#gray haired beast

[monpalace]

shoutout to me for accidentally making my miraculous oc's miraculous beast match her hair and to 7-11 year old me for making my oc's hair orange

[yourlocallunatic]

My King in the North

Cregan Stark x fem Velaryon!reader 18+

Summary: You fly with your brother to meet with the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North to ally your families in the height of the Dance of Dragons. In exchange for soldiers, your mother has offered up you—her eldest daughter.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, smut, piv sex, oral sex (fem receiving) canonical Stark breeding kink (seriously, hardcore breeding kink). HoTD tragedies (character deaths)

wordcount: 8.2k

The wind grew sharper the further North you flew, snow started to cling to your hair and lashes, encasing you in the cold. On the back of your dragon, you tried your best to curl into yourself to keep warm. The rain you saw from time to time on Dragonstone was cold, but not like this. You could feel the fierce power of the North in the gusts of the wind and it made you feel something, something more than you felt anywhere in the South.

You approached Winterfell, the rolling green hills and the thick forest surrounding it. The sky was gray and a light snow covered the cobblestone streets and the tops of the tower. It seemed dull, but there was a distinguished charm to the place. You and your brother landed your dragons near the front gates, and the guards standing watch shuffled stiffly on their feet–eyes growing wide at the sheer size of the beasts. The gates opened and a man walked at the front, he was broad and burly, his long hair was pulled half-back and a large sword was slung across his back. This was the Lord of Winterfell. Your betrothed.

“Winterfell welcomes you, my friends,” his voice shook with a deep Northern accent, his arms were outstretched with a gesture of welcome.

“Thank you, my Lord. Our mother–her Grace–thanks you for seeing us,” Jacearys spoke approaching Lord Stark. You stayed back a bit, letting your brother do the talking for now.

“Please, please, come in. We have a feast prepared, you shall sit at the high table with myself,” He patted Jace on the back hard, your brother letting out a cough at the impact. The Northerners were clearly not very concerned with the prim-and-proper treatment of royals. It was refreshing. You set your dragon away, leaving her to fly and explore, knowing she would return. You follow your brother, guards following you on either side—Lord Starks welcoming behavior did not reflect that of the guards he enforced. You knew it was risky of him to trust you, and he showed you that with the guards that stood by him and the sword that lay on his back. He was smart.

Warmth enveloped you as you entered the halls, every patron of the court stood and bowed as you all entered. They did not bow at you and your brother, however, but to the Warden. You’d heard of Northern stubbornness and now you were seeing it in full effect. They did not like outsiders and you saw that as they sent occasional glares to you. Lord Stark took a seat at the high table, you and Jace sitting on either side of him, though you protested to sit next to your brother.

"Please, be seated," Lord Stark's voice boomed throughout the hall, "I thank you all for welcoming the children of The Queen, the Prince, and Princess shall remain with us for a stay, I ask you all to extend your arms to them. Now eat your fill! Winter is coming," he spoke with such a high level of authority but it was so evident in the way his people listened attentively that they all respected him. And the mere fact that he had called Rhaenyra the Queen already struck something in the minds of his people.

You still did not speak, eating quietly as you listened to the conversations around you. Jace and Lord Stark spoke to each other, you could tell a bond was forming, the two seemed very alike already. Two young Lords, they knew power at such a small age. You watched the Warden from the corner of your eye, the way he spoke with Jacearys was firm, but not unfriendly, he knew what you and your brother came here to ask and he was setting his boundaries early–the type of move a king would make. Studying his face you noticed more and more, that his brow line was firm, and his eyes a steel grey, he was very much a Stark by all the accounts you'd read. He had a small scar running along the side of his cheek, one you couldn't help but wonder what it came from.

"Tell me, Princess," you turn your head to the young woman sitting beside you, a bit younger than yourself you guessed, "you came here with the intent of staying in the North, did you not?"

"Pardon me, Lady–?" you asked. Finally speaking.

"Just Sara, your Grace. You intend to marry my brother?" this was the Lord of Winterfell's sister, you recalled–a bastard–thinking back to your books on the North. Evidently, he was very committed to his family, considering he would let a bastard sit at the high table with him; let alone sit in the hall altogether.  

"The Queen's intention, yes," you bite back, still bitter at your mother for so easily sending you away for the sake of her crown.

"So you do not intend to?" the girl asked, genuine curiosity laced in her voice.

"No-well, yes..." You stutter, before taking a deep breath, "I do what the Queen asks of me."

"Do not fret, Princess, you will be well taken care of here," she sets a warm hand on your arm and gives you a soft smile, doing her best to calm you in your distressed state. "My brother may be a formidable warrior and leader, but don't let him fool you, he cares very much for those around him. Especially one so beautiful as you."

"Thank you, Sara. I apologize, I fear I've gotten caught up in my worries, leaving my family so suddenly, not even knowing if Lord Stark will accept the proposed betrothal. I have a lot on my mind." you laugh nervously, pushing your food around your plate with your fork (very un-ladylike your septa would tell you).

"You needn't say sorry, Princess," the girl was sweet, and you could tell it was genuine, hopefully, she'd be a fast friend. "And trust me, he will accept the proposal," she whispered to you sneakily.

"And how do you know that? Surely he has better offers," you combat, keeping your voice low as well, Lord Stark barely a foot away from you.

"My brother is smart. He plans to take your brother to the wall and discuss terms, leaving you here to put your impression on the people. He wouldn't have accepted the two of you here without learning more about you first, he knows the good you've done for the realm even as a young Lady. No matter the Queen's standings, he knows he would have someone good by his side. Someone the North could accept." there was something larger at play here you could tell, larger than both yourself and Lord Stark, larger than your mother and Aegon's petty argument. This was about the whole of the North.

"Moreover, my brother is a man, and no man could say no to a pretty woman with a dragon who could give him little dragon babies," she giggles, eliciting a laugh from you as well, "no man is smart enough for that." a louder laugh leaves your mouth from her comment, you cover your mouth with your hand, trying your best to be proper.

"Seems we already have two new friends!" Jacaerys voice interrupting your laughter, "Haven't heard her laugh in years, nose always stuck in a book." your brother teases making you roll your eyes. Lord Stark turns his body to face you, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Just as I hoped," he moved his gaze to his sister, his smile grew larger, and you could tell he was grateful for her warm demeanor. "Princess, would you care for a walk?" his eyes were still on his sister but he moved them quickly to you. You turn to Sara, and she gives you a smirk and a small nod, gently pushing your shoulder to go with the Warden.

"Y-yes, my Lord, it would please me greatly," you stand and bow your head. He extends his arm and you hold onto it politely. Even through the thickness of his tunic and cloak, you could feel how strong he was–and it made you blush.

The two of you didn't speak to one another as you walked the streets of Winterfell, he would stop occasionally to greet people though, goodness coming through his rough demeanor. You came to the godswood and walked through, the noise from the streets gone replaced with the whistling of the wind and the quieting chirps of birds as night fell.

"I spoke with your brother," his thick voice filled the silence, "but I wished to speak with you as well before we continue with our terms." He stopped walking and turned to face you, not letting go of your arm.

"Of course, Lord Stark," his lips turn up slightly on one side at your formality.

"As the Queen's terms stated, you need aid from the North, and in exchange, she will give me your hand in marriage. Is this what you wish?" He seemed concerned, more so than he should be.

"Of course, my Lord, whatever my Queen wishes of me." You bow your head to him in submission. Would he be a rough lover? You wondered. Everyone told tales of how brutal of a ruler he could be, how brutal a fighter. Would he be brutal with you? Only see to you to stick an heir in your womb?

"Is that what you wish, Princess?" his arm held yours tighter, a sense of urgency in his tone. "I know of your family, I know that marriage is a duty, it is here in the North too. But in the North, we believe there is also passion in marriage and love. I do not want you to subject yourself to this if you think I am only here to rule you."

"I-I wish for a happy life," you close your eyes, for the first time in your life speaking your truth plainly, "I wish for my family to be safe, children to care for, land for my dragon to fly in peace..." you trail off, his sister may have been right, he may care for those around him, but he was also dangerous to those he did not. Now all you could hope was that there was something he cared about in you.

"Then you shall have it," he spoke with the authority of a king. "I've heard of what you've done in Dragonstone and even King's Landing for your kinsman's people. I wish to have you by my side, not just to wife, but to show the North there is good still left, and we have her fighting for us."

"Thank you, for accepting the proposal, Lord Stark, it would be an honor to serve the North."

"Thank you, Princess," those steely eyes stared straight into yours and you believed him with every part of you. "I will take your brother further North to the wall to discuss the rest of our terms, when I return we shall be wed within a fortnight. Will you be alright here?"

"Yes, my Lord," you smile at him. Duty and passion he had said. You simply couldn't wait for his return, dying to see what his passion felt like.

You made your way back to the hall together, taking your seats again. They would leave at dawn he told you flying on dragon-back. You tried to get him to fly your dragon instead of going with Jace, but he insisted she stay here while he couldn't be here to protect you.

"Ever proud Northmen are," Sara whispered to you, "that dragon could protect an army," you giggle at her joke, glad you would have her here to keep you company the next coming days.

The next days you had hardly a moment's rest, busying yourself with learning more and more of the North's history within the Keep's library. At one point Sara held a lunch for you and some Ladies of the Court. "It will make a good impression." she'd told you. So you put on a smile and listened to the gossip that ensued. It took a moment for the Ladies to warm to you but once Sara revealed that Lord Stark was to have your hand in marriage they flurried into excitement, one of them even offering to sew together your wedding dress at once. You smiled, the North was a cold place, but it was clear that there was a warmth to be found in the community.

"My husband hasn't bed me in years," one of the ladies had said, several of them chiming in saying their husbands did the same, "what I'd give for one of those Stark men, I hear they bed you every night to ensure a babe takes..."

"I hear they know everything of a woman's pleasure, Lord Stark should surely pass a law to all our husbands to do the same."

"My maid saw him bathing once…told me he's got the largest member she's ever seen."

The words flew around you, the women all laughing and giving you jealous looks. Your face grew red at the thought of him bedding you, giving you all the children you could hope for. As wonderful as the welcome of these women was, it was also highly unusual for women in the South to talk about such things with one another, clearly another difference you'd have to grow accustomed to.

"Alright ladies, I'm sure the Princess would appreciate some respite on the wedding talk, as would I with hearing about my brother's cock," Sara spoke loudly, a teasing tone in her voice, but everyone listened nonetheless. She excused the two of you and led you outside for some fresh air. You wrapped the new fur cloak you were given tighter around yourself, still growing used to the cold.

You walked together for a bit before you heard the familiar screech of Vermax in the air. They weren't supposed to return for a few more days...perhaps they had come to an early agreement. You quicken your pace to the front gate, arriving just as your brother and Lord Stark entered.

"How was riding on dragon-back, Lord Stark?" you tease, walking to greet the two of them. But he didn't respond. He walked close to you, a solemn look in his eyes. Something had happened, what happened? He puts a cold hand on your shoulder, casting his gaze downward. "Is everything alright, my Lord?" your voice began to shake. He looks you in the eye once again before walking away. Had the engagement broken off? You wonder, your heart dropping slightly at the thought. Jacaerys didn't move from where he stood a few feet in front of you. His face was blank, void of any emotion trying to break through. "Jace...what's happened, am I to return home now?" he did not answer. You walked to him, grabbing his face in your hands to make him meet your gaze, "Jace, answer me. What's happened?" your voice firm, tears beginning to grow in your eyes from anger as he still said nothing. "Jacaerys!" you shout, and that's when you see it, a crumpled piece of parchment clutched in his hand. The broken seal was that of your mothers, she's sent a raven. Why? You grab the message from him and hastily unfold it, doing your best to make out the tear-stained ink.

No. No. It couldn't be real. Your brother. Your baby brother. The boy too brave for his own good. Lucaerys...

"This isn't real, it can't be..." your chest was tight and your vision began to blur, you looked around you, trying to find someone to give you answers, Jacaerys still mute. You stumbled blindly as your body began to wrack with gasping breaths, you ran into a solid body, grasping on to whoever it was and not letting go.

"Come, Princess, let's get you to your chambers," the deep Northern accent resonated from above you.

"No, my-my, no my baby brother..." your voice barely coherent, "my baby brother..."

"I know, I know, Princess, walk with me," Lord Stark did his best to keep his grasp on you, but to no avail.

"He was a child!" you screamed, pushing yourself away from him. "An innocent boy!" Your body began to tumble backward but Jace was right behind you, standing to hold you upright, his own eyes now leaking tears, trying as he might to keep a brave face. You struggle between the two men as they try to drag you back to the keep. You couldn't breathe, the air inside was suffocating. You threw open the window in your chambers sucking in a deep breath before collapsing to the ground.

You didn't know how many hours had passed, you cried until your tears ran dry and screamed until your lungs gave out. Your wails echoed through the halls. Now you sat beneath the open window, the cold air seeping into your bones as the fire in your chambers died down. War would break out soon over something so trivial. Your family had always been teetering on killing each other and you hated it. It wasn't just Aemond that killed Lucaerys, it was every single one of the Targaryens.

There was a soft knock at your door but you did not acknowledge. Not that it mattered, shortly after the knock the door opened and your brother entered. He shut the door behind him before making his way over to you and sliding down the wall to sit next to you.

"We will leave at dawn," he spoke, turning his head to face you.

"We? Jacaerys, I cannot go back there. This has gone on far too long, since the moment Aegon was born, I am finished being a part of this game of thrones," your voice was broken from the crying and screaming, and it was broken from the pain.

"Mother will want you safe, with her," he combated.

"Safe? I'm safe here Jace, away from the fighting, the safest I've been all my life. The engagement is set now and you have made your terms, my duty is to the North now, and to the North, it will stay," you spoke exasperatedly. You stood from your spot on the ground and made to tend the fire again, "Has Lord Stark given you adequate resources?" you question, trying to change the subject.

"2,000 of his older fighting men, greybeards, he calls them."

"Good, then you will take your leave at dawn. Tell mother I love her, but she cannot send me away only to try and take me back as soon as she loses a child," he nodded at you sadly, tears in his eyes, he was losing his sister too now. "Come here, I'm sorry, but this is what she wanted." You move to him and wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly to you.

"At least let me stay for the wedding," he mumbled into your shoulder.

"You mustn't waste more time, avenge Luke for me, he was the best of us."

"I will. I promise," he told you, right as there was another knock at your door. You clear your hoarse throat, trying to sound the lady you were.

"Enter," yes you tried, but your voice still shook.

"My Prince, Princess," Lord Stark enters the room, giving you each polite nod.

"Please, Cregan, you needn't use formalities, I'm to be your brother soon after all," Jacaerys spoke up, trying his best to lighten the mood. Cregan gave him a smile before he continued speaking.

"Of course, that is what I came to ask. As you are leaving at dawn, I thought you may want to be here for your sister's wedding," his gaze turned to you, almost questioning. "I've had arrangements made and was curious to if the Princess would like for the ceremony to take place tonight?" you tried to interrupt, not sure if you could handle the festivities after such a loss you've endured, but he quickly cut you off before you could say anything, "It would be small, only us and a priest, we will have a feast to celebrate whenever you're ready, Princess." your brows turned down and adoration flooded you, he looked at you steadily for a response.

"Thank you, my Lord, I would love to have my brother here, your thought is much appreciated."

"Thank you, Cregan," Jace extended his hand to give him a firm handshake, the two exchanging grateful looks. The ceremony would be in half an hour under the weirwood tree in the godswood, in the sight of the old gods. It was growing late so you didn't bother trying to call a maid, instead you re-braided your own hair and put on the heavy cloak and thick wool dress you were gifted when you arrived in Winterfell, you looked positively Northern.

Jacaerys took your arm and walked you down the cobbled streets to the godswood, where Lord Stark would be waiting. You hadn't had much time to process everything, still so caught in Luke's passing, but you did know that as Sara once said, you would be well taken care of in Winterfell. It was a clear night, the moon and stars illuminated the path through the trees to where your soon-to-be husband stood. He looked regal standing there, the spitting image of a king. Your brother kissed your forehead before handing you over to Lord Stark. Your mind was foggy. I am his and he is mine. The only words that mattered, and the only ones you would remember.

Your goodbyes to Jace were tearful. He couldn't wait until dawn to leave so he mounted his dragon and left, you knew it was because up there, so high in the clouds he could cry, he didn't have to be a prince.

You walked back to your chambers, Lord Stark escorting you. You weren't sure if you could do this, he would want to consummate you were positive of it, but after the day you'd had...you couldn't muster your strength. You came to your door and waited for him to enter before you shut the door behind you, you stood there, not certain if you should wait for him or just get it over with. You turned and watched as he removed his cloak before adding another log to the fire. Get it over with. You told yourself, removing your own cloak and boots before starting on the strings of your dress.

"What are you doing, Princess?" He looked at you, confused, walking over to you quickly and pulling your dress back on your shoulders.

"This is my duty, Lord Stark," you said tearfully. He gave a slight laugh before taking your face in his hands, making you look him in the eye.

"No, no, not tonight, I only came to tend your fire, it's been a long day for you, I will never expect anything of you." you wrapped your arms around him suddenly, aching to be held. And that he did, one arm was around your shoulders and the other cradled the back of your head pulling you close.

"Thank you, again, my Lord," you mumbled into his chest. He pushed you away, and a teasing smile played on his face.

"Never mind, I will expect one thing of you, and that is to call me by my name, no more 'My Lords' or 'Lord Stark'. You are my wife."

"Then thank you, Cregan, for treating me so very well," you smiled at him, "no more 'princess' either, I am no longer one after all," you spoke back. The smile on your face turns down.

"Very well, I will leave you to rest then," he spoke your name as he pressed a kiss to your cheek and made his way to the door. You didn't want him to leave. He was yours now, you wanted him with you, to protect you and care for you in your hours of sorrow.

"Cregan," you called out softly, your dress now slipping off your shoulders again. He turned back, a hopeful look in his eye, "Stay with me?" he said nothing as he walked back to you, ridding himself of the cloak he held before removing his boots, you continued with the strings of your dress, trying your best to reach behind your back when you suddenly felt warm fingers entangled with yours and he continued your work. You were left in a linen slip, standing close to the fire to keep yourself warm. You watched as he unbuckled his belt and removed his doublet, he walked slowly to one side of the bed and placed his formidable sword next to the bed. He held back the fur coverings and nodded to you, motioning you to climb in the bed. Your steps were slow and cautious, but you trusted him. You moved beneath the furs, instantly feeling much warmer, your body heated even more when Cregan moved in next to you holding out his arm so you could fall into his body. It felt right, you were warm, you were safe, you were cared for. Your head lay across his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as you fell asleep.

"Always, dear wife," he spoke into the silence of the night where he soon fell asleep with you to the dying embers on the hearth.

_________________

You spent your days the next few weeks trying to take hold of your grief, you did your best, keeping your head buried in books to distract yourself. Cregan would take you with him to various meetings and suppers, you were thankful for the distraction and you slowly drew closer to him. You continued on with your arrangement, he would see to your chambers in the evening, tend the fire, and climb into the bed with you, stroking your hair till you slept. But with that, you grew more and more frustrated, his closeness began to stir something in you, a deep longing. You woke one night with the space beside you empty, you sat up in the bed hastily calling out his name. He was standing at the window staring into the darkness of the night, he had taken his tunic off, something he hadn't done in front of you yet, and his back was stiff and muscular from years of training. His arms–now bare–you could see exactly how strong he was, a force to be reckoned with. He hadn't heard you call his name so you slowly slid out of the bed, tugging on the silk robe one of your ladies' maids had embroidered for you, direwolves wrapping around your neck, and snowflakes falling down the sleeves. You walked to where Cregan stood, standing close to him and peering out the window along with him. The wolves were howling in the night causing a chill to run through you, you still couldn't tell what their cries meant, were they mourning with you? Were they angry? Hungry?

"It's said the blood of the first men runs through your veins, that I believe," you spoke into the night. "there's also a folk tale that says the Stark men who have that blood can turn to direwolves when they wish, that... I'm still not sure of." Cregan smiles at the sound of your sleepy voice.

"You've been reading," he states, looking to meet your eyes.

"Yes, I like learning about your people, and your library is always kept so warm," you giggle, thinking of the cozy days you've spent in there.

"I wish that tale were true...it would make ruling so much easier, I wouldn't have to go to meetings anymore, I could intimidate people without having to use my sword, protect my people better..." he sounded hopeful as if he believed he still had a chance for the tale to come true.

"You are a good ruler, you would make a splendid King," you told him, grabbing his hand to hold within yours, despite the cold of the night you could feel his blood still running hot.

"A King?" he questioned, never more than just the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.

"Your people were kings for thousands of years, my ancestors took that away from you so they could unite and rule a monarchy," you say, speaking of all the books you've been reading, "In my eyes, you are still the King in the North, and the North remembers, your people remember."

"What you speak is treason, treason to your mother the Queen, and your family!" A man of honor. He pledged himself to the Queen, he would not back out of his oath, even if this is what the North had for thousands of years.

"Perhaps, but my duty is here now. We will let them fight amongst themselves as we prepare for something bigger...your kin, and mine," you give him a look of urgency. "My mother told me of the Prince who was Promised. The Song of Ice and Fire. The book I've seen sitting on your desk..." he knows what is to happen, every Stark Lord is told and does well to abide by it. Cregan was shocked to know you had knowledge of it, and even more shocked that you would put aside your family and call yourself a traitor all for a prophecy.

"My wife..." he trails, worried that this would grow into something far out of his reach.

"Your oath to the prophecy proceeds that of your oath to my mother. We will not betray her, but we must survive for the whole of the realm," you're holding both his hands now, looking at him desperately. He knows this is true.

"We will survive," he states, agreeing with you. "but I will not be the king."

"You will be my King," your eyes draw closed as you sink to your knees. "I have wed myself to you, now I pledge myself to you, I know no King, but the King in the North, whose name is Stark." His eyes fill with adoration as he looks down at you, soon following suit to kneel with you on the ground.

"Then you will be my Queen," his words ring clear and true as he rests his forehead against yours, drawing you close to him. "come to bed with me, our celebration feast is tomorrow, and you need your rest." He stands and extends his hand to help you up and doesn't let go once you are standing as well. He leads you to the bed letting you get yourself comfortable before laying beside you, your faces mere inches away as you stare into one another's eyes.

"Cregan," you whisper, your eyes flitting down to look at his lips, his mouth was slightly open and he spoke your name back to you, "Please kiss me." he wasted not a second, moving those few inches to connect your lips, he was warm all over, the pure fire that warmed the North, his lips were dry and slightly cracked but they were full and consumed you whole. He pulled away before anything went too far and a giggle left your mouth as you looked at his reddened face. He smiled at you before placing another kiss on your forehead and pulling you close. You both fell asleep fast, holding each other until the sun rose.

The next day was a flurry of commotion to prepare for the feast. The lady from the lunch you'd had with Sara (who you now learned was Lady Umber, wife of Lord Umber) insisted you wore the dress she had sewn for your wedding ceremony, claiming you had to wear it to the feast if the ceremony had already happened. You complied for the dress was stunning, thick and woolen, a real northern dress lined with white furs and embroidered with the direwolf sigil. Foods were rushed into the great hall as garlands were hung on the hearths. One of your ladies was finishing braiding your hair in a northern fashion like you'd insisted when there was a knock at your door.

"My Lord," your lady bowed before finishing the braid and swiftly exiting to leave the two of you alone.

"You look beautiful," Cregan said softly as he made his way over to you, he grabbed a piece of your silver hair between his fingers and twirled it, "I do hope our children take after their mother." he teased, letting go of your hair in favor of taking your hand to place a kiss on your knuckle.

