#some of these are very perplexing to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

screampied · 7 months ago

Text

JUNO, YOU KNOW! k. nanami

☆ sum. last thing nanami would expect was to get struck by a “fatal” love curse during the very end of no nut november. you tease him even more by saying one of you is cute….but two though?

wc. 8.1k

warnings. fem! reader, husband! nanami, unprotected, sēx pollen, mentions of pregnancy, fluffy smut <3, handcuffs, brēeding, cunnīlingus, him finishing too quick, cowgirl, praise, soft dom! nanami, cērvix mentions, size kink, he's soooo whipped n in love w youuu, (bless his dad's genetics), boob obsessed nanami, aftercare, petnames.

an. my entry for @luv-lies's yummy nnn collab! ❤︎

november 29th, 2024. 6:09 P.M.

december was right around the corner - but oh, was nanami kento fuckin’ screwed.

“nanamin!” satoru—his colleague hollered, speedily rushing over to him. they’d just defeated an unarmed A-cursed spirit unlike any they’d ever seen before. it was quite strong, but it was nothing the pair couldn’t handle. satoru glances down, extending out his hand. nanami grunts, swiping a hand over his sweat-glossed forehead before sighing. he’s a bit roughed up but takes satoru’s cold palm with an irked grumble. “you alright? that was quite the hard hit.”

“ ‘m fine, gojo,” he grouses, readjusting his glasses. with a swift hand, he fixes his crooked tie. “just hah- underestimated the opponent. don’t fret.”

he wasn’t ‘just fine’ though. nanami felt his entire body starting to arise with scorching temperature within a matter of seconds. he’s boiling hot- and it felt like his heart was pounding straight out of his chest. perplexed, satoru furrows a snowy brow at his comrade once he notices his awkward body language.

“what do you need? tell me- maybe we can-”

nanami was clenching his chest with one hand, panting heavily before letting off a raspy huff.

“i need . . my wife.”

the car ride home was silent.

satoru offered to take him home, wondering just what really happened. nanami was as stubborn as a mule though, so he didn’t question it further. he’d rather not get scolded. his head rests against the tented window as he stares outside.

driving through the rutted bumpy roads of tokyo, nanami’s droopy eyes occasionally drifted away from the bright street lights that merely blinded his naked eye from gazing a bit too long.

as usual, the city was packed, dozens of cars zooming by with the flashy beaming store signs. in the background, some random song was playing. it was pop—and of course, satoru was loudly humming along to the catchy poppy melody.

the lyrics were quite . . vulgar though, but nanami still remained quiet, focusing his eyes on the streets.

skrrrrrrrt!

satoru’s breaks eventually come to a stop. it was about maybe a good ten-minute drive and he arrived at you and nanami’s cozy minka. the light was on so he assumed you were probably still up. placing the rusty shift in the park, the white-haired sorcerer turns to nanami with a cheeky grin.

“take it easy, alright? ‘m sure the curse will wear off at some point,” and nanami scoffs once his palm pats his shoulder. reaching for his seatbelt, the blond click it off before unlocking the door. “oh! and tell your wifey i said hi!”

“sure thing, gojo.” nanami stops himself from rolling his eyes, reaching near the backseat to retrieve his dusty suitcase. with a loud vroooom, satoru’s aqua-blue convertible takes off and nanami starts to make his way toward the door.

glancing down, he fishes for his keys in his pocket, grumbling under his breath.

god- he feels so damn hot. even hotter than when the attack occurred..

was this supposed to be normal?

all he knew was that he wanted, no- he needed you.

something in his body . . whatever it was, was direly aching for you.

the entire car ride, nanami’s mind was entirely flooded with thoughts of you, you, and only you.

whenever he had missions, he’d always think about you, sure. but this time- this time was far, far different.

he felt like he was gonna melt right away if he didn’t touch you, if he didn’t smell you-

“ken…to?” you murmur with a quirked brow, standing behind the tall sliding door. nanami stiffly stood at the doorway, keys still idly in hand with the most dumbfounded look.

oh- he was so kept in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize you had already slid the door open.

you looked so pretty though. nanami could feel his face softening once his eyes locked onto you.

it was pretty dark at night but like always, he could make out your gorgeous physique as clear as day. you were actually wearing one of his business shirts with what he hoped were panties underneath once he took a glance between your bare thighs.

his fawn eyes continue to trace down every exposing inch of your skin, and he snaps back into reality once he feels your palm cup his cheek.

“hi, baby. how was the mission?” you hum.

“not hah- that good,” he pants, and you furrow your brows once he steps inside, sliding the door closed and tossing his suitcase to the floor. it lands with a banging thud, and nanami pulls you into a hug.

a coy smile goes against your lips, wondering why he’s being more clingy than usual, but nanami rests his face right on top of your chest. letting off a smoky sigh, he roughly grumbles, gently rubbing a thumb against your hips. “mmf- i missed you, sweetheart.”

with a soft expression, you comb a few tangled fingers through his blond tresses. “i missed you more.”

“no- i really missed you,” he protests, and you can see a bit of a pout forming against his lips. nanami’s drowsy eyes trail down at the bit of skin that shows through his shirt. it was a bit loosely oversized, and you smelled just like him. his cologne was good on you. so good.

uh oh- he was starting to feel even more hot.

just resting against your chest had him hearing the repetitively unsteady beats of his heart through each of his sensitive pointed ears. “at the mission today . . i got struck by a curse.”

with a worrying look, your face shifts into a look of concern. “a- are you okay? what happened?”

“ ‘m fine,” he lets out a muffled huff of reassurance. nanami breathes against your skin, sweetly planting kisses against the cotton fabric that shields the entirety of your chest. “i feel really hot though.. everywhere- not just my head,” he speaks once the back of your hand lands on his forehead, checking for a temperature.

indeed, he felt hot.

sepia-colored irises flicker up toward you before he shivers. “when you . . touch me, honey- it makes me feel weak. hah- like i feel-”

“aroused?” you finish his sentence, your concerned look slowly disappearing.

oh.

thankfully, it wasn’t anything serious . . or was it?

nanami stares at you with a cute head nod being his answer as you press a kiss on his warm forehead. “so was it some type of love curse?”

nanami’s breath becomes deeper as he takes a minute to formulate words in his overstimulated brain. “m- maybe. all i know is that i just- i want you…i need you,” and he sighs deeply, eyes lowering. “you look beautiful tonight by the way.”

“it’s still november, baby,” you tease, knowing exactly where he was going with his gruff words. nanami had a feral hungry look in his eyes, and it looked like no other expression of his you’ve seen before.

he lets off a frustrated groan at your words, remembering the little ‘challenge’ you both agreed on once halloween ended.

ah- ‘no nut november’.

where men have to apparently abstain from masturbation and cumming—according to you, specially for the entire month of november.

not that nanami necessarily minded, he had a pretty good tolerance, actually.

but today, of all days?

he felt like he was about to break. being so close to your proximity had nanami’s head spinning.

his face - it’s overly flushed. a pretty tint of pink starts to slowly paint his face as he pouts at you.

you don’t think you’ve ever seen your husband like this—let alone pout. “we made a deal, remember?” you continue, caressing a thumb across his cheek. his chin was still resting on your chest and you could see the frown marinating against his features. “december first.”

“but-” he grunts, watching the smug grin spread across your glossed lips. nanami gets sheepish, tilting his head down. “sweetheart- i know that, but you’re bein’ pretty cruel right now, no?” and you glance down, feeling his lips collide against the skin that briefly exposes your tummy. “do you always wear my work shirts when i’m not home?”

“yeaaah,” you admit, letting off a tiny snicker. nanami feels your shoulders slacken once you release a single breath, and you stare straight into his eyes.

his eyes however, never left yours, not for a millisecond. as the gaze continued, you could see the beads of sweat starting to race down each side of his forehead.

oh-

maybe the curse was serious. getting an idea you decide to amp up your teasing just a bit. “do you wanna know what i was doing earlier while wearing your dress shirt?”

nanami places chaste kisses between the valley of your breasts. “uh huh. tell me, wifey.”

