#Happy Hunting Stay Positive

[cherubfae]

love letters || hazbin x reader

with Alastor, Lucifer, Sir Pentious, Angel Dust, Husk, & Vox!

You think you're being sooo sneaky leaving all these sweet love letters for your favorite guy. You're not. They 100% know but if they'll do anything about it is another question entirely.

tags: gn!reader! but implied male/masc reader for Angel ofc :3 mostly fluff!! mildly suggestive in Luci's & Vox's, slight angst for Angel, mention of alcohol consumption in Husk's! Alastor being his usual self lmao

Alastor

You must think you are quite the clever little thing, leaving such sweet notes around for anyone to find. Little letters you think he doesn't know come from you. His shadows haunt every crevice aware of all that goes on within the hotel's interior, and especially those that dwell within his radio tower. It is amusing watching you slither into his abode to leave yet another sweetly decorated note on his control panel while Alastor lurks within the darker corners of his tower. Scarlet eyes soaking you in like a lion hunting a gazelle.

Then, like smoke, you slip out the hatch and down the ladder towards the hotel as quickly as death. Trying to seem casual, whistling an off-key tune.

Curious, he grins. What a curious creature you are, hmm? He picks the letter up, his red claw caressing the crease of the seal. His name stares up at him, written in exquisite cursive and emboldened red ink he wished was blood.

With a single claw he slits open the top of the envelope with the precision of a surgeon's scalpel, withdrawing its contents that had piqued his interest. Immediately, his smirk widens. Positively Cheshire-like.

"My, my, darling. You are endearing, I hope you know that!" Alastor cooed with crackling static. He traced his finger along the penmanship.

He pictures you hunched over your desk fretting over such a delicate piece of stationery. Your words oozed admiration for the Radio Demon. How truly touching! The sentiment was most definitely mutual. Next time, he'll be sure to catch you in the act, little lamb.

Lucifer

The King of Hell was quick to move in upon Charlie's insistence. Eager to make up for lost time with his daughter, he takes on all sorts of tasks and attends every event she has planned. Every team-building exercise, there was Lucifer at the forefront; lest his rubber duck depression returned.

Initially, he's quite confused by the sight of a white and gold foiled envelope placed neatly on the center of his pillow when he returns to his quarters to rest. He's never seen his name written with such care. The scent of love and genuine fondness exudes from the small parcel and tempts his senses. It catches him off guard, a puff of hot air escaping his lips, blinking owlishly.

He's lightheaded as he reads the letter with one hand braced against the wall beside him. An apple-red blush coats his cheeks and creeps down his neck. The scent of you clouds his mind and corrupts his thoughts. He's starting to feel dizzy yet oh-so-happy!

You... You wrote this didn't you, sweetling? Red eyes wash over the page. He closes his eyes and presses the letter to his lips as he leans his back into the wall. It's surely from you, but why didn't you just come and talk to him instead of being all mysterious and cryptic? Has he not made his affections for you clear enough? Perhaps you were shy and felt more confident in staying anonymous.

Lucifer couldn't promise you or himself that he wouldn't go and find you immediately after he calmed down enough to be well-composed in a public space. He was practically vibrating with excitement.

Shaking out his hands and jumping in place, Lucifer straightens his tie. If all goes to plan, he'll have you snuggled in his warm embrace as he flies over Pentagram City before sundown.

Of course, he will make sure all six of his massive wings are preened and looking their best first. Hey, he is the King of Hell after all! He's gonna show off for you a little.

"Alright, darlin', I hope you're ready for a night on the town." Lucifer sucked in a sharp breath and exited his room swiftly making his way to you.

Sir Pentious

Sweet man is so flabbergasted! Surely this is a prank, yes? No? Oh my, then that must mean--! His pupils dilate and water, a big cheesy grin sneaks across his cheeks. His tail swishes behind him lightly and it's hard to fight the blush off his cheeks. It takes everything in him to collect his breath as he clutches the letter to his chest.

"What'cha got there, boss?" Points out one of his Egg Bois. Sir Pentious all but squeaks and shoves the paper unceremoniously into his breast pocket.

Pentious rasps, "No-nothing that needs to concern you!"

"Oh, okay!" Chirps his Egg Boi, waddling off.

Sir Pentious sighs, slitted eyes wander over to where you sit at the bar engaged in deep conversation with Angel and Husk. There's a weird tug in his chest he's never felt before. A longing. You catch his eye and give a gentle smile and offer him a tiny wave which he returns eagerly. He sighs dreamily, coiling in on his tails. I hope I may catch you at a more opportune time, my heart.

Angel Dust

Whenever he's had a particularly rough night at Valentino's, Angel retrieves a pastel blue shoe box from deep within his closest, almost completely filled to the brim with letters, gifts, and keepsakes you'd given him. Even the silly little half-assed doodle you made of him as a spider. He saved it all.

You're so cute, thinking that you're all anonymous when you are absolutely not, leaving him the cutest fuckin' letters that make him want to explode. It's nice. Having someone want you and not for sex. The pure heart of gold of yours was gonna be the double-death of him.

Angel hasn't quite worked up the nerve to ask you out yet. It's something he ponders every day, especially when reading your newest letter. He feels too stuck, too... Fucked up. That's not something he'd wanna put on you. You've never treated him like anything but a person. You saw the real him.

Instead, he lives for your letters. Wishing things could be different, that he could find the power to cut the contract with Valentino, and truly become yours when he's no longer that fucker's pet.

His eyes well with tears as he cradles your latest letter, praising him for how well he'd done at Charlie's little team-building experiment. He pretends it's you that he's holding. His fingers combing through your hair, smiling to himself when you lazily lean up his body to kiss him ever-so-softly. A true kiss made of real love, not lust. You snuggle into his chest fluff with your arms around his waist.

"Baby, I," with a blink, Angel is back to reality. The weight on his chest had only been a snoozing Fat Nuggets. Angel sighs, stroking his little buddy's ears. "Maybe one day, I can be strong enough for both of us, baby." He says out loud, hoping your heart will find his words.

Husk

He's quick to snatch the new letter up before anyone else sees, sending his half-drunk whiskey all across the countertop with a clang. Husk cussed under his breath, stashing your thankfully dry letter beneath the bar for safe-keeping until he could read it later.

"Why'dja gotta leave it out in the open?" Husk grumbles without malice. The playful sway of his raised feathery tail and soft hum as he wipes up his spilled drink was always a good sign of his rare, pleasant mood.

You're growing more and more bold with each letter. Leaving them places where someone other than Husk could accidentally misinterpret them: Charlie.

The last thing he needed was the well-meaning Princess of Hell to overextend herself and start playing matchmaker. Husker was doing just aces on his own. His love life was his and his alone to fuss about. He finished cleaning up the bar for the night, keeping the booze secure in its display case until the following day.

Husk peruses the letter freely in the privacy of his bedroom, one arm folded beneath his head. His golden eyes flicked from word to word. His pupils expand as he exhales an airy chuckle, lingering on the word handsome. The sound of his own trill rumbling in his throat startles him enough to drop the letter and slam his elbow into his nightstand.

Hissing, Husk pressed his palms against his shut eyelids. "Fuck, baby, ya really got this ol' cat comin' undone, huh? Sneaky little minx." He lied back down with a huff. "If only ya knew." His eyes slip shut. Tomorrow. Husk would finally approach you tomorrow.

Vox

"I see you still don't wanna text these, huh, baby?" Vox scoops up the letter taking residence on his seat, hastily clawing it open. He plops down on his chair, leaning back. "Too shy to be so vulnerable for me?" Vox's sharp-toothed grin spreads wide across his display screen, red dripping from the corner of his mouth as he hungrily drinks in your words.

"You are too fuckin' cute, aren't'cha, darlin'?" Vox chuckles, smashing his fist against his console with triumph. A bolt of electricity spirals around the system, causing him to yelp as it spans across the entire city. He created another blackout. "FUCK."

Vox is at your doorstep in a matter of minutes despite the darkness of Pentagram City. The forever-flushed red sky is light enough to find your apartment building. He's dressed in a new suit and feigned ignorance when you opened your door, holding a new letter. Surprised to see him there. Hah, caught with your hand in the fuckin' cookie jar, babe.

Allowing him into your home, Vox easily towers over you with a big grin. You looked fuckin' adorable, staring up at him so meekly.

"You didn't need to hide your feelings from me, sweetheart." He gently tilts your chin upwards. A single cyan claw grazes the line of your jaw, sliding to cup your cheek with his full palm.

"Vox, I," you stammer. Your sentence goes no further than those two small words. Vox traces your lower lip with the tip of his sharp thumb, smiling as your eyes flutter shut. He waits to see if you continue to speak and when you don't, he nods and tugs you to him by your hips. You gasp against him and he smiles, a bit softer now.

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

"I know, baby. I've gotcha," Vox's mouth presses tight to yours, lifting you up further into his arms for better access. Electricity soon ignites the house and city, Velvette must've gotten things running again.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagines #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #sir pentious x reader #angel dust x reader #husk x reader #vox x reader #cherubfae 2024

[yandere-writer-momo]

Hello Can I request Pickles with a s/o who's from the same time era as him? Reader was bring back to life like Pickles and is a little more evoluted than him. They scientists made them meet, but reader is not interested in Pickles, ignoring him completely.

Thanks!

Yes you can! Imagine being unthawed centuries later from your frozen prison to come face to face with this giant smelly man?

Yandere Baki Head Canons

Pickle with a prehistoric S/O

Pickle

The scientist found you a few hours after they found Pickle. You were also encased in salt but instead of punching a t-Rex, you were holding onto the head of a Pterodactyl. Your head resting against theirs as if you had accepted your death.

You had pieces of various gemstones and dried plants braided into your hair, you wore clothes (made of fur), and even had a few weapons unlike Pickle. The scientists were fascinated by you. You must be one of the first humans!

The scientists accidentally revived the two of you. Allen had woken Pickle up by cooking T-Rex while you had woken up from Allen’s screams. You ran to Allen’s rescue and was surprised to see Pickle, the Neanderthal you constantly clashed with back during your time in the world standing above a helpless creature

Pickle and you circled each other for a long time. Pickle attempted to reach out to touch you but you pushed him away. Pickle was happy to see you but you wanted nothing to do with him even in this era

Your tried to walk away from Pickle but he followed you. The caveman grunted and cooed at you since he was so surprised by his surroundings.

Pickle eventually broke down a wall to escape but the two of you were surrounded by flashing lights. You remained away from Pickle for a bit but eventually relented (he kept giving you puppy eyes)

Pickle was thrilled when you sat beside him. He smugly wrapped an arm around you. His golden eyes scanned the humans for any challenges to trying to take you from him but none came forward. Except for the hairy old man who offered his hand to Pickle

Pickle refused to leave until you went with him. He would not keep his hands off of you for the entirety of the trip. Pickle would whine if you didn’t stay close to him. You were the only one he knew

The two of you eventually sit in the enclosure together. Pickle playing with your braids while you remain indifferent. You felt stuck with him and you were positive there wasn’t any creature strong enough to beat Pickle

And as the fighters came to challenge him, you still remained indifferent. You had no interest in this modern world nor did you have an interest in fighting. You had hoped to have perished alongside your pterodactyl companion when the plates shifted but here you were with Pickle

And he wouldn’t let you go. The Neanderthal constantly showed off his victories to you and even some animals he hunted but you had no interest in any of it. If Pickle could think, which you doubted, he’d know that you were an herbivore. You were naturally peaceful compared to him but would fight if you had to (which one of the guards found out when they tried to touch you and then Pickle ate him)

Pickle wouldn’t let you out of his sight for a minute. If you even tried to walk away, he’d growl. The caveman was extremely possessive of you and you despised it. Why did you have to end up being stuck with him of all people? Why couldn’t the scientists just leave the two of you alone?

#baki the grappler #baki hanma #baki son of ogre #baki x reader #baki the grappler x reader #yandere baki #yandere #yandere fic #yandere imagine #female reader #gender neutral reader #Baki #baki headcanons #baki dou #baki gaiden #grappler baki #pickle the caveman #pickle baki #baki pickle #pickle

[gremlingottoosilly]

The art of hospitality (Nanami Kento x fem!Reader)

Life wasn't that good after you dropped out of college. Luckily, a friend of a friend of a relative was willing to take you to live with him so you could watch over his weirdly big house while he was away on endless work trips. Nanami never thought that investment in the kindness of his heart would pay out like this. He is not complaining.

Tags and CW: Yandere, mild dub-con, non-consensual masturbation, Nanami is a panty stealer, light age difference, power imbalance, housewife kink AO3

Some people are just not built to fend for themselves. Nanami can name a few, even though the sentiment leaves a bitter, bun-haired taste in his mouth. He shouldn’t think like this – like him – but it’s as impossible as not thinking about a panda bear after you just been prompted with hot imagining one. 

He can only repeat that he isn’t like this. It isn’t like him. Some people are just not built to fend for themselves, so people like Nanami are doing everything in their power to protect them. Weak are ruling the society and this is exactly how it is supposed to be. Strong should be content with not having any gratitude, happy that they were able to help. This is exactly how it’s supposed to be, and yet… — Thank you so much for letting me stay here, Nanami-san. With the lease and everything coming up, I just… His cheeks aren’t dusted red because this won’t be a normal answer to the situation. He isn’t blushing because he is somewhat not used to receiving a little thank you from a nice girl next door that he allowed to live with him and watch over the house while he is away on the missions(dumb, dumb girl got kicked out of the apartment after a failed lease renewal and found him through a friend of a relative). He knows how grateful you are – not having many things or a lot of money saved, you probably would have moved back to the countryside if it weren’t for him. For a girl like you, it would be kissing your dreams goodbye. Not like sleeping on his couch is any better for someone your age. There is curry on the kitchen island. He recognises the packaging – generic brand from the convenience store he sometimes walked passed during missions in Asakusa. Hm. Last time he touched your cooking(four days before, when he actually managed to drag himself to the house without losing too much sweat) it was made from scratch. He isn’t complaining because he still wasn’t the one to cook it. Asking a girl in dire circumstances to play housewife would be… You don’t pay rent, you get half of the groceries from him(ever-lasting meal planning for everything, even when half of it gets thrown away after a nasty curse hunt is leaves him on the other side of the prefecture for few days in the row) and you don’t sleep on the couch. He has a perfectly comfortable guest bedroom with fresh sheets for you. 

Maybe, you could play housewife a little bit. It’s so stupid for someone in his position, but the packaging of a store-made curry almost made him question the decision to help you in the first place. He didn’t…didn’t expect you to cook for him, of course. He only took you in because being a young adult is tough and not having any friends in a city as expensive as Tokyo can crush a girl like you. He doesn’t know what is this feeling blooming in his chest. Maybe, the remains of the last exorcism are still clinging to him. — You found a job? You tilt your head, your (adorable) lips in a surprised impression. You probably never thought he’d give someone like you this much of his mind – not with how little you talked before. He might come off as too harsh – but he still looks you in the eyes, his gaze only softens because of the glasses he still insists on wearing even inside the house. Nanami promised to himself to not bring work home – but it’s hard to even determine what is home anymore. Maybe it’s a space on the couch, right next to your sprawled legs. Maybe it’s his bedroom. Maybe it’s… — Yes! It’s a convenience store, so it’s part-time, but… He frowns. You close your mouth immediately, lips pursed. Nanami doesn’t want to intimidate you – it’s just six thirty, already too late to be in a serious work mood – but it’s hard when you look simply divine with that scared impression of yours. He shouldn’t bully non-sorcerers, but some people are making it hard. Impossible. He almost understands Satoru. — This is all? — Well, they allowed me to pick more shifts, so I could actually start paying rent. N…not all, but just to thank you for letting me stay with you. You’re kind, he must give you that. Most people in your situation would already make him feel like overstaying their welcome, breaking the simple comfort he found in living on his own, and deflecting his family’s worries about not having anyone to settle down with. He isn’t thirty yet, he shouldn’t worry about it – yet, the thought itches at the back of his mind, Empty house. Most of his older coworkers were itching to ditch overtime because they wanted to meet with their families. He did it because after fighting curses(and returning to doing so) normal human life isn’t something he’d give much thought to.

— You don’t have to pay. I thought we established that. — I have to start somewhere, right? M…maybe I could save up and get a proper apartment. Still, Kento doesn’t like the idea that he might come home one day and won’t find you sitting on the couch and watching TV. Not because you just went out for a quick girl walk, or decided to go shopping – but because you got a big job, a normal job, and you won’t rely on his kindness anymore. 

Some people aren’t made to fend for themselves. Nanami wonders what would you look like if you ever saw a curse. If you were affected by at least one. He…he shouldn’t think like this. You’re lucky that you’re normal. — Paying for three months' rent, the key, and the debt would be impossible with a part-time store job. — I could live with a roommate! Or three… — What difference would it make for our current situation? He puts a hand on the back of the couch. Mere inches from your head – and he can see the surprised expression on your face only getting…more surprised. You are cute for a dropout – ahe he certainly doesn’t mind having you sleeping here. Taking care of the house for him. If he only knew that you also weren’t fully against the proper commitment to this place. Like that little job of yours has any value in terms of experience and…

— I don’t want to intrude too much, Nanami-san. I’ll just get out of your hair as soon as possible, yeah? He would love for you to get into his hair, come to think about it. He had some terrible headaches lately – maybe it’s the job taking its toll again, maybe it’s a lingering curse that he is too exhausted to notice. He doesn’t sense anything besides the overwhelming need for you to come around – and yet he knows he can’t expect you to do that. — I can pay you. 

— What? He wonders if the surprise on your face is going to be embedded in your features forever. He wonders what expression would you have if he’d proposed something more provocative. With something that would leave you panting and gasping and gaping. He shook his head. Too early for this – and too late, also. He already loosened his tie and it made the headache less permanent, but if he’d proceeded to imagine how your pathetic, useless (normal, college dropout) mouth wide around the base of his cock, he would have to excuse himself from the house altogether, Preferably moving back to the countryside you tried to run away from. — If you insist on working…there instead of taking time to actually improve yourself, I could pay you to watch over the house. You gulp, tensing up immediately. He must have come off too strong – but he is way too tired to control his tone, and you should be mature enough to handle the conversations like this. He wasn’t kicking you off – quite the contrary, in fact. But, young adults should take the time to be young. But, young adults should be serious enough to behave like adults – and you shouldn’t bury your ambitions while living with four roommates and their boyfriends and college and drinking and… Sometimes he forgets how not much older he is than you. Maybe this is why you’re so hesitant towards getting help from him – someone that you could imagine in the position of a boyfriend instead of a providing and caring figure. That’s bad, really. Nanami would like for you to see him as your husband. — I couldn’t accept it, Nanami-san. You’re already…already doing so much. “Too much” he can get from your frowned expression. Too much of a lonely man with a big house and no one to watch over it. Too much for a man who doesn’t acept any form of payment from you – a man who didn’t even insist on having you cook and clean, since he got a system that would be too much bother to teach someone other than him. System that you cracked in first few weeks, almost making him believe that the salryman dream he lost after returning to Jujutsu Tech, can be still obtained. Still within the reach of his fingers. 

The woman of his dreams – if a man like him allowed to have them – is sitting on his couch and gushes over paying him for letting her stay. Like he isn’t the one who should beg for her to not run away. Alas, even dream girls can be a bit…dumb. Stupid. Pathetic in a way that would be insane to anyone else. 

Nanami is ought to be a bit more firm with his dumb girl that still thinks she isn’t his. — I would appreciate you cooking way more than any money I’d have to take out of your savings. — But… — You shouldn’t rush into jobs just because you think I would throw you out. I won’t. — It’s…funny. In a way. 

— What is so funny? His hand creeps over the edge of your seat, edging on taking a handful of your hair and tugging. Not because he wanted to hurt you – but because setting you in place would be the desirable option right now. Your inability to believe in the kindness of his heart is almost adorable, if it weren’t also so frustrating. It’s a smart choice, although – would be insane to ask you to believe that a man who took you in did so out of the kindness of his heart. But, Kento doesn’t want for you to be smart and make choices that would benefit you. But, Kento wants for you to rely on him – and making smart choices isn’t going to include that. He could just force you, your weak points already accessed – he knows where to push, where to cut, where to ass a little pressure, so you’d stop being so stubborn. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but sometimes you need to crack a few eggs in the process. Sometimes being good doesn’t mean being nice. — I thought you really wanted to get rid of me at first, Nanami-san. He has been stealing your panties since you first stepped foot into his house. It was a mistake at first – neither you nor him knew how to live with someone so close after reaching adulthood and moving out of dorms where the social boundaries are much, much less permanent. You were silly and forgetful, sometimes mixing your laundry with his. Something as small as a pair of panties, no matter clean or not, were prone to get lost in the laundry area, forgotten in a pile of clothes you already washed – and if Nanami was a lesser man, he would have scolded you for not having the basic courtesy of keeping your things away from his. If Nanami was a bigger man he wouldn’t have slipped a lacey pair into a pocket of his pants, fidgeting on the fabric while you gushed over having to buy so many necessities all of a sudden, or apologized for wrecking havoc in his bathroom. Even now, when you’re embarrassed and warm, trying to explain your point of view to him, he is still playing with your underwear, buried deep within the pocket of his work clothes. He luckily didn’t run into Satoru today – he doesn’t really want to know if his Six Eyes could detect something as scandalous. Not in a normal sense, of course – you’re an adult, if a bit irresponsible – but in the form of him having connections. Someone to return to. 

Nanami wants to push you on your knees and take his rent right out of that surprised, open mouth of yours. You don’t wear any makeup, you’re at home, after all – but he would buy you some adorable lipstick, some sweet lipgloss, just so you could smear it all over his cock, choking and drooling. He wants to be a good man, a patient man, but he has your panties in his pocket already, and it’s always a fresh pair every few weeks – not enough to make you suspicious that this isn’t the washing machine eating it, but also desperately low for someone like him. 

He wonders if you would be even softer than the tender silk of the things you wear. — Why would you think I accepted you, then? 

He knows why you might be nervous – his attitude isn’t the most welcoming one. He can be soft if he has a reason you – but being soft for too long will make you spoiled. Bratty. He likes women with character, but not women with attitudes he can’t control. Even your sitting position, with both of your legs on a couch, is something he could change with a few spanks on the bare skin he can clearly see from under your shorts. Wearing this when there is a man in the house – how scandalous. How precious. He wonders if all the lingerie sets he already bought for you (getting exact sizes is quite easy when he already knows your proportions divided by 7), will be a nice look on you. For you. 

— Maybe it was your one good deed for the month, but then you’d get annoyed and… He touches you – for the first time in weeks. Maybe the first time since he shook your hand all those time ago. The first time he touched you while you weren’t sleeping, at least. Fully conscious, aware of the man in front of you. (Nanami liked to watch you sleep, sometimes. Stressed people have a bad habit of attracting curses, and he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t invite anything in the safety of his house. It’s what he keeps telling himself when he inevitably ended up at the food of your bed, hands on his cock, stroking it slowly, knowing a dumb girl – naive girl – won’t wake up even if he’d decide to finish on your face. He never would – not until you’d ask him to, at least. He hopes that he will be a good person even after you do) Nanami’s hand is on your cheek, holding you softly. Gently. You’re surprised because this is the first time he touched you so softly – so intimately. You’re blissfully unaware of the fact he was touching you so, so much already. Stroking your ass, your tits, your face when he felt particularly tender – when he knew you were too tired of whatever you were doing while being unemployed and having everything catered to you to notice that he is touching you. — I won’t get annoyed with you. 

You press your face against his hand, taking in his touch. He has soft hands – cared for, manicured carefully. He takes care of his appearance and you’re embarrassed to appreciate that about it. To even notice – he isn’t yours, probably doesn’t want to be, but he allows you to live in his house even though you suck at being a proper housewife, and it should mean something. It does mean something – you smile and close your eyes. You want to do something for him because he already did so much for you. The possibilities are making your ears burn. — How can I repay you if you don’t want rent then? He can think of a few ways. The possibilities will make your ears burn. — You can start by actually cooking. 

And he will call in to fire you later. 

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #yandere jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk nanami #nanami smut

[queen-of-fanfics]

I Told You To Stay

Pairing: Peter Pan x Reader

Prompt: Peter told you to stay.

A/N: Ayoooo lol I'm alive. Anywho Y'ALL I GRADUATED COLLEGE and the first thing I accomplished after was writing this fanfic. How have y'all been? Now I have some free time and a desk job so I have time to write more. I literally got the idea for this scenario from a dream I had. So... This one gets a little heated but nothing explicit.

"Where do you think you're going?" Peter teases you as he grabs your arm to spin you around.

You were the second Lost Girl to have ever made it to the island. The first will always be Wendy. Wendy continues to be the mother figure around the island while you were free to run off hunting and exploring with the Lost Boys. You could never shake the feeling that either Wendy hated you or envied you. She would be stuck cooking and caring for the boy while you were almost like a sister. You two never got along too well, the feeling of competition was always there.

The second that you came to the island and met everyone, it was no surprise that Peter was the one that caught your eye. 

However, you were always hesitant to let any hope blossom in you since you thought that Peter and Wendy were together. And if they weren’t, she would have first dibs on him anyway. But that fact never stopped your crush and admiration of him from growing. Day in and day out, you were running through the forests with him and protecting the Lost Boys together. 

Tonight was a quiet and warm night and everyone had had their dinners and was heading to bed. Wendy had made dinner and stayed back at the camp to clean up. You were heading towards your cabin before Peter grabbed your arm.

“You aren’t going to bed already, are you?” Peter asked with his usual smirk.

“Why, huh? You got something in mind worth my while?”

“Only one way to find out, I suppose.” He hides his smile from you as he leads you into the forest. That leads to where you are now. Running through the trees and climbing up the cliff as Peter is bounding off in front of you.

Coming to a stop behind Peter, you drop your hands to your knees and your head drops to start gasping for air. “Are we there yet? I feel like my lungs are going to explode!”

All of a sudden you’re squealing in delight because Peter ran over to you and scooped you into the air, carrying you bridal style. He takes off flying and your arms shoot out and wrapped around his neck. 

“What are you doing?!” 

“Taking you up to see the stars!” He yelled over the whistling wind as you continued laughing until tears formed in your eyes. 

Daring to peek over his shoulders, you gasp at the beautiful aerial view of the island before he dives and does a giant loop in the air. Hugging him close, you shove your face into his neck and breathe in his scent. Though the night was cool, you felt warm against him. Wanting this moment to last forever but you know it can’t, you decide that you will hold this memory so you can always relive this happiness that you feel. 

Feeling dizzy either from the adrenaline or from him, you rest your head against him and press a soft kiss on his neck. 

Suddenly, Peter tosses you lightly into the air and you are airborne before he catches you but now your position has changed. Now you are sitting, straddling his hips, as his hands come to your behind to carry your weight. Your arms wrap around his neck again but now you are face-to-face with him. 

As a blush covers your face, you whisper, “Well hi there.” 

He gives you a small smile as he looks at your thorough hooded eyes, “Much better don’t you think? Now I can see you.” 

You sit there, chest to chest with breaths mingling, completely suspended in the air over a cliff. “What are we doing, Y/N?” His whisper caresses your skin and he leans in just a little bit closer.

“What do you mean?” You can’t help but do the same, almost like a string pulling you to him.

“You know exactly what I mean. Have you casted a spell on me? Making me dream of you every night and thinking of you every minute the sun is up? Have you made yourself my personal magnet to me so I can never not be near you? Are you bewitching me?” He continues to whisper as one of his hands drags up your body and grips the back of your neck, pulling you in closer until your noses are barely touching. 

Your breaths are coming out shaking but your fingers find their way to his hand and you tighten your hold, desperately keeping him close. 

“What if it’s you that is playing with my head?”

Your lips are brushing against each other but not quite touching. Your brain fogs with desire but it’s all pulled away from you as Peter abruptly pulls away and starts flying back to land.

“Wha-” You’re dizzy from the sudden change but you aren’t able to be stable on your feet before Peter is hurriedly pulling you through the trees. Silently giggling and running through the forest, your heart is beating out of your chest. 

Coming to a clearing, you see a small and simple log cabin sitting by itself. There are a few steps leading up to a porch that surrounds the little cabin. 

“Where are we, Peter?”

“This is my place.” He finally slows down to a stop.

He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you as he shoves his face into the crook of your neck. The movement pulls a giggle out of your throat but you don’t take your eyes off the cute cottage.

“I thought you had a tent back at the campsite with everyone else, hm? Are you keeping secrets from us now?” You tease.

