#which was very soon after you sent it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

swordgrace · 8 months ago

Text

𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅𝐒𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃, 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃.

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

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

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anon.

{ WORD COUNT: 6.7K.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

5K notes · View notes

fanaroff · 9 months ago

Text

Dp x DC Prompt: Space Like An Ocean

An alien had taken up residence outside of the Watchtower. Its first appearance immediately started a panic with most of the heroes that could survive in space converging on the station to see whether it was friend or foe. In the end, it did not seem either.

In fact, it seemed fine with just basking and napping wrapped around parts of the Watchtower that made up the outside. It wasn’t the size of the Watchtower, but off and on it was a very near thing.

Humanoid, yet distinctly inhuman. White whispy hair sat atop its head, pointed ears, and the only feature that could be made out of its face were two bright green glowing eyes. A color that sent Batman into a research frenzy. Its skin was void-dark. Almost looking as if a piece of space itself had separated from the cosmos and took and almost snake-like form. Or maybe an eel?

The most notable thing about the creature were its injuries. Multiple lacerations covered it, leaking a green that never touched the Watchtower and seemed to evaporate not long after leaving its body. Any silent attempts to collect it for study and to figure out what it was were met with emotionless green eyes and a bare hint of fang. They backed off quickly.

Flash liked to call it a mer-eel. “Cause it’s got an almost human torso, two arms, and the rest just kind of curls up!”

Wonder Woman was unimpressed with this. “That would suggest it is more like a naga.”

To which Green Lantern replied, “No, no, he’s right. There’s an almost white fin-like bit that goes down the tail like an eel’s does.”

Any more attempts to identify the creature led to nothing and soon the “eel” became a silent fixture of the Watchtower.

It was ages later when Zatanna entered the Watchtower to discuss a completely non-connected case when she stumbled immediately upon leaving the Zeta Tube and had to lean against a wall, breathing heavily.

“Something feels like Death.” Was all she could get out before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she dropped to the ground. She wouldn’t wake up, dead asleep. Immediate worry all around lead to Justice League Dark being contacted in full.

Constantine with Deadman in tow were ultimately the ones to solve the mystery. It took but a moment for Deadman to be seen thanks to Constantine’s “magic” and awe was the first thing apparent on his face. Deadman didn’t even need to leave the Watchtower to know what it was.

“Oh,” he whispered like a prayer. “So that’s where he goes when he takes a break.”

Queue questioning.

“He” turned out to be Phantom, the Ghost King who had apparently decided the Watchtower was a perfect basking spot. Confusion was abound at this.

“No, see,” Deadman tried to explain. “He has two Obsessions and the Watchtower feeds into both. Heroes who protect, as he is a protector spirit himself and probably feels a kinship, and space.”

Constantine and Deadman explained as best as they could, but when the questions finally settled, the last was “Why isn’t Constantine affected like Zatanna? Why aren’t the rest of them affected like Zatanna?”

“That’s easy!” Deadman piped. “None of you are attuned to death magic! I’m a ghost, he’s my King. Zatanna is a magician with experience in most magics. And Constantine doesn’t own enough of his soul to feel the death!”

In the end, a request from Deadman was all it took for things to change. With barely a rumble, Phantom pulled himself from the Watchtower and drifted far enough away for his aura to no longer affect Zatanna. The heroes could only watch in awe as the eel-like god returned to the open ocean of space.

Addition:

There were a giant green eyes observing the conference room. Every hero inside was frozen in place, staring back at the eyes and trying their best not to move a muscle. Phantom had moved from atop the station. Phantom had acknowledged them. Phantom was staring at them from a window of the Watchtower.

No one knew why he was there. Just that suddenly he was. The bright green lighting the entire room with its shine was the only warning they got. They stared. He stared.

Slowly, he moved. A hand-shape pointed with a claw. They were confused. The hand made a pointing motion again.

The table?

Ah. Several shards of kryptonite sat on the table. The topic of the discussion as someone had somehow gotten ahold of the shards and used them against Superman. They needed to know who supplied them.

The hand pointed again.

Why did Phantom want the shards?

Apparently, it wasn’t up to them to question as the pointing hand phased into the room, palm up. Waiting. No one moved for a moment until a white narrowed slit formed in Phantom’s eyes.

Green Lantern was quick to grab the shards (Batman made a token protest, those were his damn it) and placed them in the palm. He shivered as his finger brushed the skin, ice cold washing up and down his spine.

The hand closed, retracted and approached the face. The eyes stared as a large mouth opened (fangs, sharp sharp fangs laid in green) and a tongue popped out. The shards were placed on the tongue and the mouth closed with a sharp crunch.

Phantom grinned almost smugly before he drifted away from the window and back to the top of the Watchtower.

“Did- Did Phantom just ask for a snack?”

#danny phantom #dp x dc #ghost king danny #danny phantom fic #fanfic #mer danny #eel danny #mer eel danny #kryptonite is catnip to ghosts #kryptonite ghost snack #I’m not good at titles

3K notes · View notes

sleepyjuice · 8 months ago

Text

toxic!rafe will blow your phone up the second you post something on instagram that he’s ‘iffy’ about.

you posted a photo dump which consisted of some random photos of the beach, some of your friends, one of you and rafe of course, but the one that had rafe seeing red was the last slide, which was you in a bikini. he texted you several times at first, and while you were literally typing your response, he called you. your fingers were typing so fast to respond to him that you accidentally declined the call, and he did not like that. you immediately went to call him back, but another text from rafe rolled in, saying ‘fuck you don’t talk to me we’re done’ you sighed loudly, knowing damn well he was talking out of his ass right now, so you sat back and waited for the inevitable next string of texts to roll in. which they did, only seconds later.

rafe <3: do you get off on making me mad or something

rafe <3: like i’m racking my brain trying to understand why you do the things you do and that’s all i can come up with

rafe <3: and i see at least 4 guys have already liked your post like that’s crazy to me?? thought i told you to block all the guys that followed you?? of course you didn’t

rafe <3: also who even took that pic of you??? bc i know damn well it wasn’t me so who the fuck you posing for with your fucking ass and tits out? WHAT THE FUCK

rafe <3: DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIT ON DO NOT DISTURB answer me rn.

