#It is a stark choice now too

[amerasdreams]

it's so ironic how some of the same people who admire those who fought in World War II because they were fighting against utter evil want to appease a very similar evil today. Blind to things that are happening in the present. They think they would have fought evil back then but I'm not so sure they would have recognized it if it were staring them in the face

Because today they are ignoring a powerful militarized country that is trying to expand into another country, murdering civilians, its forces perpetrating the most vile torture and sexual violence-- of which has just scratched the surface I believe (partly because sadly there is shame in reporting from survivors) and people are like, so what. Those people over there don't matter.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

More of Stanley's sketchbook because he makes me sick /pos

(Just imagine he was looking in a mirror at the subway to draw this anshfhwj. The london bus ticket is unrelated, it's just a random knick knack he had lying around<3)

People weren't the only ones Stan met on the streets.

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+ this is an absolute fucking batshit WILD oneshot I initially wrote for these drawings that got WAY out of hand, if you feel like reading that.

The oneshot below is a stand-alone now, and in no way is related to the drawings above, but I just wanted to show you guys because Jesus Christ

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Winter of 1981, at a subway station Stan doesn't remember the name of-

The sorry excuse of a transport system that this hellhole of a city called a functioning subway was hardly anyone's first choice of a warm place to stay the night. And yet, here Stanley was; standing like an idiot in the middle of a small bustling stairwell that led down to the full screeching chaos of a train stop on a Tuesday evening. A rowdy crowd of exhausted office workers streamed out like a tidal wave from the entrance of the station, the bustle of their footsteps all too eager to go home and relax after a long day of work.

The faint, stuffy stench of old piss and sweat followed the crowd to the surface from the deep depths of a less than sanitary and overcrowded train station. The pungent smell intermingled with the crisp stinging winter air in a cocktail of shitty city gloom often associated with this time of the year; when the holidays were too far away and the sun seemed to come and go with practically the same 9 to 5 schedule as the workers had, leaving them going to work in the pitch dark and coming back out in the inky black as well.

He might have looked like he belonged there, depending on how one would want to look at it. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of prim, pressed suits and neart uniforms. His ratty old jacket and generally unwashed appearance certainly didn’t help his case, but he also knew that stations like these also tended to shelter quite a number of homeless wanderers like him, especially during the winter. So, it wasn't exactly uncommon to see other sore thumbs seeking reprieve from the biting cold and the dangerous likelihood of frostbite from within the enclosed walls of the subway station.

Heck, if most of these underground kingdoms didn't also happen to be a breeding ground for several illicit activities, he might even have followed their lead. But, believe it or not, Stanley's already had enough experience with illegal activities to last him a last time, and he isn't looking for a new fill. He was satisfied with what meager shelter his trusty car offered him, as little a difference it might make in terms of safety.

Stanley's obstruction of the already narrow stairs with his loitering went unappreciated, as shoulders roughly shoved past him and swinging briefcases repeatedly bumped into his sides, usually coupled with a nasty glare and a snide comment or two. He paid them no mind, however. He wasn't here to start a fight with some random bum with a dead end job, as much as he thought it would probably do them both some good to duke their stresses out on one another.

The hours ticked by with wave after wave of new crowds being dropped off by a train and left to pour out of the station into the streets. By the time the streetlights turned on and the pale pink in the sky slowly faded to make way for the stark glittery black of the night sky, the tide of people had slowed to a trickle and rush hour was long since over. He was now the stairs’ sole occupier, with a few occasional stragglers stumbling up the steps and hurrying past him without a second glance.

Stanley did not move from his spot, however. He stood resolutely in the middle of the stairway, fervently rubbing his arms and stamping his feet in a futile attempt to try and regain feeling in his extremities as he waited. Rocking on his heels, he titled his head backwards to let his eyes roam the constellations that carpeted the endless expanse of the sky stretched out above his head, almost losing himself in the scintillating canvas of stars.

It reminded him of old times; of the sparkling beach sand twinkling in the dim moonlight, and the soft sound of lilting waves hovering in the background as he lay back on the cold wooden deck of his ship and watched the stars dance.

He still remembered every name his brother had once recited to him time and time again as he pointed out each star and galaxy from the night sky.

Then, like clockwork, he was broken out of his reveries by a telltale meow coming from below. The sound was a familiar blanket that immediately melted away the tension that had begun to build in his chest as he practically sagged with relief.

