, taking a deep breath.

“You never told me what you wanted for a Christmas?” He murmured, pressing a kiss to the curve of your shoulder.

Your brain was sluggish, trying to piece together what you wanted. But you could only think of one thing.

“Dark chocolate frog,” you mumbled, and he burst out laughing.

“Then you'll have an army of dark chocolate frogs, my love.”

Thank you sm for reading!

[chatsukimi]

ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋꜱ

featuring: touchstarved!gojo, slight enemies to lovers. synopsis: gojo satoru can't understand why he keeps wanting to spar with you... until one time, you two get a little too close. masterlist

sparring with satoru is a pain above all else. yaga has been assigning you to hand to hand combat with satoru for weeks now- a suspiciously long amount of time without switching partners.

you kick, dodge a punch, and stare up at his shameless smile. each time you come close to landing a hit, he turns on infinity, then poof! your opportunity rushes out the window.

"no techniques allowed." you grit your teeth.

"oops." he holds his hands up in a faux surrender. "sorry, forgot."

he certainly did not forget.

this time, he charges at your torso, his annoyingly long arm closing distance on your shoulder at breakneck speed. you feel the limb dislocate. you wince. using his upper hand, gojo grabs your arms and pins you to the gymnasium floor. the air is knocked out of your lungs.

he's panting, his blue eyes clambering over you, under him. like always, he's too close to you- so close you see your own figure in the reflection of his watery irises. you could lift your hand up an inch to brush the sweat from his forehead. always. way too close.

his fingers trail across your elbow up towards your collarbone- whoosh.

infinity on again. he lets out a long exhale, scrunching his eyes shut as though pained.

that's when gojo thinks he's safe.

only, he's not really.

instead of giving up, you close your hand around the infinity and pull the whole thing, gojo and his infinity, towards you. your legs drag around his hips.

his eyes widen.

your hand pushes his chest then in the brisk manoeuvre, you're on top of him.

you think you see his soul poke its head out his mouth, tipped ajar in shock.

you don't know why you do what you do next. in some depraved performance, your fingers close in on his windpipe. you don't squeeze; the imagery is enough to satisfy. snowy white eyelashes fluttering to meet your gaze, the groan echoing out from his throat, the tight strain in his chest as he breathes shallowly, letting you way too close.

"they're watching," he murmurs.

shoko and geto. fear washes over you, and you're about to let go-

his own hand closes around your wrist.

he's staring at you darkly, goading you to move.

"they're watching," he says again, his hands suddenly at your waist pulling you closer. his tongue flicks over his bottom lip.

you're almost laying on his chest, face to face with your own deadly consumption.

"how long have you been beating me up just to get this close?" you tease.

"huh?"

truly innocently desperately confused, satoru has the gall to tighten his grip, hoisting himself up until he's sitting to lean over you again- if only slightly.

"we're just sparring, aren't we?" and he's telling himself this as his nose bumps against yours. and he's lying to himself that the way he's exploring your body is an act of aggression, not an act of compulsion. "you've been playing dirty tricks on me, but i can do it better."

dirty tricks? you think you see the thought passing through his concentrated face.

unfair, unfair, unfair-

how dare you provoke him let down his infinity? who do you think you are? how could you break him down through just one touch, leave him barrelling towards you for more?

unfair, unfair, unfair-

his hand rests by your jaw, stroking up your cheek, taking his precious time.

because sparring with you is the only time satoru gets to touch you.

he forces all his common sense out of his brain as he whispers, frustration coursing through his tone, "you're weak. your form is full of openings." and he's almost kissing you-

"time out, time out." shoko's voice cuts through the haze.

you feel you two being dragged apart by shoko and geto. the latter frowns at the white haired menace who's temporarily lost his obnoxious pride, silent.

the moment is awkward for everyone except for him.

gojo cocks his head to the side, looking at geto. "we were just fighting?"

geto sighs. just fighting?

you shiver as gojo's expressionless stare sticks onto you. curious.

the fight is over already...

but then why does he want to kiss you still?

[zorobff]

i bet on losing dogs. (opla!zoro x reader)

synopsis: zoro is defeated by mihawk and therefore unable to claim the title of the world’s greatest swordsman. you just want him to know that he’s still the greatest to you.

warnings: mentions of blood, some direct dialogue from opla, not much romance i literally just wanted someone to tell zoro he’s enough bc he deserves it <3

a/n: idk if this is any good i just wanted an excuse to write and one piece has been my fixation for like 2 months now so :P

you can’t move.

it seems as if every bone in your body is frozen in place despite your brain telling you to do something — anything. you stand there, eyes helplessly locked onto zoro’s weak and defeated body. your heart is racing and you’re unable to stop your mind from doing the same. after all, there was a certain unease that came with seeing someone like roronoa zoro be conquered. his dream of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman had been crushed within minutes. knowing zoro, that thought would be tougher to overcome than any physical wound.

you want to run to him. to be with him.

luffy beats you to it.

“zoro!” he shouts with such pain that you wonder if he’s somehow hurting more than the swordsman is.

the sight of your captain sprinting across the deck of the baratie manages to push you to action. the two of you rush to zoro’s side, trying and failing to look anywhere but the bright red gash across his torso. it’s even worse up close. with every heave of his chest, more blood oozes out.

the cut is impossibly deep and yet, you can’t help but feel grateful. you’d seen the size of mihawk’s sword. the thing could’ve split zoro in half with the flick of a wrist. just the thought of that sends a new wave of shivers down your spine. you thank every higher power that mihawk was feeling generous enough to spare your friend’s life.

“zoro?” you attempt to say his name calmly. “zoro, please talk to us.”

his eyelashes flutter as he attempts to keep conscious. you see the subtle wincing in his face, the clenching of his jaw. for a second you wish he would have passed out, at least then he wouldn’t have to endure all this agony. even though this was surely the worst hit anyone had landed on him during his extensive career, you could tell that wasn’t the hardest part for him.

his eyes stay glued to the skies, refusing to even acknowledge you or luffy. his irises gloss over and tears well up on his waterline. there could only be one thing on his mind, the one thing you knew he was truly passionate about; his promise. was he afraid he had let down that nameless person he always spoke of? that he had failed as a swordsman?

for some reason, you want to cry with him.

“you did good,” you whisper without a second thought. “just stay awake, okay?”

luffy nods in agreement, hand coming to grip zoro’s shoulder so tightly his knuckles turn white.

“monkey d. luffy,” calls mihawk, shifting everyone’s attention back to him. “what is your goal?”

your captain nearly growls. “i’m going to be the king of the pirates.”

luffy’s response could seem rehearsed. mechanical, even. but the truth is he just meant it that much. his conviction was unmatched in every possible way.

“king of the pirates, eh?” repeats mihawk. there’s a hint of amusement in his tone. however, he wasn’t mocking luffy, as many people tend to do when they hear of his dream. “that is a much more treacherous path than defeating even me.”

luffy whips around to fix mihawk with a stern glare. “i don’t care. it’s what i’m going to do.”

“maybe you will at that,” muses the bearded swordsman. “this world could use a few more wild cards.”

their odd exchange ends there, leaving an unnerving silence. the sound of your choked back sobs getting caught in your throat and waves splashing against the deck is all there is for a moment.

“why the tears, girl?” mihawk inquires.

you can’t bear to look at him, much less respond. not after what he’d done to zoro. your hands that once rested reassuringly on your crewmate’s stomach now ball into fists. how could he behave so nonchalantly when he had injured zoro within an inch of his life?

“seems like you aren’t as plucky as the rest of your crew, hm?” mihawk comments when his question is met with silence.

hot tears of frustration roll down your cheeks. “get lost. you’ve done enough damage, haven’t you?”

“that would be incorrect. i was tasked with retrieving your captain for the marines. as you can see, i have yet to do that.”

“i couldn’t care less about what you came here for,” you tell him between gritted teeth. “how do you have the nerve to stand there and talk down to us after what you did to him?”

mihawk’s head tilts to the side as he observes you. pensively, he murmurs, “you care for him.”

“of course we care for him, he’s our crewmate!” luffy shouts in response, clearly missing the true meaning behind the words.

on the other hand, you opt to stay silent, slightly embarrassed about how quickly mihawk was able to catch on to you. were your feelings really that easy to see through? almost as if confirming your concern, mihawk coughs out a dry chuckle before his face falls stoic once more.

“look after him.” his gaze lingers on you when he says that. “it is too soon for him to die. roronoa zoro, grow strong and come find me. i’ll be waiting.”

with that, mihawk makes his exit. once the coast is clear, usopp and nami finally come scurrying over. the marksman kneels down on zoro’s left while the latter stays standing, almost too afraid to get close.

“he’s losing so much blood,” usopp notes, voice unsteady.

luffy is quick to shut down the true implication behind those words. “he’s going to be okay.”

a strangled groan escapes the green-haired swordsman in question. the four of you freeze. the moment feels eerily similar to when you watched him collapse after mihawk had struck him down. for the second time in a day, zoro has all of you holding your breath in anticipation.

“if i—” he swallows hard, eyes still shiny and looking upward. “—fail to become the world’s greatest swordsman... you’ll be disappointed. right?”

luffy’s gaze softens. “you could never fail me.”

however, your captain’s sincere words don’t seem to be enough. zoro finally rips his gaze away from the clouds, head lolling to the side to face you instead. those wide eyes of his always held so much intensity, so much emotion. now is no different as he meets your stare, seemingly in search of your reassurance as well.

it wasn’t that you were unsure of what to say but how to say it. you didn’t trust yourself to speak your mind and say what you truly thought of zoro. the last thing you needed was your feelings for him slipping out at a time like this. you decide to play it safe and just nod. “you know i feel the same way. we all do.”

“i need… to hear you say it,” he replies, voice cracking.

your heartbeat gets caught in your throat at the utter desperation in zoro’s voice. it sounded as if he truly needed your approval if he was going to survive this. it was unlike him to get hung up on something so trivial such as someone’s opinion of him. he never seemed to care what other people thought, why was he starting now? and with you, of all people?

before you can question it any further, zoro hisses. the pain causes his entire body to tense and his wound spurts fresh crimson. without thinking, your hand comes up to rest reassuringly on his cheek. automatically, your thumb begins rubbing soothing circles on the skin. he’s hot to the touch and slick with sweat but you don’t mind it. the way his body relaxes itself is all you care about. well, that and the way he leans into your touch. for someone who rejected physical contact at every given chance, this was new but very, very welcome.

the emotion of it all causes you to lose any concern you’d previously had over voicing your thoughts about zoro. you can’t help but give him the response he was begging for, regardless of how smitten you sounded.

“zoro, you’re the best i’ve seen. and i don’t just mean with your swords. no defeat could ever take away what you have, you know that right? almost everyday i ask myself what the hell i’m doing on the same crew as someone like you. you don’t understand how much it pains me knowing that you feel the need to prove your worth when clearly you’re the greatest there is. in every way. so, how could i ever be disappointed in you?”

there’s a few moments of silence. this time, you truly don’t hear a thing. not the waves, not the birds in the sky, not even the thumping of your own heartbeat. your brain has blocked out everything that isn’t zoro. the same zoro who’s breaking down into tears right in front of you. it’s an unbelievable sight, watching them stream down his face as he takes in everything you’d just said.

using what little strength he has left, zoro lifts a shaky hand to rest atop yours. you pause your ministrations on his cheek and let him intertwine his fingers with yours. he squeezes your hand so tightly that you’re positive it takes everything in him to do so.

“never… again,” he chokes out, tearful eyes meeting yours. “from now, until i beat him.” he uses his left hand to unsheathe his sword. he lifts it to the sky with purpose, as if to solidify this vow. “will i ever give you a reason to be disappointed in me. i, roronoa zoro, will never lose again!”

his grip becomes unsteady, causing his sword to fall from his grasp and clatter on the ground. his arm falls back to his side and he’s able to give you one last look before he’s out cold.

“zoro?” luffy calls, leaning forward. “zoro?!”

you suck in a shaky breath at the feeling of his hand going limp. you’re grateful he’s still breathing at the very least but it’s clear he needs medical attention fast.

“let’s get him inside,” nami commands. it’s the first thing she’s worked up the courage to say.

luffy and usopp waste no time shifting zoro’s arms over their shoulders while you and nami take his legs. despite your joint efforts, the four of you struggle to drag zoro off the baratie; you blame his rigorous training that had made him all muscle. usually you wouldn’t complain but it sure made carrying him aboard the going merry a difficult task. at last, he’s dumped onto the table in your makeshift kitchen.

“get the first aid kit,” nami demands, opening zoro’s shirt to inspect the severity of his wound.

“do we even have one?” usopp replies as he shifts around every cupboard and drawer on the ship.

“zoro… can you hear me?” luffy’s quiet voice gets lost in the commotion your two other crew mates are creating. but you take notice.

“he’s going to be alright,” you tell him. whether you say it for luffy or yourself, you aren’t certain.

“someone needs to go back to baratie,” nami sighs, running a hand through her ginger locks. “maybe one of the customers is a ship’s doctor.”

the devil fruit user blinks a couple times. “right. a doctor. we need a doctor.” he sprints out of the kitchen, presumably in search of one.

once your captain’s gone, nami aids usopp in scouring the kitchen, in search of anything that could potentially help your crew mate until he’s able to receive the proper medical attention.

you decide to stay right by zoro’s side. not once do you leave him.

[haruchi-slit]

"WHAT GOES AROUND

COMES AROUND"

synopsis: you're a strong love curse who loves to manipulate her opponents mind and emotions and satoru and suguru who was meant to take you out for good but things change..

warnings: p in v, mouth fucking, cunnilingus, threesome, geto never defected, suguru and satoru as teachers

the two men were supposed to be in their vacation but no, no, no, the higher ups said: "fuck your vacation, exorcize this curse instead" and they had to do it.

satoru and suguru were called and got assigned to take you down by end of the day, for you wreak havoc and disturbance to the civilians and other exorcists around japan, you were jumping city by city in order to not be caught but, they got tipped by a civilian that you're near their location after you had been seen fighting a sorcerer, the two men took the mission with no other options left, they took the folder containing your information...and your weakness.

you were feared by many for your ability to manipulate your opponents minds. you were known for your skills not only in combat but also in reading and exploiting your opponents thoughts and emotions.

one of your favorite techniques was to make your opponents sexually aroused. It was a simple yet effective way to distract and weaken your foes.

by using seductive words and gestures to make them lose control of their desires, yeah it was one to make your opponents lose.

however, there were consequences...it was your weakness, everytime you overuse your curse technique the effect of your power reflects to you.

you might be powerful, but luck isn't always on your side.

"fuck-!" you huff as you clenched your hands into a fist. you have just knocked out an above average sorcer, you pulled your hair back and started to catch your breath, you were preparing for your escape until you heard cackling voices and distant murmuring, it made your ears perk up, before roaming your eyes to your surrounding,

"show your self, fool!" you shout, which only made the chuckling voices louder, you feel your sweat trickling down your spine as you shout, you were nervous and definitely vulnerable right now, you knew you should've not overused your curse technique.

as you huff heavily, two figures stepped out off the bushes near you, you tried to stand properly but to no avail you dropped on your knees. they were there the whole time, watching you fight their kind, they emerge with a annoying smirk plastered on their stupid faces.