rafe <3: nah it’s cool actually i’m gonna go hit up my other gfs so you have a good night.

you rolled your eyes at that last text, deciding to fully turn your phone off. you knew he would likely try to text or call you again very soon but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. this wasn’t your first rodeo, you knew nothing you could say to him right now would calm him down, so letting him freak out on his own was the best method to his madness.

three hours had passed since you turned your phone off. you had caught up on some reading and turned on your current favorite show, but found yourself interrupted by a knock at your front door. you expected it to be rafe, but instead it was a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag. you glanced around to see if rafe was lurking around, but saw nothing. when he freaked out over text and was able to reread his actions, he usually waited a bit longer to show his face as opposed to a verbal argument.

you brought the flowers inside and set them on the counter before grabbing the card attached to the side of the bouquet.

sorry we argued. you are so beautiful and i love you so much. got you a little gift and sent you some money for food and i set your appointment with your nail girl for tomorrow at 10. love you forever baby -rafe

you couldn’t help but smile just a little. the flowers were beautiful and the note was pretty sweet, so you chose to ignore the part where he said ‘we argued.’ you didn’t get a word in, but you let it slide. especially after you opened the gift bag to see the new dior bag you had been wanting.

you hurried to turn on your phone, immediately seeing a $500 apple payment from rafe as well as a new text from a few minutes ago.

rafe <3: hope you like the flowers and bag baby. love you! :)

you: i love them. thanks rafe, love you too

rafe <3: good to hear. lmk what you end up getting for dinner and i’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you to your nail apt. can’t wait to see you baby

you would order yourself dinner that was obviously way less than $500, but you would send rafe a picture and thank him again. you’d facetime him before bed and conversation flowed like nothing had even happened just hours before. he’d ask you what color nails you were getting, tell you funny stories about the old men at the country club and excitedly plan what you two were going to do the next day. the cycle seemed like it would never end, but you often forgot about the bad when he was talking so sweetly to you and all you could think about was how excited you were to see him tomorrow.

#rafe cameron #toxic!rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #rafe imagine

3K notes · View notes

maikaartwork · 2 years ago

Text

Artists, let’s talk about Instagram commission scammers

There’s been a huge rise in commission scammers recently, mostly on Instagram. A lot of new artists don’t know what to look out for, so I figured this might help people.

How they begin

Usually the scammer will write to you asking about a commission. Something deceptively cute - mostly I encounter asks about pet portraits, with one or two photos sent. They’ll probably try to sell you a sweet little story, like “It’s for my son’s birthday”. They will insist that they love your artwork and style, even though they don’t follow you or never liked a single piece of your art.

What to look out for:

Their profiles will either be private, empty, or filled with very generic stuff, dating at most a few years back.

Their language will be very simple, rushed or downright bad. They might use weird emojis that nobody ever uses. They will probably send impatient “??” when you don’t answer immediately. They’re in a crunch - lots of people to scam, you know.

They’ll give you absolutely no guidelines. No hints on style, contents aside from (usually) the pet and often a name written on the artwork, no theme. Anything you draw will be perfect. Full artistic freedom. In reality they don’t really care for this part.

They’ll offer you a ridiculous amount of money. Usually 100 or 300 USD (EDIT: I know it might not be a lot for some work. What I mean here - way higher than your asking price, 100 and 300 are standard rates they give). They’ll often put in a phrase like “I am willing to compensate you financially” and “I want the best you can draw”, peppered with vague praise. It will most likely sound way too good to be true. That’s because it is.

Where the scam actually happens

If you agree, they will ask you for a payment method. They’ll try to get to this part as soon as possible.

Usually, they’ll insist on PayPal. And not just any PayPal. They’ll always insist on sending you a transfer immediately. None of that PayPal Invoice stuff (although some do have methods for that, too). They’ll really, REALLY want to get your PayPal email address and name for the transfer - that’s what they’re after. If you insist on any other method, they’ll just circle back to the transfer “for easiest method”. If you do provide them with the info, most likely you’ll soon get a scam email. It most likely be a message with a link that will ultimately lead to bleeding you dry. Never, and I mean NEVER click on any emails or links you get from them. It’s like with any other scam emails you can ever get.

A few things can happen here:

They overpay you and ask for the difference to be wired back. Usually it will go to a different account and you’ll never see that money again.

They’ll overpay you “for shipping costs” and ask you to forward the difference to their shipping company. Just like before, you’ll never see that money again.

The actual owner of the account (yes, they most likely use stolen accounts to wire from) will realize there’s been something sketchy going on and request a refund via official channels. Your account will be charged with fees and/or you get in trouble for fraudulent transactions.

You will transfer the money from your PayPal credit to your bank account and they will make a shitstorm when they want their money back, making your life a living hell. They will call you a scammer, a thief, make wild claims, wearing you down and forcing you into wiring money “back” - aka to their final destination account.

Never, EVER wire money to anyone. This is not how it’s supposed to go. Use PayPal Invoice for secure exchanges where the client needs to provide you with their email, not the other way around.

You can find more info on that method HERE.

What to do when you encounter a scammer:

Ask the right questions: inquire about the style, which artwork of yours they like, as much details as you can. They won’t supply you with any good answers.

Don’t let the rush of the exchange, their praise and the promise of insanely good money to get to you. That’s how they operate, that’s how they make you lose vigilance.

Don’t engage them. As soon as you realize it might be a scam, block them. The sense of urgency they create with their rushed exchange, and pressure they put on you will sooner or later get to you and you might do something that you’ll regret later.

Never wire money to anyone. Never give out your personal data. Never provide your email, name, address or credit card info.

Don’t be deceived by receiving a payment, if you somehow agree to go along with it. Just because it’s there now doesn’t mean it can’t be withdrawn.

Here is a very standard example of such an exchange. I realized it’s a scam pretty fast and went along with it, because I wanted good screenshots for you guys, so I tried going very “by the book” with it.

Please share this post, make it reach as many artists as possible. Let young or inexperienced artists know that this is going on. So many people have no idea that this is a thing. Let’s help each other out. If you think I missed any relevant info, do add it as an rb!

Also, if you know other scam methods that you think should be shared, consider rb-ing this post with them below. Having a master post of scam protection would AWESOME to have in the art community.