“I always have secrets, don’t you know. But this is my own quiet place. I come here when I need to think. Or when I’m scheming.” He tickles your sides and gives your neck a quick kiss before he straightens. “Come on, let’s go inside.” He takes your hand and walks you into the cabin. 

The inside of the cabin matches its look on the outside. Comfortable. Simple. Nothing extravagant. The main room is open. One side seems to act as a dining room with a large table with a few chairs beside it. The other side of the room has a matching large table but this table is covered in maps, scrolls, trinkets, and many other items you did not recognize. You see a door towards the back of the cabin which you could tell leads to a bedroom.  

“Here, let me get you some water before you pass out on me.” 

But before Peter could take a step or before you could even respond, a voice calls out from the back room.

“Peter darling? Did you just get home?”

The blood drains from your face and your eyes grow to saucers as you see Wendy walk out of the back room. Your ears started ringing and it feels as though everything is happening so fast yet so slowly. 

Peter marches over to Wendy and angrily argues with her though you couldn’t hear anything over the muffling in your ears. “What are you doing here? Who said you could be here?”

“What are you talking about, baby? Don’t be like that.” 

Wendy tries to run her hands up Peter’s front side but her hands do not get far before he grabs her hands and throws them off of him. 

Your eyes shoot back and forth between Peter and Wendy and you could hear yourself mumbling, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t-” You hadn’t realized that you were backing up until you felt the front door hit your back. 

Before you knew it, Peter was in front of you. All you could do was stare up at him with your heart ready to leap out of your chest. You were confused and hurt and scared and you wanted to be mad. But looking up at him. With his face soft and full of worry. All you could do was trust. Trust in what, you weren’t sure. But a wave of calmness fell over you as you looked at him and his hands came up to softly grip your shoulders. 

Peter was gently moving you through the cabin and you could hear Wendy protesting but you couldn’t clear your head enough to hear what she was saying. Peter leads you to the back room which is his bedroom. He sits you on his bed and whispers to you, “Stay here.” 

“Peter, I can go. I should’ve known you two were together. I shouldn’t be here, I can go.” But before you could make a move for the door, Peter grips your face gently but firmly, “I said ‘stay here’. I will figure this out. I’m not with her. She isn’t welcome here. You. Stay. Here.” 

Peter slammed the door behind him as he left and all you could do was sit on the bed as you were told. Looking around the room, there wasn’t much there to keep you entertained. There was a nightstand by the bed with a few nicknacks on it. A desk with papers covered in writing you couldn’t read. No pictures. No posters. Nothing. Twiddling your thumbs, you tried to not overthink. You sat as patiently as you could but as the minutes ticked by and their angry whispering didn't stop, your anxiety started to kick up.

What if he is lying? Why would she just randomly be here? She’s comfortable enough coming in and out of his place like that. He could just be telling me what I want to hear. Of course, they’re together. Even a blind person could see that they were together. When did I become so dumb?! I need to get out of here. 

Your breathing starts to become more rapid as your mind starts spiraling. Looking around the room, there was only one door, and that led back to the main room where Peter and Wendy are. The only other thing in the room was a window that sat above the desk. That was your ticket out. You thank the stars that you weren’t on an upstairs floor or anything or else this escape plan was going to be harder than you thought.

Swinging the window wide enough for your body to fit through, you quietly climbed up onto the table, careful not to disturb anything, and started to push out. You managed to make your way out but you accidentally made a loud thump as your body hit the back deck. Before you could stop and think about what to do, you jumped to your feet and took off running into the forest. 

You ran until your lungs burned and ran some more. All around you were trees, trees, and more trees. Everything looked the same yet you didn’t recognize where you were. “Shit I should have been paying attention on the way here. Where the fuck am I?”

Coming to a stop, you drop your hands to your knees to try and catch your breath. After a few deep breaths, you stand up tall and prepare to take off again, at a more reasonable pace this time that you’re far enough away.

But before you could head off, something flies into you and you go slamming back into a tree. A warm, hard body pushes up against you and holds you flush against the tree with no room to escape. It’s still too dark in the night and the trees are blocking the moonlight so you can’t see what has you pinned. You start wiggling around and try to use your hands to push yourself free but a hand wraps around your wrists and pins them above your head. Something comes close to your ear and you could feel the anger radiating from this figure.

“I thought I told you to stay.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #writing #peter pan x reader #peter pan #peter pan imagines #peter pan ouat #ouat fanfic #ouat fanfiction #ouat #ouat x reader #wendy #wendy darling

[elizais]

"so, for once in my life.. let me get what i want."

jouno saigiku x fem!reader drabble lovesick jouno, jouno NEEDS more fans other than me warnings: none all fluff, reader met jouno after he lost his vision

jouno desperately wanted to sleep, his body yearned for sleep.. but his mind was too crowded. how the beautiful lady was laying on the bed next to him, holding the stuffed animal he bought her based off of how soft it was when they first started dating.

her heartbeat was prettier than the sound of a choir of angels singing to him. a sound he could point out in a room full of thunderous voices. how could someone so kind choose him?

although he was content with all his other senses being heightened, he wished he met you before he lost his vision. how he would perfectly describe the colour of your eyes if he could.

every night it escaped him how you adored him more than anyone. how a soft stuffed animal was your replacement for him since cuddling was too overwhelming for his senses. how your sugary voice only referred to him as "sai". even when he was being frustrating.

why would he, a former criminal, be so fortunate for a person like you? who searched the ends of the earth (online websites) for replacements of his incredibly old clothes which he only kept because he knew what they looked like. when his favourite graphic tee got a rip in it you found another for him.

how when you were walking through the city with him you gasped as a car drove past, one that you really liked. "sai! y'know your old sweater with the old BMW on? one like that but green drove by!" a day out you must have long forgotten about yet he remembered very well as you went through great effort to explain what it looked like to him.

despite how much he hated tecchou's food combinations, when you met tecchou you tried your absolute best to like them. incredibly worried to earn the respect of your new boyfriend (at the time)'s colleagues. now whenever tecchou comes up with a new one tecchou tells jouno to tell you about it. jouno does not tell you.

perhaps it is the fact that you cut his hair when it gets too long for him to deal with. gently trimming it every couple of weeks.

maybe when you saw how mean he could be to the other hunting dogs you scolded him in front of them, his colleague's giggling as they found his weakness. you. now whenever he was being particularly nasty to them, you would get a phone call to out your boyfriend in his place.

perchance it was that you asked him what colour his eyes were after knowing him as a friend for a few months. although he never opened his eyes from light sensitivity, he made an exception for you. opening his eyelids and putting up with the harsh light for a few seconds as he heard your heartbeat speed up, admiring his eyes. albeit whatever they looked like now.

or, after a monthly surgery you would stay with jouno for the whole time he had to rest. jouno being so out of it he just wants to cuddle, something you cherish. he knows you adore those times so even when he starts to get his senses back, he will give you a few more hours of sleep with him on a small hospital bed.

his thoughts paused for a second as he heard your muscles contract as you changed sleeping positions. he heard the stuffed animal fall out of your arms as you rolled. he was too comfortable to get out of bed for it but noticed your arms looking for it in your sleep. he heard and felt the vibrations of your arm patting around for it on the bed.

he sighed before moving closer to you, quietly moving an arm out for your arms to hold onto instead. pulling his stray arm to your chest in your sleep, a quiet hum escaped your lips.

your arms wrapped around his bicep, something that pulled him closer to sleep after having his senses adjust to it. he would not bring this up in the morning.

with all those memories, he can't pinpoint when the moment he knew he loved you was. he was just happy he even knew you.

for once in his life, he had gotten what he wanted. lord knows it was the first time.

ughhhh he makes me so anhwahawbkhry4yiaw

the new bsd chapter coming out will have jouno ALIVE AND WELL. if not asagiri has me to respond to. no body no death. anyways everyone needs to write for the hunting dogs more please and thank you!!

jouno needs more fans like i know he is a bit of a red flag but red is the colour of my blogg soooo... match made in heaven <33

also did you see where i added perchance. you can't just say perchance!!

reblogs are appreciated so so so much!!

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #jouno saigiku #saigiku jouno #bsd jouno #bsd jouno saigiku #the hunting dogs #hunting dogs bsd #jouno x reader #jouno saigiku x reader #saigiku jouno x reader

[yaut-jaknowit]

Uihoy. cunnilingus, overstimulation, body worship, sappy stuff, lots of fluff

Right Here

Pairing: Uihoy (Male Yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Smut, cunnilignus, overstimulation, body worship, fluff, dirty talk.

Word Count: 3843

Summary: Man wants to eat you out and worship the ground you walk on. Let him.

Author Note: I'm slowly making my way through requests. Sorry, it's taking me some time. I'm working a lot at work to save up for new tires and rims for my truck.

Masterlist

Ao3

The lack of clothes adorning your body once made you feel completely exposed and unworthy in the face of either of your mates. Two highly skilled hunters who actively worked their bodies to perfection. All in the name of the hunt. And here you were, a human among gods.

From countless days, weeks, probably months at this point, they’ve slaughtered any doubt that would sprout their ugly head. As a human, it was a natural feeling. The urge to scoop your clothes back from the ground and cover what you had exposed to them was dominating. Your skin prickled as those bright, nearly glowing yellow eyes of Uihoy drank in the sight of you.

Uihoy’s hands twitched at his sides but he was patient. A hunter, born and bred. The picture before him is something he’s seen countless times before. His cock still stirred with pumping blood in its sheath.

Those piercing orbs of his noticed up the slightest tense of your muscles, eyes darting between the clothing you once wore. Fabric Vic’tao and him have collected and crafted for you.

Now, the male takes the chance to step forward and knelt down at your feet. A renowned hunter in a large clan back on Yautja Prime kneeling before a human. His knees cracked at the motion and new position but he stayed. This is where he wanted to be. Before his mate, on his knees, about to worship not only the ground you walked upon but your body itself. He was going to hunt down those despicable thoughts and tear them from your mind.

This new angle had you timidly meeting his gaze. But only for a fleeting second before you tilted your head to the side and more down.

Well-worn hands cupped your hips. The Yautja was now face to chest with you on his knees. He felt the way your body jolted at the touch but otherwise stayed standing.

You placed your palm on his shoulder for support within the raging storm brew inside of you. Purple hands started to trail up, teasing up your sides then moving inward to your chest. Your bottom lip was caught between dull teeth while the only thing you could do was watch.

Massive hands palmed at your breasts. Two fingers gently pinched the outer circle of your nipple. Uihoy leaned forward and let his tongue dart out to flick over the darker skin. Your knees shook at the first touch of the day.

A deep groan started from the depths of Uihoy’s chest. “Uihoy cannot say much within ooman language but pauk, let Uihoy lavish these for hours and will die a happy mate,” the Yautja purred and gave the other breast the same attention. He gently twisted the other nipple in his digits and pulled a stuttering gasp from your torn lips.

Despite knowing those same teeth have shredded throats for the sake of a trophy, he cupped one breast in his bottom mandibles. That hand holding it up drifted to your sides, claws raking over ribs. It went to your back and slid down to grab the globe of one of your ass cheeks.

With a jolt, you tensed at the new feeling. Then, the touch continued a path down your thigh and teased the soft skin that made up the back of them. Your knees wobbled, mind growing faint from all the different fleeting touches. It grew hard to focus on all that he was doing to you. “U-Uihoy,” you whispered the name in the dimly light bedroom.

Uihoy hummed and sent vibrations up to your nipple. You mewled, nails digging into his shoulder for better support. The other hand ran its course through your hair a few times before finding its way into the thick dreads of Uihoy’s grey tresses.

All of his touches tighten on your body. The forked tongue laving at your nipple pressed harder before he pulled away and began the same treatment on the other one.

As this went on, Uihoy took in the thicken scent of your arousal trailing into the air. He could taste it wafting around him in a teasing manner. Yet, the male held strong and kept his slow, steady pace. His prize would wait. The longer it sat, the better the reward would be.

Once the two breasts received the same amount of attention in his opinion, Uihoy pulled back. His hands returned to hold to each one. You whimpered at the lost of contact and tugged on a dread for him to return. Uihoy grunted. Your chest was heaving from the excitement entering your blood stream. He nearly grinned at how needy you looked before him. Instead, he placed his hands behind your knees.

You didn’t know what had happened until your mind caught up. Now, on the ground with Uihoy hovering over you, all you could do was stare dazedly up at the purple Yautja. He took the moment to lean down and lavish his tongue along the column of your throat and up to your jaw. “This body, this mind, little hunter, does so many things to Uihoy. Makes wanna ravish, to love, to bite, to claim forever. Leave no area unclaimed,” he uttered into the flesh of your neck.

Fatal teeth scrapped across your skin. You shuttered, throat vibrating with a high-pitched noise. “This skin is so incredibly soft. It feels amazing against Uihoy. Uihoy loves it.”

Heat flashed across your body, blood beginning to warm. His hands returned to touch at your hips, thumbs rubbing mindlessly. Uihoy left marks in his wake, creating his own art on your body. Blood was drawn to the skin but never dripping down to leave behind red rivets. “And the taste of little hunter on tongue,” he trailed off with a groan that rattle his chest. “Could live off of you alone if little hunter let Uihoy.”

His long, spilt tongue teased behind the shell of your ear. His purple face returned to your sight as he gazed down at your lying form on the shared bed. Those pools called eyes reflected the affection you held to your heart for him.

Mischief sparkling the yellow iris’. You didn’t have a moment to even come up with a single clue on why before he shift the two of you again.

Uihoy grasped at your hips and easily picked you from the ground. The Yautja himself laid down and settled you on his chest. Your hands rested in the transition area between those broad shoulders to his barrel chest. Your eyes were wide while you stared down at him in surprise. He grasped your hips and tugged you an inch towards his face. “Sit,” he commanded and pushed you again.

“On, on your face?” Your brows furrowed at the implication he was wanting. It’s not like you hadn’t let them eat you out before but never had you sat on their face before, let alone another person. Your doubts and insecurities gnawed at the sturdy ground you once stood on.

Dark talons dug into the flesh of your hips. “Tell Uihoy taste little hunter’s cunt. Now, sit.” You yelped quietly, still nervous to move forward before nodding your head to gain courage.

“Just… just tell me if it’s too much,” you warned Uihoy as you crawled forward and hesitated while on top of his throat. Uihoy huffed, tightened his hold then promptly picked you up and deposited you perfectly over his mouth. You tried to sit more up, scared that you were putting too much weight on him. “Uihoy!” But the male just grumbled at the call of his name.

Both of his arms hooked over your thighs and locked down to ensure you couldn’t escape. His upper mandibles were spread wide to curl over your thighs as well. The lower two were pressed carefully to the apex of your legs.

Vibrations rumbled up his throat. You felt them run across your skin and tingle your newly exposed folds. “Look at the sight. No one could pull Uihoy from this. Over dead body,” he snarled.

Your back bent to rest a hand on the ground beside his massive head but Uihoy growled. “Up! Stay up. Wanna see little hunter fall apart from tongue.” You caught your bottom lip between dull teeth.

He saw the way conflict rose in your magnificent eyes. One of his hands reached out twinge your fingers together. Yours slotted between his. Then, Uihoy returned to gripping your thigh. Your other limb slipped your digits under his palm to hold on for the rise. The Yautja purred his praised.

For a second, there is peace within the storm. You are able to relax your muscles. Uihoy squeezing your hand. A smile broke across your features while you stared down at him between your legs.

That peaceful expression was shattered. Your thighs tightened around his purple head when his tongue ran a path between your slickened folds. “The taste. Pauk. This is how Uihoy wants to die. Die happily here, underneath Uihoy’s stunning mate.” You gnawed more at your bottom lip at his words and tipped your head back. It was hard to keep your eyes on him. Embarrassment flooded your system.

A growl pierced the air. “Look down. Look at Uihoy, little hunter!” the male pleaded, claws biting into the flesh of your thighs.

You tilted your head back down to find his eyes. Uihoy purred once more and ran his tongue through your slick again. Your jaw dropped in a low groan, chest stuttering with breaths you struggled to take.

“Good,” he praised and began a alternating pace between your entrance to your clit.

All thoughts of doubt or shame were drowned, mind going blank only to think of the ecstasy building up inside. Your hands gripped his harder for purchase.

For the first time of the night, you bucked your hips to grind down on his tongue. It dipped inside of you. Uihoy felt the your walls fluttered around him at new sensation and groaned. More of your taste dripped down into his waiting mouth. He was going to consume you whole.

The lower two mandibles moved, his tongue halting for a moment. Your pathetic cry, hips rutting for more was a sight to behold. Uihoy tucked his mandibles into your folds then used them to expose every crevice to his sight. Including that little bud of nerves perched above your entrance. His tongue darted out to caress your clit soft.

Uihoy soaked in the sight of your reaction. The way your head snapped back, spin going rim-rod straight, and thighs threatening to crush his head. Your arousal drenched the better part of his mouth and chin, dripping down to soak the sheets under him. A scent he keep forever. And, the male didn’t relent the action. His muscle continuous lavishing at the nerves.

He could care little when you couldn’t look back down at him. The sounds you cried were music to his ears. Enough to make up for the loss of your eyes. The new wave of slick dripping into his mouth made up for the rest.

Between him teasing your entrance, sometimes daring to take a dip inside, and running his textured tongue over your completely exposed clit, you were boarding pain. It was a fine knife’s edge to walk on.

Tears welled up on your lash line, body beginning to shake. “Ui-Uihoy, it’s… it’s too much,” you sputtered, frame unsure on what to do.

In what little thoughts you could produce, you couldn’t tell if you wanted to push off of him or force him to never stop.

“Right here, Uihoy is right here. Gonna make little hunter come, okay? Need treasure to come,” he promised but never relenting his movements on your pussy. Your spin bent. You gaze back down at him, eyes completely glazed over. It was too much for you to handle. For any sane person to hold onto what little shard of their mind had. “Pauk, keep looking at Uihoy. Keep looking. Gonna taste little hunter. Want everything can give.”

From the depths of your mind, you didn’t know if you were going either explode or collapse. The coil in your belly was beyond what it could hold. Here, you were, teetering on the knife’s edge. “That’s it, treasure. Come for Uihoy.”

Down from the tips of your curled toes, all the way to your fuzzy thoughts, your body exploded. Your jaw dropped in a silent scream that would’ve echoed through the halls of the ship. Euphoric pleasure flooded every part of your body, filling up every crevice to the fullest. Your eyes glassed over, only able to focus on ecstasy that took over every thought.

After the peak, it was the fall. You began to drift down, mind calming from raging seas to smooth water lapping at sandy shores. Tears had ran their course down your face and left behind sticky, salty trails in their wake. Your chest heaved for cool air. You couldn’t help the whine that built up in your throat. The pleasure wasn’t fading.

Uihoy wasn’t done with you.

One of his hands, released your thigh and slipped between his face and your soaked cunt. You whined at the lost and weakly reached out to hold it again. Through your tears, you met his gaze again.

As you opened your mouth to speak, you felt a finger tease at your entrance. Your muscles instantly fluttered at the new sensation. “U-Uihoy,” you gasped, free hand coming to rest on the dome of his head.

The Yautja easily used what coated your cunt to lube his finger up before push only the first knuckle in. He relished in the feeling of you tightening around him, trying to suck in more. To which, he relented and thrust the rest of his middle finger in. A purr started up in chest at the feeling of muscles contracting down on him digit. “Treasure feels wonderful around me. So tight.” You panted and tried to jerk your hips for more but the arm hooking around one of your thighs prevented any movement.

When his tongue returned to lavish at your throbbing clit, you hiccupped a cry and shifted wildly on top of him. You didn’t know how to respond, body unsure if it wanted brunt through it or hop off. His name was uttered again like a breathless cry.

He took a moment to pull his tongue away. You believed to get some remorse but he placed his thumb on your clit and placed enough pressed to numb your mind. “What’s wrong, little mate? Uihoy said to take care of mate, did treasure think Uihoy wouldn’t follow through on that?” Unlike of him, he sounded to be mocking you in a caring manner.

Your free hand went to your mouth to bite at your knuckle. Uihoy curled his fingers and hit that spongey spot inside of you. Said limb slapped down on your thigh as you mewled out. “That’s more like it. Wanna hear every pauk-de sound little mate makes.”

The rough pad of his finger rubbing against you g-spot was enough to make you see stars. “I’m… I’m, not goin-ah, going to last long,” you rushed out the last few words.

The fingers intertwined with Uihoy’s dug into his palm for support. “Good.” His tongue returned to ravish your clit like his life depended on it. You keened, thighs tensing as if trying to push off of him. But Uihoy would never allow that. His hold was like steel and kept you trapped at his will.

In your practically blank mind, you cursed wildly and tried to hold on for however long possible. But the male was going to make you come again. Your brows furrowed and lifted as Uihoy pushed you up against the edge of the peak, the top of the world. Your chest shook with unsteady breaths. You tried to hold out, tried ease yourself into the orgasm. Uihoy did not. He shoved over the line with a curl of his finger and harsh lick.

“Fuck!” you screamed out into the empty ship. Tears soaked your cheeks. The scene around you shatter like ice on a lake. Sweat rolled down your back and chest. You licked at the little drop building up on your top lip as you gasped for breath.

You hunched over, hand on the sheets, and struggled to gather your senses. Tears dropped onto the bed below you. The pressure never ended though. Uihoy kept curling, pumping his finger, and licking at your clit. You sobbed and shakily reached for a tress.

Its rubbery texture was ignored while you attempted to pull the Yautja from between your legs. But he was glued, welded. Nothing could take him from this spot now.

The digit inside of you was pulled. You gave a brief sigh of relief and looked down at him through the tears. But the fire in those bright eyes was burning a bright blaze that had yet to diminish. “Uihoy,” you whispered, voice small as if afraid. Not of him but what else he had planned for you.

Instead of one, two fingers prodded at your folds and slowly slipped past to nuzzle deep. The new stretch had you thighs shaking, unable to move much. “I-I, fuck… Uihoy, I can’t. It’s, it’s too much,” you pleaded, knowing one word would stop him but not using it.

Those digits curled and hit that spot only two inches inside of you. Your head whipped back with a sob. “Yes, treasure can. Treasure wants to give Uihoy everything. Let m-me taste another, consume little hunter,” Uihoy rumbled and resumed to overstimulating you. A hunter who was relentless and wanted nothing more to bring you the pleasure you deserved. His mate, through and through.

Your loose hand trembled, not knowing where to go or where it could rest on. Your mind has gone numb, malleable for his hands to form into whatever he wanted. The purple Yautja grinned internally at the sight of his mate in such a state of disheveled. Clearly so eaten out they’ve gone dumb. All he had to do was do one of his favorite things in the world: eat their cunt out.

It was no time at all to feel the late stages of another orgasm roaring up this mountain. Fire had filled your veins long ago, never fully leaving after the first orgasm of the night.

The pain from the overstimulation was harsh at the base of your spine as it crawled up the length of you back. It hurt, but you loved it. Uihoy loved it. He was enamored with all the sounds you were creating. The sympathy you sang to him in praise from croaking noises to sobs when he pressed against that one spot particularly hard. It would make you clench down on his fingers, forcing you to feel how he filled you with just his fingers alone.

Curses flew from your mouth as you stumbled your way to the peak, getting dragged to the finish line. Those are the only words you could get out, too mindlessly to even think of letting Uihoy know. It’s not like he could feel the way your muscles were clenching harder and faster. He knows your body better than you probably know it at this point.

Similar to last time, you were kicked off the edge, hitting your peak softer this time. Your body had little left to give to Uihoy. With a grunt, you were nearly going to collapsed forward onto an arm when massive hands grasped at your sides.

In a daze, you hadn’t realized you had been laid down on the bed. A purple figure hovering over you, seen through your blurry gaze filled with tears.

“Uihoy knows, baby, Uihoy knows. Right here, just breathe,” Uihoy cooed softly into the still electrified air. You gave the softest mewls known to mankind and panted after the marathon he took you through. His hands petted down your slicken skin blanketed with sweat. He leaned down to nuzzle his head against your forehead.

“Did so good, so good. Love when little mate cries for Uihoy. Love the sounds. Love the taste. The feel of tight cunt around fingers…” he trailed off with a groan. The Yautja pulled back enough to peer into your glassy eyes. His fingers reached out and drifted along your jawline. “And these eyes. Want them to look into mine as little hunter falls apart on Uihoy’s tongue again. See the pleasure Uihoy brings little mate.”

With a shaky hand, you reached up and cupped his jaw. “I… I feel like jello.” Uihoy snorted a laugh and shook his head. His forehead was rubbed once more to yours. Both of his arms scooped under your weak body and pulled to his chest. Then, the male stood up and began to carry you over to the attached bathroom.

Somehow, with an unknown talent, Uihoy is able to hold you while he starts a bath. He sits down on the edge, legs hanging over into the filling tub with you cradled to him.

Starstruck and completely enamored with him, you kept staring up at him. The love and passion he just poured into you was, yes, a normal occurrence but not something you got used to. He always uses his words show his affection, to tell you everything he loved about you. Even if it wasn’t a place you cared for.

Once the bath filled to the top, Uihoy settled you down on one of the seats. He left you there to strip down to his bare skin, scars and all. You rested on your knees, arms crossed over on the ledge while you placed your head on top of them to watched the scene unfold. Your mate walked back over to you, body lax. You took note at the fact he hadn’t unsheathed, though his slit was wet.

“Oh baby,” you cooed and reached an arm to him. He had to be painfully holding it back.

The mentioned male raised a brow, head tilted as he got into the tub with you. “What’s the matter?” he questioned and gathered you into his lap to rest in the warm bath.

He positioned you do your back was to his chest. The water made it all the easier to reach back to tease at his slit. “I can hel-“ you were cut off when Uihoy snared your wrist pulled it away. His body went rigid for a moment before eased back down.

“It is alright, little one. Uihoy worn little hunter out the way I wanted. It was all about little mate and those beautiful noises made,” he purred and set his jaw on top of your head. He knew it annoyed you, but you let it happen.

“If you say so.” In the comfort of Uihoy’s protective, loving arms, you closed your eyes and enjoyed this warmth he offered to you freely. A never waning smile on your features.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #Uihoy

[rzyraffek]

Slashers with y/n that just gets along with everything

Like slasher could litteraly kill somone near y/n and she would be like alr alr whats really important is that you are happy🤠😎. Im sorry that first 2character had super long headcanons while last ones have way less :( I had no ideas Request open!

Billy Lenz

He always expects some sort of negative response when he calls people and when he heard new voice on the Phone he got even more exited cuz new person new reaction! He totally didnt expect her to just go "yeah yeah sure buddy, anyways... how is your day man? Cuz im so so tired...*starts normal converstation*

He probably tries to stay in character but he is so caught of Guard he doesnt know how to react really (hehe the table has turn)

Now he kinda hopes that she will pick up cuz shes very intresting😈 billy likey

"Ew its this creep again! He is asking for you y/n? Of please dont tell me you befriended him??" "So what? He said hes favourite fruit is strawberry he cant be that bad!" *billy saying slurs on the phone*

You need to constantly tell him that, no Billy no harrasing women isnt sexy, you arent quirky, you are mentally ill

"Y/n i killed that bitch that was gossiping about you ��� " "👍good for you billy im glad you found healthy way to cope with that negative emotion😇" "on god"

His whole moral compass is created around the simple question 'does it hurt y/n?' .1:no it doesnt so feel free to do it .2 do not do it, she will ban Billy from sweets (bad ending)

The man from hush

This guy. This dude. This Little gremlin. He is upset that he gets no reaction! Like please oh please act all angy when he 'acidently' shot tire in her car! But oh no ofc no, she had to be like "oh its okay honey i have backup in garage🥰" hes like HHUH SINCE WHEN WE HAVE GARAGE

Like tbh thats how i imagine how they met: he saw her, he wanted to hunt her, she was so chill that she didnt even leave her household while the power was off and he went inside and just saw her having lil nap on couch. 🧍🤨erm exuse me gurl im trying to roleplay epic hunter here tf

He probably kidnaped her cuz she was too weird to just kill her but he didnt want to risk her calling police. He probably tied her up and yeeted her on backseats. And then she begun judging music on the radio"yo big guy can i get some good music taste?" "What? Whats wrong with Taylor Swift?"