"no need to stress, babe" the man with snowy locks teased, which made you cringe "how long have you been there?" you struggled, with your voice shaking almost uncontrollably, "long enough to see you struggle with your own curse technique" the raven haired man shrugs, still smirking like an idiot while your body was getting hotter and hotter while the interaction flows thru, you knew you couldn't fight right now but there was no choice.

you need to escape,

so you punched their guts to make a distraction and ran for your dear life, you tried to run as fast as you can but only to be cornered by them, "what the fuck do you want!" you shout, "you've been literally causing disturbance and sucking souls from our sorcerers" the long haired guy sassed with furrowed brows "and you're telling us what do we want?" the white haired man adds,

"I'll kill you both" you threaten, "but you can't your powers are useless" the man with white hair spoke once more, "let me go, can you? i r-really need to go" you used your cursed technique as your last resort and it's the worst idea you've done, I can't blame you though you didn't have any choice.

you flicked your eyelashes at them, as your irises formed into a whirlpool, trying to control their mind- but they remained unfazed. They could see through your every move and were not affected by your words or actions. your curse technique reflected back to you, making you much vulnerable than before, you dropped down to your knees as you feel your cursed technique effect your body badly and there's only one way to get out off this and it's a really bad idea.

you are fucked, literally.

some moments past...

"anghn~ fuck! " you'd stammer as the two men nibble on the valleys of your neck, leaving passionate marks, while the atmosphere gets thicker and thicker with your arousal,

"no more actin' though?" the long haired man laughs, "could've told us you're feeling some..." the white haired man pauses, "things earlier instead of trying to suck our souls" he continues, with attitude, continuing to nibble on your plump skin.

"you fuck-ing! humans-ack!" you winced, once you felt someone bite your neck, "we have a name, you horny little curse." the long haired man stated, "he's suguru, I'm satoru. I'm sure you already heard of us" the white haired man said, yanking your skirt up, "you're so fucking wet..." he grumbles, tugging your panties off, your breathing became uneven, while your pussy pulsed and gripped around nothing, your eyes became hazy and you felt your head almost spinning.

your body shivered as soon as satoru laid his tongue on your cunt,

"ahghh-!" you squeaked, barely standing on the ground, satoru notices it, and quickly placed your thigh on his shoulder. it feels so good, it felt so deadly, your body tingled everytime suguru trails kisses on your neck, it was electric, it felt unreal.

"mgh- don't! don't stop!" you'd wept, as you subconsciously jerk and buck your hips on the bridge of his nose-

"enjoying it?" suguru teased, drawing his calloused fingers on your perked nipples, earning a satisfied moaned from you, "d-don't stop- please.." you begged desperately. satoru gripped your shivering thigh on his shoulder before lifting it up and adjusting his mouth to your clit, once he was satisfied, he drew tight little circles and made sure he never missed a spot, your eyes flutter shut, as your eyeballs falls deep- deep in your skull, "so-" satoru pauses, sucking your juices dry, "fucking-" he pauses again, letting his tongue feast on your luscious cunt, "sweet.." he closed his eyes looking like the luckiest man on earth, as you came. hard. your juices dripped so appetizing, he looked so appetizing.

suguru reaches down on your sopped pussy scooping every cum he can gather on his finger tips, you flinched on his touch, he then placed his finger tips that's dripping with your cum in his mouth, swirling his tongue on his finger tips making sure he savors every last bit of it, "you're right. she's sweet" suguru agrees.

"bend over, curse" suguru commands with a smooth and suave tone as your body quickly moved on it's own, it felt good, too good even.

you placed your hands in a tree nearby before spreading your legs evenly, "good girl.." he purrs before unbuttoning his pants off, revealing his raging pale pink tip, he lets his pants pool down on his knees before he grabbed a handful of your ass, he slides his cock up and down, painfully slow as your body jerked on it's own before he finally aligned his member on your entrance, slowly sliding his cock gently in your gummy walls, "hmff!-" you'd try to suppress your moans as suguru continues to slide his thick cock in, "goodness" he huffs "you're so fucking tight" his face contorts into a pleased emotion, as you feel him fill your cervix, you felt satoru come to your side with his leaking tip out, his uniform tugged between his mouth, revealing his chiseled abs, "don't forgewt mfh", he teased, but you barely understood what he said, you glide your free hand to his cock, palming his cock back and forth, while suguru pounds you with no remorse, that you struggled to stand properly, "ahm!" suguru pounds hard and again and again and again that you've lost count.

you can see satoru's face contort into a fucked out state, his abs flexing and bulging as your hand moved up and down, "k-keep goin'" he struggled to talk, his eyes fluttering shut, damn he's so fucking gorgeous.

as suguru feels your walls clench harder and harder he grips your waist, supporting your body as he pounds deep, so deep in your hungry cunt, "fuck, fuck- ahmn!" you moaned as suguru lifts your leg in the air placing it in his waist, "fuck- you're soo fucking deep- ahg!" you wailed, as suguru reaches the deepest spots of your pussy, as satoru took the opportunity to shove his cock in your mouth,

"mmn! -nnm!" you gawked as satoru pushes his hips with caution, "breathe, baby- fuck your mouth feels so good.."

suguru places your leg down gently before grabbing both of your arms behind your back before pounding once more, "I'm gonna come", "I'm gonna come" was all you can chant in your pretty head as you clenched suguru's dick, you can feel your abdomen move and clench and with suguru's final thrust you came, cum gushes down to your leg as both men continued to thrusts in sync, "you're so cute.." suguru murmurs, "wonder if curses can get pregnant" he banters, with satoru responding with a chuckle, "i hope s-so", and with satoru's last trust he came, inside your mouth, "mhmmnn-!" he hums in pleasure, letting his cock rest in you for a while, while suguru cums soon after, "s-shit.." he grunts, before thrusting in you again pushing back his cum in you, satoru takes his member out your mouth, the three of you catched breaths, before satoru kneeled down to kiss you.

... moments later after satoru and suguru arrived in the school...

"WHAT?! YOU LET HER GET AWAY!?" principal yaga shouts, "we'll catch them, don't worry" satoru assures, chuckling

[virginsexgod69]

would die for a dom Daryl who’s absolutely weak for fem reader but displays that in the way that he craves hearing her beg for him, is obsessed with drawing things out and making her cum and LOVES cockwarming omg. Established but new relationship would be so cute!!! And since they’re still learning eachother’s bodies (and their own honestly because maybe neither of them have rly let their guards down in sex with others before?) Daryl makes the reader squirt for the first time and is absolutely amazed 🤭

(Wanna thank in advance because I feel like squirting is not represented very often in fics and it’s so nice to read it, as a human who experiences it myself!) <3 :-)

❝ Oasis ❞

pairing Daryl Dixon x f!Reader

cw smut, cockwarming, unprotected p in v, squirting, pussy eating

889 words

not proofread yet

 You rested against Daryl’s chest as he took another drag from his cigarette. You lazily watched the way his pretty pink lips wrapped around the cigarette, wishing they were on your clit instead. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before going back to his cigarette. You were growing impatient. He’s had his large cock stuffed inside you for what felt like forever, yet he insisted on making you wait until he was through with his cigarette. You looked up at him pleadingly, but he didn’t give in. 

“C’mon, Daryl, please?” You begged, squirming in his lap. His rough hands placed a firm grip on your hips, keeping you still. 

“If you keep wigglin’ aroun’, ‘m not gonna let you cum,” he warned as he put out the finished cigarette. You sat up straight, looking him in his dazzling blue eyes. He put his hand behind your neck and pulled you down for a kiss, tasting your mouth with his tongue. You pulled away when the need for oxygen took over. 

“I’ve been real patient this whole time.” You batted your eyelashes at him with faux innocence. You ran your fingers through his hair, pulling gently. You’ve come to find out that he loved it when you did that. A gentle grunt slipped from his lips. “Fine,” he said, finally giving in. Holding your hips, he guided you up and down on cock, thrusting his own hips up meeting you halfway. He pulled you into another kiss before sucking marks onto your neck and chest. You gripped onto Daryl’s shoulders for support, digging your nails into him though the fabric of his button-up shirt. The thick vein on the underside of his shaft rubbing against your velvety walls brought you close to the edge. The bowman pulled your tank top down, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the garage. 

“So pretty,” he commented before taking one into his mouth. You tangled your fingers in his hair as your rhythm became sloppy. His dick was rubbing against that one spot that drove you mad. It felt so good, yet so strange, like you needed to pee and cum at the same time. But you didn’t dwell on it as you continued to ride your boyfriend. 

“‘M gonna-”

“Go ‘head, baby. Cum fer me,” he encouraged, rubbing your clit for extra stimulation. Daryl held onto you as you threw your head back in ecstasy. The coil in your gut burst, sending a white hot orgasm flooding through you. But this felt better than your typical orgasms. A rush of liquid flowed out of you as you came. You and Daryl looked at each other with wide eyes. 

“Did ya jus…” He looked down at his soaked lap with a flushed face. He prided himself in making you feel so good that you squirted. 

“Oh my god, Daryl,” you said between pants. “I didn’t know I could do that.” His warm hand supped your face gently. 

“Needa taste ya.” His eyes were so full of lust you could barely tell they were blue. Before you could reply, he picked you up off his cock and placed you on his work table, spreading you out. His flattened tongue lapped up your juices from your slit like a dehydrated man finding an oasis. Still sensitive, you let out gentle whimpers, everything felt even more heightened. He inserted his tongue into your tired, soaked hold. His hand groped your thighs as he ate you out, his tongue hitting you in that same spot that made you see stars. 

“Yeah, right there, keep doin’ that!” You begged Daryl. 

 His fingers found your clit and began rubbing rapid circles on the swollen nub. Your back arched off the table as your hips chased his mouth and thighs clamped around your head. His tongue continued licking around your smooth walls, eliciting wanton moans from you. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing him deeper between your thighs. His own hand found his achingly hard member, stroking it as he brought you to your second orgasm. The same feeling overtook you as that coil burst once again. Feeling your juices squirt onto his tongue brought him to his own orgasm as he drank them up. Reluctantly, Daryl pulled away from your abused cunt. He licked the remaining liquid off the inside of your thighs before helping you off the table. 

“You taste so good, Sunshine,” he praised as he cleaned you up with his red rag. You pressed a kiss to his cheek as a way to thank him for making you feel so good. 

Join the Taglist?

Masterlist

Taglist

@fuckedbydaryl @banquetwriter @eternalrose81

[thewriterwithnoplan]

THE WINTER KEEP (2/2)

Summary: You have fled the Red Keep, the Greens and Alicent's poison. It is time to play your hand and herald your mother's ascension on a larger scale. You will fly to Winterfell, treat with the Lord Cregan Stark and await your brother. You are weak and a girl, no longer. You are a dragon ready to spill blood to ensure your promises are kept.

[Part 2 to The Highest Tower]

Soulmate AU: Your animal familiar leads you to your soulmate.

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Reader 

Word Count: 5631

Warnings: Canon typical warnings, swearing, canon divergence, my first time writing for hotd, pretty sure I'm missing something...

Masterlist

Laesuvion had taken to the skies through a hole in the dragon pit. Swift and lethal and stealthy as a white dragon against dark clouds could be. Come morning the whole of Kings Landing would know that you had fled. Come morning the usurper King and his council of snakes would be plotting your demise. You would need every advantage, every inch of distance you could gain before they found the wherewithal to send men after you. The Queen could protect you no longer, your time as her ward had passed. As Laesuvion crested the skies above the Red Keep, and you urged him north, you left just as you had arrived all those years ago. Rhaenyra’s only daughter. Her greatest supporter. Her most loyal weapon.

It took some days to fly north, you rested only once. On the second night of flying, setting down in the swamplands just beyond Greywater Watch. You swaddled yourself in your flying cloak and huddled in a hollow tree as Laesuvion hunted. Sleep came in fitful bursts, each gust of wind and animal sound convincing you that despite your head start from having flown through night and day and night again, the king's loyal men had somehow found you. You awoke around dawn to find Laesuvion’s bulk curved around your tree, his breathing deep and rhythmic in sleep. You crept toward his front claws and the charred mass caged there.

Your first food in some hours, since the day prior when you had polished off the meagre supplies you had smuggled out of the Keep. You tore charred clumps from what might have once been a deer or livestock from a nearby farm. You set these aside in case Laesuvion woke hungry, as you shredded his offering until– There, protected by the cocoon of hardened char, well-cooked meat. You gorged yourself.

You took to the skies an hour later, dehydration your greatest enemy so close to the searing sun. You wrapped your cloak around you, tied yourself firmly to the saddle and tried desperately to catch another snatch of rest. Through that morning, that evening and night, Laesuvion tore through the skies of Westeros.

You landed in the Northlands on the third dawn of your travels. The south gate of Winterfell rose to greet you, a small host of men waiting under its shelf. Dehydrated, exhausted, terrified, you could have wept with joy.

“Holt!” You startled. It was a woman.

“I mean no harm.” You dismounted Laesuvion carefully, moving purposefully to disguise your limb's feeble shakes. At eye level, though separated by a good fifty yards you repeated, “I mean you no harm.”

“Your dragon?” The woman demanded.

The men shifted nervously as Laesuvion gave a chest-deep rumbling purr. “Merely glad to have found our destination.”

“Come forward.”

“To whom do I speak?” You inched forward, Laesuvion nosing at your back.

“Sara Snow.” Up close you found Sara Snow to be very beautiful. With ebony hair twisted in intricate braids and eyelashes so long they caught snowflakes. A true northern beauty, with a sword strapped to her back and a pelt secured to her shoulders.

“I seek an audience with Lord Cregan Stark.”

“He is in a meeting with his men.”

“He will want to speak to me.” You smiled pleasantly, “He owes loyalty to my mother, the Queen.”

“House Stark owes loyalty to King Viserys.” Sara jutted her chin, “No oaths were sworn to his lady-wife.”

“You misunderstand me, Sara Snow. I speak of my mother, the Realms Delight. Queen Rhaenyra to whom Lord Rickon swore fealty.”

The men sent furtive glances to one another. Sara paused and then curtsied. “Forgive me, Princess. The North had not heard word of you for some years now, we feared you had been lost.”

“Ah, I have been kept to the Keep for some time.”

“Winterfell is most honoured to–” Sara turned.

The sound of crunching snow, hurried footsteps, quickened breath. One of Sara’s men toppled to the ground as a dire wolf barrelled through his legs. Pitch black but frosted with snow, it careened toward you. The man giving chase shouted the wolf’s name, skidded around the line of men, and stumbled to a stop mere inches in front of you. In what seemed to be perfect, practised coordination, Laesuvion jammed his snout into your back as the dire wolf danced around his owner's legs. In a heap of limbs, winter cloaks, and riding leathers, you collapsed on the man and fell to the snow.

You wheezed; the air knocked from your lungs. Your limbs shook as you scrambled up, plating a hand on the man's face as leverage.