#art resources #artist help #artist advice #commission advice #scammers #instagram scam #please share with your fellow artists

16K notes · View notes

meo-eiru · 1 month ago

Text

Day 6 of Character Trivia Night!

For tonight we have Micah

Micah is an only child with a mother and a father

He grew up in a small town and his parents were upper-middle class in town standards

They were very religious and paid a lot of attention to always appearing proper. They wouldn't wear the same outfits two days in a row and made sure their clothes were always perfectly ironed

His dad was quite strict with him, not allowing him to play outside and crease his clothes, and made sure he attended church regularly

Micah was never really interested in playing with the other kids so he didn't particularly care about the rules

Even as a child he was aware he was prettier and smarter than most kids around, he was also very apathetic towards others. He didn't particularly care about them but enjoyed when they praised and looked up to him so kept the good boy act

His one joy was growing flowers, because unlike humans flowers are not annoying. If he takes good care of a flower it'll grow up and bloom like planned, it won't betray his plans. Its life is on his hands, if he decides to cut it it'll die, and if he decides to stop watering it it'll shrivel

His parents weren't very into the idea of him taking care of their garden but after seeing he wasn't giving up and that he actually made it look prettier they gave in

He was later on sent to the capital to further his education, joining the cathedral and quickly becoming a high priest

Even away from his parents he continued to live following their teachings. He would wear clean and well ironed clothes, he usually preferred loose fitting ones that didn't show much skin

He also started growing his hair to the possible displeasure of his father, he enjoyed taking care of it and keeping it clean. He naturally had very thick strands but his hair was still very soft

He also quite enjoying coffee, especially with some light sweets accompanying it. Thanks you that he ended up being quite good at brewing coffee and baking low sugar cakes

He was popular with men and women alike thanks to his angelic appearance and polite personality, receiving letters of affection not only from people inside the cathedral but those who simply came to visit it

Soon enough he was more well known than the actual bishop amongst the common people

He didn't really care about ranking up more and taking on the bishop role, he actually enjoyed the fact that he was better liked even as someone of lower status which made the actual bishop quite furious

He was eventually sent to work at a church in a nearby town by the bishop who did not enjoy seeing him around, not that Micah cared. The town was small but clean and well taken care of, he could just live quietly while being adored by those around

He was greeted with many cheers upon his arrival to the church, his fame traveling ahead of him

He greeted everyone and introduced himself, not caring to pay too much attention to the stuff they told him

Around his third day at the church, as he was passing by the inner garden he heard the sounds of giggling

Two nuns in training, seemingly enjoying a conversation between themselves

Micah could hear what they were talking about but somehow it all felt like blank noise, not registering. The weather was nice, he could feel a warm breeze flowing through his hair. The sunlight was just right, making his skin warm and fuzzy but not to the point of making him sweat. He could hear the chirps of birds mixing with their giggles. Everything was so nice, so nice and so clear, and Micah was just standing there. He was just standing there and looking at the nun he seemingly had never noticed before. Was the sky always so blue and full of life?

It wasn't too hard finding more about you as you were on good terms with most people around. He quickly learned that you were a faithful child of god, that your family was quite poor and that you wanted to become a nun in hopes of earning money to help your family

The day he first approached you was an exciting day for you. He's THE Micah after all, anyone would be excited. He was so nice and so easy to talk to, before you knew it you were crying about your struggles and pains as he gently hugged you

You really liked him, he would always listened to your problems so patiently and offer you solutions. With him you felt so seen

At first it started small, Micah bought you the dress you've been eyeing for so long. Then it started getting bigger, he would sometimes directly give you money, telling you to go buy whatever you need

He was like an angel, truly a good person. You thought he must be a savior sent by god to make your pains go away

And so you trusted him, how could you not? He was such a good person, and everyone knew just how good he was. And you continued trusting him when he called you to his chambers late at nights, you trusted him when he locked the door behind you, you trusted him when he was being just a bit too close for your liking

▇▇▇═███▇▇▇═▇▇▇═███▇▇▇═▇▇▇═███▇▇▇

▇▇▇═███▇▇██▇▇▇═▇▇▇═███

███▇▇▇███▇▇▇═▇▇▇═███▇▇▇═▇▇▇═███▇▇▇═

Micah didn't care about how many weeds he had to cut off to make one flower bloom the way he wants it to bloom. At the end of the day it's the flower he wanted, and his flower has the prettiest petals when he holds it in his hands

#micah #yandere priest #yandere priest x reader #yandere #male yandere #tw non con #tw noncon #tw religion #male yandere x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #oc #my oc #yandere oc #yandere original character #original yandere #original character

2K notes · View notes

baeshijima · 3 months ago

Text

being married to duke!blade is a feat inconceivable to many.

overseeing the northern region where monster outbreaks are high and temperatures are low, he is feared by many for not only his undeniable battle prowess, but also his cold and dismissive demeanour. from all the stories and rumours passed down from those who battled alongside the duke, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say his mere presence alone is sufficient enough to take on an entire army.

but despite his infamous personality, the young duke had made rounds within high society when he first showed his face. he was handsome, having that rugged appearance expected of a blood-soaked warrior residing on the battlefied, yet beautiful with a haunting allure — those crimson-marigold eyes of his can simultaneously bewitch an unassuming victim and bring the most prideful of monarchs down to their knees.

and, as expected of someone with such descriptors, many of the nobility found themselves drawn to him in spite of the rumours which clung to his very being. noble ladies wished to be the first he ever danced with, while many families seeked to gain even a morsel of his power through arranged marriages. relentless as they were, none succeeded in swaying the stone-cold duke.

and stone-cold he was upon your first meeting, albeit in… less than fortunate circumstances.

having meandered around the foresty northern borders not too far from where your family estate is, you certainly were not expecting to stumble across a rotting corpse smack-dab in the middle of your path! okay, well, rotting may not be the most suitable term, but the slumped body, battered and bruised and bloodied, you accidentally kicked was very much a corpse.

you had contemplated leaving the body there but, upon seeing a bloodied insignia of an all-too familiar ducal household, you decided you wanted to live a little longer. of course, this led to you lugging a slumped, muscle-packed warrior of a man all the way to where your estate was, heaving and huffing with your body trembling under the weight.