"I hope they take after their father," you tease back, "true little wolves they'd be," he smiled brightly at you, but behind his eyes, there was a darkness, a yearning, one that you knew for certain he had been holding back for weeks.

"Let's be on our way then, the people are waiting for the new Lady of Winterfell," even though the two of you were wed already, it still didn't feel real thinking that you were to be the new Lady of Winterfell. You'd done your best in your mourning of Lucaerys to try and connect with the people, all you could hope is that they would accept you now.

The feast was in full swing when you arrived, shouts and songs echoed in the hall but all grew silent as you and Cregan entered, making your way to the head table. You reached the front and turned to face the people, hand in hand.

"Thank you all for welcoming our new Lady of Winterfell!" Cregan shouted over the masses, and a roar of cheers erupted. "You will do well to remember our new allegiance to the Queen Rheanyra and keep your honor. These past weeks as you've welcomed our new Lady of Winterfell you may know that she has lost a brother to the usurper of the Iron Throne, we will keep in the North for our duties, but if war reaches us, think of the Prince Lucaerys and his sister, the North remembers!" more shouts echo in the halls as tears fill your eyes at the mention of your brother.

"Now, this is a celebration of our marriage, please, celebrate!" the halls resume their shouts and songs as Cregan leads you to your seat beside him, your glasses immediately being filled to the brim with wine. You make eye contact with your husband, giving him a grateful look, a silent thank you. He gives your hand a squeeze in acknowledgment.

As the celebrating continues Lords and Ladies of the surrounding Northern lands flood to your table, gifting you with all sorts of words and treasures–mostly it was the ladies sneakily whispering if you'd been bred proper yet–to which your response was a deep blush before sending them away. You do your best to match the names of those you read about to the faces you saw. Currently speaking to you were the Lord and Lady Mormont of Bear Island, more so the Lord Mormont and Cregan discussing recent wildling attacks further North. You and Lady Mormont faced each other in an awkward silence, Sara beside you at the high table waiting for the conversation to start.

"So... Lady Stark can we hope for some wolf pups soon, maybe even an heir to Winterfell?" of all the things she chose to speak about...

"Oh um...yes, I suppose..." You try to smile along. Sara beside you stifling a laugh

"Surprised you aren't already, those Stark men are something fierce," she continues.

"What are we speaking of now wife?" Lord Mormont chimes in. Oh no. He was a burly man, one of honor and tradition...

"Oh I was just asking the Lady Stark when we should expect a babe," she laughs, linking her arm with her husbands.

"She's not yet?" Mormont sounds exasperated, "You may be my Lord, Stark, but come on lad! You should be fucking her till your seed takes, surely it's been too long now!" your face grows redder than it was already, an uneasy look on your face, this had gone too far. Cregan could see the look on your face and immediately took control.

"That'll be enough, Mormont," his voice went lower in pitch as he reminded Lord Mormont of his place. "I think it's high time we all retired, I will send a raven when I need to speak to you, no sooner will I hear from you." Lord Mormont looked down in shame, put in his rightful place.

"Yes, My Lord, My Lady," a single bow and he and his wife were on their way, the rest of the people in the hall filling out shortly after hearing the altercation. Cregan stood and took your hand again, walking you to your chambers at a fast pace, one you could hardly keep up with. Once in the room, he slammed the door shut before throwing down his cloak and rubbing his forehead in annoyance.

"I'm so sorry, I should've warned you people in the North are very attached to customs–" you cut him off.

"When will you bed me?" you asked, genuinely confused.

"I-I believed you wanted to wait longer..." He trails off, slightly taken aback by your question.

"I'm tired of laying next to you in bed growing more and more desperate each night," you spoke your truth and saw his back straighten, eyes darkening as he walked closer to you, almost stalking you like prey, "I cannot say how many Ladies tonight asked me if you'd put a babe in me yet."

He loomed closer to you, "And what did you tell them..." the hairs on your neck stood at the deepness of his voice.

"I-I didn't say anything," you respond, head hanging down. He lifts your chin to meet his gaze.

"But what did you want to tell them?"

"That you'd fill me every night till a babe took." your voice grew confident, he was giving you the sense that this was something he deeply, deeply, desired.

"Would you like to do that?" his hand cradled your face now, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Your breath hitches in your throat, and thoughts flood your mind about what he would be like, he was a strong man, but he was gentle with you, would he be desperate enough to take you hard?

"Give me a babe, Cregan," it was over. All sense of self-control that he held was now burning in the fire. The hand that was on your face moved to the back of your head, tugging you to meet his lips, he devoured you. It wasn't like the gentle kiss he gave you last night, it was depraved, his tongue wrapped around yours, teeth clashing together with an uncontrolled hunger. His mouth began to move down your neck and you felt him nip at you, soothing over the spot with his tongue. He began to walk backward towards the bed, still holding your body close. Your hands grew restless, grabbing onto him anywhere that you could, you soon found them tangled in his hair, tugging slightly.

His hands were roaming your body now, he was restraining himself from ripping your dress right off of you, but he knew it would make you sad, what a pretty dress. He moved his hands back, beginning to undo the buckles on his doublet, you broke away from his kiss for a moment and leaned down to remove your boots. It was all a flurry of motion as the two of you hastily began to undress yourselves, at this point, he was left in only his trousers and you in your shift and corset. You made eye contact for a moment the both of you smiling giddily. He raised his hands and started on the laces on the back of your corset, his arms were wrapped around you, your face staring straight at his chest where you grew bold and started to press kisses across the expanse. The corset–now loosened–fell from your body, Cregan could see the hardness of your nipples through the thin slip dress and proceeded to cup your breasts in his hands, tweaking the hardened peaks through the fabric. Slowly–so slowly you hadn't even noticed at first–he sank to his knees in front of you, when he reached the ground his hands started running up and down your legs caressing you while moving the shift upwards. He took one hand and placed it on the center of your belly, pushing, and in one motion you lay back on the bed, your husband still on his knees in front of you. he continued to move the dress up until it hung around your waist, you sat up on your elbows and looked down at him nervously, your center now fully exposed to him.

"Do not worry, sweet wife, I want to make you feel good," you nodded at him as he drew closer to you, his hands slowly dragging up your thighs, his thumbs rubbing the insides gently, growing closer and closer to your heat. He spread your legs further apart, looking at you once more before taking a finger and running it through your slick. You moaned out a curse and fell back onto the bed, the furs around you enveloping you in warmth. Cregan carries on running his fingers through your sex, they would barely dip inside of you before he moved them back up to circle your clit, causing a teasing repetition.

"Please, Cregan, I need more," you beg.

"More? You really have been needy," he teases, his other hand moving underneath you to squeeze your behind, "Alright, then, whatever my wife wants, she shall get." You were waiting for him to move, to get up and remove his trousers so he could fuck you. But no, his warm mouth licked a stripe up your slit and followed the same motions his fingers did, never staying in one place long enough. You cried out again, moving your hands down to tangle in his hair again. He teased you a little longer before his mouth kept place on your pulsing bud, alternating between sucking and licking at you. It was heavenly, you'd never been touched like this by a man, he was pouring all his adoration into you. And as good as it did feel, you still needed more, you felt nothing would satiate you until you were dripping with his seed.

"I-I want you to fuck me now," you barely breathe out between heavy breaths, he moves his head away from your core after pressing one last kiss to your clit. A smirk grew on his face, loving the way you were practically begging for his cock. He moved agonizingly slow, standing to his feet and staring down at where you lay on the bed. He refused to move his gaze away from you as he began untying the strings on his trousers, "please..." you breathe out in a breath of desperation. His trousers fell to the ground and you move your eyes to his center where his cock hung heavy, tip red and leaking, aching for your wetness to swallow him whole.

"You want me to fill you up now?" you nodded eagerly, itching to feel his body on top of you. He lifts you by the waist pushing your body up the bed like you weigh nothing, he removes your shift entirely now, pulling it swiftly over your head. "Tell me if you need to stop, alright? His tone shifted into seriousness. You breathe a yes in response. His body moves to hover over you and his head dips down to press gentle kisses against your chest, trailing down to lick at your nipples. You feel one of his hands reach between your bodies before the blunt head of his member runs through your slick. You grab onto his upper arms, steadying yourself as you prepare for him to push into you, he goes torturously slow and you grip onto him harder, a silent way of begging him to take you already. The stretch hurts a bit, not as bad as everyone had told you but the wetness surely helped dull some of the pain. He groans as he seats himself in you fully, not moving, you rock your hips into him trying to create some friction.

"Cregan, please, it feels so good, just take me already!" he lets out a breathless laugh at your restlessness, his mouth open and panting. He pulls out in one motion before thrusting into you again. And again. And again. This is what you had wanted, for this fierce warrior to lose himself in you fulfilling a yearning desire to fill you up completely. Your moans ring against the walls and you do your best to hold yourself together before you utterly fall apart. The bed creaks as he rocks into you, his pace growing quicker and quicker.

"Fuck!" Cregan grunts out through clenched teeth. The sight above you is heavenly, strands of his dark hair frame his face, some sticking slightly where a sweat begins to sheen on his brow. His jaw was tight, and his body was stiff, a deep concentration in his features. Then, in one sudden movement, he pulls himself out of you to flip you onto your front, yanking your hips up before plunging deep inside you again. The pleasure from this angle was insurmountable, the head of his cock hit the back of your tight walls repeatedly, fucking straight into your womb. You prayed for a brief moment, begging whatever gods were listening that his seed would take and you would soon have pups to take care of. His hands gripped your hips tight, surely there would be bruises tomorrow and surely he would feel horrible about it, but you cared not. The rawness of his passion would remain on your body. A subtle heat grew in your belly and it became warmer and warmer.

"Cregan, I-I think something is happening," you mutter from where your face was squished into the furs on the bed. He groaned out another curse before speaking again.

"Let go, let go for me," his voice still strained in pleasure, "I'm gonna fill you up now, and every. Single. Night. Until it takes," his thrusts annunciating his speech. The coil in your belly grew tighter until it finally snapped and you moaned out blissfully. His thrusts didn't stop and you grew more and more sensitive, but he did not last much longer after you, cursing out one final time before emptying himself right against your cervix.

When he pulled out of you, you could feel his expense steadily beginning to drip out of you, but his fingers soon found your center again, scooping it up before pushing it back inside of you. And if that wasn't the most arousing thing ever...

"Can't have you wasting any of that, can we?" he wipes his fingers off on the bed and climbs in under the furs, beckoning you to come lay with him. You crawl to him and fall into him unceremoniously. His arms pull you in close and hold you tight and his lips fall down to press a kiss to the top of your head. There was a smile on your face, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to stop smiling. You shift your head and turn to look him in the eye, only to find he is already looking at you, his own smile shining down at you.

"Even after a babe takes..." you begin and his eyes sparkle in the dim lighting of the chambers, "can we still do that?" his smile grows wider and he huffs out a small laugh.

"Of course! I don't know if I would be able to keep myself off of you knowing that you are carrying our child, you'll be the most beautiful mother." he lifts a hand to stroke your hair, the same way he's done the nights you've shared the past few weeks.

"Well, then I hope we'll have a little prince or princess on the way soon," his brow furrows in confusion at the titles and he asks a silent question with his eyes, "You are a king after all! Our babes will be royalty."

"I've told you, I'm no king," his eyes held back a sadness.

"As I have told you, dear husband, you are my king," it was your turn to hold his face in your hands, the stubble on his cheeks scratching against your palms, "I will know no other." he leaned down to press his forehead against yours and you sat together in the quiet of the night, with only the company of each other until you fell asleep. A sleep where you dreamed of a family with him, boys running through the godswood being chased playfully by their father, a young girl sitting upon your lap as you flew your dragon over the forests of the vast Northlands. The lands where your husband would be your king.

[chaotic-mystery]

Consider It a Favor || J.M.

Summary: Your AC breaks in your car and the one person around to help is your neighbor, Mr.Miller. (No outbreak!Joel miller x f!reader)

Content Warnings: 18+ as always, MDNI. Age gap (Not specified but I put Sarah in college) DILF Joel mowing his lawn, reader is able-bodied and is wearing a swim suit/coverup, reader has hair Joel can pull, kissing, swearing, (1) blowjob, size kink go brrr, pet names (good girl, sweetheart, baby) facedown ass up, babey, a little manhandling, unprotected penetration (don't look at me okay, the whore in me jumped out), dirty talk, Joel hyping up his ego, pussy ownership, creampie, a little glimpse of aftercare and what really happened to your AC.

Authors Note: This is my own submission for Summer Lovin' 24! We had a blast making this and I will def do another in the future. Ali, you are an absolute beast for making all of these moodboards, thank you bby. As always, go check out everyone else's submissions, Ali's been on top of it with the masterlist so you can find them all in one place over at @pedgito🖤 (Also are we surprised I'm posting this late? No)

|| wc: 3.4k || Dividers by me || Masterlist ||

There he was again, Mr.Miller in the front of his house mowing away at the barley grown grass with nothing but gray shorts on and his shoes, the sweat glistening in the sun over his shoulders. You knew it was wrong to look at your neighbor like this but how could you help yourself when he was so irresistible?

He didn’t have a problem with you staring either, he never told you to stop or that it made him feel weird. Having the attention of a woman made him feel good, especially when she was younger than him. It let him know he still had it in him.

“Hi Mr.Miller!” You try shouting over the roaring lawn mower but it was no use. He keeps walking up and down near the sidewalk, making sure he doesn’t miss an inch. If you didn’t get going now, you were never going to make the beach party you got invited to earlier. Making your way down the stairs of your wooden deck and sneaking glances at him every few steps to your car, you smile to yourself imagining him at the beach, laying on his stomach to tan that beautiful back.

Fading back into reality, you realize he was standing in front of you  snapping and waving his fingers to get your attention. 

“How’s it goin’ sugar? Doin’ okay in this heat?” 

“O-oh! Yeah, I’m just on my way to the beach now. Grass looks really good, can I pay you to cut my dads?” You joke and point behind you to the taller grass that didn’t look so bad before Joel cut his. 

“No, c’mon don’t start that shit. Well I’ll let you get goin’. I’m fixin’ to finish this yard anyway.” 

He waves goodbye and you stand up straight to look your best for his last glance at you, something to hopefully think about when he’s finishing his grass. Flipping over the engine as soon as you get inside, you roll the windows down to let the warm air out and you blast the AC to cool down. Something felt off though, the car was making a weird sound and the air wasn’t getting cold like it usually did. Frustrated and hot, you get back out and slam the door shut, walking in front of the hood to open it. Joel notices you get out and he turns to watch you, his brows knitting together in confusion.

“Everything okay, darlin?” He wipes his hands on his shorts as he walks over to you. 

“No, my goddamn AC won’t work right and I don’t know why but I can’t drive there without it, I would actually rather eat a jean jacket.”

He laughs and shakes his head before walking over to the driver side door, climbing in to stick his hand in front of the air vent. Feeling for himself firsthand the disgustingly warm air that was hotter than satan's asshole, Joel walks back to the hood and rests his hand along the top of it, his arm stretched up over his head. 

“I can take a look at it if you want? Probably won’t make it to the beach today but I can try like hell.”

“Are you sure? I have some cash inside the house to pay you. Hold on, let me go grab it.” You sprint towards the front door of the house and pat down the pockets of your skimpy coverup for the sound of the jingling keys. “Hey Joel, do you see my house keys in my car on the seat?”

“Let me look, sweetheart.” He opens the passenger side door and glances around on the passenger seat, not a single nickel key anywhere in sight. This was perfect, just perfect. You locked yourself out and you’re stuck outside in your swimsuit under the see through cover up you just had to wear instead of wearing normal clothes like every other person ever. 

“No! No key!” He shouts from your car and gets out, shaking his head side to side in case you didn’t hear him. 

Fuck. What were you going to do now? No one else was going to be home until later tonight, window climbing was out of the question, the back screen door had a wooden pole in the track to keep people from breaking in when you weren’t using it, there were no options but to hang out with Joel. You didn’t mind, but dressed like this? What would the neighbors think considering how nosy they are and the neighbor across the street who Joel briefly had a thing with. No one knew about that but you, thank god for late night trips to sit on the roof and smoke, right? You get to hear everything when it’s quiet.

Joel shuts the hood and gets back in the driver's seat, the door latching softly behind him. His big hand grabs the back of the passenger seat headrest as he reverses out of your driveway with the other one hand on the wheel, spinning it in such a controlled way it weirdly turns you on seeing him drive like that. He pulls into his garage and shuts off the engine before tucking the keys in the sun visor. He chuckles at the key to keychain ratio you have on the worn out carabiner, the red paint scratched all over and showing the silver metal under it.

”So, turns out I locked myself out of my house…this is just great.” You scratch your forehead in frustration and sigh. If you were just paying attention to what you were doing when you were leaving you wouldn’t have locked yourself out and you wouldn’t be out here half naked with Joel. You fling the trunk open and start to look for extra clothes, anything to put on to be a little more presentable and not have the neighbors question your entire life.

The options were slim pickings. A choice between wearing a hoodie in 100 degree weather, a safety vest you swore you needed to buy the other day, and someone’s jeans that weren’t your size at all. 

“What are you doin’ back there?” 

“Looking for something to put on because I look crazy.” 

A sigh of relief washes over you as you find all the way in the corner of the trunk, an oversized gray t-shirt you didn’t even remember owning. The band printed on the front was so faded out by now you couldn’t tell who was even on it. 

Pulling the cotton fabric over your swimsuit and shimming your cover up down your legs until you’re able to step out of it, you toss it in the trunk before you slam it shut and grab a seat next to the oscillating fan he has going. The semi cool air blows your scent right in his direction and he tries to act normal about the smell of your perfume mixed with sunscreen. He yanks the short stool over to him and the wheels wobble as it rolls fast towards him and he sits down with his flashlight in his other hand, inspecting what could be the issue. The heat was starting to get to you and your head was pounding, ringing with a sharp headache. 

“Sweetheart, come hold this light for me, would you please?” 

“Y-yeah, absolutely.” 

You stand up a little too eagerly and walk over to where he was in front of the car. Joel’s hand brushes against yours as he holds out the black flashlight, his dark brown eyes glancing up at yours as soon as your skin touches. It was something you’d never felt before. Maybe it was because he was so much older and it was wrong to feel this way about your neighbor. Maybe it was the excitement of knowing you’d be thinking about this later when you were home and by yourself, taking care of this aching feeling that was growing between your thighs. 

“Point it up just a little bit more, yeah right there. Good girl.” 

At this point he has to know what he was doing to you, the smirk on his lips was a dead give away. He saw the way your eyes widened just enough to make his breath catch in his throat, but he couldn’t act on it. Not yet, at least. He grunts and groans as he starts to move stuff and loosen nuts, the same sounds you imagine echo off his bedroom walls when he’s taking care of himself. He seems like a moaner when he’s jerking off, with such a big house and just one person living there now, there was no way he was a silent masturbater. 

A few hours passed and your hair was sticking to the nape of your neck, completely drenched in sweat. He ended up finding the problem and fixing it just like that. He must know what he’s doing because he found the problem fast…a little too fast.

“Thank you, Mr.Miller, I really appreciate it. Do you have something I can drink?” 

“Oh, shit! I’ve got lemonade inside, c’mon. Ladies first.” 

Joel stands up and lets you walk past before he’s behind you, watching your amazing ass move as you walk up the two little steps to go inside the house. His hand reaches up to the wall and presses on the white button to close the garage door. Seeing the inside of his house was new to you, you’d only seen what you could inside by the front door when you walked by. The tan walls lead you to the kitchen and he points to the white counter island. 

“Sit and wait for me right here, I’ll get ya some lemonade and we can cool off.” 

His finger points to the small barstool tucked under the counter and you straddle the leather top, your ass looking so tempting. The air blows through the vent next to your leg and you shiver slightly as it kisses your warm leg, your nipples hardening under your shirt. Joel walks over to your side and stands close, the lemonade glass clinking against the counter when he sets it down. 

“So what do I owe you?” You ask, taking a sip of lemonade.

“Nothin’ consider it a favor.” 

“Are you sure?” 

You didn’t want it to just be a favor, but if he wanted to play that game, you could too. 

“More than sure, sweetheart.” 

Joel’s waist is so close to brushing against your arm, it was killing you not to move just the slightest to feel him on you. You look up at him and roll your eyes slightly. 

“What was that for?” He asks, his brows knitting together in confusion. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The smirk grows wider on your face before you turn the stool forward but Joel’s hand comes to your neck, right underneath your hair, and he grasps firmly before he guides you to look at him once more. 

“Think you know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.”

His words were breathy, as if he’s running out of time to talk and his lips crash onto yours. Joel’s mustache pokes against your lip as you kiss him deeper before pulling away, standing with your back against the counter, Joel right in front of you with his hands on his hips. 

“I um, I didn’t mean to do that. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Joel looks around the kitchen as if his excuse is written out on the walls for him. 

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise. You can trust me, Mr.Miller.” 

The innocent smile you flash at him causes him to chuckle and shake his head at you. Joel crosses his arms over his chest and gives a pause before responding. 

“You’re trouble, you know that? Come here.” His finger signals for you to come closer and you happily oblige. Joel’s hands squeeze your hips before his right one travels up to your neck, gripping firmly so you can’t wiggle away.

“Tell me, princess…is that what you want? You want me to bend you over the couch, touch you until you can’t take it, shove my cock in your pretty little mouth?”

Full body chills wash over you. Jesus christ, he was good. Looking at him in his eyes once more, the true nature of Joel Miller was coming out to play. The man who pretended to be an innocent, quiet neighbor, was actually just an older man who wanted to fuck you just as much, if not more than you wanted him to. A wolf in sheep's clothing.

“That’s exactly what I want. More than anything.” You grab his forearm and rub softly before following down to his hip. 

It was driving him crazy the way you were toying with the waistband of his gray shorts, the anticipation was killing him. Joel lets go of your neck and nods his head to the floor, wanting you to get on your knees in front of him. When you kneel down and sit patiently, his shorts fall right to his feet, hardened cock springing out in front of you. 

“I don’t think this is gonna fit, Joel.” 

“It’s okay, don’t worry; I’ll make it fit. Open your mouth, sweetheart.” 

Joel waits until your lips part and your tongue sticks out before smacking the tip of his cock against the wetness pooling on your tongue. His groans fill your ears like a symphony and you swear you’ve died and gone to heaven. His cock wasn’t even inside you yet and you were already so wet for him, you could feel it all over the inside of your swimsuit bottoms. You grab the base and begin sucking, taking your time so your lips run slowly over every vein, every inch of skin his cock has to offer.

The amazing work you were doing with your mouth causes him to grunt and buck his hips, ever so slightly face fucking you until he looks down with his teeth clenched from the pleasure. 

“God damn, you can take it deep. Nasty little one. Doin’ even better than I imagined.” 

The bell goes off in your head and you slowly take his cock out of your mouth and look up at him with a grin on your face. 

“You think about what it would be like to get a blowjob from me?” 

Joel scratches his beard and looks away from you so you don’t see the blush creeping on his face. 

“I do, every night. You don’t make it easier on me when I see you outside half naked because it’s so hot out, your tits spilling out of your top. You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart.” 

Now it was your turn to feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You always wondered if he noticed your outfits and he was giving you answers you never thought you’d get. You continue working your tongue from his balls all the way to the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue over the tip and getting any precum dripping out from the way you had him going. His hand runs through your hair and wraps around it, tugging everytime your tongue brushes over the sensitive spot right under the tip. 

“Get up, I can’t take this anymore. I need to fuck you, I need to feel what it’s like inside you.”

He helps you up and walks you over to the black leather couch tucked right under the big picture window in the living room, tossing you down onto the cushions and pulling your ass up into the air with your back arched. He watches as the swim fabric reveals your glossy cunt with the help of Joel pulling the bottoms down just to sit right below your ass.