He will overshare everything to kinda check where is her limit if it comes to being chill "yeah so i killed this old lady.." "im sure you had good reason🥰" "🤨... anyways... yeah so i was drinking some redbull when some guy said i look ugly so i shoot his head off and-" "HEY HEY hold up geez you CANT drink Energy drinks?? Bestie you know it is unhealthy?? Also you like hunt for sport it will ruin your condition!? How you gonna shoot people with shakey hands?? You crazy or something?" "Damn😔"

Micheal myers

I tried to put him here but i realised he will be as chill as her.

Like he can give her gifts covered in blood and she' just going to clean it and wear it like nothing happened or completley ignore it

He cares about this stuff as much as y/n so like not at all. I mean tbh theres is a bit of difrence: shes at least positive about it! Like "yeah micheal go for it, love🥰😇 i know its hard to cope with trauma take it all out alr?" Shes trying to be a good supporting gf not her fault she never had serial killer bf!

Brahms Heelshire

He lives for attention! What do you mean the war crime he commited this lunch break is okay!?!? Baby pleasee

But this negativity disapears the moment he realised he can get a lot of positive attention when he will do some nice stuff! "Oh honey I didnt kill any rats today" "oh that's amazing brahms I'm sure you and the rats inside walls will get along well soon🥰" (rats in walls bully brahms)

Please complement him or he will get a tantrum and destroy something

Brahms and rats have very hard past i might do seperate hc about that

Ghostface

"Look babe! My newest victim *shows photo*" "ugh baby...😰 you NEED to buy new camera or watch some youtube tutorials about how to take good photos" "aw man whats wrong with my pictures 😔"

Otherwise y/n supports his hobbies! People need to grow😇 (and he needs to grow up)

If theres 2ghostfaces(like in most movies) they will bet money on how long you gonna keep this 'do whatever as long as youre happy' act. Well they didnt know that this wasnt an act but her personality

Also they will probably try to use this chillnes aginst her like "oooh y/n something terrible happened! I crushed my car oh what will i do!" "Alr bestie i will drive you over there😇" "😈omg you are so nice i totally didnt expect that(heheh i dont need to pay for gas today (hes very evil))

#slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #brahms heelsire #brahms x reader #micheal myers #micheal myers x reader #ghostface x reader #ghostface #hush headcanon #hush 2016 #hush x reader #the man x reader

[xinmin-exe]

Attack On Titan characters as Parents

Note: I haven't really watched attack on titan in years, so I'm sure all of these characters are gonna be OOC ALSO i am making it so everyone survived in the end and they all got their happy ending because these babies deserve it

WARNINGS: fem!reader, brief mentions of past trauma, mentions of miscarriage, very brief mention of the birthing process,

Eren

Eren was so traumatized after what his father did, he almost had a break down when you told him you were pregnant. It took him a couple weeks, and many, many late night talks with Armin until he was willing to try to be there for you. Eren was so nervous and worried he was going to be just like his father but the moment he saw his kid, everything just clicked. He was so gentle with them and always made time to talk and play with them during the day. As they got older, their bond grew even closer as Daddy and Aunt Mikasa took them out hunting every couple of weeks. Eren is an amazing father who despite everything he went through, made damn sure to do better for his child.

Armin

Armin never imagined having children, it just wasn't something he saw in his future. that was, until you came into his life and changed everything. When your little bundle of joy was born, Armin was in tears. He couldn't help but admire them and want to give them everything. Since then, Armin has done everything to nurture their ideas and passions. He even took them to the sea and let them play around. He wanted them to grow up with everything he couldn't have (aka, parents) so he did everything he could to stick around. Armin turned down multiple high government positions just to stay close to you and his child. Armin is the parent we all need in our lives.

Mikasa

When you approached Mikasa with the idea of wanting to adopt, she was speechless. Ever since her parents were killed, she never thought about having children. However, she loved you so much that she wanted to at least try. After all, she wasn't exactly motherly (at least that's what she will tell people) When Hange introduced you two to a young child (maybe 5 or 6) from the underground Mikasa's heart melted. She saw herself in this child so much that her protective instincts kicked in. She was so protective of this child, no one, and i mean no one besides you could be left alone with them. Even if it was armin or Eren, Mikasa was always in the room, one second away from glaring the other person into the next century. Mikasa really warmed up to the idea of being a parent and fit into the role well.

Jean

Jean was the one of the only in the group who wanted to still have kids. He knew what he wanted from life and was damned if some suicidal maniac was going to stop him. So when you were giving birth, Jean made sure he was right next to you, holding your hand and encouraging you the entire time. Even though you did scream at him "this is your fault! If i live through this i am going to KILL you Kirstein!" (the nurses thought that it was funny) But once your child was here, nothing else mattered. Once you were able to leave the hospital and go home, all Jean did was take your kid around and show off. Constantly saying "look at what i did" or "aren't they just gorgeous like their mom?" He always had something to brag about (even if the thing wasn't brag worthy), to Jean, anything your child did was amazing. Jean is very much the parent to scream at the back of the room while their kid is performing and embarrass the shit out of them.

Connie

Connie hadn't given having kids much thought. Afterall, he didn't even know if he'd be surviving long enough to be given that option. But once you told him you were pregnant, he was over the moon! Connie didn't let you move a muscle, ever. You need something from the top shelf? He's getting the stepstool. You want some food? He's already getting the ingredients out. And when you went into labor, he was right by your side. He let you squeeze his hand as hard as you needed to, and he made sure you were given everything possible to make birth as comfortable as it could be. Connie was so overwhelmed with love once he laid eyes on your child, the only time he let you hold them was when they needed to be fed. Connie got up to soothe them during the night, claiming it was the least he could do since you went though the pain of giving birth. Connie was there at every single milestone for their life, and he was never, ever going to stop being there for them; or for you.

Sasha

Oh boy, Sasha is the cool mom. When you two first adopted your child, she was admittedly a little awkward around them. But, after many late night snacks and a few bad cooking experiences, Sasha blossomed into a wonderful mom. She made sure they were eating properly and always had snacks on her. Your kids friends know that they will eat good when Sasha is around, and you two have become THE family. Sasha does tend to spoil them and say "yes" practically every time they ask for something, but they never try to manipulate that. You and Sasha both make sure your kid is kind and humble and thoughtful. With Sasha at your side, nothing is impossible and raising a child together was the best decision you two ever made.

Levi

Levi initially turned down the idea of having kids. Claiming that he was not fit to be a father, but fate wasn't having it. When you found out you were pregnant, you were worried to tell Levi. You knew he didn't want kids and you had grown to be content with that. What would he say when he found out? Would he leave you? Those thoughts sent you spiraling when Hange eventually let the cat out of the bag. Levi was silent but you could see in his eyes that was he happy. Even though he didn't want kids, he knew he wanted you. If that meant having to raise another brat then so be it. At first, he did the basics, changed their diapers, fed them, etc. But he never truly bonded with them until they were older and confided to Levi that they felt like an outsider looking in. He listened and did his best to offer advice and words of wisdom that might help. From then on, Levi was so much more involved and made sure that they were getting the life they deserved.

Erwin

Erwin was possibly the most excited to be a father. After everything, when things began settling down he approached you with the idea of trying for kids. At first you were the hesitating one, but Erwin was able to convince you to at least think about it. After a while, you were on board and baby, he got to work. It was along road, you had a miscarriage and that was demoralizing. Erwin made sure to support you the entire time. He understood that you may not want to try again and he was okay with that. It took you a year or so after for you to want to try again. But eventually, with enough effort and support, you gave birth to a beautiful baby. Erwin was in love with your child the moment he laid eyes on them. He spoiled them as much as he could, whenever he could. He was a dotting husband, and even more dotting father.

Hange

Oh boy, Hange is.. enthusiastic to say the least. They see it as a new experiment, at first. Hange takes your pulse every day, they measure how much you eat as well as your weight. When you gave birth, they were overwhelmed. There was a beautiful little bundle wrapped up in your arms and all Hange wanted was to hold them. Hange was so careful that you almost had to do a double-take. They held your child so gently, like glass. From then on, it was like the whole world vanished for them. They prioritized being there and being a parent over anything. Hange recorded all the milestones (first steps, first word, first tooth, etc) but they also recorded every other moment (like when they babbled for the first time, or when they first rolled over). But to Hange, they were all important moments.

#attack on titan #eren yeager #eren x reader #armin arlert #armin x reader #mikasa ackerman #mikasa x reader #jean kirstein #jean x reader #connie springer #connie x reader #sasha braus #sasha x reader #levi ackerman #levi x reader #erwin smith #erwin x reader #hange zoe #hange x reader #aot #fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin

[written-in-flowers]

Traditions and Expectations: Pt. 1

Pairing: Aegon II x SisterWife!Reader

Genre: fluff, smut, slice of life

Word Count: 7k

Summary: It is Targaryen tradition for brother to wed sister, as you'd done with Aegon. But with no eligible son for your daughter, you've had to look elsewhere for a betrothal. The question is whether to abide by Targaryen traditions or allow your child to follow her heart?

Tags: chubby!aegon, domestic life, arranged marriages, canon-typical incest, brother-sister marriage, mother/daughter themes, family expectations, hubby/wifey stuff, smut, vaginal fingering, breast play, nipple play, multiple positions.

Tagged: @lovelykhaleesiii

***

Your mother decided you'd be Aegon's wife on your fourteenth nameday. It is customary in Valyrian tradition for the eldest son to marry his eldest sister. As Targaryens, one of the last families who escaped Valyria's downfall, you followed this tradition despite societal and religious norms in Westeros. You being the eldest daughter and Aegon being the eldest son, the betrothal was set and you'd be married when you both reached maturity. Your entire life people  knew you'd marry Aegon. It was simply a fact you'd known growing up. 

But, unlike your mother, you will not have it as easy.

You sat in the cushioned chair on your veranda which overlooked the small courtyard outside Maegor's Holdfast, and pondered on marriage. Down below, your eldest child, Daella, practiced her archery skills on targets in the training yard. Thirteen with cascading lengths of silver hair, Daella had beauty, brains and brawn. She stood tall and slender, a petite waist cinched by a leather belt. She is the epitome of beauty, but also strong and bold. It did not matter how many times you scolded her for wrestling with the stableboys and firing off arrows, Daella still did it. It got to a point that you gave into her adventurous nature, letting her ride off on hunts with her grandfather and uncle and take up archery. 

You watched her taking out arrows from her cloth target, and wondered if her husband will let these passions flourish. Many Westerosi men dislike women who take on "men's sports' '. To them, ladies of noble status should stick to dancing and reading poetry, not participating in archery challenges and learning how to skin animals after a kill. Having a bride who can out-ride and out-shoot them might displease them, therefore ruining any chance of a betrothal. Were your eldest son, Baelon, born first and Daella second, they'd be undoubtedly matched. But Daella is much older than Baelon, who is your third child. Vaelen, your second boy and fourth child, is not a suitable match either. You and your mother concluded that Saera, your second child, would marry Baelon. Vaelen will likely marry the baby in your belly, or another noblewoman. 

This means you need to find a husband for Daella. Most noble marriages are political ones, so naturally you'd want a lord that is close to The Crown and doesn't mind marrying a dragonrider. On the table beside you, you looked at the four scrolls you'd received today. You'd spent ages pouring over the different noble houses in Westeros, searching in vain for a husband that would please your daughter. She wouldn't marry just anyone. You told your mother you wanted Daella to have a happy marriage. You wanted her to experience the love and warmth you often felt with Aegon. In the end, it came down to four possible suitors.

Fourteen-year-old Tymond Lannister was a nephew of Lord Tyland, current Master of Coin. Lord Tyland told you all about his handsome nephew who could wield a sword, battle ax and morningstar. A boy like him, he said, could handle the fiery Daella. His father, Lord Jason, agreed to a possible marriage between his son and Daella. It would benefit both parties: The Lannisters are one of the wealthiest families in Westeros. Having them tied by marriage will ensure the wealth of the kingdom stays intact. 

Twelve-year-old Osric Arryn is the younger cousin of Lady Jeyne Arryn. You heard about his jovial and tender hearted nature from people around him. A husband with a soft heart but a firm hand might intrigue Daella. Lady Jeyne’s reply alluded to them coming to terms over her dowry. Another good match for Daella and the family. The Arryns have a large army as well as The Eyrie, an impenetrable fortress. She will be well protected and cared for there, which mattered to you greatly. 

Thirteen-year-old Edmure Tully is the auburn haired, freckled, strong man you thought Daella may like. You'd seen the boy once at a tourney, standing much taller than most his age with a man's body starting to grow. Being her age, she might relate to him better. His father, Lord Grover, told you while Edmure might seem hard on the outside, he had a heart of gold. A marriage pact with House Tully brings more security to them in the Riverlands. 

All three of them accepted. All three of them are good matches. Yet, it is not these that give you pause. It was the fourth scroll that still remained unopened. You saw the aquamarine seal with the Velayron seahorse stamped in the middle, and hesitated. It had been several years since you’d last seen your nephews, Jacaerys and Lucerys. Since then, Jace has become Heir to the Iron Throne and Prince of Dragonstone, married to Baela Targaryen. Luke lives on Driftmark alongside Lord Corlys, his grandfather, and his bride-to-be, Rhaena Targaryen. 

It cannot be Luke who has reached out to you. You’d recalled hearing about Jace and Baela having children of their own. Admittedly, you couldn’t get the children’s names straight but you knew they had a boy and two twin girls. You picked up the unopened scroll, and rolled it between your fingers. Glancing back into the yard, Daella had switched from archery to axe-throwing. Ser Criston told you she’d become intrigued by it after seeing a man doing it at a tourney for your wedding anniversary. You only asked her to use the smaller ones to avoid injuries. Jace and Baela’s son must be her age. Your father received the news around the time you’d given birth to Daella. But, you might have that information wrong. 

“Ah, there you are, my love.”

Aegon appeared from behind you, hands behind his back and a grin on his face. He gave you a soft peck on the cheek, and took the chair opposite you. A maid served him a cup of wine, which he drank from right away. You continued staring at the scroll in your hand, afraid to open it. You know what will be written inside. No doubt it was your sister, Rhaenyra’s, idea. A part of you considered the idea since Rhaenyra will one day be queen, and with Prince Daemon at her side, your entire family may be at risk. 

“How are the children?” he asked you, looking down into the yard where his sons trained with Ser Criston. 

“Fine. Daella’s aim is improving impressively,” you answered absentmindedly, not fully focused on him. 

“Hm,” he nodded, “Vaelen’s swing is improving as well. I know he mopes about his sword training, but I told him it’s important for the sword to be as sharp as the mind.” 

“Aegon.”

“Wife?”

“Jacaerys…He has a son, doesn’t he? I remember Father mentioning it once or twice before.”

“He does,” he said cautiously, holding a cheese cube in his hand. “I believe his name is…Gods, what is it?” he racked his brain for a moment, then said, “Aerys? Aenys? I don’t remember exactly. It starts with an ‘Ae’. Why do you ask?”

“I received a raven from Baela this morning,” you told him. 

He popped the cube in his mouth, then actually looked over at you. Seeing the worry on your face, he asked, “And what does it say?” 

“I am not certain,” you said. “I haven’t opened it yet.”

He picked up the scroll from Lord Jason, read it, then said, “Marriage proposals?” 

“From Lannister, Arryn and Tully,” you told him. “They all agreed to make terms.”

“And that one is from Baela?”

“Yes,” you showed him the small paper with its seahorse seal. 

“You wrote to them?” he asked, bemused. 

“I had not. It came this morning with the others.” 

Aegon looked at you, then said, “Are you going to read it?”

“I can’t,” you said, shooting out your hand to him, “You read it.”

“Darling, I do not see what the harm is in reading a letter,” he chuckled. Aegon took the scroll from you, and broke the seal. Your stomach churned when he read the first word, “Dear Princess YN, I hope this letter finds you and your family well. My sister, Rhaena, informed me that you and Aegon are making plans for a marriage pact for your daughter, Daella. As you know, Jacaerys and I have a boy who is her age named Aeron-Ah, yes, that’s the boy’s name!-” Aegon snapped his fingers with a satisfied smile, “I propose a marriage between our two houses. I understand the relationship between our families has been detached for several years. But, I have very fond memories of our youth, and I hope with this union we can begin to repair that breakage between us. My lord husband and I will be arriving in King’s Landing in a fortnight for Prince Baelon’s birthday tourney-Who told them about it? Did you?”

“Certainly not. It must’ve been Father or Rhaenyra.”

“Hm, I suspect as much. ‘I will be more than happy to discuss possible terms with you then. I eagerly await your response. Signed, Baela.’ Hmpf, how informal of her.”

‘Memories of our youth’. What memories? When Luke cut out your younger brother’s eye and never received punishment? When Luke and Jace teased Aemond for not having his own dragon? All the numerous times that your father favored Rhaenyra and any of her offspring over you and your siblings? You’d gone your entire life being told that when Rhaenyra ascended the throne, your family was a challenge to her rule. The eldest of Viserys’s children from his first wife, he’d proclaimed Rhaenyra his heir. When Aegon was born, he should’ve immediately been named heir to the throne, but he wasn’t. Now, Aegon showed no interest in being king and never mentioned a desire for it. But, with her husband Prince Daemon in her ear, Rhaenyra might feel threatened by Aegon and his four children. 

Your children. 

Not only your children, but your sister, Helaena, and brother, Aemond, too. Their children, twins Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, young Maelor, and baby Rhaenor.

Your uncle and Rhaenyra’s husband, Prince Daemon, is not well known for his kindness. 

“What is your decision, love?” Aegon asked you, putting the letter with the others. “Marry our daring Daella to one of these lords or the unremarkable son of Jacaerys Velaryon?”

You looked out to the yard once more. Daella stomped her foot in frustration as her axe missed the target completely. A picture of Daella meeting Aeron and finding him insufferable came to mind. Your daughter got along well with most girls and boys she met, being sociable and charming to everyone. But, when she did not like someone, she made it very obvious. Sometimes too obvious. What if she met Aeron and disliked him? On the other hand, what if she didn’t? It’d be ideal for everyone involved. It is the most obvious choice. Everyone will say so. So, why were you so hesitant to say ‘yes’?

“I want her to be happy, Aegon,” you told him softly. “I want her to find love and happiness as we have. I don’t want her shackled to a man she isn’t at least fond of; having children out of duty instead of desire.”

“I am afraid, my dearest,” he took your hand gently in his, “That our union is incredibly rare in this family.”

“That’s not true,” you replied, finding comfort in his touch, “There is Aemond and Helaena as well.” 

“Alright, then somewhat rare.” 

“Mother, Mother!” 

A voice caught your attention from behind and you turned to see Saera appear. In a dress of cream and gold, she reminded you of princesses in fairytales. Her silver curls tied into a simple plait down her back, her violet eyes struck most people immediately. So much like her father’s, but he insisted she resembled you. Saera, eleven years old, came rushing up to your husband, and sitting in his lap. She beamed at you as she spoke. 

“I had my dress fitting for Baelon’s nameday,” she said. “Grandmother helped me pick out the colors for it.”

“Oh, was that today, love?” you asked her, slightly disappointed. You looked over your shoulder to see your mother walking in after her, in a gown of emerald green and black. Her signature Hightower color. “Mother, why did you not say anything?”

“You had more important matters at hand,” she answered, kissing the top of your head before taking up a wine cup. She spotted the letters on the table. “Any agreements?”

“They all accepted,” you told her. “There is one that has surprised me, however.”

“Oh? Who?”

You handed her the letter, “Baela Velaryon. She and Jace have a son Daella’s age.”

“Is Daella getting married?” asked Saera, who took up a bread with strawberry preserves on it.

“Not yet,” Aegon told her, playfully taking a bite of her bread to which she whined. “But, your sister is of age for betrothal and your mother has insisted we decide this very second who it will be.”

“It does not need to be ‘this very second’,” you replied. “I have received responses from Lords Lannister and Tully, as well as Lady Arryn. Any of their sons would make a suitable match for Daella, and their alliance could benefit our house. But then, I received Baela’s proposal.”

“And it gives you Pause.”

“It does.”

“Why, Mother?” asked Saera, smearing jam around her mouth as she finished her bread.

“It is complicated to explain, dove,” you told her kindly. “You’ll understand when you are older.”

“Saera, love,” Aegon said, lifting her from his lap, “Why don’t you go with Dyana to see your cousins, hm? I’m sure Jaehaera would love to see your doll collection.”

“Why can’t I stay?” she moped, getting off his lap but not leaving. “I want to know who Daella’s going to marry.”

“You’ll hear about it when we’ve made a decision, alright?” he promised, kissing her forehead. “Now, go. Dyana…”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Saera reluctantly left with the maid, and left the three of you alone. “Father will approve of the match highly,” you told her, returning to the conversation at hand, “And so will Rhaenyra. I bet anything this was all her doing.”

You thought about your elder half-sister. Rhaenyra was the daughter of Gemma Arryn, your father’s first wife. When she passed, King Viserys assumed he’d never remarry or have more children, so he named Rhaenyra heir to the throne. But then, he wedded your mother, Alicent Hightower. Any sensible king would’ve saved everyone the headache and named Aegon heir, but not your father. He valued Rhaenyra and her bastard sons more than any of his other children. He’d never do or say anything against her, no matter how severe the crime. You bitterly remember the night Aemond lost his eye in a fight with Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena. Your father should’ve demanded an eye for an eye or at least a serious punishment be dealt. But no. He told them to apologize and leave it at that. He’d never do anything to upset his precious Rhaenyra. It’d broken your heart when you visited your father’s sick bed, hoping to read to him, and in a medicated haze he’d called you ‘Rhaenyra’. When she had Jace, Luke and Joffrey, it became obvious they are not true Velaryons. They did not have the skin or hair of their father, Lord Laenor, but instead the coloring of Ser Harwin Strong. Commander of the City Watch.

This only soured the relationship between your families.

That resentment in you did not want your eldest daughter, your first born child, married to Rhaenyra’s grandson. Yet, the looming threat of Prince Daemon crossed your mind. If his grandson married your daughter, Rhaenyra will no doubt cherish any children they have.

“Princess Rhaenyra means well,” your mother said, taking Aegon’s seat when he offered it to her. “She will be our queen one day, whether we wish for it or not. I do not need to remind you that Prince Daemon-”

“-I know, Mother,” you cut her off, not wanting to hear it out loud. “Rhaenyra…She is quite lovely to the children…”

“She adores them,” she agreed. She paused for a moment, “She put forward the coin for Saera’s and Daella’s nameday gowns.”

“What?” This caught both you and Aegon off guard.

“She has?” asked Aegon.

“She has,” she nodded. “She said princesses of the realm should always be dressed in fine splendor.” She looked between the both of you, then back to you, “YN, listen to me. Do not make the mistakes I have made when it comes to your children-”

“-Mother, you’ve never-”

“-I have,” she insisted. “Don’t pass down whatever grievances you have with Rhaenyra’s family to your children. They’re young. They should be playing and growing alongside their cousins, not being separated from them. A marriage between Aeron and Daella might work out for everyone.” When she saw you and Aegon unconvinced, she said, “Besides, it is tradition. The King will insist upon it should Rhaenyra bring it up.”

You wondered where this advice came from. During your girlhood, your mother constantly grumbled about ‘Rhaenyra’s sons’ and their baseborn features. It’d been her who often questioned their birth in private. Yet, since Rhaenyra’s return to King’s Landing, you noticed the pair becoming much closer these days. You’d spotted them walking in the gardens, sharing meals together, and working together to better the kingdom. You wondered what transpired to bring about this forgiveness and unity. Perhaps you can do the same. You gingerly accepted back Baela’s letter, and thought on it more. Baelon’s tenth nameday celebration would be in two weeks. You had plenty of time to think over your answer.

“Invite them all,” Aegon declared, picking at more cheese on the table.

“Invite who?”

“Lannister, Arryn, Tully, and Velaryon,” he said. “Daella can meet all their sons and see if she likes any of them.” Neither you or your mother said anything, he went on, “You said you wanted Daella to find love and happiness. She can only do that if she’s given multiple options instead of one. You’ve always been the romantic one out of us, and what is more romantic than finding love at a tourney?”

“Aegon…”

“YN, you know Daella. If we tell her to go left, she goes right. If we tell her the sky is blue, she’ll tell us it’s green,” he continued. “If we happen to invite all these suitors, she might take to one of them on her own.”

“She’ll suspect something.”

“She won’t if we all keep it to ourselves,” he responded with a smirk. You sometimes forget your husband’s cunning nature. 

“Aegon has a point,” your mother told you. “Invite them all and we will see if she takes to any of them.” 

You mulled it over in your mind, then nodded, “Yes. That seems the best route for this.”

“Ah! You fool, that hurt! Father!”

Vaelen’s contemptuous voice came from down below, and you saw your youngest sprawled on the ground at his brother’s feet.

“Well, get up and hit him, Vaelen,” Aegon called back.

“I’m tired!”

“Your opponent isn’t going to care,” he said. He grunted and put down his wine cup. “Time for me to intervene,” he looked over at you, “Write to them and personally invite them. Have the seamstress make her a special gown, and the jeweler can fashion a tiara for her. Something golden with rubies. Maybe sapphires or emeralds to stand out-”

“-I will see it is done, Husband,” you laughed, “Go see to your sons.”

He kissed you one more time before going down to the yard. Aegon lifted Vaelen to his feet, handing his sparring sword back to him, and spoke to Ser Criston. 

You spotted Daella standing with Aemond, who was helping her pick out a selection of knives instead of axes. Aegon was right. A strong-willed girl like Daella won’t accept a marriage pact because she’s told to do so. If you wanted her to have a happy marriage, she’d need to find it on her own.

“I know you don’t like to admit it,” your mother began, drinking from her wine cup, “But Aegon is right.”

“Mother, how did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Decide Aegon and I would be right for one another. At any point during our childhood, you could have decided to not marry us, but you did.”

Your mother stared at you for a moment, then she confessed. “I did not decide right away,” she told you. Seeing your raised eyebrows, she nodded, “Yes, that is a myth. I told your father I wanted to wait before announcing your betrothal. It’s a Valyrian tradition to wed brother to sister, so it made the most sense. But looking back on my own marriage and marriages of those around me, I was hesitant on my decision. I didn’t want my daughter to suffer a loveless marriage, never knowing true companionship or romance. I worried you might end the same way as I did with Aegon.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Aegon used to bawl his eyes out whenever we took you into another room. Your wet nurse would set you on the ground, and you’d immediately crawl over to him. As you grew, I saw how you behaved around one another. You enjoyed each other’s company over people at court. You spent nearly every waking moment together and refused to be apart for more than a few hours.” She smiled softly, looking out into the yard, “One day, I sat up here with your father while your brothers trained in the yard. You came out with Helaena, and you stood right there,” she nodded to an open spot that overlooked the yard, “And watched him. You didn’t say anything, or make yourself known to him. You simply watched him with this soft smile on your face, full of complete content.”

You nodded, vaguely remembering a day similar to that. “Then he noticed me there,” you finished for her. 

“And the smile that you both shared,” she grinned, “Made up my decision. You stared at one another, fondness and love in your eyes. He then said, ‘Princess, my opponent begs for mercy. I shall make it your decision to spare him or deny him.’”

“And then I said to show him no mercy,” you laughed, remembering a young Aegon, long-haired and skinny, standing where Baelon did now. 

“Aegon would do anything you asked of him,” she said. “Daella will find a similar love one day. Whether it be with one of the suitors or someone else entirely, she will have it.” 

“Mother, did you see that?!” Daella’s voice called from the yard, beaming at you excitedly. “I hit the center! Look!”

You saw the thin blade stuck halfway into the target, and smiled at her, “Wonderful, darling. You’ll be an expert with your uncle’s instruction.” 

She went back to her knife throwing, and you put aside any thought of arranged marriages and family feuds for the moment. You did have a nameday to plan, and invitations to send out. 

“What does Saera’s gown look like?” 

****

Knights, hedge knights, sellswords, and lords came from all over to attend Prince Baelon’s nameday tournament. You spent days planning feasts and gatherings that will happen throughout the week. Not only did each day have its own competition and accompanying feast, but the final celebration included performances by singers and mummers, magicians and animal performers, and several courses. You told the small council you’d spare no expense for your son’s tenth nameday. It would be a nameday to rival them all. 

Yet, while handling all these duties with your pregnant belly, the thought of Daella’s marriage proposals loomed over your head. Neither you or Aegon brought up the subject around her, but she seemed to suspect a plot nevertheless.

“Lord Tyland visited the training yard this morning. He complimented my knife throwing skills,” she said to you at dinner the night before the tourney, “He said he couldn’t wait for me to meet his nephew, Tymond.”