“i . . might’ve been playin’ with myself,” you sweetly speak, and he could hear the tease lacing underneath your sentence.

the more you spoke about what you were doing, nanami was starting to feel even hotter-

and the pure image of you touching yourself with his button-front shirt on, engulfed in nothing but his musky cologne made him groan. it was clear you weren’t wearing panties. he couldn’t help but peek, and sure enough—you were going commando.

nanami keeps his lovingly longing gaze and slowly, he raises his head from between your chest, raising a brow as if silently saying, ‘continue.’

with a cheeky smile, you wrap your arms around his torso. “i couldn’t make myself finish though. my fingers aren’t as long as yours. so, i ended up falling asleep and i had a dream. about . . us.”

“i see,” nanami huskily utters, sinking his head into your left shoulder. you just smelled so so sweet — sweeter ever, and you could see nanami trying to restrain himself. clearing his throat, nanami invades an entire side of your neck with wet, loving kisses. “what was the dream, princess?”

now it was your turn for your heart to start racing.

it was quick, beating at such high beats per minute. with an impish expression, you cup his chin and make him face you.

tenderly rubbing a thumb over his lips, you finish what your cute, lewd admission. “i…uh- dreamt about you retiring as a sorcerer. or you have a safer job that makes you less stressed. we finally . . settled down, and we um . . ended up having kids.”

“kids, huh,” he whispers, dragging a hand through his blond strands. you could feel his feverish heat radiate against your skin and you were surrounded by his balmy warmth.

he wasn’t exaggerating—nanami was truly, truly burning up. the buds on his tongue sizzle each time he takes a fateful second to swallow, salivating the more his eyes focus on you. nanami ponders for a moment silently, and before you know it, he’s picking you up.

you let off a cute surprised gasp, hurling your arms around his neck before watching him sigh. “ah- don’t get shy, my sweet. keep going.”

nanami continues to walk with you in his arms, going up the creaking, wooden stairs and you run a few fingers down your exposed nape.

“we . . had about maybe two or three. you even started growing facial hair too,” and nanami’s grip on your hips softens. he raises a blond brow before trodding inside the quiet bedroom. “you’d make a good dad though, ken,” you purr, running a finger down his amber-dotted tie. “could you imagine though? one of me is cute, but two though?”

“honey-” he cuts off, lying you flat back against the mattress.

with a split-second glimpse underneath the oversized formal shirt you wore—indeed, you weren’t wearing any panties. he had to check just one more time.

nanami starts to pant heavily, watching as you playfully lift your leg, throwing it over his shoulder. “is that- is that what you want? to settle down?”

“only if . . you want to.” you murmur in a soft tone, deeply getting lost in his golden-hour gaze.

nanami’s eyes were bright, shining with nothing but love and adoration for you - always.

if you squinted just enough, you could see his pupils forming into cute-shaped hearts.

grabbing his hand, you place it on your tummy, sliding it underneath the buttoned shirt.

“i want… you,” he huffs, his voice turning from tender to raspy within seconds. nanami leans in and presses his lips against yours. his dimples happily curve forward once you immediately return the gesture, cupping his face with both hands.

right away, nanami moans against your lips as his hot tongue blissfully shoves itself inside your mouth. minty peppermint — it’s exactly what he tasted like, and his cool breath running against your tongue only made him taste sweeter.

nanami couldn’t help but roll his hips against you with his sweaty forehead softly pressed on top of yours.

each popping smack of hungry lips got louder, and he heard the faint clanks of his belt shuffling. you slid a hand down, reaching for the middle part of his pants. you’ve shared many kisses with nanami, but this one seemed different..

a current of chills ran down your spine as he deepened the passionate kiss as the callused tips of nanami’s fingers unbuttoned his shirt.

speaking of his shirt though—he just couldn’t get over how much his shirt was just prettily glued against your skin.

“god- this month’s been torture, sweetheart,” he’d breathe between nearly suffocating kisses.

nanami’s lungs were full, and he’d sometimes even forget to breathe. such full lungs of his were heaving in and out continuously, desperate for any sort of puffs.

they had to find air, they just had to..

but nanami didn’t care about breathing, not when he had his lips ardently locked against yours.

“couldn’t- stop- thinkin’- ‘bout- you-” he grunted in a hoarse tone, sweetly sucking against your lolled tongue. its mushy warmth invites him to continue, and you briefly open your lashes to stare straight into a very needy nanami’s eyes. “hah- you were all i thought about at work today.”

“mhm, breathe, kento,” you whisper, feeling your lips swell the minute he pulls away.

a web of gluey saliva leaves from both sets of puffed lips and he breathes like you said. with a looooong inhale, nanami then exhales before grunting. you simper, tugging on the hem of his beige boxers. “maybe i can . . help with that curse?”

and you did.

in more ways than one, really.

to be brief, nanami kento was a feral man-

he felt himself turning into a brand new man the second his tongue graciously rolls itself flat against the flatness of your pretty twitching clit.

a sharp gasp winds straight out of your lungs as you’re sat with your legs obtusely spread to a wide degree.

with your hands burying themselves underneath your plushy tits as he devoured you—you couldn’t help but toy with yourself for a bit. moaning, a thumb trails its way down against one of your puckered nipples that poke through the fleecy blue dress shirt.

“k- kentooo.” you’d hum out a whimper, a hand finding its way near the top of his head.

he’s slow… badly wanting to savor your sweet taste on his tongue while eating you out like the starved, starved man that he was.

wisping a bundle of fingers through his blond locks, you continue to cup one of your tits with one hand. long, thirsty sluuuurps exited from nanami’s lips as you watched his head frantically shake from side to side.

your tummy was already seizing, and the heel of your ankle started to guide its way down his back. wet, sloshing noises ricocheted against nanami’s lips as his eyes periodically averted back towards you.

he’s giving you the ‘i wanna marry you again’ stare, no doubt. even with his mouth stuffed, nanami kento’s never felt more in love—

maybe this love curse . . pollen, whatever it was was a secret blessing in disguise.

the panicky, racing beats of nanami’s heart never slowed, and a hand of his then grips your thigh. tenderly, you feel the tip of his tongue dipping its way in ‘n out — wetly lathering his pink twitching muscle with your sweet slickness.

your eyes remain on him the entire time, getting forevermore lost in his crave-like gaze. “shh- talk later, princess. promise.” he whispers against your cunt, delving his tongue in swerving, wide circles.

those wide circles eventually curve their way into hearts, though. a whine sobs its way from the back of your throat as the grip on his hair tightens.

you felt the scaly, hot of his tongue create the perfect heart . . even spelling out the simple eight letters of ‘i love you.’

your legs couldn’t hold still, they just couldn’t- and you could feel the skittish smile forming against his lips, tickling against your pussy.

you were drooling from your entrance, right from the puffy slavering slit down. you’re flooded, soddened with such amounts of dewy dewdrops that form into strings, and in a way though, it was pretty.

nanami was just struck in awe at how much you were just profusely leaking. like the gentleman nanami was though, he lapped it right up. his rose-swollen lips cupped everywhere, smothering the crevices of your sheeny thighs with his many, many kisses.

“r- riiiight there, ‘ken,” you’d mewl out a desperate plea, slowly dragging his head against your cunt. it’s moving around in a hypnotizing circle, but if it was anything that was leaving you in a mere trance of a state, it was his tongue.

nanami explores through every puffy wet corner, sloppily slotting his tongue in between your pudgy folds. he grunts against your throbbing heat, feeling the weight of his impatient boner prodding beneath his cotton-made boxers. “mngh- gonna cum. ‘m gonna cum, kento.”