“Are you ready to be a good girl for me?” Joel grabs your hips and leans over you, cupping your breasts and toying with a nipple as he grinds his cock against your ass waiting for your approval. 

“Y-yes, Joel. I want you to stretch me out. Give it all to me, please.” 

That was enough for him to push his thick cock deep inside you and for a moment your eyes rolled back into your skull. It was one thing having it down your throat but it was another when it feels like it's tearing you in two. Joel’s big hand spreads on your lower back as he drives himself deeper into you, giving you a moment of time to adjust to him before he starts thrusting. 

“Fuck you’re so tight, already squeezing around me. You like that, baby?” His hips slam into you with a rhythmed pace and he grabs your wrists, pinning them to your back while he goes faster. 

Joel’s balls pat against your ass with the speed he’s going and his grunts fall into sync with yours. The two of you start to move against each other and Joel pins your arms tighter to your back to keep himself steady. This was everything you wanted and more and the way your tummy was doing flips, you knew he was ruining you and this wasn’t just a one time thing. 

“Oh my god, Mr.Miller please, go harder, please. Spank me.” 

Joel’s ears perk up and he doesn’t let your arms fall to your side. He holds your wrists with one hand and begins to slap your ass, groaning with every connection his palm makes with your cheeks. You lose count after the fourth one and continue to moan Joel’s name, your pussy aching from the contact.

“I think you’re gonna get me addicted to this pussy, sweetheart. Gonna have to come over again so you can make yourself feel good on my cock, you like the sound of that, baby? I hope I ruin guys your age for you so you only want an older man deep inside you.”

You whine out and the building feeling in your tummy continues and Joel’s words almost push you over the edge. His hand lets go of your wrists and grasp firmly on your hips, slamming your body back against his. 

“I can feel you wanting to come. Is that right? Tell me who this pussy belongs to, sweetheart. Tell me” he growls and spanks you.

Your teeth clamp together as you try not to come yet but he makes it hard with the way he’s plowing into you. Gripping onto the cushion next to you, you try to answer but his moans catch you off guard and make you lose focus.

“C’mon, baby. Tell me who this pussy belongs to and I’ll let you come.” 

Joel spanks your ass again and it brings you enough momentum to respond.

“It’s-fuck-it’s yours Joel. This pussy is yours, all yours I swear.” 

The groan he pulls deep from his sternum is exactly what you need to send you over, dissolving into pleasure underneath Joel. He doesn’t stop thrusting inside of you as he finds it fascinating to watch you squirm and choke out broken moans of his name.

“It’s okay, I got you baby. I’ve got you.” He pants out and soon he’s following you, shooting his load of cum deep inside you. The two of you whimper soft nothings as you come down off your high and Joel catches his breath while he goes soft inside you, the living room falling quiet now. 

As you lay there in a daze with Joel getting off of you, he gives you another moment before he helps you up and fixes your swimsuit bottoms to where they should be sitting. You fix your hair to not look so crazy and turn around to look outside the window and over to your driveway, no one home yet. 

“Joel, would it be okay if I took a nap? You kinda wore my ass out.” You laugh and rest your head on his shoulder. 

“Yeah, absolutely. I won’t uh, I won’t make you sleep on the couch though. C’mon, come sleep in my bed. I’ll make us somethin’ to eat.” He kisses your forehead and walks you to his room. The blue walls and gray sheets invite you in and you’re drawn to his bed immediately. The pillows still fluffed and mangled from him sleeping earlier in the morning but you couldn’t wait to lay on them. He gets you all cozy and in his spot he sleeps and kisses you once more. 

“I’ll come get you when the food is done. Also, sorry I ruined your AC but at least I fixed it!” He says quickly and disappears down the stairs. 

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒔

🕊️a whore's farytale masterlist🕊️

summary - the town's beauty (you) finds herself bargaining her life for her fathers, will the cursed beasts go easy on her? or figure out that she's the one who can break their curse?

warning - smut, monster-fucking, choking, blood play, oral, creampie, name calling, being restrained, biting, refused orgasm/edging, foursome (sorta), being passed around, swearing, death, forced voyeurism, obsessive man, grabbing, groping, trapped, held hostage, slight angst.

18+ only please, the gifs I use aren't mine, header created by me.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The story began with three brothers, they were the same in personality but so different in looks. But the universe had other plans for the pompous Princes, the night of their party was the night a certain witch decided to teach them a lesson, one that would not only make their personalities the same, but also their looks. The sound of music and chatter could be heard from outside the castle with how loud it was. Ari, Logan and Geralt– the Princes, are dressed exceptionally well. Only the finest of clothing fits their bulky forms, expensive jewels decorate their body. Ari and Geralt both have their hair tied back in a slick ponytail, one longer than the other. A silky silver matches Geralt’s light gray suit, while Ari wears a silky blue, matching his darker blue suit. Logan has his hair slicked back, although slightly messier with a few strands falling in front of his face, the look doesn’t make him any less handsome. He wears a silky black suit, the colour looking almost devilish on him. 

The brothers split from one another, Ari strides toward a beautiful blonde, twirling her as he pulls her toward the dance floor. Logan stalks off to the bar, glaring at anyone that gets in his way and Geralt heads toward a group of women, already flaunting themselves at him. The party is wild as the guests enjoy themselves, none aware of the storm brewing outside. An old woman trembles as she stands before the large doors, her wrinkled hands shake as she knocks, the sound echoing throughout the room, stopping the party momentarily. The three brothers turn, looking at the door and then to each other, a scowl on their faces, wondering who dares interrupt their party. Logan head tips back as the alcohol slides down his throat before he slams the glass down, his other two brothers express their deepest apologies. All three head towards the door, it may seem a bit extreme, but the three never go anywhere without each other. The only thing that they didn’t do together was share a woman. 

Ari’s hands wrap around the handles, flinging the door open and they scowl down at the ugly old lady before them. “What do you want?” The men stand there, their bulky builds taking up the whole doorway. 

“P–Please, may I come in for some shelter?” The old woman shivers, her nimble hands trembling and she clutches three roses. She offers them to the three princes, “I offer these roses for your kindness.” Her lips quiver, the cold seeming to get to her.

Logan scoffs. “God, no. Find somewhere else you wretched old hag.” The other two nod, not hiding their disgust. A shriek escapes their lips as suddenly the ugly hag magically shifts into a beautiful woman. “What the…”

Her face is set in stone, a harsh glare in her eyes. “Despicable. You’d think Princes like yourselves would be kinder. But, alas you have failed the test.”

“What? What test? You are welcome to come in, Miss.” Geralt stumbles, shamelessly checking out the Enchantress. Her lip curls as though she can see the dirty thoughts swirling around in his mind. 

Her head tilts, the three roses suddenly being encased in three glass domes, the beautiful flowers floating in the centre. “No. For the curse to be broken, you will have to find someone that will want you, all of you.”

Ari scoffs. “Please. We can have anyone want us, are you blind?”

The Enchantress smirks. “What I mean is for them to want all of you in your true forms.” Suddenly magic swirls around the men and their bodies begin to grow and shred, thick luscious fur replacing flesh. Sharp claws replace nicely kept fingernails, eyes turning a bright golden-yellow. Growls begin to fill the air as canines spurt from their gums, replacing their human teeth. The usual men now beasts stood at eight-feet, towering over the witch and before they could strike, she disappeared. Her words rang in their head. ‘If you do not find someone who truly wants you before the last petal falls, you will be stuck as beasts forever.’

Years pass and nearby in a small village, a beautiful young woman named Y/n-Belle hurries through the town. You greeted people as you passed by, a warm smile resting upon your lips. You hurried over to your favourite store, which happened to be the bookstore, a giant grin appears as you push the door open and stumble through, the excitement vibrating throughout your whole body. Y/n-Belle was a very strange, but smart woman, you were the only one in town that got excited about books and reading, causing you to become an outcast and lonely within the people. But you didn’t mind, you were quite content with living in your fantasies. 

The bookstore owner heads over to you, a smile on his face as he hands you one of your favourites. A book that you’ve read a thousand of times, yet would never tire of reading it. You smile, a dreamy look appearing on your face as you peer down at the book, your soft hands grabbing it gently, fingers stroking the cover. “This is my favourite! Far-off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, a prince in disguise…” You pause, your imagination flashing before your eyes as you play out the words in the book. You blink, coming back into reality and you give the man a smile. “Oh, thank you very much!” 

You spin, your blue and white dress swishing around you. You rush outside, the book already opened and your eyes flickering over the words as you walk. Your head was stuck in the book, not noticing the town's most handsome hunter heading straight for you. “Y/n-Belle!” You were hoping that if you ignored him that he would go away, but that did not seem to be the case. He stopped in front of you, nearly causing you to topple over. Gaston chuckles, “the whole town’s talking about you! It’s not right for a woman to read,” He shakes his head, chuckling as if the thought alone was funny. Yet, you had somehow figured that he’s never picked up a book in his life, his small mind proving that the more he talks. “It’s about time you got your nose out of those books and paid attention to more important things— like me!” He boasts, puffing his chest out like he is the most desirable thing to live and breathe. Truthfully, none of the men in your village caught your fancy. You were more into, well… Beasts.

You desperately try to get away without being rude, not in the mood to deal with a petulant child. You could see your escape, but as you opened your mouth to leave. Gaston’s “friend” joined, beginning to insult your father without much of a hello. Your brows furrowed and your lips pursed. “My father is not crazy! He’s a genius, but you are too stupid to realise that!” You blow up, letting your anger consume you without thinking properly. An explosion interrupts the men from responding, the sound coming from your cottage where your father is currently working on something. Without much thought, you take off running. 

You arrive at the cottage, finding your father. Gaston’s words replay in your head, you sit on top of a barrel that is in your front yard. “They think I’m odd, Papa.” You play with your fingers, picking some dirt from underneath your fingernails. 

“Don’t worry, Y/n-Belle. My inventions are going to change everything for us. We won’t have to live in this little town forever.” He says with a giant smile, one that used to give you hope to his dreams. But they slowly begin to dwindle as his inventions haven’t gotten any better, but you don’t want to ruin his dreams by voicing your concerns. You watch as he mounts your horse, Philippe, setting off for the fair with his new invention. “Goodbye, Y/n-Belle! Don’t worry about what others say, you will go places!”

Maybe you did still have hope, especially when he gives you another one of his smiles and a wave. You return it, watching as he goes.  “Goodbye! Good luck, I believe in you, father!”

Still at the cottage, you don’t know that your father got lost on his way and the events following would eventually lead you to your future, whether it be good or bad. But it would definitely be strange, and full of twists and turns.

You sit inside, your head in your book again. Even though you had read it many times, it would still be your favourite. You are pulled out of your fantasy world as you hear a knock at the door. You get up, slowly opening it and sighing as you see Gaston on the other side. “Gaston! What a… pleasant surprise!” You force a tiring smile on your lips. 

Gaston strolls in, taking his shoes off, exposing his dirty and very used socks. He takes a seat at the head of the table, placing his dirty feet on top of your favourite book, causing it to become dirty. A scowl appears upon your face at the disrespect of this man. “Y/n-Belle! There’s not a woman in town who wouldn’t love to be in your shoes. Do you know why? Because I want to marry you!”

You huff silently, knowing that the only way you could get out of this is if you politely decline and make it seem as though you weren’t worthy of him. “Gaston, I’m speechless!” You gnaw on your bottom lip, hating that this disgusting pig of a man won’t leave you alone. “I’m sorry, but… but…” You swallow, knowing you will have to force these words out. “I just don’t deserve you!” You force back scrunching your nose in disgust, watching as humiliation falls upon his face. 

Without a word he stumbles out, hastily putting on his shoes causing him to trip, slipping into some mud. You peeked out, placing a hand over your lips to cover the giggle that threatened to escape past them, watching as the villagers gathered around, hoping to see some sort of wedding or at least a celebration. Only to witness their friend and fellow villager fall into some mud, causing Gaston to feel even more humiliated than before. You’d hope that would at least knock his ego down a few pegs.

You waited until everyone had disappeared from your home before rushing out to feed the chickens. You hear something causing your head to whip around and you find your horse, Philippe, alone without your father. You head over to him, checking for something, anything. “Philippe! What are you doing here? Where’s Papa?!” He whines anxiously and you immediately rush to the house to grab your cloak before running back to him and climbing onto his back. You feel frightened as you think of all the possibilities of what could’ve happened to your father. This feeling pushes you to return to the mysterious forest, allowing you to find a castle that looks like it has been abandoned for many years.

You try and steady, Philippe, brows furrowing when you spot something on the ground. With swift movements, you dismount your horse and move toward the object. A soft gasp passes your lips as you recognise your father’s hat. Without a second thought, you hurry toward the gloomy castle, pushing past the heavy doors and deciding to wander the vast deserted corridors. Your main focus was to find your father, no care of what may happen to you. “Papa? Are you here? It’s Y/n-Belle!” You were met with silence, you continued your search not knowing of the objects that are alive because of the curse within the castle walls.

You stumble along as you finally discover your father locked away in a cell. You gasp, having to kneel as the only opening was at feet level. “Papa! We have to get you out of here!” Suddenly you felt as though you were being watched. 

“What’re you doing here?”

“You shouldn’t be in our castle, Little one.” 

“Leave now!” 

Your eyes widen when you hear three different voices coming from within the shadows. “Please, let my father go! Take me instead!”

There was a scoff filled with curiosity from the shadows. “You would take his place?” 

“S–step into the light please…” You asked. Your expression morphed as you stared horrified at three huge, ugly Beasts– well, they weren’t ugly… But you wouldn’t let them know that between your thighs you felt yourself clench around nothing. You gulped, you didn’t want to be anywhere near these monsters, but you agreed to take your father’s place. “I–” You swallow the saliva that gets stuck in your throat. “I would. I will take his place.” Your words left no room for argument, you were putting your foot down. You didn’t know that you signed up for forever with the three Beasts.

As the words left your lips, one of the Beasts grabbed your father from his cell and dragged him throughout the castle, once outside he was thrown into a carriage that would take him home. The other two begin to walk, causing you to follow behind nervously. The third joining immediately, you let your eyes wander. Taking everything in, it felt like one of those books you always had your nose buried in. 

Your voice cuts through the silence, sounding as though it echoes through the dark halls. “D–do you three have names?” As I don’t want to continue calling you Beasts in my head, you think the last bit to yourself. Knowing it would be rude of you to voice out loud. 

“Ari.” 

“Logan.” 

“Geralt.” 

They growl out, hardened eyes landing on your tiny form. Ari steps toward you, towering over you as you shiver, your eyes wide and you try to shrink into yourself. “Our castle is your home now, so you can go anywhere you like…”

Geralt cuts in. “Except the West Wing.”

You stare back, innocently asking. “What’s in the West Wing?” 

Their bodies tense and they glare as Logan growls out. “It’s forbidden!” Geralt opens a door to your new bedroom and pushes you in. 

“You will join us for dinner. That’s not a request.” Ari stares you down, stopping you from protesting. They shut the door and stalk off, separating to different parts of the castle. You lie down on the bed, burying your face into the pillows. You knew you would never escape this prison, nor would you ever see your father again. Maybe you should’ve married Gaston, at least then you wouldn’t be stuck with Beasts.

The disgusting truth though was how much you weren’t disgusted by their forms. Their behaviour. It was definitely something out of those books you read, just less romantic and more animalistic. You huff, shaking your head of those thoughts. You will in no way let them find out about this. It was something different than other women would fantasie about and you didn’t want those… FREAKS! To judge you.

You refused to go to dinner when the time came, knowing you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself if you stayed in the same room as them for too long. Oh, how your father would be disgraced by the woman you’ve become. You had grown bored and hungry and had decided to wander the castle in hopes of finding the kitchen. With quiet footsteps, you exited your room and tiptoed down the halls, peaking your head around corners and stopping whenever you heard the slightest of noises.

You were no fool, the Beasts had been mad when you refused to dine with them and if one of them were to find you wandering the halls in search of food. Well you fear you may become theirs instead. Though, you wouldn’t mind them… No, you couldn’t let your thoughts wander for too long. 

A small squeal passes your lips when you finally stumble upon the kitchen, happily making your way over to the fridge before a voice interrupts, causing your heart to drop into your stomach. 

“You know… If you had come to dinner. You wouldn’t be so hungry now.” The voice was deep, a growl slipping through with each word. You spin, eyes wide as they land on Logan, how had you missed such a big figure? You squeak, not knowing what to reply with. Logan raises a furry brow, “Cat got your tongue, Little one?” He moves fast, now towering over you. “Or should I say Beast?” 

Your thighs press together, a whimper slipping past your lips and your wide eyes stare up at him. “I–I…” Stupid, why the hell would you try to speak when you’re in this position? Your voice would give you away, you daft bimbo. You scowl at yourself, how could you be so dumb when you were the only one to read in your village? You gulp as he leans in with a smirk. You don’t know that their senses had heightened with their transformation, you had practically given yourself away since you broke into their castle. 

“Hmm? No words?” Your hunger forgotten and replaced with something else. You notice how his hand, though actually a paw, comes up, a lit cigar between his clawed fingers, bringing it to his lips, puffing on it as he stares into your eyes watching as you follow his movements. “Ya know, my brothers are angry with the fact you ignored their invitation.” 

Your eyes roll and you scoff. “Well, excuse me for not wanting to dine with those that are keeping me hostage.” His brow raises again, not expecting so many words to pass your lips. You gulp, where the hell did that come from? 

“Huh, so you do say more than four words.” He leans closer if that was even possible, “Better watch your tone with me, Little one or else I’m gonna have to do something about it.” With those words, he disappears and you whimper. Fantastic, the only pair of knickers you have on you and they are completely drenched. You wouldn’t be surprised if the other two could smell you wherever they were.

You shakily prepare a small meal, hurriedly eating it so you don’t have another run in. When you finish, you swear you hear someone speak. But looking around, you find no one. Your brows furrow, are you finally going insane? You begin to get up when you hear it again.

“Excuse me, Miss.” You look around again, what the hell? “Down here, Miss.” You look down and let out a small squeak of surprise, there stands before you a small clock that seems alive? He blinks up at you, a smile on his face? “Hello. I am Cogsworth. I am sorry for frightening you.”

“I–it’s f–fine.” You clear your throat. “It’s fine. You didn’t frighten me, just a bit startled is all.” You try to smile, “Have you been here this whole time?” You hoped he hadn’t, you wouldn’t want to know what an object thought of the previous events. 

Cogsworth shakes his head. “No, Miss. Master Logan ordered that I escort you back to your quarters. He doesn’t want you wandering about… In your condition.” His eyes squint, as though he understands yet how could you know he would? You had no clue that the alive object was once a person. 

“Oh, okay.” You stand, smoothing down your dress about to follow but you stop. “Actually, Cogsworth. Would you mind giving me a tour of the castle, please?” 

He looks at you for a few seconds, as though he was hesitating before he nods. “Okay, follow me. Miss.” You spend most of your night getting acquainted with your new home before you stop underneath a dark staircase. Noticing how Cogsworth seems to want to hurry past it without acknowledging it. 

“What’s up there?” Your curiousity seeps through your words. 

Cogsworth practically shakes as he answers. “Nothing, absolutely nothing of interest at all in the West Wing.” Your interest piqued as you heard West Wing. You watch as he’s too busy focusing on ensuring the two of you don’t get caught, especially near this staircase. Allowing you to escape unnoticed, racing up the staircase and into a long hallway lined with broken mirrors.

“Well… That’s bad luck for many, many years.” You wet your lips as you cautiously opened the doors at the end of the corridor. You enter the dank, filthy room strewn with broken furniture, torn curtains and grey, gnawed bones. Your eyes wide, taking it all in before they land on the only living object or should you say objects. There behind a glass dome were three shimmering roses. Entranced, Y/n–Belle lifted the cover and reached out to touch one soft, pink petal. You were so entranced that you did not hear Ari enter the room.

“I warned you never to come here!” He advanced on you. “GET OUT! GET OUT!” Your daze had been broken, desire now replaced with fear. You became terrified of his rage, causing you to turn and run. You run out of the room, down the stairs and past Cogsworth and a candle? You didn’t have time to stop, you needed to leave. Not even your lust for your fantasy to come true could stop you. Your feet had taken control of your body. 

“Promise or no promise, I can’t stay here another minute!” You flee, finding your horse and taking off. You gallop through the snow until you are met with a pack of fierce, hungry wolves. Your eyes widen, mouth opening and closing as you don’t know whether to scream or breathe. Through your terror, you forgot about the horse you sat upon. He reared, causing you to fall to the ground, tumbling into the snow below. They were advancing on Philippe, so with quick movements, you found a large stick and defended your horse. 

“Stay back!” You swing, swiping at them. Hoping and praying that they would leave. Their attention moved from your horse and you would’ve sighed of relief but instead you choked up, the wolves had now turned on you. Their canines bared as they snarl. Oh no, no no no. You thought, brows furrowing as worry fills you. Well, at least they are no longer after Philippe. 

You shriek as they pounce, about to rip you apart until suddenly a large paw pulls the animals off of you. It was Ari and you notice Logan and Geralt standing behind him. Anger evident on their faces, you knew it was directed towards you for leaving and now nearly getting yourself killed. You struggle to your feet, stumbling into a pair of arms as all you can do is watch the wolves turn and strike Ari and Logan, fierce growls filling the cold air. The wolves were no match for the two, being torn off and flung as a ferocious howl escapes the Beasts, surprising the wolves before they flee into the night. 

Logan grunts while Ari stumbles, collapsing into the snow. Wounded. The brothers attention now focused on him, Geralt’s hold loosening and this could’ve been your chance to escape. But what did you have at home? And when you looked at the fallen Beast, you knew you couldn’t leave him. Even though he had his brothers. Logan and Geralt pull Ari up, arms wrapped around him as he leaned against them. He was not the fighter of the two and not even he knew why he didn’t let Geralt fight in his place. 

The Beasts barely spare you a glance, they began to walk away, expecting you to get on your horse and leave. But you didn’t move, with a heavy heart you watched them walk from you. Did your chance slip through your fingers? Philippe nudges you, looking at you with those big eyes and you sigh. He nudges you again, gesturing you to look and when you do, your mouth opens. The three Beasts had stopped, as if they were waiting for you and without a second thought. You grabbed your horse and raced toward them, offering your horse for Ari to rest on and to get to the castle faster so you could tend to his wounds. 

Back at the castle, you cleaned Ari’s wound. “Thank you… For saving my life even though you didn’t have to.” You whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I… I hope you can forgive me for running.” You look up from his wound to his face, not knowing the feeling he feels when you look at him like that. 

His paw covers your hand, “There’s nothing to forgive, Beauty. I’m the one who should apologise for scaring you.” You shake your head, his gaze gets distracted by the way your hair frames your face and how the light of the sunrise hits your skin, causing you to glow. “Do you think I’m okay enough to walk for a bit? I have something I want to show you.” 

Your brows furrow, looking between his wound and him. His face makes it hard for you to say no, but you also didn’t want him to hurt himself by moving too much. You look up again, being met with puppy dog eyes which makes it harder to resist when he’s not exactly human looking. “...Okay! Okay, but only for a little bit. I don’t want you hurting yourself and ruining all of my work.” You assist him as you help him up, allowing his arm to wrap around you. Which is quite difficult seeing as there is a massive height and size difference. Oh god, you begin to think what else is huge… How would you be able to possibly fit it inside of you? You shake your head, ridding yourself of those thoughts, hoping that the Beast wouldn’t catch on. 

Ari leads you through the halls before stopping upon two large doors. He leans forward, opening them and you both walk inside. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. “Oh my god!” You look around, a gasp escaping your lips. “This is so beautiful! I’ve never seen so many books in all my life!” 