“Well, he is very fond of his nephew, Daella,” your husband said first. “He talks about him as if he is the boy’s father. Perhaps he is hoping you two will meet and get along.”

“I wonder why he might have that idea,” she looked pointedly at you, “Mother?”

“The Lannisters have always been an ambitious family,” you told her. “Lord Tyland most likely hopes you will meet his nephew and grow fond of him. You are a Princess, after all. The King’s granddaughter and Prince Aegon’s daughter. Maybe he hopes a Lannister-Targaryen marriage would bring his family great fortune. Do not think anything of it, love.” 

“Mother, I am fully aware that I have flowered now and am of marrying age,” she said to you. 

“What does ‘flowered’ mean?” asked Baelon, chewing on string beans. 

“It means she’s a woman,” said Vaelen. “I read it in a book.”

“Boys,” Aegon hushed them. “Yes, darling, you have flowered and are of marrying age, but your mother and I don’t plan to marry you for a long time. I recall telling you never to grow up so then you’d never marry and leave me, but,” he shrugged, drinking his wine, “Here we are.”

“You may have flowered, but you are still too young for marriage in my book,” you added. 

“Not too young to make arrangements for me, though,” she retorted, cutting into a slice of beef and eating it. “Whoever he is, I won’t marry him.”

“Whoever who is?”

“Whoever you’ve both chosen for me,” she said. “I won’t do it. I don’t want to get married.”

“You are a princess of the realm,” you responded, “Marriages not only help politically but also continue our bloodlines and names. It is your duty as a princess and a Targaryen to marry to protect and continue-”

“-I don’t want to,” she snapped. “I won’t go through with it. I don’t want to get married to some stupid lordling who can’t find his backside with both hands.” 

“No woman does,” you told her, “But as women of the realm-”

“-Surely there is more to being a ‘woman of the realm’ than marrying and having babies,” she remarked. “Why must we be stuck in this one role in life when there is so much more we can offer? Look at all women throughout history. Princess Visenya. Princess Rhaenya. Nymeria of Dorne. Look at Nana. Look at Aunt Rhaenyra. They’re both on the King’s council and have his ear. They’ve contributed more to the world than having babies.”

“Nana only became the queen because she married the king,” you said. “Rhaenyra may be the heir, but she married Ser Laenor and had children of her own. All the women you named married and had children to continue their legacy. How can you expect to continue a legacy without marriage or children of your own? Do you plan to live forever?”

“I won’t get married,” Daella repeated, having no real answer to your question. 

“You will,” Aegon said more firmly, “We all have our part to play in this world and yours will be to marry.”

“No.”

“Yes.” 

“No.”

“Daella,” he groaned, “You are a princess. Some would say you’re born for this.”

“Was I now? I thought I was born because you and Mother wanted children; not because you must have them.”

“We did want to have you,” you implored her, “But it was also expected that we would. Daella, we’re not doing this to upset or hurt you. It is what every princess does: I did it. Helaena did it. Your sister will do it after you.”

“I don’t care who has done it before me,” she said, no longer focused on her meal. She stood up suddenly, “You can’t make me.”

“Daella…”

She spun around and left the hall. You leaned back in your chair, feeling dejected and defeated. Your eyes met Aegon’s. 

“Will I have to get married one day, Mother?” Saera asked you, pushing her vegetables around on her plate. 

“No,” Aegon said, “Because you vowed you’d never grow up and leave me. A Targaryen must keep to their word.” 

He tickled her side and the mood in the room lifted. Yet, Daella’s forceful words stuck with you. You knew she’d never take kindly to the idea of marriage. Your daughter is a free spirit, a bird that wishes to fly untethered to any solid thing. A part of you felt guilty tying that bird down, but it did not need to be so. Aegon’s warm hand taking up yours caught your attention. You met his eyes, and saw the softness in them. 

“I will speak with her,” he said, moving to stand. 

“No, no,” you shook your head, standing up before him. “I will speak to her. This is a woman’s conversation, Aegon.”

He conceded, nodding and returning to your other children. You bent to kiss him, then left the hall towards Daella’s bed chambers. Rays of moonlight still shone between the pillars coming from the open courtyard, a cool breeze coming in from the city. This did nothing to distract you from your worries. Daella seemed to believe marriage stood in the way of her future greatness. She needed to know that it is not so. As you reached her room, you heard the faint, melodic voice from behind the door. Singing. Daella’s light singing voice reached you and you smiled. With a gentle knock, you opened the door. 

“-I dream of fair maids of summer, with flowers in their hair-” you heard her sing quietly at her vanity, brushing a comb through her silver curls. 

“-I dream of maids of winter, with snow in the air,” you sang after her, walking into the room with a disarming grin. 

Her eyes found yours in the mirror, and her face soured. She stopped singing at once, pretending to be focused on her hair. You shut the door and approached her. Neither of you said anything as you took the brush from her, and began undoing her braids for her. Her curls went through your fingers like silk, shining in the faint candlelight glow. 

“A bard sang that song on my wedding day, you know,” you told her, starting to gently run the comb down her hair. “It’s where I first heard it. I loved it so much, I asked him to sing it a second time. I thought it was such a beautiful song-”

“-I don’t want to get married.”

“As you’ve stated previously,” you nodded. “If you do not wish to be married, love, then what do you want?” 

Daella did not speak right away. You saw the desire to speak plainly inside her, wishing to pour herself out to you. Though, the fear of being rejected or dismissed in favor of your own wishes disagreed with this. “You can tell me,” you assured her, looking at her in the mirror. 

“I want to travel, Mother,” she told you, imploringly. “I want to see the world; go across the Narrow Sea and see the Free Cities and meet different people, and see different cultures. I want to go about the realm on my dragon, seeing my grandfather’s kingdom and meeting his subjects. You and Father used to go into the city all the time-”

“-Yes, but we still married,” you interjected. “My love, you do not have to choose one life or the other. Being married…” you took a breath, pausing your brushing to think. You never imagined having this conversation. You merely accepted your cards when your mother dealt them. “Being married isn’t being tied down to one place. It is not a prison sentence. It’s having a companion. It’s having someone to share those dreams with. You can still have a full and rich life whilst having that other person. Look at your father and I, we betrothed and still saw wonders together.”

“The Street of Silk is not a worldly wonder, Mother,” she drawled. 

You tapped her shoulder sharply, “I meant the times that we went dragon riding together.”

“Where did you go?”

“Everywhere,” you answered. “We went as far as The Wall once. I told your father I wanted to see the world, and he promised me we would. Yes, we still visit our old stomping grounds from time to time, but that is nothing compared to our progress around the realm.” 

“You? You and Father went on a progress together?” she looked back at you in disbelief. 

“It’s originally been your grandmother’s idea,” you’d finished brushing her hair, but did not stop. You fondly remembered you and Aegon seeing the different castles and meeting the lords and ladies of the land. “Your father disliked the idea since courtly duties bore him to tears, but I told him it could be fun. We’d meet different people, and see new things. We went to The Wall to meet the Night’s Watch. We saw Winterfell and the big heart tree there. We went to the Maidenpool, and saw The God’s Eye from a distance. We visited The Twins. It was lovely. 

You finally stopped brushing and told her, “Being married does not mean you’ll be forced to stay in one place. You’ll have someone else to share those new experiences with and grow together from them. It’ll bring you closer to them.”

“I doubt it,” she scoffed. “You’ll marry me off to some insipid little lordling who will insist on keeping me locked in a castle, having his babies and running his household for him.”

“No,” you replied. “I planned on marrying you to a man of your choosing.”

This information caught your daughter off guard. “You did?”

“I did,” you nodded. “At first, I will admit I sent out propositions to certain lords and ladies who have sons your age, but I’d intended for you to pick at your own leisure. You are not as fortunate as other Targaryen women to have ready-made brother-husbands,” you lamented, “But I hope you may find happiness like I did with your father. As with songs, I cannot pick that for you. You must choose whether you like them or not. 

“Your brother’s nameday celebration will be a good chance to not only find a possible match, but perhaps make friends and allies outside of King’s Landing. Lord Beesburry has a granddaughter who also enjoys songs and dancing, and Lord Rosby has two who are fond of horses like you.” You put your hands on her shoulders, and said, “Do not worry about marriage for now, my love. Go to the tourney, seek out happy nights and enjoy your youth as I did.”

She smiled at you, the expression reminding you of your Aegon. “Thank you, Mother.”

You kissed her cheek and hugged her from behind, smelling the lavender in her hair. You left her to finish preparing for bed, and walked alone to your own chambers. Taking a seat at the vanity, you stared at yourself in the mirror while undoing your hair. You and Aegon took your progress right after your wedding. You’d never left home before, and you’d always wanted to see the world beyond King’s Landing. The promise of adventure and excitement encouraged you to take the leap into the unknown. Flying Moonfyre with his Sunfyre nearby, you felt like you could take on the world. 

“How is she?” Aegon walked into your chambers, finding you by the vanity. 

“Better than before,” you told him. “I explained to her that marriage isn’t the end of your life. You can still enjoy it while being with another person.”

He snorted, “Forgive me, my love, but I’m afraid not many lords would agree with you.”

You put down your brush and leaned on your elbows on the table. Head in your hands, you knew he was right. Adventure is not something lords think about unless they mean about themselves, while their wives stay home. “I suppose I can only pray then,” you decided, “That she finds what she wants.”

“It is the only thing we can pray for,” he said, coming up behind you and kissing your neck. “I sent the maids away for the night. Dyana and Myra are seeing the children to bed.”

You turned in your seat, smirking up at him, “Is that so? I wonder what reason you’d have to do such a thing. Myra needs to help me undress.”

His fingers ran up your back to the strings of your gown, “Undressing you should be my responsibility.” 

He cupped your chin to kiss you lightly, then gradually continued until your lips locked together. “And it’s the only responsibility you’ll readily agree to,” you teased, standing up and kissing him.

“That and the children.”

“And the children,” you agreed. 

Arms wrapping around you, you felt him deftly untying your dress, the cool night air brushing on the warm skin. You kissed him tenderly while undoing his belt, letting it fall to the ground. Unbuttoning the front of his jerkin, you slipped it from his shoulders to reveal the thin white undershirt. Aegon peeled off your gown down to your shift and bodice, which he undid with deft, swift fingers. That subtle heat you knew well started building in your lower stomach as he kissed down your neck to your collarbone; you felt up his arms to his shoulders, giving a light squeeze out of habit. 

Much like you, Aegon appeared to gain a few pounds himself, no longer the lanky boy he’d been in his youth. Not that you cared in the slightest. You ran your hands down his chest to his breeches, where you untucked his shirt and removed it. He pulled at your shift until you became bare in front of him; his hands pawed at your hips and backside while kissing you deeply. A soft moan filled your mouth as his tongue slid inside, you untied his breeches and tugged them down until they fell on their own. You reached down for his cock while he grabbed at your breasts, groaning softly at the hand wrapped around his shaft. Then, he started walking you backwards towards your bed.

Falling down onto the soft mattress, Aegon’s lust burned hotly. He left soft kisses along your throat to your breasts, which he grasped gently. You whimpered, feeling him take position above you, his semi-erect cock against your bare sex. His cock twitched in your hand in every stroke, and you felt him grow harder and harder. Aegon suckled your breasts, rolling his tongue around each one before giving a delicate suck. You whined at the tenderness just as much as the roughness. One hand still on your breast, the other slipped past your belly to your sex, which dampened at the anticipation of his touch. Two fingers started sliding up and down your slit, dancing over the folds while yours did so along his member. You moaned at the fingers dipping amongst them to your clitoris, where your pleasure spiked inside you. It throbbed against his fingers, a thing he noticed and responded with a roll around your clit. Aegon never failed to pleasure the most intimate parts of you; he knew exactly how to get the fires burning within you, stoking them like logs inside a hearth. He groaned against your skin, gradually bucking his hips into your hand. You repaid the act with tender squeezes from hilt to head, using beads of precum to slicken his length.

“It’s too bad you already have one in there,” he grunted, pecking across your breasts to flick his tongue over one of them. “I’d love to give you another right now.”

"It is a shame, truly," you replied in a laugh, free hand going up into his hair and tugging the wavy curls. This move brought him back to your lips, which immediately locked with yours. "I never say 'no' to you filling me; not since our wedding night, when you took me over and over again just to make sure it took root inside me."

"Well, everyone made such a big fuss over it," he smirked above you. "I thought I might as well be thorough."

He kissed you right as he slipped two fingers into your fluttering sex. You kept yourself spread out for him, grinding against his hand to get it deeper inside you. It reminded you of all the times you'd both scurried off together to dark corners of the castle, heat in your cheeks and hunger fueling your desires. You remembered your journey around Westeros following your wedding, and all the places you'd coupled throughout the kingdom. A majority of them started exactly like this. 

"Remember Maidenpool, love?" you asked, your thumb rubbing the underside of his tip. 

He smiled, "Do I? I recall it often." He kissed you, tongue flicking over your bottom lip before giving a tender tug. "When you pretended to be a maiden again, flustered and ready to be deflowered by me..." he stopped touching, and pushed your thighs further apart, kneeling up and away from you. Hands on your knees, he lifted them up slightly and said, "I don't believe I've fucked you as hard since then."

You then sneered at him, fingers trailing down his front to his cock again, "But, Your Grace," you pouted, "Shouldn't you be careful with me? I have never gotten this far with a man before."

Aegon let out a shaky moan, and plunged himself inside you suddenly. Your body took a moment to adjust, but as he started thrusting pleasure and desire bursted inside you. Grabbing your hips, Aegon kept you in place in each push. You could feel his exact length and girth stretching and filling you every time your bodies met. It became a sensation you enjoyed. 

"Your Grace," you whined, cupping your breasts to pinch your nipples, "Your Grace, please don't stop. Nobody's ever fucked me this way before. It feels so good."

He chuckled, violet eyes looking down at you in unfiltered lust, "Is that so? I find that hard to believe. A beauty like you has never had cock before?" he started pounding you faster, your breasts bouncing from the force and the sound adding to your grunts. "Not even an inch?"

"N-No, Your Grace," you replied. His tip started prodding your center, making you see stars as the orgasm slowly built inside. "No, never. Your cock's the only one I've-I've ever had." You started rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, keeping your breasts together with your arms so they continued bouncing. The light brush against your sensitive clit added to your pleasure. "Please, Your Grace, keep going. Don't stop. I want you to make me yours."

"Gladly."

He rolled you onto your front, face in the pillows, and entered you again. Aegon held onto your waist as you both met in the middle. The wet sound of his balls hitting your sex drive your passion further down. Just like in Maidenpool, and every time since, Aegon kept his strokes steady and deep. Hands reaching around to grasp your tits brought you up to a kneeling position, locking you close to him as he bottomed up into you. This new position made you see stars. Your sex tightened around him, your clit throbbed at his touch, and you didn't hold back your moans. The repeated, whispered phrase, 'Your Grace', amplified his arousal and you knew it considering his shaky breathing and low groans. 

Your orgasm came all at once, quaking your thighs and tightening your grip on Aegon's arms as he kept you firmly in place. It blinded you to everything around you; Aegon became the only real thing in the room. Normally, you kept your volume down to not disturb anyone, particularly your children, but not tonight. Not now. Not when Aegon's thick shaft and reddened tip brought you to the end of your climax. His own soon arrived, his cock slipping out with a wet pop, and hot streams spilling onto your inner thighs. Mouth pressed to your shoulder blade, you could feel the vibrations from his throat against you. You held him close until he'd finished, dick still twitching against your thighs. 

You both stayed in that position for several seconds, your warm bodies climbing down from the peak in every quivering breath. You collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion. The pregnancy made everyday tasks tiring, and sex only worsened the fatigue. Aegon's arms snaked around your waist as he brought you close to his chest and kissed your shoulder. You thought of the sticky substance sliding around your thighs, knowing you should wipe it away but not having the strength in your arms to do so. So, therefore, your husband did it for you, however lazily his ministrations. 

"Daella will be fine," he said, tossing the cloth aside. "She is a smart girl. She would never choose an empty-headed boy or a brute. If she happens to pick the Velaryon boy, well…accidents happen all the time.”

“Aegon,” you kicked him lightly and he laughed. 

“I only jest, my love,” he assured you, kissing your neck. 

“But, if she were to pick Jace’s boy?”

“If he makes her happy and treats her well, then I suppose I shall live with it.”

You shook your head in a laugh, intertwining your fingers with his to bring to your chest. Tiredness nearly drowned out the worries turning in your mind. Your childrens’ happiness is all you’ve ever cared about. This should not be any different. Daella will pick the right choice, and you’d side with whatever decision she made.

***

A/N: wow, it's been a while since I've written anything hotd. If you can't tell, this is part of my dad!aegon universe lol I hope you enjoyed this and give it a little reblog or a like.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon x reader #aegon ii x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd smut #aegon ii smut #tom glynn carney #house of the dragon fanfic

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

1 - Wolves of the Lone Stag

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (slow burn), Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 16.1k

Warnings: Slow Burn, Strained parent-child issues, mentions of minor character death, secret relationship, arranged marriage, injured/sick child mention, smut, p in v, slight dom/sub dynamics, loss of virginity

Notes: Reader is firstborn daughter of Stannis Baratheon, based off the show but will include direct book elements, slight canon divergence. First Chapter is really long due to set up, subsequent future chapters won't be quite such a massive read. Chapter Two Here.

Travelling along the Kingsroad was far longer and more tedious with this company. Normally you would spend only so much time on here from White Harbour, most of the journey done on sea. Yet now, there were far too many people and it’s leader insisting on treating the journey as it’s own adventure. By the time you reached Winterfell it would be a month on horseback and no one to entertain your morose demeanour. Though perhaps you had to consider that it wasn’t just the company of the others that was less then ideal.

You had the supposed misfortune of being the daughter to the less favoured of the three Baratheon brothers. Robert, King Robert to those in public company, was a more complicated man. A mix of a man who successfully kept the peace for over twenty years but also was as unhappy on the throne and was unafraid to show it. He did however, have enjoyment in wine, hunting, and did hold a jovial laughter that kept people around him.

Your other uncle, was much more agreeable. Renly was the youngest of them and was charismatic and well liked. He was naive, not really a man suited for leadership but he did the best with what he knew to do. Closer to your age, you often found yourself spending time with him and it was right now that you were annoyed he chose to stay back in Kings Landing. A month with the King, his own family and the entire royal brigade and not one of them knew how to get a smile from you.

That was a trait from your father no doubt. Stannis Baratheon was the middle child, and he was easily the most disliked. He was cold, distant, unemotional and seldom allowed laughter at his table. He took his job seriously, more seriously then the King did his sometimes. In his prime, he was a proven battle commander and he never lost that. Robert was a warrior and he was happiest as such, but Stannis had never stopped being a commander and whether it made him liked or not, it taught you to be who you were now.

A Lady of the House Baratheon, firstborn daughter to Stannis and heir of Dragonstone was your current position and you were taught to uphold that name. Often found with a flat expression, close to a scowl as you walked the capitol you found nothing to enjoy there. Not that Dragonstone was where you’d find happiness either. The only place that had never been your home was the one you felt it in.

You had turned eight when your father had begun sending you out. Brought up, he ensured you had a Lord’s education as well as what all girls were taught. If you were to take up the mantle after him, he wanted you to learn from those that would teach you to be like him. That was when he sent you to Winterfell for the first time. Not a friend of Lord Eddard of House Stark, but your father did respect him the most. Two men both stern with upholding honour and justice, always doing what is right and what is honourable rather then what they wanted.

You spent seven months in Winterfell, and it was the first time your mother and father hadn’t been there for your name day. At the time, it made you sad but you had long since gotten over it. Over more then a decade had passed since your first stay in the north and many name days had been spent there with no word from your family. Well, at least your parents. The only family member you spoke too and more fondly with then Renly, was your baby sister. Shireen Baratheon was not just the light of your life but your fathers too. Some used to say that you were the only one who could make Stannis smile but you were nothing compared to how he smiled at that little baby.

You were fine with her being the favourite, she was your favourite family member as well.

Not long after baby Shireen had beaten a bout of horrific illness, your father had been summoned to Kings Landing. The King telling him that he was of no use to the realm shut away on Dragonstone, and he was to come to the capitol and sit on the small council as Master of Ships. He had taken you with him, and thus your new home was the wretched city full of backstabbers and manipulators.

Back and forth you went from Kings Landing to Winterfell, each stay growing longer and each stay you grew closer to the Starks then you did anyone in the Red Keep. Lord Stark was the perfect example of a good leader, warden of the North and inspired nothing but loyalty amongst the northerners and made you as welcome as anyone in his home. You followed him around most days, learning from him, watching how he handled diplomacy and made his lessons your own.

It was that how you got to know his ward, Theon Greyjoy. A rambunctious lad who listened diligently in formality and was crass and brash outside of that. You knew he would hate Kings Landing but often found yourself at your fathers side wishing the smart ass was next to you, nudging you with his elbow every time you were too closed off for your own good. It was easy to forget that he was technically the Starks prisoner, he fit into their family, the north as well as you did.

Not quite a leader as you were being taught to be, but you were confident once he had the chance to prove himself, you’d expect great things from him. You’d gotten a raven from him while on the road, and in his usual style he spent some time making fun of you for having to be “shacked up with the lamest of the three”.

Right. The reasons your company headed to Winterfell. The King had one, you were being forced into another though. The news shocking you as Stannis told you of your new duty the night before you left was double. That he was leaving for Dragonstone and you were to return to Kings Landing with Lord Stark and serve as acting Master of Ships in his absence.

He wasn’t just dumping his responsibilities onto you with no explanation of his distant behaviour and secrecy, your father had also dumped a marriage onto you and told you that you were to marry and come back. As if he didn’t just dictate your entire life to be like his. “You will marry the Stark boy, and with or without him you are to return in my place.”

Trying to reason with him, “You’re expecting me to have, what? A night maybe two with my new husband and then leave for however long you decide?”

Not even the slightest change of expression, but there was a twinge of regret in his eyes that was soon covered up. “I didn’t decide this alone. My brother, our king, has decided it with no room for question. I’m sorry, but you’re a Baratheon. You’re my daughter. And sometimes our duty requires us to marry not for love, but for the good of the realm.”

You had spoken to your betrothed since the announcement, but had yet to see him in person. A major reason as to why you wished Renly had come with you. Have someone to ease your nerves on the months ride, instead you were entirely on your own lost in what you were losing.

After all, you received a raven from not just Robb after the announcement. And it was that second one, and the finality of it’s contents that shattered the still remaining rosy dreams you once felt as if you had a lifetime to indulge in. Who your betrothed was, wasn’t the upset in any way. It was the unavoidable conclusion of the love in your heart that simply wasn’t allowed to be.

As the party approached Winterfell, your heart begun to race.

The crisp cool air on your face that once relaxed you, only stoned it further into a solid expressionless pose. Reminding yourself that you weren’t just here as yourself, you were to represent your father and you wouldn’t do so by falling apart. You rode into the walls right up near the very front alongside your craven of a cousin. He represented the luxurious royal side of the family, and you the steadfast duty and justice.

The House guard stood all around the courtyard as well as many people who simply worked close by or wanted to just see the King. Riding into the main area, you refused to look. The Starks all stood with their closest men behind them but you looked nowhere but above the heads of everyone with a straight back atop of your horse.

The carriage which carried the Queen and the other two of her royal children filed in and revealed the King following suit. Your eyes forcing to stay nowhere but him, and it struck part of you that his deep scowl seemed to just be a trait that was shared amongst much of this family. As your party stayed atop their horses, you watched everyone near kneel down as Robert was assisted off his horse.

Watching him make a straight line towards the Starks, he stood in front of the kneeling Lord Stark beckoning him with his hand to stand. Everyone around them rising in toe as you watched the two old friends look stoically at one another. The quiet in the courtyard as everyone waited.

King Robert, it seemed, left posing the stoic formality of the Baratheons to you. Looking down at his friend’s frame and casually commenting, “You got fat.”

Two magnets, designed by the gods to be brought together your eyes met without any thought. His grey ones widened with a playful glint and a raise of the sides of his mouth as if to say, “He got fat?” You, broke just as easily. Quirking your eyebrows up slightly, trying and failing to cover a smirk as you flickered your eyes in gesture to the King, agreeing with his silence as you both instantly looked away from the other. Knowing neither would smother such a begging grin if you kept glancing at each other.

Robert greeting each member of the family, making polite chat with the Stark parents you climbed off your horse. Your head angled enough to see your cousin, Joffery, staring at the direction you just had with a smirk you would describe in private as slimy.

You weren’t the only one with a betrothal in mind for your King, but it was the other Stark which would suffer. Somehow whatever genes made the Baratheons so respected, had skipped Joffery in every single capacity. He was more Lannister then he was his father, and not even with the decency to be like the one lion which you could speak to without agitation.

You couldn’t say Sansa was the one you got along with the most, but watching the way the prince looked at her, you pitied what she couldn’t possibly know she was in store for.

“Take me to your crypt, I want to pay my respects.”

Cersei Lannister, the Queen, barley made an effort to toss any level of genuinity in her voice. “We’ve been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait.”

Her term of endearment sounding as fake to your Uncle as it did you, he ignored her and summoned Lord Stark anyways. The Queen glaring as they walked away, and directed it towards the youngest Stark daughter, Arya as she without any care of properness, asks where the “Imp” was. The Imp being the Queens younger brother, Tyrion.

Were you to be honest, as you unpacked some of your things from your horse you could only think of one place he would go. And he certainly would not find such a place inside the castle walls. Seeing the Queens twin brother, Ser Jaime of the Kingsguard to “go and find the little beast.” Holding another smirk back, you heard footsteps approaching.

Not the ones you normally would expect, he wouldn’t come to you here. Not now, not in front of the royal family, all these people, and certainly not after learning you’ve come here to marry. Instead, the voice that spoke behind you was the only other person you’d care to see, calling your name.

Robb Stark, Lord Eddard Stark’s eldest true born son stood tall behind you. His northern accent deep and thick, and drenched in a soothing warmth that always felt comforting yet unfitting of the cold he lived around. Turning to face him, you could still see the trailing remnants of the Queen and her children in the distance.

Play your part, your fathers voice told you. With a slight nod of your head and a smile you clearly amused Robb with such a proper curtsy. “My lord.”

A raise of his eyebrows, he had less care of hiding such a smirk. “Is that how we are playing it, my lady?”

You had to bite your tongue to keep from smiling, but still failed somewhat. Robbs smirk growing more playfully smug as he watched you lose your static composure. “I don’t know what you mean, my Lord. I am here with the royal company, we are nothing if not with our courtesies at all times.”

Dropping the act, Robb rolled his eyes and stepped closer. “Well if you’re people have a problem with it, they will just have to get over it.” Pulling you into a hug, you felt part of your racing heart and screaming nerves settle a bit.

You’ve known Robb since that first visit when you were eight. No matter what you were both being shoved into, he wasn’t anything near a stranger. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you to his chest as your face was snuggle tugged into the deep browns of his cloaks fur. Soft as anything, they helped sooth your heart more and he seemed to hold you for as long as it did his as well. His voice low in your ear this time, “We’ll talk in private.”

Pulling away with a deep inhale, you nodded. Face falling back into a stoic composure. It sometimes took you a little bit to drop the harsh demeanour you lived with once you got to Winterfell, but with this company in toe you felt bad that the Starks weren’t going to really get you in any relaxed form. Nodding at Robb you fell quiet, but he was happy to take up the mantle with enough volume for those around to be satisfied with. “Let me help bring your things up, my lady.”

In the corner of your eye as Robb slung the heavier of your bags over his shoulder and you insisting on carrying at least the lighter one, you caught sight of his mother. Lady Catelyn Stark, originally born to House Tully, was something of a complicated relationship for you. You admired her in countless ways, and you saw her more as a mother then you did your own for many years growing up. But there was no mistaking the slight rift that was caused by the only other member of the family you were closer too then her eldest son.

That one though, was nowhere to be seen. You both knew full well that such a meeting was going to have to happen in private, and you hoped you would find time to sneak away from the feast tonight to get it. You two had to talk, you needed to talk to him before you marry or your resolve might crumble.

She watched you and Robb politely walk through the court towards the main doors. Describing their home as a castle felt odd after living in both Dragonstone and Kings Landing. The Starks castle in Winterfell was home in your heart, not a fancy collection of stonework designed to impress. Robb had written that the news came as surprise to all of them, that Lady Catelyn had tried to protest saying that the King shouldn’t just force this on you.

