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dreamwritesimagines · 7 months ago

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Sunshine [11] - Blast

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Every break up has an aftermath.

Word Count: 4244

CW: Explicit language, angst, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

The month after your brutal breakup hadn’t been so easy.

When Theo was around, you made sure he didn’t notice anything. His happiness was the most important thing for you, it had been that way ever since he was born, so you weren’t going to ruin it. Every weekend, you pretended you were incredibly happy and that nothing was wrong at all, despite the heartbreak you were going through.

Your friends were the only people who knew just how sad you were, and they had formed a very united front to change that.

“We have found the one.”

You pulled your brows together as you filled Jamie’s cup while Nik gave you a proud smile and Julie sat up straighter, repressing a squeal.

“You two are dating, so you’ve already found ‘the one’” you used air quotes, making Nik roll his eyes.

“Not for us!”

“And Julie would’ve told me if she found the one.”

“I’d also be shouting it from the rooftops, but this isn’t about me.”

You threw your head back. “I’m not gonna go on a blind date.”

“Hear me out,” Jamie said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “This guy has been approved in the group chat.”

“What group chat?”

“Our group chat.”

Your jaw dropped. “You guys have a group chat without me?”

“Yes because it’s being used purely to find you your Mr. Right.”

“And we know it’s been only a month since you and Logan broke up but fuck Logan,” Julie added. “I’ve been carrying a magnet in my purse ever since you told me about your break up, just in case I run into him.”

Nik turned to look at her better. “You’re joking.”

Julie grabbed her purse and took out a small horseshoe magnet, making your eyes widen.

“I don’t play about my threats,” she told Nik. “That motherfucker broke my best friend’s heart, so I’ll point this magnet at his—”

“Where did you even get a magnet like that?” you cut her off and she shrugged.

“I googled it.”

“I’ve only seen these in cartoons,” Nik mused, reaching out to get the magnet from Julie before Jamie cleared his throat.

“Our point is,” he said. “You’re better off without Logan, and I think you’d really like this guy.”

You heaved a sigh, resting your elbows on the counter.

“Guys I really appreciate all the effort,” you said and stole a look at Julie. “And the magnet but—seriously, you know how much I hate blind dates.”

“Well does it count as a blind date if we show you his picture?” Nik asked, getting the phone from Jamie before turning the screen so that you could see the picture.

Even you had to admit, he looked cute. It was as if Jamie had decided to find you someone the complete opposite of Logan; he seemed younger than him -around Jamie’s age if you weren’t mistaken-, he had dirty blonde hair, and just from the picture alone, you could tell he was the type of person who liked to smile, a lot. Judging by his white coat, he worked in the same hospital Jamie worked in, and you stole a look at him.

“Your coworker?”

“He works in ER,” Jamie said. “Saved a kid’s life the other day.”

“And I’ve met him,” Nik said. “He’s like a cute puppy but also a badass.”

“And he is very handsome, you like handsome,” Julie sang tauntingly and you ran a hand over your face.

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not over Logan yet.”

“The best way to get over someone is good sex,” Julie pointed out. “We’re not telling you to move in with the guy. We’re just telling you to just…go on a date and see where things go.”

“And it could help,” Nik said softly. “You know, distracting yourself from your ex.”

You bit inside your cheek, then clicked your tongue.

“Ugh, fine,” you muttered, making them grin. “But if I don’t like him, I’ll leave and you guys will delete that group chat. Alright?”

“Deal.”

One of the things you hated about blind dates was that you always got incredibly nervous right before. The urge to text them and stay in instead would always get the best of you—now to think of it, the only person you didn’t get that urge with was Logan.

Well.

Logan was out of the picture, and you had to deal with that.

But if anything, at least Jamie knew this guy and was friends with him, so the odds of him being an ass was pretty low.

You pulled over in front of the restaurant before checking your phone to see whether it was in fact the right place, then slipped a little in the seat. This was by no means your first rodeo but…

You really wanted to just go home and get under covers and listen to Julie’s break up playlist.

“Worst case scenario, you’ll just have one drink and go back home,” you muttered to yourself. “Come on soldier.”

You checked your makeup in the rear mirror, then got out of the car and locked it before you smoothed out your dress and made your way to the restaurant. The hostess greeted you and after you gave her your name, you followed her into the restaurant.

Oh, he was already there.

If Logan wasn’t at the back of your mind, you were sure that you would’ve been excited. He really was a good looking guy, the smile that appeared on his face upon seeing you looked very genuine, and the fact that he jumped on his feet to greet you was a great sign.

However—

Okay no, you were not going to think about Logan tonight, not at all.

“Hi!” he said and you smiled back.

“Hi,” you said and you extended your hand but he went for a hug before he paused and made a move to shake your hand but this time you were the one who went for a hug, so you gave him a curt hug before pulling back.

“Jesus—sorry, that was awkward,” he said and you tried to control your giggle at the look of slight regret on his face.

“No worries,” you assured him and he gave you a tentative smile.

“I’m Hayes.”

You introduced yourself as well before the waiter pulled your chair for you and you thanked him, then sat down. Hayes followed you suit, then motioned at his wine glass and the appetizers.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

“No no, not at all,” you said and looked up at the waiter who put the menu in front of you. “Can I get the same as well? Thank you.”

Waiter nodded and walked away from your table, and you turned to Hayes.

“Uh, hi again.”

“Hey,” he said with a chuckle. “So uh…blind but not so blind date?”

“Sounds about right,” you said. “I mean I saw your picture.”

“So have I.”

“Jamie showed it to you?”

“Technically no.”

You blinked a couple of times. “How’s that?”

“Jamie has a picture of you and your whole friend group on his desk,” he admitted as the waiter brought your wine and you thanked him. “I saw your pic there and I asked about you in a way that was very subtle in my opinion but Jamie disagrees.”

You raised your brows, smiling slightly. “You’re not serious.”

“It was kind of like Jamie was an app and I was fervently trying to swipe.”

A small laugh escaped from your lips and you covered your mouth. “Oh my God…”

“Am I giving off serial killer vibes?” he asked to no one in particular. “Because I swear I save people for a living, that’s not—it’s just that you are very pretty and I’m very rusty when it comes to all this.”

You lowered your hands to give him a bright smile.

“You’re very sweet,” you said. “I didn’t think you were rusty.”

“No?” he asked and let out a breath. “Thank God.”

“It’s been a while?” you asked him after a moment of hesitation and he hummed.

“Listen, rusty or not I know talking about previous relationships is a red flag.”

“I don’t mind,” you said. “Let me guess, you had a long relationship and…?”

“And walked in on her and my best friend.”

“Ouch.”

“Former best friend.”

“Still ouch,” you said with a grimace. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I mean—I changed cities but it has to be for a good cause. At least that’s what I’m choosing to believe.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

“How about you? I find it hard to believe you go on blind dates if I’m honest.”

“Oh I’ve gone on blind dates,” you assured him. “And uh—my friends have made it their life mission to matchmake me, they apparently have a group chat where they approve people.”

Hayes pulled his brows together. “Holy shit, I’ve been approved in the group chat?”

“Yes you have,” you said. “Congratulations.”

“I feel very validated,” he mused, making you giggle. “No seriously, knowing Jamie, this is the same as passing a very difficult exam with a jury.”

“Yeah he’s very protective, especially after—” you stopped yourself and Hayes shot you a lighthearted look.

“Hey, I talked about my ex.”

“Well, I got dumped,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “And Jamie never approved of him, so now he’s like extra careful.”

Hayes hummed and lifted his wine glass slightly.

“Well, on behalf of all men in this city, we’re all very glad that your ex is an idiot.”

You scoffed a laugh and lifted your glass as well.

“Yeah well,” you trailed off, trying your hardest to not let your thoughts drift to Logan. “So you’re an E.R. doctor?”

“I am,” he said. “And you?”

“Oh I…I’m just a waitress,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, that feeling of inadequacy hitting you out of nowhere once again. “Nothing too exciting.”

“Do you like where you work?”

“Yeah, I’m friends with everyone there except my boss,” you said. “It’s pretty nice. And you? I heard you saved a kid’s life the other day.”

A bright smile appeared on his face. “Yeah, that’s why I like working in the E.R. I can actually make a difference in just seconds, you know? It makes me feel alive, like I’m doing something right with my life.”

You nodded your head. “I can imagine. Sounds wonderful, really.”

He sipped his wine.

“So tell me more about you,” he said. “Jamie says you have a son?”

“Yeah!” you said, your eyes lighting up at the mention of Theo. “Yeah I do. Theo. He’s the cutest kid in the world, and I’m very objective about it.”

That made him laugh. “At first I thought Jamie was a father, with all the drawings in his office…”

“Oh he still keeps those?”

“With all due respect, it’s like a shrine in his office.”

“You should see his and Nik’s fridge, they have like one picture there and the rest is Theo’s artwork.”

“Really?”

“He had his artist phase, now he’s—” you started but were cut off when your phone started buzzing. You gave him an apologetic look.

“Excuse me,” you said as you grabbed it out of your purse, but as soon as you saw the name flashing on the screen, your heart dropped.

Logan.

A part of you -the petulant part of you- wanted to reject the call but you took a deep breath, then licked your lips and then answered.

“Hello?”

There was a second of hesitation on the other line before he cleared his throat.

“Theo is fine,” he said. “But he needs you here.”

Your head shot up. “What? What happened?”

“There was a small accident—”

“What accident?” you asked, your heart leaping to your throat as fear crashed down on you. “What—is he—”

“Like I said, he’s completely fine, I promise,” he said, his deep voice soothing your fear as always. “He had a nightmare, his powers took over and he blew up the wall in his room accidentally but he’s fine and so is everyone else. He locked himself in the basement though, and refuses to come out.”

You could feel your throat tightening but you took a shaky breath, then nodded as if he could see you.

“I’m on my way,” you said and hung up before turning to Hayes.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, pushing your phone into your purse. “Theo is…he’s in a boarding school in the city but he—he had a nightmare and he locked himself in the basement.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Hayes said, frowning. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” you said despite the anxiety churning your stomach, then stood up. “But I need to go, he must be terrified.”

“Of course,” Hayes stood up with you. “Would you like me to drive you there?”

“No no, I can drive,” you said. “I really appreciate it though, thank you.”

“Oh it’s nothing, really,” he said. “I hope he’s feels better.”

“Sorry, again.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “Is it okay if I get your number from Jamie?”

“Sure!” you said. “I’ll—I’ll see you around I guess?”

“Have a nice night,” he said and you gave him a curt smile, then made your way out of the restaurant, your heart beating in your ears.

If it were any other time, you would’ve been nervous to see Logan after a month, for the first time after your break up but you were so worried about Theo that it didn’t even cross your mind that Logan would be the one to greet you.

Which, of course he was the one to greet you by the door. He probably took your scent the moment you drove through the gates.

He looked almost frozen the moment you stepped out of your car but he recovered very fast.

“Hey—”

“Where is he?” you asked without so much as glance in his direction as you walked past him into the mansion and Logan easily caught up with you.

“In the basement,” he said. “Follow me.”

When you two got to the basement, Storm and Jean were already there.

“Hey, he’s totally fine,” Jean assured you the moment she saw you and Storm nodded her head.

“We could’ve opened the door but we didn’t want to scare him any more than he already is,” she assured you. “He only said he wants you, and now he’s not talking to us.”

“But he’s not hurt in any way,” Logan added. “I don’t smell any blood or pain, and Jean already checked his mind.”

You raised your brows, then took a deep breath.

“Thanks,” you said and smiled at Storm and Jean. “Really, thank you so much. I can take it from here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you said and swallowed thickly. “It’s not the first time this happens.”

Storm and Jean exchanged glances before Storm turned to you.

“I’ll just go and check the other students then.”

“And I’ll fill Charles in,” Jean said, squeezing your arm in a reassuring manner before they both walked away and you ran a hand over your face, then walked to the door of the basement and knocked softly.

“Bean?”

The only answer you got was a sniffle, breaking your heart to smithereens. You could feel your own eyes burning but you frowned, forcing yourself to focus.

“Bean, are you there?”

“…Yes,” his small voice reached you and you took a deep breath.

“You think you can open the door?”

“I had a bad dream.”

“I know,” you said, nodding fervently. “Everyone has bad dreams, it’s completely normal. And what do we do when we have bad dreams?”

“We have hot chocolate because that makes them go away.”

“Exactly,” you said. “So can you open the door please?”

“People will be angry at me.”

“What? No!” you said. “No one will be angry at you, I promise.”

“Mommy, it was an accident,” he said, a hiccup escaping him and you rested your forehead against the door, squeezing your eyes before swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I know,” you said. “And so does everyone. No one is angry at you—Logan, is anyone angry at Theo?”

Logan came closer to the door so that Theo could hear him better.

“Not at all,” he said. “If anything I’m a little jealous. Blasting walls is so badass, I’d love to be able to do that.”

“You hear that, bean?”

“Really?” Theo’s hopeful voice reached you and Logan smiled slightly.

“Sure bub. And hey, turns out we’ll have to decide on your superhero costume sooner than you think.”

“There you go,” you said. “Superhero costume sounds fun—”

A meow cut you off, making you tilt your head.

“Bean, is there a cat in there with you?”

“…No.”

Another meow reached you and you raised your brows.

“Theo.”

“I found him here and we’re friends now.”

“Okay,” you muttered more to yourself. “Theo—”

“His name is Sir Bartholomeow,” Theo added as if it was imperative that you knew that information and you heaved a sigh.

“Very creative bean, but can you please open the door? So that we can drink hot cocoa and I can meet your friend?”

There was a momentary hesitation and another sniffle before you heard the lock turning and you took a step back so that you could see him better. Theo was still in his pajamas, his glasses slightly crooked over his face as if he had put them on in a hurry, his wide teary eyes looking up at you. In his arms, he was holding probably the grumpiest looking cat you had ever seen in your entire life so tight that it was a wonder why the cat wasn’t trying to escape. A breath of relief left you and you crouched down to get to his level.

“Hi bean,” you said gently. “How about we give your friend to Logan so that they can be friends and I can make sure you’re okay?”

Logan stepped closer. “Yeah bub, I can take the cat—”

“Sir Bartholomeow,” you and Theo said at the same time and Logan cleared his throat.

“Yeah, him.”

Theo sniffled again before tentatively handing Sir Bartholomeow to Logan, and you checked whether he was hurt anywhere before pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Theo was still shaking like a leaf and he mumbled ‘mommy’ before burying his face to your chest while you stood up with him in your arms.

“I’m here,” you said softly, still holding him tight. “I’m here, it’s fine. I swear everything is gonna be fine.”

Theo never liked being away from you and that turned into a whole different level whenever he had a nightmare. You would be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to have him in your sight so after he drank his hot chocolate, you had carried him to bed and stayed with him until he fell asleep, humming the lullaby he used to love when he was a baby.

There it was again.

Times like these, you always remembered just how utterly alone and clueless you were in this whole thing.

You could feel the tears pricking your eyes as you looked down at him, then leaned in to kiss his head and pulled the covers over him, and walked out of the room as quiet as a mouse.

The mansion was mostly quiet, and even though you could still hear the voices coming from the kitchen, you desperately needed to be alone in case you burst into tears, so you walked through the hallway to step outside, the cold wind hitting your face. Heaving a sigh, you made your way to the stairs to sit down, and wiped at your eyes furiously before wrapping your arms around your knees, fixing your gaze on the stars glimmering in the sky.

You heard the front door open before the familiar footsteps came closer and you felt him drop his jacket over your shoulders before he sat down as well.

“Hi Logan,” you rasped out, sniffling and he offered you a hesitant smile.

“Hey,” he said, putting the bottle of whiskey between you two before he made a face. “Shit, I forgot to bring glasses.”

You scoffed a laugh. “We’ve done worse things than drinking from the same bottle.”

“Right,” he said after a beat and you grabbed the bottle to take a swig, grimacing at the burn before putting it down again.

“How’s your arm?” he asked and you took a shaky breath, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Healed,” you said and turned to look at him better. “I don’t even think about it anymore.”

He was too smart to miss the double meaning of your remark and his lips twitched for a moment.

“I’d bet,” he muttered. “Fun date then?”

You pulled your brows together in confusion and he nodded at you.

“I haven’t seen you in that dress before and you smell like someone else.”

You smelt like—

Oh. Hayes had hugged you.

“I don’t have the capacity to get into that bullshit right now,” you stated and Logan swallowed thickly, then nodded again.

“Right,” he said. “Of course.”

For a minute, the only thing you could hear were the crickets and the sound of the faint wind in the air before Logan take a deep breath.

“He’s fine, princess.”

You bit at your nail, blinking back the tears before you shook your head.

“No he’s not,” you said. “You and I both know that he’s not fine. Not really.”

“He’s too powerful,” Logan said. “Accidents like these will happen, you can’t really avoid them. What matters is that he hasn’t hurt himself or anyone else.”

You took another sip of the whiskey.

“Having you here helped a lot too,” he said. “He calms down when he sees you, that’ll be good for him.”

You clicked your tongue.

“Yeah, for now,” you muttered and Logan frowned.

“For now?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Until he grows up and hates me for everything I’m doing wrong as we speak.”

“That’s not true.”

“No no it is, I’m fucking up big time,” you said with a dry laugh. “Jesus, my mom said I had no idea what I was doing and I was too busy arguing with her that I didn’t even see it but it’s true. I have no clue.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.”

“I’ve been doing everything wrong,” you told him, blinking back the tears. “He’s too little to see it now, but sooner or later he’ll see that everything that happened to him is my fault, even the fact that his powers showed up—”

You had to stop talking when your voice cracked and you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, sniffling again. He reached out for a second as if he wanted to wipe at the tears falling down your cheeks but then paused, pulling his hand back, his jaw clenching like he was in pain. You wiped at your eyes furiously, letting out a shaky breath.

“I’m terrible at this,” you said, nodding to yourself while Logan kept his burning gaze on you.

“I promise you, you’re not,” he said. “Theo adores you, and I think you’re the best parent I’ve ever seen in my life which in case it has escaped your notice, that’s a lot of years.”

You raised your brows, wiping at your nose before you cleared your throat and took off the jacket to place it into his lap, then stood up with Logan following you suit.

“I can drive you home,” he said and you threw your shoulders back, trying to pull yourself together.

“I had like three sips of whiskey, I can drive.”

“I can still drive you, it’s been a long night.”

“I’m fine.”

“No I want to,” he insisted and you tilted your head, giving him a questioning look. His eyes met yours before he took a deep breath.

“I just…” he trailed off. “I want to—I want to make myself useful.”

You frowned, staring at him. “Why?”

“No reason,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t ask for anything, just…like I said. I want to make myself useful. I need to make myself useful.”

Your stomach did a flip as a painful smile curled your lips.

Oh.

This. You were familiar with this.

You had been through the same. You were in fact going through the same right now, frantically looking for something to ease the pain. Your solution was to follow your friends’ advice and try to date around, ignoring the way it just felt wrong when you were still in love with him, and Logan—

Logan was dealing with it in such a Logan way that it was almost ironic how you didn’t see it coming.

“It’s not going to help,” you said, your voice a mere whisper and he gulped, his jaw clenching.

“It could,” he managed to say through his teeth and you sniffled, shaking your head.

“It won’t,” you rasped out. “I’m sorry, it won’t.”

The agony that flashed over his handsome features twisted at your heart but you managed to smile at him.

“Good night Logan,” you murmured and walked away from him, painfully aware of his eyes following you.

12- Wildfire

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan wolverine #logan x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #james howlett #logan howlett imagine #logan x you #james logan howlett #logan xmen #wolverine logan

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manhandlememando · 6 months ago

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loving you is a bloodsport. | cregan stark

cregan stark x f!Mormont!reader

format: one-shot

tw: (buckle up y’all, we’re in for a ride) MDNI warning: attempted SA, heavy gore, violence and resulting injury descriptions, BLOOD, descriptions of injury to an animal, ptsd symptoms, anxiety attacks, language, blatant sexism, female rage, enraged/feral Cregan (the warning is very necessary he almost bites off someone's finger)

NSFW warning: this work has sexual elements not suitable for those under 18 years old. please MDNI. (piv sex, oral (both receiving), face fucking, praise kink, sickly sweet Cregan, semi-rough sex, the Stark breeding kink, THEY BREAK THE HEADBOARD), no physical description of reader other than female anatomy and hair that is somewhat long.

word count: 12.3k

song inspirations: talk by Hozier, moments silence (common tongue) by Hozier, me and the devil by Soap&Skin, girl with one eye by Florence and the Machine, brutus by The Buttress, seven devils by Florence and the Machine, devil’s backbone by The Civil Wars, shallows by Daughter, foreigners god by Hozier, it will come back by Hozier, to be alone by Hozier

excerpt: The growl that escaped the beast reverberated throughout the small pit, being felt within the chests of all the men spectating. However, fear eluded her as she looked into the animals eyes, accepting her fate with a fury. The cry that left her as she charged the creature could have caused even the most barbarous of warriors to quell in fear. Dodging the swipe of its large paws, she lunges forward with the small blade that was provided to her. If she is to die here, it will be a death of integrity knowing she was more like the beast in front of her than anything as meek as the men watching from above. They will not take my strength, she thought as the claws of the grizzly descended upon her.

- or -

Lady Stark is abducted in the night from the walls of Winterfell by a vassal house of the Starks. Thinking that by placing his wife into the jaws of a grizzly, the Warden of the North would bend to their will. They do not know how mistaken they are.

this story is dedicated to all those who have felt the heavy hand of the patriarchy upon their shoulders, or have fallen victim to it. i see you, i hear you, our rage is valid. keep fighting.

It was a commanding sort of presence that she held, not forceful, but one of reserved strength that cultivated respect amongst the people of Winterfell. Their Warden of the North and Liege Lord had chosen wisely in his marriage pact with House Mormont.

It was this same conserved ferocity that drew him to her, he could feel the magnetic pull of her tenacious spirit the second he was in her acute vicinity. Her eyes held a look that was as firm as stone, and her mind was as sharp as a blade. It was known that the women of House Mormont held a certain standing on their island that couldn’t be found in much of Westeros; women could be rulers, and warriors. Having been raised by her father, Lord Mormont, after the passing of her mother in childbirth. The young girl grew into a fearsome woman, having been trained as the successor to the Mormont line, she was raised as any heir would be; as a son. Given her families ancestral sword, Long Claw, at the age of just six and ten she was a formidable fighter in just two years time. With the full understanding of how she would be viewed as the “weaker sex” by the men on her fathers council, she made sure to mold herself into one of the most indisputable warriors on the small island. No man dared to raise a sword against her unless they wanted to be met with the what most referred to as the “she-beast”.

Cregan knew from the moment they met that he would wed her. They were young when they first made each others acquaintance, not more than 10 years of age. She had traveled with her father to attend the annual feast which House Stark held in the Great Keep of Winterfell. He still remembers seeing her for the first time as she descended from the wheelhouse that she had ridden in. Feeling his heart clench and his throat go dry, Cregan was not normally at a loss for words, but her whole presence consumed him. She was like sunlight embodied, a miracle born within a person. Her beauty touched everything in her vicinity with its warm glow. It was hard for him to look anywhere else when she was near. It was an instinctual feeling, one that arose within him being something involuntary and foreign to him. As if it had been whispered to him long ago by the Old Gods themselves; she will be your wife, someday.