Ari had smiled a real smile for the first time since he was a child. “Then it is yours.” You look at him in disbelief, you could’ve dropped to your knees right then and there. 

…

Okay, so you did. You fell right to your knees, not caring that they scraped against the carpet or that a squeak of desire left you as you finally gave into your desire. Ari stared wide-eyed down at you, his mouth wide open as shock filled him. He was not expecting that, if he had known all it would take was giving you their library, he would’ve done that from the beginning. “What… What are you doing?” 

Your eyes widen, finally reality hits. “Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry!” You go to stand, but his paw stops you, keeping you in place. You could feel your knickers dampen. Not the same ones, they had mysteriously gone missing when you went to shower before tending to Ari. But you were thankful to whoever laid out new clothes for you. 

“I didn’t say you had to get up. I just have never seen someone drop to their knees so fast.” He felt himself harden, his cursed body did come with an added bonus. He was now much larger than his human self, he wasn’t small before. But now it was monstrous. 

You watched with wide and lust filled eyes as his pants expanded, stretching to the point it looked as though the seams would break. “Can… Can I?” You gesture to his bulge, looking up at him with large, doe eyes. 

“Fuck.” He nods, growling. “Go ahead, Beauty.” His golden-yellow eyes stare down at you, canines digging into his bottom lip as you press your hand against the bulge, feeling it, squeezing it. Your hand is tiny compared to him, causing a whimper to slip from your lips and a growl from his. “You gonna play with it or suck it?” He growls, frustrated. You squeeze your thighs together, grabbing the waistband of his pants and pulling them down. You let out a moan as his member springs free. Nearly slapping you in the face with how big it is. 

You lean forward hesitantly, kissing his weeping tip before bringing it into your mouth and sucking. Your eyes slip closed as you moan around it, it felt so perfect against your tongue. It was a struggle to get the whole tip in your mouth, right now you could only get a small bit in. But you were going to make this work, you didn’t know when another opportunity like this would present itself. Ari watched from above as you struggled to fit him inside, groaning at the sight. 

Your tongue flicked over the slit, collecting the pre-cum that leaks out. You let out a whimper as you slowly move further down his cock, taking more of him inside of your mouth. You can feel yourself dripping onto the floor with how wet you are. Ari’s paw slams down on a nearby bookshelf, his growls fill the room, echoing throughout the castle. You rest your hands on his furry thighs, gripping them as you force more of him in, mouth stretched as wide as it can, sucking him in. One hand moves to the rest you can’t fit in, no matter how much you try and force it to. You wrap it around the base, twisting and jerking while your head bobs up and down, tongue swirling and tracing his veins, causing more sounds to escape the Beast. 

You don’t notice the two brothers that hide in the shadows, watching you suck off their brother. They felt themselves become filled with hope and desire, knowing you were the one that would break their curse. Ari grips your head, holding you down as he cums down your throat, watching it overflow and drip from the sides of your mouth, trying to swallow everything desperately like the good girl you are. When he pulls his cock free from your mouth, all three Beasts take a sharp breath at how good you looked covered in cum, your eyes glazed over with a need to be fucked. 

After the events in the library, everything began to change. Throughout the month, you would find yourself suddenly pushed up against a wall, lips attached to any exposed flesh, hands beneath your dress or groping your breasts. You were so sexually frustrated, the Beasts would rile you up only to leave you wanting more. They would never let you cum, they weren’t even trying to get themselves off. You began to spend your time with them, always sitting on one of their laps, never straying far. If one found you reading or even just simply existing. You’d suddenly be under them, at some point you had cried, begging them to fuck you. 

That evening you were sitting on Geralt’s lap, your lip pulled between your teeth as he gently grinds you down on his bulge. Stopping whenever he felt you were too close. Logan lounged across from you, a cigar dangling carelessly between his smirking lips as his dark eyes watched you. Your gaze was pulled from Logan when Ari leant behind him on the chair. “Are you happy, Y/n–Belle?”

You hum, a bit dazed and distracted by the tingles zapping between your thighs. “Yes. I am very happy, I only wish I could see my father and know he made it home safe. I miss him very much.” 

Ari hummed in response, turning as if he’s searching for something. Geralt continues his torture on you, making your head fall back as you near your orgasm again, whining when he stops, taking it away. “There is a way.” You blink, trying to focus on what Ari is saying. He moves toward you, handing you a magic mirror. In it, you see your father being locked away as the town gathered around, lit torches in their hands as they chant about killing the Beasts and saving you. An unhappy look crosses your face as you see Gaston leading it. “If you need, you may go if you like.” The Beasts didn’t want you to leave. 

You shake your head, “There is no point. There is a group already heading this way, it would be stupid of me to leave now.” Stupid Gaston always ruining your peace. Why was the man so adamant on marrying you? You stand, “I am going outside for a bit of fresh air, is that okay?” You could not think straight when in the same room as them, it was like all common sense flew out the window and the only thing you wanted was for them to use you. 

Ari nods, Logan and Geralt scowl when they hear about people coming to their castle. Geralt had seen the look on your face when seeing that man appear in the mirror, a plan forms and he decides to share it with his brothers. Who wouldn’t love a live show?

Your coat flows around you as you exit the castle, cold air immediately hitting you. You wander over to the blooming rose bushes, gently brushing your fingers over the petals. A sudden squeal escapes you as someone grabs you, putting their arms around you and whispering into your ear. “Hello, MY Y/n–Belle. So far from home, why not come back, huh? Come back and I’ll forgive you, Y/n–Belle, come back and we can marry.” Gaston’s voice caused unwanted shivers to roll through you, his was not the voice you wanted to hear nor the arms you wanted around you. 

“I will never marry you! Why can’t you get that through your thick head?!” You struggle against his grip, teeth clenched as your words come out rough. “You have gone mad, Gaston!” 

Gaston grinned evilly, “Good thing I don’t care, Y/n–Belle. Once I have killed the Beasts, you will be MINE.” You watched as the villagers tore through the castle’s doors, the sound of shouts and a fight breaking out can be heard over the howling wind. “Come. You shall take me to the Beasts, so that I can rid of them and claim you as my own.” His grip on your arm is bruising, dragging you past everyone and up the stairs. You didn’t know why he had chosen this direction, the castle was huge, there was no way he’d be able to find them so quickly… Unless he had been watching, waiting. 

“Ah huh! The Beasts! You are not as terrifying as her lunatic of a father said you were!” He pulls you closer to him, three sets of growls ripple through the air as they watch your face become pained. “I shall kill you at last, so that I can claim Y/n–Belle as my own.” 

“There’s three of us and one of you. What makes you think you can take us?” Geralt growls, his eyes firmly set on Gaston’s. You shivered, you didn’t know whether it was from fear or horniness. You felt yourself throb and nodded to yourself, definitely the latter. “I suggest you let go of our HoneyBelle.” 

Gaston chuckles, pulling a gun from. Well you don’t exactly know where? It was definitely not in his hand or anywhere really when he grabbed you. “This. I am the best hunter there is. I shall have all three of your heads mounted on my wall by morning.” It was a wonder how his head never exploded from how big his ego was. It was almost as big as well… Your mind began to drift again and you had to shake your head to try and rid yourself of these thoughts, it wasn’t the time. 

The Beasts smirked, they had learnt to read your body well. Their Little one, Beauty and HoneyBelle was thinking inappropriately at an unfortunate time. You had come out of your daze in time to notice the designs on the wall come to life. Like a snake, the marble vines slithered across the floor and wrapped around Gaston’s leg. “What is this?!” He tries shaking his leg, letting go of you from the distraction. You squeak as arms pull you toward them, you look up to see Ari before he places you behind him. Gaston snarls, seeing you had gotten away. “You freaks! You think you can defeat me?! I AM THE GREAT GASTON!” He roared, but he was no match for a Beast's roar. 

Having shrunk into himself as Logan roared back, it allowed the vine to pull him into a room that was conveniently set up. It dragged him over to a chair placed in the middle of the room, the arms had strangely been taken off. Gaston was harshly placed down onto the chair, the vines wrapping around him and the seat, securing the angered hunter. “I will escape this foolishness and take Y/n–Belle as my own!” He struggles against the vines grip. 

The three Beasts stalk into the room, pulling you gently, but possessively along. Logan pulls you to stand in front of them, from Gaston’s perspective. You looked so tiny before them, you didn’t even look that tiny next to him and he was the tallest in the village. The Beasts towered over you, looking menacing to everyone but you. 

“You will see who she belongs to. Won’t he, Little one?” Your thighs press together, feeling yourself throb between them and you nod. “Take off your dress.” Your hands move shakily as you lift your dress over your head and gently toss it to your side, Gaston’s eyes widen as he finally gets to see what he’s been wishing for. Maybe the Beasts are going to let him have a taste before he kills them. He smirks at that thought, becoming cocky once more. Logan moves toward you, staring at the hunter as he grasps your breast, squeezing it before rubbing your hardened nipples. “You see this? See how she reacts to our touch?” He growls, everyone in the room watches as you whimper, eyes watering and thighs pressed tightly together. 

“Why don’t you go and lay on his lap, Little one.” He tells you, “On your stomach, no touching.” He glares at Gaston as he says the last part. Knowing in some way that the hunter would try and possibly slip through those vines like the slippery git he is. Logan’s paw hits your arse, pushing you forward with a slap. You squeal, timidly walking over to the bounded man, laying across his lap, the vines seem to welcome you instead of digging into you. 

You bite your lip as you watch the Beasts stalk forward, coming closer. You whimper as Ari kneels between your legs and Geralt stands above your head. Logan stands directly in the middle, staring down Gaston who greedily stares down at you, his mouth opens and everyone knows he’s about to say something, but a vine slithers up and covers it before he can speak. Wrapping itself around until he’s gagged and bound. 

“Such a pretty sight, Beauty. Are you ready to cum after all of this waiting? Hmm? We know we’ve been depriving you of it.” You moan at his words, not being able to respond or place your head down because you were too focused on the giant bulge in front of you. You throb at the sight, you could never get over how large they were. 

“It seems she can’t reply at the moment, Ari. Our girl is a bit dumbstruck.” Geralt tilts his head, looking at Gaston. “Whores, you understand right?” His golden-yellow eyes narrow as his gaze turns back to you. “Why don’t you take my cock out, HoneyBelle. Show this human what you prefer.” You whine, squirming in Gaston’s lap as you reach your hands out quickly, the Beasts chuckle at how desperate you are. 

You had only seen Ari’s cock, none of the other Beasts would give you the pleasure to see theirs. It felt like such a punishment when you could feel them, but you weren’t allowed to see. When you saw Ari’s you thought he was the biggest that you’ve ever seen, obviously you were wrong. Geralt seemed to at least be an inch longer, maybe more. Your eyes flickered over to Logan’s clothed cock, wondering if he was bigger than these two. 

Geralt moves your head back to him, your mouth falls open as he guides his member inside, forcing it in unlike Ari. Speaking of, the other Beast dives between your thighs, lapping up your arousal like a man starved. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the intense pleasure that shoots through you. Your moans vibrate around Geralt’s member, causing him to tilt his head back and let out a roar. He holds your head in place as he begins to thrust back and forth, fucking your mouth like it’s his own personal fleshlight. You drool from being used, allowing him to thrust in and out easier. 

Ari palms your arse and thighs, holding you close as he devours your sweet cunt. His tongue thrusts in and out of your glistening hole before switching to lick and suck your puffy clit, taking the little bead between his sharp canines. A giant grin appears on his face as your squeals can be heard around his brother’s cock, your squirms become frantic and your toes curl. He laps your sweet juices up, knowing he would never let you go after having tasted you. 

Gaston grunts, becoming disgusted with himself as he hardens at the sight, his growing bulge pushes against your stomach. Twitching as you continue to squirm against him. Logan’s glare sharpens as he notices. 

“Stop.” Everything ceases and you whine, tongue hanging out of your mouth, eyes crossed and cunt tingling as you wonder why the pleasure had been stopped. He waves his paw, gesturing for you to be pulled up. You squeal as Ari pulls you up, his large bulge presses into your back, quite close to your shoulders with how tall he was. “Are you getting off on our Little one?” The growl echoes throughout the room and goes straight to your cunt. 

Logan pulls you from Ari’s hold, holding your hip with one paw while the other pulls his pants down, releasing his thickened member. You feel it slap against your body and jolt, a gasp escaping you. You had a guess that he definitely was the biggest between the three. He grasps his throbbing member in his hold, stroking it as he directs his leaking tip against your sopping cunt. Logan holds eye contact with the defenseless hunter as he thrusts into you, stretching your walls wide. Your head falls back into his chest, no sounds escape your opened mouth as you are speechless. You swear you could see colours with how delicious the stretch felt, you had never felt so full before.

The Beasts and the hunter gulp as they see the bulge appear on your stomach, it slowly disappears as Logan pulls out slowly only to thrust back in. Your arms flail about as you try and find something to grip onto, your hands grab onto his biceps, arms and fur as he begins to pound into you. Growls fill the room as Logan picks up his brutal pace, slamming in and out of you like a wild animal. His grip on your hips tighten, canines bared as he lowers his head down to your exposed neck. 

“Logan!” His brother’s eyes widen as they go to stop him, but it’s too late. Logan latches onto your neck, sinking his canines into your flesh and growling as your warm blood seeps into his mouth. Your eyes roll back as your cunt clenched tightly around the Beast. Your back arches, nails digging into his flesh as you scream, cumming around him repeatedly. 

“Logan!” A different shout comes through. Not his brother’s, but yours. You cry his name as he continues to pull orgasms from your small body, fucking into you harder and faster until he pulls away from your neck and roars, thick ropes of cum shoot out of his thick, angry tip and coat your walls. Filling your tiny cunt to the brim, possibly even making its way into your stomach before it drips out, coating your thighs white. He suddenly feels weakened as he pulls out of you, he stumbles back and falls. Ari catches you as they stare at their brother wide-eyed.

“The curse! It must be the curse!” The brother’s exclaim, looking at each other before looking at you with wide grins. 

“Are you ready for more, Beauty?” You nod rapidly, already feeling desire take over as you think about these Beasts using you again. He pulls you over to the hunter, pressing you into the side of the chair, your breasts pushing into Gaston’s face, back arching as Ari grips onto you and you grip the chair tightly as he guides his throbbing member into your used cunt, his eyes roll back at the feel of how tight you are. “Fuck, Beauty. So perfect for us.” He leans forward, flattening his tongue against your wounded neck, licking up your blood before sinking his teeth in as he begins to pound into you, pushing you into the desperate man. Gaston is forced to suffer as your bare breasts press into him whilst you get fucked by another man. Ari towers over you, covering your whimpering form. His cock slides in and out of your fluttering hole with sharp thrusts, already feeling his end nearing. He slides his paw to your stomach, pressing on the bulge before continuing to travel down to your puffy clit and plays with it. 

You jerk, mouth falling open as your walls tighten around him and your juices flow out, coating him as you cum, your toes curl and your moans fill the room. Ari follows quickly behind, stuffing his cock deep inside of you as he lets go with a roar, filling you with his cum alongside his brother’s. You feel your stomach filling from a weird angle, as he slides out of you, you look down to see your stomach bulging a tiny bit. You whimper, your cunt pulsates as you move toward Geralt, looking up at him with wide eyes. Desperate to be filled again. Not noticing Ari slumping against the wall, his body draining. 

Geralt growls, gripping your throat between his clawed fingers. “You want more, HoneyBelle?” You nod, pouting. Your eyes glazed over. “What a slut you are.” He tuts, “I want to test something out first.” His golden-yellow eyes narrow as he slides his cock deep into your used cunt with one quick thrust. Watching your eyes roll back for possibly the twentieth time that night, he was surprised they hadn’t gotten stuck. He stills and you whine, clutching him, your hips move as you bounce yourself up and down his cock. His grip around your throat tightens. “I want you to watch, HoneyBelle.” You pout, looking at him before he turns your attention to poor defenseless Gaston. 

Your eyes widen as you watch the vines slowly remove themselves from his body, you clutch Geralt tightly as Gaston blinks, he slowly stands and with a vicious growl, he pulls out a dagger and launches himself towards the two of you. Your cunt tightens around the Beast and with wide eyes you watch as Geralt swipes his paw that isn’t gripping your throat, his claws dig deeply into the hunters throat, large slashes appear as Gaston’s body drops. His face permanently set in a shocked expression. You whimper, feeling yourself drip around Geralt’s member. 

You blink, looking innocently at his face as he smirks. “Just what I thought. You are a very nasty whore, HoneyBelle.” You clench around him, the paw that is marked with Gaston’s blood comes up and grips your face while the other moves down to hold onto your thighs. You felt so dirty, but in a good way. You don’t notice him moving you over to a wall, the vines from before slither over, wrapping around your wrists and ankles as they hold you open for all to see. Geralt grins, sliding his bloody paw down your body, leaving a trail of blood that mixes with your own. “I’m going to fuck you now, HoneyBelle. So.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Hard.” With his last word, the Beast begins to pound into you, splitting you open.

You scream and moan, your nails digging into your palms. You can’t help but struggle against the vines, wanting, NEEDING, something to hold onto. Your head hits the wall as your half–lidded eyes watch Geralt ruin you, fucking you like the wild Beast he is. His golden-yellow eyes never leave yours. Not until he leans forward and digs his canines into the very same spot Logan and Ari did, reveling in the taste of your blood, the feel of it flowing into him, dripping down his chin. 

The feeling of his cock splitting you open and his canines ripping through your flesh cause your vision to go white as you cum, squirting all over the Beast. Your arousal coats him, dripping down his thick member. Geralt growls, slamming into you harder and faster, his head now out from your neck, eyes watching you before he buries himself inside of you. Cumming deep into you, his gaze flickers down and he watches as your stomach bulges a bit more from being filled by three different types of cum. He grins, slowly thrusting as he emptied himself inside of you before pulling out and falling to the ground like his brother’s.

The vines don’t pull away, you hang against the wall. Your eyes flutter as your mind is dazed. You swear you see gold swirling around the three Beasts bodies, causing your brows to furrow as you try and blink away the cloudiness. You were saddened that in place of your Beasts were normal human men… You broke their curse. 

The three brother’s groan, slowly dragging themselves up from the floor. Their eyes scan each other before looking down at themselves, seeing their human selves. “Finally. The curse has been broken and I am no longer bound as a Beast.” You whimper, causing their eyes to shoot toward you.

Ari moves over, hands skimming your soft body. “Hello, Beauty.” You frown. 

They were handsome, you weren’t blind. All three of them looked different to each other and their animal form. Ari with medium length brown hair and pretty blue eyes, a bushy beard covering some of his face. Logan with short dark brown hair that somehow had styled small horns on top and hardened blue eyes, a slight beard covering his face. Then there’s Geralt, different from the two with his long white hair and golden eyes, a five o’clock shadow rests on his face. You stared at the brothers. They were gorgeous for humans, somewhat god-like but deep down, you desired the Beasts within them. Somehow, it made them… More.  

Geralt smirks at his work. “I am not going to lie, I will miss being a Beast.” Logan grunts at his brother’s words. The vines finally unravel from your wrists and ankles, allowing Ari to catch you and carry you over to the bed. 

You would later learn that the men wouldn’t stay just men, the Beast still lived within, especially when they tasted your sweet blood before the curse was broken.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[be4chywritez]

sickness and health | quinn hughes

quinn hughes x fem!reader

quinn catches a stomach bug and you take care of him.

request: Pls do prompt 15 with Quinn!

prompt: "Don't touch me I'm sick.” “That's okay."

beachy’s masterlist🐚

part two

The gray light of a rainy afternoon filtered through the windows. The lake house was oddly quiet—Luke was staying with friends, and Jack was at his girlfriend’s place. The reason? The walking bacteria cell that was their brother.

You sighed, hearing Quinn gag for what felt like the hundredth time. You raced upstairs, grabbing a bucket that you and Quinn had splayed out around the house. As you entered Quinn’s room, you found him curled up in bed, looking utterly miserable.

“Hey,” you said softly, placing the bucket beside him. “How are you holding up?”

“Like death,” he muttered, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. “You shouldn’t be here. I don’t want you to get sick.”

You walked over and sat down beside him, ignoring his protests. “I don’t care, we agreed in sickness and in health,” you murmured, placing a kiss on his forehead.

Your brow furrowed. “Q, you’re burning up.” He sat up in bed, watching as you rushed into the bathroom. He could hear the water starting. He groaned slightly, his joints hurting as he padded to the restroom.

“What are you doing?” he asked, crossing his arms and leaning up against the door.

“Running you a bath,” you replied, checking the water temperature. “It’ll help with the fever.”

He sighed but didn’t protest further. Allowing himself to relax in the warm water seemed to soothe his aching body, and he leaned back with a contented sigh. You reached over to brush a strand of hair out of his face, and he caught your hand gently.

“Don’t touch me, I’m sick.”

“That’s okay,” you said softly, your eyes filled with concern. “I’m here to take care of you.” His eyes closed in content with your cool touch.

After his bath, you helped him back to bed, making sure he was comfortable before heading downstairs to start cleaning up. Just as you were getting into the groove of disinfecting everything, the door opened, and Luke and Jack walked in, wearing gloves and masks.

“You guys look like Martians,” you said, eyeing them.

“We’re here to help,” Luke said, looking around the place and taking in the dirty dishes in the sink. His UMich blanket was in a ball on the floor. He crouched down, taking a whiff of it, then groaned, holding it away from him.

“Yeah, you might want to put that down, Lukey.” He obliged, dropping the blanket back on the floor.

“This place is a war zone,” Jack muttered, wrinkling his nose.

Luke nodded in agreement. “Seriously, how are you not grossed out by this?” he asked, watching you pick up the blanket off the floor, folding it, and throwing it into a hamper.

You shrugged, smiling slightly. “I’ve got it under control. Quinn’s the one who needs the care right now.”

You heard a groan from upstairs, followed by Quinn regurgitating his lunch. Jack and Luke both groaned.

“Can you go get that bucket?” you asked, not looking up from the dishes. Both Luke and Jack pinched their noses.

“You were late,” Jack said, making Luke groan as he walked toward the bedroom.

Luke found Quinn, pale and exhausted, slumped against the bed. He steeled himself, trying not to gag as he picked up the vomit bucket.

Quinn managed a weak smile. “Thanks, Luke. I know it’s gross.”

Luke shook his head head, genuinely concerned. “Don’t worry about it. I just… I hope I find someone as amazing as y/n someday. She’s a beast for handling all this.”

Quinn’s eyes softened, a hint of a smile playing on his lips despite his discomfort. “Yeah, she really is. You’ll find someone, Luke. Just wait.”

Luke nodded, feeling a bit more at ease as he carefully carried the bucket out. “Get some rest, okay? We’ve got this.”

Quinn closed his eyes, the reassurance from his brother making him feel just a bit better. “Thanks, Luke.”

Back downstairs, you continued cleaning with ease, handling the buckets and cloths, making sure everything was spotless. Meanwhile, Luke and Jack worked with exaggerated caution, making sure to avoid any potential contamination.

Quinn had woken up feeling way better than he did a few hours ago, he padded downstairs both Luke and Jack jumping away from him.

“Hey Quinner, how you doing bud,” Jack asked from the other side of the kitchen. You rolled your eyes playfully.

“Much better, thanks,” Quinn replied, though he still looked a bit pale.

Luke glanced at Quinn, then back at you. “Y/n’s been great. I don’t know how she does it.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty incredible,” Quinn said, his voice filled with admiration.

Jack nodded, agreeing. “You’d be a mess without her.”

You smiled at their words, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Thanks, guys. But I couldn’t do it without you helping out too.”