His body moved almost automatically as he leaned down to detach the frail tabby cat that was attempting to literally fuse with his legs, purring up a storm and rubbing her head against his pants as though her life depended on it. The cat gave a soft chirrup of dissatisfaction at being manhandled, which Stanley absentmindedly replied with a chiding click of his tongue as he lifted her up his chest and gently tucked her into his jacket in a practiced motion.

She thankfully remained blissfully limp in his grasp as he shifted around some more so that she was nestled comfortably inside the dark pocket of warmth inside his ratty jacket. The tiny warm lump that rumbled contently against his front radiated with heat, and his fingers finally began to feel like actual fingers rather than useless stiff frigid lumps of meat and bone attached to his palms.

A pointed cough startled him from his clumsy wriggling to get the cat to settle down. An oddly familiar security guard stood at the entrance of the station at the bottom of the stairs, leveling Stanley an unimpressed look with the metal gate in his grip already halfway closed, ready to seal the subway for the night. He must have been a comical sight; caught awkwardly bent over while trying to get his newly acquired cat to stop kneading biscuits on his stomach, with said cat peeking out from the gap between his collars.

Stanley faintly recognized the guard. He was a much older man, with a shock of thinning white hair neatly tucked underneath a dark blue cap and a strange depth in his eyes that reminded Stanley of the sea; with countless unspoken truths lurking far beneath the surface, but no less grand and knowing of all that the universe had to offer, as though he had already lived a thousand lives before this one.

He had seen the man around before, at another station, doing the opposite of his job by ushering stray buskers and homeless stragglers from the streets and into the (relatively) safe walls of the subway, instead of doing what any other law-abiding security guard would do and kick them out into the elements. He wasn't sure what the older man was doing here, of all places, since all the previous stations he'd seen the man at had been several states over, practically on the other side of the country.

A brief spark of panic shot through his spine at the thought that this man could be following him, but he quickly discarded the ridiculous notion as soon as it entered his mind. He had never even seen him before, and hardly ever even interacted with him; there was no reason for there to be any sort of bad blood between them. Unless he happened to be related to one of Stanley's many, many enemies, then perhaps his fear was a little warranted.

However, the old guard made no move to attack or do anything other than stare judgmentally, almost expectantly. For the first time in a long time, Stanley felt like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do. He tried his best to keep his uncomfortable squirming to a minimum under the unrelenting gaze, stubbornly returning the man's gaze with his own wary glare. His cat’s muffled whining came from inside his jacket. The traitor, she was leaving him to deal with the old man on his own.

With an exasperated jerk of his head, the security guard gestured towards the inside of the station. For a moment, Stanley stared dumbly, uncomprehending of what the old man could possibly want from him. Rolling his eyes, this time the man gestured more insistently at the small gap that still remained between the metal gate and the entrance, his arm sweeping the air in a low arc as he dramatically urged Stanley inside. Suddenly, it clicked, and Stanley shook his head.

“I have a car,” he said plainly, his voice echoing loudly in the desolate silence of the winter night that surrounded the unlikely pair.

He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, it wasn't as though he was lying. He did have a car, his trusty Stanley-mobile was parked safely away in the corner of an unassuming alley that wasn't often frequented by anyone. There was no way he was reaching it tonight, though; it was practically on the other side of the city, much too far away for him to arrive at a reasonable time. His nightly excursions to meet his small friend unfortunately left him with no other choice than to leave his car behind, the hunk of metal far too unwieldy and noticeable to drive around openly on the streets. He never knew who could be watching, after all.

He had simply been hoping to find himself a dark corner to tuck himself into with his cat, just for the night, but it seemed as though the universe had other plans. Or rather, this strange old man had other plans.

Although, if Stanley thought about it, the subway wasn't such a bad suggestion. This was one of the safer stations in the city; and with the rich neighborhoods being so close by, no rogue criminal or dealers dared to come near this area unless they wanted to be slapped with a hefty fine or face a higher potential to be arrested. And of course, there was the obvious shelter from the unrelenting cold that now seemed to permeate his bones, even with the purring warmth that was nestled inside his jacket.

So, that was how he found himself hunkering down for the night inside a shabby old subway station, with a satisfied cat still rumbling away against his chest and a strange old security guard locking down the gates behind him. The man said nothing as he hooked his keys back onto his belt and gave a firm pat on Stanley's shoulders as he walked past him, pausing to scratch his cat behind her ears before moving away. His footsteps bounced off of the grimy tiled walls with an odd reverb as he turned a corner.