————————————————————————

The flesh of his back had been clawed raw. Teeth marks and deep bruises left behind by her violent kisses had begun to blossom on Cregan’s neck and shoulders. She is a bear, indeed, Cregan thought to himself as an amused expression crossed his face. Gazing at his reflection in the looking glass in the corner of their marital chambers.

The bedchamber was a haven for both of them, the privacy lending itself to their most animalistic acts. The two had been wed only a day previously, not being able to leave the sanctity of their post-coital bliss much before falling back into one another. Ripped clothing strewn across furniture, fur pelts and pillows lined the floor, the carved wooden headboard now on the verge of cracking due to the fissures created in the wood as they tore into each other.

The bedding ceremony never seemed to end, although it never truly began as Cregan refused to allow anyone to view such an intimate act. Feeling incredibly protective over his newlywed, he would hear no argument on the matter because her body was for his indulgence, and his only.

Although, for those living within the walls of the castle it was very apparent that the consummation had taken place, many times. The sounds which echoed throughout the castle that night could be heard by all as Cregan led her to her highest peaks over and over again. But the symphony of pleasure didn’t stop once the sun graced the horizon, or even when it was touching the highest point in the sky.

However they had grown increasingly hungry as the night grew closer and dusk layered its deep blues around the fading light on the horizon. The stars beginning to seep through the darkening navy sky, as if surfacing from the black ocean where they swim to look upon the Earth as the eyes of world did the same to them. Standing upon the balcony which sat just off of their bedchamber, she took a long breath as a small smile rose to her lips, turning her eyes to the shining specks in the sky.

How lucky am I? She thought to herself, knowing that she no longer had to prove herself worthy of a station, or a role in a council. Having been raised as the heir to Bear Island she had always felt a sense of pressure to encapsulate the image of the "perfect daughter". However, her father thought she did not see his disapproving glares or glances of doubt or disappointment as the time passed. He wanted a son, not her. But now she finally knew what it felt like to be wanted, having not known the feeling from her father in her lifetime, it was an emotion she couldn’t even put into words. Her father cared for her, to an extent, but mainly treated her as a thing to be trained and disciplined, rather than a daughter to be loved.

“Darling?” She heard Cregan call from somewhere inside, pulling her from her thoughts. Moments later the large wooden door creaked open as he finally appeared, the softest smile gracing his face as he laid eyes upon her.

“What’re you doing out here? You’ll catch a chill, my love,” his voice laced with concern as he pulled the wool housecoat from his shoulders and placed it around hers.

“I just wanted to get a breath of fresh air before we go dine for the night,” she responds, smiling as he pulls her into him.

“We have worked up quite an appetite, have we not?” Cregan teases, leaning down to brush his nose with hers. “Shall we go?” He asks softly, his lips brushing hers as he speaks. She nods and giggles as he swallows her answer in a kiss. It would be a miracle if they made it to the dining room at all.

————————————————————————

The food prepared for the Lord and Lady of Winterfell was decedent and rich, warming her stomach and easing the hunger that began to naw away at her gut.

“Does the foodstuffs suffice, my love?” Cregan asks, looking at her with an amused expression on his face. She was almost inhaling her meal, the answer to his question being quite obvious. She nodded as she took another bite, humming in contentment at the burst of flavor in her mouth.

They sat in silence as they each devoured what was left on their plates, sharing kind glances and small laughs of amusement. After they had finished dining, he beckoned one of the servants to bring forth their dessert. However, his breath seemed to escape him as he felt a hand begin to creep up his inner thigh.

She had reached under the tablecloth and begun to slowly move her hand to the rapidly growing bulge in her husbands trousers.

“My mischievous wife, what do you think you’re doing?” Cregan whispered, giving her a warning glance as the dessert was placed in front of each of them. She didn’t respond, only sliding her hand further up his thigh. He had to suppress a groan as her palm grazed his hard length, giving the serving butler a curt nod and dismissing the rest of the staff from the dining room. As he hears the rumble of large hinges moving and wood connecting, he knows they are finally alone.

“I think you know exactly what I’m doing, dear husband,” she said as she sank herself onto the soft pelt on the floor beneath the table. Crawling beneath the expansive wooden slab to appear between Cregan’s knees, a smirk dancing on her lips as she licked them in anticipation.

“You will be my dessert, my love. I desire nothing more than what you have to offer me,” she said in a low seductive voice, beginning to undo the thin strings of his breaches. Cregan stared at her with eyes the size of the serving platters resting on the table. His mouth hung slightly agape and a soft moan escaped his plush lips as she finally released him from the confines of his breaches and smallclothes.

“I do not deserve this, let us continue in our -,” Cregan begins to reason, not seeing the point in allowing her to indulge him when he’d done nothing to deserve it. But before he could finish his nonsensical statement, he was cut off in a loud moan as she took him fully in her mouth. The tip of his cock hit the back of her throat immediately, causing her to gag slightly but she was not discouraged from her actions. Only opening her throat more to accommodate her well-endowed husband.

“Fuck… oh dear Gods,” he groaned, his breath staggered as his hands tightly gripped the arms of the dining chair, his self control beginning to lack as she continued her heavenly ministrations. As she rose to the tip of his cock, she revealed the sensitive head to her lips, kissing his leaking tip and circling her tongue around it. Cregan could barely think, the sweet whimpers and moans falling from his lips caused a burning coal of desire to ignite in her womb. She adored the way he could hardly say her name without it transforming into a delicious groan of ecstasy.

“My love - Seven hells… oh fuck,” Cregan couldn’t form a sentence before another moan would swallow his words and leave him breathless. Looking towards the ceiling with brows furrowed and his jaw slack with pleasure, Cregan was a sinful sight to the Gods.

She slowly ascended off of him, bringing her lips to the base of his length and laying a kiss to the sensitive spot that laid just above his heavy balls. She relished in the choked groan that the action elicited from him, Cregan's hand grasping her hair so tightly it stung but she only hummed at the sensation. The vibration of her moan as she took him back into her mouth sent Cregan into a heady space, suddenly feeling himself lose any sense of restraint. The hand that was laced into her hair moved to the back of her neck as he sat up somewhat, gasping and panting as they shifted position. The hand that wasn’t anchored to her was tightly gripping the top corner of the chair as his hips shifted to change the angle; he wants leverage.

Just as the thought ran through her head she felt his hips buck upward, beginning to slowly move in rhythm with her mouth. She let him take control of the pace after several more thrusts had hit the back of her throat. She knew Cregan loved it when she allowed him to fuck her mouth. He tried to be gentle, he really did. But within a minute of such actions he was gripping the hair at the back of her neck with a force as he arched his back and drove more power into his thrusts. He often got lost in the oasis that was her form, his love and lust mixing and becoming so intense even he became blinded to his strength. Although he would never intentionally bring harm to her.

As she took a fleeting look up towards his face, she wasn’t able to find her breath at the sight before her. His head was thrown back, mouth open in an illicit moan, neck strained and flushed red. His Adam's Apple protruding and bobbing along with his moans. The scarlet hue disappeared down past the collar of the thick tunic he wore, his chiseled chest out of view. However, she knew full well how far down that sea of hot, flushed skin really went. She could see how his body was arching off the back of the chair, muscles in his arms flexing with the strain of each thrust. The only thing keeping him from falling off his perch on the edge being his other arm finding purchase on the back of the chair. In that moment he looked down to her and seeing those beautiful hues in her irises staring back at him, he felt himself tip over the edge into the Seven heavens themselves.

She felt the slight stutter of his hips and with a final deep thrust into her throat he came with a howl of a groan.

"OH - ngghh - fuck... yes, fuck like that," he gasped, a low whine rupturing from deep within his chest, trying to ground himself as his wife continued to slowly drag him through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He slumped against the steep back of the dining chair, his legs trembling as he spread them wider and his hands found purchase on the arms of the chair once again. She finally lifted her mouth from his cock, her lips glistening with a mixture of spit and his arousal. He chuckled lightly at the sight.

She is a gift bestowed upon this Earth by the Old Gods themselves, he thought to himself.

"I do not deserve you," he said as he smiled softly, reaching a hand down to cradle her jaw as she hummed in contentment at his words. "You are more angel than human, I am astounded by you with every passing moment we share with one another. I love you, I do hope you know that," Cregan spoke, the sentiment behind his statement clear within his words as well as his tone. His eyes searching hers, looking for an answer.

"I do know, my dear husband. I know very well, and I love you just the same," she said, a smile gracing her features as she rose from the floor beneath the table. Grabbing Cregan's breaches from the furs and handing them to him with a smirk, she moved back to her seat to his left at the large table.

"Shall we finish our dessert?" She asked cheekily, and his only response was a hearty laugh that filled the room with his joy.

————————————————————————

Several weeks following their wedding, the Lord and Lady of Winterfell were torn from their bed in the night. It is still unclear to Cregan how his men had been so easily overwhelmed, how he hadn't heard anything, or seen anything. No one had.

It was as if he had woken from a slumber into a nightmare itself. Cregan felt himself be ripped from the sheets and dragged to the floor before he had a moment to comprehend exactly what was happening.

He reached for his beloved but was met with empty air and soon opened his eyes to find her being held up by her hair, whimpering in pure terror as Lord Bolton loomed over her. Feeling the strong arms of some of Bolton's guards beginning to constrict themselves around Cregan, he fought against them as hard as he could.

"You bastard! What in the Seven Hell's is going on? Let her go, don't you dare touch her!" Cregan yelled, beginning to thrash against the men trying to contain him. Lord Bolton only chuckled darkly as he then took her by the neck and hauled her towards him.

She let out a choked cough as his palm pressed her airway. Pinning her back to his chest with his hand still snaked around her neck, she began struggling against him and clawing at his wrists.

“You foolish… foolish girl!” Lord Bolton exclaimed, wrestling against her as she continued to thrash against him. Holding her still with him other arm, Lord Bolton finally subdued her.

“The ties between House Mormont and House Stark will be forever broken tonight. The Stark household has had control of the North for far too long, and with this new union it is made clear to all other vassal houses that they are less important. It is whispered we will have less say in certain matters, and that this bitch and her feeble House Mormont has more standing than mine own,” Lord Bolton seethed, releasing her neck and yanking at Lady Starks hair once more. She let out a small huff to shroud her discomfort, she would never show weakness to this man as long as she could help it. Although, as she looked at Cregan who was now being held to the floor of their bedchambers, she felt the small trickle of terror slip down her neck and root itself into her spine.

“I will not let that stand,” Lord Bolton snarled and nodded to one of his men to step forward. With much difficulty he was able to get a black hood over the woman’s head, his fingers narrowly dodging her nashing teeth. Cregan bellowed as he fought against the hands holding him down, barely allowing a hood to be placed over his head as well. Spewing profanities and declarations of violence, Cregan tried to make his voice sound as poisonous as possible. But through his verbal assault he could hear her slight gasps and whimpers of pain, and not being able to see what was befalling his wife, his panic grew tenfold.

“Bolton I’ll have your fucking head for this!” Cregan barked, yanking at the hands on his limbs as they hauled him from the ground and to his feet. He could still hear her growling at Lord Bolton, hearing a shuffled noise and a clear sound of struggle, Cregan’s breath hitched as his throat closed. He was powerless, his vision stripped from him and his strength subdued.

“Get off of me you sinister man!” She shrieked as she felt Lord Bolton grab at her waist and snake his arms around her from the back, holding her tightly to him. He had since been able to tie her hands behind her, with much difficulty. Therefore she was powerless to the blade she could feel against her neck. As she tried to pull away from his taunting grip the blade cut into the skin of her throat causing her to shout in pain, the abrupt sound ending in a rumble of fury.

“I will slit this beautiful throat like that of a lamb for slaughter,” Lord Bolton sneered to her.

“You’re fucking dead, Bolton! You’re dead! I’ll kill you myself, get the FUCK OFF MY WI-!” She heard Cregan roar from what sounded like only ten feet in front of her, only to be cut off by the sound of a crack of metal meeting skull. The slump of his body could be heard faintly as he fell limp into the men’s arms. She was then dragged from the bedchamber and into the halls of Winterfell, the bitter cold of the stone floor scraping against her bare feet.

"The Stark family has had too much say in the matters of the North over these many years, they are not the only house capable of holding The Wall. Have you ever wondered what it could be like if your father ruled as the Warden of the North? Or... possibly myself?" Lord Bolton ventured in his treasonous explanation of how he would take control of the castle, as he had already done with some of the Stark's guardsmen. She was struck then with the notion that Lord Bolton and the men he brought with him must have had help to enter and now exit the Keep without being noticed.

"Who have you been conspiring with in these treacherous plans? How did you gain access to the Kee- ," she begins to question sharply, not giving him any recognition on his comments. Only until she is struck again, this time blood sprouting from a small cut on her lip. The taste of iron and musk on her tongue only angered her more.

"Shut up, you stupid woman. You dare interrupt me when I am speaking to you? Such behavior will not be tolerated when you are my wife," Lord Bolton sneered, she could feel his hot breath through the dark cloth of the hood, recoiling from him at his statement. Beginning to pull against Lord Bolton once more, she spoke her rejections to the union loudly, trying desperately to get free of this torment. In her effort to evade her captor, she received the same end as her lord husband as she was knocked unconscious.

————————————————————————

She did not know how long she had been unconscious or where it was she had been taken, but by the biting feeling against her wrists and the throb in her head she knew the attack wasn’t a nightmare. The Lord and Lady of Winterfell had been kidnapped and many of their guards slaughtered. Feared gripped at her chest as she felt rough hands on her arms holding her still, and the cold bite of the wind against the exposed skin of her hands and upper chest only furthered her anxiety. Was she outside? She thought so, but even with the hood over her head she could barely tell if it was night or day.

“Has she awoken?” She hears Lord Bolton ask somewhere in the distance and the soft padding of feet on muddy ground neared towards her. Suddenly she felt a strong grip on her arm, gasping at the brutality of it as her skin stung with the aggression of his hold on her. Feeling herself being let go by those who held her previously, she was then pulled forward, her feet betrayed her once more as she stumbled in the mud.

“Come here,” she heard Lord Bolton growl as he yanked her upright, her stumble having caused her to fall to her knees.

With a flash of blinding light the hood is then torn from her head, and she is not able to see her surroundings for a moment or two as her eyes adjusted to the light of day. However, she could hear Cregan’s protests from somewhere close, but they were muffled. Sounding as if he was trying to speak through wads of fabric.

They fucking gagged him, she thought as she felt anger boil in the pit of her stomach. The emotion making its way into her body as the flames of ferocity licked up her spine and finally nestled themselves in her chest cavity, making a home in her heart. As her eyes adjusted, they burned holes into the figure before her; Lord Bolton finally coming into focus.

She could see the smug expression wash over his sharp features, twisting them into something more sinister than that of what lied within. She despised this man, and all like him. The audacity of man knew no bounds, reaching far and wide, ever perpetuated by its own grueling ends; unable to breed love for one another, men would sooner tear each other apart then see vulnerability conquer over power. As for the women and innocent, the vulnerable and the weak, it is them who are forever afflicted with the agony of oppression, the pain seeping deep into their bones and finding a final resting place in the generations to come.

She knew this, she had known all her life what it felt like to want to be a son. Although her father granted her the liberty of becoming the heir to the Mormont household, it became quite clear what his true intentions for her were when the marriage proposal from Cregan was accepted. Her uncle was then named heir to the seat she had been promised since her first breath.

Men had already disappointed her more times than she could count, and although she did love Cregan dearly, her father had broken her heart as he had his promise to her. Therefore, she did not fear Lord Bolton or his threats towards her, even as he grabbed her by the chin and forced her to meet his eye. Her response was only to sneer and spit in his sullen face, his expression morphing into one of disgust as he brought his hand across her face with a quick slap. Watching his wife be struck, Cregan could be heard roaring against the fabric that had been shoved in his mouth, soft grunts of effort could also be heard escaping Lord Bolton's men as they tried to wrangle Cregan into standing still. The disgraced Northern Lord turned towards her lord husband with a rather nauseating smile. Yanking her forward he neared Cregan enough to reach out and take the dark fabric from her husbands mouth, barely moving his hand away before Cregan could catch it in his teeth.

"Tell me, Stark, is she an obedient wife? She seems fiery in nature, is she the same to bed?" Lord Bolton asked, turning to look back at her as his grip on her arms tightened.

"No! No, no please!" She shrieked as she felt him tear her robe from around her frame, leaving her in only a thin shift. Pulling away from him, digging her bare feet into the earth as she tried to escape his hold. Her hands and wrists ached as she tugged at the twine that had bound them behind her. Her breath beginning to come to her in short bursts as the true reality of the situation had sunk in. Cregan was making threats of terrifying violence towards all those present and participating in this coup. Hurling vile insults at Lord Bolton as he practically foamed at the mouth with fury. However, beneath the horrifying facade Cregan adorned, he was struck with fear to his core.

"Stop. Fighting." The vile brute of a man grunted as he tried to control the woman in his grip. She looked to Cregan then who could be heard howling in protest the entire time, continuing his struggles against the limbs of the men holding him. He held her gaze, the terror reflecting between them as his heart broke over and over again. Cregan couldn't protect her, and as much as he tried, he couldn't seem to free himself. Although, at the thought of being made to watch the horror before him as Lord Bolton took hold of the one thing in the world that could affect him, Cregan vowed he would die before allowing it to happen.

The woman was proving a worthy adversary to the Lord of the Dreadfort, continuing to evade his full control over her as she slipped from his grip once more. Her arms were welted and showing the signs of the struggle she was putting forth. The cold of the wind seemed to lash at her limbs that were now fully exposed to the elements. Her robe had been stripped from her and she stood before the men in just her cotton sleeping shift. The fabric was thin and pale and left little to be desired from the view of her frame, she saw the young knights of the Dreadfort and how their eyes wouldn’t move from her, even if they put in an effort too. Bile rose from deep within her throat at the thought of not only this disgraceful man taking advantage of her against her will, but also knowing it would be for all else to see.

Although the fear was prevalent in her mind, the adrenaline was finally beginning to kick in as she felt the hairs on her body stand at attention. With a final tug of her body from Lord Bolton’s grasp, she stumbled and fell into the muddy earth of the pit below.

With a sharp gasp and piercing shriek she hit the ground hard, causing the wind to evade her lungs and a struggling gasp to pass her lips. Having been standing so close to the edge of the circular, wood-paneled ring, it was not surprising that she had fallen over the edge in her attempt to finally get away from the Lord of the Dreadfort.

She could hear the menacing laughter emanating from above her, the vile sound bouncing between Lord Bolton's men and the Lord himself.

"It seems our entertainment will begin sooner than expected, boys!" Lord Bolton announced, walking towords Cregan, addressing him as he did. "See, I had planned on taking her as my own as the Gods bare witness, as well as yourself. Prolonging your pain would be more satisfying than flaying a man alive, which is my custom as you well know, but it seems the Gods have other plans. After consumating the union of my new marriage, I was going to leave you to the beast and watch as it mauled you for our wedding entertainment. But this seems to prove more interesting, does it not?" Lord Bolton smirks and Cregan only bellowed louder. "If she survives, she will be my prize, and I will have the pleasure of killing the Warden of the North myself," Lord Bolton sneered as Cregan spit at him. The fury behind Cregan's eyes was unhinged, dragon fire could not even compare.

Wiping the saliva from his face, Lord Bolton only grinned, "Hold him still. I want him to see all of this," he said to his men. Cregan couldn't think straight, the fire residing within him spreading across his entire body as he pushed and pulled against the men holding him in his place. Looking down into the muddy pit below, he could see a door being opened to reveal a large, formidable animal, and the fear that gripped his wife as she struggled to free her hands.

She looked up to be met with a mass of dark fur and the small dark eyes of the massive creature before her. A bear, the sigil of House Mormont, a beast that she was raised to respect and model her own spirit after. Something she found strength in, a force akin to religion, something to find faith in; and now she was being made to destroy that of which she had built her own strength upon. The notion of it all was revolting. Looking around her, she drew in shaky breaths, she searched for any form of weapon to defend herself with. In that instant Lord Bolton seemed to find a sliver of remorse in his heart and tossed a small blade down to her, smirking as he did so. The bear emitted a thunderous roar as it began to circle the circumference of the small pit. She brought the blade to the twine still binding her hands behind her back and was able to free herself after somewhat of a struggle, moving away from the carnal animal as she did so. Fear subsided to her more natural instincts and suddenly her head became clear. She looked up to meet the eyes of the bear before her, drawing in deep breaths and settling into a skin that was known to her; the skin of the "she-beast".

My old friend, how good it is to have you with me again, she thought to herself. She would not allow these men to diminish her power or to take it from her. Every woman is born with the rage of their mother nestled deep within their chest, the resulting anger of years of being made less than human. The sorrow of being made to sacrifice their bodies and their souls for a man's pleasure, weighed upon her shoulders. She could feel it, she always had. It seemed accustomed to every woman she had ever met, to share a deep-seeded understanding that this world was not made for us, but for us to attend to. She refused that notion, and in this moment when no other woman was there to share this fury and sorrow with her, she decided to embody it herself, for all those who didn't have a chance to fight. For all those who were made less than, or treated as only a body to be taken. They will not take this from me, she vowed to herself.

The growl that escaped the beast reverberated throughout the small pit, being felt within the chests of all the men spectating. However, fear eluded her as she looked into the animals eyes, accepting her fate with a fury. The cry that left her as she charged the creature could have caused even the most barbarous of warriors to quell in fear. Dodging the swipe of its large paws, she lunges forward with the small blade that was provided to her. If she is to die here, it will be a death of integrity knowing she was more like the beast in front of her than anything as meek as the men watching from above. They will not take my strength, she thought as the claws of the grizzly descended upon her. Her mind had been captivated by adrenaline, her muscles now following in the steps of combat that they had walked before. Although she had never faced such a formidable opponent as this beast, she knew her training would serve her well. She rolled to evade the claws of the bear, ducking beneath its giant form and bringing the blade to its underbelly as she did so. An agitated sound escaped the brute as she cut into its fur, resulting with a swipe of its large paw in her direction. However, this time she wasn't quick enough to side step the beast and its claws caught her collarbone and ripped the flesh open. A scream of agony left her and she stumbled to the outer part of the fighting pit. The bear's eyes met hers once more and she could see the bloodthirsty look reflected within them. The beast snarled and ran towards her, outstretching another paw to swipe at her again, but she managed to dodge it once more and bring the blade across the creature's arm this time. This only resulted in more fury from the beast, a deep grumble of rage came from its bared teeth.

I can do this, she thought to herself as the bear stalked her along the edge of the ring, contemplating its next move. There was a moment of stillness between them, as if they were both assessing the other and its next move. Although, she knew it wouldn't be long before another move was made, so she chose hers. With a terrifying yell she charged the beast, it rose on its hindquarters with its two front paws out to block the blow, but as she got near it, she ducked. Deceiving the beast and sliding in the mud towards its belly. The blade was firm in her hand as she drove it into the creatures heart, twisting it as deep as she could, so the hilt was half-way into its flesh. A pained cry came from the animal, and it slumped over her, still thrashing its paws at whatever it could reach. She only drove her own body deeper under the bear, trying to avoid the creatures talons as much as possible.

Cregan watched in horror as the whole ordeal played out, not knowing if his wife would survive or not. When she disappeared in the mound of fur his heart clenched at the notion that she would not emerge.

When she arose from beneath the creature, it was as if the bloodthirsty beast had become her. Drenched in deep maroon, her torn shift clung to her form as the blood created small streams down her limbs. It matted her hair and splattered her face in a nauseating way, creating an image that struck fear into the souls of all bearing witness. As she lifted her gaze, she was met with the sight of Lord Bolton descending from his perch at the edge of the pit.