Her husband had to remind her, that they married of duty and look where they are now. You hoped that your companionship with Robb’s brother had not soured her opinion of you being capable of being a good wife. Robb didn’t have your heart the way he did, but he would be the one to keep it from now on and you hoped Lady Catelyn wouldn’t hold it against you.

Falling in love with Robb was not the impossible, in fact he could make that quite easy.

Making small talk of the trip here as you and Robb passed a numerous amount of servers and maids scurrying about the halls, you were thankful for how well you knew him. That the tensity in his stature would only relax the second the door would shut and you both would drop this growing painful act.

Your room was in a corridor away from the main family, closer to where Theon stayed. Many times the main four of you would stay in either his or your room to drink, laugh and get into trouble all without the keen ears of the Stark parents. Your room in Winterfell was a place that you could stop being the daughter and first born heir of Lord Stannis Baratheon, and just be you.

The room had been freshly cleaned, new sheets draped on the bed frame as well as a cozy fur begging you to plop down onto it with a sigh and a nap to boot. Robb dropped your bag down by the window, holding his hand to take the one in your hands to join it. Turning to you, he watched as you let out a shaking sigh.

Your face dropping, finally free to shine in a tinge of shame and exhaustion as you sat down on the edge of the bed, your palms flat on your thighs. Opening your mouth to speak, he cut you off with a sharp edge. “Don’t apologize.” Your brows narrowed in question, but Robb paced over to lean against the wall across from you. His arms crossed casually in front of his chest as he looked into your eyes. “You were about to say sorry for all of this, and I don’t want to hear it.”

Head dropping, you bit your tongue more and nodded. Hands clasping together in a fidget before returning to rest flat on your thighs. His eyes shined blue, and out of the sunlight his hair looked far closer to a Stark brown then it did a Tully Red, if your heart didn’t weigh a thousand pounds you might have spent more time admiring him. “I just,” Sighing again you looked away, unable to cope with the unblinking seriousness in his eyes. “I only found out before you did. I don’t want you thinking I asked for this, or am trying to force you into this.”

Robbs sigh wasn’t defeated, but annoyed. You hadn’t the courage to look again yet. Your name slipping from his tongue with a seriousness. “No one here thinks that.” Glancing up at him, you felt your resolve slip even more. “No one.”

Not that Robb would have any reason to suspect it, but you were desperately hoping that one person in particular didn’t think that out of everyone. Robb took a few steps forward, hoping to beckon you to look up at him, but instead chose to sit down next to you. Enough space between you to not be intrusive. Your voice was small, quiet like a whisper and you knew this was not the words of a proud lady, but just a girl. “He hadn’t even brought up marriage in years. Not since..”

You faded off, both of you know what you were going to say but luckily Robb knew that reliving it would not make you feel any better. He leaned closer to you without breaking your personal space. “Your father has talked to you about marriage more then he has me, at least. In some ways you’re more prepared for this then I am.”

Laughing out, you didn’t turn to see the soft smile on his lips at the sound. “Oh I doubt that. You haven’t had the pleasure of meeting my parents. Between them, and being around the King and Queen’s marriage? It it weren’t for yours I’d assume every married couple is bitter and unloving to the point of near contempt.”

A breathy laugh leaving him, you were thankful once more that at least your husband to be was someone whom you didn’t have to hold you thoughts around. Robb leaned back on the bed, his palms outstretched to rest against the furs and look at you partially from the back and side. “We could get separate beds if it makes you feel better.”

Your eyes narrowed playfully at the mocking in his tone. Quick to turn around with the intention of snarking back he took you by surprise. Lurching forward to wrap his hands around your waist and drag you back with him, both of you laying now back against the bed as he respectfully moved his hands from you. His eyes shined with laughter however, and it loosened yours enough to laugh out loud.

Playful words sat at the tip of your tongue, but what came out was far from it. “It feels like he’s planning something,” turning to look at Robb’s profile against the light coming from the window. “My father. He and Lord Arryn have been doing something in secret, and he kept me away from it on purpose. Both of them seemed to be worried about something, and then...”

“Then he died.” Lord Jon Arryn, Hand of the King and a long time friend of both the King Robert and Lord Stark had passed from a fever that took him in one night.

You nodded. Glancing up to the ceiling as your hands rested along your stomach. “He was fine one day, and then he just...not even a day later was when my father called me to his office. Told me everything, about coming here, about your father, then just..ended the conversation with this.” Your eyes narrowed as you recalled the sternness of his rasp.

“You’re to marry the Stark boy then return here in my place. I won’t have any more questions on the matter.”

Robb was lost in thoughts of his own, tone light yet distant when he spoke up. “He wants my father to be Hand of the King. He hasn’t even been in Kings Landing since the war.”

You understood why. Not just the horrors inflicted on Lord Starks father and brother, but it was a den of vipers all wanting you to play a game that a man like him would want no part in. None of the Starks belonged there, too good for a disgusting place the capitol was. Sighing yourself, you shrugged. “He’ll hate being there as much as my father does, as much as I do. At least I’m the Kings niece I’m supposed to belong there.”

Robb turned onto his side and you followed suit. Your dress hardly made for proper warmth like his attire was, but the Queen insisted that you dress properly to impress your to be husband. As if the man in question hadn’t seen you covered in dirt, mud, bruises and knocked you into the dirt countless times over the years. You didn’t feel like yourself anywhere but here, and yet with the royals all here you still didn’t feel like yourself.

Just a plaything meant to look pretty and play the part. For once, you felt like a normal highborn lady you supposed. Born and bred to be a wife that's born to breed. You were looking at Robb, and yet you reminded yourself with a lurch of your heart to push back the other face in your mind.

Later you told yourself.

Robb’s voice was low, soft, and with an affection that at the very least, wasn’t unusual for him. “You haven’t belonged there in a long time.”

Your tone dropped quieter then his. “Where do I belong then?”

To his credit, it wasn’t with himself that he said. “Here. You belong here.”

By nightfall you still hadn’t seen him. You’d seen many of the others. Arya being the first, practically running past Robb into your room and leaping into a hug with zero sense of formality. You knelt down somewhat to meet her with a loud laugh. With a zillion questions about if you’re staying, did you know, does this make you her sister, you were blissfully reminded of the only other girl who held your heart like that.

Shireen wasn’t a trouble maker like Arya had a tendency to be, but they had a similar spirit. She felt as much like your sister as the one back on Dragonstone was by birth. Sansa had to call her away, annoyed as ever and with a fluster as she addressed you. The paintings of a crush all over her face from the blonde haired fowl faced cousin, and you wished it was any other boy Sansa was to be promised too.

Well, as Robin Arryn briefly popped into your mind you laughed to yourself. Maybe not any of other boy. Starling the handmaiden attending to your dress as you shook your head in apology. You could dress yourself easily for a normal night in the North, but alas the Queen insisted that you impress your husband to be. As if he wasn’t someone you had known for over a decade as one of your very closest friends.

You did however, stop them fervently as they reached for your hair. The Queen could dress and paint you up like a doll and you wouldn’t really fuss at the treatment, but you would rather cross the wall and throw yourself into a frozen lake before you’d let any of those southern up-dos go anywhere near your hair. If judging by the look you got from the Queen during the feast, she wasn’t pleased in any way, but then again she rarely was ever pleased by anything.

Sat next to Robb during the feast, you were thankful that he and the other guys at the table treated you like they always did. To a degree, it was a bit off putting by your much more distant attitude but judging by the glances you made to the Queen they gathered enough that you were more on guard. The hall was filled to the brim with people, ale, music and laughter.

Off in the distance you could see King Robert laughing with a group of men, and his hands happily exploring a woman who was most certainly not his wife. Most didn’t care, and the ones who did never would say anything. He was King he could do what he wanted. Lady Catelyn much to your sympathy was stuck up at the main table sat next to the Queen herself and struggling to find any conversation that didn’t make the woman utterly miserable.

“Out of all the Northerns, you get stuck with this one?” Theons voice rang out, a lightness in his eyes and ale in his veins. You leaned your elbow on the table and pointed at him with a playful raise of your eyebrows.

“At least this one’s pretty, Greyjoy.”

Laughter from all around the table, and even finally sneaking one from yourself. Theon would sometimes flirt with you, but never in a serious manner. It almost was a game. He would start with a flirtatious comment and it quickly spun into who could jokingly insult the other more after you deny him with a snarky remark first. “Aye, but you’d get some nice experience with me.”

Robb tossing a ripped piece of bread at him with a half hearted protest of his own experience, but you leaned back in your seat bringing your mug to your lips. “What experience is that, exactly? Paying women to pretend to moan for you isn’t exactly what I had in mind for my wedding night.”

Pushing it back down, if you joked about it you didn’t have to think about the reality. With no experience of your own, you weren’t immune to the whispers of girls and women of their nights with pain and blood. At least you would get one single thing right come time for that part of the wedding. You almost didn’t though, and the longer you kept trying to not think about it, the more you felt yourself looking for someone you knew wasn’t there.

You had to talk to him, but the first day in Winterfell was just far too busy for it thus far.

Opportunity luckily, arrived in the form of Arya being unable to behave. You and Robb had been joking and laughing about something when the sight of food flinging from another side of the room caught your eyes. The food in question splatting directly onto Sansa’s face as she yelled out indigently.

The quickness of Arya smiling and going back to pretend as if she didn’t do anything got a laugh out of you, but also drew the attention of Lady Catelyn. Gesturing to Robb over, his face fell more serious as he brushed a hand over your lower back as he stood up. Grabbing Arya around the sides and hoisting her up. “Time for bed.”

Glancing around the room, Lady Catelyns eyes elsewhere, as was the Queens. Lord Stark talking to who you recognized as his brother Benjen and now Robb gone you took the opportunity you really shouldn’t have. Standing up, you made your way slowly to the entrance, downing the last of the ale before slinking out unseen.

Or rather, unseen by all but the watchful eyes of a golden Lion.

Alone for once, you allowed yourself to be annoyed. The chill of the air hit you with a sting as you were entirely undressed for the cold of the night. Not even graced with a seat at a lower table, no he was put out here as if his existence was so offensive to anyone but her. His birth wasn’t his fault, and as much as you admired and liked her?

It never failed to chip away at something angering in you, how Lady Catelyn treated Jon Snow.

You heard his voice before you saw him, but it the second voice that took you by surprise. “Did I offend you? Sorry. You are the bastard, though.”

Lord Tyrion Lannister in your sights slowly walked up to Jon, who was faced away from you. There was a bluntness in his words but also a sympathy in his eyes. Leaning back against a stone wall, you watched in quiet.

“Lord Eddard Stark is my father.”

And yet, just as so many liked to remind him, Lord Tyrions words were those that many have said in response. “And Lady Stark is not your mother. Making you, a bastard.”

Watching him with narrowed eyes, you held back any defence in your blood. Likely he was the only Lannister which you didn’t entirely distrust towards him. Jon Snow had more then enough people ensuring him he would never be like his brothers and sisters.

Your arms crossed over your chest, and breathe visible in the cold you listened to the man tell him wear what he is like armour. Jon, however, did not seem to be in such a mood. His voice was low, a thick northern accent that came out more like an entrancing rasp then Robb’s warm soothing one. It also, was lined with that of a temper you knew the older Jon got, the more he struggled with. “What the hell do you know about being a bastard?”

Fingertips itching to reach out, but you stayed put. Listening to Lord Tyrion’s final comments before departing to whatever plans he had for the night. “All dwarves are bastards in their fathers eyes.”

Jon wasn’t heartless, nor stupid. Somewhere inside him, you knew he sympathized with the Lannister but being shut out of a feast in the cold, on top of what you knew was looming? Jon had little room left to care about simmering that temper.

Lord Tyrion caught your eye as he passed, a tilt of his head and question in his eye you simply looked flat and unblinking. He wouldn’t say anything, but that didn’t mean he didn’t store his curiosity about your sudden watchful appearance for later.

Slowly approaching, you called out only once the sound of doors closing behind you left the courtyard in silence from the muffled party behind you. “Think he’s dead yet?”

Spinning to face you at the sound of your voice, you hated how unable you were to quell your heart looking at him. Walking towards him, you saw Jon put the sword away entirely before circling around to meet you halfway. It took less then second for both of you to glance around, watch for the no eyes any could see before he closed the rest of the gap.

Scooping you up into his arms, almost spinning you in place as you both held the other tightly. “I missed you.” Your voice muffled in this luscious dark curls, he put you down gently on your feet. His hands on your upper arms still before glancing up. Changing his mind, he turned. Pulling you along with him with a hand on your lower back.

Jon was the only man who could silently drag you away into a dark corner in the dead of night and you wouldn’t question him in any way, shape or form. Neither of you said anything, but out of everyone Jon was the one person who you didn’t need it with. Both of you were always on the air of more quiet, and it was never more appreciated then alone with the other, never worried about having to fill the air with talking to be comfortable.

Once you had reached far enough away, Jon led you into a small building, mostly empty save for some storage and one lit lantern. Door closed, he turned to face you once more with silence. His eyes begging to say too much, but neither of you could handle it in that second. Once more you found the others arms. This time, the desperation was felt both ways.

Both of you letting your eyes shut, and your hands rest freely and yet far to intimate to be platonic as you stood together. It was minutes before he pulled back. One hand resting on your waist and the other back on your upper arm. He watched as your hands wrung together, afraid to touch him. You hated how gently he always said your name, forcing you to look up and meet his eyes.

One of you had to say something, and you ripped the bandage off first. “You’re really joining them?”

His nod was confident, and it broke your heart that much more. “The St-”

Shaking your head you felt your eyes sting, you hated feeling this way. “Don’t give me that.” Your fingers twitched wanting to reach out, and he caught the movement. “Don’t tell me what you think everyone else wants to hear.”

Was his response a diversion from the truth, or an answer you didn’t know for sure. “You’re marrying Robb.” Like no other, Jon could tell right away that you bit your tongue in anxiety. The hand on your arm moving up to gently trace over the side of your jaw until he felt you relax under the touch. “I’m not mad at you. Neither of you really had a say in it.”

Ever so slowly, you hesitantly left your hands drift forward until the very tips of your fingers rested against his stomach. Much like earlier with Robb, were you not wracked with too much in your head, you might have paused to enjoy the feeling of how sturdy and firm his muscles had grown. Instead you let your head hang, knowing he wanted you to look at him. “And you feel like The Night’s Watch is the only place you belong?”

Were you anyone else, Jon would have pulled away in frustration. But his time with you was limited, and his hands always ached to touch you when you were near. “It is now.” Head rising up to look at him, your brows narrowed. “You’ll marry him, go back to Kings Landing with my father and sisters, and leave me what? Here with the brother who gets the one thing that used to be mine, and his mother who hates me?”

Something rushed up, and an anger almost yelled out instead of reason. “Jon, I’m not trying to leave you behind.”

He sighed, jaw clenching as his hand on your waist held you a slight tighter. “No. You’re doing your duty, and I’m doing mine.”

For a while you both just stood there, looking at the other. In your heart, you felt stolen from, but your mind reasoned for the best. Just as the silence between you was too much, Jon slowly leaned in.

Your back pressed against the wall and he having moved to crowd you against it, his head dipping down enough as you exhaled shakily. The nerves in you, always managing to make him smirk. But just as you felt the others breath on your faces, a door in the distance opened. Music and laughter and the sounds of a group making drunken rackets paused Jons movement.

If it were any normal day, you’d just say not here.

But you and Jon knew better, in a few days, he would stand in the godswood and watch you marry his brother. And soon after that he would join a group that cut your love off from him for life. You couldn’t kiss now, and not ever again.

It didn’t stop either of you from seeing the other after the night was over. But with the royal company here, with you and Robb spending more time together, you only had time to see each other in the secrets of the dark. What made that much harder though, was how little suddenly anyone looked forward to a wedding.

Bran had climbed the walls and towers thousands of times with a firm grip. And yet, while climbing the one tower which no one use in decades, Bran somehow fell so far to the ground, no one yet knew if he would wake up.

And amongst all that, the Queen insisted, “We still have a wedding to put on.”

The entire family was on edge. Maester Luwin has monitored him closely, and Lady Catelyn even closer having not left his side. You didn’t blame her one bit. It was before anyone else was really awake when you went to go see her.

Slowly peeking in, asking if it was alright you come in for a moment and you were thrown back over ten years ago. Looking at your own mother, Selyse, and how broken and lost she was as Maester Cressen warned her to prepare herself for Shireen to be sent away for good.

Walking by her side, you sat gently on the bed beside Bran. It was cruel. Only a boy of ten, and with the softest, most adorable little face you’d ever seen and yet he lay in bed broken in too many ways. If he woke, he’d never walk again. You thought to yourself, maybe if you were to be a proper northern, you should start praying to the Old Gods. Because it certainly seemed like praying to the Seven had done nothing. It left your baby sister disfigured for life, and so far they seem to have left Bran a cripple should they even allow him to wake.

Laying on the other side was his yet unnamed Direwolf. Hardly more then puppies when you first arrived, you had been shocked to see how they had grown. Sitting asleep by his masters side though, you hoped he would bring little Bran any comfort.

Lady Catelyn was silent beside you, working away on something you hadn’t quite understood. You didn’t ask, you weren’t a mother and you didn’t want her to have to explain her grief to you. Your hand gently ran over Brans wrist, your thumb feeling his pulse weak but still beating if you pressed firm enough. “My sister had greyscale as a baby.”

You felt her look up at you, but your eyes were trained on the adorable boy soon to be your brother. “My father bought her a doll from a merchant, and next thing we knew it was spreading fast over the side of her face. She was just a baby she didn’t even understand what was happening to her, but we all did.”

You felt your eyes sting, but forced them back with a harsh swallow. “I’ve never heard my mother cry like that. She lost four boys in the womb, and yet that was the most I’ve ever seen her cry. And my father?” You stumbled. Voice coming out harsh, and cracked slightly from the pressure to appear steady. “People used to say the only thing that he would ever smile for is me, but they don’t understand. They didn’t see the desperation in his eyes, how far and hard he searched to bring people to Dragonstone just for a chance to save her life. And none of them saw the tears in his eyes when he was finally allowed to hold her again.”

Reaching up with your other hand you ran your hand over the side of Brans face, brushing some hair to the side. “I’m sorry. Me and Robb both tried telling them to put it off, but the Queen insisted that a wedding might do everyone some good.” She tried saying your name, but you interrupted her. “It’s okay if you don’t come. If I were a mother, I don’t think I’d leave him either.”

Looking back at her, there were tears in her eyes and a soft smile that broke your heart. Your relationship with her was always complicated, but in this moment, all you saw was what no one had given to your mother when it was Shireen.

Leaning over to her, you hugged her tightly. The pain in her heart evident in how both weak yet tightly she hugged back. Pressing a kiss to her forehead you spoke quietly, “I’m sorry.”

Passing by the busy servants and suspiciously watchful Queen you paid no mind to the preparations that were to be for you tomorrow. At first it had felt like you and Robb were to be wed for some unknown plot of your fathers, but now it felt like a distraction.

Don’t look at the broken boy in bed, look at the happy couple. For their own pain, you had to hand it to the three of them. Lord Stark, Robb, and Jon truly what Starks were made of. Strong willed, and keeping calm acting as a pillar for the much younger and more worried siblings. Arya clearly a big influence on her direwolf Nymeria, as the wolf was agitated and struggled to sit still the past days. On multiple occasions, you found the wolf almost trying to rile up her own siblings to varying success.

Her and little Rickons direwolf Shaggydog had the most energy. As if getting out their tension by chasing and play fighting. Sansa’s Lady was truly an apt name. Stuck by her side and was poise and put together, only getting in the way to provide any comfort to the redhead in what Sansa thought were moments no one was looking.

Grey Wind was as strong headed as Robb. Their mother gone, he had taken up the mantle of leader of the pack and seemed to be a calming presence for the others. Much like how Robb’s confidence in ensuring his siblings Bran would be alright, provided such comfort to them. The more time you spend with Robb during the day, the more used to Grey Wind you got.

He grew larger then the others, a gorgeous mix of greys and browns in his colour and the more comfortable with a new closeness which Robb grew with you over the past few days, the easier it was for Grey Wind to come to your side when not with his own master. Lord Stark had joked that they seemed to sense you were about to become a wolf yourself.

It was the final direwolf however that you enjoyed the most. Pure white with striking red eyes, Ghost was smaller then the rest but quick and silent. He made very little noise if ever, but was always aware of his surroundings. Keeping out of the way without sacrificing his watchful canine eyes from their view, and listened to his master better then any of them.

Jon and Ghost it seemed, were one in the same. From the same family, but not truly one of the pack as the others were. While the others followed their master like an animal companion, Ghost and Jon were almost like friends instead. Certainly he took Jons feelings around people seriously, considering that as you sat out in the godswood while the moon set itself up in the night sky, you were suddenly almost thrown off balance.

Looking down, the small white direwolf had leaped into your lap. Leaning up to give your cheek a lick before settling in. You scratched at his back, “I don’t know what you’re asking for, but I’m getting up in about ten seconds.”

“Maybe he just likes how soft you are.” Looking up, you utterly failed to fight back both the fluster in your eyes and the embarrassed smile that you tried to hide, turning away from him.

Jon’s curls looked more wild and free again, growing out quickly from the clean cut given before your arrival. The wilder look suited him better. His cloak around his shoulders had a bright closer to white fur around him that you knew first hand was warm and comforting. Coming to sit next to you, he reached over and ran his fingers over Ghosts ear, making him shake his head with a barley audible huff at being disturbed. You both laughed gently, were it not a wolf in your lap, a commoner would mistaken you both for that of a couple with their newborn.

You were to be married tomorrow, and in two days you and Jon would part ways for what could be life for all you knew. Two days, but tonight was your last. Tomorrow you would be Lady Stark, wife of Lord Robb Stark, and there was no room in that duty for another or fairness in your heart.

Leaning against his shoulder, you knew in the eyes of the old gods there was no judgment as you rested your head there. His arm coming to pull you into his side as he looked down to you, your own trained on Ghost.

More then once you and Jon had almost kissed, it would be too easy. To fall into it again. You didn’t fall into it the first time, it was just a bond that always existed. The last time you had ever kissed, was when you came close to giving him something else.

The opportunity was right there, and no one would have been there to stop you, but neither of you were people who could so easily push past the honour you were raised with. Deep down in his mind, Jon knew you could never just marry someone like him, not for who you were. He just didn’t expect to come to the finality of it all, only months after almost having you.

Not that he told it to you, but there was a smugness in Jon that said that at least if he had one thing over Robb, or two, was that he was your first kiss. Knew what your lips tasted like, and knew what a cruelly addicted sight your bare body looked like. Though, not if he asked you, you’d say that wasn’t a perk.

Reminding Jon that he was muscle and you weren’t. Only receiving a dark, undoubtedly lustful look as he muttered that your softness is exactly what he dreams about before kissing you, having pushed you back into the furs of his own bed.

A far off moment, sitting together now, cuddled with his cloak around you against the Weirwood tree for the last time. “We never had a chance did we?” Pulling back, Jon tried looking at you with a slight question in his narrowed brows, but you just continued to run your fingers gently over the slumbering Ghost. “I mean, being with you is easy. It’s always been easy, but being together?”

Resting his chin on the top of your head, he breathed in deeply. “No. No we never had a chance.”

The truth didn’t make it hurt any less. But you weren’t children anymore. You would marry Robb, return to Kings Landing and serve on the small council at the Hand of the Kings Side, in place of your own lord father and Jon would become a man of the Night’s Watch.

In what world did those two things have a chance at crossing over?

Turning your head, you rested further into his neck and his warmth was unyieldingly comforting. “You know right? Even if I don’t say it?”

Jon had enough, moving to pull your face up to look at him by your chin. “I know. And you do too.”

Your heart skipping a beat you smiled partially, “You know it’d be a whole lot easier not to kiss you if you weren’t so handsome.”

Smirking, Jon pulled you closer. Your back more pressed against his chest as he wrapped the edges of his cloak around your front, hiding the blissfully unaware Ghost from the cold air. “Oh I’m handsome, am I?”

Rolling your eyes, you relaxed in his touch. “I’m not blind, Snow. It’s an unfair thing about you Stark men, you, Robb and your father, all way too handsome for your own good.” You had always done that. Included Jon when referring to the Starks without question. It was something that only his youngest siblings would still do, and that's just because they weren’t yet mature enough to truly understand why he was treated different.

You were though. You knew why, but you and him were always the closest even before the messy feelings of early teenage hood started to take place, and since then you were only more steady in that belief. He was a Snow, but his blood a Stark. And no matter what he called himself, he would always have the blood and integrity of his father. “Should I be worried? Marrying my brother, and running off to Kings Landing with my apparently handsome father?”

Pinching your sides, you tried elbowing him but Jon was far stronger and held you still with a laugh, your voice high and defensive. “I didn’t mean- sorry next time I’ll call your family ugly, alright?” With a pause, it slipped out before you could stop it. “Jealousy another Stark trait I should be worried about?”

You could feel the smirk still plastered across Jons face in his voice at your ear, “When the girl looks like you, any man with half a brain would be jealous of letting you go.”

It was far later then you should’ve been awake, but peeling yourselves apart for the last time was too difficult. It was quiet for a while, nothing but the quiet hums of the woods to pass the silence. His voice rasped in your ear, a small shiver down your spine at its closeness. “Where’d we meet?” He chuckled at your blatant confused face. “If we had a chance, in another life where’d we meet?”

“Are we not still us?”

You enjoyed hearing him so light and casual, it felt like I’d been months long amount of days since you’d seen such casualness. “No, well I mean I’m still me and you’re still you. But we’re not highborns, no titles or duties. Just two people somewhere in the kingdom, where’d we meet?”

Eyes squinting in thought, you considered something that was the opposite of the horrible paranoia of Kings Landing, and far from the darkness of Dragonstone. “I hear Highgarden is beautiful in the summer.”

Jon nodded against your head, “Alright. So you’re a bar maid in Highgarden, and I-”

Laughing loudly you tried pulling away, “Excuse me, why am I a barmaid? Isn’t this a fantasy?”

With such a tone of seriousness you felt light at how easily it came to him, as if it was something he’s thought of before. “Yes, and if you’re a bar maid it means I have an excuse to pull this pretty little bar maid in Highgarden down onto my lap as she passes by.”

“That’s aggressive of you.”

“Maybe this particular bar maid makes me aggressive.”

Back and forth you went, what is job was, how you’d fall in love, if you stayed in Highgarden or travelled the realm elsewhere. How many kids you’d have to which you certainly had protests as to how easily Jon kept raising the number each time he mentioned it. By the time you had planned out a new life, it was late enough that you needed to go back.

You needed some sleep, and Jon wasn’t the only brother who you wanted to talk to before this was all over.

Ghost lept out of your lap and shook his fur out on the ground as you both watched him with a fond smile. Looking back at him, you held onto his wrists and he your waist. This time, neither moved in or even tempted the idea of a kiss.

Raising a hand to cup the side of your cheek, he ran a thumb over the soft skin. “Don’t look for me in the ceremony.” Before you had a chance to spiral, he leaned down to meet your eyes more level. “I’ll be there, but don’t look for me. You’re going to be Robb’s now, and I want you to be okay with accepting that.”

Nodding, he made you promise out loud. “I promise.”

He nodded once. “You’ll be each others tomorrow, and I’ll be at the wall. I want you two to be there for each other, no matter what. Besides, it’ll be easy.” You tilted your head. “Robb’s easy to fall in love with, and I think it’s impossible not to fall at least a little in love with you.”

The hug you shared wasn’t the last before you departed, but it was the last one just for you.

He sent you off first, not wanting you to linger with him on your mind. Jon needed you to be okay with being Robb’s, and he himself, needed to just get through these next few days. He had an entire life at the wall to grieve about you.

The handmaiden was quite mad at how you ignored her. Something about the Seven, not seeing the bride but you went towards Robbs anyways. You were to be married at the Weirwood under the eyes of the old gods, it didn’t matter what the Seven wanted anymore.

Not quite dressed up, Theon looked you up and down as he opened the door. “Didn’t think you were that much of a bore.” You pushed him out the way with a roll of your eyes, he laughed as he closed the door behind him. You were glad that the northerners weren’t so dramatic.

With his mother tucked away with Bran, he escaped what would’ve been her insistence of shaving and another trim. His facial hair growing thick and his curls much more Tully Red in the daylight. “I want to ask you a favour.”