“You'll be safe in here,” the man said, voice sage and gravelly. The words had a weight to them, and seemed to hang in the air with such a presence it was as though the old man had never even left his side.

The subway was empty, quiet. It was such a stark contrast to the loud rowdiness of the rush hour crowd these halls once held. Stanley hadn't yet registered the utter silence of the station as he aimlessly made his way down the winding, deserted halls of the ancient station. He mindlessly walked past the aged and peeling advertising posters plastered on the walls, his nose becoming accustomed to the stinging stench of the subway. The quiet seemed to swallow the sound of his steps as he explored the branching paths and endless tunnels. They were almost kaleidoscopic, dizzying, nonsensical. There were doors where there shouldn't be, and deadends where it didn't make sense.

The silence only began to truly settle in his bones the more he walked. He suddenly wished that he would head the telltale footsteps of the old security guard again, just to hear another sign of life in this underground hellscape other than himself. The ghostly memories of screeching trains and bustling crowds haunted the halls; now, only nothingness reigned supreme. He glanced down at his small feline companion, who slumbered away against his chest, blissfully unaware of his jackrabbiting heartbeat threatening to burst out of his ribs. The silence seemed to permeate every inch of space and crush the air out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe.

Stanley’s steps grew faster, more frantic as the walls and ceilings seemed to close in on him. They grew smaller, tighter; squeezing, trapping. He hardly even registered his cat's complaints as she was jostled around in his grasp, breaking into a full out run. His breathing sounded loud, too loud, and the world was collapsing around him.

When he finally broke out into a large, open platform, he could finally breathe again. He had arrived at the tracks, the empty tunnel where the trains would pass an empty, gaping maw in the wall that seemed to swallow all light around it and beckon him closer. He felt his cat wriggle out from within his jacket and hop out with a displeasured yowl, scampering away and disappearing behind a corner much like the old man had. True silence pierced his ears and thrummed like a deafening pressure in his temples. He was alone.

Stanley was stuck in that subway station for years.

[entitled-fangirl]

Snowfall.

Cregan Stark x Dornish!wife!reader

Summary: the reader is feeling a bit out of place as the Warden's wife.

A/n: Based on an ask w/liberties taken!!!

Masterlist

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"Things are quite cold here," she admitted aloud as they sat at breakfast.

Cregan smiled as if the thing she stated was the most obvious thing he'd ever heard, but he would never mock her for it. "Indeed. And when summer ends, the snow will return. Have you ever seen snow, dear wife?"

She stared at him for a moment, wracking her brain at the question. "I've read it in novels, I think."

"Novels?" He chuckled. "Aye, I suppose it's nice when it's only in pages while you read it in the sun of Dorne." He takes a long sip from his cup before continuing. "When winter comes, the chill settles into your bones." He looks at her, clearly going somewhere with his choice of words. "I mean no disrespect to you, but tell me you've packed warmer dresses than the one you have on."

Her cheeks flush as she looks down at her dress. 

"It's not that it's not a beautiful dress," Cregan is quick to correct as his smile falters. "In fact, it's quite stunning on you. But it has no place here. It will not keep you warm." He sits on his words for a minute before a thought came to him, "Are you not cold now?"

She tugged at the sleeve of her dress, becoming insecure of her clothing. "It is sufficient, my lord."

His smile falls, "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Seems the cold has indeed gotten to you, for your heart is becoming chilled as well." He leans forward, placing his arms on the table, "My name is Cregan. You know that well. Do not become formal if I offend you." 

She quickly shakes her head, "You've not offended me."

He stands up, his chair forced back with a loud noise. His fingers begin to pry at the top of his cloak, pulling the strings apart that keep it on his shoulders.

She stands as well out of respect. He's confused by it- ladies don't stand for men. Quite the opposite. But he doesn't question it as he moves to her.

"Here, try this," Cregan smiled as he wrapped the cloak around her frame. Warmth enveloped her body as he tied it on her.

"You don't have to do this for me."

"I know, but I wish to." His smile turned teasing, "Will you deny a Lord his wishes?"

She grinned, "Never."

"Good." He kissed her forehead, "I wouldn't want my lady to feel the chill."

He gestures for her to sit again, pushing her chair in for her. He sits down as before. "Let us finish this meal, and I shall call for a seamstress." His grin grew. "She will have Stark patronage for a long time."

…

"Something the matter?" He asked quietly.