“do it for me,” he soundlessly says, vertically smearing a fat thumb down your slimy pussy.

your entrance was soaked-

tearing away with drooling droplets of slick. every time. he was so enticed that he had to take a minute to just stare at your cunt—admiring how wet his pretty, perfect girl was - just for him.

nanami was entranced once he moved his face closer. the tip of his button nose then literally starts to drag itself down your sobbing slit and he moans, taking in your natural scent. “hah- c’mon, sweetheart. give it t’ me,” and he brings his ring finger right up against your core.

it’s a lanky finger that starts to bedaub against your cunt, feeling you writhe at the sensitive contact.

you whine, feeling his ring finger rub its way against your heat before poking your tongue against your cheek to silence yourself.

as you watch, his digit gets covered with your mess almost immediately, and you shudder at the cold band of his ring toying with your salivating folds. “pretty please-” and oh- he’s begging.

a blond brow of nanami’s quivers as his lips attach back to your cunt. sticky, glistening strings of arousal rills straight down his forward-pointed chin as he continues to rub the back of his wedding ring against your pulsating clit.

it’s icy cold.. you felt him keep up the pace as the material of the band smears itself around in circles before feeling a coil in your tummy tightening.

the pressure makes you see stars for a hot second—and you’re met with a bundle of nerves trying to introduce itself to the lower depths of your stomach. “ ‘m cumming!” you’d blurt in a staggering wail.

the crashing wave of endorphins made you exhale a cute sigh as your legs started to get more and more numb.

you felt like you were floating on every single cloud, including cloud nine - especially cloud nine.

nanami’s tongue still slid its way in between the slot your sappy folds, feeling the cute twitches of your throbbing clit against his bumpy tastebuds as you start to spasm. “fuh- fuck! ‘ken ‘m sensitive, baby.” and your words turn into a mere hush once your body started to limp its way onto the sheets.

your thighs locked around his neck, and you still had his hair in a firm grasp, digging your fingers deep into his roots and scalp.

with widened doe-eyes, you glance back down toward your husband who’s merrily licking you clean without a single care in the world.

if the beats of your heart was a car, you’d be speeding.

it’s beating so fast out of your chest that you can barely keep up. your legs felt like mush as your neck finally gave up, collapsing back against your pillow.

“mmh- should’ve just stayed . . hah- stayed home today,” he grumbles, giving every glossed part of your exposed cunt individual kisses. nanami starts at your pretty clitoral hood, sprightly nibbling at the tender fold of skin. you whine, yanking his head forward before nanami pats your pussy. “could’ve been playin’ with her a- all day.”

“you’re here now.” you speak out of breath, pulling his head back up. once you do so, nanami looks at you with the most pussy drunk expression.

his lips were all plump and red, lashes merely sticking together, and glossed sleek streams of slick racing down his chin. nanami leans into your touch, sitting up before leaning in to kiss you.

again- his tongue sloppily carved a wet trail through your mouth, and you moan once you feel the tint of his boner press up against your bare cunt.

he’s so hard, you wondered if it was painful. you swallowed each grunt of his in your mouth, feeling his body hungrily rock against yours.

a few ash tresses stick against his forehead as his lips violently crash onto yours—creating an impactful collision.

as dancing tongues swiftly twisted and spiraled around each other in sync, you hear a bit of shuffling again.

nanami's reaching into his boxers, grunting against your lips once he feels the anchoring weight of his heavy cock lie flat against his palm. “m- mhm, sweetheart.” he throatily groans, feeling your hand slip inside of his boxers too.

you feel a lightning-shaped vein shoot down his skin and he grunts. nanami was as sensitive as ever, and with your hands softly tracing circles over his bulky triceps, he knew he was in trouble.

deep, deep trouble..

“it’s okay, ‘ken,” you whisper, letting off a sharp inhale once his fiery hot tip smears its way on your cunt.

it’s almost flat out rude at first—with the way it smacks against your folds, creating a wet splash that lands right on his bulbous crown.

from the stout tip that’s round at all thick corners, nanami’s leaking.

milky, pearls of whiteness dribble from the fleshy sides of his fat cock and he grunts once he feels your shaky legs caging him in again.

god- you looked so pretty like this..

just laid back, wearing nothing but his business shirt. all the buttons were unbuttoned so now—it was just you, breasts cutely sprung out and all.

gently grabbing his face once more, you mumble against his flushed temple. “inside, it’s okay. go inside,” and your sweet words were like a chant.

he’s slow-

carefully aligning his maroon tip between your syrupy slit, feeling it clumsily slip out every few thrusts.

you even reached between your legs with a single hand, spreading your pussy open right before his eyes. “don’t be… shy, she doesn’t bite, kento.”

“hhh.. woman- you’re gonna be the death of me,” nanami gulps, openly staring at the slippery heat stick between your legs.

he didn’t know which action had him feeling hotter. your filthy words, you, or the way you spread yourself open for him with just two, cute fingers.

two twinned digits pried your lower lips apart, and he grunts once the swollen head of his cock snugly pops its way past your gummy barrier.

“hngh,” nanami sucks his teeth, pressing his forehead against yours. his palm rests on your tummy before he gives you a tender glance. “is this . . alright?”

chewing on your lip, you moan out a, “y- yeah.” before touching the back of his hand.

nanami’s face softens before he eases himself further inside, squeezing past that cute ring of your entrance that’s just always oh-so tight!

nanami was as round as a teddy bear. a few years into your loving marriage you noticed how he started growing a soft bear-type body, especially with the winter rolling around.

not that you minded, he was the perfect subject for cuddling. in this case, though, he was perfect for gradually placing his weight on you—to which you always ended up loved.

with his dress shirt all wrinkled and unkempt thanks to you, nanami sheathed his face inside of your neck. “g- goddd, ‘s like when i’m inside i feel even hotter.”

the love curse ran through all nanami’s veins, including invading near his bloodstream and every jabbing axon that continued to pulse through his achingly, hot skin.

eventually through . . after a very long three minutes, his gravelly pants started to turn more and more raspy.

browned eyes of nanami’s turn tender at your gaze once you grab both sides of his face, rubbing circles around his hollow cheeks with the soft tips of your thumbs. “don’t hide, look at me.”

“heh- yes ma’am.” he gruffly whispers, tilting his cheek, leaning into your touch.

nanami was on top of you, glued to you entirely as if both bodies were made of pasty adhesive. with your ankle running down his back, it took everything within him to not moan.

every part — every single part of his body felt insanely sensitive to your touch.

nanami would occasionally bite his lip, finding his eyes rolling upward or even letting off a ‘phewww’ just from being a few inches inside of your intoxicating cunt.

as his cock’s driving its way inside at a slow pace, you watch nanami’s blond brows twist into a furrowing curve.

he’s sucking in every breath that tries to escape from him, groaning at each inch that sloppily disappears between your puffed folds. without even taking a glance—nanami could feel how wet you were, and not only were you preparing to milk him dry, but you were also drowning every girthy inch of his cock with all slick amounts of your pretty mess.

he didn’t have to look down because he could just feel – feel your compellingly, vulgar squelches, feel each slosh that sobs between your cunt folds, feel each pulsating throb that would convulse against your clit.

you’re just so damn pretty though..

staring back at him as he’s trying to make his way inside, nanami ends up getting lost in your gummy orifice that’s desperately clinging onto him as if its life depended on it. it’s almost cute..

“f- fuuck.” you’d whine, tugging at his ruffed-up cerulean collar. peering your eyes a bit, you see a bit of faded lipstick marks that were from you earlier this morning.

you smile to yourself, knowing nanami would always proudly show off those marks to any woman who dared look in his direction.

within a few inches deep, nanami’s creating an unforgettable gap that stretches your cunt fully open. he keeps his hooded eyes on you, pressing a few encouraging pecks near your plump, kiss-bitten lips.

he’s never felt so hot..

nanami snaps his hips into you once- just once, and he lets off the prettiest moan.

it sounds more like a whine—it pitches a bit higher than usual and he falls face flat into your chest.

you get sheepish, wrapping your arms around him before feeling him grunting between your breasts. “honey, i think i just . . came.”