Luke grinned. “Just don’t get too close to us until you’re sure you’re not sick.”

Quinn chuckled weakly. “You’re gonna come take care of her when she gets sick.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Alright, I think we’re done here. Y’all are free to go guys.”

Luke and Jack bid their goodbyes both of them not waiting another second to get out of the house.

Let’s go to bed, Quinn.”

As you laid down Quinn leaned on you slightly, his eyes drooping.

He was already half-asleep, but he opened his eyes when talking to you. “Hey,” he whispered. “Thanks for everything.”

“Of course,” you whispered back, brushing a hand through his hair. “In sickness and in health, right?”

He smiled weakly, his eyes filled with love. “Right.”

You leaned down and kissed his forehead gently. “Get some rest, Quinn. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

He nodded, closing his eyes again as he drifted off to sleep. You watched him for a moment, feeling contentment.

You eventually closed your eyes letting Quinn’s steady breathing lull you to sleep.

[bumblesimagines]

The Beasts of The North

Request: Yes or No

Summary: When Jace travels to the North to meet with the Lord of Winterfell, he expects to meet the well-known Wolf the North. What he didn't expect was a bear residing in Winterfell as well.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, unknown age gap since (Y/N) is early to mid twenties and Cregan is mid twenties, technically not HOTD Cregan personality or appearance wise rip (inspired by Cordeliacordate on Ao3's interpretation of Cregan),