Y/n looked up at him, "Hmm?"

Cregan reached down and took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. "Something is bothering you. I can tell."

She shrugged lightly.

He let out a sigh, pulling her hand up and placing a kiss on the back of her hand. "When you're ready, you can speak to me. I hope you know that."

"It's just," She looked around the courtyard and leaned in, "the stares."

"The stares?" He repeated. He looked around also, his brows furrowed. "It's only the people getting used to you."

"It's been almost seven months."

"I suppose it has," He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, "Perhaps your beauty is just distracting. Surely the stares don't truly bother you?"

"It's not just the stares, Cregan. They all whisper, too."

"Well, you don't look like them. Most northerns never journey outside of their cities. You intrigue them."

"Cregan-"

"-My love, please. Don't let such a thing take up space in your mind. You're my lady of Winterfell. The rest does not matter."

"Perhaps they think me a spectacle."

"They do not think you a spectacle."

"Then why don't they speak to me?"

Cregan sighed, "I don't know, my love. I don't know."

…

Cregan made it his mission to ease his wife's worries. 

"I believe they're just intimidated to speak to her," the maester tried to ease to Cregan.

"How so? She's sweet spirited."

"Aye, but they do not know that when you're constantly casting a shadow over her." The maester chuckled. "Perhaps you're the intimidating one yourself, my lord."

Cregan grinned, "Perhaps indeed." He takes a moment to think. "What shall I do then?"

The maester thinks for a while himself before reaching a conclusion. "Show them that she is human as well," his eyes lit up, "Show them she's approachable."

"No," he quickly denied. "I don't want people just… approaching her. She's the lady of Winterfell."

The maester let out a sigh. Cregan held the same stubbornness as he did when he was young. "My lord, if she does not feel welcomed in her new home, she shall be miserable."

"The new is wearing off, and I'm afraid misery is inevitable if I don't do something." He let out a frustrated groan. "The North is cold and miserable on a good day. I'm running out of ideas."

"You cannot force the people to bend to your will, nor her. Perhaps you just… focus on your relationship with her, and the rest will fall into place?"

Cregan sighed in thought. "Yes, I believe I shall start there."

…

Luckily, their bond was quite well developed at this point, the two going as far as to say that they love one another. 

"I've been thinking about what you said," she finally spoke up.

Cregan looked up from his papers to her. "And what's that?"

"About the snow. I do truly wish to see it."

He nods, "Be patient, my dear. Winter is close at hand."

She stands from her chair, walking towards him. "But how close? How long must I wait?"

Cregan considered her question. "Less than weeks, I'd assume at this point. He eyed the warmer dress on her frame, "You've noticed the change in the air, haven't you?"

"I have," she nods. "It's quite frightening. I didn't know the air could bite so hard."

He grinned, "You will adjust, I swear to you. Your dresses are warm enough, yes?"

"Quite so. Thank you again."

"I'll make you a promise, little wife." Cregan leans back in his seat. "The first snow of winter, I shall personally introduce you to it. How does that sound?"

A bright smile came to her face, "You'd do that?"

"Of course. Consider it done."

…

True to his word, the first snow came at an unexpected moment. 

Cregan had left for the day, but the second the first snowflake fell to his cheek, he forced his horse to turn around and head back to Winterfell.

"Get Lady Stark for me," He barked at a servant as he handed the reigns off to a stable boy. "And make sure she's properly dressed."

 Minutes later, she walked through the doors of Winterfell to the Courtyard. Her eyes widened at the sight of Cregan with his hair covered in snow. 

"I had a promise to keep, my lady," he said with his hand extended to her.

She stepped out into the yard with hesitant feet, her body uncertain of what to make of this.

The people in the courtyard watched with curious gazes at their lord and lady.

When she reached Cregan, she took his hand. "It's not dangerous?"

"Not like this," he grinned. "When there's a lot of it, yes. But for now, you may enjoy it."

Her other hand reached up to his shoulder where snowflakes lay on the furs of his cloak. She paused centimeters from it, unsure. "May I?"

He nodded, "Of course."

She reached out and touched a flurry, watching it melt into liquid against her hand. Her brows furrowed. "Is it water?"

"Yes. Merely cold water."

She tried again, pressing her entire hand to his cloak and flinching back at the sudden intensity of the chill. She let out a gasp and tucked her hand back into her cloak. 

"Easy," his grin grew. "It's only the chill."

"You did not tell me it hurt."