“Sir.” You hissed; with all the royal poise you could muster. Alicent would be appalled. Your mother would be beyond amused.

“My apologies, lady.” The man grabbed your hips to lift you from him. Mortified you slapped his hands away and fought to your feet. “If you would just let me–”

You struggled, “Unhand me!”

“Here, just–” You planted a knee in his groin. He tried to curl up beneath you.

“Get off me!” You gave him a harsh shove and fumbled to your feet. “How dare–”

Sara Snow launched into raucous laughter. Hand clutching her side as she howled in delight. Her men shuffled as if wondering whether to intervene. Your assailant hobbled to his feet, one handheld protectively over his front, the other outstretched toward you as if to keep you at a distance.

You whirled toward Sara, “What is the meaning of this?”

“Apologies, lady.” The man heaved, his dire wolf prancing about his feet. “It was an honest accident. Shadow has been tense of late.”

“You let your wolf run wild in such a way?” You sneered.

“As wild as you allow your dragon to be.”

As if on cue, Laesuvion pressed the length of his head to your back again. The dire wolf herded his owner.

“Laesuvion?” You turned, pressing your freezing fingers to the scales of his nose. “Lykirī, iōrās aril.” (be calm, stay back).

He huffed and shoved at your hands. You toppled again; this time the man caught you against his chest. Laesuvion shuffled back, his tail swishing through the snow in a great arch. A growl rumbled up his throat as one of Sara’s men tried to approach.

“Ah.” The man smiled down at you in understanding.

You tried shoving at him again, but his grip held firm. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like I am a wolf pup or a precious stone, or some covetous thing.”

“You are more precious than both I fear, and certainly something to covet.” He held your forearms to contain your struggle. “I have waited many years to find my Promised. I did not imagine you would be so violent.”

Sara coughed, “Welcome brother. Might I be the first to introduce you to our Princess, daughter of Rhaenyra. She has come from King’s Landing to treat with you.” She sketched a bow, her lips still trembling, “Your Highness, my brother, the Lord Cregan Stark.”

You gaped, your mouth opening and closing. A myriad of emotions warmed your face. Bone deep mortification. The purest delight. Wonderment. Utter confusion. Behind you, the dire wolf, Shadow, ran playfully around Laesuvion. Your dragon moved to face the tiny yipping creature, stealing his warm breath from your back. You shivered the cold striking through you like a physical blow.

“Princess?” Cregan Stark asked softly. “Are you well?”

“I am cold and hungry and tired, and I wish to bathe.” You said in a rush, utterly horrified with yourself.

But your Promised only smiled, “Of course.”

Cregan Stark was a most gracious host. In the hours since your arrival, you had been given quarters in the same hall as that of the Starks. A maid had gone about filling the tub in your rooms with water warmed on the fire, to which she added fragrant oils and sweet-smelling soap. As you bathed the maid returned – Atara, you learned – to ply you with cheeses and fresh bread, soft meats, and stewed root vegetables. Once you had been thoroughly scrubbed and fed, you dressed in the soft night clothes Atara had brought with her and curled up in the thick expanse of blankets atop your bed.

You were allowed to sleep for far longer than you might have suspected. Only being roused by Atara once the sun had well and truly set.

“Your Highness, Lord Stark asks that you join his family for dinner.”

You tumbled out of bed, and over to the dresser where you let her braid back your hair in the northern style. She handed you a thick winter dress that Sara had sent for you to borrow and allowed you to don it yourself. Stepping in only to tighten the taught laces at its back. You delighted in the simple joy of dressing yourself, so used to the Queen’s maids who scrubbed you raw and laced you tightly into dresses all shaded the same insidious green.  

Atara whispered to you as she led you through the halls of Winterfell, “Lord Stark is a good and generous man. He has been Warden of the North for some years now, he is a just leader and kind to those in his employ. It is his uncle, who was his regent, and his power-hungry cousins you must watch.”

“Will they be at dinner?”

“No, they are north and east in Karhold. Though his sister will be present.”

“Sara Snow. She is his sister born? I assumed the Lord was her brother-at-arms, not a true blood relative.”

“Indeed,” Atara corralled you down another cavernous hall. “She is his sister and among his most trusted advisors.”

“Why does she bear the name Snow?”

“It is the surname given to those born out of wedlock in the north.”

“And this is not an issue in the north?”

Atara considered it for a moment, “For some it is. But Lord Stark is a better man than most.”

You wondered if she had been sent to sing his praises or if the people of the north were truly so enamoured with their lord.

“Is he not married?” You asked hesitantly, the thought had not yet crossed your mind.

Atara grinned, “He is not, Your Highness.”

“Nor betrothed?”

“Nor does he have a lover.” She assured. “We servants would know.”

“Thank you, you have been most enlightening.” You smiled as you reached the Stark’s private dining hall, “I will see to myself tonight. Please, enjoy your evening.”

Atara curtsied, “Have a most wonderful night, Your Highness.”

You most certainly would.

The Starks took private dinners in a humble hall. Three places had been set at the far end of the dining table with a generous spread laid out between them. Cregan and Sara looked up from their conversation as you crossed to your seat.

“My apologies, Lord Stark, Lady Snow.” You bowed your head. “I did not mean to keep you waiting.”

Sara snorted into her cup, “Please, Princess, formalities are for the feasting hall and for those whose names you cannot remember.”

“Sister,” Cregan hissed.

You fought a smile, “Forgive me, Sara, I would not have you think I had forgotten your name already.”

“How does the dress fit?”

“Wonderfully,” You swished from side to side, “You are most generous.”

“I have never had a sister,” she said thoughtfully.

Cregan spluttered into his cup. You grinned, “Nor I.”

You thought only briefly of Heleana and her mother and their glittering cage.

Cregan leapt from his seat to pull yours out for you, “Please, ignore my sister, she is overly friendly.”

“Please, ignore my brother,” Sara mocked. “He is overly nervous.”

“Tis not everyday one meets their Promised.” He met your eyes fleetingly.

What a soft demeanour for the Warden of the North, you thought. Though you supposed you had smiled more today than you had in all your years in the Red Keep, so perhaps today was not a good judge of anyone’s character. You allowed him to serve up your plate as Sara kept up a steady stream of conversation. First marvelling at the fit of her dress on you, then the colour of your eyes, your hair in northern braids, your improved state after some well-needed rest.

“Is she not a sight, dear brother?” She teased.

“I apologise for my earlier state of unkempt.” You winced. You had hit the Lord of this castle, your Promised rather hard.

“I thought you looked marvellous.” Cregan argued, then seemed to realise what he’d said and hurried to add, “We have received reports that your dragon has taken to the Wolfswood.”

You exhaled slowly, “Laesuvion flew through day and night twice over to get me here so swiftly. He will be in need of food and rest as much as I.”

“Laesuvion. That is a beautiful name.” He said softly. “We can send meat if you wish?”

“He is a good hunter; he has fed himself since I was ten.”

“Still to have flown so fiercely, with so little rest…”

“It does not do well to deprive a dragon of its hunt. Especially in such times as these.”

Cregan placed his utensils down carefully, “Princess, what has brought you to Winterfell?”

You lowered your fork. Good, time to stop dancing around the subject. From the pocket of your skirt, you withdrew the King’s missive.

“I am not sure how far and fast word has travelled,” You looked to the siblings and frowned. “King Viserys is dead, and Aegon has been crowned in my mother's place. The night of his coronation Queen Alicent gave me this letter for you, Lord Stark, she wishes for us to marry.”

Cregan broke the seal of the King’s letter and read silently.

“There are worse things than to be told to marry ones Promised,” Sara joked lamely. You smiled weakly in the tense silence.

Finally, Cregan folded the letter and turned to you, “Why were you with the Queen, not with your mother on Dragonstone?”

“I have been the Queen’s ward for some nine years now.”

“And are you loyal to her?”

“As a dog is to its owner.”

“They are very loyal in the North,” Sara said.

“I was traded to her as reparations when my brother gorged her son's eye.” You said plainly, “I was her possession, but I remain my mother’s daughter.”

“House Stark swore fealty to Princess Rhaenyra when she was made heir,” Cregan watched you carefully. “There has never been a Stark who has forgotten an oath.”

“I too have made a promise to my mother. I intend to keep it.”

Cregan brandished the letter, “This offers your hand in return for the North’s neutrality in the coming conflict. Is that what you wish?”

“May I speak plainly, my lord?”

“Please.”

“That letter is likely a forgery by the Dowager Queen’s hand. She is mistaken on many fronts, I fear, the least of which was Aegon’s ascension to King. I do not wish to go to war with my kin, but if it becomes inevitable I would rather do so with strong allies and in support of my mother.”

His head tilted, “House Stark is already an ally of your mother.”

“Yes,” You folded your hands on the table. “I should tell you, Lord Stark. My mother has sworn to marry me to my Promised for my service as her spy in the Red Keep.”

“You wish us to marry?”

“I wish to offer you my hand, outside my mother’s promise or the Queen’s demands.” You cleared your throat, and just as you had carefully prepared on your journey here you said, “I have been trained in the ways of the court, I will be of use to you in councils and in handling the affairs of your territory. I am of royal breeding, you will be made Prince-Consort, our children Princes, and Princesses of the realm. I have dragon eggs for their cradles and Valyrian blood for their veins. I would ask only that you allow Laesuvion to stay with me in the North. If not, I shall wait here until such a time as my brother Jacaerys comes to treat with you, that I might return with him to Dragonstone.”

You watched the Lord, his eyes dancing with an unnamed light as he listened to you. “I will need time.”

“Of course, my Lord, speak with your advisors.”

“You misunderstand him, Princess.” Sara grinned.

Cregan smiled, “I will not marry you hastily. I will need to summon my family and prepare a feast. It is a special thing, for those of our station, to be given leave to marry our Promised.”

“I–” You were unsure what you expected. “I suppose it is.”

Sara clapped gleefully, “Shall we call for dessert?”

You wore the soft nightclothes once more as you sat at your vanity and penned your mother a letter.

Mother,

How I have missed you. Know that I have thought of you often and never strayed from my mission nor my loyalty to you.

I have fled King's Landing and taken the Lord Hands life with me. Though the smallfolk have no mind to protest whichever Targaryen collects their taxes, you have many allies in the Red Keep. I have interred a list of those Lords and Ladies who remain loyal to you as well as those I have heard of beyond and some whom we may turn with careful diplomacy.

I am at Winterfell with my Promised, Lord Cregan Stark, whom I will marry in the coming weeks. With your blessing, of course. I await Jacaerys, with news of our family and our strategy. In the meanwhile, I intend to discuss what supplies and men Winterfell may have to offer you.

Mostly I am writing to you because I can. I am overwhelmed with the freedom to do so, to be able to tell you once more how much I love you. I cannot imagine how this week has been for you, know that though we are separated I am your most fierce supporter.

I have had a thought, in my hours here, about how far Winterfell is from the capital. How far we will be if we are forced into battle and bloodshed. Perhaps you might consider sending Joffery here, to mine and my soon-to-be Lord Husband's care.

I hope you are well, Mother. I love you from the very depths of my heart.

You signed the letter with a careful flourish and set it aside. You would ask Atara where you might find a raven-master to have it sent. You touched your fingers to it softly, your first contact with your family in nearly a decade. To tell your mother that you were preparing for marriage and war.

As you blew out your candles and settled into bed, you hoped your mother would like Lord Cregan Stark.

On your fourth morning in Winterfell, you took morning tea with Sara. She had taken lengths to make you comfortable in the days since your arrival, and you took great joy in breaking your fast with her each morning. Today, you spent the early hours humming and haring over the tiny sample cakes you had been sent to taste for the upcoming feast. As you ate, Sara told you all that she could about the castle, the arriving lords, the Stark territory, and their histories.

Northern marriage traditions, you had learned, were not so different from those celebrated at King’s Landing, there would be the exchanging of cloaks and binding words spoken before gods but there would also be a hunt. Women such as yourselves would not be invited but you would find your own fun, Sara assured.

“It is tradition to have the pelts in your quarters and the meats on the feasting table.”

You lifted a citrusy cake between your thumb and forefinger, “Husband and wife share quarters here?”

“Most,” Sara said thoughtfully, “Though I’m sure Cregan would accommodate you if it is different in the south.”

“What happens if their hunt is unsuccessful?”

“I imagine there will be much embarrassment among the North, that we could not bring our Princess quarry for her wedding table.” Sara snatched the half-eaten cake from your hands and winked, “Fear not, Cregan is a good hunter.”

“If he is not,” You smiled fiendishly, “I suppose the two of us will have to find meats for the feast ourselves.”

Sara snorted, “I think my brother would be rather put out at being unable to provide you with a gift on your wedding day. But the look on his face as we return from our own hunt is almost worth it.”

You jolted, “Am I to bring him a gift?”

“You have brought him dragon eggs.”

“For our children.” You argued.

“For his heirs,” She assured, “I think he is already downtrodden at the idea of only being able to bring you fur and meat.”

“I bring only scales and fire.”

“You will be a very warm family.”

“And very well-fed.”

Sara snatched another cake from you, “Only if you keep eating all of these before I get a taste!”

You guffawed. “I am hungry, and they are so tiny!”

“They need be, so you can keep eating.”

“And I shall!”

“Your Highness, Lady Snow,” Atara curtsied as she entered, “Lord Stark has requested your presence in the courtyard.”

“Another lord has arrived?” Sara sank her teeth into another teacake. “Which house does he hail from?”

“No Lord, my Lady.” Atara looked to you uneasily, “A Prince. Of House Targaryen.”

After nearly nine years kept apart by the waters of Blackwater Bay, and three long days separated by your duties, the time had come. You caught your first look at your eldest brother as you left the comfort of the Great Keep and nearly crumpled to the ground. Sara laid a steadying hand at your shoulder as Atara whispered sweet comforts. But nothing could prepare you for the sight laid out in the courtyard.

Jacaerys, with Vermax perched atop the walls of the keep. Jacaerys, with tousled dark hair. Jacaerys, once the awkward boy you followed dutifully, now an emissary of the Queen. Jacaerys, your brother. Jacaerys, your mother’s son.

“Jacaerys!” You ran. Past Sara and Atara, past Cregan and his warning cry. You ran. Almost straight into the end of your brother’s sword. You pulled to a halt, the blade a whisper away from your sternum, “Jacaerys?”

“Sister,” He sneered. “How far you are from your castle.”

“I have escaped.”

“You have been sent as an emissary of the usurper and his cunt-mother.”

“She did not tell you?” Your arms slumped at your side. “Mother sent me as a spy, she and Daemon trusted me to–”

“Her trust was misplaced. You have betrayed us.”

“I have come here to rally the North for our mother’s claim, just as you have.”

“You have come here to better your station.”

“I am a Princess.” You hissed, confused, and insulted.

“You are Princess of nothing, of no house.”

“I am of House Targaryen,” You pressed forward until the tip of his sword tore through the bodice of your dress and blood welled. You turned, held out your hand and gave Cregan a pleading look, he shifted but stayed back. “I am Princess of loyalty, of oaths and duty. I have come to the North to escape the Greens, to tell our mother, the Queen, all that I have discovered these years.”