“You don’t have a choice, anymore,” he spoke in a tone laced with malice and smugness, as if taking claim to her before even placing a hand on her.

“NO! Don’t you dare touch her, you cunt!” Cregan screamed, finding more strength in his limbs and beginning to fight back against those holding him still. The three men had to be assisted by two others as Cregan had broken one of his hands free and connected it to the nearest jaw he saw. Cregan was spouting profanities at Bolton’s men as he was once again pinned to the cold ground. Two of the men now holding each of his legs, two pinning both of his arms, and one having to climb on top of Cregan in order to prevent him from getting up. However, the man holding his left arm down was not paying enough attention to the positioning of his hand upon the Lord’s shoulder. Cregan lunged his head down and caught the man’s pinky between his teeth, and without a second thought he bit down, hard. The man shrieked in pain and recoiled from Cregan in seconds. His pinky still intact but bent at an angle and would sport a nasty scar at the base of it for the rest of the man’s life.

Cregan only smiled, a sickening sight as his mouth was stained crimson. With his hand now free he reaches behind him to unsheathe one of the other’s swords, and then in an instant he rolled to his right, causing the man perched atop him to fall to the ground. It took Cregan a moment to gather his mind, because before swinging the sword as he glanced over and saw how Lord Bolton was stalking towards her. He was beginning to undo his cloak and doublet, it only further spurned the fire that was burning hot in Cregan’s chest. However more men who had been spectating came to replace those of whom suffered the Wolf of the North’s wrath and had fallen to him. Although, this time they did not pin him. Instead choosing to hold him upright with a blade to his neck, grabbing him by the hair and forcing him to watch as the devil descended upon his wife. Cregan refused to show weakness, but in his chest arose panic and fear as he struggled against the men’s hold on him. Small cuts littering his neck as the blade was pushed harder against it.

“I’ll slit your fucking throat, don’t think I won’t,” the man holding the knife whispered into Cregan’s ear.

“And I’ll have your head for this,” Cregan spit back, yanking his body forward once more as the men stumbled with him. His strength a hard match for the four men it took to hold him in place. The blade dug into his skin but he didn’t care, the pain of the small knife was nothing compared to what he was being made to witness.

She let Lord Bolton approach, standing as if stone had solidified her muscles, but pulled taught as if ready to spring. The moment his hand outstretched towards her chest she reacted, swiftly ducking beneath his reach and taking hold of his exposed wrist and plunging her knife deep into the supple skin. Only releasing the blade when she felt the crunch of bone as it connected.

Lord Bolton screamed and crumpled around the fatal wound, holding his limp hand in his grasp. Towering over his quivering form she lifted a leg and connected her foot to the man’s shoulder, easily pushing him to the ground. As he continued to whimper and gasp in the depths of pain, she slowly descended upon his form. Kneeling beside him as she lowered her mouth to his ear.

“Any sane woman would choose a feral beast over the threat of a meager man and his cock, every time. Know this, Lord Bolton, fore if you leave the woman to the bear long enough she will learn its ways, and will return to rip your heart from your chest while adorning a smile," she whispered, her bloodstained lips twisting into a malicious smirk.

"Seven Hells," Lord Bolton cowered, wincing at her words.

"Yes... I do hope you experience every single one of them, and when you meet with each of the seven devils, tell them who sent you; they should learn my name," she growls, her face only inches from his, and he could see then that this unadulterated rage with which she embodied was going to be his demise. It was then that she arose to her feet, grasping the man's sword as she did so.

Too enthralled in her own fury, she was not perceptive of how the audience before her had gone quiet. The men of House Bolton becoming increasingly aware of their Lord's imminent death. With a final cry she drove Lord Bolton's own sword into his chest, spearing him through the heart. The blood curdled gasp he released was one of disbelief, not understanding that he had lost, indefinitely.

She couldn't feel her limbs as she ripped the sword from his chest and raised it above her head, but she heard her words clear as day.

"Anyone who wishes to challenge me for the Bolton line, step forward now!" She shouted, looking to each of the men that stood above her at the edge of the ring. Her husband took the opportunity to continue to physically lash out at each of the men, continuing to pull ferociously at each of his limbs at an attempt to break free. The audience of men was stunned, looking between each other with gaping mouths as they waited for someone to make the first move. It was one of the men trying to hold Cregan still that acted first, letting go of his Liege Lord and stepping back with his hands raised. The others followed suit, taking several steps away from the enraged man as they released their hold on him. Cregan let out a cry and began attacking anyone who was in reach. Landing multiple blows to the man's jaw and screaming obscenities as he did so.

She watched as her husband tore through two more Bolton men, the Wolf of the North making appearances through his blinding rampage. The sword felt heavy in her hands, and she could feel her legs begin to grow weak. The sword hit the ground before she did, exhaustion taking hold of her frame as she stared into the greying sky, rain drops began slowly falling and painting her blood-tainted skin with lines of pink and white as she let the darkness take her vision.

————————————————————————

The darkness of the night brought the greying memories hidden in the back of her mind that kept her recollection of that day, into full florescent light.

Cregan found himself waking at least once every night after that treacherous one, to the sound of her screams and pleas for mercy that weren’t warranted to anything outside of her own mind. It had become something of a routine they had subconsciously formed, a torturous nightly ritual that seemed never-ending. Cregan would wake with terror at the sound of a wail, instinctually he would turn in the direction of the sound and try to bring her into his arms as quickly as possible. Holding her tightly to his chest, brushing her sweat-matted hair from her forehead and placing soft kisses in the wake of his fingers.

“You are okay, my girl. You’re alright. We’re home in Winterfell, you’re with me, and you are safe,” he whispered into her hairline.

“You are safe,” he repeated the statement in reassurance as he began to rock her slowly. But a soft pang rang through his chest as she continued to tremble in his arms. He could hear her still weeping, burying her face in his broad shoulder and clutching him like he would disappear into thin air. He brought his hand to the back of her head and cradled her to him, continuing to mumble sweet nothings into her ear.

“I just want to stop seeing it, even in my sleep; seeing him lying there in front of me slowly approaching death from an injury I inflicted. It keeps happening over and over in my head, it’s torturing,” her voice shook as she explained the terrors that plagued her memory. All Cregan knew at this moment was pain, knowing he would not be the salve to heal this wound to her mind. But he would be here for her always, holding her as she fought a battle in her head that he couldn’t get to; it was torture for him too.

“I’m so sorry, my sunlight. Such a beautiful brain shouldn’t be polluted with this grotesque darkness. You did not deserve to have this happen to you and I am sorry I wasn’t able to protect you from it,” he said softly, emotion weighing his voice down as his sentence came to a close. He felt as she trembled in his arms, wanting nothing more than to bring her the comfort she so deserves. Yet, once again, he was left to fall on his metaphorical sword and watch as she suffered these horrors in her own mind; feeling forever helpless.

————————————————————————

The Lord of Winterfell had been summoned to a meeting in the council hall by his Bannerman of the North, regarding an urgent matter, or so it stated in the note he had received.

“Why have I been summoned here when it is I who should be summoning you?” Cregan snarled, his icy gaze spearing through all the men gathered before him as he stalked to the head of the long council table.

“Well… it is the business of your lady wife, my Lord… and the incident that has recently taken place,” Lord Cerwyn spoke timidly. Looking to the empty seat where Lord Bolton used to reside.

“What business? What opinion do you, of all people, have to offer?” Cregan snapped towards the lord.

“It is just that… we fear she is a risk to you, my Lord,” Lord Cerwyn continued to explain.

“Do you think she would harm me? Mine own lady wife? Do you truly believe she would attack me, or anyone else for that matter, unprovoked?” Cregan scoffed, taken aback by this ridiculous notion.

“It is a possibility, my Lord,” Lord Cerwyn muttered quietly in response.

“Do you know what it is like to feel helpless, Lord Cerwyn? How it feels to know you will never be able to give your wife what she needs. I have sworn to protect mine and even I could not do that. What if Lady Cerwyn had suffered the same situation as my lady wife? What would you do then? Lady Stark was assaulted, and if she hadn’t acted when she did, her and I would both be dead. You would do well to remember that,” Cregan growled at Lord Cerwyn.

“Apologies, my Lord. It is only that we worry for your safety, as I stated previously. As well as the safety of those on your court and in the public, my Lord. If the question of safety is at stake should we not consider other options?” The vassal Lord responded, surprised when the acceptance of his ideas came from the Warden of the North.

“And what would those be?” Cregan asked, his tone as sharp as the blade of his sword, poised to strike at any moment. He was completely opposed to any ideas this nuisance of a man gave him, however he would entertain any chance he could to defend his beloved. Wanting to eradicate any idea of doubt they had towards her and her sanity.

“Perhaps the Lady Stark may take some time away from Winterfell? Or rather… be solely kept within the walls of the castle? Just until she is well enough of course,” Lord Cerwyn suggested, hesitating with anxiety as he saw Cregan practically boil over in rage from across the table. The other lords grimaced, knowing the on-slot that was about to ensue.

“Are you out of your damn mind to even suggest such a thing? She is your Lady of Winterfell, and just because she has more courage than the whole lot of you, doesn’t mean she should be feared. She should be revered!” Cregan reviled the men before him as they all refused to look at their Liege Lord as he shouted about their lack of respect for his lady wife. Specifically looking at Lord Cerwyn while doing so.

“I am repulsed by you and the thought that you could ever come to me and suggest such a thing about my wife,” Cregan seethed, rounding the corner of the table to meet Lord Cerwyn at his seat. The vassal Lord stood up slowly as Cregan towered over him, staring daggers into the man’s soul.

“Get the fuck out of my castle,” Cregan sneered with venom laced into his words, looking to the rest of the men around the table.

“GET OUT! ALL OF YOU!” He roared, stepping away from the table and motioning for a guard to begin the escort of the Lord Bannerman from The Keep.

————————————————————————

When Cregan had gained his composure, he went around the Keep attending to his evening duties as he always did. As he made his way to his marital bedchamber he was struck with confusion at seeing his wife’s handmaiden standing outside the door.

“Ayla, what are you doing out here?” Cregan asked, concern painting his face, but nodding politely when she bowed slightly to him.

“I’m so sorry, m’lord. I have tried to get her to open the door, but she refuses. I did not know what to do with my Lady’s nightgown… so I’ve just been waitin’ for you to arrive, m’lord,” the young woman said as she kept her head down, taking a slight glance up at him but feeling intimidated she chose to look away once again.

“Thank you, Ayla. That was very kind of you to wait. But may I ask, how long have you been here exactly?” Cregan inquired, worried about the condition of his love and how long she’d been like this.

“I couldn’ say, m’lord. But if I had to venture a guess, possibly an hour, m’lord,” Ayla spoke again, still avoiding his now deeply concerned expression.

“I can take this on from here, Ayla. My thanks, again,” He spoke, trying to keep his tone more professional as he took the clothing from the handmaidens arms and watched as she walked out of sight before trying the door.

He called her name, announcing his presence, but heard nothing.

“My love, please come to the door, I do wish to sleep in our bed in the near future if you so permit it,” he said loudly, trying to keep a lighter tone and not give off the impression of any sort of anger. When met with silence again, Cregan feels a trickle of dread slip down his spine not knowing if she was okay or if something had happened. He began to rap on the door, his knock growing louder and more desperate, along with his pleas to her.

“My darling, I must see that you are alright, plea-,” Cregan begins to beg but is silenced by the sound of the lock coming undone from the other side of the large doors. Without hesitation he enters the room and looks around for a moment before his heart falls from his chest and onto the floor at the sight of his wife in such distress. She is already in a nightdress, but it is wrinkled and in disarray upon her frame. Clearly in a state of panic he could see she was covered in a thin veil of sweat that caused her hair to stick to her skin, as the rest stood at odd angles or was mussed in some way. When she looked up at him from her seat on the floor in front of their hearth, it was evident that fear had her in its midst and was racking through her mind, her eyes as wide as saucers. Her cheeks were wet with tears and her breath seemed to be lost on her. Cregan went to his wife in an instant and knelt on the furs next to her as he gathered her in his arms. Stroking her hair in comfort and placing soft kisses to her temple, Cregan tries to calm his wife, but in her anxiety-ridden state she was unable to resist the waves of terror washing over her. It was clear in the way she couldn’t catch her breath, and how her body would tense and relax repeatedly.

“Okay, okay. Shhh it’s okay - that’s it. Breathe, my darling, just breathe,” Cregan spoke softly into his beloveds hair, rocking her back and forth as she tried to gain control of her breathing once more.

“My darling girl, what has caused this pain?” Cregan questioned, his tone laden with concern. She had to take several more deep breaths before she was able to finally respond coherently.

“I am no longer worthy enough to uphold your family’s house values,” she whispered, not meeting his gaze as he had tried to get her to look at him.

“No, my girl. How did you ever reach that conclusion?” Cregan’s heart breaking at the thought that she believed herself not good enough for anything.

“The men on your court, they wish to see me kept away, I heard it with mine own ears. I have put a stain on your house with my actions. I hear what they whisper about in the corridors, and in your court, calling me the 'the Mad Lady Stark'. I am anything but honor or duty, I killed a man that was the lord of one of your vassal houses. I don't want to be feared, Cregan. I dislike it very much... I am starting to fear myself," she finally explained, “…they said I should be locked away,” she whispered again, her voice cracking and her chin trembling.

“They would have to slay me first before anyone else took you from me. Honor be damned if it means having you by my side, no matter what anyone may say,” Cregan responded, his palms cradling her jaw, softly pushing her head up so he could look her in the eye. The statement rolling off his tongue so easily he didn’t even realize what the implication of that sentence was; he would throw away honor and dignity for her every time.

“I seek no kind of absolution from anything other than that of what lies within your soul and the God who crafted it. In your absence, my life would be without purpose. Fore if I am not permitted to love you and keep you, my days would be spent living half a life,” he proclaimed, tears gathering on his lash line. She too was weeping, her eyes distant as if she were not seeing him in front of her.

“Do you hear me?” He asked, his gaze desperate as he searched her eyes for understanding.

“You are safe, no one will take you from me,” he concluded as she finally focused back onto him and slightly nodded her head.

“Okay,” she relented, not wanting to take his words for truth even though she knew they were, it was the distrust she had within herself that was stopping her from believing. It was hard to hold his gaze, knowing he could read the thoughts dancing through her eyes like seeing something through a clear window. She couldn’t hide from him if she tried.

He could feel the uneasiness still residing within her, so he brought her hands in his and pressed kisses to her knuckles. Slowly taking each fingertip to his soft lips and laying feather-light kisses along them as well, then moving to the inside of each of her palms to do the same. As he moved lower and pressed his lips tenderly to the inside of her wrists, he saw her resolve begin to dissipate. Her insecurity dissolving at the touch of his lips to her skin.

“These hands protect you, they know how to wield a sword better than most of my men. They comfort me when I am in need, they will hold and comfort our future children. I am so in love with these hands; do not fear what they can do, because if it wasn’t for you we would both be deep in the frozen ground by now,” Cregan explained in a soft but sincere tone, continuing to place soft kisses to her knuckles and wrists.

“Cregan…” she sniffled, a small smile coming to her lips as he continued to travel his lips further up her arm, and then slowly moving upwards he pulled her nightdress from her shoulder to reveal her collarbone. The three large scars that ran along the soft skin were close to being fully healed, as much as they could be. Cregan leaned down and placed the tenderest of kisses upon them. He cradled her waist as he pulled her into him, her thighs wrapped themselves around his middle as he stood slowly from the ground, bringing her with him. Moving to the bed, he set her down on the pelts gently, shifting her up the bed as he crawled over her, his eyes searching hers for something.

“It is never my intention to make you feel uncomfortable by my advances. But if you would permit me, may I show you how in love and committed to you I truly am?” Cregan asked in a whisper, still keeping himself propped up above her. A soft smile spread over her face, her cheeks heating up at the notion of such adoration.

“If you do not wish it then it shall not be done,” he reassured, his eyes still searching hers for any type of doubt or hesitation.

“Cregan… prove to me what I cannot prove to myself in this moment,” she responded softly. With the permission granted, he smiled as he laid a heavy kiss onto her lips. Then as he had done moments before, he pushed the sleeve of her nightdress down her shoulder to reveal her scars to him. He continued to kiss over the marred skin, trekking lightly up the slope of her neck until he reached just below the shell of her ear.

“These scars are proof of extraordinary resilience; proof of your undeniable courage, something I have always admired about your spirit,” Cregan spoke softly as he placed a kiss to her temple. “… and this… this stalwart, brilliant, stunningly cunning, and expertly charming brain of yours… you are a marvel to me… all of you,” Cregan continued to speak as he placed more kisses along her temple and under her jaw as she sighed and smiled. He began to move down further, kissing her unmarked collarbone and traveling south. However the hem of her neckline proved a worthy adversary to Cregan’s wishes to desire his wife. His hand travels from its place beside her body to slip under her nightdress and waltz up her thigh as the fabric went with it. He couldn’t help himself from running his fingers over the expanse of her thigh, leaving goosebumps in his wake. The light caresses of her husband would always make her weak. She felt his hands grip her hips and carefully move her small clothes down her legs, a shaky breath escaping her as he does so.

“These hips… these hips will cradle your womb as you carry our child, they are strong and will birth the bravest of warriors,” Cregan spoke against her skin as he exposed it to himself. Having removed the dress fully from her body his lips began to paint tapestries across the skin of her lower stomach. His hands wandered, feeling every inch of skin he could reach, whispering his praises to every piece of her he touched. The noises that emitted from her were the sweetest melody Cregan had ever heard, the soft sighs and gasps of built up anticipation.

He loved it all.

Placing both of his hands at the back of her thighs he slowly coaxed them to rise as he shifted lower and placed his head upon her inner thigh, turning to meet his lips to the supple skin. He became drunk on the whimpers that fell so gracefully upon his ears as he teased the inner most part of her thighs with hot breaths and light caresses of his fingertips. Until finally he met his lips with what he considered the gates of the only heaven that truly mattered. In his hazed state he let his tongue wander through the petals of her cunt, like sifting through the petals of a freshly picked rose. He fell more intoxicated at her scent and taste as it poured over his senses, his grip on her thighs becoming stronger as his fingertips dug in. With a gentle force he moved her legs farther apart to be fully flat on his stomach, making the perfect angle for him to -

“OH CREGAN!” She gasped and cried out as she felt his tongue part her center and delve into her like a craved man. Her fingers carded through his locks and roughly tugged at the base of them, causing a moan to escape Cregan’s throat. As he continued unraveling her from the inside out, he loosened his grip on her thighs and began running his hands along the expanse of her skin. He got lost in the feeling of how soft and warm she felt against his fingers tips. He wondered how a human could possess such a physical sense of grace, as his skin had been marred by combat and in training, it was foreign to him to feel such a thing. As one of his hands began caressing her breast, running the rough pad of his thumb over her peaked nipple he enjoyed the sounds the small motion elicited from her. Beginning to get engulfed in desire, Cregan could not resist as his hips drove themselves against the mattress as he tried to get friction on his aching cock. The motion and resulting friction caused a small whimper to escape him, his cheeks burning at such a sound coming from him, but he couldn’t help it. It was all just too damn good. Retracting from her slightly he looked up to her, and was met with her gaze in return, their eyes communicating what their lips didn't have to.

They couldn't wait anymore.

His fingers never left her as he sat up and began undoing his trousers with his other hand, holding her soft gaze the entire time. She looked like an angel splayed before him, having fallen from the heavens and landed directly in their bedchambers. Throwing the garment to the side, he slid his fingers from her and brought them to his lips with a groan.

"You are the sweetest thing in all of the Seven Kingdoms my love," Cregan whispered to her as he climbed atop her. Feeling as her own hands roamed his broad shoulders and a moan escaped her as he tucked his head into her neck and began leaving soft trails of kisses down to her collar bones.

"Are you ready, my lady," Cregan asked softly, not wanting to move forward any further without her specific consent.

"Yes, my love," She whispered into his ear, a small smile gracing her beautiful lips. Taking hold of the back of her thighs, he hoists them around his waist and lines himself up with her entrance before slowly beginning to push in. The groans and gasps shared between them left them both feeling breathless. Positioning himself on his elbows to support himself, he cradled her head in one large palm as the other twisted itself into her hair. He began to move slowly, falling into the velvety bliss that was his wife. Moans and gasps danced from her parted lips as her husband gently led her down the road of pleasure, softly touching and kissing her. She adored the softness with which he caressed her, the way he held the back of her head like it was fragile. But she hadn't felt this intimacy with him in weeks, and she needed it a little harder and faster than what he was providing currently.

"My love," she gasped, her breathing staggered as he hit a spot within her that brought her the utmost pleasure, "my darling, fuck me," she demanded through gritted teeth, and he did not need to be told a second time. Bringing himself off of her, he balanced on his outstretched arms as he moved upwards, bringing her hips with him. This new angle provided her with the intensity she was looking for. Allowing him to meet his hips with her own in a powerful way, without crushing her with his enormous form.

One of his hands was softly caressing her face, cradling her jaw in his large palm. The action so opposing of the passionate and intense motion of his hips against hers, driving forward with a force as he got lost in her ether. The bed creaked and shook with the physicality of it all. The sound of skin meeting skin accompanied that of the complaints from the wooden frame of the bed and the sounds of pleasure ricocheted off the stone walls of their chamber; it was a sinful symphony. Feeling the burning knot of pleasure beginning to slip from his control, whimpers and grunts of desperation began to fall from his lips.

“My love - my light, I need you to look at me,” Cregan begged, his voice strained and thick with desire. Her eyes had been sown shut with the pleasure he brought her and her jaw had fallen slack, so lost in Cregan and the feeling of him that was surrounding her. It was an effort to look into his eyes as his thrusts became more erratic and she felt him hit that spot with a strength that took the breath from her lungs. It was impossible for him to come undone without looking into her eyes. She was the sun, blinding in her beauty to see with a naked eye yet captivating nonetheless, and he couldn’t look away.

He saw her struggling to focus and keep her eyes from fluttering shut as strangled moans came from deep within her. She was the most stunning vision to behold with her head thrown back and her hair splayed around her like a halo. The sweat-slick skin of her neck and chest as beautiful as fresh dew shining in the sunlight in the early hours of the morn. But he had to see her, look into her eyes as they took each other over the edge. He called her name gently, pleas quietly spilling from his mouth until moments later she was able to make eye contact with him.

The groan that came from him was desperate and loud as she finally answered his prayers.

“There’s my pretty girl,” Cregan grunted, all he heard in return was the rough panting and delicate groans of his wife as she felt nothing else but him. So consumed by him and his body she felt as if she might burst. Moving one of his hands down her torso as he ventured towards the space between them, wanting so badly to hear those gorgeous moans that fall from her mouth every time he touches her there. They both hung on a precipice, each thrust threatening to push them over the edge into oblivion. As he thrust several more times, the creaking of the bed was echoing off the stone walls of their chamber, the sound joining that of her whimpers and gasps of his name. Starting to thrust with a more erratic nature and needing more leverage, he pulled his hand away from the haven between her thighs and took ahold of hers, placing it atop the headboard to join the other, having took hold of it for balance.

In this position Cregan had never looked more strikingly handsome, his head hung between his outstretched arms above her, the dark locks of his hair falling around his face. He looked as if he was sculpted from marble, a statue of his grandeur created just for her. She heard quiet whimpers begin to fall from his mouth and she knew he was holding back with everything he had, but he didn’t need to.