“oh,” you breathe, and sure enough, you felt a lukewarm batch of cum starting to pool its way inside of you. your legs remained snaked around his waist and you could feel nanami’s ashamed pout stretch against your chest. you pat his head, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “it’s . . okay, ‘ken.” and he’s kissing all between the slope that runs down your soft tits—his comfort place.

you hum, lifting his head and watching him grumpily pout with loose blond strands running down his eyes. “i can always take the lead if you’re too sensitive.”

“please..”

♡ ♡ ♡

nanami looks up at you with a timid expression, his hands restrained at each side of the bed. gulping deeply, he watches as your slick-glossed cunt just barely floats over his creamy white tip. from the coral-colored sides, it’s a blushing pink…itching for you to be inside again.

just a single inch or the mere feeling of you swiping your entrance back ‘n forth against the peeling hood of cock makes him groan. “handcuffs, honey? this is quite…eh- kinky, no?” nanami raises an ash brow with a weary smile, soft, dusky eyes never leaving yours.

in fact—each time you run your hands down the open slit of his shirt that exposes his blond growing chest hair, he shudders.

just a few fingertips of yours alluringly ghosting down his skin was enough to make him melt. through semi-blurred peripherals, he spots a bright color that sticks against his wrists. “they’re . . pink,” he chuckles, “and fuzzy.”

“it came in the mail yesterday,” you coo at his observation, inching your face closer and starting to kiss down his neck. nanami inhales before sighing in rapture, positioning his head to the side so you could have a better angle and it’s unintentionally sexy. “it’s not too tight…is it?”

“it’s fine,” nanami shakes his head, preparing to take another deep breath once the opening of your pussy starts to sloppily split its way ajar.

you’re sinking on his shaft and he lets out a husky grumble—bulky muscles flexing through his biceps as his arms stretched across both sides of the leather headboard. “mmgh- atta girl. like that- like . . that.” and his voice seductively lowers an octave at every inch.

it was almost hypnotic at how much you were soaking him. truly, you were already soaked but now that your cunt was accepting his vast tip that was descending its way further inside of you, nanami wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last.

profusely, your pretty pussy was drowning him. nanami’s muscles continued to bulge through his shirt as he slouched back against the mattress, watching your hips starting to moderately pick up.

“s- sooo big.” you moan, the stretch wholly expanding through your walls. sometimes—you don’t think you’d ever get used to nanami’s size, let alone his thick, parting stretch.

clicking his tongue, nanami takes every second he can just to stare and openly admire your body.

effortless, you were just effortless with every moment you did.

every twirl, every toss and dip of your hips had him hungry for only more – more of you.

as your pace maintained its rocky rhythm, his eyes found themselves trailing further down, pausing between the crack of your pried-open legs.

seconds pass and they’re now leisurely making their way up your chest, pausing right between your plush rounded mounds.

you still had his business shirts as you rode him, and your tits freely sprung as your hips started to grind quicker. as your hips pathetically stuttered, so did the wooden legs of the bed. “hng- puttin’ me in handcuffs just so i can’t touch my hah- pretty wife, hm?”

nanami tries to joke, but you could already see him breaking a sweat once his cock explores deeper inside of your cunt – zigzagging a bumpy pattern all through your inside.

it’s making sure every part of you from the inside memorizes his hits, sloppy thrusts and all, and fuck- were you about to collapse right then and there.

the sides of nanami’s forehead were already heavily covered in perspiring sweat. with lush tears dribbling down every crevice and corner, nanami starts to huff.

“but baby, you always touch me,” you lively tease, tossing both arms over his tense, pent-up shoulders.

the bed lowly creaks every second, constantly dipping from all the constant movements and pounds that jolt against the rickety aged boxspring.

its constant croaky groans sounded almost painful—and the quicker your hips swerved around and bounced, the louder it cried in the background from both jerking bodies.

nanami pouts, shaking his head and you make him nod by cupping his chin. “yeah, you do.” you then surprise a part of his neck with wet, balmy kisses.

nanami gruffly grunts, desperately wishing his hands were roaming down every part of your body. tending to every part, allowing his fingers to explore every part.

he’d caress circles around your ass—guiding his callused, rough fingers up up up before they eventually reach near your waistline.

with a clingy grip, he’d start to rock your hips faster into him, making sure he pumps all nth inches deep inside until you’re babbling out incoherent cacophonies of his name and how you’re just so full..

but you noticed—nanami’s eyes were only focused on only one thing. your soft, perked breasts that bounced at the exact second your body did.

at each powerful hop and slam of your hips, they playfully jiggled, flopping against your chest. they were nearly smushed right in his face, and oh- he could feel his mouth shamefully watering at just imagining them being in his mouth.

“closer, sweetheart,” he grunts, tilting his head down since he couldn’t exactly use his hands.

you were riding him at such godly speed, swerving your hips at such frantic intervals while wetly clamping down on his cock.

nanami always filled you to the brim with all of him, poking right through your slickly dripping orifices with every bouncy thrust.

once more, it makes his head spin, but all he’s focused on is your chest that was staring straight back at him. “f- fuuuck, ‘m still h.. hot. i think- i think suckin’ on them will help me cool off, sweetheart.”

saucily cooing, you lick a stripe down his neck as your hips accelerated. as you continued to speak, your voice started to get a bit bumpy from the unsteady movement of your jouncing ass.

“oh- is that what you wanted all this time, ‘ken? to suck on these?” and he watches as you lean back, cupping your tits with the smuggest smile plastered on your lips.

your hands sneak down between your unbuttoned shirt before you silently mewl, giving them a nice good squeeze. “imagine jus’ how plumper they’d be after i have your baby, kento.”

“h.. honey- you’re lucky ‘m handcuffed.” bronze eyes trace down your skin, stopping at your perked nipples.

they were oh-so-perfect.. and as you’re straddled over his lap, nanami couldn’t help but let his mind wander just a bit. he couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander near the very lewd lobe of his brain.

the mental image of you baring his child . .

his wife, you.

nanami grunts at the thought, wordlessly gasping in multiple honed breaths at the fierce clashes of sharp skin.

your hips were disgustingly brutal, and with the way your thighs clung onto him, you were nearly akin to a magnet – forevermore sticking against nanami, never wanting to let go.

“c’mooon,” the blond playfully whines in a gruff voice, his cock stiffening inside of you. “don’t hah- make me beg, sweet girl.”

“you make me beg,” you chaff, slowing your hips down just a bit. nanami grunts at your catty truth, feeling the weight of you gradually hover before you roughly buck right into him.

using all of your core, his leaking tip smears its way against your clit in an almost pretty heart shape and you stutter out a moan.

your syllables of each broken moan were a bit choppy as you were shooting blanks, arching your back against him. even as you’re still riding him, putting all pounds of movement from your body into your sprawled knees, you kept touching yourself.

seeing you guide your hands all over your body in such a sensual way, made nanami kiss his teeth.

in envy though - those should’ve been his hands..

“allll. the. time.” you finish your sentence in a spirited whisper, whispering against the twitching left side of his ear.

each thrust becomes increasingly sloppy with your grip getting more slick ‘n wet — glossed which such sticky amounts of your tangled juices.

each squashing slop! that squelches from between the arc your legs get louder, causing your thighs to nearly clamp together from the tender stimulation.

cupping your tits again, you bring them up to nanami’s face. “go ‘head.”

“woman.. you’re evil,” nanami muffles, getting a face full of your breasts. you hold onto them tight, watching as nanami brings his face closer until he’s shoved right between them. a sweet crooning groan slithers from his lips as his tongue fervently curls its way down toward your nipple.

sloppily, you feel him casually swirling greedy circles around your pulsating gland before switching to the other one.

nanami’s lashes close as you’re still rocking your hips forward, nearly riding him into utter ‘n erotic oblivion..

at this point—you thought the bed was about to break, devastatingly snapping into two due to how good you were putting your hips to use.