(to say you were just about ready to collapse when the family knights spotted your emerging figure was no understatement!)

whisked away into a guest room near your own, your parents called for the family doctor immediately. when the blood was cleaned and his wounds were wrapped, the sight of his injuries mending themselves was sure to be a sight you would never be able to rid your mind of. it was a strange but intriguing phenomenon to see his skin stitched anew, that horrid sight of him collapsed in the forestry almost like that of a dream.

your father immediately sent word to the duke’s estate to notify them of the circumstances. in the meanwhile, the man of the hour was unconscious for three days. seeing as how you were the one to find him, you took it upon yourself to help look after his well-being. changing his bandages, regularly wiping the accumulating sweat with a freshly damp cloth, ensuring the room is well-ventilated — you did the lot!

(sometimes you would stare at his resting face, wondering just how much more handsome he would be with his eyes open; only to retract that sentiment when recalling the tales about how his eyes could burn a man alive. exaggerated or not, he is still a dangerous individual you would rather not further entangle yourself with.)

with his people having retrieved their master from your care, promises of hefty compensation for taking care of their lord ringing in your ears, you were ready to sweep the whole ordeal under the rug and never get yourself involved with a man like him again! after all, he is the fearful duke responsible for your region, while you’re just another noble within his domain.

so, naturally, when you first heard of your soon-to-be marriage, you thought your parents did something to offend him and were sending you as a sacrifice meant to appease his wrath.

because, well, why else would the very same duke infamous for having zero interest in romantic and political marriages be sending a letter for your hand in marriage of his own accord? being unconscious the entirety of the time made him unable to see you, let alone know your family, so of course that meant his staff had filled him in on what happened. but why would he initiate this proposal without even knowing who you are first???

(did you get a say in this? no. would you have refused? yes. did your parents care about you and your well-being? aside from their apologetic gazes at your slack-jawed reaction and somewhat rational reasoning of “his grace may have an infamous reputation, but he is not a cruel ruler nor man,” you would like to deny the parental affection they have given you thus far in favour of objecting the claim.)

well, no matter. there was little time to prepare for his arrival to your estate, as the letter stated he would be arriving to escort you himself.

after much fuss over your clothing and luggage, the day arrived; you were going to see him again, except this time, he would see you as well.

a regal carriage entered the estate’s gates. the door swung open. a black gloved hand was the first to appear, followed by a ducked head of long navy hair, a familiar figure donning a freshly pressed suit and black overcoat, and finally — finally — a pair of burning crimson-marigold met your own gaze.

you weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline of your fight or flight response kicking in or the butterflies which ruptured within you that caused your heart rate to increase, but you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from him.

he stopped in front of you, the features you once saw up close felt more complete than ever with the addition of his eyes open.

and thus, with your palm settled atop his outstretched gloved one, your fate was sealed.

(man. was this the compensation the staff were saying to you as they left…?)

that was two years ago.

savage. cold-blooded. inhumane. brute. monster. these were some of the ways in which duke blade was described. the man who currently sits on the edge of the bed watching you dress his wounds, however, is much different than the public opinion.

ever since exchanging vows at the altar and slipping sacred rings of matrimony onto each other’s fingers, you have come to know many sides of blade you never thought possible.

and while he rarely spoke in the beginning, his actions spoke louder than any voice could ever hope to measure up to. and, eventually, he became more vocal in regards to his feelings for you, just as you have with yours upon witnessing firsthand his true character.

from his battle-haggard, near manic state when on the verge of succumbing to the curse before falling into your healing embrace, to his tender fleeting touches and ever-adoring affection repressed within his gaze when in the presence of others, you have seen it all.

the process of getting to know and understand the intricacies of his life is almost like unravelling layers upon layers of thin bandage wrapped tightly around a gaping wound, hoping to block out the vulnerabilities which could be exposed. it was rocky at first, you being in an unfamiliar environment while he had his own inner battles to deal with first and foremost, but time carved its path for the two of you to partake in talks lasting late into the night, a subtle fondness growing more pronounced as familiarity grew alongside it.

and, of course, the time he returned from a subjugation battle-worn and mind having been overriden with mania. it was the first you’d seen him in such a loss of control. knights were rushing to subdue him while the servants desperately tried to usher your bewildered form some place safe, as though this had been a common occurrence well before you came into the picture. that hadn’t gone as planned, however, as the moment blade’s heaving figure locked eyes with you, a state of chaos ensued the moment he broke through the wall of knights with ease and appeared in front of you. no time was wasted when he lunged, a panic chorus of cries following suit as you remained rooted in place.

while you would never forget the blown-out, near-animalistic look in his eyes as he drew closer at an impossible speed, the gentle — almost reverent — manner in which he embraced you then, rigid body instantly relaxing against you, would forever be the turning point of your relationship, as well as a long-cherished memory of his first true feelings.

a dull sensation poking the space between your brows snaps you out of your thoughts. “stop frowning. i’ll be fine like always.”

your hands pause in their ministrations, hovering over his bare torso where you finished tying up a bandage. a blink and a sigh, another swab of disinfectant is in your hands working at the wound on his bicep.

“but that doesn’t mean i like seeing you return to me wounded,” you mutter bitterly, blatantly ignoring his stare. “i know you can take care of yourself, what with that regenerative ability of yours, but i still worry over you. you can still feel the pain, after all, and not to mention that curse—”

a swift tug forward abruptly cuts you off, your words fizzling on the tip of your tongue as a familiar warmth encases you in its entirety. instinctively, your hands grip onto his shoulders, the coarse material of bandages not unfamiliar to your touch, while blade’s hands are splayed across the expanse of your back as he holds you against his seated form.

his nose nudges along the slope of your neck, the shape of your jaw, the contours of your face, a trail of soft kisses leaving searing imprints in its wake.

a deep breath, a ticklish sensation, a thrumming heartbeat.

and when he rests his forehead against your own, crimson-marigold eyes dyed with devotion and seeping ardour, you think the world will be okay.

(even if it were to burst into flames and be reduced to ash, if it means you would be by this man’s side for a little longer, you think it will be okay.)