“Come with me, my love,” she whispered to him between pants, their breaths mingling within one another, eyes never breaking each others gaze. The most divine groan fell from his plush lips, his face contorting in pleasure and then going slack as she felt his hips driving harder. As she felt the knot of pleasure begin to unravel in her lower stomach, she cried out his name in ecstasy and arched into him. The hand that was entangled in his gripped the headboard hard as she pulled herself up into him. Dropping his other arm to the mattress, he reached around her waist and anchored himself to her. With a final broken moan he felt himself cum as his hips met hers and he buried himself as deep as he could within her. They were still for a moment as they both began to come down, but suddenly Cregan began to move again. Dragging out his strokes and angling his hips so he could hit the one spot within her that he knew would result in another orgasm for her.

It was an intense and angelic experience for them both. As she felt him move slightly, squeezing her hip and holding her to him as he continued to rock into her. Cregan could feel the flutter of her walls as her peak never seemed to fade away, he was pulling the utmost pleasure from her and she never wanted it to stop. She clung to him with her available arm, running her hand through his hair and gripping the roots.

“Fuck, darling. You feel so divine.” Cregan spoke into her ear, his tone strewn with gravel as he too began to feel his ascension into the heavens once more. He ducked his head into the valley of her neck as he placed hot, needy kisses along the column of her throat. Her response was nothing more than mumbling and moaning, the love and lust clouding her mind to anything other than what he was giving her.

“I know baby, I know,” Cregan whispered and although he too was beginning to get lost in overstimulation, one of the only things he knew in that moment was he needed to feel her release one more time.

Cregan pulled back in that moment and released his hold on her waist as he then gently led her back onto the mattress. Having also released her hand that had been intertwined in his own on the headboard, he could feel both of them now moving over his skin and her nails slowly digging trails down his back.

He groaned at the sensation and as he went to shift his weight off the headboard, a sharp CRACK could be heard echoing off the walls, and suddenly Cregan’s weight dropped onto her. He caught himself, for the most part, but the sudden change had caused their lustful trance to be interrupted.

“My love, are you alright?” Cregan immediately turned his attention to his wife who was staring up at him in shock. With Cregan still sheathed inside her she was having a hard time comprehending what had just happened as she fought to focus herself.

“Yes, yes I’m okay,” she said to him as he brought a hand up to cradle her head, his thumb traces a dip from her cheek to her temple, a gesture of reassurance.

“Did we just break the headboard?” She inquired after a brief pause between them, an amused smile forming on her face and soon after an eruption of giggles poured out of her. Cregan looked surprised at the outburst at first but soon was chuckling at the circumstances right along side her. Slowly maneuvering off of her and to her side, they continue to share loving glances and can’t help the laughing that results.

“I think you know the answer to your question,” Cregan finally responded. Pulling her into his chest, their breathing slowing as they felt the exhaustion from the day wash over each of them.

“Do you know how in love with you I am? Do you understand now? Because I will spend every waking second I have left in this world trying to prove it to you,” Cregan whispered into her hair as he comforted her with soft touches and the warm embrace of his strong arms.

"I do know," she reassured him. She hummed in contentment as she felt his large palm move down to her lower stomach, encompassing the area above her womb.

"I do hope that took, I cannot wait any longer to see you round with my child," he says softly to her, adoration in his eyes as they looked down to where his hand is resting.

"Can you promise me something, Cregan?" she asked, looking to him intently but with a meaning behind her eyes.

"Anything, my sunlight," he responded.

"If we have a daughter, I want her to never feel as though she is not a son. She deserves to live in a world where she is not seen for her body but for her soul, and one where she isn't treated differently because of the gender she was born into. She should not have to feel like she needs to be anything other than herself, and we should provide that for her," she said, Cregan propped himself up on his arms and took his wife's face into his hands.

"We will provide that for her, I promise," he said, kissing her forehead and then gently placing a kiss to her lips.

"We will do better than our forefathers, and she shall know how special she is just for being who she wants to be," he reaffirmed, a smile gracing both of their lips as the promise of a better future was solidified between them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#house of the dragon #cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #hotd cregan #house of the dragon fanfic #cregan stark x f!reader #cregan stark smut #cregan stark angst #hotd fanfiction

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d-z20 · 7 months ago

Text

The Games We Play (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: Caught between the sharp wit of Agatha and the teasing charm of Rio, you find yourself pulled into a game of desire neither woman is willing to lose. What starts as playful flirtation soon turns into a heated rivalry, each vying for your attention in ways that leave you breathless.

- OR -

Why choose between them when you can have them both fucking you? At the same time?!?!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, Top Agatha, Top Rio, Agatha is possessive, Rio wants to annoy her, fingering, strap-ons (Rio & R recv), double penetration

Words: 3.8k

A/N: Agatha All Along Week Day 2: Non-Magic AU. Got a request for more dp and ended up here, enjoy my darlings 🙃

AO3 | Master List

The city is soaked in endless rain, a moody fog hanging low over the streets as late fall chills the air. Nestled in a corner of the neighbourhood, your used bookshop café glows warmly against the gloom, a small haven for anyone who appreciates the scent of old pages and overpriced espresso. It’s there, in this cosy retreat, that two very different forces of nature pull you into their orbit.

The bell above the door chimes every evening at 7 PM sharp, signalling the arrival of Agatha Harkness, a sharp-tongued philosophy professor from the nearby college. She always orders the same thing: a dark roast, black, no sugar, because “sugar is for optimists,” as she likes to quip with a sardonic smirk.

Everything about Agatha is deliberate, from the way she speaks to the way she holds herself. She’s always clad in sleek, dark coats, her presence commanding despite her quiet demeanor. Her dark brown hair frames a face that often looks amused or unimpressed, depending on the conversation. Her utterly sunny disposition has earned her a reputation, but you’ve grown fond of the way her sharp blue eyes soften when she’s particularly pleased by your banter, even if she’d never admit it outright. Your conversations often stretch into closing hours, always layered with her dry humour but carrying an unspoken warmth she likely doesn’t give to just anyone.

Then Rio Vidal walks into your life—Agatha’s supposed lawyer “friend” and a stark contrast to the reserved professor. Rio is vibrant and magnetic, her smile practically a weapon as she leans against the café counter in her tailored grey blazer, the pop of crimson lipstick drawing your attention more than you’d care to admit. She flirts easily, her voice smooth and teasing as she pretends to be scandalised that Agatha’s “hiding you here all to herself.” Rio makes you laugh, makes you flustered, and from the second she enters, it’s clear the tension between her and Agatha is palpable. Her smile is a little too knowing, her gaze lingering a little too long. She introduces herself with a teasing lilt to her voice, her eyes flicking between you and Agatha as though she’s already noticed something brewing.

It doesn’t take long before the sparks start to fly—and neither of them bother to hide it. Agatha’s sharp words cut through the air whenever Rio flirts too brazenly, but Rio just thrives on it, firing back with sultry remarks that make your cheeks burn. It’s a game neither of them will admit to playing—a battle for your attention that leaves you flustered and dizzy every time you’re around them.

You get Agatha’s number first, scribbled onto the back of a receipt after she offhandedly mentions sending you a book recommendation. “For when you have time to expand your horizons,” she says, smirking as she slides the paper toward you. A week later, Rio casually hands you her card with a wink. “Just in case you need representation,” she purrs, her tone low enough to make your breath hitch.

Where Agatha’s bluntness cuts, Rio’s flirtation smolders. And you? You’re stuck in the middle.

—

The first real crack in the tension comes on a particularly rainy evening. Agatha is nowhere to be seen, and Rio arrives alone. She catches you during your break, claiming a seat near the back where the two of you can speak in relative privacy. Her attention is sharp yet playful as she leans in closer than necessary while accepting her coffee. Her fingers brush against yours, lingering just long enough to make you wonder if it’s intentional.

“You’re wasting time on Agatha, you know,” Rio murmurs, voice smooth and dripping with amusement. “She doesn’t know how to have fun. Me, on the other hand…” She trails off, letting the implication linger like the heat in her gaze.

You can’t help but blush, torn between intrigue and loyalty to the professor, who’s been a quiet constant. Before you can think of a reply, the bell above the door jingles. Agatha arrives, her expression turning stormy when she sees Rio still there, laughing with you.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Rio?” Agatha says, her voice cool, clipped.

“Not tonight.” Rio grins, practically daring her to lose her temper. The two women exchange barbed words like practiced fencers while you try unsuccessfully to calm them down. It ends with Agatha leaving abruptly, her coat snapping behind her as she slams the door behind her. The echo of the bell leaves you feeling confused and guilty.

—

That night, your phone buzzes with a message from Rio, her words sweet but edged with her usual brand of mischief. “You okay, sweetheart? You deserve someone who doesn’t run at the first sign of competition.” Before you can respond, a sharp knock at your door startles you.

It’s Agatha.

She stands on your doorstep, soaked to the bone, rain dripping from her dark hair and coat, but her usual sharp edges are dulled. Agatha looks at you with something softer—guilt and regret etched into her features. “I overreacted,” she admits gruffly, as though the words hurt to say. You step aside, letting her in.

You let her in, guiding her to the couch as you make tea. She’s quieter now, vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen. She stares into her mug, her voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it. “I don’t share well,” she says, her gaze fixed on her hands. “The idea of Rio pulling you away..." She trails off, shaking her head, but you can feel the weight of what she isn’t saying. Agatha, for all her bravado, is afraid of losing you.

For the first time, her walls crumble. She admits how much she enjoys your presence—that you’re a rare bright spot in her otherwise cynical world. The night stretches on in quiet comfort, and by the time Agatha leaves, you’re left with a strange warmth in your chest and even more confusion about what you feel for both women.

—

The next evening, Rio shows up unannounced at your apartment, somehow sensing that Agatha has gotten ahead. She leans in your doorway, all confidence and charm, coaxing you with teasing remarks until you let her in.

“You worry too much about her,” Rio drawls, settling onto your couch like she owns the place. Her smile is dangerous; her touches featherlight as she brushes hair from your face. “I could help you unwind, you know.”

Her voice, her smile—it’s all-consuming. The air crackles with tension, her gaze holding yours as she edges even closer. Before you can respond, there’s another knock at the door.

Of course, it’s Agatha.

The energy shifts entirely. Both women are there—again—and the room feels like it might ignite. Finally, you’ve had enough.

“Are you two done?” You snap, startling them both. “This back and forth—it’s exhausting. Either cut the games or go.”

Silence falls, heavy and electric. Agatha is the first to speak, her voice low and smooth. She steps closer, so close you can feel the warmth of her breath against your skin.

“You think we’d fight like this if we didn’t want you?” She murmurs, her blue eyes dark and unreadable.

Rio smirks, circling you like a predator, her tone sinfully sweet. “Maybe sharing isn’t bad, Agatha.”

The shift in energy is dizzying. Agatha’s mouth tilts into a smirk as she backs you toward the couch. Rio’s hand slips to your waist, her touch featherlight. Between Agatha’s steady dominance and Rio’s teasing charm, you’re completely unravelling under their combined attention.

The air in your apartment feels thick, a storm of tension swirling around you as Agatha’s dark blue eyes lock with Rio’s knowing smirk. You barely register your own breath quickening as Agatha steps forward, fingers curling possessively around your wrist.

“Enough games,” she murmurs lowly, her voice gravelly with restrained heat. Without warning, she tugs you firmly toward her, the movement decisive as you stumble against her chest. Her free hand tilts your chin up, her gaze scorching as she leans in, her breath ghosting over your lips—close, but not close enough.

“You’re coming with me,” Agatha whispers, a command dressed as a promise.

Before you can surrender, Rio is there, her hand snaking around your waist from behind, her grip firm as she pulls you back, your body colliding with hers. Her scent—something sharp and sweet—fills your senses as her lips graze the shell of your ear.

“Agatha’s always in such a rush,” Rio purrs, her voice playful, but her hands are far from idle. One settles at your hip, her thumb tracing lazy circles just above the waistband of your pants, while the other slides up your side, light and teasing as it makes your skin prickle. “Why don’t we slow down a little? I’m not done enjoying you yet.”

Agatha huffs—a warning—and moves to claim you again, this time grabbing you by the face with both hands, pulling you flush against her body. Her kiss is sudden and searing, stealing the breath from your lungs. Her lips demand everything, moulding perfectly to yours, and her hands grip your face like she’s daring Rio to interfere again.

And of course, Rio does.

“You’re so dramatic, ” Rio mutters, yanking you free with little effort. Her lips are on you the moment you’re in her arms, pressing slow, teasing kisses along your neck—each one softer and sweeter than the last, a stark contrast to Agatha’s possessive fire. Her fingers trail along the hem of your shirt, sneaking underneath to brush against bare skin, her touch featherlight.

“Tell me you don’t like this better,” Rio murmurs against your skin, her smile evident even though you can’t see it.

You don’t have time to respond—Agatha is already there, tugging Rio’s hand off you with a forceful glare. “Enough of this,” she snaps, her tone clipped but not cold. Her hands find your hips, guiding you toward your room

Rio only laughs darkly and hooks her arm around your waist once more, pulling you right back. “Not so fast, professor. I don’t remember letting you win.”

Their hands are on you—Rio’s touch teasing and playful, Agatha’s firm and commanding—as they drag you down the hall together. Your back collides with a wall, and Agatha is on you first, her hand braced above your head, her lips brushing over your jaw in slow, deliberate movements.

“You’re mine,” she murmurs against your skin, her other hand sliding up your side, fingers pressing into your ribs just enough to leave you dizzy.

“Greedy,” Rio drawls behind her, stepping in close. Agatha doesn’t get a chance to respond before Rio hooks two fingers into your belt loop, yanking you forward and breaking Agatha’s hold. Rio grins wickedly as she pulls you toward the bed—a teasing touch meant to frustrate more than satisfy.

“Don’t listen to her,” Rio whispers, her fingers grazing the sensitive skin just above your collarbone. “I’m the one who’ll take care of you properly.”

The room spins around you, your body trembling from the push and pull of their hands, their lips, and their possessive declarations. You feel like you might come undone from the weight of it—Agatha’s firm hold steadying you just as Rio’s teasing touch sends heat racing through you.

"Please,” you gasp finally, your voice cracking as they pause in their frisky fight, both sets of eyes snapping to yours. You’re panting, your body aching, your pulse roaring in your ears as you look between them—Agatha’s gaze dark and unreadable, Rio’s smile sharp with amusement.

“I—” You swallow hard, trembling beneath the weight of their attention. “I want both of you. ” Your voice drops to a desperate whisper, the words spilling out before you can second-guess them. “Please. I need both of you.”

The silence is deafening.

Rio’s smirk grows impossibly wider, her fingers trailing down your arm as she hums, her tone a mix of delight and challenge. “Hear that, Agatha? They’re asking for it.”

Agatha doesn’t smile, but something shifts in her gaze—an intensity that makes your knees weak. She steps closer, her hand finding your chin again as she tilts your face toward hers, her lips brushing against yours as she speaks.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” she murmurs darkly, her voice soft yet possessive.

“I do,” you plead, your words barely audible as your body arches instinctively toward her.

Agatha holds your gaze a beat longer, then—finally—her lips crash against yours, fierce and commanding, shoving you flat against the bed. Rio isn’t idle for long, though. She shoves Agatha off you, and her hands slide up your sides as she presses herself against you, her lips trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the side of your neck.

“You’re shaking,” Rio teases, her voice low, her fingers curling at your hips as Agatha’s kisses travel to your jawline. “We haven’t even started yet.”

The next moments are a blur of movement—your body pulled between Agatha’s dominance and Rio’s playful teasing as they undress you, their touches relentless and overwhelming. Agatha’s mouth leaves marks along your skin as she pins you in place, her voice low in your ear as she commands you to take everything she gives. Rio counters by digging her nails into your skin as she coaxes desperate sounds from you—sounds that only seem to ignite Agatha’s jealousy further.

“Stop hogging them,” Agatha snaps at Rio, though her voice trembles with her own restraint.

Rio only laughs, her hand sliding lower as she presses a kiss to your inner thigh. “I’ll stop when you stop being so damn territorial.”

Between them, you’re unravelling—your body trembling, your breath quickening, every nerve ending lit on fire from their combined attention. Agatha’s possessiveness grounds you even as Rio’s teasing ignites you, the two forces of nature working in tandem to overwhelm you completely.

Agatha's hands are firm on your hips, her weight pressing you into the bed as she straddles you, her body a constant presence that steadies the rising tension inside you. Her breath is hot against your skin, lips grazing your neck as her fingers trail lower, teasing your most sensitive spots. The mix of control and raw hunger in her touch has you spiralling, your body arching up instinctively.

Above you, Rio's voice is smooth, almost amusing, as you hear her rummaging through her bedside drawer, the sound of wood creaking under her searching hands. “Look, Aggie, they have one in your favourite colour,” she teases, her words lazy but somehow more tantalising with every syllable.

Your mind is too clouded, too consumed by the pleasure of Agatha’s touches to catch the nickname. It drifts past you, a sweet echo that you can’t quite grasp as your body trembles, electric heat coursing through you.

Your breath quickens as you feel the faint rustle of Rio undressing herself, each sound heightening the fire inside you. The air grows heavier with anticipation, your senses overwhelmed by the heat of the room, the pressure of Agatha's hands, and Rio’s presence just out of view. But before you can fully process the tension building between them, the bed shifts sharply.

With a sudden shove, Agatha is pushed off of you, the force catching you off guard. A breathless gasp escapes your lips as Rio takes her place, her hands gripping your hips and pulling you toward the edge of the bed, her body leaning over yours. Without a moment’s hesitation, she snaps her hips against you, thrusting your 6-inch smooth black strap inside, the movement sharp and forceful. The sudden, intense pressure forces a moan from your lips, your back arching involuntarily as surprise and pleasure mix. Her rhythm is unforgiving, each thrust deep and demanding, making it impossible to think of anything but her—her body, her control, the way she claims you in an unrelenting wave.

Behind you, you hear the sound of Agatha undressing, the rustle of fabric replaced by the unmistakable click of a harness. A shiver runs down your spine as Agatha slips into it with practiced ease, her presence looming like a storm cloud, the tension palpable.

She moves silently behind Rio, her steps deliberate, her presence casting a heavy shadow over the both of you. With a calculated push, she presses your 10-inch purple strap into Rio’s dripping cunt from behind. Rio's pace doesn't falter as Agatha slides in and out of her, the pressure between them increasing with every movement. The sound is intoxicating, and the combined force of them has your mind spinning—a dizzying mix of pleasure and anticipation as Agatha’s hands grip tightly onto Rio’s waist, guiding her in a new, deeper rhythm.

Your body is a live wire, every nerve on edge as the relentless pace drives you closer to the brink. The pressure builds unbearably, each thrust and touch pushing you higher, your senses overwhelmed, your mind barely clinging to coherence as you teeter on the edge of climax.

After a while like this, Agatha leans forward, wrapping a slender hand around Rio’s throat, lips grazing her ear as she watches you, her voice a low, possessive growl. “I want to fuck them now,” she says, the words cutting through the air with raw desire. Her eyes never leave you, a silent command in her gaze, and you know exactly what she means. The shift in the energy between the three of you is palpable—a dark, consuming hunger that promises to pull you even further into their control.

Both Rio and Agatha pull out at the same time, leaving you breathless and aching for more. The emptiness leaves a hollow craving in your core. Agatha moves to sit on the bed, her back against the headboard, a dominant yet inviting presence. She watches you with smouldering eyes, her hands resting on her thighs as she waits.

You’re unsteady as you move to straddle her lap, your body trembling from your arousal. A whimper escapes your lips as you lower yourself onto her. The sensation of being filled by her cock again has you gasping, the ache from earlier return at the depth of her touch. Agatha’s hands settle on your hips, guiding you as you start to move, her eyes never leaving yours, filled with desire and control.

Rio moves behind you, her presence a comforting pressure against your back as she gently slips a finger between your thighs. You gasp as she presses inside you, the stretch from both her and Agatha intensifying in the most delicious way. The fullness makes you gasp, your body quivering as you adjust to the sensation.

Once you're steady, Rio adds a second finger, pushing in slowly, and you can't help but moan at the added stretch, the sensation almost too much but in the best way possible. Your breathing is erratic as you adjust to both of them, the mix of pleasure and fullness making your mind spin. Then, as if they both share the same thought, Agatha's hands grip your hips, holding you steady as Rio adjusts herself behind you.

The feeling as you sink back down on both of the straps is overwhelming—each movement sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. You feel every inch of them, every twitch of their bodies, and it’s almost too good to bear. The stretch is so intense, so deep, that your body trembles with every shift, every thrust. You feel stretched to the limit, your entire body taut with the effort of staying grounded. Agatha’s firm grip on your hips holds you steady, guiding you up and down, making you feel every inch of them, while Rio’s fingers come to circle your clit, the combination of their touches creating a perfect rhythm that has you gasping for air.

As Agatha pulls you further down, the fullness hits you again, each inch more delicious than the last. You’re teetering on the edge, your breath coming in ragged gasps, desperate and frantic as your body fights to adjust to the incredible pressure. You feel the tension build, winding tighter and tighter, until with one final, perfect movement, your body snaps. Your orgasm hits you hard and fast, waves of pleasure crashing over you, every inch of you alive with the sensation of being so full, so completely consumed.

“That's it, sweetheart,” Agatha murmurs, her voice low and steady in your ear, as her hands continue to hold you steady, guiding you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. “Let go for us.”

As the waves of pleasure ebb and fade, you collapse against her chest, your body trembling with the lingering aftereffects, your breath shaky as Rio gently pulls out, leaving a trail of your warm wetness behind. She presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, her voice a quiet tease. “You’re incredible,” she whispers, her breath hot against your skin.

Agatha’s arms wrap around your waist, lifting you off her strap, holding you close, and grounding you in the aftermath of it all. Her touch is soft, almost tender now, as she kisses your temple. “You’re perfect,” she murmurs, her voice filled with admiration and something deeper, more possessive.

You let out a soft, contented sigh, your mind still hazy but filled with a deep sense of satisfaction. In this moment, surrounded by them, everything feels right.

Agatha brushes a lock of hair from your face, her voice light but filled with something darker beneath the surface. “You know,” she says with a small smirk, “Rio and I had a feeling you’d be perfect for this... we’ve been planning it for a while now.”

Rio laughs softly, her breath warm against your skin. “Took us long enough to get you here, but I’m glad we finally did.”

You blink in surprise, your mind still foggy from your climax as the realisation sinks in. “You... planned this?” The words come out more as a breath than a question, your chest tightening as a mix of surprise and something else—exhilaration, maybe—washes over you.

Agatha chuckles, a playful gleam in her eyes as she tightens her hold on you. “We couldn’t resist,” she admits softly. “We both knew you were something special.”

Your heart races again, this time for an entirely different reason, and you can’t help but smile, a mix of disbelief and wonder settling over you. "I... had no idea," you murmur, a soft laugh escaping as the depth of their plans finally hits you.

-----

listen if I can write in a way where it was Agatha all along, I'm going to do it, she's such a little schemer

-----

let me know if you folks want to read my Band AU :P

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fayes-fics · 11 months ago

Text

Wisteria

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Even wallflowers bloom, and Benedict sees it.