“mmpf- so pretty. all mine, m- mine,” he rasps between wet slurps, his wrists still trapped in pretty pink handcuffs. the woolly fur tickles against his skin as his tongue continues to rove shapes around your nipples. “need to get these girls plump… quickly.”

your tits remained grasped in your hands as you’re moaning from nanami’s tongue, and you now start to rut into him at a much more hurried pace.

nanami hungrily drives his cock all through your core, creating a near race-track path that smothers invisible kisses all against your g-spot.

every inch, he’s fat- and his even lengthier girth nearly makes your brain short-circuit for a minute. every wild jam of your hips feels like its last, and nanami’s already drooling.

treacly, sweet saliva pours from the corners of his lips as he’s sucking on each of your tits, muffled gargled moans and whines vibrating against your tepid flesh..

your body had adapted to a more steady rhythm, but you could feel his dick eagerly twitch inside of you every few rushed seconds.

a bit of drool ends up running down his mouth, landing on his polka-dotted tie, creating a gray dampening spot. it’s cute, and you rub a thumb over his thin lips, watching his tawny, soft eyes flutter back open.

it’s the look of love- and nanami could feel himself heating up more once your gaze meets his again.

for a moment, he had completely forgotten about the dumb curse because he was too busy lost in your gaze.

but his temperature started to increase. you let off a bundle of whiny mewls once you feel him nip the top row of his teeth against your nipple.

“s- so cute,” he purrs lowly, feeling your knobbly thighs get closer and closer to giving out. just a few more thrusts and you’d probably be done for.

“mmp-” he pops out your left nipple with his swollen wet lips, glancing at you. nanami looked like he’d just run a marathon with blond strands glossing strips across his forehead. grunting, he starts to pant like a greyhound, sliding a tongue over his lips. “you’re close, honey?”

“m- mhm!” you’d reply, your voice turning raw at each straining moan that leaves from your poor chords.

his cock was massaging everywhere, it didn’t miss a single spot. it’s tip was widely turgid, angrily crimson-red, and leaking from all veiny sides while narrowly delving into you raw.

nanami’s kneading through your guts, tending to each gummy part of your entrance to make you whimper out his name. from every deep, vigorous pump that profoundly batters inside of your pussy, your eyes cross.

you’re dumbfounded—dumb in general too from the way he facilely located every sensitive spot with just the stubby tip of his shaft.

including your pretty cervix - nanami made sure his cock smacked its way there a few times.

the deep pressure pounding inside of you, greeting every single spot inside of your pussy never failed to make your knees quickly buckle.

“f- fuck, fuck there ‘ken, theretherethereee,” you start to babble, the bumps of his tip making your jaw goofily hang. “ ‘m cum- ‘m gonna cummm.”

“haah- together, sweetheart. can you . . finish with me?” nanami murmurs in a throaty voice, kissing your neck.

he tried to lift his head but got slightly pulled back from the fuzzy handcuffs.

he’s molding your insides fully with his cock, squinting a bit at the crescent-shaped moon that hides behind the violent bed curtain.

that view was nice but the view currently in front of him, riding him.. ‘curing’ him from whatever curse this was was far a better sight.

you.

with a whine preparing to squeal from your throat, you give him a nod.

nanami tilts his head, tsking impishly with his smacking lips despite how he was just as sensitive as you. “ah- you know how i feel about head nods, princess. i wanna hear those pretty words.”

“y.. yes ken, ‘kentoooo,” you moan, gasping once you feel two things at once. your stomach tightly seizing and your sloppy cunt restricting around his meaty, stocky length.

it’s so good, soso good that you softly bite into nanami’s shoulder. he hums, groaning right with you before you continue. “ ‘m cummin. ‘m fuckin’ cumming, kento.”

“i know.. i know, c’mere, girl,” he whispers, his face softening once your eyes immediately lock with him. “my sweet… girl.” his pitch lowers, and you decrease the distance between the two of you.

once again, your lips meet nanami’s but this time, it’s far more aggressive and less passionate.

it’s only one word and it’s – sloppy.

your body’s weakly rolling against him, losing its rhythm as the two of you end up finishing together, competing with each other’s inevitable high.

it all felt like a slow … rush.

as you were both drinking each other’s never-ending moans and grunts, the puddled, gooey mess began.

at the same time though, your legs ended up finally collapsing as your swollen, plump lips attacked against his - harshly.

nanami’s lips were almost competing with yours, mashing against your lips with the occasional rows teeth of teeth clash clash clashing away.

it’s loud, sloppy, messy..

the peppermint taste that still lingers in his mouth travels against your buds and you moan. nanami groans, spraying a geyser of bittersweet strips of hot cum inside of you as both tongues continue to explore each other’s mouths.

it’s a straight shot—it travels deep, introducing your womb with a fresh amount of cum as you end up letting go at the same time.

both sets of hearts fluttered as you pressed against his chest, racing frantic beats per minute as you melted the dozenth kiss he presented to your lips.

it’s hot- nanami’s rawly plunging into you as you whine against his lips, barely feeling your hips rutting into him anymore.

you’re just straddling him now – yet he’s still plugging you full with such massive inches of cock, with the addition of his creamy, gloopy seed that drizzles a sloppy white ring around his base.

your fingers wisp down his undercut, as he continues to quietly ravage your walls. it was a slick, slimy knot that buries itself deep inside of your pussy.

you’re moaning, slowly breaking away from his mouth that had strings of saliva clinging near the bottom of his glossed lip. panting heavily, you crane your head, taking a quick peek down at your ass.

it’s a mess, and as his carmine-colored tip slips out of you, it lightly smacks against his tummy.

ribbons of cum paint near the very undersides of your thighs, pouring out between your syrupy slit in such a slow yet filthy manner. time nearly stood still, and nanami went silent, staring at the gooey wads ‘n wads buttery cum that oozes out of your pretty, fluttering cunt.

“are you okay?” nanami sighs, feeling you reach for the handcuff key that rests near the rosy nightstand. you remove them, and he twirls his wrists in a circle before looking at you with kind eyes.

“ ‘m okay.” you reassure him, cupping his face and kissing the right side of his cheek.

nanami’s exhausted—especially after how good you just rode him.

your dripping cunt hovers against his happy trail and sheeny clenched abs as he lazily lies back, finally grabbing your hips. “good . . good,” and with a huff, he sheepishly smiles. “i guess i . . hah- failed no nut november, huh.”

“eh- there’s always next year,” you bring a chaste, sweet kiss to his quivering, pouty lips.

♡ ♡ ♡

surrounded by nothing but bodies of water featuring sods of glittery clear bubbles, you now found yourself lying against nanami’s broad chest. burly, swole arms envelope around your body as the two of you were in the ivory, spacious bathtub. as the water ran against your skin, soothing your aching muscles—you let off a sigh once he finished washing you off.

“i think it wore off,” his warm voice tickles against your skin. nanami kisses down your nape, reaching near the side of the tub where a bowl of fresh muscat grapes lies. tearing a few off the vine, he brings them toward your lips. “the curse . . pollen, whatever it was.”

“mmpf- did it?” you eat from his hand, feeling his wet palm softly rub against your chin. the smell of rich jasmine hits your nostrils as you let off a satisfied hum at the sugary sweet flavor. nanami’s body held you close, feeling your damp body lightly plop against his chest. you feel a bit of his chest hair land against your skin before you swallow. “do you still feel hot?”

nanami pops another grape into your mouth, then into his. “no, sweetheart. i’m fine now, thanks to you,” and you feel his left arm hook around your waist. the blond reclines back against the tub’s icy marble-made wall before sighing. “how do you feel, though? any cramps or body aches i should be aware of?”

with a content suspire drifting away from your parted lips, you move a bit in the calm, lukewarm water — closer toward the back of his chest.

“i’m okay, kento. althooough,” and you give him a playful nudge. “my legs still feel sore.”

“forgive me, honey,” nanami rests his chin against your shoulder. there was a bit of jest in his tone, and you could hear him trying not to snicker.

again, always the gentleman though.

“i’ll give you a massage once we get out of the tub, my treat.” and you let off a sigh, feeling him creep a few fingers up your thigh.