“Where was loyalty,” Jacaerys shook with rage. “When they dragged us before the Iron Throne and called our mother a whore and our brothers bastards? Where was duty, when Lucerys was nearly stripped of his birthright? Where were you when Laenor died? When Rhaenys flew to our mother's side to tell her of–”

“Our father is dead?” You whispered.

“Your father is Daemon.” He growled under his breath.

You reeled back, “My father is Laenor Velaryon.”

“It is Daemon. He told us so himself when he married Mother.”

“Daemon and mother are married?”

His sword sagged slightly, “The Greens did not tell you? What of Viserys and Aegon?”

“Our grandsire and uncle?”

Jacaerys looked pained, “Our brothers.”

You fell to your knees, shoved your face in your hands and wept. Jacaerys jerked his sword backward and staggered away from you as Cregan rushed to your side.

“Princess?” He wrapped a protective arm over you. “What is the matter?”

“The question of Driftmark’s succession,” Jacaerys stared at you in horror. “Where were you?”

“I did not know!” You sobbed. “I did not know!”

“Otto Hightower said you would not see us, that you felt abandoned and betrayed when Mother gave you to the Greens.”

Cregan pulled you closer to him as Jacaerys inched forward. He growled, “Stand back. You have no enemies among the Starks. Do not make one.”

“I went willingly, for mother, for Lucerys.” You glared up at your brother. “You watched me! I traded my life; you watched me do it!”

“Otto Hightower–”

“Is dead!” You bared your teeth. “I fled King’s Landing, and I killed the man who usurped our mother, and you as her heir. I am loyal, I am steadfast, I am your greatest supporter as heir.”

“Tis true.” Cregan attested. “She has come to the North in support of your mother's claim. She has offered her hand to me, and we have talked much of giving your mother’s children sanctuary here.”

“You are betrothed?” Jacaerys whispered.

“I am.” You said proudly.

Cregan smiled at you softly, “The North is yours, my Prince. So long as my Promised wills it.”

“Sister.” Was all Jacaerys could say. “Sister.”

“Come,” Cregan lifted you to your feet. “My betrothed will catch a cold out here, let us speak inside.”

.

Cregan sat you gently by the fire swaddling you in the great expanse of his cloak. Sara brought tea to your side while your brothers sat at the other end of the room to discuss politics.

“Did you hear?”

Sara blew on her cup, “I heard a lot.”

“Did you hear what he said about my father?”

“That you lost one? Or that…” She pursed her lips.

“That I am Daemon’s bastard.”

“I did.”

“Do you think Cregan heard?” You burrowed into his cloak.

She gave you a secret smile, “Does it matter? You are a Princess, twice over. And Cregan keeps me around, does he not?”

“I only meant…” You turned away. “I fear he may think me liable to follow in my mother’s footsteps.”

“Will you?”

You stared at her, “Cregan has been kind to me, listened to me, protected me – given me more than anyone has ever offered me. And he is my Promised. Why should I stray from him?”

“Then there is no reason to fret.”

“And the King’s Hand?”

“What of him?”

“I killed him.” You half hid your face in your teacup.

“Do you regret it?” Sara asked curiously. “It is no small thing, to kill a man.”

“He has haunted my family for generations. I would do it again.”

Sara shrugged, “Then we will speak no more of it, justice has been served. I’m sure Cregan will more than agree.”

“Will he?”

“He has been forced to make decisions even further North of here, at the wall.” She took a long sip of tea and stared into the flames. “Some even I do not agree with. But we are family, and he is your Promised. So, it does not matter, does it?”

“No.” You stared into your cup. “I suppose not.”

“Princess!” The man in question came over with a charming grin, “Your brother has offered to escort you at our wedding.”

Jacaerys looked at you timidly, “If you will have me, sister.”

You looked first to Cregan who nodded, and then to Jacaerys with a soft smile. “Of course, brother. Nothing would please me more.”

The letter from your mother arrived another four days later. It came to you clutched in Jacaerys’ hand with the seal broken. He had caught the raven just south of Winterfell as he, Cregan and the Northmen returned from the ceremonial hunt.

“I apologise, sister, I have never been accused of being patient.”

You scoffed, “Some things do not change.”

“Indeed,” Jacaerys said rather gravely. “I must ask a small favour of you before I give you this letter. It is on behalf of myself and our mother.”

You straightened, “Of course brother.”

“You will not open it until after you have been blissfully wedded to Lord Stark.” He paused at your dubious look, “Mother has words she wishes to share only after your wedding. Congratulations and such.”

“I suppose that is agreeable.” You took the letter carefully, “Though we require her blessings to move forward.”

“And you have them.” He tapped the letter. “In there. You shall marry your Promised tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

And so, you married him that night.

The Godswood was eerie in the darkness of night. Though lit by the torches of countless Northmen, it felt as if the darkness were reaching cool unnatural fingers toward your procession. Coaxing you, in your red-black Maiden Cloak toward the foot of the weirwood heart tree, where your Lord-Promised, his uncle, and the dire wolf Shadow wait. Jacaerys held your hand tightly as if frightened to let you go. Around you, Lords and honoured guests planted their torches in the snow, lighting the way for you and your brother. The wind whistled through the silence, broken only by the great rumbling in Laesuvion’s chest where he perched on the lip of the keep’s gate.

"Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" Called Bennard Stark.

Jacaerys whispered your name, then cleared his throat in embarrassment and announced it proudly, "Daughter of the House Targaryen, comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?"

"Cregan, of House Stark,” Your Promised sent you a small secret smile, “Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. Who gives her?"

"Jacaerys, of the House Velaryon, who is her brother and Prince." Jacaerys gave your hand a firm squeeze as he gave you to Cregan.

"Princess,” Lord Bennard made an admirable effort to say your name without disdain, “Will you take this man?"

You took Cregan’s large warm hands in your own and smiled, “I take this man.”

Silently, hands joined, you knelt to the cold earth. Around you, the Lords of the North fell to their knees and bowed their heads in deference. Foreheads pressed together, you and Cregan offered silent prayers to the Old Gods. When you stood as one, Sara was there in her uncle's place, a cloak of thick, luscious fur in the silver-grey of House Stark.

You tipped your head back as Cregan fiddled with the ties of your Maiden’s Cloak. You smiled at the sky as he struggled gently against your neck. Finally, it loosened, there was a brief shock of cold and then there was wonderous heat, the furred collar tickling your chin. You look to Cregan then, donned in his colours, wrapped in his protection. You smile softly at one another and lean into a soft kiss.

The black sky lights up with swashes of red as Laesuvion spits fire at the stars.

All at once sound returns to the Godswood as the witnesses of your nuptials cheer, chief among them is your brother. You laugh in delight as Cregan grips your cheeks and plants another kiss on your lips. Shadow yips at your heels as your husband sweeps you up into his arms and carries you toward the Great Hall.

He whispers sweet promises for your future, and you have never been more grateful to know how fiercely a Stark is at keeping their word.

It was the wolf’s hour when the festivities swelled through the Great Hall and you found yourself drawn to a quiet corner. You excused yourself from your husband by pressing a chaste kiss to his temple. He smiled softly at you and trailed his fingers from yours as you walked toward the hearth roaring at the far end of the hall. You pulled your mother's letter from your pocket and pressed your fingers against her seal as if you could fuse the two halves back into a whole. She and Jacaerys would not mind, you were sure, it was your wedding day after all, and you craved an inch of your mother’s presence.

You unfolded her letter and read:

My dearest girl,

I have never doubted you and I do not do so now.

You have my blessings. Marry the Lord Cregan Stark and take joy in your Promised. I will entrust Baela and Rhaena to bring your young brothers into your care.

You have served me well, which is why I write to you now, though my heart tells me to spare you.

Aemond has taken Lucerys’ life. War has come.

You looked up gripping the letter until your fingers drew indents in the paper and made desperate eye contact with Jacaerys’ pained face. A sound halfway between a scream and a sob tore from your throat, drowned by the thundering roar of Laesuvion overhead. Cregan stood, fighting to stumble his way toward you, as the walls of Winterfell rattled with your fury.

Nine years you had spent in the Red Keep, learning your enemies inside and out. Carefully ushering pieces across a board too vast for you to comprehend, hoping desperately you could stop a war conceived long before you. It all narrowed to this moment. Wrapped in the cloak of your husband’s house, framed by the hearth fire, as your dragon raged above.

Your Brother. Your Dragon. Your Husband.

By Blood. By Fire. By the Old God’s Promise.

You would avenge your brother and bring war to the Greens.

[bluehourbucky]

Travelling for Pleasure

pairing: mob!bucky x f!reader

summary: you and Bucky are currently on a vacation travelling around Europe but there's other things you'd rather do than explore the city

a/n: these pics brought out the worst out of me I apologise / no plot just pure filth

warnings: daddy kink / degrading / dom!bucky / spanking / orgasm denial / unprotected sex/ face fucking / brat taming /

NO MINORS PLEASE !

masterlist / bucky masterlist /

You'll never get tired of seeing your husband the first thing in the morning. It is always your favorite time of day. Even though you're not a fan of waking up early, seeing your husband in the morning light is always worth it.

It is breathtaking the sight you have privilage of waking up to.

"Morning handsome." Your husband turns around to look at you. He's standing in front of the mirror of the hotel suite just a few steps from the bed.

"Morning doll."

You smile and stretch Buckys eyes immediately, falling to your naked chest covered in his marks.

"Where are you going so early?"

"Got a meeting with a friend. Then we'll get breakfast and I will hopefully manage to take you out to see something."

You groaned into the pillow. Bucky promised to take you on no work vacation, but so far, he went to a meeting with a friend in every single place you visited. It's not like you're not thankful that your husband is taking you on a summer trip around Europe, but it's not as fun when you barely see him. And when you do see him,you're usually too horny to leave the hotel suite.

"Honey, you have to leave the hotel room eventually."

you dramatically sighed.

"But I don't want to go alone I wanna go with you ."

Bucky rolled his eyes because he tried to get you out of the room more times than he could count over the past few weeks, but you somehow always get him to fuck you like a little brat you are.

"Baby girl, the only landmark you saw was my cock and no matter how much I like being inside you, I gotta take you out a bit."

Bucky rolls his eyes again when you remove the whole cover off of you and your fingers find their way down to your clit.

"Doll." he gives you a warning, but you couldn't care less.

"You look so handsome, Daddy can't take it. I need you." You look at him through your eyelashes, checking him out once more. It is true you don't need much to get in the mood, especially with your husband looking like that. However, there's something about Europe Bucky that has you weak. The pants and the white tank top that shows off his arms and muscles makes you weak. Oh, how you love having his hands around your throat.

"I'll give you three seconds to stop doll, after that you'll be at my mercy and I promise you I won't be kind."

"Daddy.." You moan out, moving your fingers faster, chasing your release. Right as you were about to let go, your hands got pulled away above your head.

"My little wife is a fucking whore." Bucky grunts into your ear biting your earlobe, pushing you harder into the bed and his buldge against your dripping pussy. When he calls you little wife, you're a goner.

"Can't take you anywhere. Attention whore, I give you everything, the dresses the shoes the bags fucking taken you on a tour through Europe and all my little wife can think about is her husbands cock."

You squirm under him trying to get some friction, but he's holding you in place, and with every word, you're getting wetter and wetter.

"Please, Daddy." You cry out, which only gets you thrown over Buckys lap and a hard slap on both your ass cheeks.

"Can't believe I thought I taught you anything. You're just a hole to be filled. Look at you, already cock drunk without me even touching you."

The slap you receive next makes you move forward from the force Bucky hit you with, leaving you with a handprint over your ass. Tears start streaming down your face as your husband continues to spank your ass raw.

"Told you to stop, but my little brat doesn't know how to listen." Bucky slaps your ass one last time, then picks up the juice dripping from you and rubs it on your ass.

"Fucking hell, you're dripping for me, you like when I leave marks on this ass, see who you belong to."

Bucky leans down and bites your cheek making you scream.

"Please, please , Daddy touch me please."

Your husband chuckles darkly, fisting your hair and pulling you up just to drop you on our knees, and with the other hand, he unbuckles his pants, pulling out his cock. Your eyes water at his hard member, the veins and the precum making you drool.

"Open up wide, brat." Bucky slaps your tongue with the head, which earned a moan out of you.

He doesn't give you a moment to adjust to him before pushing his cock down your throat making you gag. You're doing your best to take all of him but he's too big and thick. Bucky fucks your mouth with no mercy, saliva dripping down your next straight to your pussy.

"Just like that." He says as he looks down at you taking the opportunity to grab your neck with the hand that's not in your hair.

"Taking me so well, see how deep I am." Bucky smirks when your face gets red from lack of air.

He releases your neck as he pulls out your lips swollen from the fucking.

"If you were just a bit patient, I would've treated you like a princess, but now I don't think you even deserve to cum." Bucky picks you up by your neck and throws you on the bed.

"What's your safe word?" his hands grab your jaw forcefully so you focus.

"Yogurt ." you manage to say and that's all he needs to spread your thighs and dive in.

"Oh god, daddy." you moan holding onto the sheets and Buckys hair for dear life. Bucky was feasting on you like a man starving.

"Please, please, please." You beg, and you don't even know what you're begging for anymore, your only thought is that you need to cum. Bucky, knowing your body better than you do pulls away right as you're about to let go.

"No. Please. No." You cry out jerking up, searching for something to help with your denied orgasm.

"Ah, you really thought I'd let you cum. Already got you cock drunk. Brats don't get to cum but you already knew that. You like that I'm now late to a meeting, and you'd like me to make an excuse for why I'm late. Ah, but I'll just say that my wife is a whore who needed to be thought lesson."

Your husband laughs when he slaps your pussy and you cry out.

"Don't you dare cum, little brat."

Bucky says as he finally enters you, giving you no time to adjust and thrusts deep into you and pulls out.

"Daddyyy."

Bucky wraps his hand around your neck as he fucks into you deeper and deeper until you see the stars.

He flips you over pushing your head down ass up and continues to fuck into you like there's no tomorrow.

"You like being fucked like this huh. Your husband fucking you like you're nothing more but a fuck toy."

You cry out when he pulls you by the hair and spits on your tongue.

" Fuck, gonna fill you up so good. Don't you dare cum you won't come for a month or two months even think about that."

"But-"

You don't get to finish the sentence since Bucky has just come in you and your mind has gone blank.

"Ao good to me my good little wife good only for breeding and nothing else."

Bucky grunts as he rides out his orgasm and you dare not to come, knowing fully well that you could not have an orgasm for a month.

When Bucky pulls out he goes straight to the luggage, pulling out a plug and slipping it into you.

"Be good. Don't touch yourself, I'll know if you did. Keep this here for 10 minutes and when I come back we're going for a walk and breakfast. Understand?"

You nodded half-heartedly, absolutely fucked out of your mind.

"Be back soon, I promise. Love you darling."

"Love you too." you whisper even though your husband already closed the door, you're not even sure how he managed to clean himself up so fast but to be fair you're in a haze and have no sense of time.

"Damn, I'm so lucky." you say to yourself when your brain finally exits the fucked out state, your body still shaking from the denied orgasms.