"That is the nature of it. The more there is, the more likely it may hurt." He reached out and takes both hands now. "Do not give up on it. Try again."

She hesitantly does so, reaching out again, this time aware of the feeling that will come. The flakes melt on her palm and instead she lets out a breathy laugh. "And how long does winter last, Cregan?"

"Longer than it should, dear wife." He reaches up and caresses her cheek, "Have you had enough?"

"No, I could never!" She smiles. 

Cregan looked around, noting the people around them that tried to hide their obvious gaze. He was used to it at this point. 

…

"Cregan, you will never believe what has happened!" She grinned widely as she marched into their chambers. 

He quickly gave her his attention in worry. "What? What has happened?"

"I have been invited to eat with northern ladies tomorrow!"

Cregan brows furrowed, "Have you?" His panic turned to relief as he took her in his arms. "That is wonderful news."

"The woman who invited me was so kind! Lady M…" She tried to recall her name. "Morn…"

"Mormont?" He finished with a smirk.

"Yes! Lady Mormont! I promise, I won't forget again! She asked about Dorne as well! No one has asked me of Dorne. It was so refreshing, Cregan!"

"Lady Mormont is kind indeed, sweet girl. You are safe with her."

"So I may go?" She asked in shock.

He was stunned for a moment that she was asking his permission. "My love, your Dornish may think me a brute, but I will not hold my wife away from what makes her heart the fullest."

Her arms wrapped around his neck and her face pressed to his chest. "You are wonderful to me, Cregan," her muffled voice sounded against his chest.

He chuckled, "I've only done my best to make a home for you, my girl."

"Perhaps being northern is not all bad," she teased. 

He pulled her away from him with a confused look. "What do you mean?"

Her smirk grew, "It's not all bad. It's got… kind women… and… beautiful mountains… and… handsome men."

He pulled her to him, bending down to speak lowly in her ear, "Handsome men? Are there more men fighting for your attention?"

She giggled, "I misspoke. Handsome man. Just one. Their leader."

A low chuckle came from his throat, "Aye, there are pretty women too."

When she looked confused towards him, he grinned. 

"One, at least. And she's Dornish."

He pressed a heavy kiss to his lips, groaning when she returned it fervently.

…

He would never tell her how earnestly he had prayed to the Old Gods for that first snowfall to be a kind one for her to enjoy.

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[draczrys]

Would you write something about Cregan Stark getting married to a reader of a house of your choice and thus sealing alliances and being fluffy?

WINTER ROSE. ❨ cregan stark x tyrell!reader ❩

since your birth, the third child and only daughter of highgarden’s lord, your fate had always been a marriage for political means. your elder brother would inherit the title, the other set for life as a knight of the seven kingdoms. you were a girl and your purpose was to marry well and secure a strong alliance for your family.

it didn’t take long to come to terms with what your life would look like. you would come of age and be sent away to the lord that would benefit you most. for your family, you would do it. but, every night, you would kneel by your pillow and pray that your husband would at least be kind —- it needn’t be true love, like the stories you often read. as long as he wasn’t cruel.

“cregan stark has been named the new lord of winterfell and is in need of a wife,” your father announced one morning, amidst the feasting hall. “i have sent a raven to offer your hand and he has accepted.”

your mother beamed, grasping your shoulders proudly. “my daughter, lady of winterfell.”

“we are in need of his banners and he needs our grain and cloths for the winter,” lord tyrell explains, shrugging as though it were simply a swap of goods and not the life of his daughter. “it is a fair exchange.”

by the next moon, you were departing the green and gold covered fields of highgarden and journeying north on the roseroad. the colder it became, the more you missed the sweet sun and elegant surroundings of your home. northerners were rough and unforgiving to outsiders, each one you met along the way adding to the dreaded image of your husband.

the first time you laid eyes on cregan stark was when you were taken along the path to the godswood. he was handsome, you couldn’t deny that. but his tall build, stoic features and steady gaze made you shiver —- even under the furs you’d been given. he had the look of a northerner, but did he have the heart of one too?