“hmm, okay,” you comply with a sight sigh, sneaking a kiss near the edge of his lips. nanami blinks thrice, his face flushing a bit before you cup his face with wet hands.

“i was serious you know. about . . what i said earlier. us settling down and–,” and nanami deeply stares into your eyes as you speak.

you rub a wet thumb against his sharp cheekbone before continuing, abruptly cutting your cute rambling short, ending with a sincere, “i love you, kento.”

tilting his head against your palm, leaning into your embrace, nanami brings you toward him before kissing the crown of your head. “and i love you more,” and as you felt butterflies party in the lower pits of your stomach, nanami brings your hand up to his lips.

gently, he aligns his mouth perfectly near your fourth digit before giving you another kiss, this time—on your ring finger. “mrs. nanami.”

but oh- he wasn’t done..

as you’re feeling a wave of tenderness overwhelm your heart, nanami leans a bit down before kissing the center part of your tummy that drips with teary droplets.

his wetly compressed lips give it a quick peck and ‘mwah’ before keeping his head lowered. “i love her too.” you raise a brow, glancing as nanami’s chin hovers over the bubbles of water.

“her?” you lift a brow as he whispers multiple ‘i love you’s’ against your stomach as if he was already talking to something – or someone..

“yes, her,” nanami repeats, giving your tummy one more kiss before sitting back up, rubbing his palm over the center of your belly.

looking up at you, he notices your confused expression and smiles to himself. “oh, just a little hunch,” and you gasp once nanami picks you up softy, carrying you out the wet tub, the both of you soaking wet.

“now, how about that massage? i’m quite good with my hands, especially when it comes to my woman.”

#★vegasbaby.#nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #female reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader

12K notes · View notes

kurapikasgfff · 16 days ago

Text

(in which your loving husband nanami kento will do anything you tell him to)

(fluff, there might be some spelling mistakes sozz, pls enjoy)

“buy me this lol” was the message attached with a video which you sent to your husband, kento. the video you sent him was a large juicy seedless watermelon, of course you weren’t expecting him to actually buy it, you were only joking around after all..

moments later you hear keys jingling against the door lock, you get up from your seat on the sofa getting ready to greet kento when he comes in. you quickly make your way to the door, “ hey, baby-” but your words immediately get cut off when you see kento holding a huge watermelon, it looked similar to the one in the video, surely he didn’t actually…

“hey sweetheart, how are you doing? i bought the watermelon you asked for.” kento says slipping off his shoes and properly stepping into the house, he kisses you on the cheek and makes his way to the kitchen counter.

“kento.. why did you actually buy the watermelon?” you say perplexed as you follow him to the kitchen. “what do you mean, love? you’re the one who asked for it, no?” kento says placing the watermelon on the counter.

“i was just kidding kento! obviously you didn’t actually have to get it..” you say.

“oh…” he says looking at the watermelon. “so you don’t want it?” he says returning his gaze to you.

“well- no i didn’t say i didn’t want it either..” you say laughing softly, not actually expecting the juicy watermelon to be in your very presence. “this one looks exactly like the video.. where did you even get it?” you say, with your hand resting on the watermelon.

“I stopped at that market by the river.” kento answers.

“you mean the one that’s 2 hours away!?” you say shocked, not expecting him to go such great lengths just for a watermelon. “babyyy, why would you go that far for a watermelonnn?” you say in disbelief.

“it wasn’t for the watermelon, it was for you.” kento says, his eyes still on you. “I will always do anything you tell me to, love.” he says wrapping his arm around your waist, kissing you on your temple.

“aagh- I know that but…” you say in a loss at words, “fuck, you’re just so good to me.” you say hugging him.

“I will do anything for you, sweetheart. you know that.” kento says embracing you back.

(p.s, guys i’m gonna start working on the requests soon, so don’t think I forgot about it or anything like that, tyty)

#jjk fluff #jjk #jjk nanami #jjk nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen nanami #kento nanami #kento nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen Nanami kento #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk Nanami kento x reader

4K notes · View notes

indelen · 2 years ago

Text

It took me a long time to get used to how weird and bland eggs taste in Canada/US because no one cooks them here often enough to know what they are doing half the time and also here they are stored weird.

#slavs do this too #nicked it from the germans at some point I'm guessing #we too love an egg and have opinions on them #our salads have eggs #or soup has eggs #my very Canadian husband was so perplexed when we moved in together and I'm like we obviously need egg cups and an egg slicer #and he's like ... what? why?#for Americans and Canadians eggs are a baking ingredient and like a breakfast food *sometimes*#and I'm like fool! this boiled egg needs herring and beets and then clearly its a salad!!!#don't get me started how much everyone overcooks them here and how they refrigerate eggs to within an inch of flavor

51K notes · View notes

jijournal · 21 days ago

Text

THE GREENHOUSE EFFECT | D.M

Summary: When you're paired with Draco Malfoy for Herbology, you expected eye-rolls and dead plants. But, you don’t expect that the most sudden pairings bloom the brightest.

wc: 1.7k+

cw: Hufflepuff!reader x draco. FLUFF! FLUFF! FLUFF!, a very pouty reader who loves and names her plants.

A/N: Alright you got me. I made up some of the plants mentioned cause I got lazy going through all the canon plants in hp. I LOVE LOVE LOVE HUFFLEPUFF!READERS! 💞

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

You’d witnessed many botanical tragedies during your years in Hogwarts’ greenhouses—Mandrakes shrieking their way into fainting fits, Puffapods misfiring into clouds of spores, even a Dungbomb incident involving a Fanged Geranium with a grudge and poor aim—but nothing, not even that, prepared you for the quiet devastation that was Draco Malfoy trying to care for magical plants.

“This one’s supposed to be droopy, right?” Draco asked one chilly morning, holding up a miserable-looking Flitterbloom, his face in lost confusion. The plant sagged from his gloved fingers like a limp dishcloth, the edges tinged with black rot, its once vibrant fronds now hanging as though in mourning.

Professor Sprout audibly gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “No, Mr. Malfoy, it most certainly is not supposed to look like that! That poor dear is drowning in water it didn’t ask for!”

You bit down on your smile, valiantly trying not to laugh. You really did try. But the look on Draco’s face—offended, a little baffled, and thoroughly disgusted—was too much. Your shoulders shook with suppressed giggles, and Professor Sprout caught your eye with a hopeful glint.

“Y/N,” she said, a little too sweetly, “would you mind pairing up with Mr. Malfoy for the rest of the term? He could use someone with your… patience.”

You blinked, unsure whether you were being punished or knighted. “You want me to help him?”

“I don’t need help,” Draco snapped, standing straighter.

“You do,” you and Sprout said at the same time, your voices perfectly overlapped. Your eyes met. She looked vindicated. Draco looked betrayed.

And that was how you became Draco Malfoy’s unofficial plant handler.

⸻

You wore flowers like armor. Always. In your hair—violets carefully tucked into your braid, a daisy behind your ear, sprigs of baby's breath pinned like secrets. Your jumpers often had tiny embroidered petals curling down the sleeves or buttons shaped like blooming buds. When people asked, you just smiled like the flowers had chosen you that morning and not the other way around. Flowers were a part of you, just like freckles were a part of others.

“Is there a reason you always dress like a sentient meadow?” Draco asked once, squinting as you buttoned up a coat stitched with little yellow marigolds that seemed to flutter when you moved.

“It’s for luck,” you said serenely, smoothing a daffodil-shaped pin at your collar. “And it makes the plants feel at home.”

He stared like you’d just offered him a slice of moonlight for breakfast. “You think the plants care what you’re wearing?”

You tilted your head, genuinely perplexed. “You don’t?”

The first incident came swiftly. You’d barely begun working together when he attempted to nudge a Puffapod into blooming. One gentle poke was all it needed—delicate, respectful. Draco prodded it like it owed him an explanation, and it exploded in a soft-pink mushroom cloud of pollen.