Nodding once, he said anything. Taking a step to you as you sighed out shakily, hands ringing together, he said your name as he came into your space. Looking up at him, you sighed out again. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Taken back, his eyes narrowed in curiosity. “That’s not a favour.”

Somewhat flustered, you pulled away. Sitting down on his bed, unable suddenly to send away the thoughts of the very next time you’ll be in this room. “I- I don’t want you thinking I don’t want this, or you, but we didn’t plan this, or talk about it before it happened, and now we’re here and,”

Robb knelt down to your level, not yet touching you in your panic, but speaking slow and in a low, comforting tone until the edge fell from your lips. His steady energy slightly bringing you down a little bit as you tried again. “My parents are miserable together.” Your hands started to wring together in front of you, “They barley tolerate each other, I’ve never seen any love between them. And same with my Uncle. He and the Queen basically hate each other I’m shocked they could stand each other long enough to have three kids together.”

His brows narrowed as you put it all together. “Everyone I know whose married for duty, married because they had to...I think your parents are the only ones I know who ended up happy, who actually love each other.”

Robb leaned in slightly, “Are you worried you’ll never love-”

Shaking your head you felt the anxiety in your chest boil up like never before. “Robb, look at me. I’m Stannis Baratheons child, daughter of the supposed most miserable man in Westeros in the most loveless marriage, are you sure you’re okay with marrying me?”

There it was. The first true hint of insecurity that you’ve allowed yourself to be honest with since you had been told of this arrangement. Two out of three Baratheon Lords were in miserable marriages, and when you looked at Robb, you hated the idea that you were forcing him into just another of that cycle.

The girl in you wanted to cry at losing one love, and the woman in you hated yourself for possibly dragging another into something he’d come to hate. You’ve known Robb for as long as you’ve known Jon, and you watched him grow into the man he is now. Both of you could do great things together according to Lord Stark, but what if you were too much like your father to ever inspire love?

Robb stood up, sitting down next to you as he turned his body close. Your name falling easily from his lips. “You’re not your father. No- look at me. You are not him, you’re not any of them. I’ve known you since you were eight. You’re stubborn, and strong willed and always willing to do what duty asks but that isn’t all of you. I’ve also seen you laugh, get into trouble with me more times then I can count, you care about my little sisters and my brothers like their yours too. My father already sees you like your his own, and despite everything, I know my mother does too.”

Running a hand over your hair, he watched tension in your shoulders deflate ever so slightly. “I’m not worried about marrying you, because I know what I’m getting myself into. And no one can tell me to be happy about it, but I am anyways.”

Gently you raised your hand, enough to slightly lay over the arm Robb had flat on the bed, your thumb finding this pulse, unlike little Brans, his was steady and strong. “You shouldn’t be. You get told your marrying me, and then the day after I get dragged back to Kings Landing with half your family for who knows how long.”

Your heart raced, as Robb twisted his arm, holding your wrist the same way you were his. An easy, charming, boyish smile on his lips. “And we’ll have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

Deep in your mind, you wished Robb would make this harder. You wished he wasn’t so easy to be charmed by, but you knew him too well to trick yourself into thinking he wasn’t being genuine or honest. “So about that favour...”

Narrowing his eyes, there was a flush in your cheeks that you hated was making him smirk. “What about it?”

You sheepishly tried pulling away, but he yanked you closed by is hold on your wrist. Looking down anywhere but his face you felt like a little girl again, only that time you didn’t have to be the one to ask for it, Jon kissed you before you knew what was happening.

Robb though? Oh Robb knew exactly what you were trying to ask, but was almost sadistically enjoying the process of making you say it out loud to him. You flushed more at what other implications this potential side of him would bring. “I, okay I’m not some innocent flower.”

He raised his eyebrows and you smiled indigently, “I mean, I’m still- I haven’t- shut up.” Robb was flat out laughing at that point but let you fail at getting this out with composure. “I know you’ve been with women before, physically..”

“Does that bother you?”

Shaking your head no, it was no lie. You may have to get used to the idea of being married to him, but again, you weren’t blind. You had eyes, you knew exactly what women saw in Robb Stark. “What I’m trying to say, I’ve kissed someone before but not you.”

Much more serious, Robb clearly did know what you were asking, but watched with his gorgeous comforting blue eyes intensely as you whispered. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in front of all of them.” His family, the royals, all those you didn’t know, the old gods, and even Jon. A first kiss in front of him felt too personal, to intimate.

Moving close, you felt his breathe on your skin. “Do you want me to kiss you? Here?”

The room slipped away though, Robb’s voice was so warm and so was he. The hand on your wrist moved to rest at your waist while the other hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you firmly. His lips would brush against yours if either spoke, but he waited for a single nod before kissing you.

His kiss was different. Soft, but coaxing. Like he knew what was holding you back, and just let you fall into it on your own. It was simple and gentle at first, but as soon as you let out a tiny sigh, something in Robb slipped for a moment. Kissing you again, harder this time. His hands tighter and his kiss a little deeper.

Leaning into his front, your hand found the back of his neck and into his curls, and your other against his chest as if they always knew what to do. It wasn’t until you let out what might just have been a small moan, Robb close to pulling you into his lap did he pull away. Pressing a kiss to your forehead and running his hand once more over your hair.

“Can you live with that? For the rest of your life?”

Robb smiled softly at the very new venerability in you. Pressing one more kiss to your cheek, he knew you didn’t mean only having a kiss. But was he happy with such a kiss was your question. “Wait until tonight, I’ll tell what about you I’ve been fantasizing about living with.”

The grin on Robbs face as he pulled away wasn’t the charming boyish one earlier. No, this one was far more that of who he was really, a wolf. A wolf who looked you up and down and made you realize that Robb Stark just might not be as dashing and honourable as he’s led you to believe.

A thought that should’ve made you nervous, but as you walked back to your room, ready to let the girls doll you up and argue about not touching your hair, you started to think that maybe that wolfish grin, actually excited you.

Just when you thought you were going to die of a heart attack, your to be lord father gave you a reason to have a whole new panic. The ceremony was more fancy then any of you involved wanted, not the Starks nor you, but your own father insisted on marrying you off with the royals in toe.

He wasn’t here. Your mother neither. Both of them, Lady Catelyn and Selyse were either sickly or caring for the sick and weren’t here, but Ned Stark was. He was here, and your own father wasn’t. Stannis was not a consistently comforting father, but part of you felt hurt that he wasn’t here to see his oldest daughter, his own heir, marry for the first time.

Instead, the man who had seen you raised half your life here, the one who would be your father by marriage once this was done was the one who approached you. Looking out into the distant woods as you clearly struggled to hold your nerves back. “I didn’t think this was the thing that’d worry you so much.”

Spinning around, Lord Stark reached out to steady you with a chuckle. “I’m sorry, I just...this is a lot..was it this nerve wracking when you married Catelyn?”

Not pushing you towards the woods, he stood beside you an arm around your shoulder as he rubbed your upper arm gently. “Terrifying. I’d rather face a thousand armed men then get married in front of all those people. I certainly wouldn’t have wanted someone as delightful as the Queen at mine either.” You huffed a single laugh out and swallowed the rest. “And I know I certainly wouldn’t want the person I love watch me marry someone else.”

Blood in your veins froze, your heart stopped and nothing but nausea flowed up your lungs. “I-”

He wasn’t even angry, or disappointed. He chuckled with a fondness. “I’ve seen you spend half your life here, sweet girl. Watched you grow up alongside my own sons, and I’ve watched Jon be in love with you since the first day you ever arrived.” If you cried, you’d mess up the annoying amount of makeup they insisted on, but you felt a sob in your chest. “You made him happy, and he made you happy. For a time, a long time I thought that was enough. But I also know for a fact that Jon never saw marrying you as an option. He always was painfully aware of who you were.”

You felt the stinging, and you stood still in his hold. Forcing deep breaths to push away the panic.

“There’s a good number of things I regret about how I raised him. It doesn’t feel good knowing that he’s always felt inferior to Robb and now the woman he loves is marrying him too. If I could do it again, would I even be better. Force Roberts hand harder, be more honest with Cat, let him just be a Stark and there’d be nothing in his way for you. But I didn’t do that, nor do I know if I ever should’ve.”

Looking down, your arms crossed over your chest. “I don’t want you to assume I’m just thinking of Jon while I’m with Robb, it’s not that. I’ve known Robb for just as long, and we’ve always been just as close, save for, you know.” His hand was soothing like a true fathers comfort running up and down what he could reach of your arm.

“Here’s whats going to happen. I’m going to walk you out there to my son, you’ll kneel together before the Weirwood and pray and when you rise you’ll be a Stark. Part of you will always be a Baratheon, but you’ll also be our family now. And no matter what, wolves always protect those in their pack. I’m not going to assume the worst of you, because I know you better then that. You and Robb will be good for each other, and just because losing Jon hurts doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re not willing to love Robb.”

Looking up at him you frustratingly wipe at the tears, and he pulled you into a hug. One that you hadn’t felt in a very long time. It had been too long since you felt the hug, the love of a real father. Muttering into your hair, you could feel the same smirk that you could always sense on both brothers. “Besides, I can tell you for certain, having one night with your spouse before being dragged halfway across the country will do wonders for your heart.”

You laughed a lot at that one. Pulling away he looked you over, gently wiping away the rest of the tears on your cheeks. “Come on, sweet girl. You have a wolf waiting for you.”

If you were being honest, it was a blur. There were so many people, and most of them you’d never want present at your wedding in any lifetime. The golden hair of the Lannisters mocked you, the bored and judgmental sneer of your cousin annoyed you, and the silent watching of an Uncle who you barley knew anymore, but you were thankful that this wasn’t in a sept.

The crowd silent, no words spoken by anyone except you and Robb. He looked tall and fierce, curls shining more red in the peeking sun through the leaves, eyes bright and blue like the sea as he looked at nothing and no one but you. The fur around his shoulders making him look large like the wolf he was said to be, and soon it too would be yours.

Whatever small words you exchanged, you heard none of it but the blood in your veins. Thankful when Robb took your hand and knelt down with you, facing away from the crowd. The Seven was what you were raised to pray too, but you were a wolf now. And the wolves answered to the Old Gods.

A fate you were perhaps always meant to have, feeling much more heard in your silence of the Weirwood then you ever did in a sept. Eyes open, looking up the carved face at the same time, the crowd was silent, Robb grabbing both your hands to stand as he kept your eyes.

Draping the very fur he wore over your shoulders, he gently pulled you in with two fingers under your chin. This kiss was far softer and fairer then the one you shared in private, but this was also all your anxiety could handle. And Robb knew it.

Were it a more jovial occasion, it was tradition for a northern groom to carry the bride to the feast but Lord Stark had the sense to give you two a moment alone and King Robert was more then happy to direct the crowd to where the wine and food sat.

Your heart racing, Robb gently held your waist with his forehead pressed to yours. Eyes both shut as your hands rested on his chest. You left tomorrow, so all you had was now and tonight.

It’s what he demanded of you, and what he wanted, but it didn’t change the fact that it hurt Jon Snow a great deal to watch you marry his brother, and not once did he ever see the transfixing beauty in your eyes.

You didn’t look at him once, and Jon couldn’t get to the wall fast enough.

Truth be told, the first big laugh you had was at the sheer idea of your father here. Meals with him, there was no laughter or rambunctious behaviour. Just silence, diplomacy, and the mind numbing dings and clogs of Patchface. No joy in a meal under Stannis’s watch, except for the fool himself. Patchface there who was only lucky enough to be in a job, because gods help her, for whatever reason the fool made Shireen laugh.

You couldn’t imagine your father here. The drinking, the laughter, the never ending line of food, talk, and fun. Truth be told, you and Robb spent little time there. You glanced nervously at him more then once, and in your bubble of privacy he would rest a hand on your thigh firmly and a whisper in your ear to at least eat something.

Arya tried many times to come and talk to you, but Sansa yelled at her each time. Telling her to leave the two of you alone, the three of you girls would be in Kings Landing together anyways.

King Robert, on now one too many drinks made an innocuous comment about beds, or sex, or something vaguely incoherent and you and Robb looked to the other. You wide eyed and nervous, but there was something in his that settled it. Leaning to your ear, his voice felt like a rumble. “Normally I’m for tradition, but I’ll be damned if I let this lot see any of you like that.”

One of the men in the crowd had seen you like that, but with the way Robb looked at you, for once, Jon hadn’t crossed your mind. Too much nerves, too much wine, and a fat load of worry about being in a mans bed proper for the first time.

By the time the crowd noticed, Ned just chuckled at Roberts comments about the bride and groom slipping away before a gods honest tradition. “I told Cat I wasn’t going to let their be a bedding ceremony because I didn’t want to hurt someone on our wedding night.” Shrugging one shoulder, he grinned almost proud. “Glad to know my son’s the same.”

The worries of what was to come, ended up being broken slightly by the fact that as soon as Robb opened his door, Grey wind was sat in the middle of the bed. Large body splayed out like it was already bed time. Rising his head up at the sound of the door, you ended up bursting into laughter at Robb having to tell him twice to go.

Shutting it behind the growing direwolf, Robb shook his head something snarky on his tongue that died as he looked to you. Draped in his furs, furs that made you look far smaller and the gentle almost innocent look as you stepped around his room. You’d been in here countless times, slept in here countless times, but never like this.

Trying desperately to hold back your nerves, you looked out the open window focusing on steadying your heart. But the warmth of Robb enveloped your back as he reached over you, closing the windows and sealing you both alone. The crackling of a fire almost enough to hide the shaky breathe as Robb gently ran his hands down your arms.

Resting both on your waist, Robb wrapped one around your stomach, pulling you into his chest. He didn’t let you ruminate on the worry, dipping his head to level his mouth with your ear. “If you don’t want this, I need you to tell me.” Freezing in his arms, he spoke almost quieter but it raged so close to your ear. “We don’t have to do anything, but you need to be honest with me about it.”

You felt light on your feet. You’ve never heard this tone from Robb before, never so intimate in your ear and the deep rumblings of his voice felt as if something strong inside was being held back. The act itself scared you, it always had. But another part of you wondered if you should be fearful of the young wolf behind you, or if that fear excited you.

The arm around your stomach rose up, tilting your head to turn slightly to the side, enough that part of him was within your sight as he murmured your name. “I know you’ve never done this before, is it just that, that scares you or is it me?”

Shaking your head fervently, you startled him. “No, no it’s not you. It’s just- I should know what to expect by now but,” Taking a deep breathe you shut your eyes. “The girls in Kings Landing all talk about men and their first time like it’s painful, violent.”

Robb chuckled deeply, vibrating through his chest into your back and down between your legs. It was a dark laugh, and you felt overwhelmed at how little you really considered what he might be like. “It’s only painful if the man is a worthless, brute who thinks getting off is better then getting their lady off.”

Was your chest heaving with you hard you felt yourself breathing, your eyebrows raised and lips slightly parted you felt more waves between your legs and having it all be because of Robb was more then enough to leave you speechless. Reading your body like a book, Robb leaned down more, brushing his lips against your neck. Grinning at the sigh you unknowingly let out.

Turning slightly more you could see him a bit better. “Will it hurt?”

Smiling like a predator, he pulled you closer to him. “Only if you want it to.” Laughing at your breathless expression, asking why some women would want it to hurt. He moved a hand to your hip and pressed his lips closer to your jaw. “Don’t worry. If you want it, we’ll get there. Tonight’s not about that though.”

Suddenly pulling away he yanked his cloak enough that it slipped from your shoulders and pooled onto the ground. Turning you in his arms, Robb gripped the sides of your dress tightly in his fists before pulling it up and off you. The fact that you let him do that, not telling him how little you had on underneath might have been a dangerous idea.

Usually such a dress was worn with layers underneath, and yet, all that remained on you was that which covered your most lower regions. Your softness, plush skin, and tits all on display. Holding your hips, Robb closed his eyes breathing deep for a moment. “For a girl whose never done this before, this is awfully naughty of you.”

Indeed was the charming boy no longer here, but a man, a wolf looking at his mate like prey.

Swallowing the pounding in your heart, you reached up to Robb, slowly pulling layers up and off of him for yourself. His hands were much more confident then yours were currently, but he stood still watching and letting you undress him at your own pace.

Staring was impolite, and yet Robb didn’t mind as you looked at his chest now totally free. Just as your fingers reached for his pants he snatched your hands. Raising them in the air as you gasped in surprise.

“This is about you. Lay down for me.”

Watching you with dark eyes, you couldn’t ignore how intensely he looked you up and down as you lay back on the top of his bed. Your palms bracing you up before being tossed back down as Robb suddenly climbed up the bed and over top of you. A hand on each side of your head as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Do you trust me?”

Without even considering it, you answered the raw truth. “Always.”

One hand reached up, grabbing your jaw roughly as he pulled your lips back to his. This time he kissed you nothing like before. His kiss was rough, demanding and deep. Guiding your every move and commanding that you obey. He tugged your hip with his other hand up to press into his own and as you gasped, he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

Lightheaded, you surrendered to his touch. As if all will of your own bled out onto the bed leaving nothing but Robb to command you as he pleases, and yet the idea didn’t scare you the way it was described by others. Your hands reached up and grasped his waist, a small sound leaving your mouth into his.

Switching between tasting you with his tongue and biting at your lips it, Robb let go of your jaw and ran it behind your head and grasped your hair tightly. Pressing his body down firmly, his hips naturally rutted into yours. He smirked as you gasped.

The rougher he kissed you, the more your hands moved on their own. Reaching behind his neck and wrapping around it to sink into his hair he ground his hips into you harder. A gentle moan leaving you, Robb left your lips, running the same ferocity down your neck. His lips and teeth no doubt leaving marks that a proper lady should be ashamed of.

He didn’t quite stop, kissing down your neck more until he reached your breasts. Grinning at how hard you were breathing, he stopped that right in it’s tracks as his hands cupped your chest. A needy cry left your lips, turning to a longer moan as Robb ran this thumbs over your nipples. Just as one hand grasped one, did he lower his mouth to bite at the other.

Pleasure shooting through you, your back arched into his body and limbs felt like they seized from the pleasure. His teeth switching between a gentle nibble and a harsher bite just to pull a gasp from you, he played you like an instrument. Getting every sound from your pretty lips that made his cock that much harder.

Pulling away, he hovered over you looking down at the almost in awe expression. You weren’t used to such a side to this man, and he seemed to reveal in your innocence over it. Leaning back more, you followed the sight of his dark eyes, parted lips and down his chest to where he hands slowly pulled at his pants.

Swallowing hard, he tilted your head up his a hand firmly at your jaw. “Keep your eyes on me.” Not letting you look down as he stripped himself bare. “Good girl, keep them on me and only me.” Slowly moving down the bed he pulled your hips to, grabbing your underwear and pulling them down.

The coolness of outside did nothing to take away how warm and wet you were between your legs, and Robb forced you to stay on his face. Making you look at his eyes, greedily pushing your knees apart and expression turning dark as he stared at you. A slightly whimper leaving you, he leaned back over you, one hand running over your thigh, first on the outside, then inside, and slowly upwards.

Just as he reached you, Robb bit at your bottom lip. Using the chance to slip his tongue inside you just as he ran his hand over you. Cupping you entirely and already he smirked into the kiss at how soaked you were. Lips brushing yours as he pulled back enough to speak, his fingers gently running back and forth across your soaked slit. “Good girls don’t get this wet, do they?”

Shaking your head no, all you could do was hear his voice. Eye slipping closed as your legs shook and a coil within you twisted at such an easy touch. Robb continued. “No, good girls are sweet and innocent. This doesn’t feel very innocent to me.” Two fingers now soaked danced up and ran across your clit.

Jumping at the shock of pleasure, you grasped him by the shoulders with a whine. “It’s all for you-”

Stammering the words out as Robb now rubbed tight circles against your clit. Your muscles tensing and his own hips refusing to let you close them you had to just take it. His other fingers still soaking up whatever you drenched him with. “I know it is. You ready for me to open you up? Make you cum before you take me?”

You’d say yes to pretty much anything Robb asked of you right now. Nodding, you leaned up to kiss him, making him smile into your lips as he slipped two soaked fingers deep inside to his knuckles. You gasped so loudly, were the windows not closed no doubt the outside world would’ve heard you. Sinking them deep in one go, you writhed in his touch.

Robb slowly slid them out and back, the wetness between you making the sound obscene, but it was the only music Robb could stand to hear. He never picked up the pace, but he did, right as you tensed in his touch? Stopped rubbing at your clit, and slit a third finger down to sink inside you with the others.

You cried his name and he kissed down your neck as he slowly pumped them inside of you. Clenching around his fingers he bit your skin harder trying to force his cock to shut up. Screaming at him like a howling wolf to just take you already.

Pulling back from your lips he looked you in the eye, feeling you clench around him as your sounds grew higher. Something burned hot inside of you as the other twisted and turned so tightly. One free hand, Robb ran over your lips, and something sweet inside you, pressed a gentle kiss to his fingers as he did so.

In return? He ran his thumb roughly over your clit as pumped his fingers slow and deep into you as you came around them. You moaned his name, but muffled it as Robb gently sunk two fingers into your mouth at the same time. One hand grasped his wrist, and yet even as you came something inside you obeyed like you were a submitting prey.

Robb almost snarled at how well you sucked on his fingers, and how he wished you two had more time then tonight. He couldn’t stop the thought of how beautiful you would look on your knees before him, obediently sucking on his cock with his hand guiding you up and down his length tight in your hair.

Pulling out of you Robb pulled your body up to press against his bare one and kissed you full of tongue and a greedy desperation. A desperation you yearned for back. It was a strained rasp of your own in his ear that had him shudder. “Please, Robb. Please fuck me.”

It didn’t even occur to you to try and be sweet or innocent about it. You could feel his cock pressing against you between your still shaking legs and you felt lightheaded at how thick it felt against you. Kissing your ear, he murmured much more gentle, “Are you sure?” As you nodded he bit your earlobe and hissed into it. “Out loud.”

Nodding again, your hands wrapped around his neck as you kissed him. “I’m sure, I want you.”

Kneeling up on the bed, Robb ran his hand gently down the side of your body. His dark eyes soft for just a little while longer, as you felt something in your chest at him. Pulling your hips more up into his lap you think you understood why he kept his eyes on you.

His chest led down to coarse, rough hair surrounding a long, thick cock that you wondered if it would even fully fit in your hand. Your chest heaved as you stared, and he slipped into a deeper tone. “It’s not polite to stare.”

Slipping a hand behind your head, Robb kept you looking down, watching as he ran the tip of his cock over your entrance, up brushing against your clit and back down. Barley sliding in each time until you begged his name once more. This time Robb watched your eyes, as he kept your head looking down to watch him slide his cock inside you.

He was thick, and the stretch itself stung in a way that made you gasp but not a pain that you had feared from it. No, the deeper he sunk the more you soaked his cock. Only halfway in, Robb tugged your hair to look up at him before he in a much more punishing thrust, bottomed out.

His face snarled at how tight, how warm and soaking wet you cunt was and he pulled you right back into an equally as rough kiss. He didn’t go fast, but part of him reasoned to go more gentle, and yet?

Your cries, your begs of his name as each slow, rough fuck had your arching your back into his body all the more. Each pound of his cock inside of you slapped loudly in a way that had him grip your hips so tight, you could already feel the bruises.

Sweat built up on both your bodies and you ran your hand through his own increasingly damp curls, scratching his scalp with your nails that had him fuck into you harder each time. For all his talk, little thoughts came to his mind as Robb fucked you.

Like something of an animal took over and all he could think of was how much he wanted to fuck you more, harder, faster, fill you until his cum spilled out of you and then fill you more. You cried out, nails scratching down his back without even realizing you were doing so, but muffling each sound as you bit into the meat of his shoulder. Robb, fucked you harder and struggled to stay slow.

You clenched tightly, enough that he had to pound into your cunt roughly just to sink as deep as he could inside and pulling away enough he could see tears at the side of your eyes but you rather then begging for mercy, begged for more as you kissed him.

His hands held your knees, pushing as wide as possible as Robb lost composure. Fucking you faster and just as one hand moved to rub at your clit you came around him. Robb leaving your other knee to press his hand against your mouth at how little you could contain your cries.

Fucking into you once, twice, five more times he pushed inside as deep as he could sink and filled you with him. His cum warm and thick, it felt like there was so much more of it then a normal man would have but you let Robb pull you into another kiss, this one rough and sloppy as he filled you with his cum as his tongue did your mouth.

Never leaving, his hands eventually turned soothing, his kiss softer and his voice not commanding but assuring. Telling you how good you did, how perfect you were. Holding you in his arms and him yours, it was just the two of you in that moment and nothing more.

It was only when you started to laugh, did Robb laugh. Yanking you into his chest as he flopped onto his back with you on top of him. Kissing you gently as he ran a hand over your hair. “Aye, a man could get used to this.”

He should’ve let you rest, but he took you once more that night. This time, far less able to hold back how fast and greedy he wanted to be about fucking you. The only downside, was how exhausted the night made you.

Slipping into a deep sleep, that only meant morning would come quicker. And too quick it did.

That morning, you both stayed in bed as long as you could. Robbs back against the wall and you against his chest, far less worried about the lack of clothes either of you still had. “You were born for this, Robb. It’s not in you to fail.”

Kissing the side of your head, things were feeling a bit easier, a bit more normal between you even in such an intimate manner. “Everyone says that right up until they fail.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned. Leaving his grasp to gently face him, your body in his lap. Hands on his chest, your eyes often trailed over him. He didn’t question your gaze, you had to get used to him as much as he was getting used to you. It was still new, no matter how much a decade and a half of friendship had formed the foundation.

No joke was in your face though. “I’m serious, Robb. Even if you don’t believe in yourself?” Shrugging one shoulder you smiled softly, “I’m your wife now, so I’ll just do all the believing for you.”

Squeezing your hip, he rolled his own eyes. “And let you do all the work? We’re a team, remember?”

Saying goodbye to Robb however, was easier then what waited for you outside.

Packing up your hose, you heard the two of them in the distance. “My mother?”

“She was very kind.” You tensed slightly, hoping no one noticed but you very much doubted kind was the genuine word Jon should be using. He didn’t deserve her ire, not now, not ever.

“Next time I see you, you’ll be all in black.”

“It was always my colour.”

Your eyes closed, trying to tune their goodbye out. You had no right to invade their privacy.

Part of you hoped he would ignore you. You wouldn’t have to handle this and you could ignore it, but Jon knew you way better then that. You’d hate yourself if you left it at this. Reaching over you, Jon pulled part of your things up and secured it without even saying a word. Looking up, he was closer then you thought.

Looking at each other, the responsible thing would be to nod, shake hands, say a cordial goodbye. But Jon stood with his bright eyes, a grey so deep they looked black at times and you wanted to cry. You felt pathetic for being hardly able to hold back such a display of emotions, but the love that Jon had looked at you with for so many years was as strong as it always was.

You had no doubt that you looked just the same.

Jon pulled you into a hug, one too tight and too emotional for the company around and yet neither of you cared. Neither of you knew if this would be the last time, and both of you resented the world for forcing that as a possibility. His hand held you to him from the back of your head as you sunk your face partway into his neck and the other into the fur around him. “I miss you.”

“I miss you.”

Already, even in the others arms, the grieving already begun. Pulling back, you held at his shoulders and he shamelessly cupped the side of your cheeks. “Think I could get to the wall before they catch me, if I kiss you now?”

You burst into a laugh, one bordering too close on a cry. But you tilted your head. “Now or never, Snow.”

The kiss was pressed to your cheek, slow and unrushed before hugging you once more. For too many years you and Jon ignored the inevitability of having to separate like this, and it sat deep and uncomfortable in your stomach to do so. Like leaving the other behind would be a mistake in the long run, but you couldn’t understand why your soul screamed at you to not make it. You knelt down, kissing Ghost on the forehead as he licked at your cheek, whispering to him. “Protect him, no matter what you hear me? Next time I see him, you better make sure he’s as healthy as you are now.”

Seeing the other Starks approaching, you two looked at the other one last time so close you could feel the other. You took off with the company as they all headed out to the Kingsroad, giving enough space for Lord Stark to speak to his son alone before they too parted ways.

You couldn’t hear what they talked about, but you knew Jon Snow better then anyone to guess. As his father turned to leave, you and Jon looked from the distance at the other once more. You said nothing and neither did he. His life was up north now, and yours is both by Lord Stark’s side and your future with your husband. A future you wanted, and one Jon didn’t want to get in the way of. But as you both rode off in opposite directions, that sinking feeling in your gut just screamed louder, the further away you both got.