“by the old gods and the new, i name you man and wife,” the septon concluded the ceremony, unbinding the cloth wrapped around your hands. expectant eyes looked on, forcing a blush upon your face as you reached up and pressed a soft kiss to cregan’s cheek.

if you were to confess under the eyes of the godswood, you were afraid of cregan stark. his eyes were unwavering, lips fixed in a permanent frown. other than his vows of marriage, he hadn't said a word. neither of you were elated to be trapped into a marriage of convenience, but you knew you hadn't any choice in the matter. at the least, he could look like he was enduring it.

sat now at the top table in winterfell's great feast hall, your new husband at your side, the celebrations were growing louder the longer the wine was being poured. you sat quietly, barely sipping at your cup. only when the loud, booming voice of cregan's men rang out did you come back to the present.

"a toast, to the new lady of winterfell! may she be as beautiful under our lord as she is beside him."

the laughs that emulated from it made you grimace, so used to being treated as the perfect lady, protected from all things becoming to a man. you knew of sex, the people of the reach having always been open about their bodies and pleasures, but the northern aggression that came with it was foreign to you.

"to the bedding ceremony!"

the ladies at highgarden had warned you of the tradition that came at weddings, the entire party parading around the newlyweds as they stripped and consummated the bond. it was daunting enough to take your new husband to bed, but to be watched by tens of strangers? it had your heart suddenly hammering out of your chest, every muscle tensing in a cold shock.

"enough!" the commanding voice of the man by your side cut through the cheers, silencing the hall in an instant. it was the first time he had spoken since the ceremony, current volume making up for the silence. "there will be no bedding ceremony. anyone who protests will meet the sword at once."

whilst everyone else cowered under the threat, you felt yourself relax with a warm relief. cregan turns to meet your surprise, both his eyes and tongue turning soft as he speaks just to you now.

"you may retire, if you wish."

nodding gratefully, you follow the gentle hand of your lady-in-waiting out of the busy feast and along the strange halls of the cold castle. even your chambers are cold, the climate seeming to cling to the stone around the bed. the silk nightdresses you had brought with you do nothing to shield you from it, so once your lady departs you begin to forage through the chests for something to keep you warm. eventually finding a smaller set of furs amongst the others, you drape it around your shoulders and relish in the heat that comes with it.

"is everything to your liking?"

jumping in shock, you turn on your heels to find cregan stood at the doorway, just about filling the whole space. his eyes flicker down to the furs -- his furs, covering you and a small smirk pulls at the corner of his lips.

"i'm sorry," you stumble quickly. "it was cold and it was all i could find."

cregan's head shakes, dismissing your apologies. "it's alright. everything here is as much yours as it is mine, now."

you smile, head falling bashfully to glance at the floor. "i hadn't expected everything to be so... different here. it will take some time to adjust, i think."

nodding in understanding, cregan crosses the room to stand in front of you. you feel yourself shiver under his gaze, watching him study you amongst his territory. hesitantly, his hand slips from under his own furs to reach for your own. you let him, both of you treading new water as your learn each other's touch; the smoothness of your palms, the rough pads of his thumbs, the heat that encompassed your chilled knuckles. the sensation is wonderful, like two puzzle pieces slotting together.

"whatever you need to help you enjoy your new life here, no matter the extent, it will be my honour to find it for you," cregan tells you, the kindness in his voice a pleasant welcome. "you are my wife now, it is my duty to make you comfortable."

feeling your cheeks warm, rounding with the first genuine smile in days. your heart swells and the feeling that this marriage might just be okay fills you, so much so that you find yourself reaching up to kiss cregan's cheek once more. unlike the bonding of the vows, this one is genuine and of your own volition, expressing the gratitude you could not find words for.

"i can sleep elsewhere for the night, if you would wish..." cregan continues, clearing his throat to distract from the small blush that creeps past his skin.

"no, stay," you tell him, squeezing his hand. "perhaps we could talk, learn more about each other."

the suggestion eases you both. cregan agrees, using your hand to guide you towards the bed, only leaving for a moment to fetch you more furs for the night. he potters around, changing for sleep, and the domestic scene lets you relax into the pillows.

it wasn't a marriage for love - yet. but perhaps it could be, with time.

[wheres-mylove]

ice-cold revelations - modern!cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader

Summary: You are in a risky secret relationship with your brother's best friend. What happens when Cregan's unexpected injury exposes your feelings? Well, isn't there somebody you forgot to ask?

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.8k

The wind tore through the streets with a biting ferocity, tugging at (Y/N)’s skirt and making her instantly regret both her outfit choice and this entire trip to the bus stop.

“Stupid winter has to be coming,” she muttered, yanking a colorful scarf up to cover her nose. Her phone chimed in her pocket, vibrating with the familiar sound of a new message. She fumbled with one hand to pull it out, her fingers stiff from the cold.