Warnings: none... this is just fluff

Word Count: 0.7k

Authors Note: Request fill for Anon HERE, who wanted Benedict and a young, wallflower reader. Just a short little scene. Unbetaed. I hope you enjoy this. <3

You sigh as you once again find yourself wishing to be swallowed up by the wall behind you. And this is only your third-ever ball. The room is somehow both too hot and too cold all at once—a clamminess that has the applique of your dress itching and uncomfortable. You idly wonder if you took a wallpaper pattern to Ms Delacroix if she might be able to fashion a dress so similar you would not be visible at all…

It's not that you hate the idea of finding a match. Having a husband is most appealing. What is not so is the Ton’s preferred method—the awful parade and, indeed, inspection that comes with being a young lady taking part in the Season. You would much prefer to find someone with whom you could bond, away from all of this pageantry and artifice.

“Miss y/l/n…”

The rumbed, polite greeting instantly has butterflies twitching behind your ribs, your head swivelling with almost comedic speed as a tall gentleman pulls up next to you.

Benedict Bridgerton.

Quite the most handsome, eligible bachelor there is. Especially now that his brother, the Viscount, is so happily matched.

“Oh… Mr Bridgerton…!” You cringe at the squeak in your voice as you return his greeting, certain your cheeks are heating. “H-how is your evening?” Your query is polite, but you steadfastly keep your eyes averted, instead observing the swirl of dresses brushing the polished wood in front of you, the dancefloor filled with your fellow debutantes.

“It is better now…”

“How so?” You can't help your bubble of curiosity, looking up at him. Well, a spot on his lapel—you feel unable to look properly upon him, knowing it may make you far too tongue-tied.

“Present company,” he breezes, taking a sip of his champagne.

You turn left and right but quickly realise you are the only person nearby. Perhaps unsurprising given this spot is not optimal for anyone seeking attention, tucked as you are between a fireplace and a drinks table.

“Yes, you, Miss y/l/n,” he chuckles, his brow knitting bemusedly at your reaction.

Your cheeks are definitely aflame now. Why he would seek out your company, you have no idea. Yes, he has been a friend to your older brother for many years now, but you honestly did not believe he held you in any regard.

“After all,” he continues, “how could I not enjoy the company of a y/l/n?”

“But… I am so very different to my brother,” you frown slightly, thinking of how effortlessly your brother moves through the echelons of society, so at ease in any room, in any crowd. Not one to cling to a wall in any circumstance.

Benedict laughs, his face crinkling most attractively as he does so. “Indeed you are. But that is a good thing,” he remarks, “for I do not wish to court him.”

At first you are sure you misheard, but as you finally meet his gaze, you feel a burst of something warm and soft in your chest. His mein is warm and hope-filled but burning with a quiet intensity that steals your breath.

“Me?” you sound almost stupified. “But… I am a wallflower…” you blurt, wincing as you realise you have spoken aloud the word your parents have gently chastised you for being.

“Have you not spied the walls of Bridgerton House?” His tone is light and cheerful, a hint of amiable tease there that is so very him, a beguiling twinkle in those hazy eyes.

“Yes, of course….” you hesitate, not following his seeming change in topic, but unable to look away.

“Then surely you have seen how resplendent they are with wisteria?” He pauses as you nod, your attention wholly absorbed in him now, something so magnetic pulling you inexorably into him, almost alchemy. “Sometimes the most enchanting of flowers spend their lives clinging to a wall. Even when they finally blossom… And yet, their location does not diminish their beauty. Or their ability to attract admirers.” A crooked grin tugs charmingly at the corner of his mouth as he leans in a fraction closer. “So yes, you may indeed be a wallflower, Miss y/l/n, but you should know, I happen to think wisteria quite the most wonderful flower of all….”

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sevikaslatinawife · 8 days ago

Text

Tsaheylu

Part 2

tsaheylu — the bond Alpha!Sevika x Omega!F!Reader

index | part 1

⛧ Warnings: slick sharing, dacryphilia, spitting/drooling, light degradation, light puppy!reader, female alpha anatomy (g!p/enlarged clit), knotting, nipple play, daddy kink, mention of blood play, pussy slap, slight overstimulation, cum inflation ⛧ Word Count: 2,914 words

You whine as she pulls her fingers free from your cunt and she sucks them clean before shifting up from your thighs and forward. You knew what she wanted, so you didn’t hesitate to pull her panties from your teeth, drop them somewhere beside you, open your mouth and stick your tongue out.

Sevika purrs as her metal fingers cup and squeeze the back of your neck. Her right hand is pressed on the mattress to keep herself hovering over you. She doesn’t shy away from your eyes as she parts her lips and spits your slick into your own tongue. You whine as she leans down to press her tongue against yours, shaking her head just to see your tongue drip saliva that smears down your chest.

“Can’t stop yourself, huh?” She slots her mouth against yours, tongue swirling to taste your slick that has coated both of your mouths. “You know what you’re meant to do, baby,” She grabs your chin with her right hand, mechanical hand slipping to the mattress to keep herself above you, tilting your head back to slow the trickle of saliva from your lolled tongue. “Swallow, my pathetic girl.”

You pull your tongue back into your mouth without another second wasted, swallowing the thick flavor of your own arousal and cum. Sevika thumbs your wet bottom lip, eyes dark as she watches you part your lips for her thumb to slip between the front of your teeth. She presses down on your incisors, and you let your lips part and jaw hang fully.

“ ‘lease,” You slur against the press of her thumb. The tip of your tongue pressing against the digit, almost enticing it to keep going and fill your mouth with something.

“Need somethin’?” She coos, using the grip on your mouth to tilt your face to the side so she can kiss the length of your neck.

Her nose brushes the warmth of it, inhaling the thickness of your pheromones. The honing smell they provided for alphas, for all alphas.

The thought made her growl low in her throat as she kissed the curve of your neck, feeling your already-racing pulse beneath the skin. The noise makes you shiver and you lick your lips when she lets go of your mouth. When her right hand cups the opposite side of your neck and you lean into the touch like a magnet.

“All fuckin’ mine,” She groans as she sucks a mark into the spot she noses. Her tongue and teeth working to make it dark, to make it ache and your thighs squeeze her hips at the feeling.

“Yours, ‘Vika, please,” You whine, wanting her to continue, to not stop. Your body felt feverish still, needing to come again and again. Or at least cum enough to clear your head for a few hours before the heat overwhelmed you again and your mind became as muddy as it felt right now.

“I know, puppy, I know,” She chuckles, hands sliding down your sides, pushing your hips down against the mattress as your thighs open enough for her to sit back on her haunches, your legs draped over her thighs. The nickname makes you whimper and for a shiver to run down your spine.

Your eyes meet hers as she blindly undoes her button and zipper, reaching into her own pants to pull out her growing erection. That’s when your eyes drop and you groan at the sight of her thumb teasing the wetness of her dribbling head.

“Nothin’ but my pretty toy, aren't you, puppy?” She laughs at your reaction to the nickname, shifting forward, groaning as she teases the wet head of her cock against your folds.

You whine and nod, raising your hips and offering yourself to her with ease. “Your toy, all yours.”

Sevika growls, her prosthetic whirring low as she digs the talons of her metal fingers into the supple flesh of your waist. She leans forward and slides into you with a satisfied moan, feeling the heat of your cunt almost scorch the flesh of her cock.

“Hm-mm,” Your hum was dripping with satisfaction, eyelashes fluttering as you bit your lip. The slight stretch of her cock, the brush of the soft swell of the base of it against your wetness – her knot still not fully shown.

“Nothin’ like you, huh, baby?” She stares like it's the first time. Drinks in the way her cock is being slickened with your arousal and cum when she pulls back out of you, only the tip of her dick inside of you. “Just made f’this dick.”

“Yes, jus’ f’you,” Your speech is already slurred as Sevika rocks her hips forward and you moan at the slide of her dick. Your hands come up to settle on her shoulders, to squeeze the tightening muscle as she slowly fucks in and of you.

“Go ahead,” She grunts at the way your thumbs brush her collarbones, how hot your skin is against her own.

Your fingers slide down her chest to undo the buttons of her vest, freeing her breasts as she discards the vest from her back in quick motions. It drops to the floor and your eyes immediately lock onto the softness of them, their sway as she thrusts into you. Everything makes you groan.

“Like what you see?” She pants, fingers wrapping around your hips to give you a hard thrust. You cry out and buck, hands finding purchase on her forearms, digging your fingers in metal and skin alike.

“S-So p-pretty,” You moan as she continues to thrust into you.

Sevika feels the heat of her face at your words and she growls at the reaction her body has to you. She shakes her head to clear it of the thought of your blood on her tongue, canines aching to sink into your neck to mark you properly.

To finally give in to her desire, her nature, to have you.

However, she couldn’t, not yet. You were still too out of it.

“Daddy…p-pretty,” You groan as your fingers slide up her forearms, nestled into the back of her elbows, still gripping her tightly.

The grip she has on your hips raises them slightly from the bed, angling her cock to press harder into you. For your back to curve softly, for your breasts to jolt with each thrust you’re given. It blankets you, begins to satiate the need that had been quietly building up inside of you since this torturous day began.

“Not as pretty as you, baby,” She groans as she thrusts, feeling the slickness of her cunt against the inside of her boxers. She’s not surprised if the patch was evident through her jeans and she doesn’t want to pull out of your cunt and discard the rest of her clothing. “Pretty tits, too, fuck,” She grunts through gritted teeth, pulling you all the way down on her dick, flush against her. It makes you squeak in surprise as the head of her cock settles roughly against your twitching cervix; your hands cup the back of her head when she bows over you and her mouth finds your chest.

You whine as she flattens her tongue against your hard nipple, teasing the sensitive skin of it. She hums against you, nose pressing into the softness of your breast while she sucks your nipple into her mouth. Your pussy clenches once around her cock and she grunts in turn, eyebrows knitted together in simmering need for you.

Her prosthetic was chattering, puffing out a long string of vapor as her claws dug into your hip harder. You hiss softly as her clawed thumb presses harder, scratches at your skin and makes you shiver. Your hands drop from the back of her head to press into the mattress, twist your fingers in the sheets and offer your chest to her mouth more, groaning eagerly.

Sevika’s tongue flattens against your breast, curling against your skin, practically cupping it with her tongue. She groans, drool sliding down your breast, down your side. Your pussy gives another eager clench around Sevika’s cock as the line of drool slides up, towards your shoulder blades due to the curve of your back off the bed by her hands.

“ ‘vika,” You breathe and she huffs against your skin. “Please, move, please, I —”

“Stupid little pussy is quivering around my dick,” She chuckles, leaving a burning kiss on your sternum. “Beg for it,” she grunts as she licks your neglected nipple, eyes locked with your own as she squeezes your sides again. “Beg daddy to fuck you like you need so badly.”

She’s doing it on purpose, of course she is, you knew this about her too well. Looking at you with those blown-out grays, her mouth on you and her hips giving your insides — no, your cervix — a slow, teasing grind. She knows you can’t articulate right now, much less while being impaled on her cock and her mouth toying with your sensitive breasts.

“Please,” is the choked reply you begin with as she nips at the hardened bud in her mouth, rolling it between her teeth. “God, please, ‘vika! Please, I-I need you to fuck me,” Your face burns at your own words, squeezing her hips with your thighs to add to your plea. “Daddy, please, it hurts.”

“Aw, it hurts?” She coos after pulling back from your nipple, kissing the swell of your breast and nosing the heat of your skin there. “Is my puppy’s cunt droolin’ for daddy’s cum?”

“Fill me, fuck, please,” You whimper, lower lip jutted and trembling as your hands come up to squeeze her biceps. Your pussy clenches around her dick and she grunts, leaning up to press a bruising kiss to your mouth.

Sevika pries your lips to part with her tongue and you eagerly accept, tongue meeting hers in turn. The kiss was aimless and sloppy, more need and desire than anything else, but it had you burning all the same. It had slicken you further around her dick, dribbling stray drops of slick down your pussy and ass.

“Let’s see —” Sevika nips at your bottom lip with a grunt, pulling her hips back and slamming back into you. Her cock throbbed inside of you, hot and hard as she stroked you deliberately slow. Dragging her hips back before slamming back into you without a care.

It made you groan softly and wrap your arms around her neck, to pull her closer as she sucks on a spot on your jaw. Every drag of her cock buried into your cunt has your walls fluttering eagerly and needily around her. It was driving her crazy, growling against your skin, baring her teeth as she huffs to try and calm herself.

But how could she?

The heat, the wetness, the smell of you beneath her was hindering her mind. Her alpha mindset was beginning to cloud her senses, taking over slowly. With each drag of her cock inside your pussy, she lost a little bit of power against the wolf threatening to spill.

Spill inside of you, knot you to her and sink her teeth into your mating mark and lick the blood that might spill from it.

“Faster,” you croak, wrapping your legs around her waist, pulling her deeper inside of you and feeling her moan against your neck where she is kissing now. “Daddy, p—”

“Please,” She mocks, chuckling with her lips brushing your pulse. “Please deeper —” A single thrust that has you crying out. “Faster —” She pushes herself on her hands, gripping the bed sheets as she pistons her hips into you. It makes you choke on your own spit in surprise, hands dropping from around her to scramble on the sheets, to grip onto them until your knuckles are blanketed in white. “Then take it, you little slut,” Sevika growls, baring her teeth down at you, eyes raking the bounce of your breasts and body with each thrust she gives you.

Her hips drive into your own with purpose and you wouldn’t be surprised if the skin of your thighs would blossom with bruises or at the very least be sore. Your insides feel full and strained with each thrust, a shiver of pain running up your body as she grinds the slit of her cock right against your cervix, hard.

“Oh fuck,” You cry out as she never stops, doesn’t falter in the pounding she is giving your insides. Each deep, hard and fast. Your fingers felt numb from twisting in the sheets, throat dry from all the panting and moaning and back arched to meet her hips perfectly.

“Yeah, baby,” She grunts, circling her hips against you just to hear that soft little gasp get caught in your throat. “Scream f’me.” She pants as she chases her orgasm inside of you, thrusting hard and deranged, like she was nothing but a mere animal following her instincts.

And you were her little prey caught in her trap.

“Mm, let everyone —” She moans, lips twitching back into a snarl. “—know you belong to me.”

“Y-yours, yes, yours,” You babble brokenly, feeling your stomach tighten alongside your cunt. “Please, daddy, need…your knot.”

“Poor princess,” Sevika has it in her to laugh. Despite her cock throbbing and engulfed in the slick heat of your walls, she still had enough of her brain left to be cocky. “Need daddy, mm, t’fill this gorgeous—” She drops her right hand down to give your clit a sharp smack just to feel your thighs seize and hear you sob. “—tightening, little cunt?”

“Yes!” You sob as a second smack is delivered to your cunt, causing it to twitch around Sevika’s dick and make her growl. “Want it, want it, want —” You arch your back and moan as the next smack to your pussy makes it tighten, crying out as she rubs your clit harshly throughout your orgasm.

The pulsing of your cunt around her is sending pleasure up her back, as she chases her orgasm inside of you. She doesn’t stop rubbing your clit even when you’re whimpering, her hips still pounding into you like it’s her only purpose in life.

“Ah, daddy–!” You squeeze her hips with your thighs, trying to ease her hand on your sensitive clit but instead get your thigh shoved open. Her metal claws dig into your thigh and press it back into the mattress, smacking your clit and making you scream.

“Atta girl, fuckin’ scream,” She growls as she shoves your other thigh open, nails digging into sensitive skin and causing you to shiver.

Sevika is huffing, eyes glued to where her dick disappears inside of you, feeling and watching her knot swell. Her stomach tightens and she moans as she cums, as she shoves her knot past the muscle of your cunt and has it swell fully.

You moan and jolt as you’re stretched fully, as her cum is pumped steadily inside of your cunt. Thick, warm and heavy against your insides. It makes you let out a soft purr as your belly pouches at the sheer quantity of her seed that is still being filled into you.

The ache of being stretched is dulled due to your heat, but the short blossoming of pain when she shifts her hips has you mewling. Your hands come up to grip her shoulders as she grunts while trying to catch her breath.

“Fuck,” Sevika licks her lips and leans down to press a kiss to your mouth. “Love breedin’ this pussy,” She rolls her hips and smirks as you whimper at the tug to your rim. “So greedy for my cum and my knot.”

“Always,” You almost whine as she guides your thighs around her waist. She helps you up, as slow as she can to settle you on her lap. You do whine when you settle completely on her cock, back of your thighs against her covered and damp own.

“Shit, m’still coming,” She leans up to suck on your collarbone, pinch the skin between her teeth and bury her nose into your damp flesh.

You could feel it too. The way her cock twitched as more cum filled you, the way your belly pressed more firmly against her as more ringlets were stuffing your cunt. You ground your hips down on her and she hisses and digs her teeth into you a little harder.

“Ngh,” A pathetic sound leaks from your lips as she sinks her teeth into you more and when her hands are squeezing your supple hips to guide them on her. “Need more,” You whisper and feel her growl against you.

“Gotta let this —” She bucks into you with a hiss just to hear you moan. “— go down so I can fucking devour this pussy again.”

You giggle and nod, waiting for her mouth to pull back from your collarbone to lean down and kiss her. She groans into your mouth, hands squeezing your ass as you lick into her mouth with need. You squeeze your cunt around her cock, feeling your skin prickle with goosebumps as she growls into your ear after pulling back from your mouth.

“Oh, you little whore,” She licks the shell of your ear and you squirm on her lap in reply, still dizzyingly needing more from her.

Her words, the heat of her breath on your ear makes you throb despite being stuffed and impaled on her, “Gonna split you open on this dick, just fuckin’ wait.”

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boonoonoonus · 17 days ago

Text

A Lesson to be Learned Pt 2

Smoke returns to Annie and finds out that he's not the only person who's been having nookie in the 7 years that passed. But of course, for him it doesn't count, but for Annie? It's a PROBLEM.

A/N: This is based on a prompt someone posted of Smoke finding Annie with someone else and losing his mind. If you happen to know who made that prompt, please tag them so I can say thank you. Also ENJOY! Shout out to my co-writer who RP'ed Annie.

Warnings: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, dual narratives with Annie's side and Smoke's, Object penetration, An@l

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Annie inhales and exhales slowly, trying to find her words, tonguing them from behind her teeth. “How many women did you lay with while you were gone?” She didn’t believe for a second that a man as gorgeous and as magnetic as he hadn't taken lovers in the years apart. When he got gone, he was supposed to stay gone, for good. Most men left and never came back. How was she supposed to know he would? Was she supposed to wait for him?

She already knew the answer, as unfair as it was.

“You come here, not even asking, demanding I take you back, in my house, in my bed and in my body. As if everything is ok. How’d you think I’ve been Elijah?”

How many men had inquired, asked, and begged for her time? How long was she supposed to live like a widow? The unfortunate man she slept with had been one of the more useful but persistent ones, but he wasn't a love for her. The help he’d provided her and the community she looked after wasn’t small. But Elijah wouldn’t care about any of that.

All he saw was an infringement on his property.

It's not anger.

It's a seething rage that can't be tempered by her reasonable words or questions. He's hers, as much as she is his, but his dick wasn't the equivalent to her puss, not the same puss that had carried his seed and nurtured their daughter.

She was supposed to be his from the moment he married her; it didn't matter how long he was away, she belonged at his side, with him. Not bent over taking another man's seed.

"Motherfucking Beau-Dallas? That nigga you gave my puss to? Annie? Girl, if you wanted another nigga you coulda fucked Stack."

He found he meant that shit. If she needed reprieve, it should have been Stack. Though he knew it wouldn't have worked logistically, it felt right. Well, more right than this. This shit hurt his heart something fierce.

Annie doesn’t dignify the words coming out of her man’s mouth with a reply. Together, they both face the awkward, painful silence that follows. She eyed the man who had taken her virginity up and down, her hands finding their place at her hips.

“What do you want, Elijah? What are you expecting from me?” She wants him to spell it out. What would satisfy the evil spirit in him, and what would pacify both their woes for the moment?

Before, she’d thought (naive, hopeful) lying down with him would be enough. But no, how could he not notice? Fool her for bothering to hope.

Smoke looks into her eyes and doesn't say a word. He has no words left inside of him, just anger. He places his pipe at her side and squeezes her neck one more time in warning. 'Stay your ass here' he says with his eyes and she nods.

Nothing has changed in her shop, or in their house, so he knows exactly where to pull her wash basin and ambles to the stand pipe. As it shudders to life, he finds himself clenching his fist once, then twice, repeating the motion over and over again. A nervous habit he developed when they couldn't find tobacco in the trenches and rations hadn't come in yet. Something to ground him when there was nothing else.

The water spurts to life, and he fills the basin, his hands getting wet in the process. When he returns to the shop, he closes the back door behind him with a bang and sets the basin on the counter.

“Wash that nigga’s shit out’cha”

Annie stares from the basin, then back at Elijah. With a resigned look, she decides to do as he asks, moving towards the basin. In her mind, she would take it, go somewhere else to rinse and come back. That is not, however, what her man has in mind.

Annie takes the basin in hand and raises her skirt, hitching it on her hip, but he doesn't want that. Her main shop door is wide open and she's in full view of the empty street, but even if she wasn't, Smoke wouldn't, couldn't, find it in him to care. Instead, he presses down on her shoulders, forcing her into a squat. Then he kicks her legs wider and she gasps as her hips creek to life and her pussy comes into full view. He spies the dried seed along her thigh, pittance compared to what he always filled her with, but it also doesn't detract from the holy place between her legs.

Kneeling at her side, Annie watches as he picks up the mug, with the broken handles and calmly fills it with water before pressing it into her hands. With shaking hands, Annie spread her second lips with two fingers, a sight she knows Elijah delights in with his widening eyes and glance down.

She pours the cold water between her spread legs, choking down the cry of the cold touching her skin.

“Inside too,” Elijah’s voice is firm, and she finds herself nodding and tilting her pelvis and trying to clean herself from the seed dried in her hair and crevices.

“At least you kept my bush intact, though you givin’ away my puss like it's field rations.” The commentary, slick as usual, stings. Not for the first time, she realises he wouldn’t be forgetting this anytime soon. And that odd comment on Stack aside, she would just have to press through it.

“It’s all for you. You gon’ keep fussing?”

Her position is awkward, and the focused, heavy attention leaves her feeling self-conscious. The aim here was to clean herself, but her man seemed to be dallying a lot on a sight that obviously pissed him off.

She was too nonchalant for a woman who had been caught cheating, breaking her wedding vows and giving away her hoodoo puss to the unworthy and uninitiated. Did she not understand the gravity of her actions? Did she not care?

"Clearly it ain't when you leaking another man's seed" his words had venom, and he could see the pain register in her face, but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

He glanced around and stifled a grin when his eyes landed on exactly what he needed. Picking up her oil funnel, he threw it into the air and caught it again.

Stooping at her side, he allowed himself to grin as she met his eye with trepidation. “I want my shit clean Annie” he grunted and rammed the end of the funnel deep inside her, pulling a yelp from her lips. He was glad, shit deserved to pain her the same way it pained him something fierce.

On some level, Smoke knew he was being irrational. He’d been gone seven years, and in that time frame he and Stack had fucked plenty of women, some alone, some together.

"Use that and wash my puss out clean,"

Oh. So that’s how it was gonna be.

The next few moments take on an almost ritualistic quality. Annie stares up at Elijah Moore and feels … indifferent. She knew who he was when they’d jumped that broom together, and she knew who he was now as he requested vindictively for her to purge herself.