[the end]

likes comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

[helaelaemond]

To Shine - Aemond x Reader

HELAELAEMOND’S KINKTOBER

Pairing:  Aemond x f!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: You and Aemond share a loving and lazy moment together.

Content warning(s): none

KINK CATEGORIES: Dry humping, oral (male receiving)

Rating: E

Masterlist

Aemond leaned against the window ledge of your room and smiled as he read from the little volume of Valyrian history in his hands. His eye had roamed the page a dozen times before but speaking the words aloud brought them to a whole new life in the little room. The cool morning air nipped at his bare skin and bumps rose along the skin of his thighs and arms and stomach. He was aware of the gaze burning into him as he stood there but he did not look up, not even when you crossed from the bed to stand before him. 

“Don’t stop,” you whispered when Aemond paused his reading. Your lover smiled and continued. 

Standing at his side so as not to disturb the book in strong hands, you ran warm hands over Aemond’s waist. His stomach was taut from a lifetime of training, and you ghosted your fingers over it as they began their journey up to his chest, his shoulders, down his arms. Lips found their place at Aemond’s throat and made his voice tremble. You smiled and licked a slow and deliberate line towards his ear; soft, delicate, a tender spot for the prince. You blew very softly against the skin and Aemond stuttered, the suddenly hard grip on the book turning his knuckles white. 

“Keep going,” came a hot whisper against his ear. Aemond's eyes closed briefly. Gods, you had roused a burning for you. This was some sweet chase. Not a true chase though, not when you were already caught. He picked up where he left off and read aloud again. He was rewarded with a hand between his legs. 

Aemond was half hard from sleep and you took him into your warm hands firmly, fingers pulling at his balls and stroking his thick length until you felt him harden further. Meanwhile, cruel lips had found their way to the broad chest and were sealed around one pinched nipple, flicking and gently teething at it. Thusfar, Aemond was keeping more of his composure than you would have if your positions had been reversed. The slightest touch from Aemond, and you would beg to be fucked.  

You let him go briefly to pull your own shift off and cross to the dresser, where you tied your hair back in a ribbon, pulling your face free of soft strands. 

“You are so beautiful,” Aemond murmured from across the room. 

Stretching, you smiled. Your breasts lifted up with your arms over your head, and your body was utterly on view for him. The sight of it made Aemond’s mouth water. 

“Keep on reading,” you commanded him. The prince smiled, his eye crinkling at the corners, as he obliged. His voice was rich and low, still husky from the night. It wrapped you up like silk bonds, holding you fast, taking away your control, leaving you weak and desperate beneath his power. The voice pulled you back over to him and pushed you to your knees, wound its threads into your hair and parted your lips, pulling your tongue against your tall lover's cock. 

You licked up the flushed underside of Aemond, tongue flat and wet against his skin, and you looked up through your eyelashes for your lover’s reaction. When you sealed your lips around his head and sucked gently, you were rewarded with a low sigh. Loosening your throat, you sank Aemond past his lips as far as you could and bobbed your head slowly, building up your rhythm. 

On your knees, you had never felt so close to the gods. Aemond was holy. His sighs sacred, his cock the communion that you would not be denied. Bright lights dotted your vision and when Aemond moaned your name quietly, it was a chorus to your ears. Firm hands gripped Aemond's hips, and you felt him cover them with his own. He had stopped reading. 

“Kiss me,” Aemond murmured. You opened your eyes. When did you close them? 

You let his heavy prick slide slowly from your mouth and wiped the wetness from the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. You were more than half a foot shorter than Aemond, even when you were naked and free of crowns and shoes and padded jackets. Bare as the gods, it felt as if Aemond towered over you. 

The air between you was thick and you could still taste him on your tongue. You held the other’s gaze until neither one of you could breathe for the thickness of the air now. You still held his hips. Aemond’s hand had found your core and he stroked you. 

“Kiss me,” Aemond repeated. He never spoke as an order, not to you, but you knew it was never less than a command. You obliged. It was bruising, ferocious, almost violent. Sudden teeth and tongues struggled, and your feet stumbled in their haste to reach the bed. It didn’t matter who pressed who down first, not when you became nothing more than a tangled mess of limbs and sweat. 

You kissed him fiercely on the mouth and rolled him onto his back to straddle him and take his cock into your hand to stroke hard, but the sudden hand pulling your hair made you groan. Half of it was wrapped around your lover's wrist as he yanked on it and you complied willingly, desperately, letting yourself be pinned down onto the bed instead. Your legs fell open.

“Oh fuck!” you whimpered. “Harder!”

Aemond's lips pulled back over his teeth in a grin and he pulled on your hair again. He delighted in how it made your back arch off the bed and up towards him, how your lips met in more messy kisses that left you breathless and dizzy. 

“I would have you here again if I had not had you senseless last night,” Aemond whispered in your ear, biting the soft shell. You whimpered and clutched at his back. There was a familiar ache inside your body that was a vivid reminder of how roughly Aemond had had you, and you adored it. You adored even more how reluctant Aemond would be now to have you until you hurt no longer. 

“Show me other ways to have me,” you groaned, lips pulled up in a smile. 

That made Aemond chuckle and the vibrations shook both of your bodies. You pushed your hips up to grind against him, and he grinned widely. “I don’t need to show you anything.”

With his hands braced either side of your head, Aemond began moving hard against you, his cock sliding between your folds, and you wrapped your legs around your lover’s back to bring you as close as you could. 

“Do it anyway.” 

Aemond was close anyway. He buried his face into your neck and slammed his hips over yours again and again, the friction between you building to a head quickly. His hot cock slid so sweetly over your clit, over and over again. The tension was already in your belly. It was so good, and you were so close, so soon, so-

“Kiss me!” you gasped between soft moans. Aemond knelt up between your legs and began thrusting harder and faster. The friction was perfect, his every movement stimulating you just as you needed. You whined softly and pulled him down by his long hair. “Kiss me!”

Your final kiss was blinding. You gasped against his open lips, sucking in his hot breath, and came with a jerk of your body. You followed and pressed your foreheads together, his entire form juddering and convulsing. His seed dotted your stomachs, Aemond's hard and tense, yours soft. 

Another kiss. Tender this time, loving, devoid momentarily of passion, filled only with devotion. Aemond went limp above you and had the strength left, for the moment, only to touch your noses, your lips, and run a hand through your hair against the pillow. 

“Your hair came undone,” Aemond remarked in a voice softer than a whisper. 

“That’s alright,” you breathed. “It wasn’t meant to stay like that for long.”

“I like it down. It’s pretty.”

“Mmm. You think me pretty?"

Aemond kissed your forehead and tucked his head between your collarbone and jaw. "I think you the sun itself."

[xomakara]

Fevered Gaze

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | You end up dancing with San and Wooyoung at the club where you can’t help but want them.

PAIRING | San/Reader/Wooyoung

GENRE | smut with no (maybe a little) plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex, praising, dirty talk

RATING | Mature

LENGTH | 3957 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Hi.

The moment you step into the club, the pulsating beats of the music envelop you, drawing you deeper into the vibrant atmosphere. As you weave through the crowd, your eyes suddenly lock onto two figures across the room - Wooyoung and San. Their presence is magnetic, effortlessly commanding the attention of everyone around them. Wooyoung’s infectious energy is palpable, his laughter resonating above the music, while San’s cool, confident demeanor adds an intriguing contrast. You find yourself mesmerized, unable to tear your gaze away from the dynamic duo.

You watch as they move to the rhythm, their bodies in perfect sync with the beat. Wooyoung’s fluid, almost effortless dance moves are captivating, each one executed with a charisma that seems to light up the entire room. San, on the other hand, exudes a more subtle allure, his movements precise and deliberate, exuding a quiet intensity that draws you in even further. The synergy between them is undeniable, and you can't help but be fascinated by the way they complement each other so seamlessly.

"Are you thinking about getting some later?" a low voice purrs in your ear, breaking your trance. You glance over your shoulder, startled to see your friend, Yunho, sitting beside you.

You laughed and continued to look at the people on the dance floor. "Not with you."

"Oof, my heart." Yunho placed a hand over his heart in exaggeration. "So...Wooyoung and San?" he asked curiously.

You nodded in response, still staring at the two men dancing, taking everything in with unblinking intensity. "They're...they're amazing together."

Yunho tilted his head, confused. "What makes them amazing? The way they moved?"

"It's like they know exactly what the other wants without saying a word." You shook your head. "There was something so sensual and sexy about it."

"Uh huh, keep it in your pants girl." He nudged your side playfully, making you snort out loud before shrugging him off. "Whatever floats your boat I guess."

"Oh come on, it doesn't hurt to dream." You batted your eyelashes innocently.

"Dreams don't float unless you're wearing a life vest. Now go, have fun, we'll leave when I'm done drinking this bottle."

"Yes, sir." You saluted Yunho with a wink, before striding towards the two men. As you drew closer, the bass notes of the song suddenly rose, the throbbing vibrations penetrating your skin until your whole body felt as though it was buzzing. Your mouth went dry and your heartbeat increased as you approached them. Without even realizing it, your eyes were now fixed firmly on San, studying every line of his body. He shifted slightly, his back muscles flexing underneath his tight white t-shirt, making your lips part involuntarily. Wooyoung noticed your hesitation and grinned, flashing those dimples of his that made your knees weak. He gestured for you to join them on the dance floor, the seductive way he held his body swaying provocatively in time to the beat pulling you towards him.

"Yo, Y/N! Let's go!" he shouted enthusiastically, beckoning you closer with one finger. "Come dance with us."

"Wooyoung, you know I'm not the best dancer." You laughed, grabbing onto his hand to pull yourself close.

"I don't care, come dance with me anyway." He turned to face San, lifting his arm for you to join them. His voice rumbled through your body, sending chills down your spine. You gulped loudly, taking in the intoxicating scent of his cologne as he leaned closer to you. His warm breath caressed your cheek and neck, igniting the flame inside of you that you had long since forgotten existed.

San didn't say anything as he took your hands, wrapping his arms around you possessively. His gentle touch sent tingles through your entire body, leaving you feeling weak and vulnerable. You instinctively curled your fingers into his hair, holding on tightly as he pulled you against him. Wooyoung wrapped his free arm around your waist, gently resting his hand on the small of your back. You gazed up at him, drinking in his handsome features, wondering how it was possible for someone so perfect to exist in real life.

You forgot all about Yunho as the three of you began moving to the beat, losing yourself in the music. As the night wore on, the alcohol started to hit you hard, loosening your inhibitions and leaving you feeling relaxed and comfortable. Before you knew it, you found yourself sandwhiched between the two men, swaying to the music in a sea of strangers, losing yourself in their embrace. Your thoughts wandered, wondering what would happen if things continued the way they were.

There was no denying the tension between you, a sexual energy simmering beneath the surface that seemed impossible to ignore. As you glanced up from your train of thought, your eyes caught sight of Yunho with wide eyes before giving you a nod to continue with whatever you were doing. A smile spread across your face as you returned your focus to the men pressed against you. This was the kind of intimacy you craved, the feeling of being totally connected to another person, just like Wooyoung had said.

Your heart sped up as San nuzzled into your neck, inhaling deeply as his warm lips lingered briefly before pressing into your skin again. His hips rocked slowly against yours, gradually increasing the pressure as the music played on. Your breathing became labored, the sound of your heavy exhales filling the air. A sense of desperation fills your mind, driving you to find release. It was only then that you realized that neither man had taken their hands off you since you'd joined them on the dance floor. Suddenly, you found yourself needing their touch more than ever, wanting desperately to feel them hold you, to experience their bodies rocking against yours once more. You ran your tongue along the edge of your bottom lip, trying to control your racing pulse. You wondered idly what the two of them must think of you right now. Did they feel the same way you did? Did they desire you the way you desired them?

You closed your eyes and breathed in the musky scent of their bodies, enjoying the feeling of their hot breath warming your neck. In an instant, a thought came rushing back to you: If you were to act upon your desires, would it ruin the friendship between you? Would they lose respect for you or reject you in favor of the other? You opened your eyes quickly, pushing aside those intrusive thoughts. They could do whatever they wanted after this night. Right now, you were determined to enjoy the ride and stop caring about the consequences. Besides, there wasn't any turning back now. With their heads buried in your neck, the two men were oblivious to your internal conflict. Wooyoung tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he groaned softly, pressing his pelvis into yours. San wrapped his arms around you, leaning forward to kiss your temple as he lightly bit your earlobe. A familiar warmth grew in your lower stomach, spreading outward until you could barely contain your lustful desire.

Every fiber of your being ached for them, calling out to them, begging them to claim you. Every cell in your body yearned for them, longing for them to fill your soul with complete satisfaction. You couldn't deny it anymore. You wanted them. And you weren't going to let either of them get away.

When San broke away from your neck, you felt his lips press against the crook of your jaw, his body now flush against yours as he pushed you backward. You shivered under his heated stare, remembering how beautifully intimate his lips had been against your own.

"I want you," he whispered hoarsely.

The words sent a rush of heat coursing through your body, causing your nipples to harden painfully. You looked up at him through hooded lids, biting your lip anxiously as he gently lifted your chin.

"I want you too." Wooyoung echoed his confession in a husky voice, nipping at your bottom lip as he captured your gaze.

You responded immediately, slipping your hands into their pockets, closing your eyes and reaching out for them. You gripped their clothes, silently pleading with them to take you home, to give you what you wanted. You weren't sure how much longer you could wait. 

"Take me home. Please." You pleaded quietly.

As if reading your mind, Wooyoung released you, taking one of your hands. San took your other hand, and you felt their fingers interlock as you followed them toward the exit of the club. As soon as they reached their car, they pulled you against them, kissing you deeply as they led you to the passenger seat. Unable to resist, you fisted both of their shirts, burying your face into their chests, soaking in the soft, masculine scent of their colognes.

"Baby, let's wait until we get home," Wooyoung suggested, drawing away to give you a wicked grin.

"I don't know if I can wait that long..." You mumbled in reply, your voice muffled by his shirt.

"Yes, you can." San teased, rubbing your thigh suggestively as he slid into the driver's seat.

"Maybe we should stay here and fuck in the backseat instead?" You moaned seductively.

"Oh, baby...you're so bad." Wooyoung replied playfully. "But there's not enough room in the car."

"I'd rather have you writhing beneath us in bed, moaning my name while I fuck you senseless," San said, placing a hand on your leg. "That's what I really want."

It took but minutes to get to your apartment, closing the door behind them with a resounding thud. You led both men towards your bedroom, feeling each one's eyes on your body as you unbuttoned your black mini dress. Taking their hands, you guided them to sit on the edge of your bed, letting your dress fall to the ground, revealing your black lace bra and matching panties.

"Like what you see?" You asked huskily, licking your lips.

"Fuck, yes." San breathed.

Wooyoung nodded eagerly. "I think I died and went to heaven."

"I can't be the only one with no clothes." You pouted as you stood in front of them, looking sexier than you had ever felt before. You unclasped your bra, tossing it aside as the two men admired your naked chest. You hooked your fingers in the sides of your panties, dropping them to the floor without removing your gaze from theirs. "What are you waiting for?"