🐺: jace wouldn’t stop bugging me about that earring under my bed

🐺: i convinced him sara must’ve left it when she crashed at our place lmao

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows, her breath fogging the air as she sighed. The last thing she needed was her brother playing the part of a suspicious rom-com wife, finding random jewelry in odd places and jumping to conclusions. At least he hadn’t figured out where he’d seen that earring before.

Jacaerys Velaryon, as much as she adored him, had a habit of being a little too protective. He was always there when she needed him. But he was also the kind of brother who, despite being only a few minutes older, seemed to think that fact gave him full control over her dating life. Any guy who so much as glanced her way was either a potential threat or one of his friends. And friends were off-limits. Too much drama, he’d say. Too awkward if things went south. Even more awkward if things somehow worked out. Conflict of interest. Absolutely not.

Which was precisely why, in the grand scheme of things, the most logical solution was for her to start dating his best friend and his hockey team captain, Cregan Stark.

Cregan was wonderful. The kind of guy who would do anything for her, no questions asked. That's what had brought them to where they were now. Hiding their relationship from her dramatic brother and quite literally gaslighting him.

Did she feel guilty? Absolutely. Did she know it would be a hundred times worse if Jace found out? Also yes.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bus speeding past the stop, tires screeching as it flew by. Her bus. Of course.

With impressive force, she pressed the green phone icon.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Cregan answered in three seconds. Her irritation melted a little at the sound of his deep voice. Down bad.

“Hey, did you guys finish practice?”

“Yeah, just now, I couldn’t cut the boys any slack before tomorrow.”

“Any chance the strict captain could give me a ride home? I missed the bus. Or more like the bus missed me.”

“You’re kidding,” Cregan said, sympathy already thick in his voice. “Of course I’ll come get you.” He paused for a beat, then cleared his throat. “Only thing is… Jace wanted a ride too.”

“The gods are punishing me today,” she groaned.

“Call him. It'll be the same ride. Just, you know, he'll think it was his idea,” Cregan suggested.

“Are we bad people, Cregan?” she asked, half-serious now.

“Nah. He’ll find out eventually, just better if I’m in full hockey gear when it happens.”

“Fair enough,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. “Thanks. Love you. Bye.”

She hung up and immediately dialed her brother, requesting the same exact thing.

“Sure, you owe me one though,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t have my car today, so we’ll have to go with Stark. Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” No, her boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem.

(Y/N) Velaryon paced back and forth under the shelter of the bus stop, her boots crunching against the thin layer of frost that had already formed on the pavement. She rubbed her arms, trying to keep the cold at bay, when the familiar growl of a black Jeep Wrangler cut through the quiet. It rolled to a stop near the curb.

She jogged toward the car, her breath puffing out in small clouds, as the driver’s window slid down.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Cregan announced with a mock flourish.

“More like a toad,” Jace quipped from the passenger seat, his grin unmistakable.

“One more word and you’ll get my bag to the head. I’ve got half my textbooks in there,” she threatened playfully as she slid into the backseat.

The backseat of this car had witnessed many events, and that was the first thought that crossed her mind. One look at Cregan in the side mirror, and she knew he was thinking the same.

She pretended to be very engrossed in buckling her seatbelt.

“How was practice?” she asked out of politeness.

“Not bad. Stark was all business today, but it was necessary. Big day tomorrow,” Jace replied, fiddling with the radio. Cregan slapped his hand away as he slowed down for a red light.

“Great,” the girl muttered, not trusting her tongue around the two of them together.

An awkward silence fell, broken only by some random song. How long can a red light last?

“So, (Y/N),” Cregan began, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His voice wavered, but Jace was in his own world, watching pedestrians crossing the street. “How’s it going? How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” she replied, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Though the classes dragged on.”

The devil on her shoulder won an uneven fight with the weak angel. She smirked.

“‘M absolutely knackered.”

Cregan inhaled slowly through his nose.

“Dude, it’s green,” Jace informed him, just before the car behind them honked.

“I can see,” Cregan reassured him, finally moving forward. “I’ll need your sister’s address since I’ve never been there before.”

If Jace had one more brain cell, he wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“Sure thing,” her brother agreed, typing the info into the GPS on his phone. “Hey, kid, are you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” (Y/N) asked angrily, kicking his seat. “Baela’s taking me.”