You stood in stunned silence, covered in fuzz, bits of petal clinging to your braid like confetti. You tried not to pout. You really did. But you ended up cross-legged on the floor, mournfully collecting the petals and whispering soft apologies.

“She just needed patience,” you murmured, fingers brushing the frayed bloom. “A bit of kindness.”

Draco sneezed and looked utterly unconvinced. “It was a plant. Not a therapy client.”

“She had a name,” you said sharply, shooting him a glare. “Lulu.”

He gave you a flat look. “You named the Puffapod?”

You met his gaze with unflinching sincerity. “I would've told you her name if you didn't blow up her sister Lala earlier this year.

He sighed. "yeah... because plants have siblings."

The next week, he crushed a Bubotuber in a moment of casual irritation. One second he was ranting about someone stealing his socks, the next he squeezed the bulb like it had personally offended him. It responded by erupting in a burst of thick, greenish goo. Draco’s shriek of horror echoed off the greenhouse walls.

“You strangled her,” you said disappointed, trying not to frown as you dabbed away goo with a Moondew sprig.

“I barely touched it!”

“You manhandled her like she owed you money.”

“It attacked me!”

“She was terrified.”

He stumbled back, covered in yellow-green sludge. “Of what? My refined bone structure?”

You crouched next to the limp plant, wand raised, murmuring a soft charm. “Of being misunderstood. She’s very shy.”

Draco groaned. “Merlin help me. Not again.”

“She has a name,” you said firmly. “Matilda.”

“Of course she does.”

With a flick of your wand and a quiet word, Matilda shivered back to life, wiggling slightly in your palm. You leaned in and whispered something that made her glow faintly. She’d forgiven him. Barely.

“She’s a menace,” he muttered.

“She’s sensitive,” you corrected, stroking her stem.

Draco stared at you like he was trying to decide if this was some elaborate Hufflepuff prank. You smiled serenely and tucked a fallen blossom behind your ear.

By the fourth week, Draco had managed to offend a Flutterfern, enrage a Shrivelfig, and traumatize a Fanged Geranium into permanent wilt. The final straw came when he took pruning shears to a Venomous Tentacula like he was avenging a personal vendetta. It lashed out in protest, its tendrils flailing before curling in on themselves, whimpering.

You didn’t speak to him for the next twenty minutes.

Instead, you crouched beside the wounded plant, gently gathering its injured tendrils in your hands. You rocked slightly, whispering something ancient and low—more lullaby than incantation. Slowly, the Tentacula calmed. Its color returned in hesitant pulses. One vine curled around your wrist, tentative and grateful.

“You’ve got to be doing this on purpose,” Draco muttered from the other side of the greenhouse. “No one’s that bad at plants unless they’re cursed. Or a Gryffindor.”

You glanced up, your voice dry. “You think I’d hex my own greenhouse just to make you look bad?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “With great pleasure.”

You dusted soil from your cheek with a dramatic flourish. “I’m petty, Malfoy. Not suicidal.”

He eyed you, then your boots. “You’ve got roses on your socks.”

“They’re embroidered,” you replied, lifting your foot slightly to show him. “Climbing roses. Very resilient. A bit clingy.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Like you?”

You grinned. “Like you.”

His ears turned pink.

The sixth time was different. He didn’t kill the plant. He merely terrified it.

A small Mandrake sat trembling on its roots while Draco hovered uncertainly nearby, brow furrowed, tongue between his teeth in sheer concentration, wondering how the hell did you manage to stop a mandrake from crying. You watched from a few feet away, arms crossed, trying not to interfere.

“If you’re going to loom like that,” Draco muttered, glancing sideways, “you might as well do it yourself.”

“I’m observing,” you said proudly. “You’re improving. That Mandrake hasn’t flinched in at least two minutes.”

“It keeps looking at me.”

“you mean, He. Well, duh he has eyes. Of course he's looking at you.”

“Judgmentally.”

“That’s a compliment,” you said. “He doesn’t usually acknowledge people he dislikes.”

Draco scowled, but the Mandrake remained intact. Which, for him, was practically a miracle. When he wasn’t looking, you snuck the plant a leaf treat. It quivered happily.

Later that afternoon, while you adjusted the angle of a sunlamp for your Asphodel, you sensed Draco stepping beside you. He didn’t say anything at first, just hovered—an odd, uncertain weight in the air. Then his voice came, softer than usual.

“You missed a spot.”

You turned, confused, just as he reached out. His thumb brushed a smudge of soil from your cheek, lingering a second too long. You froze.

The world narrowed. You forgot the cold, the damp, the faint buzzing of Pixie-flies overhead. For one suspended breath, it was just you, him, and the inch of air between your faces.

He cleared his throat abruptly and pulled his hand back. “You had… dirt. On your face.”

“Oh.” You touched the spot instinctively. “Thanks.”

He turned away, cheeks faintly pink. You didn’t say anything. Your heart was too loud.

⸻

All term, you’d been tending to a single Moonlily in the corner of Greenhouse Three. Once silver-bright, it had withered into something curled and gray, like it had forgotten what light felt like. Every class, you brought it a fresh blossom, whispered to it like an old friend. “I’m still here,” you told it. “Come back when you’re ready.”

Draco never asked about it. But he noticed. You caught him glancing at it when he thought you weren’t looking. Watching the way you cared.

And then came the last day of term.

Most students had left for the holidays. Snow pressed against the greenhouse windows, and frost dusted the vines in glittering white. You were alone, brushing a light dusting of ice from the soil, when you heard the sound of footsteps.

Draco.

He looked a little windblown, hair tousled, scarf half-untied. In one gloved hand, he held something fragile. Small. Pale.

A pot with a single marigold.

Its stem was crooked. Its petals trembled. But it was alive.

“I, uh… Professor Sprout helped,” he said quickly, almost defensive. “A bit. Mostly she just stopped me from killing it.”

You stared, lips parting. He shifted, awkward.

“It’s not perfect,” he said.

You reached out and took it gently, your fingers brushing his. The flower quivered in your palm like it knew who had grown it.

“It’s exquisite.” you whispered.

His shoulders sagged, some tightness easing in his jaw. “I... It reminded me of you. It's bright and... pretty. Very, pretty.”

You stepped closer.

“Thank you,” you murmured, voice thick with something you didn’t dare name. “I love it.”

And then, without thinking, you kissed him.

It was soft, tentative—dirt-smudged noses, cold fingers brushing warm cheeks, and the quiet, sweet hush of something just beginning. He tasted of peppermint tea and the kind of wonder that comes only after you’ve stopped pretending not to care.

Behind you, something stirred.

You turned as the Moonlily—the one you’d nurtured all term—gave a shiver, then slowly unfurled. Its silver petals caught the moonlight and glowed like a promise, blooming with the kind of gentle pride only magic, patience, and love can grow.

Draco stared, wide-eyed. “Was that... because of us?”

You clutched the flower he'd given you to your chest, heart fluttering. “She’s been waiting. I think... she felt it.”

He looked at you, the usual edge in his voice softened into awe. “You’re completely mad.”

You grinned, breathless. “You still think the plants don’t notice?”

And then, for the first time all term, Draco Malfoy laughed—really laughed. It spilled into the greenhouse like sunlight after rain, warm and unexpected.

“Fine,” he said, shaking his head. “Maybe they do.”

You reached up and tucked the crooked little flower he’d grown into your braid, letting it nestle behind your ear like it had always belonged there.

“Then they’ve clearly been paying more attention than you have.”

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

masterlist!

1K notes · View notes

no-144444 · 3 months ago

Text

new meetings- o.piastri

summary: oscar is terrified for you to meet his family, funnily enough, you already know a few of them...

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! famous! reader

a/n: PRAYING FOR AN OP81 WIN TOMORROW

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Mae was a very convincing person when she wanted to be, and being her big brother, Oscar genuinely wanted to give her whatever she wanted. But meeting you? That was something he was dreading.