#blade x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade x you #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #anywhoodles hehe duke of the north blade agenda coming back again after my hsr royalty au fic from ages ago 😩#blade i lof u……. hear my pleas and cries and have mercy so i can write ur soulmate au fic and cat dad bass player uni au fic…..#always on the brain 25/8 with royalty aus i fear #sophie talks : concepts <3

3K notes · View notes

capricornlevi · 3 months ago

Text

exhausted and battle-worn levi who has made something of a habit of crawling into your bed after missions.

it's a habit that formed first out of necessity; you'd both been tasked with bringing the cadets on a snowstorm training exercise but had to bail out halfway up the mountain due to an avalanche. you'd sent the cadets back down with hange and moblit while offering to stay put with most of the equipment, figuring the gear too valuable to risk the chance of it being picked through by thieves by the time you were able to return. levi offered to stay with you, an offer you were sure he'd regret. you weren't close -- not enemies, but your relationship was built on begrudging respect and prolonged silence. not exactly the makings of an easy time spent alone together.

as the night turned inky black and blisteringly cold, you soon realised that you underestimated how cutting the wind would be. the base was insulated as best as the survey corps could afford -- which is to say, very poorly.

out of desperation, you'd made an unspoken pact to share a bed that night.

it wasn't romantic, let alone sexual, a pragmatic measure designed to keep your fingers and toes intact, but you were surprised to find him still there in the morning when the wind had died down. he wasn't curled up against you and his face betrayed no signs of any emotion, but he was still there. you were the first to slip out from under the covers.

the next time was after a particularly late night spent strategising (on levi's end) and drinking (on yours). you'd grown somewhat closer since that night spent up the mountain, with him trusting your opinion over most other officers. at the end-of-year celebration, a rowdy event with all military branches forced to attend, he had chosen to sit next to you, a decision that caused something of a stir amongst the cadets. you both chose to disregard the gossip, though even you couldn't ignore the way his eyes followed your every movement that evening.

when the coast was clear you retired to your chambers with him trailing after you, eager to escape a night spent putting up with the drunken debauchery of the military police. again, the night was tame, with you exchanging various plans and theories back and forth until you both fell asleep, clothed, on top of your mattress.

you had felt the temptation to kiss him but didn't, figuring it was just the wine talking.

that kiss happened three missions later, with levi so relieved to find you alive he had taken your face in his blood-stained hands and pressed his lips to yours. it was more desperate than heated, a surge of emotion that even he couldn't control.

he showed up at your door that night and took his place next to you in your bed, and a habit was born.

things move slowly with you both, and you're okay with that. everything else about your lives moves at breakneck speed, too fast to process, and so you're content with the little victories.

like levi resting a hand across your waist as you sleep, keeping it there until it's time to get dressed for morning roll call.

like levi going from a silent goodbye to a spoken goodbye to a kiss before he steps away, ready to face back out into the world.

now, you wake to feel levi's chin resting against your shoulder, his head resting in the groove of your neck, it's another victory, and you'll take it happily.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x gn!reader #levi fluff #levi ackerman i love u So much #levi x you #levi ackerman x you

1K notes · View notes

ssahotchnerr · 5 months ago

Note

aaron’s wife going into labor on his birthday or the day before and gives birth on his birthday?

only more reasons to celebrate

happy birthday aaron 🥰 & the abridged version of ellie's debut!! (now it's official she and aaron share a birthday <3) cw; fem pregnant!reader, (sad) references to 9x5 and takes place end of 9x6, vague childbirth talk with no specific details, fluff!!! wc; 1.3k

"Happy almost birthday. I'll keep it on the DL." You heard Penelope utter to Aaron, faintly as she walked past him.

"Thank you." He replied, finding your eyes and offering a wink.

Come tomorrow, he was confident it would be anything but on the down low. He knew you, and although you were about ready to pop, you would go all out for him as much as you possibly could.

And he was right - you and Jack had already planned his day out to a T, beginning with a birthday banner and all.

"Okay everybody, I guess it's time-" Penelope spoke to the group, embracing her role as hostess, holding the team's very first Day of the Dead party.

You smiled to yourself at their brief exchange, your eyes flicking between the two of them. Your heart warmed, especially when Aaron sidled alongside you, a hand finding your lower back.

After the last few weeks, after what Aaron had endured, there was only more of a reason to celebrate. His close proximity; the heat radiating from his body, the smell of his cologne, choked you up immediately.

Sole reminders he was in fact, here.

Undergoing emergency surgery, fighting for his life - all of which nearly sent you into an early labor - once again he had defied all odds. It could've been very likely you could've been celebrating his birthday without him, talking to him through a candle as he and Jack did to Haley.

You immediately pushed the thought from your mind. It petrified you. Losing him. Bringing your baby into the world without him. Jack losing another parent. Life without Aaron. You couldn't afford to think like that.

And now, with that in the past, it finally felt as if life were settling back down. As much as it could, at least. The newest Hotchner addition soon to make their arrival into your family.

"Hey," You said softly, mumbling underneath Penelope's spiel. "I love you."

His hand moved from your back to your shoulder, offering a comforting squeeze. "I love you."

But despite your want for a bit of normalcy, it was interrupted by twinge erupting in your body. It wasn't your first little pang either, but you figured - it couldn't be. Not yet.

JJ, on the other hand, was keyed in onto you. She's been studying you all night long, throughout all of Penelope's planned extravaganzas - appetizers, the remembrances, enjoying the party. From every movement, reaction, facial expression.

It wasn't until the strongest contraction hit, and when you were beginning to seriously question it. She, out of all people, would know. She nearly did the same thing herself.

"What?" You innocently asked, despite the fact you knew, as her intensifying stare hadn't lifted from you in a fair few minutes. You flinched slightly, pain written across your face. You lowered your hand, deciding against the hors d'oeuvres you had been reaching for.

"How far apart are they?"

That was all JJ had to say, causing an instant standstill in the room. Aaron's eyes widened as they shot to you, realization filling them within a second. The rest of the team's conversations came to a halt, anticipating eyes on you. An excited squeal escaped Penelope.

Everything after that was a blur. Aaron getting you to the car in a frenzy; a very calm, and collected frenzy. Getting to the hospital, checking in, and experiencing the highs and lows of childbirth. At one point, you certainly cut off the circulation in Aaron's hand.