"Shit, Baby...you're killin' me here," Wooyoung moaned, getting undressed as fast as he possibly could. "San, you don't mind if I go first, right?"

"Of course not," San answered easily, tugging his shirt off. "I'll take my time with her later."

"Thank you." Wooyoung breathed.

San moved from the bed to sit in the chair next to your dresser. He watched as Wooyoung pulled you against him, running his hands over your exposed body, marveling at the feel of your silken skin. Slowly, he inched his mouth upward, tracing light kisses over your breasts before moving downward, stopping to nibble on your nipple. His tongue circled your hardened bud, eliciting a loud moan from you as he toyed with it gently, flicking his tongue over its tip every so often. You gasped and bucked against him as he continued, watching with heavy-lidded eyes as he swirled his tongue around the underside of your breast, teasing you mercilessly.

"Jesus, Wooyoung, I'm gonna die if you keep this up." You whimpered.

"Just trying to give San a good show, baby." Wooyoung explained, laughing.

You let out a moan as he shifted his lips to your other breast, sucking hungrily on it. Each time he bit down on it, you could feel a jolt of pleasure shoot straight to your core. You clutched his head tightly in your hands, not wanting to let him go. "Please, Wooyoung..." You begged.

His answer was slow and firm, biting down harder on your nipple as his hand kneaded the other breast.

"Tell us how you're feeling, kitten." You heard San asked from his seat.

"Good. Very good." You sighed, your body beginning to tremble with anticipation.

Wooyoung gave you a quick peck on the lips before his attention returned to your throbbing nipples. Moving his lips slowly downwards, he grazed his teeth lightly against your skin, making you squirm. One hand left your breast to stroke your stomach, lingering momentarily on your navel before returning to tease your nipples some more. His thumb found your clit and began circling it delicately, coaxing a small moan from you as he leaned back slightly. "Do you like it when I bite down?" He murmured.

"Yes, please, oh god...yes." You moaned. Wooyoung lifted you up and positioned you on the bed to lie down, your head near the foot of your mattress. When he bent over to kiss you again, you arched your back and moaned loudly as he thrust his tongue inside your mouth. He grinned impishly as he ran his fingers down your torso, tracing gentle circles over your stomach, gently stroking the insides of your thighs. He stopped when he reached your sensitive spot, giving you a few gentle taps before moving up your body again. Once more, he found your clit, slipping a finger inside you as he sucked your nipple into his mouth. "Does that feel good?" He whispered in your ear.

"Y-yes!" You stuttered. The sensations he was creating within you were becoming almost unbearable. You gripped the sheets and turned your head to look at San who was currently cupping his hard on. "You want me to suck on it?" You asked breathlessly.

"Not yet, kitten." San moaned when he heard you speak. "Let Wooyoung make you feel good first."

A low chuckle escaped Wooyoung's lips as your nipple slipped free from his mouth. His lips trailed down your body, kissing every inch of your skin along the way. You writhed underneath him, desperate to feel him touch you. As he reached your center, you whimpered, unable to form coherent words. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and smoldering. "Say something, baby."

"Please, Wooyoung..." You managed to choke out. "Eat me. Fuck me with your mouth."

"Anything you say, baby." Wooyoung replied sweetly. He smiled slyly, his hand caressing your inner thigh as he looked up at you again. "How does our little Y/N taste? Like strawberries or raspberries? Or do you taste a little different from those fruits?"

"Why don't you find out? Use your tongue and discover." You purred, pushing yourself against his hand.

With that, he leaned in and placed the tip of his tongue on your clit, slowly trailing it upwards to swirl around your opening. Your body jerked and trembled uncontrollably as he flicked his tongue back and forth across your pussy, sending shockwaves of pleasure all throughout your body. Your breathing became rapid and shallow as he kept doing it, gradually increasing the speed and pressure of his movements. With each passing second, your hips started thrusting involuntarily. You moaned loudly, your head falling backwards as you surrendered to the sensation that was coursing through your body. Finally, he let his tongue slip inside you, swirling quickly around your inner walls, twirling around your sensitive clit.

"Wooyoung...god, it feels so good." You panted breathlessly, gripping the sheets.

"Fuck, you taste amazing," he moans, before sucking your clit into his mouth. His tongue flicks and circles, driving you wild. You thread your fingers through his dark hair, holding him to you as you buck your hips.

San kneels beside you, his hands roaming over your body as he kisses a path along your collarbone. "You like that, kitten? Want more?" he teases, his breath warm against your ear.

You can only nod, overcome with pleasure as Wooyoung continues to devour you. You feel San's hand slide between your bodies, his fingers joining his tongue. He thrusts them inside you, curling them to find that sweet spot that has you crying out.

"That's it, beautiful," Wooyoung encourages, looking up at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. "Come all over my face. I want to taste you."

His words send you over the edge, your back arching as you cry out in ecstasy. Wooyoung laps at your juices, groaning in appreciation as you came. You're sensitive and breathless, but the feeling of satisfaction is immense.

San then moves to position you on the bed. "Now it's my turn to taste you," he says, his voice husky. "Get on your knees, Y/N."

You do as he says, feeling deliciously naughty as you present yourself to him. He runs his hands over your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh before giving each cheek a sharp smack that makes you moan.

"Such a beautiful sight," he groans, his fingers tracing the outlines of your pussy lips. "So fucking wet for me already."

He dives in, his tongue teasing your entrance before sliding inside, mimicking the thrust of a cock. You moan, resting your forehead on Wooyoung's legs as you ride his face, grinding against him until you come once more. Wooyoung bites his lips as he watches San eating you out, his cock getting hard.

You whimper at the sight of Wooyoung's thick cock, your mouth watering. You lean forward, capturing the head with your lips, swirling your tongue around the smooth, purple tip. Wooyoung groans, threading his fingers through your hair as you suck him deeper into your mouth, bobbing your head in a steady rhythm.

"You look so fucking hot like this, taking Wooyoung's cock so deep," San muttered against your pussy. "Is this what you want, Y/N? To have Wooyoung fuck your pretty mouth while I eat you out?"

"Yes! Please...more," you cried out.

San paused for a moment before answering, "Good girl." Then, without warning, he plunged his tongue inside you, grazing your g-spot.

"Oh god...please...fuck...don't stop." You beg, clawing at Wooyoung's leg as you're rocked by the force of his assault on your sensitive areas.

"Come on, don't forget me." Wooyoung slapped his cock against your cheek. "Show me how much you love my cock."

You opened your mouth wide, taking him inside, sucking and stroking him expertly. Wooyoung watched as you pleased him, letting his hands wander down to your breasts where he squeezed and fondled them roughly. You're happy to oblige, pulling him deeper inside you as you suck harder. You reach between your legs, stroking your clit, San still eating you out as Wooyoung moans in response. Your orgasm is fast approaching, building up behind your closed eyelids.

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming..." Wooyoung grunted, closing his eyes. "Ah, baby, swallow my load. Take it all down."

As soon as he said those words, you came at the same time as Wooyoung let out his load in your mouth, your juices coating San's lips. You gasped, catching your breath as your body came down from its high. "Holy shit," you managed to mutter, pushing away from San but he held tight to your hips.

"I want to feel your pussy around my cock now." San muttered. You feel the head of his dick at your entrance, and you push back eagerly. San grabs your hips, pulling you onto him as he sinks deep with a single thrust. You cry out, loving the feeling of finally being filled by him.

He starts to move, his hips snapping as he pounds into you. Wooyoung reaches around, squeezing your breast as he rolls your hard nipple between his fingers. You're overwhelmed with sensation, pleasure coiling tight in your core again.

"Fuck, you're so tight," San grunts, his hands bruising your hips as he holds you in place. "Take it, baby. Take my cock."

You cry out with each thrust, begging for more. Wooyoung moves one of your hands down to your clit, guiding you as you circle your bud. The combination of their touch and your fingers sends you spiraling towards the edge once more. "More, San...more..." You plead, barely able to form a sentence.

San answers with another deep thrust, pushing you closer to climax. Your mind explodes with pleasure, colors mixing together until you see nothing but white light. A blissful wave hits you, sending your whole body into spasms.

"I'm gonna cum!" you cry, your walls clenching around San's shaft.

"Cum for me, baby," he encourages, his voice strained. "Milk my cock, take what you need."

You explode around him, your juices flowing as your body shakes with the force of your orgasm. San groans, still thrusting as he chases his own release. "Fuck, I'm close. Gonna fill that tight pussy, flood it with my cum."

His words send you over again, your sensitive walls milking him for all he's worth. San slams into you a few more times before he stiffens, roaring out his release. You feel his hot seed spilling inside you, his cock twitching with each pulse.

He pulls out slowly, and you turn to face him, kissing him deeply as you taste yourself on his lips. Wooyoung joins the kiss, both trying to claim your mouth.

"That was incredible, but I want more," Wooyoung whispers, his eyes dark with desire. "I want to feel that tight grip around my cock now."

San helps you straddle Wooyoun'g lap, guiding his friend's erect length to your entrance. You sink down slowly, taking him inch by inch until you're fully seated.

Wooyoung groans, his hands gripping your hips as he starts to move. "So fucking tight. It's unbelievable," he pants, his eyes rolling back as he enjoys the sensation.

You rise and fall, bouncing on his lap as San kneels before you, sucking your sensitive nipples into his mouth and swirling his tongue over the bud. You moan, grinding your hips as you chase another climax.

"That's it, beautiful," San encourages. "Ride his cock, take your pleasure."

You lean back, bracing your hands on Wooyoung's thighs as you change the angle and find that sweet spot deep within. His eyes widen, and he bucks his hips wildly. "Fuck, I'm close! Keep going, baby!"

You ride him harder, your walls contracting around him as another orgasm builds. "Cum with me," you pant, feeling yourself spiraling upwards.

Wooyoung grips your hips tightly, his body tensing as he follows you over the edge. "Fuck, I'm cumming!" he yells, his cock throbbing as he spills his release inside you.

You collapse forward, Wooyoung's arms wrapping around your shoulders as he kisses your neck tenderly. You feel blissed out and sated, but the night is far from over. These two gorgeous men are yours to enjoy, and you plan on savoring every moment.

The evening unfolds in a blur of passionate sex, dirty talk, and shared pleasure. You lose count of how many times you climax, each orgasm more intense than the last. San and Wooyoung are generous lovers, ensuring you're satisfied before taking their own pleasure.

As the night stretches on, you find yourself sandwiched between their muscular bodies, their cocks nestled against your skin. You feel protected and adored, surrounded by their heat and the scent of sex.

Wooyoung's fingers trace lazy patterns on your bare skin, his breath evening out as he dozes. San presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, his arms tight around you.

You smile, content and fulfilled in a way you've never experienced before. This is what you've wanted, what you've fantasized about, and it's exceeded all your expectations.

As you drift off to sleep, you know tonight is just the beginning.

[pandorasfavorite]

Kinky smut after reader acts like a brat on RAW

Influenced

AN: NOT ME WRITING REQUESTS FROM MONTHS AGO LMAO. Sorry lovelies.....

AN: I'll probably finish this...but I had to post something yo

Dominik wasn't a demanding boyfriend by any means, honestly, he was really kind and patient. He never asked much of you, so when he did you complied. You originally didn't have the desire to test Dominik's dominance ever, because he's already so good to you there's no need for him to prove anything. However, after falling into a rabbit hole on social media, you were influenced. There were hundred of posts and stories of women being "bratty" toward their sweet boyfriends. Each story ended well...

You were dressed up and ready to go interrupt the beginning of Monday Night Raw. Dominik was wearing his black gear (that drove you wild) and a shirt draped in front of his pants. From the moment you walked in the dressing room Dominik's expression lit up. His arms fell open and he completely neglected the conversation he was in before. You approach him and give him a quick hug and a peck on the lips. You are an inch apart from him, smiling up at him and grabbing his hands in yours. "Hey babe, you ready?", he looks over your outfit (his tongue slides over his lips quickly). You bat your eyelashes at him and hum as an answer.

You drop one of Dominik's hands and your eyes focus on the shirt that is hanging in front of his pants. It annoyed you a bit how he covered up the thing you liked looking at... you smack the shirt and it flies up. "Why are you wearing this?", you question him in a displeased voice. Dominik notices the attitude in your voice and you smacking the shirt was out of the blue -- even for you. Dominik furrows his eyebrows a bit at the behavior but lets it go un-noticed. He simply just grabs your hand in his and brings it to his mouth to kiss.

You pull the same hand out of his grasps again and you smack the shirt again, scowling at the useless thing. Being a brat was fairly easy when you had something to not like. This time though Dominik wasn't as happy, his face pulls into the sexy angry frown that shows so often on TV. He taps your cheek with his finger in order for you to look up at him, "Stop that".

"Stop what?", you smack his shirt one more time, just cause. Dominik grabs your wrist lightly, pulling it away from the shirt. "You know what cut it out. I'm serious". You stop, for now, the best way to work his nerves is to continuously stay on top of this. To calm him down you lift up to kiss his lips, and his body relaxes instantly. His hand finds its way to the back of your head pulling you in for a deeper kiss that makes your stomach do flips. He pulls back with his boyish grin and holds your hand as he walks out the door with you.

-------------------------------------------------------------

It's important to note that Dominik (while he is very patient), he is a very jealous man. All his patience flies out of the window when the jealousy filters in. In fact, his jealousy is so bad some nights after Raw he has to push you up against the wall and shove his fingers inside of you just to hear you moan his name. You were going to take advantage of that weakness to get what you want, after all it's the easiest way.

All 5 of you step out into the darkness with your heads down, then the lights turn on. Every night you fight the urge to squint your eyes from the blinding light. Dominik's arm is around your waist and he takes you with him, every step of the way. It was a 3 v 3 match with the boys against another group of three. You and Rhea were positioned outside of the ring to make an appearance and distract the ref if it came down to that. As the match started so did your bratty behavior...

One of the opponents was looking at you from his spot on the outside of the ropes, you waved to him with a seductive smile. Dominik watched the interaction and his face was downcast in anger, so much so his knuckles were turning white from the grip he had on the ropes. His eyes followed you as you skipped around the ring, and interacted with fans in the front row. You were always the most friendly out of all the members of the group.

Again the same guy was watching you, sizing you up, and he went as far as motioning for you to come up to him. Dominik is radiating heat and he is scowling without the desire to hide it, Damian notices the interaction and he instantly taps him in. Dominik walks around the ring and points to the guy that you were 'flirting' with. The rest was history. Dominik starts with the guy not letting up on any of his hits. You could tell even after the match was won and finished Dominik was righteously heated. He met you in the middle of the walk way and instantly thrown his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side so he could kiss your head while he was looking back at that stupid guy.

Though he may not seem all that mad to the blind eye, Dominik's clenched jaw and screwed-up face say otherwise. After a short goodbye the Judgement Day dispersed in different directions, leading to Dominik steering you into the Judgement Day dressing room that you know so well. He opens the door for you and then shuts and locks it behind him rather loudly. He runs a hand down his face before taking a step closer to you. Your chests are on the verge of touching and Dominik's hands are twitching as if he's itching to take action. But he'd never do anything without having a conversation first.