The pain and discomfort were secondary to the humiliation of the moment. All of which were brought on by her own sloppy actions. She knew she should have rolled some dice and thrown some bones, but she had been needy, and it had been seven days without relief. ‘This is where lust gets you,’ she thinks and then has to let go. Her pussy throbs once more but this time in distress as she works to “clear” the liquid from inside.

Annie's too calm, too collected. So Smoke shoves it deeper, harsher into her and tips water into the funnel. She cries out, "Elijah, my puss. That hurts!" and he can't feel anything but smug satisfaction. He's cruel, but it doesn't matter. The wind blows through the open door, and she shivers as she tries to wash out the seed.

It's probably long gone. Smoke didn't see too much when she bent over, and Beau-Dallas wasn't known as a particularly fertile man. Then again, he couldn't speak. Smoke didn't have any living children either. Although he had a lot more dead ones than Beau-Dallas, some American, many, many international ones, but none that he claimed as his baby girl. But, even then, his promise had always been to seed Annie's pussy only and as such he wouldn't let another woman bear his child. Pity she hadn't kept her side of the bargain and ensured no one had his pussy when he'd made sure that no woman on American land took his seed without taking tea with it too to ensure her soil was fallow.

With his free hand, he pinches her long nipple tightly and wrings it to the side. "You gon' make it up to me? How Mrs. Moore?"

She’d said nary a word about ‘making it up to him.’ Factually, it should be the other way around. He’d left her, not the other way around, but logic has no place here.

Consciously, she knows to bow her head. “Anything you want, Papa.” She's starting to get some ideas. Granted, half of it was things that would make her squirt, but the other half was pure punishment. She’s only been figged once, but if it had to happen again—and it soothed her man’s ire some then she could bear it again.

But that was a last resort. “You know it’s yours.” This part is said through the ever increasing discomfort as she struggles to flush the last of it out. “I’m at your mercy, big man… so whatever you like. Spank it, hurt it, break it. Ain’t that what's on your mind right now?”

Elijah was obviously hurting. And making it her job to fix.

It was the 'Papa' that did it for him. Dropping the funnel in the basin, Smoke sank three thick fingers into Annie and growled when she cried out. He stretched his fingers and smirked, clearly Beau-Dallas didn't pack anything worth shit in his pants because Annie was tight, a lil loose and wet at the entrance, but past that first inch, she was tight, tight, tight. Licking up her neck, he pulled them both to their feet and roughly bent Annie forward over the counter so she could watch the door

She was shaking something fierce but Smoke was more than happy, hoping that someone would pass by them and see her slutted out, see how he kept his wife ready and willing beneath him.

He pulled up her dress, showing miles of beautiful brown skin, stretch marks and rippling ass. He kicked her legs apart and slapped her ass so hard it jiggled and screamed. She'd never like being handled roughly, shied away from a good spanking, but she'd have no choice now.

He rained slaps against her bare ass and pussy, the sounds loud in the air and her cries mixing with the claps. Annie's ass was pulsing with blood and her pussy lips engorged and wetting his fingers each time he slapped the plump lips.

Punishment it was.

Annie doesn’t try to stifle anything, sounds forced out of her, and Elijah spanks her raw. He uses enough force to leave a mark, but not too much more than that. She knows she should feel grateful; her husband always knew his limits, unlike many other men. But she’s also feeling hard done by and antsy about it all.

How many licks till he felt satisfied, how much anguish could he possibly wring out of her?

“Papa—‘m sorry.” She finally breaks down to apologise. Pride was thrown clean off, and a future of scrutiny lay before her. “—‘m sorry. Papa, it’s yours ‘m sorry. I won’t do it again.” She seeks out all the contriteness she can muster, now mired with fear and more upset. Why’d he have to be so rough? He knew she hated it when he was rough.

Lifting his hand from beating her booty to a blooming red, Smoke looked over his handiwork. Her purpling ass cheeks, dripping wet cooze and winking rosebud. It was that sight that made him groan. Quickly and efficiently, he brought down his trousers and underwear, placing his guns on either side of Annie's head on the counter with a thud. With a hand he pulled one of her ass cheeks to the side, groaning at the sound of her wet puss separating. He leaned in close and ran his tongue over her booty hole before spitting on it and with his other hand lining up his dick. Anticipating what he was about to do, his Annie sobbed against the counter, saying, "No, Papa. You too big, an nothin’ been in there since you left."

Smoke helped his tip onto her winking rosebud, he smeared his precum over it, getting it a little wet - that’s all the prep she’d get from him - and started to push.

"Good."

Annie realises much too late where she went wrong. Held tight and too firm, she understands she should have started crying and carrying on immediately. From the moment she saw her man, even. She shouldn’t have played it cool. Shouldn’t have gotten Elijah all worked up to the point that he was now so god damned intent on brutalizing her poor hole.

Through tears and cries and moans she tries and fails to let him in, too tight and not nearly enough preparation for the monster between his legs masquerading as a pecker. But just like her bad decisions from before it was just too late.

With one hand on her ass, slapping her shit, Smoke reached over his hand and pinched her long nipple, as he rode her ass. Annie sobbed into the counter, eyes leaking water and Smoke felt some of his anger abate slightly - only slightly. He eased himself into her hole, all too many inches to count, up in her guts. He planted his feet firmly on the wood floor and thrust into her so hard her head hit the table as he rearranged her guts.

Annie sobs, and the stretch alone almost makes her faint. Somehow, she doesn’t maintain consciousness as he forces his way inside. She can’t feel much more past her pain and discomfort, that which goes up by several notches when he pulls back to thrust back in.

The movement makes her scream, and she fights not to bite her tongue through her moans of complaint and apology. His name, intermingled with endearments and other pleas, fell from her lips like rain. Together, they participate in some twisted, synchronous version of unholy communion. He seeking appeasement, she seeking grace.

It's tight and rough, and a part of Smoke regrets going in dry, so much so that he reaches for the ointment she keeps on the counter and dips two fingers in the jar. When he pulls out so only the tip remains inside, he slathers his length and then flexes his cheeks and sinks back into her, smoother, but no less painful for her. That was better. With his hand on her breast, he pulled her onto his chest as he arched back himself and fucked her deep.

Some of her crying recedes when he adds some lubricant, but she can’t quite pull it all together; it’s just too much. This man was always too much. Through tears, she asks, “This what you’ve been missing?”

She can’t force the words out like ‘you satisfied?’ or ‘when will it be enough?’ but that’s what she means. Being held by him carries its own immense pressure and oppression; it means the entire time since he came in, since he held her down and forced his way inside her, she hadn’t once thought, not seriously, about fighting back. It just didn’t make sense. To fight him would be to drag things on, to act on the anger that coated her love and longing for him. She didn't want to drag this on any further. She wanted him satisfied, pacified. She wanted her gentleman back, and to get him, she had to get through this first.

Each slow thrust—now with less strain and drag on her walls—pulls something in her. Launching her racing heart back from the absolute, painful despair from before and into something more queer. With her face, ass, and hole so hot and under pressure it started to walk the thin cruel line of being almost but not quite … enough. Almost pleasurable but not enough, almost good but not enough.

She knew what would make it enough, though. But had no confidence to ask. It takes her asking him that question to draw him back into himself, to realise who is beneath him, outside of the cloud of anger all around him. Leaning over her, resting his weight on her back, Smoke wraps his arms around Annie's body and his fingers trail across her body, leaving fire in his wake. Reaching between her thick thighs, he found her nub and began rolling his finger over her button, bringing moans up from deep in her chest as he dug out her back passage.

"This what I been missing baby, you up under me. Now slip me some sweetness Ma," he commands and she shifts her head to the side and purses her lips.

Smoke doesn't hesitate, angling his head so that they could lip lock, tongues battling for dominance as his sweat dripped down onto her face. Annie can feel the moment, Smoke comes back to himself and waits anxiously for the relief it would bring. Her man—this man would lose his entire head when he was angry. And there was no going around it. Not till he cooled, not till he was satisfied. When she kisses him, she bites him too. Not taken by his words or his actions. He’d already punished her, broke her, split her open till she screamed. What came after that was compensation.

Still, she grabs a firm hold of the pleasure, soft and hesitant, unfurling within her. He man could be oh so good, when he wanted to be.

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AN: The rest of this chapter is corrupted .... I'm PISSED but we will have a part 3, possibly 4, hope you enjoyed and apologies for it being short KMT.

#annie x smoke #smoke x annie #sinners #sinners 2025 #smut #fanfiction #A lesson to be learned

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magnagaruzenmon · 5 months ago

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Bunny Breeding

A little short piece inspired by my friend.

Tags: bunny hybrid male reader x bunny hybrid Tsuki and lioness hybrid Chowon

Tsuki arrived at your house for game night. You hadn’t seen her in weeks—not since she started working in the so-called “dungeon.” When she walked into your home, the air shifted. Gone was her usual cute and ditzy demeanor, replaced by an aura of sultry confidence. She moved like a predator who knew exactly how to corner her prey. When her eyes met yours, you felt something stir deep within—a primal instinct you didn’t even know existed. Your pulse quickened, and a wave of dizziness washed over you.

Tsuki’s eyes flicked over you, sharp and calculating, before softening with an apology. “I’m so sorry, bestie. I shouldn’t have come,” she murmured, her voice low and almost purring. Despite the words, her lips curved into a teasing smile as if daring you to protest.

You closed the distance between the two of you, your heart racing. “But we haven’t hung out in forever! Ever since you started working in that dungeon, it’s like you disappeared. I’ve missed you,” you said, the words spilling out faster than you intended. But with every step closer to her, the stirring inside you grew wilder, hotter—like something clawing to get out. Your body flushed, heat spreading from your chest to the tips of your ears, and your breath hitched.

Tsuki tilted her head, her golden-brown eyes glinting in the dim light. “You shouldn’t have missed me so much,” she said, her tone lilting, playful—and dangerous. Her gaze trailed over you, lingering just a beat too long. “It’s already starting, and if I stay... I might ruin you.”

Her words sent a jolt through you, equal parts fear and something intoxicating you couldn’t name. “What’s going on?” you asked, voice shaky but desperate to understand.

She sighed, but how her lips parted and her eyes lingered on yours made the moment feel anything but casual. “Every hybrid has... a presence inside. Something primal. It’s part of who we are, buried under our human side and locked away by sheer will. But certain things can crack that lock open.” She stepped closer, her fingers brushing against yours as if testing your reaction. Her touch left a trail of heat, and the faintest smile tugged at her lips. “When the lock breaks, we change. I’ve already changed... and now, being near me unlocks yours.”

Your thoughts raced, overwhelmed by her words, her presence, the sheer magnetism rolling off her in waves. “Is that... bad?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

Tsuki’s grin deepened as she took another step closer, her hand trailing up to brush a strand of hair from your face. Her touch lingered just long enough to make your knees feel weak. “That depends,” she said, her voice honeyed and rich with mischief. Her eyes gleamed as her lips curled into a devilish smirk. “How close do you feel to your bunny?”

She leaned in, her breath brushing against your ear. “Because mine’s very close to the surface. And she’s dying to play.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, every nerve in your body suddenly alive. Tsuki pulled back just enough to lock eyes with you, her lips inches from yours, daring you to respond. Your mind broke as you felt your instincts overwhelm your mind. You brought Tsuki in for a deep desperate and messy kiss. Her tongue danced with yours for a bit causing you to thrust into her involuntarily. Tsuki gasps before wrapping her hands around your face. She smiles and then says,

“Do you feel the rush? Every single part of you dialed into 11. The need to breed endlessly?” Tsuki says before your eyes roll back. You feel something inside you hiss as your eyes come back into focus. Tsuki’s sultry smile greets you as you begin to strip.

Taking the hint she follows suit taking off her white sweater and revealing her lithe form. You salivate as you take your cock out. You’re unbelievably hard for her and you barely stop long enough to get a couple of strokes in before Tsuki as she stares at your cock hungrily. You two take a moment as the lust ferments between the two of you until you mount Tsuki.

“Such a big bunny!” She gasps as she feels your cock kiss her cervix. Tsuki begins to ride you and something inside you just breaks. You growl as your eyes dilate. Feeling the need to mark Tsuki you lean forward and lightly suck on her collar.

"Oh does my big bunny wanna mark me?" Tsuki said as her walls clenched your cock. You moan uncontrollably as she bounces up and down riding you until you can't take anymore and you cum inside her. You groan as your orgasm seems unending, but eventually it subsides. However, you can't stop, as your cock doesn't go soft, and your lust spikes again. Tsuki moans as her eyes level with yours. She sees your half-lidded eyes and she comes,

"Oh did I break your little bunny mind." your ears twitch as you keep thrusting into Tsuki who's surprised at your vigor.

"Oh my bunny still has energy?" she asks you groaning as you thrust into her tight walls. Tsuki moans uncontrollably as she feels your cock continue to kiss her cervix. Unable to stop you keep fucking Tsuki.

One orgasm turns 2, two orgasms turn into 4, and four orgasms turn into 8. eventually, Tsuki passes out. On your cock after the 8th orgasm for her. She moans deliriously before passing out, but you're still hard. You fucking groan in anger, but you are a respectful hybrid and so you tuck a passed-out Tsuki into your bed and let her rest for the night.

After doing so you stare at your hard cock. It hasn't gone down in three hours. You sigh as it throbs violently. You need more. you remember a story your friend told you about how lioness hybrids when in their heats, need to mate 100 times.

After railing Tsuki to unconsciousness you find yourself still hard. You need more. You start stroking yourself off to hopefully ease the ache but it doesn't. You need more. You need more.

You decided to call your lioness hybrid fwb, hoping she can ease this emptiness you feel.

Chowon sees your call surprised. answers and is surprised when she hears, “Mommy I need you.” you whimper. Chowon responded to your pleas with

“Does my bunny need his mommy?” she teases and you barely whimper out a yes. Chowon licks her lips at your neediness “I'm coming bunny,” she says.

You whimper helplessly as you wait. Your body and nerves are on fire as you try to fight your unrelenting arousal about 30 minutes later Chowon arrives. She is beset by the scent of your arousal. It's wildly different to her than normal, usually to her you smell light and faint but now it's intense as if you're going through a rut. She feels her become drenched as she opens the door. She’s surprised to see you open it naked and your cock harder and bigger than she’s used to seeing it.

“Fuck bunny what’s gotten into you?” she asks as she kisses you.

“Tsuki!” “She broke me, and I can't stop,” you say as you drag the lioness hybrid into your home. As she enters she notices your scent intensify 100-fold. As she is surrounded by your arousal, which you barely contain you kiss and mewl into her nipping at her collarbone and grinding into her. Overwhelmed Chowon stops you by slowly rubbing your ears. The sensitivity gets to you as you cum immediately. Chowon smiles hoping to calm you down but it only further breaks your mind. All you can think about is sex and no matter how hard you try to focus your body just screams at you to breed.

Chowon barely has time to take off her sex jacket before you are back on her again.

You knead her firm buoyant breasts and as you do Chowon is overtaken by your scent and goes into heat. She lowers herself down to your cock and smiles as she strokes you.

“You're so hard for me bunny. I guess I'm the only one who can satisfy you,” she teases before wrapping her bountiful breasts around your manhood. You groan as she slowly works her tits around your shaft. Up and down they go driving you crazy with pleasure, but it's not enough you need to be inside of her cunt fucking her full until she's pregnant with your litter.

So you lift Chowon into a full Nelson (much to her surprise) and you gently ram into her. Her lioness tail wraps around you as she moans grateful at being full. She's lost in the pleasure as you pound her aggressively tight cunt. You can barely take as you cum again, and again and again before your mind fully leaves you.

By the time you finally regained sense you and Chowon were covered in each other's cum. As you move from the couch Tsuki walks in and says,

“Well, how does it feel” you growl as your cock hardens again and you say,

“Fucking fantasy now bend over,”

#k pop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #tsuki billlie #billlie smut #tsuki x male reader #lightsum fanfic #chowon fanfiction #chowon smut

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kanekisfavoritegf · 1 year ago

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PERFECT LOVER: The Life of Nanami Kento the 35 Year Old Virgin

MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED

SYNOPSIS: Kento Nanami, a 35-year-old introvert with a tendency to avoid social interactions, has made a conscious decision to steer clear of romantic entanglements. However, everything changes when he meets a new colleague at his birthday party, (Satoru's Idea). From the moment they meet, he is mesmerized, finding himself increasingly unable to resist her magnetic presence. Like taking a bite of forbidden fruit, he becomes ensnared by the allure, delving into a realm of infatuation and finding himself unable to break free. As he delves deeper into this newfound connection, Nanami begins to realize that he craves more than just a fleeting experience and yearns for more than just a fleeting taste of what she embodies.

Table of Contents

WORD COUNT: 1.8K

Part 2 1/2 was added to the beginning! So if you have already read it, skip to where it says “TWO DAYS LATER.”

CHAPTER THREE:

The drive from Kento’s apartment was short enough to make you consider walking next time. If there was ever another situation in which you’d be leaving Kento’s apartment in the morning.

“And where the hell have you been?” You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound of Yuki’s voice. You turned around to meet her smug face from across the hall, smirking like she knew something you didn’t.

“Such a warm welcome from my favorite neighbor,” You quipped, unlocking your door.

“You were at Kenny’s, right?”

“Kenny? Who i– Oh! Kento. Yeah.”

Yuki followed in after you, her eyes lingering on the clothes you threw into the washer. It was only then that she realized you were wearing her university’s graphic tee. This might have been an ordinary occurrence any other day, but not when you spent the night at her old university friend and coworker’s house, especially not Nanami’s.

“You didn’t sleep with him, right?”

“No, of course not.”

“Good.” Yuki sighed.

“Good? Is he dating someone?” You felt your breath hold as you wondered aloud, only releasing it once answered.

“No, he doesn’t date.”

“Like at all?”

“Nope.”

“Is there a reason?”

“It's not my story to tell.” Yuki shook her head. “He is touchy about the subject.”

You only nodded.

“Not even casual hookups?”

“Hey! No.” You would have been offended at the harshness of Yuki’s voice if her expression of horror had not been so amusing, “He is off limits.”

“What do you mean?”

“He is the lonely virgin; one hookup with you, and you will ruin him.” It was a little surprising to hear Kento was still a virgin, but not because of his age, but his demeanour. The way he carried himself. Indeed, he must have had someone he wanted to be with that intimately; surely someone would want him so intimately, but then again, you only knew him for a few hours; who knows what he is actually like.

“You make it seem like I am some succubus.”

“You might as well be Y/N.”You only rolled your eyes at her. “Listen to me, Y/N,” Yuki’s hands cupped your face like a child needing grave warning. “You can not deflower poor Kento.”

“He isn’t a child.”

“I know, but–” Yuki lost the words on her tongue, knowing no explanation would do it justice. “Just don’t. He isn’t Satoru or Suguru. He is a decent man, and if you slept with him, hell, if you kissed him, it would lead to places I don’t think you’d want to go to.”

“You hummed a sound of agreement and went to your bedroom to change. Thoughts of Kento are still in your mind; the more Yuki speaks about him, the more you want to pull back each layer of him to see what exactly makes him the way he is.

Yuki’s words still echoed in your head as you showered “hell if you kissed him, it would lead to places I don’t think you’d want to go to.” But it was already too late. Kento Nanami was undeniably curious about you, just as much as you to him.

TWO DAYS LATER

“Hello, Mr. Nanami! If I read my email correctly, you are supposed to be showing me around today.”

This was the first time Nanami had been caught off guard. For some reason, you stood in front of him in business attire, a skirt cut just above the knee, black stockings and a white dress shirt hidden beneath a black cardigan.

He stared down at you as you stood before him, a nervous smile painted on your face as he did so. His expression was even more blank than he had given you three days ago. It almost seemed like he was angry, but the more he stared at you quietly, you couldn’t help but feel as though he may have just forgotten you. And the very idea of Nanami forgetting you made you slightly (very much so) annoyed.

Was kissing strangers after housing them in his very nice, very clean apartment a common occurrence for him? Was walking around in shirts too tight around women clearly captivated by him an everyday experience for him???

Okay, you understood it wasn’t technically a kiss to be written in the history books and that it was you who kissed him. But that didn’t take away the feeling of aggravation snaking its way up your spine.

“I’m Y/N.” You stated.

“I know.” Was all he said in return, turning to his desk and logging into the company computer, leaving you standing there awkwardly as he faced his display screen.

You peered over his shoulder, letting a few braids dip down and lay across his chest as you watched him.

Nanami only let out a shaky breath as you did so, doing his best to ignore the heat that came off of your body as you pressed into him from behind. It didn’t help that you smelled like vanilla and chocolate; whatever perfume you wore was slowly snaking its way around his neck and choking him.

Choosing not to acknowledge your closeness, he focused on your name, typing it in slowly as he waited for an email mentioning you. When it failed, he then searched the word intern, and sure enough, it popped up. In his spam, a place where all emails specifically from Satoru Gojo were sent.

NANAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII, I need a huge favor: babysit the new hires and show them around the office. I missed the flight yesterday, so I’ll be back next week.

Thanks!!

Satoru.

“How does one miss a flight and choose to return in a week, not the next day?” You asked, a small giggle escaping you. Kento only shook his head, huffing slightly, before turning back around to face you.

“I’m Kento Nanami.”

“I knew that.” You replied shortly, and if Kento could kick himself in the knee, he would ten times over.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” he repeated bluntly. Stay here one moment. When I return, I will give you a tour of this department. I shouldn’t be over ten minutes.”

Before you could even respond, he had vanished, disappearing down a corridor and around a corner, leaving you standing there, slightly bewildered.

Kento silently cursed himself in the supply closet.

He was hiding.

In a closet.

Kento Nanami, the 35-year-old virgin, was hiding in a closet because a pretty woman smelled nice. It didn’t help that you had said his name the way you did.

Smooth and slow and utterly… normal. Kento knew he couldn’t blame all his perverted problems on the object of his desire, no matter how much he wished to.

He sighed heavily, knocking his head into the door in front of him before opening it and emerging once again into reality.

All he needed to do was keep himself calm and composed, not let his eyes drift to your lips, preferably avoid all eye contact, and not mention last weekend under any circumstances.

When he approached his desk again, you weren’t alone. Suguru stood over you as you leaned against his desk for support.

“Oh, it’s Mr. Nanami!” You pointed out, bringing Suguru’s attention to Kento as he approached you.

“Mr. Nanami?” Suguru smirked at you with a tilted head.

“Should I not call him that?” You panicked for all of 3 seconds before Nanami cut in.

“No, no. It is fine.” Letting out a shuddered breath, “Call me whatever you want.” A weak smile went with his words as he twisted to meet the other man.

“Don’t you have a meeting to be in? Where is Yuki?”

“She is already in there stalling. I thought I’d welcome the new hire once again since Satoru has decided to skip his duties. Geto shook his head at the thought of Satoru sipping on mimosas and eating fresh fruit instead of doing his job, his very well-paying job.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you anymore. We can grab lunch or something later!” You suggested before sliding your way to the blonde man. “And you.” Nanami held his breath as you pointed his way, “You owe me a tour.”

“That I do.” Kento said, throwing a tight smile at Geto, trying to mask the ridiculous feeling of jealousy that began blooming in his chest. All Geto gave back was a knowing smile, a smile that you and Kento alike mistook for one given to yourselves, adding to the tension in the room.

***

Walking through the office was probably one of the most awkward experiences of your life.

Whenever you tried to open a conversation, Kento quickly shut it down or stirred it toward work.

This would have been fine had he looked you in the eye at least once as he showed off every inch of the new environment.