Come mid morning and an epidural later, she was here.

"Sorry for overshadowing your birthday." You took a break from admiring the little one swaddled in your arms to glance at your husband. It was hard to tear your gaze away. She was perfect.

And not only did you feel an outpouring amount of love for her, but Aaron as well. Viewing him in a different, lovingly light. It felt as if your chest could burst with infatuation. She was half you, half him. The two of you brought this bundle of joy into the world, together.

"Are you kidding?" Aaron gave you an almost offended look from where he was seated beside you, before a smile overtook his face. He pressed a kiss to your temple, gazing at your daughter too. "This is easily, easily the best birthday I could ever imagine. You've given me the greatest gift. Thank you for making it even more special, sweetheart."

The happiness on your face grew, and he immediately gave you a kiss. You could feel his smile.

"Thank you for making me a Dad again."

Later in the day, Jack's head poked through the crack of the door, a grinning Jessica behind him.

"Hey," Aaron beckoned the two of them in, both entering slowly. Jess had a plastic tray of cupcakes in hand. Celebrations were in order, times two.

"Hi Mom, Dad."

Jack hesitantly approached, surprisingly shy. You imagined Jessica had given him the quiet talk on the way up. Either that, or maybe he was still a bit weary from when he visited Aaron in the hospital a few weeks ago - there was the smallest bit of worrisome furrowed in his brows.

Jess stepped off to the side, allowing the four of you to have your moment.

"Hi buddy." You greeted as your eyes immediately welled up, the emotion clear in your voice; overwhelmed from enduring childbirth, your hormones everywhere, and the pure happiness coursing through your veins. "Wanna meet your sister?"

It was surreal too; Jack finally meeting his little sibling. After months of excitement, preparation, talks of what life would be like with a new addition. The time had finally arrived.

Right now. Right now was the beginning of their bond that was sure to be the most special thing.

"Sister?" His face lit up, any remaining hesitations aside as he made it to your bedside, attempting to lean over to get a clearer view. "She's a girl?"

"Here, careful." Aaron's hands extended forward, helping him onto the hospital bed. You were sore, multiple IVs were poking into you, and to make certain the baby wasn't disrupted by any of the movement.

Jack nestled gently into your side, peering at her in absolute awe. The smallest of breaths left him, you could feel his exhale on your arm. "I can't believe that's really her. She's so tiny."

"Isn't she? Can you believe you were this small once?" You asked, adjusting the blanket to expose a bit more of her face. At the action, Aaron's posture straightened, ready to assist if needed, or to simply do it for you. He was definitely worried you'd somehow overexert yourself. "Are you up for holding her?"

Jack's expression widened, nodding vigorously as Aaron did help this time - moving her from your arms to his, and ensuring the back of her head was supported. The classic pillow-under-the elbow strategy.

Once settled, her eyes opened for a moment, blinking up at her big brother, as if she knew she was being held by him. Jack's gaze lifted in shock, glancing between you and Aaron. Once again, cue your tears.

"What's her name?"

"Eleanor." Aaron answered proudly, another smile tugging on his lips. You met his gaze, grinning.

"She shares a birthday with you Dad." Jack stated, using the side of his index finger to brush her cheek. "That's so cool. You guys are like twins."

"Yeah well, we'll see how much Eleanor likes it as she gets older."

You playfully rolled your eyes, your reaction causing a chuckle to exit Aaron. His hand found the back of your head, lovingly smoothing your hair down.

"It's very cool." Aaron still confirmed, his heart full. "I was just telling Mom, this is one the best presents I could ever receive."

"And two birthdays mean two birthday cakes." Jack looked up at his father, grinning from ear to ear. "Ellie will love it."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

2K notes · View notes

cherubkissesx · 4 days ago

Text

tangled limbs

part 2 here!

pairing: spencer reid x bau!female reader

summary: you and spencer are in a secret relationship but you’re sick so spencer immediately rushes to your place after work but he ends up falling asleep, but penelope and derek catch you two.

contents: fluff, sick reader!, talks of throwing up

you woke up that day feeling absolutely terrible but decided to go into work anyways, however just before you and the team were about to go on the jet aaron stopped you and told you to go home.

“what! why?” you said stunned but aaron just shot you a look as if to say “are you serious”. “you look very ill, and it doesn’t ease my nerves to know one of my team might throw up everywhere based on the way you cover your mouth every five seconds” aaron said pointedly.

“you make a very good point sir” you said giving up and walking to go pack up your stuff to leave. “where are you headed?” spencer said subtly putting his hand on your wrist.

“home i feel awful” you said as you yet again find your hand flying up to your mouth in a moment of panic thinking you might throw up but lower your hand when the nausea passed.

“in the politest way possible, you look god awful” spencer said in a soft tone. “gee, thanks” you laugh.

“i’ll see you later.” you said and when there was no one around he planted a kiss on your temple which made your pale complexion flush instantly.

—-

you got changed into your pjs immediately upon arriving home and flop into bed making sure you have a sick bucket at the side of your bed just incase.

practically as soon as your head hit the pillow you fell into a deep slumber. the coolness of your sheets hitting your flushed face felt nice and soothing.

some hours later you awoke startled as you felt someone gently shake you awake. “spence?” you managed to say once you peeled your eyes open. you looked around your room finding that your room was engulfed in darkness. wow how long had you slept?

you check your phone and see it was 11pm that same day, you had slept all day.

“what are you doing here?” you asked softly budging up and patting the now open spot for spencer to sit in.

“i was worried about you” spencer said engulfing you in a gentle hug. “it’s only a stomach bug and maybe a bit of a fever” you waved off.

“shhh let me worry” spencer said lying down and pulling you into his side. “you guys are back earlier than i thought” you said trying to make conversation. “the case was a bust, minimal evidence” spencer said sadly. “i’m thankful i didn’t miss out on much i already feel awful for not being there” you confessed.

“you never take a day off work not in all the years i’ve known you, plus you didn’t really take the day off you were sent home” spencer said reassuringly.

you smile up at him and snuggle into him even more as if no matter how close you were pressed into him it wasn’t enough. he diverts his soft doe like eyes down to yours and kisses you tenderly.

“my breath smells bad” you said giggling. “let me look after you” spencer smiles and runs his fingers through your hair which has your eyelids drooping.