"What was that out there?", he takes a heavy breath trying to speak calmly towards you. "What do you mean?", you bat your eyelashes and feign innocence. Dominik's head tilts back and he chuckles at the blatant disregard for the obvious, "You know what you were doing out there, don't pretend you don't". His chest is puffed up and he's looking at you with such displeasure but his eyes say something different. His gaze is intense and makes your legs feel wobbly. Honestly, it's making you a bit nervous and it's intimidating in a way you didn't mind embracing, "I don't know what you're talking about" you squeak out.

Dominik acts fast; pulling right up against him by the belt loops. His lips are hovering just over yours and you can feel his deep breathing of frustration fanning across your cheeks. "Say it", he said in a deep raspy command, the words sent a shock down to your core. Your heart is racing out of your chest and if it wasn't for the desire you were feeling in that moment, Dominik would have to scoop you up off the floor. You raise your chin up in defiance at him, crossing your arms over your chest, "Make me".

Dominik's hands fly to your waist and he spins you around, pushing your body with the back of his to move you forward. He walks you over to the back of the couch and bends you over it by the waist. His hands then brush your hair to one side of your face, now he has a perfect view of your star-struck expression that he yearned for. Dominik leans in close to you, his teeth now poking out as he grins, "You've been a brat all fucking day", he recalls. He pulls your pants down to your mid-thighs, just enough for him to spread your legs a bit and slip two fingers inside of you.

The moment he pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them inside of you every time your breathing picks up, you feel your legs shake. His fingers are soaking wet and knuckle deep inside of you, and the tent in his pants only gets more defined when he hears the squelch your pussy makes. Your wetness was beginning to drip down the side of your thighs and Dominik mentally had to block out the idea of getting on his knees and licking it up, so nothing goes to waste. You hum in delight at the increasing feeling that you loved approaching, Dominik noticed your tell tales and refused to hide the fact that he knew.

"You really think you're going to get to cum? After acting like a brat all day? Just because you wanted to be my cock slut". You gasped at the filthy words flying so carelessly from his mouth, but also from the way he spits directly on your cunt after pulling his fingers away. You try to reply but your words come up short as you feel his large hands sliding down the back of your thighs. His skilled hands pull your thighs apart even further so he can have room to bring his face directly against your pussy. The feeling of his nose bumping against your clit and his smile that you so clearly can point out has you moaning out to him, "Baby please- m'sorry". You gave in, being a brat was hard when your man knew how to please so well.

You feel the way he laughed and shook his head in disbelief, he completely ignores you and swipes his tongue through your puffy folds. His tongue thrusts inside of you, working out the tension of you clenching around him.

AN: when my writing is shit but I have to provide like a good mother..

[ashdreams2023]

Hello :) Can I please request something fluffy, Loki x reader where Loki is taking care of pregnant reader and her morning sickness:) thx 🫶🏻

Coming right up!

Loki x pregnant reader

Coco bean

You’ve heard a lot of stories from pregnant women on how it can be tiring when your belly would grow to the size where your sweatpants would cover it but experiencing it firsthand was something else.

"Here you go dove, they will make your feet warm" Loki kneeled down and placed your favorite fluffy socks on your swollen feet, it was winter and you couldn’t bend down to put them on yourself.

"Thank you, can you help me get up?" You reached your arms up to him.

"Of course" he pulled you gently by the hands until you stood straight on your feet then kissed your forehead "My dove looks so cute in white"

"I look like a pregnant guinea pig"

"My Guinea pig" you groaned at his comment and tried pushing him away but ended up doing zero damage and being called cute again.

The both of you saw in the living room, he had your plate ready on the small table in front of the tv with his own plate in hand, he sat close to you and watched the series you two have been binge watching together.

You didn’t touch your food though, the morning sickness was making you feel weak every passing day, it was like you couldn’t keep anything down for more than an hour.

And the cravings were not helping at all.

"Come on dove, you need something to eat, I made you an omelette, I threw in some sausage in there too"

"I don’t feel like eating yet, maybe later….can I have some chocolate milk?" One of the many craves you’ve been having lately.

"At this rate you’ll give birth to a coco bean"

"Loki!" You whined.

"Ok ok princess, but you’re gonna eat this later"

"Thank you my love" you fluttered your eyelashes playfully at him.

Loki sighed, the things he does for love.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with you two cuddling and him rubbing his hand over your pregnant belly and making promises with the baby as if it can talk back.

"What if he call it coco?"

"Loki don’t start"

"Come on! It would match perfectly!"

"I don’t know maybe frosty will suit better" you arched a brow at him, knowing exactly what you’re doing. He huffed dramatically and laid his head on your shoulder.

"How did I marry you again?"

"You couldn’t resist my charms remember?" You chuckled.

He snuggled in the crack of your neck then kissed it, you could make out his smile against your skin.

[luveline]

for the steve zombie au requests 🙏🏼 how about the first night when they finally get their own place at the college? ily

thanks so much for your request! steve zombie!au | fem!reader ♥︎ 1.1k

"My arms are crying," you say. 

"Keep moving," Steve demands. "It's only another minute." 

"I'm spoiled, Steve, you know this." 

Steve is doing most of the work, dragging your double mattress through the series of doors that lead from the first wing of Little Hawkins to the second, where you and Steve have finally been given a room after sharing with Robin for two weeks and three days. You regret your happiness — Robin has proved to be exactly the kind of person worth walking the earth for. She's funny and zesty and a secret sweetheart. She's a lot like Steve, minus his moods. 

Steve trusts her implicitly. You do not. You haven't slept properly in the days you've shared a room with her, and everyone can tell. It's why Steve isn't actually mad at your half-hearted pushing. 

When your new front door is in view you stop pushing. Steve sighs and heaves it to the door jam. He turns to look at you as he finishes, wiping his hands together. You give the mattress a weak kick. 

Steve, despite the image he projects, feels very sorry for you in that moment. You can see it in the soft wrinkle between his thick brows, and the immediacy with which he extends his hands. 

"Celebratory hug," he says, kissing your temple quickly as he pats your back. 

His hugs are two extremes. Swift and friendly or languid and long. This hug is the former, and you'd wanted the latter. 

"Where's the key?" 

You dig in your pocket for the key. There's a piece of white tape wrapped around the head with the apartment number and a sticker on the teeth, where you assume Jeremy, the communities co-leader, to have written your name in marker. 

"See this?" you ask, brandishing the sticker at him with a peppy smile. "Know what that means? This is my room, Harrington. You're just sharing." 

"Yeah?" 

You don't like the sound of that. 

He takes a step toward you as you take a retroactive one back, and your foot scags on the curved corner of the mattress. Steve throws his hand out to make sure you don't fall, and you grab his arm in turn, key digging into his forearm. 

"For me? You shouldn't have," he says, pleased. 

You roll your eyes and fork over the key. Steve opens the door, and everything feels much less scary, because he waits for you to take his hand before he walks inside. It's a very small room, meant for one person, and the bed frame is a single — your mattress won't fit. 

"Oh," you say with a laugh. 

"Don't worry, I asked Hopper about it, he said there's some crates behind the town hall." 

"The town hall," you say. He's already using all the terminology, like he's been here for months. 

"We can clear out the frame." He rubs the back of your hand with his thumb unconsciously. "We'll keep the desk though?" 

"For what?" 

"For stuff. We can have stuff. Books and clothes and stuff." 

"Stuff." 

He steps in front of you and turns, forcing you to meet his eyes. He watches you watch him, and he rubs under your eyelashes with a careful fingertip. 

"Sit down, baby." 

You feel strangely like crying. The soft but ordinate tone he uses with you in moments like this is shocking, the memory of his recent I love you thrumming at the front of your head. He loves you. You can feel it. 

You sit down in a puddle of dust on top of the desk. It holds your weight no problem, only creaking quietly when you start to slouch in on yourself, cheek pressed to the side of one of the storage cupboards above it. It's cold, and it smells like a holiday home, or a hotel. 

Steve lifts the bed frame all by himself, the muscles of his back bulging and shifting underneath his shirt. He peels it off and you rouse from your dozing to whistle, delighted by his scandalised face and the follow up smirk. He flexes his bicep and you laugh softly. 

"Oh wow," you drawl, meaning it one hundred percent. 

"Right?" 

"Very impressive, Stevie. You've always been a loveboat, you know?" 

"Tell me more." 

He pushes the bed frame out into the hallway. You wait for him to appear again, though the mattress comes first, Steve pushing it inside your room like it doesn't weigh a thing. It is, admittedly, very hot. 

"Even when we didn't like each other, I thought you were handsome. Hot," you admit. 

He pushes the mattress down. It lands with a puff of dust so thick you both wince and lean back. The dust settles, and Steve sidles into the space between your legs, shirtless and a little bit sweaty, a smile on his pretty mouth. 

"I've always thought you were pretty, but not so much anymore." You flinch as a pit opens in your stomach, alarmed and hurt that he would say that you. Steve takes your face into his hand, and he tilts his head to the side and says, "These days I think you're beautiful. Capital B." 

"Smaller pause next time." 

The tips of your noses kiss. He doesn't close his eyes, so you keep yours open. 

"You get prettier every day. I feel real lucky that I get to see it." His smile turns bashful, the facade of his confidence fading away. "I can't believe we're here, and I know everything is different, and that it's been hard. I'm sorry." 

"Don't be sorry," you say, eyebrows pinching together.

"I want you to be happy," he says. 

You pull his face closer to yours, impossibly closer, not an inch of room between you. "I am." 

"I want you to sleep," he says knowingly. 

You grin, and kiss him blindly, missing his lips a little. He's gracious enough to correct you, and to return it with an adoring ferocity. 

You push him away so he can see your smile. 

"I'll sleep just as soon as my boyfriend makes the bed." 

Steve looks electrified with purpose. "I'm gonna make our bed so well," he promises. "Gonna make that shit into a sport. If they ever throw an Olympics again, they'll add a bed making category, and I'll win the gold for you, babe." 

Our bed. Despite your worries, your impulsive fears, and your propensity for suspicion, you have to admit it: 'our bed' sounds pretty damn good. 

[loz-furbies]

Breath of the Wild / Age of Calamity / Tears of the Kingdom Zelda, part 1/2

The final Zelda (so far) of this character review series is the most developed of them all, and probably has more character content to her in just one game than any of the others, and she has three to boot! With full voice acting (I'm JP voice only), a huge and personal role in the story, diary entries, notable relationships to multiple characters and being discussed by many NPCs there is a lot to talk about, but I'm mostly going off of memory and rewatching the cutscenes since it would be too much work to research every mention of her in all three games.

Design

(Ancient dress Zelda model from here)

Not going to copypaste my thoughts on her BotW look since this is long enough already.

It is a pity that Zelda didn't get a full redesign for TotK, but I'll take what I can get. The bob is really cute! And unusual among the Zeldas too, and I guess a nice way to represent that she has moved to the commoner lifestyle.

As for the ancient dress, it looks perfectly fine on its own, but since I value it when the designs have their own unique identity, I wish it wasn't so similar to her white dress from BotW. Maybe there is some connection, like Sonia used to be a priest so maybe the dress design survived through millennia as a prayer dress or whatever, but since that's not actually in the game, I'm not giving credit for that.

The bulkier and sort of unrefined jewelry does a good job making the outfit look ancient, but it's still fancy enough that I can believe it to belong to the royal family. That decorative accessory on the front of the dress is really cool looking and a nice and consistent detail among all the ancient clothes, but man is it a pain to draw. Finally I really like the big earrings and the tear makeup is a great little detail.

When I first saw the Light dragon in the final Zelda memory I thought it looked kind of doofy, with its bright colours, clumpy eyelashes, bulging eyes and borzoi nose, but it has since grown on me. I once read that some Pokemon designer said in an interview or such that if a Pokemon design looks too cool, they add something uncool to it to make it more memorable, and I think it's a pretty good design philosophy. There have been several LoZ designs that have shocked me at first, but eventually I get used to them and they will look just right. They could have given the dragons a more cool or elegant look, but that would have also risked making them more generic. Also the eyes give a good impression about Zelda's state that nobody is home there.

Character

This iteration of Zelda is easily the most fleshed out of them all, since we get to see so much of her relationships, character development, emotional reactions to plot events, and also stuff she does outside the immediate plot.

BotW Zelda's dread over the impending doom and the self esteem issues that rise from it are a large part of the story. There are other Zeldas who also worry about the Plot, but in BotW Zelda's case it's incredibly personal since her failure to do her crucial job in preventing the disaster is at the core of the story. According to Rhoam's diary, she had already internalised her duty at the age of six (and this caused her to not show any weakness even at her mother's funeral), and from there she spent her life trying and failing to awaken her powers. This lifelong crushing sense of responsibility and guilt and the failure to live up to her demanding father's expectations give BotW Zelda a very melancholic vibe that constantly pops up through the game. Though I must say that in the memory where the champions perform their little ceremony and Zelda gives a long speech to Link, her voice acting gets really awkward when it sounds like she's about to start crying with every word.

Once she finds her inner strength, Zelda gets her badass moments as well. I especially like the grand finale of BotW where she, glowing with power, calmly stands before Calamity Ganon's pig form and doesn't even flinch when he charges at her. And in the TotK flashback cutscenes she can apparently be taken to a battle against Ganondorf as a part of Rauru's sage posse.

I called out Skyward Sword Zelda for being a bit too much of an ideal girlfriend, so I'm really glad that the memory where BotW Zelda lashes out at Link exists. It works to prevent her from being just a pure maiden who is victimised by unfair outside circumstances. Or I mean that does happen to her, but letting her display some negative traits (like frustration and jealousy) that she's personally responsible for as well makes her feel more like an actual person and not just a perfect victim.

Even if BotW Zelda's heavy burden is a huge part of her character, luckily that's not all there is to her. And not just because being multifaceted of course makes her more interesting, but also I find it a lot more realistic that not every moment of her life had been constant suffering.

One of her most charming and notable traits is her nerdy scientist side. It certainly sets her apart from the other Zeldas, and also gives her something else to do than just worry about the plot and be a princess. The memory where she geeks over a frog and goes on such a ramble over its scientific properties that she forgets basic social norms is such a great piece of characterisation, and it's cute how her enthusiasm returns in TotK where she's excited over Zonai discoveries, and is also into Mineru's constructs. According to AoC, studying was also apparently something she did with her late mother as a child.

Her research notes also detail how together with Purah and Robbie they discovered various things about the ancient Sheikah tech, but I do think it's a little disappointing how we don't get much anything concrete about Zelda's contributions specifically. There's a lot about her being interested in the Sheikah technology and how she apparently was a part of research group, but all actual discoveries are attributed to different characters or left vague, so as a result she comes across more like an enthusiastic hobbyist who in the end doesn't actually get anywhere. I would have liked it if for example Purah's diary had a line of how Zelda's efforts helped them understand the Guardians better or something like that, but now you have to imagine her contributions yourself. The closest we get is how in AoC she gives one Sheikah artefact to Rhoam, which ends up saving his life, but it's not quite what I'm looking for since Zelda didn't know what the item would do, so it feels more like luck. But even if the execution didn't quite land, I'm glad that AoC took the time to give some kind of resolution to the Rhoam-forbids-Zelda-from-Studying aspect and has to admit that he was wrong. And regardless the Sheikah tech works well to give Zelda her unique identity, and it's also nice how two of her weapons in AoC are based on it.