So sorry to Tom Taylor but he is not what I envision when I think of Cregan 😭 I always saw Cregan looking more like Roman Reigns or Alexander Dreymon as Uhtred

~~~

By the time the sun began to rise, Winterfell had already come alive with the hustle and bustle of servants, residents, and villagers coming and going as they began their routines. The mixture of chatter, laughter, occasional yipping of a dog, and the sound of birds singing and squawking floated through the cracked open window, reaching the ears of the two men lying beneath bundles of furs and blankets to keep them warm from the cold. 

"Cregan," (Y/N) sighed, sleep oozing out of him ever so slowly. The bed just felt oh so comfortable and heavenly, enticing him to sleep for a few more hours. There was much to be done, though, and he couldn't allow himself nor Cregan to forget lest they risked an earful from Sara. "The princeling will likely arrive today." 

"Aye," Came the gruff, sleepy response from the lord, his strong arms still coiled tightly around (Y/N) and showing no signs of releasing him so they could both begin their day. Instead of climbing out of bed and preparing himself for the day ahead, Cregan pulled (Y/N) closer to his chest and nuzzled his face against the back of his neck, the fuzz of his beard scratching and tickling him.

(Y/N) pushed his cheek into the soft silk of the pillow beneath his head, savoring the feeling for a moment before he forced himself to sit up and detach from Cregan. One of the furs slipped downward from his chest, exposing his skin to the coldness of the room, though (Y/N) had grown acclimated to the harsh temperature of the North. Cregan made a low rumbling noise of discontentment, his hands blindly searching for his lover but (Y/N) slipped out of bed before Cregan could wrangle him back into his embrace. 

"We wouldn't wish to leave a bad impression on the princeling, would we, Cregan?" (Y/N) spoke teasingly, echoing back the words Sara had told them when they received word of Prince Jacaerys intent to fly out to Winterfell on his dragon. Neither of them were fools, however, and they'd rapidly pieced together the reason why when they received word of the boy prince's uncle, Aegon Targaryen, being crowned in King's Landing over Rhaenyra Targaryen. War was brewing, and both sides needed an army before it could spill over. 

"Mm," Cregan responded, grunting softly as he pushed himself up against the headboard, the wood creaking beneath the weight of his sturdy back. His black hair had loosened free from the bun he'd wrapped it in before bed, resting and brushing over his shoulders in a mess of bedhair he'd have to brush before they broke their fast. His gray eyes watched him, lingering on (Y/N)'s nether regions with a curl of his lips until they were covered up by pants. "Starks never forget their oaths. We hardly need to be reminded of 'em."

"I detest the idea of a royal guest as much as you do, Cregan, especially one raised to believe in the Seven." (Y/N) reminded him, the warmth of the stone floor digging into the bottom of his feet as he crossed the room to close the window, finding himself thankful for whichever Stark had the idea of building the Great Keep over natural hot springs. Through the window frost, he could see those walking around below, preparing for the feast that'd be held in honor of their guest. "But supporting the boy and his mother would be better than supporting the Hightower lot." 

"The boy," Cregan echoed and chuckled breathily, his fingers scratching at his chin before he tugged the furs and blankets off himself and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He rose with a heavy, still exhausted sigh and approached him, an arm wrapping around his shoulder and lips pressing against his temple. "You're hardly much older than him, I hear. Besides, you were once new to Winterfell. Perhaps you can help him get accustomed to how things are around here." 

"What if he's a spoiled brat and I cannot stand to be around him?" (Y/N) groaned softly at the thought and rolled his head back to rest it on Cregan's shoulder. Cregan smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek next, his palm lightly squeezing his shoulder before his thumb rubbed into the exposed skin soothingly. (Y/N)'s eyes flickered away from the roof to study the side of his lover's face. "Or what if I like him enough to entice him into bed, hm? What will you do then?"

Cregan laughed heartily and spun him around to press their chests together, his hands dropping to grasp at (Y/N)'s hips and hold him still. He dipped his head and kissed him properly on the lips, swallowing the mischievous giggle that left (Y/N). He grew back with crinkled eyes and pressed his forehead against (Y/N)'s. "I doubt some little princeling will catch your eye, my darling. He'd likely be the one trying to entice you, even with that attitude of yours." 

"That attitude had you tripping over your own feet to sweep me off mine." (Y/N) lightly jabbed his finger into Cregan's chest, feeling the lord's body shake with another laugh. Cregan didn't bother to deny his words and instead pecked the bridge of his nose, rubbing his hands into (Y/N) hips before pulling away to finally get dressed. 

Following suit, (Y/N) collected the rest of his clothes off the floor and slipped out of Cregan's bedchambers into his own across the hall, discarding the old clothes on the bed and greeting the maids that fluttered in to help him get dressed. The wool fabric pressed and dragged against his skin, the layers of clothing warming his chilly skin in a matter of minutes. By the time he finished, Cregan had dressed too, and together they headed down the hall and down a set of stairs. 

"Good morrow, you two." Sara greeted them from her spot by the table and casted them a glance over her shoulder, little Rickon fastened to her hip with two fingers in his mouth. His big brown eyes turned toward them and brightened, a wide smile breaking out on his chubby face at the mere sight of his father. He looked so much like his mother, Lady Arra Norrey, in certain lights, especially in his gleeful moments.

"Hello, my little pup." Cregan greeted softly when he scooped his young son into his arms, nuzzling his nose into the boy's belly just to hear him crack up with laughter. He freely slumped against Cregan's chest and (Y/N) pressed a fleeting kiss to his small temple, a smile tugging at his lips when Rickon giggled in response. 

"Prince Jacaerys should be arriving soon." Sara reminded them like a mother would her children, turning away once she finished her conversation with two servants to face them. Despite her status as a bastard, Sara took care of things around Winterfell just as much as Cregan and (Y/N) did, perhaps more than them. Her pale blue eyes, nearly the same shade of gray as Cregan's, flickered between the two lovers. "His room will be beside (Y/N)'s. I do hope you'll behave yourselves." 

Their smirks only made her roll her eyes and heave a sigh, her hands smoothing out the bottom of her dress as she sat beside them at the table. (Y/N) dug into his breakfast with eagerness, the subtle ache in his stomach disappearing with each gulp of food and juice until his plate was clean. He dapped at his lips with his handkerchief before brushing the crumbs from Rickon's chin, his eyes softening and a gentle smile spreading across his face. Cregan swooped in to kiss the top of his head, an act those around them hardly batted an eye at. 

"My Lord, My Lady, Ser" Maester Orwen called out when he entered the room, dipping his head in respect and greeting. He shuffled closer to them, his hand brushing over Rickon's head affectionately. "There have been reports of a dragon not far from here, My Lord. It appears our guest will soon be arriving." 

"Thank you, Maester Orwen." Cregan sighed and stood from the table, handing Rickon off to his sister with a kiss to the boy's temple before he motioned with a nod for (Y/N) to come along to greet their new royal guest. (Y/N) grimly realized he never bothered asking for how long the prince would be staying with them and gave a heavy sigh.

Maester Orwen followed the two men out into the chilly morning air, the snow crunching beneath their boots and their heads angled toward the gates. (Y/N) knew very little of Prince Jacaerys apart from the rumors circulating his parentage and the fact he was to be his mother's heir as the eldest son, despite the possibility of being a bastard.

An unfamiliar shriek echoed through the air above them and he tilted his head upward to watch the shadow of a dragon pass overhead in awe. It dipped downward toward the ground beyond the walls around Winterfell, the alarmed shouts of villagers quieting with reassuring calls from the guards around. 

The gates soon parted, a lonesome figure stepping through and making his way toward them. (Y/N) had an image in his head of what the Prince would look like; silver-haired, purple eyes, boyish features, and a snobby attitude known to royals and most nobles. That image promptly shattered when Prince Jacaerys stopped before them. His hair, (Y/N) noted, was a chestnut brown color as were his eyes, two notable Targaryen and Velaryon traits he lacked. He was lanky and still appeared boyish due to his age but his features were hardened and eyes determined. No amount of determination, however, would cover up the trembling of his body. His clothes lacked a layer or two to keep him fully warm from the cold.

"Prince Jacaerys Velaryon," Maester Orwen greeted and bowed, offering him a friendly and welcoming smile despite the glances and disinterest of those around him. A small smile appeared on Prince Jacaerys face, giving a slight dip of his head in greeting before looking back at Cregan and then at (Y/N). He paled a little at the sight of them, despite his reddened face from the cold insistently nipping at it. "May I introduce the Wolf of the North, Lord Cregan Stark of Winterfell, and our trusted master-at-arms, Ser (Y/N) Mormont of Bear Island. I am Maester Orwen, here for whatever you may require."

"Welcome to Winterfell, Prince Jacaerys," Cregan spoke, voice devoid of most emotions and face largely stoic. (Y/N)'s lips curled at the way Prince Jacaerys adams apple bobbed nervously. His lover was an imposing man, he knew that well. Naturally tall and burly with a piercing stare that sent shivers down even the most hardened of knights. What had most men cowering only made (Y/N) swoon. 

"T-Thank you, Lord Cregan." Prince Jacaerys cleared his throat. "It is a pleasure to meet the both of you. I am here, as you must know, on my mother's behalf-"

"Speaking of politics already?" (Y/N)'s head lolled to the side and Prince Jacaerys eyes flickered back to him, his cracked lips parting and closing. Cregan's features morphed, his lips tugging into a grin and eyes crinkling with amusement as he turned to eye (Y/N). "Straight to the point type of lad, aren't you?"

"What Ser (Y/N) means to ask-" Maester Orwen sent him a swift scolding glare. "-is if you require anything, My Prince. We could have a meal or hot bath readied for you, if you'd like to rest after a long... flight." 

Prince Jacaerys lips pressed together, uncertainty written on his face but he looked away when (Y/N) arched a brow at him. "A hot bath sounds lovely, thank you. I, uhm-" He swiped his tongue over his lips and shuffled his feet, his composure rapidly disappearing the moment Maester Orwen stepped away to instruct some servants. "As I was saying, I am here as my mother's envoy to garner support for her cause and claim. Many years ago-" 

"My father, Lord Rickon Stark bent the knee and accepted Rhaenyra Targaryen as the heir to the Iron Throne." Cregan finished for him and spared a glance over his shoulder before he turned to (Y/N), his eyes shimmering with amusement. His hand came to rest along (Y/N)'s midback and (Y/N)'s eyes narrowed. "My love," (Y/N) swore he heard the prince choke quietly on his spit. "Since Prince Jacaerys will be residing in the room next to yours, you should show him the way." 

"There are servants for that, Cregan." (Y/N) squinted at him, the mischief on his face clear as day. "I have squires and wards to train, not to mention-"

"All that can wait for the Prince, can it not?" Bastard.

A brief cheeky grin graced Cregan's handsome features and he leaned in to kiss the area between (Y/N)'s eyebrows, giving his back a pat and nodding to the startled prince before he turned and marched further across the yard to tend to his own duties. (Y/N) watched him go with pursed lips, making a note to himself to get back at him for it later.

"I-"

"Come." (Y/N) ordered sharply, momentarily forgetting the young man before him was royalty and not another clumsy boy he had to shape up. Prince Jacaerys hardly seemed to notice, nearly slipping on the icy stone as his legs quickly moved to follow him into the castle.

(Y/N) led him through the hallways until they returned to the Great Hall, coming to a stop beside Sara and Rickon once more. "Your brother's the worst." He muttered quietly in her ear, earning a soft snort before he turned to the prince. "Prince Jacaerys, this is Sara Snow, Cregan's Stark half-sister. This little lad is Rickon Stark, Cregan's son." 

"Ah," Prince Jacaerys dipped his head in greeting and Sara curtsied as best she could with her nephew in her arms. A wide smile spread across his lips as he took in Rickon, lifting his finger toward the boy and chuckling softly when Rickon wrapped his little fingers around it. "Pleasure to meet you both," Rickon answered in an incoherent babble. 

"I suppose I should show you around since Cregan is..." (Y/N) almost sighed. "Busy."

With Prince Jacaerys proving to be rather obedient and quiet, (Y/N) had little trouble leading him around the castle and showing him the different rooms, halls, and towers connected to it. The prince only piped up to ask questions, mostly regarding the history of Winterfell or about a member of the Stark family until they reached the hall leading to the bedchambers and pushed the door open to Prince Jacaerys temporary room. 

"The bath has already been drawn, Prince, and the belongings you sent ahead have been put away. If you require something and cannot locate anyone else, my bedchambers are to your left and Cregan's bedchambers are across." (Y/N) told him, eyeing the tempting steaming bath before turning to look at the prince. He studied his surroundings curiously. "Is there anything you need as of right now? I have fools to train."

"Are-" Prince Jacaerys cleared his throat once more. "Forgive me if I am overstepping but... are you and Lord Cregan..." He trailed off, the light red color returning to his skin and eyes jumping away from him.

"The Old Gods care not if you lie with someone of the same sex or love them, Prince. I'm sure as a child of the Seven you've been taught differently, but we followers of the Old Gods do not hold the same values." (Y/N) explained simply, watching the prince slowly nod. "Cregan and I are lovers, and if that bothers you, I suggest you deal with it for the duration of your stay." 

"It- It doesn't bother me," Prince Jacaerys assured quickly.

"Good." (Y/N)'s lips dragged into a small smirk. "Welcome to Winterfell, then." 

[mintymarabell]

Platonic yandere elder yautja.

An elder whose strong and powerful in status but not fertile, his seed never taking so he never had children of his own.

He would beat himself up over it all the time, thinking he was not good enough.

He’ll be on earth just wondering around aimlessly when he sees you, a teenager who was crying in the woods.

He would watch curiously, wondering what you were doing alone.

When you get up and leave after composing yourself he’ll follow after you, when you lead him to a house that has two ooman pairs having a yelling match inside he somewhat connects the dots.

He will watch over you over the months, noticing the neglect in the household. He’s so jealous, your parents barely pay you any mind or even care for you and yet he’d do it in a heartbeat.

Maybe one time you’re in your room curled up in bed trying to sleep through your parents continuous arguing when your window slowly slides open, you don’t notice until there’s a big thump and suddenly something is in your room.

You go to scream but a large hand is cupped over your mouth to quiet the sound.

When you wake up again you’re in a different room, one much bigger than your previous one the bed huge and comfortable with alien soft sheets and silk pillows.

A small tray of breakfast sat on the nightstand to your left still warm.

He won’t reveal his scary appearance to you, living as a ghost in his own home as he provided for you better than your parents ever had.

Maybe one day, after a few months of living in the strange very futuristic like house you explore, walking around the grand halls, looking into the various bedrooms, some being children others being for an adult, you simply marveled at the design.

Maybe you walk outside to see the scenery and notice the different colors of the sky, the amber atmosphere.

You wander farther from the house, towards the pristine gates and walk out of them as you look at this ‘new world’ in hopes of feeding your growing curiosity.

Maybe you venture too far, finding you had zoned out and was now in the woods with faint growling and the once twin suns now settling into a dark sky.

Your breathing hitched as you looked around frantically trying to remember where it is you came from, then suddenly something hops from the tree, it is some beast, clearly not from earth.

The beast stalking towards you as it readied itself to attack and then it lunged, you closed your eyes and waited but it never came.

Instead a loud crash could be heard as something ran into the beast, you opened your eyes and seen the beast but nothing else.

It was as if the beast was fighting its imaginary friend, though in this case enemy.

The beast had brawled with the other invisible being, at some point in the fight the beast had landed a hit, the sound of flesh tearing and electric sparks then its invisible cloak was unveiled.

You had been inching back this whole time, slowly but surely won the race right? Though as you inched back, you noticed the humanoid was beginning to slack. Noticing a healing wound on its shoulder blade being the issue of its delay.

You had decided it was clearly on your side so you picked up a size ably sharp stick. Beginning to walk back toward the fight just as the beast had pinned the your possible new friend; you stabbed it right through the throat.

The humanoid pushed off the now dead carcass, standing up slowly. This had given you a moment to look at him truly. He had four mandibles with sharp fangs on the end, along with long dread like hair that was graying. After the awkward pause he had ruffled your hair and pushed you back in the direction of the house you had stayed at.

It had been a few months, your new father now walking around with no invisible cloak. He was in short terms, protective. If you had went out he went along and never let you go far. It appeared he lived alone, in a massive home.

You could get used to it, though you hoped it wasn’t forever it’d be like this.

[naffeclipse]

naff plz, I'm weak and and I hunger 👀

Turns out I am too. This was supposed to only be 500 words. Now we're here smh

Minnow

Reader x Shark!Eclipse

Content Warning for suggestive themes.

———

You have a problem on your hands.

Sitting on the edge of a sea-salt slick rock in your dark wetsuit, the ocean breeze sweeping your hair into tangles, you stare. A whale carcass sits heavy and rotting. The edges of the waves roll up on the flat, tan sand of your seaside home and tug at the giant, dead beast, but one fin is only loosened slightly before the water returns without its passenger. The scent of a festering body hangs in the air and coats the back of your throat.

A sharp fin cuts through the wave farther from shore. You glance at it, but whatever fish swims near dives below, out of sight.

You turn back to the very big problem. It will ruin the beach for the tourists. You’re a council member only in name—more of a glorified intern, despite your best efforts to not only fetch coffee. Whenever there’s a job that doesn’t involve sitting inside around a table, away from the heat and humidity of a summery, oceanic day, it’s pushed into your lap to fix.

You have no idea how to remove a 40-ton whale from the sands.

Your right leg slips off of the rock and your foot splashes into the sea. Before you can fix your stance, tug your knees up to balance on the rock while the tide splashes at the base of your little watery perch, a clawed hand seizes your ankle.

A sharp gasp rips from you. Ripped downwards, you brace yourself, screwing your eyes shut as the ocean water rushes up your body, but something plants itself on either side of you. Pinned to the rock, you shiver at the fresh touch of the sea lapping at your ribs. Your feet barely find the purchase of sand. A shadow falls over your eyelids, and a soft hum spins through the breeze.

“Hello,” a voice growls deep, rumbling through the air and brushing against it. “Might I ask why you’re frowning so much?”

You slowly pry open one eye, then the other before your jaw loosens in wonder and fear. 

A creature looms above you. His head is wide and flat, colored a dark gray. Strange cartilaginous fins frame his head in a crown of sharp, red, and black spikes. The moment you gawk, he flashes a dangerous row of curved teeth with serrated edges. The very breath catches in your throat while his arms, sleek and barred with burnt red stripes, hold you against the sleek rock. 

Your eyes fall down his body. His lithe frame melts from a very human torso into the body of a predatory fishtail—a shark. His underside is pale gray while his back is dark, bearing a wicked dorsal fin with the same barred patterns down his sides in burnt red. Just below the surface, you catch a swishing of a caudal fin. Long and pointed, it cuts through the ocean as if it were mere seafoam.

“What—who are you?” you sputter. Your hands hold defensively to your chest while you return to his unearthly but memorizing face. His eyes burn low in a sharp orange light. 

“I am Eclipse.” He lifts one hand from the rock. A dark talon tips his long, thin finger before he hooks your chin, tilting your head up. The sharp edge teases your skin with how easily it can slice you. You swallow apprehension. His eyes fall to your throat, his teeth flashing in the sunlight. “And I asked you a question.”

Your pulse picks up in your ears, beating double time against the tide. What did he ask you? The echo of his words returns. You slowly form an ‘O’ with your lips.

“I’m not, um, frowning?” Certainly not now, if the terror you hide behind says anything. You curl your fingers into tight balls. “Were you watching me?”

The strange man-fish chuckles a low sound—as if you’re very silly. “I was. You’re quite a lovely sight, perched on this rock like a seabird. But you seemed troubled. You still do.”

He slowly forces your head to tilt this way and that, moving you under the sunlight while he examines you with his piercing gaze. You let him, utterly, horribly confused about how this all came to be. Does he intend to devour you like a tiger shark? Or is it a very strange ‘hello’?

A hum of satisfaction arises, but he is no less intrigued by what he’s captured in his hand. You try to turn away but he holds firm and clicks his tongue.

“There is still something vexing you” he concludes, “Tell me, so I might make it right.”

You almost level a look at him, as if the very interesting occurrence of a fish-man grabbing you and pulling you into the water isn’t vexing enough, but mind your manners. His claws press along your mouthbone. Your heart beats heavy in your chest, against the splashing waters, but your eyes flick towards the beach. Eclipse follows your gaze with narrowed eyes.

“Dead whale,” you say, hoping he doesn’t decide to cut your face with his claws, “I need it off the beach, but, um, I’m not sure how to do that.”

“Oh,” he laughs, and you stop to soak in the echo of his shoulder, melodic and growling. “Is that all? A simple solution, minnow, but I do ask for a small token in return for my help.”

You stiffen. A skip in your chest sends a coldness into your legs and fingertips. You look down, staring at the thin corded strength of his chest, the lissom power of his tail, and how easily he could drag you out to sea should you not give an answer he wants to hear.

How could a herculean task be so easy in his eyes? You almost don’t believe him.

“Minnow,” he rumbles softly and forces your head up higher to capture your gaze. You shiver in the brine. “It’s nothing to be afraid of. I will help you, and you will give me what I desire.”

Desire can be very, very dangerous.

“I’m not giving you people’s souls or whatever,” you say firmly, even if your eyes grow wet with terror. 

Eclipse swipes a thumb along your cheek, wetting it with sea salt and foam. His grin stretches wide until you see into his massive jaws.

“What use would I have of souls?” His tongue swipes over his row of serrated teeth. “No, I want something much more tangible.”

He squeezes your mouth softly until your lips are pushed into a pout, and realization jolts straight into your stomach. A dreaded blood rush fills your cheeks. You burn. Eclipse tilts his head, his eyes widening, flashing with the hunger of a shark in the depths.

“What do you want?” you whisper, your eyelids trembling as you nearly squeeze them shut again.

He leans in closer. You smell the sharp tang of iron and salt upon his breath.

“Seven kisses.”

Your eyes fly open, relieved and mortified. Unfurling your fingers, you try to shake your head but your jaw remains caught in the vice of his grips.

“Seven?” You sputter before spewing, “That’s—that’s a lot!”

“It’s a perfectly natural amount for the task I will undertake for you.” He draws the pad of his finger down the line of your jaw. A shiver overtakes your shoulders as you close your eyes for a heartbeat.

“And if I say no?” you ask quietly, watching him in the way you fear a minnow might watch a shark. 

He leans back. The corners of his mouth pull down.

“Then we shall both be disappointed, and I will leave.”

Your mind whirls at the thought—an easy ‘no’, but you don’t know if you trust him. Why would he do such a task? Why kisses of all things? Will he turn you into a fish after the seventh one? Will he devour you when you get too close? 

“How do I know you’re not going to eat me or down me or something?” you ask, pushing past the rattle in your throat.

Eclipse chuckles but there’s much less mirth in the echo, and your gut twists within you.

“If I wanted to take a bite out of you, I would have forgone the introductions.” His smile spreads wide. 

A cold, unflinching intuition within you agrees.

“Got it,” you murmur. “Just, uh, no biting, okay?”

He looms over you. His claws take you by the shoulders and hold you tighter to the rock. Your lungs freeze. Your rapid pulse fills your head in the same way you hear ocean waves when you hold a seashell up to your ear. 

“Minnow, do you accept my price?” Eclipse’s thumbs rub circles into your wetsuit.

He did not agree to your no-biting rule. Still, you swallow roughly and try to find some sensibility in agreeing to give a fish man kisses. The dead whale will be gone if Eclipse is true to his word. And it’s only a kiss—seven of them.

You press your lips together and close your eyes.

“I do,” you say. You open them again. “How do you want to do this? All at once or—”

A sharp flick of a tail pushes Eclipse against you. A bleeding blush takes over your face, pinned between him and the rock as he gathers your face in his hands. He holds your gaze, orange eyes blazing like a sunset. Your chest heaves. Water laps up against you as his pinky finger brushes against your throat. 

“Slowly,” he answers, voice lowering into a husky growl, “One by one.”

Your insides bubble at the sight of his teeth. A tumble of your heart knocks into your ribs. He lowers himself closer until you close your eyes. The ocean tugs at both of you but he keeps you firmly in place. His lips touch yours. A taste of something sharp and brackish spills into your mouth and you make a soft sound in the back of your throat. He purrs. The vibration touches you before he gently pushes and pulls against your lips like the tide. He gives and he takes, swallowing your affection. A hungry touch of his tongue swipes the inside of your mouth. You find your hands falling to his shoulders and holding on as if upon a lifesaver, lost out at sea.

Then he unhooks his jaws and frees you. A taste of sea salt remains on your tongue. You gasp softly, realizing how much fresh air you crave after his kiss. Your head falls back against the rock as your lungs heave. He still holds above you, tall and towering, but content.

Eclipse's eyes are half-lidded, gentle in his gaze as his claw gently brushes your bottom lip. His tongue swipes back over his own teeth as if savoring the taste of your flesh.

“Thank you for the kiss,” he rasps. “The whale carcass will be gone come morning light.”

“Okay,” you give, still lost in the salty haze the impression of his mouth left on you, “What about the other kisses?”

“Soon, minnow,” he gives with a sharp grin. “I will call upon you soon.”

He takes you by the hips. You gasp, your hands flying to his arms as he lifts you effortlessly out of the water and sets you back upon the rock. You sit, dripping in your stupor, eyes wide at how easily his palms fit over your waist. He rests his talons on the slick edge. His orange eyes upturn as he smiles one last time.

“Goodbye,” he growls gently. His teeth flash as he slips down, and you catch the full length of his impressive tail and sharp, pointed fins. A sharp flip of his body turns him in an instant, the water bending to his whim, and he slowly swims. The tip of his dorsal carries over the waves until at last, he disappears into the depth.

And you are left sitting with a pink heat in your face and a ghostly tang behind your teeth. His kiss leaves you spellbound.

You have an entirely new problem on your hands.

[zarvasace]

LU fan... theory? Headcanon? LU/LoZ Idea!

The physical effects of the Hero's Spirit is less about the blond hair and more about heterochromia.

It starts with the first Hero, who was born with entirely natural heterochromia. The goddess Hylia spoke fondly of them—green like the earth, blue like the ocean. She was so fond of them, in fact, that this became a folkloric trait: one blue eye indicates a heroic soul, whether actually a true Hero or not.

Sky's one blue eye and one gray one got him into the Knight's Academy—everyone assumed he'd be a powerful warrior, though the pattern of Heroes wasn't quite established yet.

Four's eyes would have been brown, but he was born with one blue. At his split, the blue eye changed colors to, of course, green, red, blue, and violet. Now when he combines, that eye turns gray. The brown is consistent though!

Time used to have a bright green eye, but that one faded when whatever it was happened. This is where the Hero's Spirit pattern was established, so heterochromia began to be romanticized/feared here, depending on the timeline.

Because I love the idea of Sheikah-heritage Legend, his "genetics" eye is red. The one blue eye and possibility he may be a Hero may have influenced a possible exodus from the castle in those sibling AUs.

Hyrule is just fey. The yellow eye gets him more attention than the blue one.

Twilight's heterochromia is subtle. Not everyone who meets him even notices. But it might give a slightly new meaning to "blue-eyed beast." It doesn't change how Ordon sees him, but it may have changed how his family before saw him.

Wild's, on the other hand, is really obvious, and may have contributed to him being chosen as a champion too young. When he goes undercover, he uses an eyepatch on one or the other just for the disguise.

Wind actually didn't start out with heterochromia! He had two very dark blue eyes, until he assembled the triforce. The magic got him and deemed him a Hero. When he uses an eyepatch to keep one eye in the dark to switch between light and dark more easily, he covers the lighter one.

Warriors was the opposite—born with such a bright blue eye that nobody was surprised at him being a Hero. He kind of prefers his hazel one, but it gets overshadowed.

[bunnyreaper]

johnny is the wolf plushie that watches over your bed—but is he something more?

(18+/MDNI, plushophilia, wolf!shifter, mild a/b/o, mentions of blood.

part of my plushie-verse, and definitely with @iciclesses in mind <3)

it was a random tuesday in june when he turned up on your doorstep—the most precious little wolf puppy plushie that probably has ever existed, at least in your eyes.

his brown-gray fur is silky smooth, with the journey in the post smoothing the hair atop his head into a perfect peak, you don't have the heart to smooth it down, as he just looks so precious with it. his sapphire eyes sparkle brightly and his mouth is stitched into a little smile. there's a note in the package detailing his journey and the coincidences that led him to you. How your dear friend had got invited to a car boot sale at the last minute, had happened upon the wolf plushie as they bought something else and the seller had passed him over with "free to a good home".

your friend immediately knew he belonged with you, and the bond you formed was instant. you rushed out to get him his own collar after just a few days, officially making him your pup.

the wolf was the loyal guard dog of your bed and your dreams, always there watching you and the other plushies that lived in your bed. some nights he was never out of your clutches, cuddled close to you all warm and cosy—other nights he kept watching over the bed, his presence making you feel safe despite the fact he was decidedly not real.

one night, for the first time since getting your pup, you spend the night away from home. you'd felt so bad leaving him behind while you went for your sleepover, but knew you couldn't bring him with you. so you'd kissed him on the forehead, set him on your pillow, and headed out for your night of fun, trying to cast him from your mind—after all, you shouldn't feel so attached to a plushie, right?

that night your rest was fitful, plagued by nightmares. vague figures chased you down, and the only relief you found was when a wolf came to your rescue. you recognise its sparkling blue eyes and familiar fur, yet its form is so different. no longer a sweet-faced pup, but a giant, protective beast—snarling and attacking those who chased you.

the wolf ravaged each attacker and yet… once you were safe, its aggression melted, as it stalked towards you, head bowed making it look respectful, despite the blood dripping from its maw. you know you should be scared of such a beast, and yet you know him—he's your wolf.

he nuzzles into you, surrounding you in his soft fur and warm embrace—covering you in his scent and marking you as his. your body can't help but react to the closeness, the intimacy, as you shiver with need. as both you and the wolf begin to calm, you feel his body shift, back to a man. all thick muscles littered with scars and dark hair—you feel his naked body pressed against yours, and yet as you're about to turn, you wake.

the dream leaves you more hot and bothered than your sleepover, and you find it hard to face your plushie when you return home, knowing the dream has twisted your innocent little plushie into an object of desire and lust. you nuzzle him to your neck, just as he had in the dream, and imagine what kind of mark he would leave on your neck.

over the coming weeks and months, the dreams continue. your wolf protects you, defends you, follows you, and keeps you safe. he's a constant, and you find yourself growing mentally and physically closer to him whether it's in wolf or man form.

the man behind the wolf slowly reveals himself, and he has the same blue eyes and protective stare, with a wicked grin and the same tuft of hair. you grow addicted to his touch, to the feeling of his strong body curled into yours, the feeling of his teeth on your skin, and the sublime stretch when he finally mounts you.

your waking moments grow a little emptier, as you find yourself lost to the feeling that comes with your dreams.

you find yourself distracted and forlorn one night, having been dragged from the comfort of your bed to a bar in town—one that's far too busy and far too loud, and filled with people that make you feel unsafe. you try to dance in peace with your friends, but find it hard to let loose with strangers grinding into you and trying to make a move—it's tiring trying to shoo off each new body that appears and tries to get close to you.

and then relief comes, in the form of a booming scottish voice fighting for your honour, asserting that they need to get out of your personal space. calm floods you instantly, and you turn to face your protector—only to sparkling blue eyes and a face you most definitely recognise.

[dee-writes-anime]

I'm Here, I'm Always Here

FEATURING Shoto Todoroki x Reader

SUMMARY Shoto can't take it anymore, good thing you are always willing to take good care of your icyhot sweetheart.

CONTENT WARNINGS fluff, Shoto being taken care of like he deserves, an excuse for me to wash my boys hair T-T, hurt/comfort, Shoto needs a hug PLEASE HUG HIM OML