—-

penelope and derek both take turns knocking on your apartment door but there was no answer. “we’ll just use her spare key!” penelope exclaims. “why would you know where she keeps her spare key?” derek asked in confusion. “doesn’t take a genius to figure it out” penelope said and retrieved your spare key from underneath your doormat.

“for an fbi agent that’s this smart she doesn’t think about her safety” derek laughed.

penelope and derek had brought you a care package although it was all penelope’s idea and derek just tagged along, it consisted of homemade soup, face masks, etc.

they made a beeline to your bedroom as it was the only door closed and you weren’t anywhere else. “y/n!” penelope said in a sing song voice.

“i—?” penelope said going to say something but stopped dead in her tracks and so did derek.

the scene they saw infront of them was you nestled in closely to spencer’s side, your head buried in the crook of his nick and his head resting on top of yours. he had a protective arm slung over your body while your hand was resting on his chest. and your legs where tangled together.

“did you know anything about this?” derek asked in surprise. “no! how could she not say anything” penelope whisper shouted.

“i think we should take a picture!” penelope announced excitedly and captured a photo of you two.

“they are never hearing the end of this.” derek chuckled.

#bau x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader

744 notes · View notes

johnbrand · 4 months ago

Text

Sister's New Boyfriend

“C’mon bro, didn’t you miss this?” Scott teased, his giant Size 13 foot plopped onto the coffee table in front of me.

“Cut it out, Scott,” I hissed, knowing my sister was bound to call us into the kitchen any minute now.

“Why should I?” Scott cockily grinned. “We both know you want to.”

I held back the scarlet that threatened to color my face. “That’s not true.”

“It’s only been what, seven or eight years since high school?” Scott’s grin shifted into an exaggerated frown. “Surely you haven't forgotten me, have you? And all the fun times we had together?”

Unfortunately I had not forgotten Scott, or the “fun times” he was referring to. The constant bullying; harassment and name-calling and even a few bouts of abuse. It was painful for me to reflect on, both of us being the same age and yet being emotionally attacked by a man double my size. Since those years, the gym and my therapist had helped me move past those vulnerable times. Even though I had struggled to find a relationship, I was stronger now; a fighter well-off with a supportive network.

“Luckily for you, I’ve moved on,” I snarked, sizing Scott up.

“I don’t think you have,” Scott’s smirk returned. “Otherwise you would’ve left as soon as you saw me.”

I had not expected Scott to be my sister’s new boyfriend. The man she had been gloating about for months, this “kind, sensible, loyal” being that had corrupted her life to the point that he was all she would talk about. I would have never assumed my sister–my older, highly educated sister–to end up with the malevolent jock who had destroyed my ego all those years ago. And after brief introductions, in which I realized I was still physically smaller than my former tormentor, I quickly sensed the looming danger of the situation.

“I’m not going to abandon my sister,” I retorted.

“You’re not going to abandon your commands, either,” Scott shot back, a bit to my confusion. Scott had apparently dropped out of college, but had become a fitness influencer in the years since, pulling in huge financial figures. It was difficult not to reflect on the fact that even though I had a degree, Scott had still come out on top. “Stop lying to yourself, buddy.”

Instead of another backhanded defense, I felt myself a slow warmth settling in his bones. My frustration subsided as a peaceful, almost artificial calm crawled over. My usual worries were smoothing over, something that Scott recognized immediately.

“Yeah, that’s it, buddy.” Again, the word sent a pleasurable warmth all across my frame, tingling my toes and twitching the corners of my mouth into the beginnings of a dopey smile. “I see a few years apart hasn’t weakened my conditioning on you at all, has it?”

I knew better than to answer. In therapy, I thought I had discussed all my qualms with Scott. Every single memory I could recover was heavily investigated, scrutinized, and then analyzed to create a plan for my future proceedings. But it was not until that very moment, in my sister’s living room reunited with my high school bully, that I realized I had only covered half of the relationship Scott had created for us. The memories my therapist and I had discussed, those were only the ones Scott had allowed me to remember.

“No Sir,” I replied, the title suddenly feeling appropriate. “Not at all. I still jack off to the thought of your magnificence at least twice a week as you instructed, Sir.”

My pupils inflated as Scott’s smirk grew sinister; this truth being revealed to both of us.

“What, you didn’t think I just let you go after graduation, did you?” Scott’s words cut right to the bone, my embarrassment finally flushing my face. “I guess my hypnosis was better than I thought it was back then. I like to keep all my boys on a leash, in case they ever become useful to me again.”

Before I could respond, Scott snapped his finger and pointed back at his foot. Immediately, I was kneeling before him, my nose inhaling his godly scent and my tongue running across the holy valleys of his sole. Every breath sent another wave of affection across me, the submissive alter ego Scott had created for me back in high school overriding all the defenses I had built up since then.

“Who’d have thought one of them would eventually become my brother-in-law?” Scott commented. Even as my former life and independence was quickly evaporating, his smug victory brought a single tear to my eye.

“I thought I was going to break the news!” My sister yelled from the kitchen, finally entering the conversation but apparently oblivious to what was actually happening. “Dinner will be set in a minute!”

“Thanks babe,” Scott called back, before searing his eyes straight through me. “Hope you’re ready to be an uncle too, buddy.”

That revelation snapped what was left of my free will. But now, I had more important things to worry about, like tending to Scott’s feet.

#male tf #male transformation #faggot tf #straight submission

1K notes · View notes

kujiba · 6 months ago

Text

【Go on and Love Me】

୨୧ — ꒰ male!reader | he/his prounouns | Sagau | Genshinimpact

୨୧ — ꒰ Streamer!Reader who gets sidetracked by people's donations/chats making the genshin characters feel jealous

Ft. Xiao, Wanderer, Kinich, Traveler

A/n: inspired by la2yn0va hsr fic

X I A O

(Name) happily smiled at another donation sent to him after recently completing a natlan quest

"Thanks for the 20 bits donation!"

He thanked the chat with a wide smile, the chat which was filled with people commenting every second flooding the entire screen making (Name) shift his focus to answer their questions about himself.

This cute interaction made (Name) feel warm and lovely in the inside, being able to interact with fans who admired him.