“This is our break/rest room. A couch, blankets, pillows and noise-canceling earphones are stored away for when you need to sleep.”

“Ooo, that sounds amazing.” You peered inside since no one was currently rested.

“Yup. All you need to do is flip the card to the red side, lock the door, and then, for at least forty minutes, peace is yours.”

“We pull many all-nighters here as the marketing team; with such a small group, taking forty minutes to one-hour breaks is pretty common.”

“Do you often sleep here?”

“No,” was all he said as he glanced over you, making his way to the kitchen, assuming you’d be following behind him promptly.

With each passing second, your patience wore thinner, and you couldn’t help but huff in annoyance.

As you stood in the final room of the floor, Nanami continued to drone on about the new kettle and fridge space, practically facing the wall opposite you.

“What is your problem?” You snapped at him.

“Excuse me?”

“Why aren’t you looking at me.”

“I am looking at you.”

“I am not talking about now; I am talking about this whole tour, or better yet since I approached you this morning.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You won’t look at me.”

“Y/N–” Kento started.

“You can call me Miss L/N,” You corrected, “I was nervous at the idea of starting a new job in a higher position than before, especially with all of you guys, who already know each other so well, so to be shown around by someone I “knew” it gave me a little bit of comfort. But if this is a problem for Mr. Nanami, then I can wait for Sugu- Mr. Geto, or Yuki to show me around after their meeting. “

“No.”

“No?” You repeated back at him.

“I am sorry.”

“Okay???”

“I struggle talking with women.”

“And looking them in the eye?”

“Yes. To women I am attracted to, I struggle.” He now faced you fully, the tips of his ears burned bright red. You would have found this cute, had it not been utterly shocking.

Oh.

“It is ridiculous, I know, but I am trying to get it under control, so don’t worry about me. I am sorry if I have made you uncomfortable in any way.” And before you could respond, Nanami was back at his desk. Leaving you gobsmacked in the middle of the office Kitchen.

“Oh.” You whispered to no one, hand reaching out and touching your lips.

Preview...

TAG LIST: @marikuchanxo @sukunasstomachtongue @getosgirlfailure @allysunny @tojicvmslut @typefeisu @aiyaaayei @villsophie @sillysillygoofygoose @jinleft @rivversin @haikioo @destinyblue-jjk @ramonathinks @actuallysaiyan @actuallysaiyan @melisuh123 @ureuphoriasworld @jaeminsmilk @rileyglas @bonnieblue0606 @alwaysfreakingout @lovelyiida @ayesayman @dreamgirl5300 @swoozleee @belle-oftheball34 @zeunys @yuzu-ku @aomi04 @y0urpr3ttyp0ck3tpussy @zombriesworld @hazzelle-kento @miinhooo @lucilles-witchery

"CHAPTER FOUR" UPLOADED

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beetlejuicyy · 1 year ago

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Eraser | Ryomen Sukuna x reader

1. Ultimatum

Summary: modern!Sukuna has a tattoo of your name on his chest that he wants to get rid of. Can he, though?

Word count: 2,2k

Masterlist | AO3

Notes: this idea popped in my head very randomly while I was listening to a song and it screamed modern day Sukuna so here it is

“I want it gone.” Sukuna said, already irritated.

“Are you sure? Covering it up would be way easier.” If this bastard kept talking, Sukuna would rather cut his own skin and get the job done faster.

“I want it gone from my skin.” He growled and the guy quickly went back to the computer to search for an appointment date.

“Any other guy wouldn’t have treated you as well as I did!” Sukuna spat back as if that was supposed to fix something.

You sat down on the floor of your bedroom, back resting against the bed. You were tired of yelling and screaming. He would never allow himself to articulate the word love, not even in this fight that was about to end your relationship for good.

“Really? What else is there to be done? Fuck another girl in my own bed?” You replied sarcastically and he groaned in frustration.

You just couldn’t understand. He warned you that the wasn’t he goodie two shoes compliant man going to a 9 to 5 and talking about finance or computer science like your previous flings. He was running an underground illegal business and networking was the most important thing if you wanted to end up on top. Sukuna reiterated these things many times, as if they could overcome the indescribable magnetic pull you felt towards him. He shouldn’t have flirted with you so confidently and insistently if he never planned to let you in. But you eagerly nodded, dismissing all his warnings, all of Yuuji's, his little brother’s warnings that predicted exactly this moment. When you would find out he made out with another woman in a random club at 1:30AM while you obediently ate your vanilla ice cream and binge watched netflix.

“For the last time, woman!” He yelled, his hoarse voice coming from his throat filled the quiet room. “I didn’t fuck her!”

He was sitting in the doorframe of your bedroom, looking at your pathetic form on the floor. Head supported in your hands, your tangled long hair falling over your face. He had been banging on your front door for half an hour before you agreed to open it. He had smoked cigarette after cigarette, trying to relieve some of the stress. When you finally opened the front door to let him in, all the snarky remarks he had prepared faded away. Your eyes were swollen because of crying, the hems of your sleeping t-shirt, his t-shirt, wet with tears. He followed you back to your room, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk in, seeing you like this. Yelling and cursing at each other was easy, but resisting the sight of your pain was harder than anything he had ever done.

“Oh, yeah sure.” He couldn’t see your face because it was covered by your palms but he knew you rolled your eyes. “First you make out with her and then wait until she throws herself at you. Funny thing, worked on me.” Your voice was strained from all the yelling. Your energy had been used up almost entirely. Now all that was left was a bitter, quiet tone.

“I knew that little brat was too young to get involved in these things.” He mumbled more to himself. He pulled at the knot of his black tie. It was already lose enough. He was suffocating.

“Yuuji didn’t tell me.” You laughed. You were so tired of all of it. Your head fell back on the bed and you looked at the ceiling, as if the answer to your problems was written there for you to read. You didn’t need to see his handsome face to know one eyebrow was cocked in surprise. Damn his face and his black shirt and his perfectly tailored pants and his tattoos. “A private number sent me a video.” Sukuna’s tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek in frustration. “You could call it networking.”

He sighed. It was on video. All he could do was walk up to you, crouch down on the floor and try to resist the urge to touch you. You looked so beautifully devastated at 3:42 AM, only in your panties and one of his t-shirts, pretty legs sprawled on the floor, neck exposed just waiting for his teeth to sink in. But you already thought he was disgusting. It would only make things worse to admit that this sight of you turned him on.

“They’re trying to get to me, can’t you see?” Sukuna’s voice had never been so calm, so quiet. It was deep and throaty, coming from the utmost effort and consideration he held in his large body. “They know how important you are to me.” You only half smiled, as if he said something supposedly funny.

How come you didn’t know how important you were to him? How come he never told you how he felt about you? How come anytime you would seek reassurance from him you would end up in a sexual circumstance? He would tell you that you’re pretty, beautiful, sexy. He would make you feel like a goddess when he would touch you. And you would fall for it most of the time. But never, not once, express his feelings, his sincere and most vulnerable feelings towards you. You couldn’t do that for the both of you anymore. Sukuna seemed to understand the lack of trust from your silence, from the curled corner of your mouth forming a sad half smile, from your empty eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

“I needed information, y/n.” The sleeves of his shirt were folded up to his elbows, a strong smell of cigarettes deeply impregnated in the fabric. You raised your head from the mattress to look at him, bloodshot piercing eyes staring at you closely. “It’s the easiest way of doing it.”

“Yeah, actually you’re right. I need a Prada bag I’ll just make out with the security guy and he’ll give it to me.”

“I can buy it for you.”

Slap.

Sukuna didn’t expect it. The stinging sensation your palm left across his cheek burned deeper than the surface of his skin. It burned inside his heart. He didn’t look back at you. He kept his face turned away, so you could see how the skin changed into a pinkish color, more vibrant than the pink of his hair. Sukuna took a deep breath, licking his lips, trying to find a way to contain himself.

“I knew you had been a manwhore before. But I really thought, I really wanted you to respect me.” Your words cut sharper than any slap could. Your voice was getting louder and shakier with every word, anger and misery mixed in a pitiful sound. “I was stupid to think you would really care.”

“I do.” He said between his gritted teeth.

“You don’t. You just proved it tonight.”

“I told you multiple times.” He placed both of his hands on either side of your frame at the edge of the bed. The smell of his musky high end perfume mixed with cigarettes and a slight scent of alcohol as he spoke intoxicated you. You couldn’t avoid him. “This is what I do, take it or leave it. You said you’re fine with it.”

“You’re saying it’s my fault?” Suddenly you became very aware of the fact that you were covered in minimal clothing and the way he was looking at you, that mix of anger and frustration, his clenched jaw, his soft lips, they all made you want to stop fighting.

“I’m saying you’re exaggerating.”

“You really want me to slap you again.”

“Only if you can bear the consequences.”

You pushed your knees against his body, trying to break away from the cage of his muscular arms at your sides, keeping you prisoner. He didn’t even flinch. You kicks became stronger and more desperate, fighting against him while he did absolutely nothing to you. Sukuna looked at you in surprise, not expecting to be pushed away like this. Usually it took him a few intimidating looks and some sugarcoated words to make you forget that you were mad at him.

No more gaslighting.

No more forgiveness without an apology.

No more loving by yourself for the both of you.

“What the fuck are you doing, y/n?!” He asked in a raspy voice, placing large hands on your bare thighs and forcing them flat against the floor. But now you pushed him away with your arms, although your hands weren’t sure if they should cling to his shirt and pull him close or push him away from you.

“You don’t love me!” Your voice broke and you started crying, salty tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.

You just did it. You said that one thing that had been eating you from inside out for so long, that thing that you were so afraid of voicing out loud. You stopped struggling altogether. Sukuna’s heart broke. He always thought he could get away with his way of living, even after getting into this relationship. You would understand. You would forgive. You would know nobody else meant shit and you were the most important person to him.

“I have you right here, silly.” He said, his hand gesturing to his chest. He was referring to the tattoo he got a couple months ago, a small addition to his collection, your name right above his heart. You were never into this kind of things but he came up with the idea and you guessed you were important enough to him to be part of the story on his skin.

“You can always cover it up.” You said, unable to understand that this was his way of saying I love you, his way of carrying you in his heart at all times. “But what about my heart? I can't cover that up.” You brought your knees to your chest, hugging them with your arms, resting your forehead on top of them. You were so small, so frail. Sukuna used to think you were a strong soul but it seemed that you were more vulnerable than you showed. He had just broken you. Continuously hit your seemingly indestructible outer layer, like a glass that cracked more and more with time, until it shattered completely tonight. He wanted to hug you, to comfort you, to reassure you. But you only wanted one thing. He knew the only thing that would give him a chance would be to say three simple words. And he couldn’t bring himself to say them. So he just sat there on the floor with you, while you sobbed your pain away. The strong and mighty Ryomen Sukuna whom so many people feared was reduced to silence by a woman.

“Go away, Sukuna.” You said when your sobs quieted down, your tears ran dry and your mind started to clear out. You rose your eyes to look at him, still standing in front of you. “Go away!” You said, louder this time, like trying to get a dog to stop following you.

“Do you really want me to leave, you brat?” He asked, hoping that you would change your mind in the last minute.

“Get the fuck out!” You yelled, grabbing whatever your hand found closest to you and throwing it in his direction. It was his pack of cigarettes that was now half empty. It hit him right in his chest before falling miserably on the floor. He didn’t even feel it.

Sukuna had been trying to get in contact with you for the past two weeks. Work had him busy and exhausted all the time but not enough to forget that you weren’t answering his calls, weren’t replying his messages. You even got rid of the airtag he had given you to know your location at all times for safety. He pestered his little brother Yuuji to talk to you but he kept saying you weren’t answering him either. The brat was lying, he knew it. These two weeks had passed excruciatingly slow for Sukuna. It seemed like you had given up on him completely. In an attempt to tend to his shattered ego, given that all hope was gone for his broken heart, he decided to get rid of the tattoo of your name on his chest. He wasn’t going to cover it, like you said. He was going to remove it for good.

“You have to sign here aaand here.” The guy at the reception handed him a pen for the paperwork. Sukuna was just about to sign when his phone rang. When he saw the picture of his little brother on the screen his heart skipped a beat. He was so pathetic. He really hoped Yuuji had some news about you.

“I’m busy, what is it?”

“Uhm, it’s about y/n.” Yuuji’s voice was hesitant, like he still wasn’t sure he was supposed to share this information.

“What about y/n?” Sukuna was growing impatient.

“I think… I think she might be going on a date.” Sukuna’s vision darkened. The grip on his phone was so tight his knuckles turned white.

“Not on my fucking watch.” He muttered between his teeth. “Send me the location.” He turned on his heels in a second, walking out of the building with rushed angry steps.

“Uhm, sir? Your appointment?” The guy at the reception yelled, confused.

“I ain’t removing shit!” He yelled back as he reached his motorcycle. Yuuji had already sent him your location.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna #sukuna jjk #jujustu kaisen #sukuna imagine #sukuna angst

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perfctvelvet · 5 months ago

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we need tate mcrae!!

pairing: Tate Mcrae/Fem!Reader

content: 2nd pov, college AU, brother's best friend trope, semi-public sex, teasing, oral sex (reader receiving).

A/N: I just love colleges AUs so much 🤗 not edited btw so all mistakes are my own

Tonight's mission was to infiltrate the campus' most coveted frat party and catch your roommate's boyfriend in the act cheating on her. Instead you two got separated in this huge house and after one too many drinks, you ended up in some random guys bed with your brother's best friend between your legs.

"I always thought you were so pretty, Y/n."

To say it's a dream come true would be an understatement, especially when you've fantasized about Tate before. When your brother bragged about his best friend being cool and "able to pull any girl" you didn't think that said best friend would be Tate. However if you were being honest, the first time you met her you instantly were attracted to you. There was something so magnetic about her and then in that moment you understood why she could have whoever she wanted.

You had wanted that person to be you. You watched her at other parties flirt with a girl and then take her upstairs to disappear for the night. It didn't take much thinking to know what they were doing in some stranger's room, but you always imagined yourself being the one. Tate being your brother's best friend made you feel a little guilty for having these thoughts, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him.

Now you have Tate whispering compliments against your bare thighs. You feel the urge to shut them in embarrassment, but Tate's body is in the way. She has your legs pried open and your panties are hanging off your foot. She's not the first person to be there, but she is hottest.

Tate spreads your pussy lips apart just to hear how you react. Your desperate cry has her smirking up at you.

"I'm barely touching you, Y/n," she teases. Her voice is warm and makes you melt. She liked to poke fun at people, including you, but it felt like an honor to be made fun of while she's ogling your dripping cunt. Sure she's done this with others plenty of times, but you believe it's different with you. You're her friend's little sister; you should be off-limits, but you're not.

You were so wet that your juices were clinging to your lips even as Tate spread them. Her mouth was beginning to water as she stared at the mess that was beginning to form. She wanted to hold out a little longer like she usually does, but Tate can't help herself. She had to have a taste of you like you were a forbidden fruit.

She buries her face in your pussy and you don't have a chance to catch your breath.

"Fuck!" You moan out. The must downstairs was so loud that you're convinced no one is going to be able to hear your moans of pleasure, so you don't hold back. You moan as loud as you want while Tate begins to eat your pussy.

Touching and eating you like she wants to spend the rest of her life between your thighs. The sounds coming from her mouth with were loud and lewd, it felt like watching a porno. You were overwhelmed every time you glanced down to see that it was Tate between your legs. It was as if you couldn't believe your eyes. She presses her tongue into your clit and wiggles it from side to side. She lets out a drunken giggle at the way you squirm. She was loving this, loving being the one to make you scream.

"Pretty, pretty girl," she coos against your sex.

Her words made you feel good, but you were more concerned with having her mouth on your pussy. You push her face deeper into your cunt and Tate takes the hint. She licked, sucked, and nibbled on your pussy like it was a feast. You begin to feel things you've never felt before as your pleasure reaches new heights. The pads of her fingers were digging into your hips. The pain of her tight grip mixed with pleasure and made you even wetter. Your arousal dripped onto her chin as she kissed your pussy.

Her lips are so soft, but it was her skilled tongue that drove you insane. Tate teases your entrance with her tongue before she slides in a few inches, pushing out more of your arousal. Your slit was fluttering around her tongue. The most intense bubble began to form in your belly and you had to make it known.

"T-Tate...Tate...I'm gonna cum!"

She doesn't come back up with some quip that would leave your cheeks hot. No, instead Tate slid her tongue out and began to suck on your clit. You were seeing stars as the sounds of her sucking filled your ears. Holding out just to feel a few more seconds of pleasure was pointless because Tate's mouth was demanding that you cum for it.

And, cum you did. You don't think you've ever had an orgasm this hard and intense in your life. Hundreds of frat boys are partying downstairs, but they could make a woman feel as good as this. You're not even sure when your orgasm ended because you were on a high for such a long time, it had a stupid smiling forming on your face.

Tate reluctantly pulls herself from her legs, but not before admiring her handy work. She bites her lip and looks up at you. "Your gorgeous," she says sincerely. She reaches in her back pocket and whips out her phone. "Can I?" She asks so sweetly.

You hesitate. There is going to be a picture of your dripping pussy in your brother's best friends phone. Some time down the line that photo could lead to a lot of problems. But in the current moment the idea excites you. You nod your head eagerly and she takes a few photos of your cunt. You were glistening all over. Your pussy was an absolute mess and Tate managed to make your thighs messy too. You were puffy and sensitive to touch. It was too sexy for Tate not to have the physical memory of this. After taking a few pictures, Tate is satisfied.

"Good girl. Now come up here and Taste yourself."

#tate mcrae x reader #tate mcrae smut #f/f #f/f smut #f/f fanfic #smut #blurb #lesbian fanfic #lesbian smut #celeb smut

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sillydizzybxtches · 2 months ago

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rare film , r. george

★ WARNINGS ; smut, camgirl!switch!regina, switch!reader, recording sex ☆ ⸺ SYNOPSIS ; whenever regina invites you over, it's usually to film and post for her followers—this time, though, she has something different in mind. ˇ ⋆ ╱ AUTHOR'S NOTE ; fem!reader + regina is 21 or older, 6.5k words—if you can't tell, i got really carried away ... so, enjoy this 6-thousand-word manifesto of utter filth!! this is literally pure porn.

A few footsteps forward, and you were there again—on her doorstep, waiting for her: Regina George.

You didn't know what it was—but whatever it was intimidated the fuck out of you and you didn't know why; even as you stood before a double-doored, secure mansion in a gated community, the anxiety clung to you like a second skin and made your stomach hot. Or, maybe it was the anticipation. You honestly couldn't tell anymore.

It wasn't like it was your first time here, either. For the last 6 months at least, you've shown up on Regina's doorstep per her command. It wasn't anything weird, at this point—it was just routine. She called you, and within 20 minutes, you were back at her door with the same feeling. Everytime you came here, there was always the same nervousness that melted away the moment you step foot inside. And—

The door clicked open, pulling you out of your thoughts; all your worries peeled away when you saw Regina standing in the doorway, her smirk wide and gaze narrowed down at you like she was judging you. She was clad in a satin pink robe and was nursing a glass of, what was clearly and unsurprisingly, expensive wine that probably cost a small fortune. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders and her fingers were tightly clenched around the glass. Bitchy and magnetic, that's what she was.

"Hey, loser," She scoffed, tilting her head slightly as she looked down at you. "Are you gonna keep staring, or are you gonna come in?" Without giving you a chance to say anything, she turned around and walked back in, to which you hustled behind her.

"Shut the door on your way in!"

You shut the door before wandering behind Regina and moving into the kitchen, wonderfully decorated and organized in all its glory. Her back was turned at the bar and you watched her move around, and you cleared your throat to inform her of your presence. "Hey, Gina," You hummed, the nickname rolling off your tongue like it was nothing; mostly, because it was nothing. According to her, when it came to you, she didn't care what you called her as long as you called.

"Hey, baby. Thirsty at all?" She echoed in response.

"Mhm, but I'll take whatever you give me," You responded as you came up behind her, trying to peek over her shoulder to see what she was doing. Before you could get a good view, she turned around and faced you with her refilled wine glass and that same smirk. "You always take whatever I give you," She scoffed playfully; you resisted the urge to roll your eyes to avoid however she'd use that against you later. "You can have some of mine. I'm almost out, otherwise, I would've poured you a glass," She hummed before turning on her heels, to which you followed like a lost puppy—that was kind of just how it worked between you two, though. You followed her command with little question, just how you both liked it.

You followed her to the living room, watching as she sat down on the couch and leaned back. Red wine on a white couch? She was either drunk or just didn't care; news flash, it wasn't the former.

You plopped down beside her and hummed, and she threw her legs over your lap while wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You swallowed as her robe loosened a bit, riding up on her soft thighs and revealing some of her cleavage. You accidentally stared for a moment before you felt her freshly-manicured fingers grip your chin, redirecting your gaze. "Ah-ah, babe. My eyes are up here," She teased, her smirk cocky. "Oh, shit—sorry," You sputtered, to which the blonde giggled in amusement before rolling her eyes. "Just shut up and take a sip."

She put the glass to your lips and you felt her other hand come up to grip your hair, gently tilting your head back to let the sweet beverage flow into your mouth. You felt that feeling in your lower stomach again at her sense of control—God, she was just hypnotic. "There you go," Regina hummed lowly, watching as you slowly downed it before she pulled the glass back and gave you air. You swallowed the drink and blinked as your head began to buzz slightly—it was sweet, but strong. You could see why she was trying to preserve it.

"Did I get here too early?" You hummed as the taste lingered on your tongue, surprised by how relaxed and comfortable she was—well, in a natural way. She always managed to present as though she had a settled composure, but you knew her enough to know that she wasn't in a rush, this time; she wasn't as serious, as quick, or as stoic. She was just there.

"No, what makes you think that?" Regina shrugged as she brought the glass to her own lips, humming as she did so. You shrugged. "I don't know—it just feels different, today? I could just be delusional."

"Well, it is different today," She deadpanned but didn't give further details. Before you could say anything or even ask about it, she pressed the wine glass to your lips to shut you up while she spoke. She tugged your head back a bit more roughly, and you gasped slightly before taking a few more sips. "It's no big deal—I'm just not working today," She hummed, her tone relaxed. You expected her to let you go, but she kept the wine flowing into your mouth, keeping you busy so she could keep talking. "But don't worry, baby—we're still recording. It's gonna be just for me this time, though. Got it?"

That was when she let up, removing the glass from your lips and letting you take a second; now, the glass was empty. She set it on the coffee table before turning her attention back to you.

You nodded in agreement as felt your brain buzz a bit more, but not enough for you to really be tipsy. For the second time, her fingers found your jaw and forced you to look up at her. "Words, baby."

"Yes, ma'am—got it," You repeated, to which she smirked. "Good."

There was a suddenness with the way she kissed you; she roughly turned your cheek before crashing her lips onto yours, humming softly as she felt you freeze up in surprise before melting against her lips. You let out a low groan and your hand found the back of her neck as you pulled each other closer, desperate to have more of her now, even if she'd have it her way. Regina had no problem taking what was hers.