AUTHORS NOTE this is not the BakuDeku slow burn that I've been working on the past week, unfortunately. I promise I am still working on it, it's just a BEAST of a fic and I am still not done writing it. So, instead of continuing in my silence, I decided to share this Shoto fic I've been sitting on for a FAT minute. <3

“You’ve worked so hard, love,” you breathed, pressing a soft kiss to his wet forehead. “So, so hard.” 

Shoto Todoroki is sitting on the floor of your shower, curled into himself, trembling violently. His knees are drawn tight against his chest, and his head is buried deep between his crossed arms, tucked into the wet skin of his legs. The water pounds mercilessly on his back, scalding hot, the sound of it a steady hiss against the tile as steam swirls like smoke in the air. It clings to the room in suffocating waves, thick enough to feel like it’s pressing down on him, drowning him with every strained breath. The water pelts his cold skin, too hot and too harsh, but he doesn’t move. He just rocks slowly, back and forth, shaking with each shallow inhale. 

You hadn't been home, hadn’t heard the news. You were a world away, caught in the aftermath of a grueling mission in Indonesia, helping local heroes dismantle a quirk-empowered sex trafficking ring. You hadn’t known what had gone down between Shoto and the villain he fought today. You hadn’t known he’d be fighting for his life while you were halfway across the world, in a place that had felt so beautiful, so serene in comparison to what he must have gone through. 

While you’d been basking in the warm Indonesian sun, calling him every night to talk, laugh, share silly stories, Shoto had been here, battling something far darker than either of you could have anticipated. You would stay on the phone with him for hours, sometimes dozing off mid-conversation, your voices filling the quiet voids of each other’s days. But today, today you hadn’t been able to answer. 

You’d been on a plane, finally heading home after days of tension and exhaustion. The mission was done; you had succeeded in catching the ring leaders, and the police were making their arrests. But it wasn’t over for Shoto. 

He had stayed at your apartment while you were gone, taking care of Mr. Wellbottom, your moody, gray tabby. Shoto had taken the task without hesitation, even though you’d thanked him a thousand times, feeling guilty for asking him to go out of his way. But Shoto had only smiled, brushing off your offers of repayment, telling you it was no trouble at all. The truth, however, was that Shoto preferred it here. Your apartment, small and cluttered as it was, was warm—unlike the empty coldness of his own space. Here, everything smelled like you—soft, comforting, familiar. He’d found himself sinking into the warmth of it, into the messy piles of books, your worn-out blankets, and even the prickly affection of Mr. Wellbottom. 

Because here, in your space, Shoto could pretend, just for a little while, that he was more than just your close friend. More than just the boy who kept you company and helped take care of your cat. Here, he could pretend he belonged. 

But today, the weight of everything had become too much, and all the warmth of your apartment, of your affection, couldn’t hold back the storm brewing inside him. He loved you more than anything in the world, more than he could ever say, which was why he had resigned himself to being just this—just your closest friend. Because losing you, risking what you had by asking for more, was something he couldn’t bear. So, he stayed quiet, enduring, grateful for whatever piece of you he could keep. 

The villain Shoto had fought today was unlike any other—someone who could take the deepest, darkest corners of a person's mind and twist them until reality blurred into something grotesque. He wasn’t a stranger to this villain, not after the many run-ins he’d had in his relentless hunt to stop him. Shoto had endured before, forced to relive the bitter memories of his father, the abuse, the cruelty that had shaped so much of his childhood. And then, as if that weren’t enough, the villain had dredged up the image of his brother—his death, and later, the painful fight against him. But even those memories, awful as they were, Shoto had withstood. 

Today, however, had been different. 

This time, the villain had reached deeper, pulling on a thread of Shoto’s mind that was too precious to tamper with. He had taken you. The memory of your warmth, your laughter, your soft presence that had become Shoto’s solace—and twisted it into something horrific. 

In the vision the villain conjured, Shoto found himself standing in your small, familiar kitchen. The tiled floor beneath him, a dull, faded yellowish hue, felt so real. Too real. And there, lying crumpled on the ground, was you. Blood—thick and horrifyingly red—leaked from a deep gash in your abdomen, pooling on the floor and staining the tiles beneath you. Shoto's heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he dropped to his knees beside you. His hands, shaking uncontrollably, grabbed the first thing he could find—the knit blanket you always draped across the back of the couch. The same one he had used just days before to coax Mr. Wellbottom into curling up with him for a late-night picture. 

But now, that blanket was being pressed against your wound, its soft cream fabric soaking through with the vivid, sickening color of your blood. The warmth that had once been your safety net, the thing that reminded him of you every time he wrapped it around himself, was now drenched in the memory of your loss. 

The image wouldn’t leave him. 

No matter how much he blinked, no matter how hard he tried to force himself back into reality, the memory the villain had warped stuck in his mind like a jagged shard of glass. He could still see your lifeless form, still feel the weight of the blood-soaked blanket in his trembling hands. It was too vivid. Too visceral. 

The villain knew exactly what he was doing, attacking Shoto’s weakest point. He had toyed with Shoto's mind, playing his memories like a puppet on strings, twisting them until every bit of hope, every ounce of warmth, turned to something grotesque. You were Shoto’s anchor, the light in the darkness of his life, and to turn that into something filled with blood and pain—that had broken him in ways nothing else ever had. 

When Shoto had finally snapped out of it, it had been too late. The villain was gone, disappeared into the chaos, and Shoto was left kneeling on the ground in the middle of the battlefield, still shaking from the aftershocks of the warped vision. His teammates had tried to help him, tried to call out to him, but he couldn’t hear anything but the sound of your blood dripping onto the cold kitchen floor. He could feel his own heart hammering against his ribs, threatening to tear itself apart from the inside. 

And now here he was, in your shower, trying and failing to wash the memory away. He had come back to your apartment because it was the only place that felt remotely safe, remotely real. But even here, surrounded by the things that usually comforted him, he couldn’t escape it. The scalding water beat down on his back, punishing him, as if he could burn the image out of his mind. But nothing helped. Nothing could erase the sight of your body, limp in his arms, as the life drained out of you in that twisted vision. 

When he heard your soft voice, it was as though the world tilted back into focus for the first time since the nightmare began. It started with a gentle gasp, a sound so quiet he might’ve missed it if he weren’t so desperate to hear something real. Then came the hurried footsteps, the soft padding of your feet against the floor growing louder as you rushed toward the bathroom. The water stopped abruptly, the harsh, scalding heat suddenly replaced by the cool air around him, and then—your hands. Your hands, warm and steady, were threading through his soaked hair, each stroke slow and deliberate, as though grounding him back into the present. 

But Shoto flinched at the contact, his breath catching in his throat. Was this real? Could this be another cruel trick, another illusion the villain had planted to break him further? He wasn’t sure, couldn’t be sure—not after what he had seen. 

And then he smelled it. 

Vanilla and cashmere, the scent you always wore, the one Mina endlessly teased you about. That familiar, comforting fragrance filled his senses, and something deep inside him cracked open. It was you. The scar on your palm, the one from that quirk accident back in high school, scraped lightly against his skin as your fingers combed through his hair, the faintest of rough edges that confirmed it. No illusion could replicate the way your presence felt—how solid, how real it was. 

It was you. 

The dam inside him broke, and before he could stop himself, a sob tore from his throat, raw and desperate. His body moved before his mind could catch up, clinging to you, burying his face against your chest as the sobs came faster, his body wracked with tremors he could no longer suppress. Water soaked through your sweater, dampening your leggings, but you didn’t care. Your arms wrapped around him tightly, pulling him closer as you whispered soft, soothing words into his ear. 

“I’m here,” you murmured, your voice steady, grounding him. “You’re safe, Shoto. Everything’s going to be okay.” 

He could feel your heartbeat against his cheek, strong and steady, each thud an anchor that pulled him out of the nightmare and into the present. You were real. You were here, holding him close, and for the first time since the mission, the suffocating weight in his chest loosened, just a fraction, as your warmth began to chase the cold from his bones. 

After what felt like minutes—or maybe hours; he couldn’t tell—of you simply holding him, your warmth wrapped around him like a lifeline, you shifted. Slowly, you stood, your movements careful and deliberate, as if afraid to pull away too fast. You reached for the shower knob, turning the water back on, this time to a much gentler temperature. The scalding heat from before was replaced by a soothing warmth that cascaded down his back, easing the tension in his muscles. 

Without saying a word, you grabbed the bottle of shampoo from the cubby—a fancy brand you always scolded him for trying to use when he stayed over. He could almost hear your playful voice in his head, telling him he wasn’t allowed to touch the ‘good stuff.’ But now, you weren’t teasing. You were quiet, focused, as you squeezed a generous amount into your palm and began to gently massage it into his scalp. 

Your fingers moved with care, threading through his hair in slow, circular motions. Each touch was gentle, deliberate, as if you were trying to wash away more than just the dirt and grime of the day. Shoto closed his eyes, letting himself fall into the sensation, the rhythmic motion of your hands calming the storm inside him. The scent of the shampoo—familiar and soft, just like everything else about you—filled the air, wrapping him in its comforting embrace. 

You worked the shampoo into every strand, massaging his scalp until his hair was thoroughly coated in suds. Each pass of your fingers through his mismatched hair felt like a promise—unspoken, but deeply felt. You weren’t going anywhere. You were still here, taking care of him in the only way you knew how. 

And for the first time that night, as you stood there with him, washing away the pain of the day, Shoto felt like he might be able to breathe again. 

After finishing with the shampoo, your hands moved with the same careful tenderness, reaching for the conditioner. You uncapped the bottle, the familiar scent wafting into the air, and squeezed a dollop into your palm. The water flowed in a soft cascade over Shoto’s back, creating a calm, steady rhythm in the background as you worked the conditioner through his hair. 

Your fingers glided through the wet strands, smoothing them gently. As you massaged the conditioner into his scalp, your voice broke the quiet. 

“I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a long time,” you began, your voice low and soft. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Shoto.” 

The words hung in the air, blending with the sound of water pattering against the tile. Shoto didn’t react at first, still processing everything. But you didn’t stop, your fingers working through his hair with care as you continued. 

“I don’t know when it started, really. I think it was sometime in high school, maybe even before that. You were always so strong, so quiet, but… you carried so much. I remember that day during our first year, when you told us about your father. About your family. You tried so hard to stay strong, to push everything down like it didn’t matter. But I saw how much it hurt you.” 

You paused for a moment, lost in the memory. You could still see it so clearly—the way Shoto had stood there, stoic and composed, while the weight of his words hung heavy in the air. But behind those mismatched eyes, you had seen something else: the vulnerability he never let anyone else see. It had been in that moment you realized just how much you cared about him. 

“And then… we got closer. We became friends,” you said, working the conditioner into his hair with slow, careful motions. “I would stay up late thinking about how brave you were. How strong. You didn’t let the things that had happened to you define who you were, and that’s what made me fall in love with you even more.” 

Shoto remained quiet, but you could feel the way his breathing had changed—slower now, steadier. You didn’t know if he was processing your words or just lost in the comfort of the moment, but it didn’t matter. You needed to say this, even if he didn’t respond. 

“And when we graduated and became pro heroes, I thought I’d let those feelings go. I thought maybe they’d fade with time. But they didn’t. Every time I saw you fight, saw you push yourself to your limits, I’d fall a little harder. You’re so strong, Shoto. You’re so brave. Even when the world tries to break you down, you keep going.” 

You paused, your fingers stilling for a moment in his hair as you thought back to all the times you’d watched him from a distance, your heart swelling with pride and admiration. 

“Like today,” you continued, voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what happened out there, and you don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. But I know how strong you are. I know how hard you fight, even when things get bad. You’re the bravest person I know, Shoto.” 

Your hands moved again, gently untangling the strands of his hair as you rinsed out the conditioner. The water ran over his head, carrying the suds away, and you stood there in silence for a few moments longer, letting the weight of your words settle between you. 

And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, you leaned in close to him, your lips brushing against his damp hair. 

“You’ve worked so hard, love,” you breathed, pressing a soft kiss to his wet forehead. “So, so hard.” 

The word slipped out—love—and it felt so natural, so right, that you didn’t even hesitate. You weren’t sure if he heard it, but you didn’t care. You meant every word. Shoto had been fighting for so long, and all you wanted was for him to know how much he meant to you. How proud you were of him. 

You stood there for a while, the water continuing to run as you ran your fingers through his hair, soothing the tension that had gripped him for so long. 

As you rinsed the conditioner from his hair, the soft hiss of water filling the room, Shoto shifted slightly beneath your hands. His head tilted back just a fraction, and for the first time since you had come home, he spoke. 

His voice was barely above a whisper, fragile and hesitant, as if he were afraid the words might break the delicate moment between you. “I… I didn’t know how to tell you,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “For so long, I’ve felt… something. I didn’t understand it at first. But every time I was with you, it was there—this warmth I couldn’t explain.” 

You kept your hands gentle, running your fingers through his hair as the water rinsed away the last traces of conditioner. The soothing rhythm of the water was a backdrop to his quiet confession. 

“I never thought I deserved you,” Shoto admitted, his voice trembling ever so slightly. “You’re always so bright, so warm. You make everything around you feel… alive. And me—I’ve always felt like I’m stuck in this cold, this distance from everyone, like I don’t belong in your world.” 

His eyes closed, the weight of his words seeming to spill out of him now that he had started. “But every time I was with you, it felt like I could finally breathe. Like maybe… maybe I wasn’t so broken after all.” 

Your fingers continued to move through his hair, slow and deliberate, each touch a silent reassurance that you were listening, that you were there. 

Shoto’s breath hitched as he leaned into your touch, letting the water stream down his face as he spoke again, more vulnerable than you had ever heard him. “I didn’t know how to tell you how much I love you. I didn’t want to risk losing you, so I stayed quiet. I thought if I could just be close to you, that would be enough. But… it never was. I wanted more. I wanted you, and it scared me.” 

His voice faltered for a moment, the weight of his confession hanging between you like the mist in the air. “I love you,” he finally whispered, barely audible over the sound of the water. “I’ve loved you for so long. I just… I didn’t know how to say it.” 

The last of the conditioner was gone now, his hair clean and smooth beneath your fingers, but you didn’t pull away. You stayed there, the water running over both of you as you cradled his head in your hands, your heart swelling with every word he spoke. 

Shoto was vulnerable in a way you had never seen before—laid bare, fragile, but so open, so raw. And it was in that moment that you realized just how much this meant to him, how much he had been holding back for all these years. 

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “You don’t have to be scared anymore, Shoto. I’m here. I’ve always been here.” 

You gently tilted Shoto’s head up, brushing your thumb along his jaw as the water cascaded between you, soft and warm. His eyes fluttered open, the weight of his emotions still lingering in those mismatched irises—one like molten lava, the other like glacial ice. But now, there was something different. Something softer. Something vulnerable. 

Your heart swelled as you leaned in, closing the small gap between you. Your lips met his in a kiss so soft, so tender, it felt like you were sealing all the unspoken words and emotions between you. The kiss was slow, delicate—a moment where everything else faded away. It was just you and Shoto, standing there under the warmth of the water, sharing something you had both waited so long for. 

He kissed you back with a gentle urgency, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real. His hand came up to cup the side of your face, the water from his fingers dripping down your cheek as he deepened the kiss ever so slightly, but still kept it tender, as though he were afraid of breaking the fragile moment between you. 

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless. Your foreheads rested together, the water still trickling over you, but the world had gone quiet, a peaceful silence wrapping around you both. 

You smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of wet hair away from his forehead. “We should get out of here before we both turn into prunes,” you murmured, a teasing lilt to your voice, though your eyes remained full of warmth. 

Shoto blinked, as if snapping out of a dream, and then nodded, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. “Yeah… that might be a good idea,” he said, his voice still hushed, the weight of everything that had passed between you lingering in the air. 

You stood up first, offering him your hand to help him rise from the floor of the shower. He took it, the touch of his fingers against yours sending a soft warmth through your chest. Together, you stepped out of the shower, the cool air of the bathroom a sharp contrast to the warmth you shared inside. 

Grabbing a towel, you wrapped it around Shoto’s shoulders first, gently rubbing his hair dry before handing him another one. He looked at you with an expression so tender, so grateful, that it made your heart ache in the best way. You both changed into dry clothes, the atmosphere between you calm, comfortable—like the two of you had reached a new kind of understanding. 

When you finished, you sat on the edge of your bed, Shoto quietly sitting next to you. The room was dim, the soft hum of the apartment’s heater the only sound between you. You glanced at him, noticing the way his eyes still held traces of exhaustion, but also something lighter—a quiet relief. 

You leaned your head on his shoulder, letting out a content sigh. “You’ve worked so hard, Shoto,” you whispered, echoing the words you had said before, but now they felt even more meaningful. “You don’t always have to carry everything on your own. I’m here.” 

He turned his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I know,” he murmured, his voice steady and soft. “I know now.” 

And for the first time in a long time, Shoto felt a sense of peace settle over him. The weight of the day, the nightmares, the fear—all of it faded into the background as the two of you sat there, sharing the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. 

It wasn’t perfect. But it was simple, and that was more than enough for both of you.  

BONUS:  

As the two of you sat in the peaceful quiet, your head still resting on Shoto’s shoulder, you felt the softest brush of fur against your leg. Before you could react, a familiar weight jumped onto the bed between you. Mr. Wellbottom, your grumpy but loyal cat, had decided to make his presence known. 

The fluffy feline nudged his head against your arm, purring loudly as if to scold you for being away for so long. He then climbed into your lap, curling up into a cozy ball as he pressed himself into your warmth, his tail flicking slightly before settling down. 

You couldn’t help but smile, your hand instinctively going to stroke his soft fur. “I missed you too, Wellbottom,” you said softly, scratching behind his ear the way you knew he liked. 

Shoto looked down at the cat, a fond look in his eyes as he watched the little scene unfold. He reached out cautiously, his hand brushing against Mr. Wellbottom’s back, and to both of your surprise, the cat didn’t protest. Instead, he let out a soft purr, accepting the gentle touch. 

“Looks like someone’s been waiting for you,” Shoto murmured, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. 

You laughed quietly, the sound soft and warm as it filled the room. “He missed his cuddle buddy. But you took good care of him while I was gone, didn’t you?” 

Shoto gave a small nod, his eyes still on Mr. Wellbottom as the cat shifted to press even closer to you, as if making up for lost time. “Yeah, but… I think he was waiting for you. We both were.” 

Your heart melted at those words, and you leaned into Shoto a little more, your fingers absentmindedly petting the content cat in your lap. The three of you sat there, surrounded by a calm that was as comforting as it was rare. 

For the first time in what felt like forever, everything was still. There were no battles to fight, no villains to defeat, no painful memories clawing their way to the surface—just the soft purring of Mr. Wellbottom and the quiet warmth of Shoto at your side. 

“I’m here now,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you nestled into Shoto’s side. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

[batmasc]

Have you ever seen those videos of two dudes on a couch. And they're a little bored. So their hands wander to their pants.

Thinking about that, with a tguy that's not asserting his masculinity yet, maybe he's too afraid upset people by correcting people about who he is. He's hanging out with a frat boy, watching some movie that's fading into the background while he wonders what this guy thinks of him. Tguy's thoughts are pierced through when he hears his buddy groan "Dude, she's so fucking hot, right?" He’s only vaguely looking at the screen, mumbling in agreement.

"I'd love to hit that-" His friend says. The verbiage might have repulsed him but he quickly reckons with the fact that he's sitting with a himbo frat boy, and he's being talked to like one of the guys. Frat boy is lazily running his palm over his gray sweats.

"What're you up to there?" Tguy feels like such a goober for asking, but he's not sure.

Fratboy laughs and continues. "Cmon, we're both dudes here. You never been down bad watching a movie? " Tboy gulps and watches the sweats slip down. "You're a big boy, you know where the door is."

Tguy is ashamed at the pace in which his confusion is turning into arousal. No one has ever talked to him this way. Not long ago, he'd wondered if it was worth transitioning when he was only rewarded for femininity. He's glad he didn't listen to those fears now. His brain is shutting off and he's melting, he only needs to listen to Fratboy right now.

"I take it you're staying. It would be weird if I'm the only one rubbing one out, you know?" Tboy slowly works his way out of his jeans and hopes the dampness on his boxers isn't too obvious. He hesitantly feels around under the slick fabric and finds himself throbbing. Just when his brain almost comes online again with worry, his friend pulls himself out, leaning back on the couch carefree and displaying himself. This time, fratboy looks over and down. He's not hiding his attempts to see through the fabric. He's licking his lips and grunts "You've got more hair down there than me and your thighs are sick, you're a fucking beast, man. In a good way. "

Tguy can't help but shudder at this. He was never encouraged to take pride in these things, but he sees the untamed lust it gives his acquaintance. Fratboy isn't even watching the movie anymore when Tguy pulls down his boxers. He strokes himself with his fingers, tugging like Fratboy does. "I can't even say no homo to this man, but your small dick is so hot. Anyone would fuckin' drool for it. I've never been with a guy but, Dude- I need you to fuck me like a man. "

[targaryen-dynasty]

OF DRAGONS AND WOLVES.

Daemon Targaryen x Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

You and your husband came to Dragonstone on behalf of your nephew Jacaerys, needing your help in the upcoming war of succession. However, you seem to be in need of something entirely different.

WORDS: 2.3 K

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest (uncle and niece), threesome (MMF), p in v, anal, double penetration, fingering, dry humping, breeding, size kink, profanity, jealousy, possessiveness, marking, reader is cregan’s wife, high valyrian

It was the raven from Dragonstone with desperate words written by no less than your nephew Jacaerys that had lured both you and your husband to the impressive castle on the eponymous island. 

While you descended the sky with your green beast, still keeping up with the main column of your servants and maids, and most importantly your husband, the latter chose to accompany your entourage on horseback, never daring to step close enough to your dragon. 

Regarding the reason for your visit, the position you currently were in was more than dangerous, as you had never meant to be pinned between the two men who held more than enough distaste against each other already. 

In front of you knelt your husband, Cregan, the true wolf of the North, and behind you your uncle, Daemon, a hot-blooded dragon that rarely trusted anyone that didn’t share the blood of the dragon. 

Daemon had walked in on you and Cregan, barely sharing more than some fervent kisses in the safety of your provided chambers, yet one or two daring–no, challenging–words of your husband had prompted the Targaryen to dispose any matters at hand and indulge in the pleasures you had offered your husband. 

Back in King’s Landing, your uncle’s visits had always been the ones you had looked forward to most. With Rhaenyra’s departure to Dragonstone with her entourage, court grew more and more boresome, leaving you to the company of your half-siblings and the vipers of the Red Keep. 

But Daemon’s visits always brought a certain tension with him, your encounters limited to longing stares, accidental touches and a lot of unsaid words, and seeing you more or less openly involved with your husband seemed to have snapped any last thread of his already thin resolve. 

The little predicament you had found yourselves in didn’t seem to please your husband at all at first, always being quite possessive of you, but the more you seemed to relax in their proximity, so did he–not without making his claim on you obvious. 

His lips mouthed along your jaw, and eventually settled in the curve of your shoulder, where his teeth sank into your flesh before his lips sucked  a mark into your sensitive flesh. Your wincing caught the blonde’s attention, the scoff he released a stark contrast. 

“Possessive much, pup?” Daemon mocked, and for a second you feared them trading insults at any given moment. Cregan, however, barely drew his head back to meet his counterpart’s lilac eyes, his tongue flicking over the burgeoning bruise while he did so, “Merely reminding her of her place–whose wife she is.” 

Cregan’s gray eyes trailed over your form, watching the way you writhed in his arms the moment Daemon’s skilled fingers snaked around your front to slide between your parted legs, toying with the little bud at the apex of them. Now it was him mouthing along the other side of your neck, and you anticipated him to leave his own mark, though it seemed that something in Cregan’s threatening stare was enough to keep his longing for mischief at bay. 

Perhaps he knew that one wrong step was putting an end to this whole thing straight away, and having lusted after you for years, your uncle was not eager to take the risk, not when his own wife hadn’t touched him in so, so long. 

Daemon’s hand slid into your hair at the nape of your neck, fisting it rather roughly to force your head into his direction. Your lips melted together, and the kiss was nothing short of rough and needy. But you didn’t expect anything else. Daemon seemed as if he had to prove a point, and perhaps he had, but neither you nor Cregan reacted to it. 

Yet that didn’t mean your husband was pleased by the sight of you leaning into the blonde, parting your lips slightly to allow his tongue to slide into your mouth, while his fingers rubbed your bud and never ceasing moans left your throat. Another thing Daemon didn’t dare to do was plunge his fingers into you, even though you wanted it so badly. 

“Sagon iā sȳz riña syt īlva, kessa ao?” he panted against your lips with a smirk that just screamed of smugness, the High Valyrian toppling over them so effortlessly, it had you drooling. You nodded, your lust-blown eyes flickering between his lips and matching pair of purple eyes, seemingly not comprehending a single thing he said. Be a good girl for us, will you? 

But you processed the dangerous growl that came from the wolf in front of you, and you knew better than to test his limits, and his patience. Cregan was a generous lover with very much patience and calmness, and when both things reached their end, it didn’t mean anything good. 

“This cunt is mine to take and claim over and over again,” your husband warned, a sharpness to his tone that was a borderline threat. Daemon raised both his hands in defeat, muttering an ‘all yours’ at him, but instead of whining at the loss of stimulation of his fingers, you charged at your husband, wrapping both arms around his neck, and your lips meeting his in a fervent kiss. They spoke about you as if you weren‘t there, and that sent a thrill down your spine. 

Not anticipating you to seize him, the big wolf wound his muscular arms around your middle, keeping you locked in place while one of his paws brushed from the small of your back down to your arse, slipping two thick digits into your cunt from behind without a warning and any preparations–not that you needed them, being wet enough to have them push in with ease. 

You gasped against his lips at the sudden intrusion, the sound stifled by his tongue licking into your mouth and his arm around your waist tightening. 

Behind you, you finally heard the husky groan of Daemon, indicating that he had fisted his hard cock and stroked himself to the sight of your small frame in the embrace of your bulky husband as he fucked you dumb with his fingers. 

His solid member was nestled snugly between your bodies, and each time you rutted your hips against his hand, the friction it caused against his cock was enough to have him pull back to release grunts and groans. 

“Ready for me?” the brunette asked softly, voice barely above a whisper, and you nodded once again. 

“Use your words, byka perzys,” he said, and the usually smooth tongue was laced with a thick, northern accent. It was charming, and you remembered the evening you two basked in the warmth of the fireplace, lying on the ground merely wrapped in some furs, your legs intertwined, and his flaccid cock still nestled inside of your cunt. He had asked about your ancestors and the foreign tongue, and all but begged you to teach him some basics–the nickname being one of them. Little Flame.  

You licked your lips, “I am ready.” If you weren’t so engrossed in the moment, in your husband’s gentleness, you would have heard the derogatory scoff your uncle released, seemingly unphased by your display of affection.

When your husband tried to move, you stopped him, catching both men’s attention. You looked between them, your eyes not knowing where to settle. “I… I want you… both,” you swallowed, and Daemon was sure he could spill himself right there and then. Even your husband was baffled by your request. 

It was common for Cregan and you to use your other hole every now and then, mostly during your moon’s blood. It wasn’t that your husband was disgusted by your blood coating his member, he wasn’t, but you just did not enjoy it, always worrying about ruining the bed, and even getting embarrassed by it. So, you had suggested for him to try the other hole instead, and after a bit of persuading, he had complied. 

Cregan lay back on the bed, and the only reason he withdrew his fingers from your womanhood was to wrap the used hand around his cock, using your arousal as slick to make it easier for you to take him. You had your hands braced on his broad chest, the dark curls of his chest hair peeking from between your fingers, and hovered your hips above him, until he aligned himself with your entrance.  

You sank down on him, both moaning in unison, and Daemon watched in awe as your cunt enveloped Cregan, sucking him in to the hilt without moving. You were waiting for him. The Targaryen moved to kneel between Cregan’s parted legs, almost a bit too eager, pressing his cock against the crevice of your arse, rutting against it. 

While Cregan’s palms slid around your body to cover the entirety of your arse, gently parting it to give Daemon the perfect view of your unused hole, the other man reached in front of you to drag his fingers through your mound, sliding them around the girth of Cregan’s cock to gather some of your slick. He coated his cock in it just like your husband had done before, and then spat into his palm to spread the liquid over your hole. 

Daemon was eerily silent, too focused on the matter at hand, and only groaned in anticipation when his cock prodded against the rim of your hole. Angling your hips just slightly, you made it easier for him to push in, digging your hands into Cregan’s flesh the moment Daemon breached your hole. 

The man beneath you murmured words of encouragement, something along the lines of ‘what a good girl’ and ‘taking both of us so well’ which made it easier for you to bear the intrusion. 

It was overwhelming for you, especially when Daemon was sheathed inside of you completely, and both their thick cocks filled you to the brim. It had felt different in your thoughts, but it wasn’t uncomfortable either–you just weren’t sure how to move, or even if you were able to move at all.

When you clenched around both of them tightly, they sucked in a sharp breath at the same time, followed by the same, raspy groan, knowing all too well they were doomed to last no longer than two minutes with how tight you were wrapped around them. In any other setting, the similarity would have been amusing, if it wasn’t for you being impaled by them on both ends. 

Both men seemed to notice your apprehension, and knew it was their turn to take over. Cregan moved first, bucking his hips into yours at a slow pace, and after two thrusts of him, Daemon joined, rutting into you. They plunged into you in a steady rhythm, allowing you to adjust to the sensations that overtook your body. 

It felt as if every fiber of you was on fire, adding to the natural fire that flowed through your veins, and bringing you to a point you were certain you could never go back to only taking Cregan and not both at once. 