BotW Zelda also has a playful side, like for example she runs up to play with a dog she just saw, or jokes with Urbosa about how they both had to act all formal in front of an audience despite being long time friends. She is also a very proactive character; thanks to the "find the memories" gameplay, we see her travel all across Hyrule instead of just sitting at her castle, she's the one to handle all business with the Divine Beast pilots (and since they're all high ranking individuals among their people, this makes Zelda pretty politically active as well), and BotW ends with her wanting to work on rebuilding Hyrule.

Zelda being active continues in TotK, where there's a lot of little snippets how she has founded a school, installed memorial monuments, managed survey teams, worked on gardens, and so on. And of course she also immediately volunteered for investigating the Gloom situation at the start of TotK as well, and from the stone tablets we can read how she also got into fiddling with Constructs and fashion in the ancient Hyrule. Obviously it would have been nice to actually see all of this instead of just reading or hearing it second hand, but I understand that not everything can get a fancy cutscene, so it's at least nice that this was included in the game at least in some fashion.

I touched on it in the part about her nerdy side, but let's also bring specific attention to the fact that BotW Zelda also has a delightfully weird and chaotic side to her. She tries to feed a frog to Link, and the TotK stone tablets tell about how she would ride Mineru's construct despite the protests of the chamberlain. And while the recipe she cooks in AoC is a legit BotW recipe, the way the scene is depicted clearly makes her come across as eccentric in her cooking.

AoC also casts her in a leadership role once her powers finally awaken and she becomes more confident. Honestly I prefer the insecure nerd Zelda over the charismatic leader because I don't think she quite has enough credibility to pull off rousing speeches to masses at this point of the story, but I guess it does make sense for the kind of story they're telling

Her powers are pretty inconsistent between games, BotW is obviously all about awakening her sacred sealing power, and the game ends with her saying that she used all that up. And then TotK reveals she had two different powers all along; Sonia's time power comes out of nowhere and Rauru's light power overlaps with her BotW ability a lot. But I can live with a discrepancy like this since I like the story of TotK.

Since I brought up how it's nice that Skyward Sword is implied to have a knitting hobby, I suppose it should be mentioned that BotW Zelda made the Champion's blue clothes and accessories. Though here it feels a lot less important and even a bit tacked on, since BotW Zelda already has so much going on that is more important and meaningful to her character. But I guess crafting clothes is princessy enough of a subject that Rhoam approves of spending time on it instead of prayer practice and even brags about it. A different little detail that I like more than this clothing thing is that we get to learn Zelda's favourite food (fruitcake).

In Japanese Zelda uses polite language, but no honorifics. I'm no Japanese expert, but to me this comes across as keeping a polite distance from everyone, while also implying status ("I'm a princess so I don't need to use a honorific for you"). Also in the beginning of AoC, Link (who at this point is just a random knight to Zelda) kneels in front of her and she doesn't even acknowledge him, so it appears she's pretty used to her standing. The stone tablets in TotK also describe her having an undeniable air of nobility.

[darlingsfandom]

smut ddlg with cillian on christmas!!

bless you! Hope your Christmas was nice✨

"Well... that was....fun?" You half heartily laughed as Cillian passed you the final dirty plate so you could wash it off and load it into the dishwasher.

"It's Christmas baby, just another excuse for some of tem to drink ya know." He shrugged his shoulders before wiping off the counters to help you out. You playfully rolled your eyes at him before shutting the dishwasher with your hip and tossing the cloth over your shoulder before wrapping your arms around his waist and slowly walking over to the mistletoe hanging above the arch way of your kitchen.

Cillian smiled down at you while tucking some of your hair behind your ear. His lips attached to yours slowly before turning hungry . His hands cuffed your face while his tongue pushed past your sugar coated lips and down your throat. Your knees went weak. The scent of warm cinnamon , sugar cookies and whiskey mixed with his naturally musky scent made your head spin as his tongue pulled out and found the sweet spot below your ear.

"Cillian... daddy!" You corrected yourself so fast as your newly red nails that he paid for slipped down his button up. "Wait! You have one more present.." your words stumbled out as his hands gripped your waist and squeezed.

"Oh do I? What is it darlin ?" He looked down at you with icy blue eyes before you pulled away only to leave a warm kiss upon his cheek. "You get comfy on the couch and I'll be right back okay?" You yelled from down the hall.

Cillian sighed happily as he made contact with the leather couch in the living room that you had decorated so beautifully for the holidays. Silver and gold color palates is what you went with. Garland hanging from the fire place , the candle in the window sat on a gold candle holder, throw pillows with cheesy Christmas puns laid on the couch and love seat, a big plaid Christmas blanket covered the back of the couch and the smells in the house from the sugar cookies and dinner you worked on, it was everything he could ever ask for.

"Daddy! Are you ready?" Your voice echoed down the hall to interrupt his mostly pure thoughts.

"Am ready princess!" He called back rubbing his thighs through his black slacks.

"Close your eyes!" You giggled as the sound of your feet running against the wooden floors filled his ears.

"Okay darlin! Closed."

You appeared in front of Cillian with a soft smile on your lips.

"Open!"

Cillian opened his eyes and his jaw fell on the floor.

"Merry Christmas daddy!" You stood up straight in a very sexy Christmas outfit. It was an X rated Mrs. clause outfit minus the hat. You just placed a plastic bow instead. The white fur lined your cleavage perfectly. The red was made from velvet that lead to more white fur that didn't even reach mid thigh. Your stockings fit nice and snug on your calves as you walked up to Cillian and ran your fingers through his hair.

"Oh my... I must have been a real good boy tis year." You placed your hands on his shoulders before sitting down on his lap.

"I take it you like your present daddy?" Your little eyelashes fluttered at him while you slowly moved your hips against his.

"Best present ever princess!" He gave you a soft kiss before the hunger took over in him again. You kissed him back with just as much energy and neediness while rubbing your exposed cunt against his clothed dick.

"Need you! Need you so much daddy! Need you to fuck my pretty pussy!" With each word you were humping him harder. Cillian lifted you up and switched spots so your hips were hanging off the edge of the couch while he stood over you with the animalistic eyes and mouth hung open once he had your legs spread open and realized you had no panties.

"Yer spoilin me darlin!" You watched as Cillian got down on his knees in front of you and stared at your pussy like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, even though he's seen it so many times before.

His long fingers slid over your folds to gather your wetness and spread it around. A soft moan left your swollen lips as his fingers slowly twisted inside of you. "Oh daddy!" Your hips bucked forward before Cillian pressed down on them to hold you still while his fingers twisted in and out of you. His eyes stayed glued to yours watching how they switched from innocent to dirty. His mouth attached to your clit causing your fingers to grip onto his hair. Cillian moaned against your clit when you yanked his hair.

"So fucking pretty! Prettiest girl with the prettiest cunt!" The sound of him lapping his tongue along your folds back up to your clit before sucking on it with desire echoed throughout the living room. "And tis mine! All mine!" He mumbled into your pussy as you laid there pulling his hair, wrapping your legs around his head and pulling him in closer so you could feel him deeper inside of you.

Cillian looked up through his lashes as his hands wrapped around your thighs and held you close as he ate you out. Your eyes filled with tears as pleasure filled every ounce of your body.

"Oh my god daddy! Fuck me please! Fuck me with your fat cock! Please please please daddy!" You cried out and Cillian couldn't say no! Not when you were begging so well and being such a good girl for him.

"Good girl darlin! Usin yer big girl words." He pulled away slowly before giving your clit one last kiss before standing up to rid himself of his slacks. Once his pants and boxers were being flung across the room you looked down to see that his cock was painfully hard, leaking and dark red.

"It looks angry daddy! Probably because it's not in me!" You gave him the sweetest doe eyes possible as you held open your legs and cutest smile on your lips while your pussy drooled out arousel for him.

"Tats exactly it darlin!" Cillian spit on his hand before rubbing his cock for a minute and slowly sliding it inside of you with ease. Your mouth made the perfect O as you watched him slide it in.

"DADDY! You always feel so big inside of me!" Something took over Cillian and he didn't hold back. The way he leaned over top of you pushing every inch inside of you as your nose scrunched up, the way his forehead pressed into yours as he pulled your tits out of the lingerie , he was hot and heavy all over.

"Tats it baby, take me cock, good girl yes! Fuck!" His words were coming out with grunts that made you wetter by the second as he reached up, yanked your head down by your hair and made you watch as he fucked your harder. A bit of insecurity hit you when you seen your stomach folded which showed off a few rolls but that didn't stop Cillian ! It made him fuck you harder. Sweat dripped from his forehead against yours as you cried out his name.

"Fuck meee! Fuck yeah daddy!" You were clawing at his arms through his shirt as you felt the head of his cock hit your g-spot just right which made your eyes roll back into your head.

"My good girl! Fucking hell!" His thrusts were getting faster but more sloppy as he held you tight. Cillian made you look up at him as he yanked your head back by your hair and your eyes were filled with pleasure.

"Daddy! Stop! I have to pee!" You tried to push him off.

"That's fine darlin! Tis not what ya tink! Just relax and trust daddy yeah? Relax and let it go!" His thumb snaked its way down to your clit and he pushed hard against it before rubbing circles like a mad man. You didn't know what to think! Your body was agreeing to his touch and you felt your orgasm on the edge.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD!! OOOOH MY OOH GOD!" You cried out as you squirted against his cock. Cillian rubbed your clit through it as he looked at you with such pride. Your thighs felt extra sticky when your body collapsed against the couch.

"Good girl baby! Good girl! Now yer gonna take me cum!" His eyes rolled back as he pulled your limp body closer to his and grunted loudly before he squeezed your thighs as his own orgasm washed over him and filled you up to the fullest you could be.

"Merry Christmas daddy!" You panted softly as he slowly pulled out of you and scooped some of his cum up onto his fingers before slipping them into your eager little mouth.

"Best Christmas present every baby, tank you! Merry Christmas ." He watched as you cleaned his fingers before laying down next to you on the couch, wrapping his arm around you and giving you a warm kiss on the forehead.

[hibischush]

a shipment of flowers

description; Adeline is reminded of what happened between her and the farmer the previous day.

notes; I told y'all I'd be posting. Enjoy🌺💗

word count; 878

warnings; references to The Princess Bride; minor in-game spoilers (festival)

Her head is throbbing. 

Adeline sighs as she slams her fountain pen down on her file-covered desk. Normally, the leader-in-waiting enjoys the thoroughness of official papers. With the New Year’s Eve celebration coming up, she had been busy ordering supplies for the manor and planning for small activities for the townsfolk to partake in at the party. Recently, however, she’s found it hard to focus with her slothful mind always stumbling back to the farmer. 

The farmer, for whom all they do, still finds the time to sit down and have tea with her. The farmer, despite having an endless list of arduous tasks, of which require thousands of tesserae, seemingly set aside the budget to give Adeline peaches & cream once every week to “celebrate her many accomplishments.”

They will do almost everything that she asks of them. 

And every time, speaking quietly enough for only Adeline to hear, they whisper:

“As you wish.”

It’s that very phrase that makes her knees weak. 

Maybe it’s been a while since Adeline has thought of pursuing someone romantically-- she ascertains that she pushes away the feelings as she hasn’t yet known the farmer for a year, and she’s not even certain they return said feelings. However, with the gentle sprinkling of snow against the window of her office, it reminds her that a year is coming up. And it has become much, much harder to mask her feelings.

She begrudgingly recalls the previous day when the farmer made their usual rounds to the manor, stopping by her office with the sweetest grin gracing their features. The bite of winter frost made the tips of their nose and round of their cheeks a pleasant pink. Bundled up in winter attire, Adeline didn’t think it was possible to be more endearing, but her most trusted ally had a way of surprising her.

“Lady Adeline, I’ve completed your request for the shipments of Poinsettias,” They exclaimed, unwrapping their snow-flecked scarf to reveal their face, “you just give me the signal for when you want me to ‘deck the halls’ for the party, so to speak.”

Looking up from her mass of papers, she sighed dejectedly, “I told you to call me Adeline,” she shook her head with a gentle grin. “Thank you, though. I believe they will bring some much-needed color to the foyer and ballroom.”

Even if Adeline said nothing of importance of all, the farmer permanently held a sparkle in their eyes as she talked to them. Maybe her sleep deprivation was getting to her, though. Were those snowflakes on their eyelashes?

Perhaps she was staring too long in silence, because the farmer looked down bashfully. Her face heated. Did she make it awkward?

“It would be rude if I said otherwise, Lady Adeline,” and before the baroness could scoff and repeat her wishes more firmly, the farmer continued, “I also came to gift you this…”

The farmer shyly revealed a bouquet-- jasmine, crocus, snapdragon, and even a few twigs of plum blossom, all wonderfully arranged and wrapped in a pink paper and tied together with a white ribbon. 

Adeline could feel her breath get caught in her throat as her face refused to cool down. A bouquet? Flowers, specifically a few that the farmer knew she liked? For a moment, it felt like time stopped, with only her erratic heartbeat pounding in her ears. This was a romantic gesture, was it not? A few moments had passed, but it felt like an eternity. She needed to respond.

“I--I don’t even know what to say! But in a good way. Not in a bad way! It would never be in a bad way with you-- it’s always perfect. You’re just perfect--”

Oh my god. Bad. Bad response.

She mentally slapped her forehead. Did her years of speech lessons not teach her how to speak eloquently? She didn’t even know it was possible to blush more, she thought nervously, wringing her clammy hands together to compose herself.

The farmer’s face was red as well (from the cold or from second-hand embarrassment, she wasn’t sure), but they still had a comforting smile on their face.

She cleared her throat, gently taking the bouquet in an embarrassingly robotic manner. She brought them closer to her face (totally not to hide from shame, that would be undignified), the sweet fragrance wafting in the air. 

“Thank you. They are beautiful.”

Their smile softened more, their eyes pouring into Adeline’s. “Of course. I’m glad you like them,”

They kept their gaze on her for another moment, perhaps maybe a second longer than they should have. With one last tick from the clock on her wall, they turned to leave.

“Well, it’s always a pleasure, Lady Adeline.” She shivered, and clutched the bouquet tightly.

Adeline panicked. 

“Wait!”

They looked back with a curious tilt of the head.

“You will be attending the New Year's Eve party, won’t you?” She said quietly, with a desperate amount of hope, she might add.

They took a second to formulate a response, looking to the ground for an answer. With a breath, they set their gaze confidently back on her. “Do you wish me to attend?”

She swallowed thickly. 

“I expect you to attend, dear farmer.” They grinned, “As you wish.”

I started writing this a few months ago after watching the Princess Bride. I hope y'all like it, even if this one is a bit self-indulgent lol. I just got the time to play fom yesterday and I missed it sm. Over break, I should be posting more, so stay tuned!