Her fingers tightened around your jaw as she tilted her head to deepen the kiss, clearly trying to take control and suck all of the air out of you; oh, she'd leave you gasping for air until you saw stars, and she fucking loved it. Without warning, you felt her hand that was in your hair move to your sternum to guide you onto your back, forcing your elbows to sink into the couch as you used them to prop you up. As she crawled to hover over you, she reconnected your lips and kept that firm grip on your jaw, her nails digging into the soft skin. She pressed herself closer to you and you felt your noses clash from the intensity, to which you leaned forward in desperation while she pushed you back down and kissed you harder. You moaned softly at her dominance, and you felt her grip you tighter and kiss you harder—you were at the point where you didn't want to stop, but you couldn't fucking breathe. If you died like this, you definitely would've been happy; she wouldn't let that happen, though.

Regina pulled back a bit to give you air and to catch her own, and fuck, you swore you couldn't wait to touch her anymore; her stunning emerald eyes were blown with lust; her cheeks were flushed from the intensity of it all and from the simple fact that she damn near suffocated you both, and her lips were swollen and parted as her chest heaved. You probably didn't look too much different from her. She was fucking perfect, and it so was unfair. You felt lucky to even get to see her like this, of all things.

After a few seconds of catching her breath, she pressed another kiss to your lips, but lingered only for a moment and started turning your head to press kisses along your jawline. "Did you miss me, baby?" She purred breathlessly, and fuck, that did things to you. Of course, you fucking missed her; she was perfect. "Yes," You whined out as she tilted your chin up, kissing down the curve of your jaw and causing you to shudder as her lips found your neck. "Tell me what you missed, then?" She hummed. What were you supposed to say? You missed it when she kissed you like this? Or when she'd suffocate you with her thighs? When she made you beg for her to let her use you?

"I missed how you taste and how you feel," You sighed as you felt your heartbeat continue to race at a high rate that was probably unhealthy. "I miss worshiping you—how you sound when you cum on my fingers. I miss that privilege."

"Oh, yeah?" Regina giggled as she continued to kiss down your neck, pausing for a moment before licking a stripe up the side of it. "You miss being allowed to touch me and fuck me, is that it?" She spat, yet there was no venom in her tone. Suddenly, she bit down on the side of your neck, eliciting a whine from you and prompting you to answer as she sucked on the area. "Yes, Regina," You whined. "I miss it so, so much. I miss you, and I miss being yours."

You shuddered as you felt her smirk and groan against your skin at your tone, her hands beginning to feel along the curves of your body as you laid beneath her. She moved away from the area she bit after soothing it over with her tongue, kissing along your flesh before nipping at your pulse point, her teeth scratching at it. "Mine," Regina repeated, sighing softly before finding a spot on your collarbone. One of her hands slid under your shirt, resting on the soft skin of your abdomen before moving up to your breast, squeezing softly. Her tongue made its way against the side of your neck again before she pulled away. Just as you were about to whimper in protest, your complaint was quickly replaced with a yelp as her other hand got tangled in your hair and yanked your head back, angling your gaze up at her hungry, needy gaze. She leaned forward and brought her face close to yours, her breath fanning over your lips as she spoke.

"You wanna be good for me, baby? D'you wanna be good for Mommy?" She hummed lowly, to which you nodded desperately before remembering the rules. "Yes, ma'am," You sighed. You moaned softly as you felt her other hand continue to massage your tit, her thumb running over your nipple as she watched your reactions intently. She smirked when you gasped, and she bit her lip. "Then, you're going to go upstairs to my room, since that's where I want to film today," She hummed. "And you're going to wait and do nothing else. Got it?" You nodded, but when you didn't answer, a harsh tug on your scalp prompted you to respond properly. What? It wasn't your fault her beauty made you forget how to speak. "Got it."

She climbed off of you and ran a hand through her hair, her dilated eyes watching as you got up and hesitantly went upstairs, tracking your every move as you did so. God, she was going to make you ruin her.

Not too long after you practically flew up the stairs out of impatience and excitement, Regina followed you up; when she pushed the door open and looked at you with those sharp, tempting eyes, her head was tilted slightly as she looked you up and down. She was quick to shut the door and turn on the pre-set camera equipment before turning on her heels toward you, her bottom lip taken between her teeth as she scanned you, perched on the bed. Ready for her.

Silence clung between you two for a moment; then, without a word, she grabbed your collar and pulled you into a bruising kiss. You couldn't do anything but melt into her touch, groaning softly as she moved to straddle your lap. Your hands quickly found her hips and pulled her down against you, to which Regina whined before promptly taking a handful of your hair and yanking it back, causing you to yelp in surprise. "Did I say you could touch me?" She spat with narrowed eyes, her smirk prominent on her lips. "We just started, and you're already breaking rules, hm? I expected better from you," She scoffed, and you couldn't tell if she was just teasing or being serious. "Sorry, ma'am—" You corrected. "Can I touch you, please? I promise, I'll be good," You whined. She glared down at you and you watched her smirk widen—God, she loved the power she had over you. You were so fucking easy.

"Since you're so desperate for it, babe, why not?" She scoffed. "You're lucky you're even allowed to touch me." In an instant, she reconnected your lips.

You could tell it was different this time—not just because she was filming in her actual bedroom instead of the one she had designated for filming or because she was recording just for herself, but because of the way she kissed you. She was more possessive and forward about what she wanted from you—she kissed you senseless and literally marked you as hers (not that you minded). All of it just seemed much more desperate than usual; not like she was hungry for you, but fucking starving. You didn't know what this was, but fuck, you could tell you needed more of this version of her.

Her hand moved from being tangled in your hair to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer to her while your fingers dug into her hips. She whined softly and quickly shoved her tongue into your mouth—claiming what was hers with no mercy. She pressed herself against you like she was trying to become one with you—like she fucking needed you, and God, that made your already-buzzed brain feel even more drunk off of the ecstasy. Neither of you thought, you just felt.

You didn't know what the fuck was going on other than the fact that you loved it.

The kiss was so, so messy—your tongues danced, your lips locked, and you felt her trying to press closer to you, to get more of you. You took advantage of the opportunity to begin to guide her against your thigh, your pace slow and steady—fuck, she was soaked. Was this all for you, all because of you? God, you needed more; she clearly did, too.

Regina pulled away from the kiss to regain her breath, gasping softly as her hips rolled against your thigh, the friction making her brain fuzzy. She looked down at you with glossy eyes and parted lips, her hands moving to your shoulders as she swallowed. "Fuck me, baby," She moaned in your ear, tilting her head down at you. This? This was fucking insane—she knew how to disarm you with just the right tone and glare. Maybe you were easy, and if this was where it got you, then you'd take it.

Without hesitation, you moved your hand to tangle in her blonde locks and tugged her head back gently—and she let you, pressing kisses to the soft skin of her neck. Her eyes fluttered as she let out a low hum, her cunt dripping on your thigh. "You missed this, right, baby?" She hummed as you ran your tongue up the side of her neck, to which she moaned softly. "Yes, ma'am," You sighed against her neck.

"God, you're so, so perfect," You hummed lowly as you quickened her pace, your teeth scraping against her neck and eliciting a whimper from her. "Y-Yeah, baby? And how am I perfect?" Regina cooed, her smirk widening as her hand found your hair again and pulled you back to make you look at her. Oh, she had to hear this.

Fuck, how were you supposed to answer that? It was all just her—she was fucking perfect.

You swallowed as she looked down at you expectantly. "Use your words," She commanded firmly. You hummed, looking up at her with wide eyes, "Just every part of you, ma'am—your eyes, your smile, your body ... how needy you are." Subconsciously, you began to rock her at a quicker pace, biting your lip in thought. Fuck.

Regina chuckled softly at your reaction, watching as your brain began to turn to mush—just how she liked you. "Oh, baby—" She crooned, her other hand sliding under your chin. "You think I'm needy, after you were just begging to fuck me? That's so cute," She scoffed, her eyes narrowing down at you as she took her lip between her teeth. The hand on your chin moved up so that her thumb could tug at your bottom lip, her lashes fluttering and her tone low. If looks could kill, she'd have fatal attraction.

"Open your mouth," She hissed, and you obeyed knowingly, letting your mouth fall open for her. "Good girl," Regina purred in satisfaction before pushing two fingers into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around her digits and began to suck, gripping her hips tighter as she began to push them in and out of your mouth. "You're so pretty like this; so eager to please," She rasped , her expression and eyes conflicting; her smirk was wide and prideful, like she was proud of the control she had, but her eyes flickered with desperation, like she was struggling to keep control over herself. She was trying to stay put together, and you wanted to make her fucking fall apart.

"Anything for you," You whimpered, to which she shut you up by shoving her fingers back into your mouth. You took advantage of her vulnerability and gradually began to increase her pace, your hands steadily guiding her hips against your clothed thigh while she finger-fucked your throat, subtly gagging on her digits every now and then. Her gasps and groans grew louder and more frequent, her pace picking up as she seized some control while she looked down on you with those conflicted green eyes; fuck, this was perfect. Regina had you gagging on her fingers, showering her with praise, and following her every command—and you were more than happy to do it. And, fuck, the friction against her aching cunt felt so fucking good. God, what if she just came like this right now—for you? Fuck, that got her off. It'd be so—

Shit.

You were caught off guard when the blonde suddenly yanked your hair, and hard, making you yelp while she glared down at you with pointed eyes. What? Your hands kept her pace steady, but that was the fucking problem—she was too close, too soon.

"Fuck, baby—Y/N, stop," Regina snapped, biting down on her lip as she tried to slow her pace and regain self-control. You whined and gripped her hips to a bruising point, slowing her to a stop. What happened? Did you hurt her? Was she already tired?

You looked up at her with concern as her chest heaved from the sudden interruption, preventing her orgasm seconds before it happened. Fuck, she needed more of that. She slowly withdrew her fingers from your mouth, panting a bit as her almost-high feeling began to level out but settle in her bones, making her crave more.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" You hummed, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear with care. "I'm fine," Regina huffed, her dilated gaze fixing back on you. "Did you expect to be allowed to make me cum that fast? Oh, no, baby—you have to earn it," She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she dragged her wet fingers down the column of your throat. She watched in mesmerisation until her fingers landed by the collar of your shirt, giving her an idea. "Take this off, and get rid of those," She spat curtly, her head tilting down at you. You quickly obeyed and pulled your shirt over your head and your pants off, tossing them to the side and leaving you exposed to her in a bra and underwear. She clicked her tongue as her gaze fell over your nearly bare body and her smirk widened as her gaze hardened. She suddenly climbed off of your lap, leaving you to whine in protest as her warmth left yours.

She walked a few feet short of the bed, turning toward you as she hummed. "On your knees, now," Regina growled and pointed at the ground before her, tilting her chin up with a wide, cocky smirk. God, the chokehold this fucking woman had on you; she could step on you, and you'd thank her. "Yes, ma'am," You hummed as you walked over before kneeling down, tilting your head in curiosity.

"How about you help Mommy take this off?" She purred as she gestured to her robe, but it wasn't a question—and even if it was, the answer was fuck yes either way. You swallowed and sighed, taking your lip between your teeth. "Can I touch you, please?" You hummed, but it came out as more of a pathetic whimper—fuck. Regina's smirk widened and she hummed before reaching out to tilt your chin up, purring, "Of course you can, baby—you're so desperate to please Mommy, aren't you? Such a sweet, pathetic little thing."

You were quick to stand on your knees and get to work on the belt of the soft robe, tugging at the knot until it loosened and watching it cling to her shoulders. Regina hummed and gestured for you to get up to finish the job, which you obeyed; standing on your heels and gently pushing the delicate fabric off of her shoulders. And, fuck, you couldn't help but stare and admire the perfect woman before you; her curves, muscle, and everything in-between—fuck, you were lucky you even got to see her like this. God, you wanted to touch her so, so badly. The blonde giggled softly as she watched you stare before grabbing your chin and pulling you in close, her breath ghosting over your lips. "You like what you see, baby?" She cooed, her eyes darting to your lips and lingering for a moment before looking back up at your wide eyes. You nodded with a whimper, to which she squeezed your jaw. "Don't fuck up now, you're doing so good," She hissed. "Use your words."

"Yes, ma'am—fuck, I like what I see," You gasped as you ran your tongue over your lips. Regina tsked and hummed in response, and you felt her hand slide from your chin to your shoulder. "On your knees," She repeated; you sank down onto your knees before her, watching her cocky smirk perk up at your position.

Regina stepped a bit closer to you before letting her hand slide into your hair, slightly tugging your head back. "Open for me," She purred, and you let your mouth fall open and your tongue stick out. "God, you're fucking desperate," She scoffed with no real venom to her words. She admired for a moment then proceeded to spit into your open mouth, the glob of saliva sliding down your tongue and toward the back of your throat. You flinched slightly but didn't hesitate to swallow, whimpering as her grip on your hair tightened a bit upon watching. "We aren't done," She hissed. "Keep your mouth open—you're going to make Mommy feel good."

Once again, you didn't hesitate—that was just something you didn't do when it came to her. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out for her, to which Regina hummed in satisfaction before bracing herself. She took her lip between her teeth and mounted your face, her throbbing cunt aching with need against your tongue. Fuck—you groaned lowly at the taste before temporarily pulling away to press kisses to her inner thighs. Oh, you were going to savor this and spoil her.

Your lips worked against the soft flesh of the blonde's thighs, your hands gripping them as you moved upward, the faint taste of her arousal lingering on your lips from when she was on your tongue. Regina tugged at your hair in impatience and hissed, her vixen eyes narrowing down at you and silently telling you to hurry the fuck up; you hummed and moved your lips higher until you finally pressed a kiss to her aching pussy before diving in. You licked up her wet folds and felt her shudder above you at the contact, a soft groan escaping her lips. Okay, fuck it—you were too impatient, and so was she. You didn't care.

You licked a stripe from her entrance to her clit before dipping your tongue inside of her, her wetness dripping on your lips as you collected it on your tongue. You alternated between tongue-fucking her and flattening your tongue against her, and once she started grinding against your tongue, you felt your smirk widen and your grip on her thighs tighten.

"Fuck, baby—" She groaned, whimpering as you continued to work her. "I need more," She hissed as she tugged at your roots harder, pulling you into her. You moved your hand and went to work, circling her entrance with two fingers before slowly pushing them into her. She let out a moan as you didn't hesitate or tease, pumping in and out of her. You flattened your tongue against her weeping cunt before wrapping your lips around her clit and sucking, hard—to which Regina let out a pitchy moan and pulled your face impossibly closer. "Fuck!" She cried out, her hips rocking against your face at an utterly desperate pace. She whined, "Oh, shit—don't you fucking stop!"

You didn't want this to end; you had half a mind to edge her again, if it were up to you and if you weren't so desperate to have her cum for you over and over. Fuck, you didn't know what it was, but your brain was mush. You didn't think, because you couldn't. All you could focus on was how Regina George tasted and how she rode your tongue and fingers like it was her fucking lifeline; how you could barely breathe, but didn't care because you needed this so, so bad. You needed her to cum in your mouth while her words slurred out of the pure ecstasy that you brought her—you needed to bring her pleasure, over and over again, until she scolded you for being so desperate but praised you for being so good. You just fucking needed Regina George—you didn't care.

You picked up your pace desperately, your tongue alternating between flattening against and sucking on her clit while your fingers pumped until you started curling them, your digits ramming into her G-spot time and time again until she was fucking shaking and clenching around you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—God, baby, please—" She pleaded.

"Please, what, Mommy?" You asked in confusion, your words muffled by her cunt.

"Let me cum, please."

Was she begging to cum for you? That was new.

Like, really new. Regina George didn't beg.

But you didn't care; your fingers curled at an impossible pace and you sucked on her clit, desperate to bring her over the edge. "Cum for me, Gina," You whimpered, and fuck, you almost came from watching her. The moment you gave her permission, she clenched around your fingers and screamed your fucking name, her eyes rolling back in pleasure as she convulsed and kept fucking herself on your fingers and tongue to ride out her high. You slowed your pace but didn't even think about stopping, doing your best to prolong her pleasure until she grinding slowed to a stop and she just stood there weakly, breathless with your fingers nestled inside of her momentarily. Fuck. You'd fucked before, but that felt different.

Her grip on your hair slackened. After you two caught your breath, you pulled your fingers out of her cunt; God, you were drenched in her. Her cum coated your hand and chin, along with her own inner thighs, but you got the most of it—was it slutty to say that you couldn't be happier?

"Get up," Regina said breathlessly, tilting your chin up to look down on you, her eyes clouded with lust and confusion. God, you really were pretty like this. It made her want to return the favor.

You wanted to melt into her palm, but instead, obediently stood up as she commanded. Her hand found your jaw, and, without warning, she pulled you into a kiss, moaning and getting greedier as she tasted herself on your lips. You moaned lowly and pushed her back, causing her gasp as her back hit the wall. Her tongue pressed into your mouth with an urgency and her hands freely roamed your body, stopping once they found the clasp of your bra to un-clasp it and toss it aside. Your slick-covered hand gripped her waist as your nails bit into her soft flesh, leaving crescent moon-shaped indents in their wake. Her hands continued to feel your body until they landed on your tits, which she teased and massaged. You moaned softly and pulled away from the kiss for a moment, melting into the feel of her hands on your body and leaning your forehead against hers. Your eyes met with hers; cloudy, hungry, and desperate. Still conflicted, but you didn't know why.

Her hands continued to toy with your breasts, alternating between her thumbs rolling over your nipples and pinching them between her fingers. She moved a hand to tilt your head up so she could press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, her lips moving down the column of your throat. "God—you're so, so fucking good for me," Regina practically moaned before sinking her teeth into your neck, moving her hands to roam your body while she continued to suck a bruise into your skin. You groaned lowly, moving a hand to one of her angel-sculpted tits to reciprocate her actions while the other squeezed the plush of her ass. She drew away from your neck and ran her tongue over the bruise before continuing down to your chest, kissing and nipping at the skin there. "Aren't you? My good, desperate girl?" She asked, her tone raspy and greedy.

"Fuck, yes—yours," You whined out, squeezing her tit and eliciting a moan from her. She continued to kiss down your chest until she reached your tits, then your navel, and then just at the hem of your underwear. She took a finger and tugged at the elastic until it snapped back against your skin, causing you to let out a small whimper. "Aw, do you need something, baby?" She cooed, pressing her fingers against the damp spot of the fabric, feeling how fucking soaked you were. "Yes, please, ma'am," You whined pathetically. "God, are you this wet from fucking me?" She scoffed. "Pathetic—but I think you deserve a reward, since you've done been so good for Mommy."

Regina's teeth bit into the hem of your underwear before pulling them down to pool around your ankles, and you kicked them away eagerly as her smirk widened. She stood back up and pulled you into another kiss, and you stepped forward so her back hit the wall again. You felt her fingers dance up your side and her knee pushed your legs apart, your arousal dripping down your thighs and your cunt aching for attention. Without warning, the blonde palmed your pussy and pressed the heel of her palm against your clit, making your hips buck and pulling a whine of desperation from you. You fucking needed her.

"Please, Mommy," You whimpered, resisting the urge to grind against her hand. She tsked and smirked against your lips, her fingers slowly running through your folds. "Since you asked so nicely, baby ..." She purred before plunging two fingers into you, and fuck, you let out a throaty whine.

Her pace started off slow and steady, tortuously pumping in and out of you, her thumb finding your clit and rotating over it. God, you were impatient; you needed more, and Regina knew what she was doing. After seeing that you were willing to wait and listen, she was quick to increase her pace—her fingers curling into your G-spot deliciously, your walls clenching around her fingers as her thumb continued to torture your clit. Within seconds, you were grinding against her palm and riding her fingers desperately—your head hung and legs shaking. Fuck, she was insane.

"Ma'am, I-I'm close—" You whimpered, to which Regina slowed her pace. "Not yet, baby," She cooed in your ear, her tongue flicking against the shell of it. You whined at her teasing but took it without complaint, squeezing a handful her ass. Whatever she gave you was a blessing.

And having you like this got her off—enough to where she took your hand and held it against her pussy, her eyes silently begging for more of you. You nodded and had no problem obeying her command—you teased her entrance before beginning to pump your digits in-and-out of her, and as you picked up, her pace began to match yours, bringing you closer.

"F-Fuck," You whined and trembled around her fingers, your clit grinding against her palm while she fucked you; her forehead was pressed to yours while she rolled her hips against your digits, your thumb pressed against her clit making her legs want to give out. Fuck, she was close. Her fingers began to curl into your G-spot at a merciless pace, and you practically fucking screamed in pleasure. You reciprocated her actions and your moans began mix, your breaths picking up while you both got close. Neither of you thought, just felt—and you couldn't fucking wait anymore. You were fucking Regina George against her bedroom wall, about to cum with her, And all after God-knows-how-long of fucking.

"Fuck, I can't—" You choked out, your teeth sinking into your lip. Regina's fingers wrapped around your chin and forced you to look up at her flushed face, her emerald eyes hooded and glossy. "I don't care—cum with me, please," She pleaded; both of your moans got throatier, and you couldn't wait anymore. You felt it in your whole body—the bottom of your feet, your chest, your stomach—fuck, you were coming with her and for her. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—!"

Just as you came, she did, her cunt convulsing around her fingers while yours did the same, her name and obscenities slurring from your pretty lips while she continually fucked you through your orgasm. You continued to curl your fingers and didn't stop until she did, her cum dripping down your hand again. Fuck, you were spent.

You two slumped against each other for a moment, breaths fast-paced as you two panted and basked in the aftershocks. Before you could fully relax, Regina lifted your chin to look at her; her eyelids were drooped—she was exhausted. She carefully pulled her fingers out of you and put them to your lips, smearing your slick against them until you took her digits into your mouth and sucked your juices off of them. You moaned softly and did the same for her, pulling your fingers out of each other's mouths once they were clean. Fuck. Did any of that really just happen?

You didn't care. You took Regina's hand and guided her to the bed, tugging her down to lay beside you. Her arms wrapped around your waist and she snuggled up against you, burying her face in the crook of her neck. Neither of you said anything; you just dozed off.

When you woke up, it was way later than you intended—it was literally nighttime. You turned to see Regina stirring awake, her emerald eyes slowly fluttering open to look at you—you giggled softly. "How long have you been watching me, creep?" She scoffed, running a hand through her messy hair. "Not long, unfortunately," You pouted, to which Regina playfully rolled her eyes. "Whatever, baby."

The room fell silent again, the darkness securing your bubble of warmth. She looked at the window, blinking in surprise. "Have we really been asleep that long?" "Yeah, I guess so."

You sighed, scratching your shoulder. "That was amazing," You hummed, rolling over and facing her. She moved a hand to rest on your side, her smile soft and warm. "Tell me about it—I still owe you more from how hard you made me cum earlier," She giggled. You rolled your eyes, "You're insane."

"And you love it."

You two laid in silence for a moment before it dawned on you—you probably had to go, now. All of that, just for it to be over.

You rolled off of the bed and gathered your clothes, and you heard the sheets ruffle beside you. "What are you doing?" Regina asked in confusion, her brows knitted. You swallowed, turning to her. "I've been here a while—I'm sure you want the house to yourself," You hummed, though it hurt more to say it; it made it more real.

"I never said that, though," She hummed. "You don't have to go."

"No, don't feel pressured, Gigi. I understand if you don't wan—"

"I do," She cut you off pointedly, crawling over to the edge of the bed and holding your hand. "Stay, please."

You swallowed and looked back at her, feeling a warmth blossom in your chest. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been surer," She whined, gently tugging at your arm.

You nodded and dropped your things in a pile, crawling back into bed with her. Her arms found your waist again and tugged you close to her, her face buried in your neck and taking in your scent.

"I missed you."

"I missed you, too, Gina."

You two forgot the fact that the cameras were still rolling.

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