Neither of you having any idea, what horrors would bring you two back to one another.

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #game of thrones #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #jon snow #robb stark

[lilystyles]

gingerbread at midnight.

part one of the sweetest thing series by @lilystyles

the sweetest thing masterlist & my main masterlist xxx

authors note did somebody say christmas fic szn??? if there is two things people know about me it is that i love christmas and i love harry styles. so here u go!

brief description during a chilly evening at the bakery, harry learns how to make gingerbread.

warnings! fluffy christmas baking including niall :) (4.3k words)

grumpy!roommate!journalist!H x sunshine!baker!roommate!reader

* * * * *

It was a snowy December evening and Harry finished work early for a change. Being a busy journalist who worked for one of the biggest media companies in the world, he never finished before the sun went down. Even before he’d been promoted to his high position now, and he was just some young fresh-faced Uni graduate assistant who rarely saw the light of day. Waking up early and finishing late. He was always running off much less sleep than your average person, and even when he was at home he was busily typing away on his laptop. But despite his strenuous hours and stressful workload, he loved his job a lot, and openly admitted he was a workaholic.

This was why he needed a roommate. He worried for his sweet girl while he was away during the evenings. 

At first, he couldn’t think of anything worse, he’d had roommates in Uni who literally made him want to pull his (gorgeous) hair out and swore to himself he’d never do anything like that again if he could avoid it. It wasn’t that his job didn’t pay well, in fact, he was very wealthy and he could’ve gotten a sitter for the days but it just didn’t seem practical to have a sitter every day for the rest of his life. And no, his sweet girl was not a partner to crawl into bed with during the evenings, or a child who needed his attention throughout the day. 

His sweet girl was his spotted Dalmatian named Peaches, who got lonely during the long nights he’d stay at the office. 

Y/n had been the perfect candidate for a roommate. Who he had met through a mutual friend Niall, they went to school together apparently and Niall worked with her now. He vouched that she was easy to live with. There had been a period of time when he had nowhere to go and Y/n let him live rent-free in her flat for a month until he could afford to get back on his feet. She was stupidly kind and generous, sometimes to a fault, but if you had the privilege of her friendship you were so lucky. When Niall explained to Harry what a good person she was Harry believed him. Niall had this great ability to see people’s true intentions, and when he looked at Y/n he saw a beacon of light coloured like spun gold.

Y/n worked for most of the week too, sometimes on weekends if they needed extra hands or she felt like going in, but her hours were flexible despite being a baker, which was unusual for her occupation. But she had a good group of workers who all loved their jobs even if it wasn’t exactly high-paying to work for her, which meant Y/n’s day-to-day life was pretty breezy. And during Harry’s hunt for roommates when Niall mentioned that this friend looking for an apartment with roommates happened to be a girl he was happy, because girls were usually clean and smelt good. Y/n very much smelt good and left a warm touch to the once cold large apartment. Quickly after she started living there, suddenly vases of flowers appeared everywhere, paintings were strung up on his grey walls, hand-knitted rugs found their way onto the couch, food was baking in his oven and Y/n’s contagious warmth filled every room. Harry had grown up with just his mum and sister and there was something he liked about having a feminine touch that made it feel homely. He liked how soft, caring, and gentle they were. Y/n was so sweet, whenever he had a bad day she made a tea and let him complain for however long he needed. And she and Peaches got on great, Y/n took her for long walks in the park near their flat and sometimes she even took Peaches into her work and the gorgeous pup would just sit in the front greeting customers.

The tires of Harry’s car rolled against the snow as he steadily drove through the busy middle of the city to the familiar route of Y/n’s bakery. She’d ran it for a couple of years now, having bought it fresh out of culinary school. It used to be a bookshop that was owned by a lady called Miss Green, now it was called ‘Sweets & Things’ and very successful with all the locals. Before they’d became roommates and he’d even known of her existence Harry remembers eating a particularly delicious danish pastry with blueberries in it, funny that a few years later his roommate made him fresh ones when he’d had a particularly rough day at work. 

During the Christmas season the little bakery picked up a lot more. Y/n found herself catering for lots more events starting from October and she didn’t know why but people seemed to need more sweets around this time of year. Halloween needed lots of cookies and sweets, but something about Christmas drove her sales right up. Maybe it was what got them through the bleak winter weather. And since Harry knew she’d been a bit stressed by it all lately, not that she would ever complain that wasn’t her way because she loved her job and was grateful to live out her dreams, he thought it might be nice to drop her some dinner since she’d been neglecting proper meals during the work week.

He picked up some takeaway from this little mexican place near his office, Niall had raved about it a few times now, he got an array of food from the menu and asked what they thought was best. Now he had three big bags of spicy smelling goodness heating up his backseats. He knew that Niall and Y/n would be eternally grateful and Harry wouldn’t mind eating with their company tonight. He forgot not everyone ate takeaway at their desk in the pitch black like he did.

His car pulled up out the front of Sweets & Things and he saw the golden bright lights were still on in the front area of the bakery, but no one was behind the counter manning for costumers. Snow littered the grass and concrete out the front, all the benches people sat at were caked in a thick layer of white and Harry shivered at the sight of outside. His office heaters were broken so he was actually always sweating, no matter the season. 

He parked his car lethargically and the sound of Fleetwood Mac cut off with the engine. He knew that the bakery stayed open until nine during the holiday season since Y/n had been working much later than normal and he’d asked about it, Harry checked his watch, and there was a little bit until they would shut down but it didn’t seem all that busy. And his friends deserved to eat after all.

He locked the car and walked along the path shivering and hugging the food to his body in attempt to warm himself up. He wiped his dress shoes against the welcome mat as he pushed the door with his broad shoulder, his dress shoes clicking on the tiles as he entered the bell above the door rang and he heard Y/n’s soft sweet laugh from behind the counter and footsteps. A warmth wrapped around his body and the smell of sweet baking and pastries filled his nose. 

The shelves with glass casing showed to be practically empty of sweets. This made him smile. Y/n always felt particulary chirpy when people liked her new creations of the week.

He felt his face start to warm up now and he sighed to himself.

“Hello! Welcome to Sweet & Things, what can I get y—” Y/n’s voice began in her usual script to customers stopping when she saw him, “Oh, Harry! What are you doing here?!” 

She rushed around the counter to come give him a cuddle in greeting. That was something about Y/n that took him a while to get used to, she was very physically affectionate. He opened his arms for her and held her happily. 

She looked cute as ever. Dressed in an apron that was covered in all sorts of powder and a little pink blouse that hugged her figure, paired with her favourite well-loved Levi’s, her shoes were these dark pink boots that made little clicks on the tiles. She looked beautiful, despite the fact she was running off less sleep than usual, she’d been here since the early morning and was probably very tired by now. Her hair was up in a messy bun that she’d thrown back with a pen and her face was bare of much makeup today. She was just in some lip balm that he could smell was strawberry-scented.

She pulled back from his warm arms and smiled up at him as if she hadn’t seen him weeks when in reality he’d driven her to work that morning. They carpooled and in the evening she’d either walk or catch the bus but usually Niall offered her a lift home.

“I just thought I’d bring you and Niel dinner, it’s from that Flaming Green Jose’s place he was talking about.” He said showing the bags of food. 

Y/n smiled this really big grin that Harry loved to make appear on her precious face. 

Y/n knew Harry was a bit of a grumpy old bastard sometimes, he tended to complain and not like new ideas, but he really was the sweetest thing underneath his stern face and scary resting stare. He was a sweetheart underneath it all. Even though he was so intimidating and tall Y/n always thought he was quite delicate looking. He looked pretty even under the harsh light of the front room, he was in one of his usual business outfits he wore to the office that made him look especially good. Today’s suit was all black and he had a big beige-brown coat over the top to keep him warm in the cold and this deep dark crimson scarf that Y/n had bought him when she noticed he had no scarfs, he said how much he liked her purple one day it was so soft he said and she decided then he needed one too. His long curls of brown hair were dusted in snow and messier now that it was the end of the day. She was sure it was from running his hands through it, he did that a lot when he was concentrating or thinking.

She rushed forward hugged him again with a big squeeze and kissed his cheek in thanks, he smelt so addicting and her head was the perfect height to smell his clothes that smelt like he always did. Like tobacco, vanilla, and his citrusy and woodsy shampoo. 

“Well aren’t you just a doll?” She said with a smile.

Harry couldn’t help but smile back at her looking down at her as a dimple formed in his normally stoic face. She pulled away from him hand still holding his bicep as she examined all the bags in his hands. Even though he dressed very formal always, he still had his touch on things, like his rings. Harry always wore dozens of amazing large rings, and nail polish too. Y/n had conviced him a few evenings ago to choose this nice lavender colour rather than his normal black. He said he would only if she would match him. So her nails were littered in that same colour and she was reminded of him whenever she looked at the chipping colour while she was kneading dough. And underneath those long shirts and pants were so many inked pieces of skin, that suited him more than you’d think. 

Y/n loved when, usually on Sundays which were his day off, he was sat at home in just some pyjamas that showed all the ink and she could ask him the stories behind each while they did laundry. She liked him in suits of course, there was something very attractive about it, but she liked him all cosy and casual too. He barely ever dressed that way, only at home. She felt lucky to see him that way.

She snapped herself out of her daydreams about his gorgeous hands and that cross tattoo she loved when her tummy rumbled hungrily at the smell of the delicious dinner.

“Niall! Harry brought us dinner!” She called out and Niall stepped out of the kitchen. He looked similar to Y/n, dressed casual too, because she didn’t think uniforms suited her place. The shorter man was in a pair of his own baggy jeans and this brown knitted jumper and a pair of ratty old sneakers. His bleach blonde hair was in messy spikes and he had a pair of glasses on today instead of contacts.

“Haz, is that Flaming Green Jose’s?” Niall asked instantly without even greeting him properly as he walked over to sniff and grab at the bags.

Harry nodded lifting the bags in show, the green plastic was printed in the familiar taco on fire logo that proved it was in fact Flaming Green Jose’s.

Niall practically drooled and looked up at him eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. 

“I could kiss you, mate!” He said, his Irish accent dancing off his tongue.

Harry grimanced at him and handed over the bags. “Please don’t. Just take the tacos.”

Y/n giggled by his side squeezing his arm in her usual way when he said something that made her laugh. 

Niall and Harry quickly began to set up the containers of different Mexican dishes while Y/n grabbed some cutlery, cups, and cold water for them all to enjoy their late dinner. The bakery had a few tables for people to sit and enjoy snacks at, and only for one portion of the day did they serve hot drinks, Niall was also a trained barista, which was perfect because she thought coffee suited a lot of her sweets. 

The three of them set up their food in one of the booths that was a cherry red leather colour. The snow was falling heavily outside now against the windows and it had started to quiet down out there. Not as many shoppers or people finishing work were wandering around outside as usual. The storm was keeping people, hopefully, rugged up and warm inside.

Y/n dreamily looked outside as she turned the big overhead lights off and switched on just the fairy lights she had strung up for Christmas spirit. They were a nice soft golden orange glow for them to eat. 

The three friends enjoyed their dinner quietly as the radio hummed some old jazz Christmas songs, they were all huddled together really close and Y/n leaned into Harry sleepily which he didn’t mind at all. The bakery was warm but Y/n felt chilly now that she was sweating away in the kitchen. Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulder to help warm her as they lazily chewed down their food. Even though he’d stripped himself of his massive coat and scarf he was still rather warm. 

Niall was right it was quite good food and a family-run business which was always nice to support. Y/n knew how it hard was to be a little business in the busy city of London.

The three chatted about nothing particularly worth noting, just talking about normal Harry, Y/n, and Niall things and enjoying the food. Harry was very hungry so he’d barely spoken a word just chewing lazily beside Y/n. When all the food was gone and they all felt sufficiently full Y/n kissed Harry’s cheek once more. 

“Thanks again for dinner, H.” She said softly eyes drooping, now that’d she been fed she was getting a bit sleepy.

He smiled, a big one for Harry, he was almost showing teeth. 

“I know how hard y’guys have been workin’, just wanted to help in some way.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. And it wasn’t too much of a big deal but the fact he’d thought of them when he’d gotten the night off was sweet, he was so busy and he chose to spend some free time helping friends. That hardly matched his scary persona.

This made Y/n’s heart swell and she spoke softly. “Thanks, Haz.”

“Yeah mate, you’re the best.” Chimed Niall wiping his face with a napkin. Niall had devoured his food contently. 

Their little dinner together was interrupted by the door swinging open, the bell ringing, and a couple of two walked in. 

Y/n stood up, moving from the warmth of Harry. 

“Hi! How can I help you?” She said plastering a smile on her face, walking over and tying the back of her apron back on.

The couple ordered a few Christmas cookies decorated like pieces of art and some cream horns that Y/n had made that morning. Y/n handed them their bags took their change and waved goodbye. 

“Have a good night!” She chirped to them.

They smiled and waved. “You too, Y/n!”

Y/n came back over and sat down again, looking over to Niall tucking her knees up to her chest. “Is it gingerbread time then, Ni?”

Niall nodded throwing his head back with a sigh. 

Gingerbread could be quite tedious. Especially the way Y/n decorated them. She really made them all individual pieces of art just for people to eat them. Which was beautiful, but also very time consuming.

Harry looked over, “I thought gingerbread was quite easy, Y/n makes it so quickly.”

Niall scoffed. “That’s because Y/n’s a machine. But even she can’t do this many cookies alone.”

Harry looked over at the tired pair of bakers and down at his hands. He tried to think of the last time he’d made gingerbread. Must have been with his sister Gemma when they were kids visiting their grandparents. But he thought if he could get an interview with James Hadden (a man who notoriously never answered questions to the media) then he could bake some cookies. How hard could it be? 

“Let me help then. Many hands make light work.”

Y/n blinked. “You hate Christmas,” she stated.

He looked over at her. “But I like your Christmas cookies.”

Y/n decided not to fight him on it. “Alright. Niall find him an apron I’ll start setting up.”

Y/n began getting out all the ingredients they’d be needing this way they could each make a batch to save time. She grabbed flour pouring enough into three bowls for each batch, some unsalted butter, brown sugar from the cupboard, some eggs from the fridge, baking soda, milk, and all the spices. As she looked at the array of ingredients laid out on the steel bench she noticed she was missing the most with most important ingredient; golden syrup.

She walked to the stock cupboard and saw the big bottle of golden syrup sitting on the tallest shelf. Adam, a really tall baker, had been working earlier he must’ve put it there. Y/n tried to reach on her tiptoes though it was no use, her fingernails only just grazed it.

When a hand came out from behind her gripping the big can it startled her and she turned to see Harry standing behind her.

“Oh, you scared me,” She giggled.

“Sorry, Love.”

She followed him back out to the kitchen. He placed the big can down on the bench and she took in his form. His long shoulder-length hair was pulled back in a bun now, and he’d taken off his suit jacket and tie, his black shirt was rolled up to his elbows and the buttons on his collar were undone. He had an apron on now too, one of Y/n’s collection, it was pink and frilly with flowers.

Y/n softly explained to Harry the process of making the batter and he was intently listening to her every word watching her through his lashes. Soon enough the dough was perfect and all three of them rolled out the dough the perfect width which meant Harry had to re-roll it. Once Y/n gave a thumbs up of approval they began using the cookie cutter shapes and cutting the cookies out. 

Harry had the make hearts and stars, Niall made gingerbread men and women, and Y/n made circles and snowflakes. 

Eventually, they put in their first batch, a little after 10. They kept re-rolling the dough and cutting as many as they could until the batches vanished. Harry was very good and gentle with his technique, and some were wonky but Y/n loved that he was helping and it took her years to perfect her cookies so he was doing very well for his first time. She selfishly wanted to keep his batch for them to go home and eat but she didn’t. 

By 11 all the batches were cooked or still cooking. Niall was on oven duty and Y/n was teaching Harry how to decorate. 

The ginger people were decorated all classic. White iced smiley faces and an outline around their body, little chocolate buttons for the outfits and a pinch of icing sugar to look like snow. Harry tried his best to do them and Y/n loved their imperfections it was like real people; all individual.

The others needed to be painted in colourful swirls of festive landscapes and honestly, they looked like individual paintings. Harry was amazed at her steady hand and ability to decorate such creative and individual designs for each cookie.

“Y’like tha’ bloody Andy Wharol of cookies, Y/n.” He said.

And she giggled her concentrated face cracking to a smile. She looked over at him. “It’s just practice.”

“No, it’s not.” Said Niall, from his station. “I’ve been practising for ages, your baking is just pure talent.” 

By midnight the last batch had cooled down and they were all decorating together and Y/n was humming along to the Christmas playlist she had put on. 

Niall twirled Y/n around and they sang along goofily. Niall and Y/n had been friends since culanary school which felt like years ago now. They were only teenagers then. All baby-faced and wide-eyed, now they were older and still just as immature when put together. When Y/n opened her bakery and she needed extra hands he was the first person she called. 

Niall was her best friend, and Harry had easily become her other one. Even though she was so tired and it was late, and her feet ached. The boys made it better. Niall singing into a spatula and Harry refusing to dance or sing was what kept her going the final stretch. She stopped decorating to go over to Harry, she looped her arms through his waist forcing him to step away from the bench and she tried to make him sway with her. 

His body stayed still and she moved closer to the front of him, in hopes of seeing his face. 

“C’mon! Dance, Grinch!”

“I don’t even dance when it isn’t Christmas, Y/n.”

She huffed arms crossing, “Please?” she asked, fluttering her eyes best of her ability in hopes of convincing him. 

Harry melted at the sight. She was so cute, even Harry couldn’t say no to her. He sighed like it was the most horrible task anyone could’ve asked him and she held out her hand with a smile. He grabbed it and she raised her hand for him to twirl under and he obliged spinning even though he was much taller than her. She leaned in close to him hands landing on his hips as his landed on her shoulders in an embrace while they swayed. She sang softly, and very off-key and Harry just shook his head. 

She was like a ray of sunlight, and he was like the moon. She looked up at him, “Thanks for helping,” she said softly.

“Of course….you’ve done way more for me.” He said.

She just shook her head and was about to reply but Niall cut them off. 

“I gotta’ get home to Max soon.” Max was Niall’s recent boyfriend. 

“Sorry, let’s get back too it.” Y/n said pulling away from Harry.

By almost 1 AM they were finished with every cookie. It was perfect. They would probably all sell out tomorrow. Y/n grabbed two handfuls one for Niall and one for Harry. She wrapped them like she would for costumers. She tied two pink ribbons and handed one to Niall. 

“Thank you for all your hard work, Ni, I’ll see you Monday?” He nodded smiling in his easy going way, and pecked her cheek.

“Bye, Pet, see you Monday.” They waved him off and they heard him leave when the bell chimed.

Y/n and Harry turned the lights off and grabbed there things. Y/n put on her layers of clothes. A big red coat, her lavender scarf, and her blue beanie that had a fuzzy ball on top. She grabbed her bags and keys and they locked up the shop. 

At least tomorrow both her and Harry had the day off. 

The walk to the car was brisk but short, the snow had stopped now and but it was still freezing. The pair stayed close by to one another, trying to keep warm as they walked quickly to the car. 

Harry started the car as fast as he could and cranked the heat and while they waited for it warm up they finally tried the few pieces of gingerbread she’d saved for them.

“Y/n this is so fucking good.” He said looking over at her. His hair was back down and he’d put on all his layers too. She smiled. 

“All you, H.”

He just shook his head. “You’re the best.”

She looked over blushing. “And you’re the sweetest.”

#harry styles #lilystyleswrites #lilystylesblog #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles x y/n #lilystyles #harry styles one shot #writing #harry #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry blurb #harry imagine #harry au #harry prompt #harry styles prompt #one direction #1d #harry styles album #meet me in the hallway #sign of the times #carolina #two ghosts #sweet creature #only angel #lhh!harry

[freestyle-crocodile-trashpile]

A fate worse than death

Summary:Finding out why your call Death isn't as fun as hearing about it

Type:Scenario: 141 + Los Vaqueros X M!Reader

Version:Mw2

~

They were told that you could get your hands dirty. There's been jokes, about how to never mess with you. The people that knew you well watched their tongue and was extra careful around you then anyone else. The people that knew you well weren't scared of Ghost. Price was worried the first time you met Ghost. No one that knew how you fought would spar against you. They should have token the warning. The shadow company knew you, Shepherd knew you, Price, Graves, Alejandro, Laswell, All the leaders you've met. They knew you. Yet, with all that knowledge, knowing why you were called death they still fucked around and found out. Not Price or Alejandro or Laswell. But Graves. You were called Death, and when you hunted someone down people would tell them "A fate worse than death, is heading your way". You were labed as death and it'd be unfortunate to find out way first hand, not just hearing about it, cause when you hear about it, it's not as scary. It'll give you an imagine or a slight unsettling feeling stuck in your stomach for quite some time. A day. A month. Possibly a few minutes, or hours. Or even just a few seconds. But it never stayed long enough to make you permanently scared of someone, or something. So when watching you stand there, still, quiet, angry. It makes you wonder, what are you about to do. When your as well known as you are why would you just stand there. Some people slowly backed away, like Price and Alejandro. Ghost, Gaz, and Soap watched from their sniper positions. Rudy followed Alejandro, staying close behind. Laswall was trying to get insight of what's happening from Price. Graves was no where to be seen. But infront of you was a shadow company, holding his gun to your head, pressing to your head actually. You could see his shaking hands and all he could see were two eyes, that would probably be glowing red if they could. Your eyes said everything for you. You weren't happy, especially with a gun to your head. The shadow knew that he had a chance to run, to be safe away from you. But he didn't take the chance. He left it for his teammates who were long killed, him having no knowledge of that of course. Ghost had his scope on the man's head ready to shoot if needed, Gaz was watching a little closer with his sniper rifle same with Soap. Price didn't know exactly what was about to happen but he knew it wasn't gonna be pretty.

"Shoot him soldier!"

The shadow company soldiers shoulder radio went off, it was commander Phillip Graves. Who currently was watching from another place. No where near where the soldier was.

"You have the shot, Take it!"

Graves yelled again that's when the shadow made a grave mistake(get it?) He let go of his gun with one of his hands to respond to his commander. You seen the flick of regret in his eyes as you grabbed his gun, that was now only held by his weaker hand, and yanked it away from him. Instead of shooting him, you smashed the gun as hard as possible in the cheek bone, completely shattering the said bone. He fell back abit grabbing his face, you took that opportunity to smash the gun down on the top of his head, causing the gun to slightly crash his skull, but not enough to damage him to bad. But you didn't stop there. If you did he could have recovered with minor injuries. But no. You continued to smash the gun against his head until he fell all the way to the ground. Now standing over him breathing heavily you gripped the gun and looked at his thigns. Most people would have just killed him, but you? Your like a sloth bear, you inflict the most damage possible instead of killing. You smirked devilishly before repeatedly bashing his thign bone in, his femur bone the most painful bone in your body to break, also one of the strongest. You beat his leg with the butt of his gun watching as it slowly tore itself apart, his bone breaking more and more with every hit, his blood hitting your clothes, skin, shoes, gun, everything. Price covered his mouth horrified at the sight of blood, even though he's been in the military since he was sixteen he's never seen something like this. Alejandro couldn't look away, he didn't want to but it was hard to look away, and Rudy he stood there, gun at his feet, wide eyed as he thought stared. The snipers on the other hand couldn't see what was happening very well. The shadows screams echoed every second across the trees and large rocks surrounding him. You sudden stopped beating one of his legs but kept the gun digged inside of the area where a bone use to be, you looked in the man's eyes and smiled before moving to the other leg. If he survived, he wouldn't live much longer. You repeated the same process to his other leg this time a bit slower, just so he could feel it more. The shadow could feel his bone caving in on the bottom of his thign, he couldn't feel his other leg but he could feel the cold air hitting the inside of both of his thigns. Feeling the butt of the gun repeatedly hit his thign felt way worse than he could even imagine, his leg was turning to mush as you beat it with the steel gun. If you looked at his thigns with any light you'd see the way his muscle, nerves, veins even have caved in, you could see the way his bone broke and shattered due to direct contact. His muscles just looked like raw, boneless, chicken. A slightly brighter pink, covered in dark red blood causing you to not be able to see the pink muscle. The nerves sticking to muscle and bone as it was beaten done and destroyed by you, his viens also latching on to muscle and bone, just thicker and more noticeable than the white thin nerves. You can't see how all the muscles connected due to it being red gooey muse now. The man was only alive due to the adrenaline and pain running through his body. You backed away a bit and dropped the gun, looking at your work you turned your head to look at the three behind you. Price was horrified, slightly shaking, his hand covered his month as a instant reaction. He was like a deer in headlights. Alejandro had to turn around and throw up a couple time due to the bloody sighting. So he was hunched around a pile of puke turning his best to not turn around or puke again. Rudy had snapped out of it due to Alejandro puking. He had to stay strong for Alejandro.

"P...Please"

You turned your head back to look at the man.

"P..please j...just let me-me go..."

You leaned down and grabbed his hair pulling him up to look at you. Tilting your head you looked the shadow dead in the eyes with a look that could scare the devil. And smirked

"And how would you do that? Mm?"

The man only whined in pain as you dropped him. Chuckling you pressed your foot to the shadows head.

"Aww it was fun, but now it's your turn to sleep tight"

You then lifted your foot, bringing it down at a fast paste, the man moved as fast as he could. Grabbing a throwing knife and jabbing it into the sole of your shoe and foot, you let out a scream and you slightly jumped away from the man, causing him to flip himself around and drag himself. Not caring that the grass, the dirt, and small insects along with bacteria was getting into his busted open thigns, getting on his bloodly, beaten muscles. He was basically rubbing the, still intact, muscles and fibers into the disgusting earth below him. Causing infections and sickness to weld up in his opened legs. He thought he was getting far with slowly dragging himself away, but he didn't know or see you yank the knife out of the bottom of your foot. Throwing the knife into the man's shoulder you grabbed the knife ripping it out causing him to stop and scream due go the sudden pain in his shoulder, head dropping into his arm he tried to contain himself, you had other plans. You dropped to your knees, having them planted on both sides of him. Digging the knife slowly into the top of his back, you slowly pulled the knife towards your pelvis. Cutting him open all the way down his back. Once his back was cut open you reached your hands into his and gripped his now open skin, the inside was still tight, feeling the organs pressed against your fingers and knuckles. As quickly and hard as you could you pulled your hands up ripping his skin away from the tightness it was in before. Dropping his heavy skin to the ground you reached both of your hands in and grabbed a rib, holding the base of the ribcage you started to break every. Single. One. Using his screams and crying out as motivation to keep going once you broke last rib you stood up and pulled his head up with your now bloody hand. Laughing hysterically at the pained look on his face as you could tell he was zoning in and out of reality. Dropping his dropped his head and picked your foot up and dropping it down, repeatedly. You crushed his head like a balloon, it popped and blood went everywhere, the surrounding around was covered in blood, in beaten organs, and hungry insects. When you finally stepped away from the body you limped over to the others not daring to look back at the mess you've made. As the bugs start to eat the man enjoying the fresh and large meal, the others couldn't look you in the eye.

"Shall we get going then?"

You asked with a slight smile as you patted Price's shoulder and Alejandro's back you continued on. You four met up with the snipers who were confused. They couldn't see what was happening since the trees and the other three were covering it, Ghost could kinda see what happened since he was higher up then the other two but still didn't really know. So seeing your cover head to toe in someone else blood, a shaky and wide eyed Price, Alejandro covered in his own puked and Rudy holding Alejandro up, being his own source of strength currently. They were confused, very confused.

"Oh my, what happened?!"

Gaz was very worried and alittle scared, hes never seen his Captain so scared before. Soap could only stare at the people who he thought could never be scared. And Ghost was quiet, he knew you did something, not necessarily to them but infront of them, he knew it was because of you.

"Don't worry about it, we all got a helicopter to catch don't we?"

You said with a slight laugh before limping past them to the helicopter lending zone. The snipers were left confused but either way everyone got to the helicopter on time and went back to the base. Meanwhile Graves was staring at a black screen stunned, quite, as white as a ghost. He couldn't believe what he just seen. No, he refused to believe what he seen. It was from that point on no one who was a witness to what you did could look at you without removing that day, you had scared the Captian shitless and was seen as, The fate worse than death.