He’d made the mistake of leaving his phone on the counter unlocked when he was making dinner, and she saw your messages in his phone. What followed was a very awkward explanation that you two had been seeing each other for the past few months, but he wasn’t going to introduce you to his family yet, he just… wasn’t ready. Which was fair. But Nicole protested, and so did all of his sisters, so he had no choice but to offer you a paddock pass for Australia, and hope you were busy.

You weren’t. And you were much too supportive of him to not attend. So he was, in simple terms, fucked.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

“You can’t be weird,” he sighed as he walked his sisters through the paddock. “Just be… normal.”

“We are being normal, you’re the one sweating right now,” Hattie chuckled.

Oscar pulled at the collar of his team kit, and genuinely prayed hiss otters wouldn’t be so awkward with you. He didn’t want to scare you off.

“Come on Osc, we’re cool!” Tim chuckled, clapping a hand on his back. “Jesus, you are sweaty,” he mumbled as he wiped his hand on his shorts.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

You sat with Alex Dunne, one of the development drivers who was in F2, just chatting casually.

“Osc, hey,” you smiled easily, wrapping your arms around his neck, then grimacing. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, but his voice was much too high, and his grip on your waist was much too tight. You raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry about what’s going to happen now,” he whispered and kissed your cheek.

You turned your head and saw his family, but also your great Pilates buddy, Nicole. Your jaw dropped as hers did at the same time. “Nicole? Shut up!” You clapped a hand over your mouth, a soft laugh coming out. She walked up to you and wrapped her arms around you in a gentle hug. “How are you?” You asked, hugging her back.

Oscar looked between the two of you, shocked.

“I’m great! How are you sweetheart?” She asked, looking you over. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you smiled brightly. “You look gorgeous, by the way,” you smiled.

She pulled you in again. “When are you coming back to Pilates?” She begged and you giggled.

“Soon, I promise. I just finished filming in Toronto so I’m back in Australia for the foreseeable, lest Oscar needs my support at races,” you beamed, looking at him with all the pride in the world. His face was contorted into one of confusion and mild disgust? You stared at him and cupped his cheek, curious. “What’s wrong?”

“You know my mum?” He questioned.

“Of course I do,” you shrugged. “We do Pilates together.”

Again, he was perplexed about the fact neither of you had mentioned it. “I know I’m bad at telling people things, but this is next level.”

Nicole scoffed. “Who didn’t tell me they were extending their contract?”

He was pretty quiet after that.

“I’m Mae!” She interjected, walking up beside you and Nicole. “I’m a huge fan.”

Oscar face-planted. So cool.

“Nice to meet you Mae, I’m Y/n,” you smiled, pulling her in for a hug.

“I’m Hattie,” she smiled, greeting you. “I got you this,” she handed you a sticker of Oscar as a sonny angel. You gasped, taking it from her hand.

“I love it!” You beamed. “It’s so cute, thank you so much!”

Never did Oscar ever think he’d see himself as a sonny angel, but he did know it was right up your alley, and some of the anxiety in his chest eased as he watched you effortlessly mix with his family.

“I’m Tim,” he stepped forward.

“Fuck off Tim,” you chuckled, pulling him into a hug. “How are you?”

Oscar was once again confused.

“I'm great, Bug, thank you,” he smiled. “How are you?”

“Bug?” Oscar commented, but it was drowned out by the conversation flowing freely, Eddie joining in.

He watched for about 30 minutes with a bright smile on his face as you mixed in perfectly with his family.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

His hands trailing up your shirt, exposing skin as the sun set outside the window. The way his lips were moving against yours, the way his hands felt on your body, the way he reacted to the things you were doing. He was addictive.

“How do you know my stepdad?” Oscar questioned as he pulled back from kissing you. You looked up at him, unimpressed. You propped yourself up on your elbows.

“You think about Tim when we’re making out?” You questioned and the look on his face was enough to tell you he didn’t. You chuckled. “I’ve worked with him before.”

“Where?”

“On a film,” you explained. “When I was really young.”

He nodded, and lay beside you. “How didn’t I know this?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, Ithink I would’ve mentioned it if I thought it was important.”

“And you know my mum?”

“Yeah,” you nodded and kissed his cheek, trying to get him back into the mood. “Pilates.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist as you lay on top of him, pressing kisses to his neck. “And I didn’t know this?”

“Evidently not,” you smirked. “Did you feel the need to?”

“I don’t know,” he huffed. “I was just so…-”

“Nervous? For today?” You stifled a laugh. He shot you a dirty look and you chuckled. “I didn’t notice, actually.”

He huffed and nodded. “It was pretty obvious,” he sighed, burying his head in your neck. “I don’t know, maybe I would’ve just… been a little less stressed if I knew you knew them already,” he shrugged. “I just… maybe wouldn’t have been so-”

“Anal?” You offered. “Militarial?”

“Worried,” he finished for himself as he shot you yet another dirty look, making you laugh, yet again.

“Why would you be worried?” You questioned, cupping his cheeks. “I love you.”

He rolled his eyes, trying to stop his heart beat from racing and attempting to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. “I love you too,” he admitted. “But I’m afraid I’m going to scare you away.”

You stared at him with a raised eyebrow, and sat up (aka you straddled him which meant this conversation was going to be a lot harder to keep his mind on. Also, harder- did you see what I did there 😝). “Why would you scare me away?” You gently pulled a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I don’t have a regular job, I’m weirdly famous, I drive very dangerous cars, I’m extremely awkward at all of your events, I’m-“

“I love you, Osc. Anything you say won’t change that,” you shook your head. “I love you.”

It hit him deep in the chest, so much he was sure it would’ve made him double over, had he been standing. A soft smile crept its way onto his face and he pulled you down to kiss him again. Your hands traveled under his shirt, and the kiss was back.

“I love you too,” he mumbled against your lips. You pulled back and tried not to notice how beautiful you looked with swollen lips and smushed lipstick, but it was pretty hard not to. “So fucking much.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

mclaren masterlist

navigation for my blog :)

2K notes · View notes

karmavongrim · 3 months ago

Text

Ex-terminator fanfic idea

Had an idea from a prompt I remember reading where Danny goes “Oh shit, that’s my ex” and it was Danny Phantom x Ra’s al Ghul ship, then I was like “It’s stuck in my head so I guess I have to write something about it now.”

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

“Umm… Would you repeat that”, Red Robin- otherwise known as Tim asks, utterly perplexed.

He had been put on monitoring duty at the Batcave due to his injured leg. He was prepared for a mind-numbingly boring night if it weren’t for the glowing man floating in front of him. A glowing stranger to be precise; a stranger who has managed to get inside one of the most well protected hideouts without tripping any alarms. He’s was seriously debating if this was a hallucination created by his sleep deprived brain.

The white haired man growls- like actually growls in frustration.

“Urgh! I want you guys to help me file a restraining order against one Ra’s Al Ghul. My very much obsessive crazy ex. I mean, I already have one sanctioned by the Council but that doesn’t seem to deter the man one bit and since you guys are suppose to be heroes or whatever, so I thought that you would be filling to help me out with this. Didn’t you guys have beef with him? Perfect time for some payback.”

Tim blinks, then rubs his eyes and looks again. Nope, the man is still here. He nods slowly and taps his communication device.

“B, you might want to come and see at this.”

The man or Phantom as he had introduced himself as earlier and Tim stare at each other for a bit before he can’t contain his curiosity.

“Soo… You and Ra’s”, he asks like this is all normal.

“One of many flings of my youth unfortunately”, Phantom admits with a cringe.

Tim can only nod.

“My condolences.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #dp x batman #dp x dc #batman #danny phantom #king danny phantom #tim drake #red robin #danny x ra's al ghul #possessive behavior #ra's is a simp #and crazy #what is this ship called #past relationships #ex-terminator fanfic #doctored halves #royal errors #deadly decisions

2K notes · View notes

swordgrace · 11 months ago

Text

𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅𝐒𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃, 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃.

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

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

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anon.

{ WORD COUNT: 6.7K.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

5K notes · View notes