The feeling of both men filling and stretching you in tandem rendered you a drooling mess, and no words were needed to be exchanged–except for their mutual praises. 

Daemon wrapped his arm around your throat, choking you with his muscles, while his lips pressed against your temple, his hot and heavy breath lighting your skin on fire. The sweat that formed at his brow dripped onto your skin, but you couldn’t care less.

“I shall spill myself inside of you,” your uncle groaned against your skin, announcing his impending peak, and you nodded with your mouth agape, whimpering a pathetic ‘Y… Yes.’

This time around, Cregan didn’t seem to mind the proximity of you and Daemon, too lost in the sight of it all, and merely reaching to cup your bouncing breasts to squeeze them and tease your hardened buds. 

You had trouble breathing, and that combined with the stinging pleasure of Cregan’s hands had you cresting through your peak, coming over you in an ambush. 

Spasming around him, Daemon couldn’t hold himself back any longer with your peak driving him to his own, spilling his seed inside of you while Cregan held you up and raced to completion himself, finishing alongside your uncle. 

The grip on your husband’s chest loosened with the weakening of your muscles, only supported by his paws on your hips. 

But there wasn’t really any time for you to dwell in the bliss, not when Daemon pulled out of you mere moments after your peak subsided. Despite Cregan’s cock still inside of you, you felt rather empty, but weren’t able to move as you panted your exertion out. 

The wolf craned his neck to look past you at Daemon, who was already clad in his breeches. 

“Kostā umbagon,” you said and watched your uncle, raising your brow. You can stay. 

Daemon slipped into his tunic and tilted his head to meet your eyes, a hint of mischief flickering in the purple before he nodded toward Cregan. 

“Ao kostilus rual nyke naejot umbagon, yn ziry daoriot.” You might allow me to stay, but he does not. 

You glanced at Cregan, which prompted the wolf to run his hands along your sides possessively, and Daemon scoffed. “Am I right?”

Knowing your husband had no further interest in sharing you, simply tolerating your uncle’s presence because you wanted it, you smiled tentatively, “Yes.”

Daemon crossed back to the bed and leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of your head, to your dampened, silver hair, mostly to annoy Cregan one last time, but also because he had done so many times when you were younger, and because he wanted to. 

“Stark,” he acknowledged, and Cregan bowed his head once without saying anything in return before Daemon left. 

It was the gentle pinch of Cregan’s fingers on your hip that caught your attention again, and you nestled into your wolf’s embrace, head tucked under his chin, while his cock was buried inside of you, keeping his spent inside so perhaps it would finally bear fruit and give him the heir he had wanted all along. 

General Taglist: @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens

[exhaslo]

Over-Time Ch15

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4,Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14

Warning: MINORS DNI, sexual thoughts, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff, touch starved

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After a long day of worrying over several different things, it was finally time to clock out.

You wanted relief to wash over you as Miguel took your hand.

You wanted to feel relieved as Miguel kept comforting you.

But it was difficult.

Your nerves were getting worse as you kept overthinking about everything that could go wrong. Miguel must have noticed because he kept helping you walk since you were stumbling everywhere. It was embarrassing.

"Amor, (love), I must admit while I hate how stressed you are, I can't help but find your clumsiness adorable." Miguel whispered as he kissed your neck.

"S-Sorry,"

"Allow me to ease yourself," Miguel hummed as his hands stroked down your waist, "I don't want my girl to get gray hairs before me."

"Haha," You chuckled.

As much as you enjoyed Miguel's attention, you knew that you needed answers first. Moving his hands away from your skirt, you leaned forward and pecked his lips.

"Answers first, Miguel."

"Of course,"

The car ride to Miguel's place was quiet. Miguel was respectful of your wishes, his arm only around your shoulder. How much of what Dana said was true? You knew that Miguel would be honest with you, but it still concerned you.

Noticing the car slowing down, you look out the window and saw beautiful skyscrapers. You watched as you pulled into a tightly secured parking lot. The driver parked and exited the vehicle.

"Sir, Ma'am, we have arrived." The driver spoke as he opened the door. Miguel helped you out,

"Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your night."

"Thank you, sir. You as well."

You were in awe over the parking lot alone. It was large, fancy and had lots of body guards. Miguel rested his hand against your waist, leading you towards a brightly lit elevator.

Once inside, you were surprised to see more buttons on the elevator pad than the one at work.

"Would you like to guess what floor I'm on?" Miguel asked you sweetly. You pressed your lips forward, thinking,

"Um...twenty?" You asked, pressing the button. Miguel just chuckled,

"No, try again."

"Uh, twenty-five?" You questioned, pressing another button.

"Haha," Miguel let out a loud laugh as he grabbed your hand, "You don't need to keep pressing the buttons."

"O-Oh! Sorry!"

"Here," Miguel held your hands as he pressed the final floor, "There we go, top floor."

--------

Miguel was itching to touch you more. The warmth of your hand was not enough for him. Feeling you tremble, Miguel just relished in your sweetness. He needed to be respectful of your wishes. To wait until he told you everything.

But Miguel was so bad at listening to himself.

Miguel wanted to kiss you. He wanted to press your body against his, wanting to feel your warmth. Miguel wanted to hear your sexy moans as he groped your body.

To have you pressed against these elevator walls as he slapping his dick into your tight walls. The sounds you would make as Miguel would turn your insides into a hot, wet mess. The way your legs would tremble as your pussy squeezed his dick.

'Shit'

Miguel inhaled deeply as he felt himself getting hard. How easy you did this to him. To think that even the great and powerful Miguel could fold so easily. All because of you.

"(Y/N), may I hold you just a bit?" Miguel asked, wanting you to feel what you were doing to him.

"S-Sure," You stuttered.

Ah, Miguel could never get enough of you. His shy little clumsy mouse. Closing his eyes, Miguel inhaled the perfume you wore. Such a sweet scent. Perfect for when he would ravish you later. His little dessert.

"Miguel," You whined softly.

"Sorry, I don't want anyone seeing," Miguel said a softly

It was true, he didn't want people seeing the state he was in. Almost like a feral beast just wanted to fuck his prey pregnant. Oh how the news reporters would eat this up.

Miguel just needed to wait until they got to his penthouse. Once the two of you did, Miguel hurried took your hand into his place.

--------

You're eyes widen at the sight of Miguel's penthouse. It was large and spacious. Miguel was quick to grab some water before leading you over to the couch.

"Sorry about this, but feel free to look around. I'm going to shower and take care of this first."

"It's okay. Take your time," You hummed. Miguel raised a brow towards you, a slight smirk on his face,

"Unless you care to join me?"

"A-Ah," Your cheeks started to burn, "A-Answers first!"

"Hm, if I answer some of your questions, would you then join me in the shower?"

Why did Miguel have to be so charming? Your heart was leaping at the thought of joining him. That and you pressed your legs together as you started to get hot.

"Maybe..."

"Alright. Before you start your questions, I want you to know that Dana means nothing to me."

"But she did at some point, right?" You hesitantly asked. Miguel sighed softly,

"We had known each other for a long time. She was a friend to me, at least before our two families spoke of marriage. To please my family, I tried to see Dana as something more than a friend...but..." Miguel's look turned sour.

"But?"

"I tried to love her, tried to give her the attention she wanted, but it was never enough. Dana wanted more. I couldn't stand her butting into everything. I started to lie to get rid of her."

"So...why did you sign the contract?" You asked. Miguel stroked your cheek,

"I did, but I didn't. One night I got drunk, too drunk, and she took advantage of it. (Y/N), I am using every lawyer I have under my belt to get out of this arrangement."

"I see," You whispered and gulped, "Um...have you ever...had sex with her?" You didn't want to ask, but you recalled Dana's words.

Miguel must have saw the hurt in your eyes. He kissed your head and stayed in front of you, keeping eye contact.

"I have twice, but it wasn't real love."

It hurt to hear Miguel admit it, but at least he was honest. You had wanted to be Miguel's first as well, but that might have been asking for too much.

"I have other questions...Dana mentioned about you hiding stuff about your family, your past and about your desires and wants?"

"I will answer everything you want. (Y/N), unlike that snake, I care for you. I truly love you and want to keep you by my side. If anything, my main desire is to free myself from that woman and have you all to myself." Miguel kissed your hands. "I want to keep you all to myself."

"Can't you rip the contract?"

"If only it were that easy," Miguel took the seat beside you, "If I were to rip the contract or refuse to marry her, then Dana will have access to my company. I can't let her take everything I worked hard for. She cares only for the money, but she will ruin everything."

"But...it allows you to openly have another relationship?"

"I've read the contract. I can do as I please, so long so, that I don't break off the marriage," Miguel sighed as he leaned back into the couch, "I swear that woman drives me insane."

Playing with your fingers, you could feel Miguel's stress. He truly hated Dana. Wanting to cheer him up, you slowly crawled on top of Miguel's lap. Your hands resting against his cheeks to get his attention again.

"I'm sorry for worrying about this...and for doubting you. I just...I just tend to overthink, that and Dana was pretty s-scary. This...This is my first relationship and I really really like you, Miguel. I was scared that it wasn't real."

"(Y/N)," Miguel wiped your tears away, pulling you in for a gentle kiss, "Sorry to not have warned you about her earlier."

"I-It's okay."

You sniffled softly, calming down. As you did, you whimpered as you felt Miguel's bulge press against your crotch. Miguel hummed lowly as his hands rested against your waist,

"Why don't I answer a few more questions in the shower? Help you clear your mind of worries?"

"Mhm, M-Miguel," You whimpered at the thought.

"Come, let's wash up."

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Next Chapter

@timidquindim @decentsoupperson @ivkygirly @reader-1290 @daddyfroglegs @eepybunny0805 @ddreabea @iamperson12280 @migueloharasoulmate @tojishugetiddies @koko-1025 @hyeinwluv85s @daisy-artfield @migueloharastruelove @a-lil-whore @hcqwxrtss123 @the-pan-liquid @tojisfav @pochapo @bubblegumfanfictions @brighterthanlonelythoughts @ghstypaint @mangoslushcrush @synamonthy @scaleniusrm @moonspectorx @dorck26 @a060403 @lunablackcosplay @soraya-daydreams @lovefanfic1 @mymrsweirdnessshipperstuff-blog @pretty-pink-princesss @corpsebridenightamare @razertail18 @gachagator @droolingmuttt @miguelsfavwife @ryzguy06 @raideaters-blog @manishkaworld @keidilla @byjessicalotufo @pigeonmama @k3ythesapphic @acesangels @stealingyourturts @angel-xx-1 @amberbalcom14 @ofmenanduhhhwellmen @oscarissac2099 @keepghostly @zeyzeys-stuff @k3ythesapphic @nightingale1011 @uncle-eggy @safixiovi @flaps200 @dahehow @weirdothatwritess @gerblinradio @electronicchaoschaos @mafiaanomaly @keyisloved @unwrittenletter @reader4life @leenasgirl200 @oscarissac2099 @mari0-o @cinnamoro1l @leryg0 @hizzielover @resident-clown @girl-of-multi-fandoms @sana-408-blog

[misctf]

Christmas Revenge

For Scott and his girlfriend Holly, the past year had been nothing short of magical. As the manager of his family’s Christmas tree farm, Scott enjoyed sharing his love for the holiday with anyone he met. And when Holly visited from the big city, he was happy to share it with her too. But Scott could’ve never imagined that their initial interactions would lead to a serious relationship. Holly left her job at a new tech company to come be with Scott and help on the farm. But while things seemed great, Holly insisted that Scott be careful. It wasn’t just her job that she left, but her boyfriend as well. Jared founded the tech company and didn't appreciate being rejected. But Scott brushed Holly off- besides, he was a beast of a man. He could handle Jared if he ever looked to cause trouble.

So a year passed without incident and Scott couldn’t help but forget Holly’s warnings. And as she gave him a kiss goodbye and headed out to start prepping for the holiday party down at the farm, Scott couldn’t help but think he was the luckiest guy on earth. But his thoughts were interrupted when he heard a knock at the door. Not thinking much of it, he continued getting ready, until another more forceful knock forced his hand. He opened the door to see who it was, only to be met by nothing but an unmarked package on the ground. Scott raised an eyebrow, looking around to see if he could see whoever delivered it. But without any luck, he shrugged and proceeded to bring the box inside, setting it down on the table.

“Wasn’t expecting anything.” He murmured to himself, quickly going about opening the strange box, “What the fuck...?” Scott frowned as he lifted what he could only assume was some type of costume- a gray bodysuit, “Who would send this?” He wondered aloud, placing the gray suit back in the box.

But Scott had bigger concerns- he needed to get ready for the party. He quickly stripped and stepped into the shower, enjoying the warm water that caressed his body. He rubbed soap through the hairs on his muscular chest and along his sore biceps. And as he enjoyed his shower, he heard something shuffling from just beyond the curtain. But when he pulled it back to inspect, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. The gray body suit was standing on its two legs and shambling towards him weakly. But when it “saw” it’s apparent target, it leapt at Scott with such force that it knocked the man to the ground.

Scott attempted to wrestle with it, using the strength he had built up over the years to resist the lifeless suit. But he watched in terror as one of the suit’s legs opened up and wrapped around his muscular calf. He winced in pain as he felt a burning sensation emanate from where it made contact and he watched in horror as more of the suit wrapped around his meaty thighs.

“Get the fuck off me!” He shouted, attempted to push the suit off of him.

But the suit was quick, and Scott watched as he inadvertently placed an arm within the suit’s. He attempted to pull it out, but the suit quickly locked onto his arm, preventing him from moving it. The suit wasted no time, and puppeted the trapped arm to pin his other arm down. Scott yelled out for help as the suit continued to wrap itself around his body, despite his attempts to break free. Even with all his muscle, the suit itself seemed to have an unfathomable amount of strength.

“Please...” He begged as he felt his muscles tire out.

Now at the complete mercy of the suit, he could only lie there as it wrapped around his other leg and arm. The remainder of the suit opened up and wrapped around his torso and chest, covering him completely in gray. His dick and ass were no exceptions as the tight suit forced his dick against his abdomen. Now nearly fully encased, he felt an intense heat be applied to his skin, as well as a new sensation primarily from his cock and ass. Pleasure maybe? The warmth felt good against his skin now and he let out a low moan as his tired muscles began to relax. But before Scott could fully appreciate these newer sensations, the remainder of the suit began to wrap around his bearded face. His eyes widened before his vision was flooded with gray.

And so Scott remained there, encased in the gray suit as it started to alter his body. He silently moaned as the suit compressed his muscles, shrinking his impressive physique into something much leaner. And it wasn’t just his musculature that was impacted, but his height as well. Inch by inch, he continued to shrink until he was about a foot shorter than where he had started. But for each inch of height lost, his ass expanded an equal amount leading to quite an impressive amount of additional padding. Minutes passed as Scott underwent his metamorphosis but eventually the suit simply dissolved away and disappeared down the drain. Scott moaned and gripped his head, shuddering at the cool air that touched his warm skin. He picked himself up, wobbling slightly as he adjusted to his new proportions.

“Oh god, what the fuck.” Scott said aloud as he finally viewed himself in the mirror, wincing at his newly high pitched voice.

Scott couldn’t even recognize himself. Every physical attribute that had made him the man he was had been removed. His body hair was absent. His musculature reduced to nothing. His dark hair now blond. His skin tan and smooth- not a callous to be found. But what he noticed in particular was his newly plump and jiggly ass- one of the only things that hadn’t been reduced in his transformation. This was nearly too much for the man and he quickly pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts that unintentionally highlighted his giant globes. He needed to find Holly and fast, but as he headed out the door to get down to the shop, he felt a pain in the back of his head and his world went dark.

When Scott woke up a few hours later, he found himself in what appeared to be an office building. He quickly looked down at his body and felt his heart sink as he realized the changes were very much real. But now, he wore nothing but a blue thong.

“Ah Scottie.” Scott looked up at the young man who entered the room, “I think we met briefly last year.” Scott shuddered as he realized it was none other than Jared, Holly’s former boyfriend, “Looks like our tech did exactly what it was supposed to, wouldn’t you say?”

“Y-you did this to me?” Scott mumbled.

Jared nodded, his eyes narrowing. He proceeded to explain that his company worked on tech to modify the human body. And when Scott stole Holly from him, all he could think about was bringing him down. How barbaric men like Scott needed to be taught a lesson. And for Jared, taking Scott from a rugged, masculine man to a small helpless twink was the perfect revenge.

“But Scottie, there’s something that bothers me. I want to know why Holly found you attractive. Would you care to educate me?”

Scott wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. To tell him that he was absolutely insane. But before he could say what he wanted to say, he started explaining to Jared why such big sexy muscles were such a turn on. How just the thought of hairy chests and big dicks were enough to get him off. And as Scott continued to listen to himself explain these things and the horrible things he’d let such a man do to him, he realized that he fully meant it. With each word, he felt his ass throb in pleasure with a need for one of these men- a man to slap his ass and use him. By the time he was done, he was nearly drooling in anticipation. Jared smirked.

“You see Scottie, that suit did a whole lot more than give you the body of a depraved gay slut.” He stated, “I’m sure I don’t need to explain that to you.” Scott nodded, barely comprehending his words, “But don’t worry, I know many men who would love to try out your new uh... talents.”

Scott was never the same after that day- unable to go back to the life he once lived. Gone from the world was the small town hunk, replaced with a slut that craved to be manhandled by the type of men he once was. And Jared made sure Scott was well taken care of so that he could focus all his energies on the only thing that mattered to him: pleasing other guys. So Jared was more than happy to provide any support Scottie needed. Besides, for Jared, this was the best Christmas gift he could've asked for.

[redtsundere-writes]

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader

Part 1. The King Of The Ring.

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Spynosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Cursed words. Sexual harassment. I only read it once, lmao Word count:3016 words. A/N: Hiya! Well, I am up-to-date with Jinx, and even tho it's so fun to read, I just fucking hate Joo Jaekyung so much! So, I decided to kinda write my own version with my favorite toxic man. Hope you like it, folks!

“Sukuna Ryomen, ladies and gentlemen! He showed us once again why he is the king of the ring!” The excited narrator exclaimed, meanwhile the king flexed the golden belt around his waist after another amazing fight.

His body glossed in sweat, his proud smile and the blood of his opponent sliding down his tattooed skin. A dangerous beast who just caught his prey. They showed the repetition of the final hit in slow motion, a perfect punch in the perfect moment. Luck doesn’t exist in the world of mixed martial arts, we have unique opportunities instead. I used to believe that, until I witnessed it myself.

“It’s here,” I thought out loud when I saw the giant sign that read “Team Black MMA Gym” in bright white and red letters.

It was the most important MMA gym in Tokyo. I heard that they only accept the fighters with the most potential of the country. My trainer used to tell me to at least try out to be surrounded by professionals. As a woman, I wasn’t particularly interested in entering a male-exclusive gym. The only other woman there is the physiotherapist.

I took the elevator to the gym’s floor. When the doors opened, the smell of sweat and the sound of the metal weights welcomed me. I just stepped inside, and I already had eyes on me. I was expecting it to be honest. A woman in a gym filled by rugged men isn’t something you see every day. It didn’t help that I was using an oversize gray hoodie which covered my shorts, making it seem that I wasn’t wearing any pants.

The gym was divided into training areas for different martial arts. In the corner, there was a ring that stood tall for fighters to simulate real combat. Along the gym, there were several punching bags, weight stations and resistance equipment.

The sound of the punches and kicks, mixed with the instructions of the coaches, created a threatening and energetic environment. You could easily notice who were the fighters with discipline. Those working hard to perfect their skills, showing off their determination in every move. The place was impregnated with a spirit of self-improvement and sportsmanship, where the passion for martial arts was in every corner.

“Welcome, miss.” A tall blonde man called me.

“You must be the manager, Nanami Kento,” I greeted with a bow, which was reciprocated.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person,” he greeted back. “Let me introduce you to your trainee.” He led the way through the heavy equipment to the outstanding ring.

Sukuna was simulating a fight with another member of the gym. Nanami and I just waited for them to finish so he could introduce me formally. Sukuna was constantly moving towards his opponent, creating closure enough so he could punch him better. The power difference could be noticed from what they were wearing. The King of the Ring was just wearing a black compressed shirt and gray shorts, showing off his defined abs and powerful legs, meanwhile his black haired opponent was wearing the gym uniform and all the protection equipment available.

It was a different experience watching a fighter like him live in action live. The details like the sound of his punching winds and how Sukuna’s muscles flexed with every move were lost on the TV. When Sukuna threw a definite left jab that left his opponent on the floor, I couldn’t help but gulp hard. He was a killing machine.

“Great job!” Nanami applauded along with some other fighters who were witnessing the fight as well. I clapped so I didn’t look so out of place.

Sukuna turned to my way and a grimace of disgust appeared on his face when his eyes landed on me, a total stranger with no pants on. He took his gloves off and threw them to my feet. “So this is how it is going to be?” I asked myself, not even bothering picking them up. Sukuna gritted his teeth when I didn’t pick his expensive gloves up.

“What an awful cleaning lady you hired, Kento,” Sukuna said disdainfully.

“She is not a cleaning lady! She is your new coach,” Nanami introduced me, ashamed by the attitude of his star athlete.

“Kick her out, I don’t need a new coach,” Sukuna groaned.

“If I knew this was going to be like this, why am I here?” I asked myself in my mind, starting to take back my decision of becoming the coach of a well-known fighter with anger issues. Ah, I remember now. I needed to see something for myself.

“Hello? Am I talking with Y/n?” A couple of weeks ago, Nanami Kento called my gym, desperate.

“You are talking with her,” I answered, thinking he was a sponsor or someone in the UFC.

“My name is Nanami Kento, and I am Sukuna Ryomen’s manager.”

A famous fighter in the MMA world. The world champion in the light heavyweight weight class. The king of the ring and a wild tiger during interviews due to his lack of humbleness. A horrible person to the simple eye, a magnificent opponent in the ring.

“I’ll be straight forward. I don't know if you saw his last fight…”

Sukuna’s last fight was against Suguru Geto in Las Vegas, another amazing fighter. The interesting thing about that encounter was seeing two great fighters specialized in opposite areas. Geto specializes in floor fighting, while Ryomen is an incredible boxer. Everyone went crazy when the fight was announced, could Sukuna beat him with just his bare punches, or would Geto be able to bring him down to his advantage?

In the middle of the fourth round, Geto pulled him to the floor and Sukuna was in trouble. Obviously, Sukuna has some training in floor fighting, but that wasn’t enough when you are against the best. Geto caged him like an anaconda, ready to choke him to surrender him. Sukuna tried to set himself free by force, but his punches weren’t good enough to win the fight.

“It will be a technical knockout.” I thought out while watching the fight from the comfort of my living room. I was eating chips mindlessly until I saw a unique opportunity.

Sukuna, somehow, freed himself from Geto’s strong grip to reach for his head. With great momentum, he punched him precisely in his jaw, completely knocking Suguru out. I knocked my bowl of chips when I jumped from the couch to watch the repetition closely. I had seen Geto do that chokehold a thousand times, no opponent can just simply "free” themselves like that. My eyes couldn’t believe how clean that killer punch was.

“The thing is that his coach and I believe he must improve his floor techniques,” Nanami explained the situation.

“There are many more renowned coaches who specialize in floor, why me?” I asked, curious at the whole conversation. I have heard rumors that Sukuna is pretty picky with whom he lets in his gym.

“You are right. You have been the tenth coach I have called today,” Nanami answered honestly. “Sukuna is too stubborn and doesn’t want to admit that he was also beaten in his last fight. He goes out of his way to get rid of every coach we bring him.”

“Why do you think I will accept?” I asked. If he was calling me, a famous woman for a specific quality, there must be a reason.

“If I believe someone can humble him and teach him some discipline, it’s you,” he declared.

An offended smile appeared on my face. I wasn’t going to let Sukuna Ryomen treat me like I was a slack to deal with. Now I understand why every coach gave up on him, you cannot train something that doesn't want to be trained, but you can tame it.

“Sukuna, we already talked about this. You should train with someone who specializes in floor so what happened in Vegas doesn't happen again,” his coach, Satoru Gojo. A tall white haired man in an all black coaching uniform. He was standing beside him with his arms crossed, clearly stressed from dealing with his bratty attitude all day.

“What happened in Las Vegas stays in Las Vegas. I don’t need another stupid coach,” he defended himself while he brushed his hair back with his fingers.

“You win, I won’t train you,” I said in defeat. I turned around to make my way to the elevator. “Either way, I don’t train assholes,” I said loud enough with a sly smile. A howl from the fighters who heard me echoed through the gym.

“Stop!” He barked. I turned around to see what he wanted.

“Didn’t you want me to leave?” I asked, trying to keep my act together.

“What did you just call me?” He dared me to repeat myself.

“Gotcha!” I thought, proud of myself. I know how the male brain works. They can’t let anyone challenge them just like that. I hid my smirk and faced him again.

“Did Geto hit you so hard that you went deaf? I said, ‘You are an asshole!’” I shouted from my place.

Nanami quickly got to me, so I behaved better, but I couldn’t back down now. Sukuna scoffed and snapped his fingers at me.

“Get up here,” he demanded as another fighter gave him back his gloves. He wanted to fight me.

“You don’t have to, miss,” Nanami warned me in a whisper.

“I know what I am doing, don’t worry,” I answered in the same volume.

I put the mouth guard I brought with me on my pink shoulder bag. I wrapped my hands in bandages while Sukuna was analyzing me from top to bottom while preparing myself for the fight. It was understandable, I was a dangerous wasp in his bee hive. The rest of the fighters stop training to get around the ring to witness the match.

When I finished wrapping my hands, I took my hoodie off, revealing my abs and toned arms. Some whistled and applauded as if I was a stripper, when I could shut them up with a kick in the nuts. Sukuna, on the other hand, just kept staring, looking for weaknesses. He could be an asshole, but he respected his opponent at least.

“You better not be wasting my time,” he angrily barked. His red eyes still looked at me from head to toe without shame.

“You are already wasting mine,” I answered. Sukuna smiled, not believing what I just said to his face.

“We are really going to let this fight happen?” Nanami asked Gojo.

“It looks like it's the only way he will accept her,” Gojo shrugged before stepping inside the ring. He told us the basic rules for the match, asked us if he was clear, and we just nodded. “Touch gloves so we can start.” I placed my gloves in the middle so Sukuna could bump them, but he just backed away. “Fucking pussy” I thought, backing up to my side.

A small audience gathered around the ring for an unusual show. A light heavyweight champion against a random girl that just showed up. It looked like the possibilities of winning weren’t on my side. I started moving my legs and arms to warm up. If Sukuna was a lion, I had to be a fast gazelle. His prying eyes were on me all the time. I smiled at him. He could look at me everything he wanted, he didn’t scare me. It was my time to show him who was boss.

“Fight!” Gojo shouted.

There is a golden rule in mixed martial arts: “The first hit is the most important.” Sukuna flew towards me with a superman punch. He was open. I dodged it fast enough so I could jab him against his left cheek. The surprised audience gasped collectively. Sukuna quickly got used to my rhythm and changed his posture towards me. I created distance between us, so I could evaluate my options. I didn't have anything other than going for his legs, but that wouldn’t be a simple task. His legs were too strong to just sweep him off his feet with a single kick. I needed to do something more drastic.

Sukuna kept closing the distance between us to punch me directly, he was looking for the knockout. He was more of an offensive than defensive fighter, like I already knew. Sukuna hit me a couple of times and was celebrated by the public. They stung with power and intense pain. He was giving the best of him. I needed to answer with the same power, but in a more clever way.

I kicked him in the stomach so he could back down, but he pushed my hand down just in time, so my kick didn’t connect well. I tried kicking the other side, this time he stopped me by grabbing my ankle. Big mistake. I impulsed myself with my other leg to kick him on his face to knock him to the floor. Sukuna fell with a big slam that made the whole audience howl in surprise.

I quickly got onto him to lock him down against the mat with my legs around his neck and torso. He tried getting up, just like with Geto, but I wasn’t going to let him. This was the only chance I got to beat him. I could listen to Sukuna growling under his breath. He punched me against my sides, but I couldn’t give up. I latched my left leg on his right arm, making him turn around slowly. The audience screamed confusing instructions to Sukuna because they knew if this continued, the fight was over. I made Sukuna turn on his belly. I reached for his head, so I could choke hold him in between my biceps. The screams kept getting louder, but I didn’t give a damn. I needed to end him, if I wanted a place in his gym. Sukuna started to breathe with difficulty while his hands tried to loosen up my powerful grasp. He was reliving what happened in Las Vegas.

“Come on, Sukuna! Finish this!” Gojo ordered among the hollering.

Sukuna sighed and obeyed. He tapped my arms three times in surrender. A technical knockout. I quickly released him and I stood tall, leaving him space so he could breathe.

“Y/n “Medusa’s snake” Y/ln is the winner,” Gojo announced while raising my arm in victory. The fighters applauded me in approval. I took my dental protector to breathe comfortably through my mouth. Even though I won, I wasn’t finished.

“Good fight…” Sukuna groaned under his breath, giving me his hand to shake. I shook it, even though he was visibly mad. I could understand why, I just kicked his ass in front of his entire gym, but I didn’t give a shit.

“This means you will train Sukuna?” Nanami asked me with hope in his voice.

“No, I said I didn’t coach assholes,” I shrugged. Sukuna’s face turned from angry to offended in a hot second.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! I am a world champion, you should be honored to train me!” He shouted in my face, but I didn’t budge. He wasn't upset that I had to train him. Now, he's just mad because I didn't want to train him anymore. We were making progress.

“I am not interested in training the world champion of assholes,” I seriously said before putting my hoodie back on.

I hung the bag on my shoulder and quickly walked away from the whole situation. I dodged the other fighters on my way out. Nanami kept following me, asking me to reconsider the offer. I took the elevator, leaving the chaos behind me. Once the doors closed, I collapsed against the wall behind me. Fighting against Sukuna was an entire workout. The bruises started to show up in purple hues, my legs were trembling weakly, and my lips were begging for water. Dealing with Sukuna wasn’t an easy task.

The elevator’s doors opened on the first floor. I stepped out just to rest my body for a minute. I took my water bottle out to drink some while I waited. What I was waiting for? I really didn’t know, but I needed to wait for someone to come chasing after me to beg me to stay. Maybe it was going to be Nanami, Gojo or any other fighter. It could be anyone.

“Wait!” The last person that I thought would come for me said behind me. It was Sukuna, looking tired and agitated. He was wearing a black hoodie, and he wiped the sweat off his forehead.

“What do you need, asshole?” I asked without taking the straw off my mouth.

“Don’t call me like that,” he groaned.

“I will once you stop acting like one,” I said, putting my water bottle aside. Sukuna rolled his eyes and sighed. He was so done. “Now you know that you need me?” I asked with a confident smirk.

“I don't need you, but you are good. I want you in my team,” he corrected.

“Fine, on one condition.” Sukuna raised his chin at me to continue. “You must accept that you are terrible at floor fighting.” He laughed at the “absurd condition.”

“I am a world champion, I am not terrible in floor fighting,” he said angrily.

“It’s not good to lie so much,” I said, replicating his condescending tone. I turned around to exit the building. “If you don’t want to fulfill my condition, I can’t train you.”

“Wait!” Sukuna grabbed me by the arm to stop me. “Fine,” he sighed again. “I am terrible at floor fighting, are you happy now?” I turned to him with a bright smile on my face.

“See? That wasn’t that hard.”

“Hush,” he groaned, clearly embarrassed. His cheeks were a bit flustered, it was kinda cute.

“When do we start?” I asked with a proud heart. The Medusa’s Snake had beaten another terrible man.

“Right now,” he pulled me with him, back to the elevator.

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