~

[A/n:If I'm being honest it's not as gruesome as I wanted. I hoped you enjoyed]

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x male reader #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty mw2 #modern warfare #modern warefare ii #modern warefare 2 x reader

[octoberclidan]

In the Mood

Request: Can you make DOM Dean X Sub Reader fanfic and we do it to In the mood by Rush.

Pairing: dom!Dean Winchester x sub!Reader (fem!Reader)

Note: 18+ Only

Masterlist

Story

"I can't believe it took all three of us an entire week to figure out a simple salt and burn". [Y/N] shook her head as she pulled some clothes out of her hunting bag, which was currently resting on the bed she shared with Dean in the bunker. She'd just arrived home after a very frustrating hunt with Sam and Dean, where they just couldn't figure out what was tying a ghost to earth. They'd found his body, but that didn't help. Unfortunately, he'd been a hoarder, and they couldn't find any clues to signal which item in his stuffed apartment could possibly be the one they needed to burn. No one in town seemed to know anything about him, other than he had died and was terrorising the entire apartment building. It took them a week to finally find it, and none of them were happy with how it had gone. "I mean, we had to keep all of those people out of the apartment building for a week because I couldn't find one stupid little pin". She opened a drawer in their closet and stuffed some of the clothes inside before shoving the drawer closed again.

"Hey, it's not on you, Sam and I couldn't figure it out either". Dean was sitting on the bed, watching as she paced between the bag and the closet, putting their clothes away and making a pile for what needed to go into the laundry. "Why don't you leave that until tomorrow? Come on, sit". He patted the space beside him but she ignored him, and continued to rant about the hunt for several more minutes, pacing back and forth until Dean reached out to grab her wrist and stop her. "Baby, stop".

At the sound of that nickname, she did stop. 'Baby' was a name that Dean only used for his car, and, under very particular circumstances, [Y/N]. Whenever he used that name, it meant he was in charge. It meant she was going to do what he said, take what he would give, follow his orders. It meant that he was going to take care of her. As soon as the name left his lips, it also meant a feeling of warmth flooded her, butterflies fluttered inside her, and her frustration morphed into excitement. He pulled her over so she was standing between his legs, before he winked at her and leaned over to turn on the record player that he kept beside his side of the bed. He softly started to sing along as the music started to play.

'Hey, now, baby

Well, I like your smile'

He hooked his finger under her jaw and pulled her face up to see the small smile she now showed for him, causing him to smile back at her. He began to pull her onto his lap as he continued to sing in a low voice.

'Won't you come and talk to me

For a little while?

Well, you're making me crazy

The way you roll them eyes

Won't you come and sit with me?

I'll tell you all my lies'

He grabbed her thighs and positioned her so her legs were wrapped around his waist. His hands slipped under her flannel to grip her waist, and she placed her hands on his shoulders. He slowly began to push his hands higher up her sides, the cool air of the bunker forming goosebumps on her newly exposed skin. He kept eye contact with her as he took his hands back and began to unbutton her flannel and push it off her shoulders.

'Hey, baby, it's a quarter to eight

I feel I'm in the mood

Hey, baby, the hour is late

I feel I've got to move'

He made quick work of undoing the clasp on her bra and pulling it away from her. He pinched her left nipple unexpectedly, pulling a gasp from her and she ground her hips against his. He grabbed her hips to stop her and gave her a warning look, and then kissed her neck gently. He reached up to her ear to whisper to her. "You don't do anything without me telling you to Baby, you stay still".

"Dean". She moaned as he returned his attention to her breasts, now licking and nipping at her right one while massaging the left one. She threw her head back and moaned quietly as he worked on her. "Dean please, more. I need more".

'Well, hey, now, baby

Don't you talk so fast

I'm just trying to make this good time

I'm trying to make it last'

As he continued to sing and ignore her begging, she couldn't help herself as she started to unbutton his flannel. His hands quickly caught hers as he gave her a stern look and she whimpered, giving him her best doe eyes. He shook his head disapprovingly at her as he gripped her wrists together with one hand. "What did I tell you Baby? You don't do anything without my say so. You don't get to touch me unless I tell you to. You know the rules. Are you looking for a punishment?" She shook her head quickly. "Use your voice Baby, do you want me to punish you?"

"No". She shivered as Dean's free hand dipped into the waistband of her jeans. He paused his hand and raised an eyebrow at her, and she quickly corrected herself. "No, Sir".

"That's better. Let's get you laid down". He took his hand back and flipped her onto her back on the bed, raising her wrists up above her head. "My clothes stay on".

'Everything's getting hazy

Now, honey, where'd you go?

I just want to find out, baby

Where'd you learn what you know?'

He attached his lips to her neck as his free hand unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. She felt him smile into her neck as she moaned and wriggled beneath him. "Leave your arms up". He mumbled into her neck as he let go of her wrists, and she did. His hand trailed down from her wrist all along her arm and down her side. "Good girl". He whispered into her ear as she left her arms up, not touching him and just letting him touch her.

'Hey, baby, it's a quarter to eight

I feel I'm in the mood

Hey, baby, the hour is late

I feel I've got to move'

Dean slowly pulled her jeans down and off her ankles, leaving her in just her panties. He knelt back on his knees for a moment, watching her as she lay there for him, admiring her. She blushed under his gaze and he smirked to himself before he reached between her legs, slowly running his thumb over the outside of her panties. "Already so wet, so ready, all for me".

"All for you". She agreed, pushing her hips up, hoping to encourage him.

"So needy too, God you know I love it when you're like this". He applied a bit of pressure over her clit, the cloth of her panties still acting like a barrier.

"Please Dean, stop teasing".

He pulled his hand back and sighed at her. "You were going so well Baby".

"No, I-I'm sorry". He continued to look down at her. "Sir. I'm sorry, Sir".

"No more talking Sweetheart, nothing except our safeword. Got it? If you can't control what comes out of your mouth, you don't talk at all".

"I'm sorry, Sir, I'll try".

"You need help? If you need help, that's okay". His dipped the fingers on his right hand into her panties and started to pull them down by the waistband. He watched her for her response, and when she nodded at him, he pushed two of his left hand fingers into her mouth. She licked at them and hummed in content as she helped him kick off her panties. Once they were gone, he returned his free hand to between her legs.

'Hey, baby, it's a quarter to eight

I feel I'm in the mood

Hey, baby, the hour is late

I feel I've got to move'

His thumb circled around her clit, dipping lower to collect some of her wetness before returning to her clit. He felt the vibrations of her moan against his fingers in her mouth. He slowly slipped his index finger inside of her, and both of them moaned at the sensation of her clenching around him. He slipped his middle finger in too, and began to curl them towards her stomach, hitting just the right spot.

'Well, hey, now, baby

I said I like your style

You really got me, baby

Way down deep inside

Ooh, you drive me crazy

Baby, you're the one'

She felt the pleasurable pressure build inside her, and she bucked her hips up towards him. He took his hand back from her mouth to push her hips back down as he began to focus more attention on her clit, and she moaned his name loudly as she came, he encouraged her to be as loud as she wanted this time. He helped her ride through it, and then pulled his fingers back to push her knees apart as she tried to close them when she became more sensitive. He kissed her knee and then the inside of her thigh.

'I just want to rock and roll you, woman

Until the night is done'

He kissed her stomach before looking up at her. "You ready Baby?" She quickly nodded and he knelt back do undo his jeans, pulling them down before crawling back over her and lining himself up. They both groaned as he pushed himself inside her. He gave her a moment to adjust, kissing her lips and cheek before he started to move. He littered her with praises about how well she was taking him, how pretty she sounded, how beautiful she looked underneath him. He soon started to thrust harder and faster, not giving her any time to react between each thrust.

'Hey, baby, it's a quarter to eight

I feel I'm in the mood

Hey, baby, the hour is late

I feel I've got to move

Yes, I do!'

She couldn't even think, all she could feel was Dean between her legs, and Dean kissing her neck. She was completely his to do with as he liked, and he liked to spend as much time on her as possible. The frustrations of the hunt were long forgotten as she felt the pleasure building again, and she smiled as Dean kissed her, sliding his tongue into her mouth. This was going to be a long night.

The end

#supernatural #dean winchester #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester supernatural #dean winchester fic #dean smut #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester smut #spn smut #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #supernatural fic #dom!dean winchester x reader #dom!dean #dom!dean x sub!reader #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester fluff #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

smut headcanons or just filthy smut for the fortnite turtles? 😭 possibly even shredder…?

Random Spicy Headcanons (18+)

Fortnite!Turtles x reader

A/N: I only write for the turtles, which means no Shredder. But with that being said, I hereby welcome the Fortnite boys and their beautiful thighs to my blog! They have been added to my lucky wheel, and will be added to my masterlist after this post. Let’s give them a warm welcome with some smut!💚

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Smut, talk of sexual acts and all that jazz👀

Leonardo:

Mr Mood, setting and aesthetic himself. From Leo, you can expect something traditional, with an underlining of intensity.

If not in his bedroom, then out in nature. To Leo, there’s only a few things better than sex in a secluded area, either by the water, the forest or on open green grass. Preferably at night, while the stars shine above, creating a beautiful space where you and Leo could indulge in each other’s pleasure.

Had Marigold not been under the ownership of The Society, Leo wouldn’t definitely have taken you there. He would have fucked you on teh deck if he had the opportunity.

Eye contact galore! Leo would tell you to look him in the eyes whenever you were getting close, wanting to see the pleasure in them when you would come around him.

His favorite positions are definitely missionary and the lotus, but should he on rare occasions feel feral, he will go for a mating press or doggy.

Leo tends to be the dominant one when you get intimate, but that does not mean that he didn’t take his time with you. Actually, he tended to take a reeeaaaal good time with you, teasing you over and over again, bringing you close to the edge, before suddenly stopping, smiling innocently when you would start to complain at the loss of contact.

After what felt like hours of amazing foreplay, Leo would finally give you what you wanted, pounding into you until you could come around him, usually with his hand covering your mouth and your loud cries of pleasure.

Leo does have a thing for restraining you. He loves having you laying helpless in front of him, hands bound over your head and your legs spread, typing to grind yourself against him in some way, begging for him to continue his magical work on you.

Raphael:

The king of rough sex, this man couldn’t not care less about who heard or knew about what you were getting up to.

He likes to be the dominant one, having you under his control with his hand around your throat or on your ass, making it red with his three fingered handprints.

Raph likes a good challenge, and you love being a challenge for him. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to partake in a game of Hunter And Prey, where Raph would hunt you down, no matter where on the island you were hiding. That would always end with him pinning you to the ground, and fucking you so good that you would start to see stars, even during daylight.

Raph really loves your ass, either clothed or naked. It is his favorite place on your body to rest his hands, and yes, he will grab and squish, even if other people are around. In the short time all of you had known Jonesy, Raph had already made the former feel uncomfortable with his happy hand on your behind.

Along with his love for your beautiful behind, Raph has a small thing for anal and sometimes double penetration. Yes, he will fuck your ass and finger your cunt at the same time.

Raph does not like to restrain you. He wants to feel you pull or push at him, your fingernails digging into his skin while he gives it to you good.

Yes, Raph wants you to be loud. He will encourage you to be loud, sometimes forcing your head back so your airway is open, making it almost impossible for you to stay quiet.

Raph loves it when you beg. However, he loves it even more when you’re so overstimulated after several orgasm, begging him to cum inside of you, resulting in his favorite way to cum; with a drippy creampie.

Donatello:

If you’re feeling needy while he’s working in the lab, it wasn’t uncommon for him to offer you his thigh while he would continue his work. However, as soon as you started grinding onto his well toned thighs, there was no way he could concentrate on anything else. It would usually end with him slamming you onto his desk, before taking you hard and good.

Donnie really loves oral sex. Male receiving, female receiving, 69, he does not care. He loves it all. Each way had its own charm, and both you and Donnie understood what made them all so great.

You and Donnie don’t really have a sub dom relationship. You go at it based on mood. You feel like a rough fucking? Then both of you will go rough, clawing and biting each other, either while Donnie pounds into you relentlessly, or while you ride him good. But do the two of you feel for something soft and sweet? Then you would hold each other close and share several passionate kisses while making sweet love. A very versatile sex life.

Roleplay is often enjoyed in the safety of Donnie’s lab. Often he plays doctor while you either play nurse or patient. But teacher and student have also happened a few times.

Donnie loves your thighs, just as much as you love his. If he died with you sitting on his face, with his head buried between them, he would die a happy man. Air? No need for it. While you used his face as a throne, he only needed one thing; your sweet juices. But for real, if you one day squirted on his face, he would be on cloud nine.

And yes, just like you have gotten off by grinding yourself on Donnie’s thighs, he has gotten off by squishing your thighs together and fucking the space between.

Mutual masturbation is also something you and Donnie find enjoyment in. Either you could do it over the phone, or you could be sitting opposite of each other, watching each other before lending a helping hand.

Michelangelo:

Have you ever tried getting fingered during skydiving? No? Well, with Mikey you will get to try that at least once. Maybe twice, simply because it was great fun and pleasure for the both of you.

Mikey loves to have sex in strange places, often in very strange positions. It made it much more fun and exciting. And well, you did not know excitement until you were having sex with your boyfriend behind a building, hiding from Loopers that roamed the area.

Yes, you and Mikey have been caught a few times, but guess what? None of you cared. It's part of the fun.

Some of Mikey’s favorite positions included ones where he would hold you up by your ass, sometimes pressing you up against a wall so he could ruthlessly thrust into you. Other than that it was positions with you on top of him, just like a good old cowgirl, where you could bounce on him with all the power your legs could muster.

Skinny dipping… even though he’s pretty much always naked. Buuuut, it’s a great excuse to get you naked… and have sex in whatever body of water you had decided to fool around in.

During sex in public places, Mikey tends to be the dominant one of the two of you, being the one that initiates these spontaneous sessions. But in the comfort of the lair, Mikey often takes the more submissive role, allowing you to call the shots.

Mikey is a boob guy, so of course he would titty fuck you whenever it was possible. It did not matter what size your breasts were, as the sight of his penis between them was just half of it. The other half was you pushing your chest and hands around him, giving his head a small lick whenever he thrusted forward, before telling him all sorts of nasty things.

Oh boy, did Mikey love dirty talk. He loved talking dirty to you, and he loved it when you talked dirty to him. Call him a good boy and how good he was doing, or call him daddy and say that you loved the way he fucked you. Both would send his head spiraling.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #tmnt leo #tmnt x reader smut #tmnt x reader #tmnt fortnite #tmnt fortnite x reader #tmnt fortnite x reader smut #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt leo x reader smut #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader smut #tmnt fortnite leo #tmnt fortnite leonardo #tmnt fortnite leo x reader #tmnt fortnite leo x reader smut #tmnt fortnite leonardo x reader #tmnt fortnite leonardo x reader smut #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt raph x reader smut #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt raphael x reader smut #tmnt fortnite raph

[pendragonsclotpole]

help, i just got slapped in the face with the existence of WILL. be still my beating heart as i write an essay on this man, will of ealdor

firstly, i adore the silent and implicit trust hidden in the first joke that introduces will’s character. like merlin’s been aware his whole life that if his secret is ever found out, he will be hunted down and persecuted, but here comes will with a jab that they both inherently understand is a joke in the macabre style only true friends can lovingly master. the smile they share almost immediately gives me ned stark and robert baratheon meeting again in the courtyard of winterfell in season one of got. there’s also something so normal in their interaction that speaks of a familiarity borne from their equal status and years of friendship. i know merlin’s friends in camelot tend to skew to the non-royal/non-noble, but when you tally it up, those closest to merlin often hold some title that’s greater than merlin’s role as arthur’s servant. gwaine is a knight implied to be of noble blood; lancelot, percival, and elyan are also knighted and esteemed members of arthur’s court; gwen is the lady morgana’s maid and close companion long before she is ever queen; gaius is a physician and long time member of camelot’s court; morgana before her betrayal is literally uther’s ward. i feel like when placed among them all, merlin has a tendency to fade into the background offscreen. obviously the audience knows how important merlin is to the overall story given how much of the storyline focuses on him, and the characters regularly acknowledge merlin’s importance to them or arthur, but all of them still regard merlin as merlin the servant from camelot and few of them are privy to the plots we as the audience see firsthand. and even when they acknowledge him for his merits, his role as arthur’s close friend and confidante takes precedence. look at leon’s reaction in the later seasons when merlin is bewitched by morgana. merlin literally makes a comment about plotting to kill arthur and leon barely even blinks before quipping back, “driving you mad isn’t he?” or something along those lines. except for a few instances with even fewer characters, they never get a chance to know him as merlin the sorcerer from ealdor.

will does! and more than that, he got to know merlin as he is without arthur. we all hype up their status as magical soulmates but damn if i wasnt living for how jealous of arthur will seemed to be in this episode. call me crazy, but it makes me desperately headcanon a realistic past in ealdor for merlin, full of hardship and strife, but never without it’s moments of happiness. furthermore, will’s lone appearance in season one shines some real light on the unfairness of the fate that has been bestowed on meelin. the moment that will points out why he’s been so obstinate with arthur really strikes a deep chord. sure it could be just jealousy, but more compellingly, i choose to read it as a deep sense of care for merlin. everyone merlin has met within camelot, (or reunited with in the case of his own mother) has continually pushed him closer and closer to arthur. will presents a crucial exception. he knows exactly who merlin was before camelot, and who merlin is completely separate from arthur.

will is staunchly in merlin’s corner, and that position allows him to identify a key characteristic of merlin’s series’ long arc: his complete devotion to arthur. will even points it out himself: merlin could singlehandedly defend their home if he just used the full extent of his power. merlin doesn’t, and actively chooses not to because of his desire to stay close to arthur. it’s such a small moment, but i think it demonstrates how much of merlin’s decisions become motivated by his desire to stay close to arthur and to always put arthur first, even at a detrimental cost to himself. merlin understands and readily accepts arthur as his destiny, but this acceptance does not come about independently, instantly, or of merlin’s own volition. it does so eventually, but initially merlin sticks by arthur’s side because of the encouragement of everyone around him. “arthur needs you, merlin” or “arthur is your destiny, merlin” or “arthur is a good man, merlin. he has the potential to be a great king, he just needs the right people, merlin.” its codependent as hell.

sure, merlin originally does not tell arthur about his magic because they do not know each other and as far as merlin knows revealing his magic would lead to his death, but eventually the reasoning changes and becomes so focused on doing what’s best for arthur. merlin can’t tell arthur because then arthur would have to kill him and then who would look after arthur or ensure his fate? merlin can’t tell arthur because if arthur chooses to defy uther’s law, merlin is then forcing arthur to turn against his father and how could he look after arthur then? merlin can’t tell arthur because another betrayal from magic would ruin everything and truthfully, he wonders how would arthur react? merlin comes to fear what his magic might do to arthur and what it’s reveal might mean for his place in camelot more than the laws of camelot and their verdicts.

by this logic, merlin is a magical solar system orbiting entirely around the celestial body known as arthur pendragon. eventually merlin cared more about his relationship with arthur and what arthur thought about him than his own life. in retrospect, it’s so sad that will died so early on, because it strips merlin of a person solely in his corner. will’s death is the first in the series’ long pattern of loss that merlin endures and that eventually comes to define him because people either find out about his magic and their knowledge is directly tested against his loyalty to arthur, or he cannot allow them to know about his magic because it will unravel his relationship with arthur.

will, freya, balinor, morgana, mordred, arthur.

also the fact that will covered for merlin’s use of magic in his last moments just adds to the tragedy AND the growing pile of moments merlin could have told arthur about his magic but didnt. and also the fact that will literally died to save arthur. like tell me that just doesn’t prove my point. tell me. will never stood a chance. tell me every aspect of merlin’s life does not get consumed by arthur pendragon.

i’m all for merthur being soulmates, but god the original series is rife with the unbalanced mess of merlin being wholeheartedly aware of arthur’s great potential and destiny leading to some intense devotion and faith that yes, arthur earns and pays back in full measure but can never fully reciprocate because he just does not know anything. by the triple goddess, it can get so toxic. i wish will had lived if just for that. and like the jealousy arthur gets whenever merlin has other people. because i 100% live for possessive arthur and protective merlin dynamics.

#will of ealdor #merlin #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin bbc #merthur #king arthur #merlin emrys #bbc merthur #merlin deserves nice things #someone give merlin a friend pls #merlin deserves people solely devoted to him #where is the merlin defense gang #hmm #headcanon #show analysis #merlin season 1 #merlin rewatch #gendry waters played will and i unironically adore that no matter what merlin is surrounded by the sons of kings #arthur and merlin #arthur/merlin #prince arthur

[tokkishouse]

(Nsfw) Moonlit Intimacy

Characters: Scaramouche x fem bodied!Reader

Warnings: NSFW-- explicit sex, vaginal penetration, oral (f. receiving), fingering, pet names (princess), implied cockwarming at the end, Scaramouche is probably softer than he would be lmao, mdni!!

WC: 1.6k words

Note: Thank you for 100 followers! I'm so happy you all enjoy my writing ❤️

Under the light of the moon, outside your shared home, you and Scaramouche were pressed up against each other, kissing as if you'd never felt intimacy before. Hands roamed each other's bodies, groping and grabbing at whatever you could.

While out walking around Sumeru, some random drunkard made a couple comments to you. You brushed them off, but Scaramouche didn't let it slide. He let a few harsh words spill out and dragged you home.

That's how you got to the position you're in right now. You hadn't even made it past the front door when he spun you around and held you against the door.

You manage to break free from the heated kiss, gasping for air. He looked at you, cheeks flushed and breathless. Violet eyes watch your every moment, darkened with the familiar and dangerous look of lust.

"Inside...let's go inside," you manage to breathe out, hands sliding down and grabbing the door handle. The wanderer hums in response, watching you enter the home. He stays quiet as he follows you, taking your hand into his as you lead him back to the bedroom. The moment you're both inside, he's stepping forward to guide you to the bed, tossing his hat to the side.

You fall back as your legs hit the bed, sinking into the cushioned bed. He crawls on the bed, leering at you, and suddenly you feel like prey being hunted down. He reaches one hand up and grabs your neck, applying enough pressure to make you gasp.

"You're so precious to me, Y/N. You know that right?" He questions, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. You nod, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets under you. He pushes his thumb inside your mouth, rolling it around your tongue and gathering spit and saliva. You whine, unable to do much else as your lover has his fun. As drool builds up and starts dribbling out the corner of your mouth, he gets his fill, pulling his hand back.

Scaramouche sits back on his legs, working on undressing himself. You sit up to watch as he carefully undoes the ropes and sashes holding his outfit. You bite your lip, rubbing your legs together as you watch him undress, taking in the milky white skin shining under the moonlight. Muscles flex as he slides his arm covers off, tossing them to the side.

He looks over at you through his lashes and his lips curl into a smile.

"Not going to strip? That's not fair to me Y/N," he teases, and you sit up embarrassed. You move to strip, but his hands stop yours.

"No no, clearly you want me to do everything. So just sit your pretty little self still and I'll handle it, hm?" His words make your cheeks darken but you nod, watching his hands slide down your arms and work to strip you of your clothes. They're careful but quick, and soon you're down to your undergarments.

Slim fingers hook under the elastic waistband of your panties and he looks up at you, waiting for you to stop him. You make no moves to slow him down and he pulls them down your legs, hissing at the sight of a sticky string of your arousal clinging to your underwear.

"So pretty, and just for me," Scaramouche murmurs, laying down and adjusting your legs so they're on either side of him. He leans forward and kisses your clit, causing you to squeak in surprise. Instinctively, you try to close your legs but his hands are fast and dig into your thighs, keeping them spread.

"Keep 'em spread for me, princess," he commands, and you nod. You don't get any further prep before his lips are against your folds and his tongue is lapping inside your pussy. Moans tumble out your mouth as his tongue works its wonders inside you, lapping up your juices and exploring your walls. His lips wrap around your bundle of nerves and suck, sending your back arching and forcing an unholy scream out of you.

"F-feels good..more please~" You plead. Scaramouche chuckles against your dripping entrance, and you feel your muscles tighten from the vibrations.

"Whatever you want, princess." He continues his focus on your clit, flattening his tongue against the nub. Juices gush out of your pussy, staining the sheets, and the smell of sweat and sex fills the air. You could feel your high approaching-- it was like a coil tightening in your stomach, winding up more and more. It was just out of reach-- like your fingers were brushing right against it. So close...so, so...

You choke on air at the feeling of Scaramouche's fingers curling inside you. They pump inside your fluttering pussy, coaxing more of your arousal out. Your desperate cries fill the room-- the added stimulation pushes you closer to your bubbling orgasm. Just one more push and-

His fingers brush against a special spot and it's enough to send your orgasm crashing down. He quickly pulls his fingers out and replaces them with his tongue, and you can hear him slurping up everything you give him. You chant his name over and over, eyes fluttering close. Your thighs tremble and twitch, barely able to keep their upright position. It's like floating on air-- your voice devolves into quiet whimpers, even after Scaramouche pulls away from your pussy.

His face glistens with your juices and he watches you, absolutely enamored by your blissed-out state. His hands slide up and grab your waist as he adjusts himself to be slotted between your legs.

"Hey pretty, are you still with me?" He gently questions, giving you a loving squeeze. "Do we need to stop here?"

You hum and reach up as best as you can-- your hands felt like jello.

" 's okay...keep going. Wan' you to cum in me," you sigh. You watch your lover's pupils become blown out. Your words go straight to his dick and he's quickly working to get the rest of his clothes removed.

He readjusts the both of you and you feel the head of his dick pressed against your entrance. It was on the slimmer side but had a nice vein that trailed from the tip down to the base. Your essence coats the tip, working as lube. One of his hands grabs yours and squeezes while the other grasps the sheets next to your head. In one swift motion, he pushes himself in. You let out a pathetic sob, the feeling of being split open overwhelming you.

When he's fully sheathed, he stays in place, giving you a moment to breathe. Scaramouche watches the slow rise and fall of your chest as you gasp for air. You look up at him through your lashes, clumped together by your tears and tongue lolling out.

"How sinful. To think that I did this to you," he curses, and he rolls his hips, eliciting a lewd moan out of you. "How ruined can I make you, princess?"

He pulls his hips back, making you whine at the sudden emptiness. Your complaints are short-lived as he thrusts back into you and begins a steady pace. Instantly, you wrap your legs and free hand around his body, sobbing out moans. The bed rocks and creaks with his movements, the sound of wet slaps echoing in the room. He leans down and captures your lips with his, groaning in pleasure.

Your walls squeeze him as the tip brushes against that one tantalizing spot inside you. Every time he thrusts fully into you, your cloudy juices squirt out, coating the base of his cock in a white ring. And when he pulls out, one glance lets you see that his shaft is coated in your essence, reminding both of you how well he was treating you.

That familiar feeling of an orgasm approaching creeps over you-- like waves batting against a wall moments from crumbling.

" 'm close! K-Kuni I'm close~" you plead to him, fingers sliding up and curling in his hair to tug hard. His eyes roll back and he lets out a despicable moan, his lust absolutely evident.

"C'mon princess-- cum for me. I've got you," he manages to whisper. He moves his hand to between the both of you and starts palming your clit, timing it on the off-beats of his thrusts. Your vision turns to stars as you arch into his touches, and the walls come crumbling down. Your 2nd orgasm washes over you, sending your pussy into flutters as it squeezes around Scaramouche's cock.

He doesn't slow down, instead picking up his speed as much as he could with your walls squeezing. Your high was never-ending as you gushed more and more, drenching the sheets under you.

"So good to me...I'll give you what you want. I'll cum in this pretty pussy of yours," he promises, kissing down your jaw.

His thrusts falter a bit as he feels his muscles tire in his thighs. One, two, three thrusts-- and he pushes fully inside one last time, cumming. You whimper, feeling hot as his cum floods inside you. You two stay there, intertwined with each other. You slowly quieten as the aftershocks of your orgasm run their course. Scaramouche absentmindedly thumbs your waist, humming lowly.

"You okay?" He questions, keeping his voice low. You nod, peeking up at him.

"Tired, want to sleep."

He doesn't waste any time, slowly lowering himself onto the bed. He maneuvers you around, still sheathed inside you fully. Wrapping your arms around him, he buries your face in your back, wincing when he feels your insides squeeze him.

"Good night, Y/N."

🙈 It's been a hot minute since I've written smut.

Requests (sfw and nsfw) are open~!

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader smut #wanderer smut #wanderer x reader smut #genshin impact scaramouche smut #genshin scaramouche smut #tokkis ribbons #irl mutuals dni