You know who wasn't happy? A dark headed male inside a screen wasn't that happy unlike (Name). Why were these people gifting you so low? Most of all why was (Name)'s attention not on him anymore?

He had to pull alot of strings to make his own crit rise up since (Name)'s luck on the Vermilion domain was absolutely dog shit.

(Name) — Hm? My favorite character in genshin?

Xiao — You called?

Xiao unintentionally blurted that out without any thoughts whatsoever, but when he did realize and saw (Name)'s confused face along with the chat going wild.

Without any choice Xiao did his idle animation to hide his face away from you, he used his mask so that Xiao won't face you for a while since he was in a very vulnerable state

(Name) — New mail? Sweet 300 primos!

(Chat) — Fr? I didn't get any new mail from hoyo yet.

(Name) — Well.. Free primos is free primos

If (Name)'s happy then he'll rest easy today. Hopefully no rumors circulate about what happened earlier.. Self aware fanfics are crazy these days.

W A N D E R E R

Wanderer stared at (Name) blankly, he was too busy thanking people with countless of donations to even realize they were still in a boss fight farming material's for upcoming characters.

Wanderer became (Name)'s fan ever since he saw him at that temporary event named 'Unreconciled Stars Event Quest The Crisis Deepens'.

Smug mf since he made (Name) hit hard pity for him. But was kind enough to give you his c1 after 140 wishes

(Chat) — Why don't you change your main (Streamer Name)?

An irk mark appears on Wanderer's face but wasn't that visible on screen.

Is this swine telling (Name) to replace him with someone else? Hard pass. He was already stolen from (Name)'s attention and now these nobody's are trying to persuade him into maining some other weak random than him.

Just so happen that (Name) spotted a chest nearby and happily went over to open it, Wanderer took this opportunity immediately

(Wanderer) — Unnecessary.

(Chat) — Is it just me or is his voice rougher than usual?

Damn right it's rougher since he just wanted to vent his anger out on any enemies on sight

The chat won't know but what he had said was directly targeted at them, if only he could say every insult known to man right now

So (Name), keep your eyes on him only and no one else, then maybe he'll make his attacks stronger if you comply

(Name) — Well to answer your question earlier chat, no I don't think I'll be changing my main anytime soon. Wanderer's pretty fun to play with.

After (Name) finished talking he took a closer look at Wanderer's face, but his eyes swore Wanderer had a tad bit of pink on his cheeks

His eyes must've been starting to break with the amount of streaming his doing

T R A V E L E R

(Name) had just began to prep for his stream of the week and now he was currently adjusting the Traveler's artifacts to try out a new build

You know what's crazy though? His builds are pretty shitty.

He has the absolute worst luck in artifacts plus in leveling up pieces, most of which usually goes to defense or HP%

But he still hits about 800k regularly with the Traveler! How could he do such thing with only 44.6% Crit rate!?

(Chat) — 1 MILLION?? (Name) are you doing hacks?

(Name) — What? No! Guess my Traveler's just really op

The Traveler is a smug motherfucker

Of course the Traveler wouldn't hit such high numbers without using a...slight adjustment to the system

Sure their pieces are pretty bad but they'll accept anything (Name) had given them! How could they just shake off his hard work on griding for their ascension and talents?

Whenever the Traveler sees (Name)'s shocked expression during the massive crit's appearing on his screen they are damn right happy and overjoyed they managed to satisfy their grace!

(Chat) — Your builds are bad af tho lolol

(Chat) — Why main the Traveler? They're a pretty bad character to main, you should go for Nuevillete or Alhaitham.

The Traveler's good mood immediately faded into dust once he saw the chats text

Are those no lifers saying that they're not fit to be (Name)'s vessel? They're the most perfect one!

What could Nuevillete or whatever character have that they don't? Could they switch elements? Don't think so

If they wanted bigger numbers, the Traveler will show them big numbers all right, if you want them to hit 10 million they're gonna make it happen with just one click

(Name) — Thanks for the suggestion chat but I'm going to stick with the Traveler, I'm already wayyy too attached

The Traveler's mood once again took a 360 and smiled softly at what (Name) said to them, their stomachs fluttering with delight

(Name) is attached to them? No other compliment or praise could ever reach what the Traveler was feeling at the very moment

Their grace! Oh their grace... If only they could just grab onto you and drag you here where you rightfully belong

K I N I C H

Kinich is an upcoming playable character but many in the genshin community have fallen head over heels for him

Yet he couldn't careless about them, after all just being near (Name)'s presence even though it's just by the Traveler's vessel already makes him nice and comfortable

(Name) — Day 10 of saving up for Kinich let's goo

(Chat) — Woah already 200 wishes? You're quick man

(Name) — Can't help it lmao, Kinich seems fun to play and he's really pretty!

(Chat) — He seem's boring though

(Chat) — Dude the dialouge is slightly glitching wtf

The dialouge's glitching is caused by Kinich's embarrassment and rage, he was previously just about to talk till he heard (Name) sing praises about him! How could he not accidentally stutter and mess up the dialouge!?

But on the other hand, the hell did that person meant by he was boring? He wasn't even released yet! This caused Kinich to panic mentally if whether or not you'll change your mind about pulling for him

He stared at you from the screen, clenching his fists tighter by the second. Just a small bit more... Just one more step and he'll be released, then he could really be by your side now.

(Name) — Aw man, hold on chat I gotta pause the stream to fix this glitching

(Name) eventually had to exit the game to try and see what the problem was with his device or if it was overheating again

Meanwhile Kinich was still standing there re-adjusting his thoughts about what just happened. His feelings were all a mixed bag at this point, he sighed rubbing his temples slowly

Ajaw eventually came to his side while looking at him weirdly like he had done something wrong

(Ajaw) — Wow.. Just wow

(Kinich) — Shut up...

To rightfully apologized the system eventually sent 10 wishes in (Name)'s game mail which he was confused at first but eh, more wishes for c6 knich!

Once he becomes playable Kinich would definitely spoil (Name) with high numbers and crit's. He would just have to deal with Ajaw's yapping in the meantime..

So don't get distracted over what those 'Chat' people say about him!

A/n: likes and reblogs are appreciated! Have a nice day(ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

3K notes · View notes