“You know what I think?” Jace started, spreading his arms dramatically. “A girlfriend in the stands is such a power boost. Such a boost… I never play as well as when Baela supports me from the bleachers.”

“You never play well,” His sister muttered under her breath, but Jacaerys was currently listening only to himself.

“Cregan wouldn’t get it,” He patted Cregan on the shoulder in the meantime. “If you combined your skills with that support, if you brought a girl, trust me, your performance would be a hundred times better.”

“Talented people don’t need superstitions to play well, Jace,” (Y/N) chimed in, leaning forward. “Besides, Cregan is single.”

“Because he’s too serious and broody, girls don’t like that,” her brother declared in a know-it-all voice. She gave him a side-eye. “He is afraid of women.”

“Are you afraid of women, Stark?” she asked seriously, barely holding back laughter.

Cregan shot her a look in the mirror, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Terrified,” he deadpanned. “That’s why I’m thinking maybe your sister should be my good luck charm tomorrow. Just as a friend, of course.”

“Eh, it’s not the same,” Jace protested, scrunching his face.

“Don’t you believe in the power of friendship?” the driver asked with full seriousness.

“Can I get a jersey with your number?” (Y/N) batted her lashes playfully at her boyfriend.

A jersey with his number was already hanging in her closet.

“Alright, you’ll see, you need deeper feelings for it to work, otherwise it just won’t…”

Jacaerys continued his monologue all the way to her apartment. The girl sighed with relief once she was back in her room, the familiarity of it a welcome escape from the tension.

Two new messages.

🐺: you looked so pretty today

🐺: but next time wear a damn coat, or you’ll catch a cold!!!

The fluorescent light above (Y/N)’s head flickered ominously, casting creepy shadows across the cramped janitor’s closet. She swore that if the bulb died completely, she'd either pee her pants or spiral into a full-blown claustrophobic meltdown. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to focus on the neatly arranged rows of brooms and mops. Soon, the door creaked open, revealing Cregan in all his glory.

Full hockey gear? Check. Helmet? Tucked under his arm. That goofy, ridiculous smile? Definitely check.

“You look so good,” she admitted, grabby hands already in the air. “Come here.”

Cregan shut the door behind him with a soft click, casting a glance at the flickering light overhead. He sighed, took one of her hands, and kissed her wrist softly. 

“We have to tell your brother,” Stark said, his voice serious as he placed his helmet on the wooden shelf beside them. “It’s not right that my girl has to sneak me a good-luck kiss in a smelly closet. You should be able to strut right into the locker room.”

His girl grinned. “You’ve got your gear on,” she pointed out. “We can tell him after the game. Besides, Baela’s softening him up for us. I asked her to.”

Baela Targaryen was known for sniffing out secrets, and the second she spotted (Y/N) wearing Cregan’s jersey before the game, she didn’t even need to ask. Her knowing look said it all, and within minutes, Velaryon girl spilled the truth, enduring Baela’s delighted squeal that had probably echoed for miles.

“I knew you had high standards, girl. Going straight for the captain!” Baela teased, laughing. “Jace obviously doesn’t know? He hasn’t said anything... and Stark’s still breathing.”

Thankfully, Baela had been more than willing to help, distracting Jace so Cregan could sneak away after the pre-game pep talk. Now, Cregan was looking at (Y/N) with pride, his eyes lingering on the jersey she wore. 

“She’s a real one for that,” he mused. “But seriously, we have to tell him. I want a picture of us on my lock screen, and that asshole keeps looking over my shoulder.”

She laughed, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, savoring the way his rough stubble tickled her skin.

“For now,” she murmured against his lips, “just focus on the game. You’re incredible. An amazing captain. And it’s going to go great. I believe in you.”

Cregan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe one more kiss. Just to make sure we win.”

“The power of having a girl in the stands,” she teased, poking his chest playfully.

“Jace definitely exaggerated that theory,” Cregan confessed with a chuckle. “But honestly... I’m just glad you’re here.”

With butterflies in her stomach and a grin she couldn’t wipe off her face, (Y/N) found herself in the stands minutes later, sitting next to Baela. Her friend was watching the silent exchange of glances between her and Cregan with thinly veiled amusement.

“I always knew Jace was blind, but this is just tragic,” Baela remarked, elbowing her in the ribs. Jace, oblivious as ever, waved enthusiastically from the rink. Both girls waved back, cheering with the crowd.

“You’ll boo with me when the Dornish Spears come out, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Baela gave her a mock-serious look. “Technically, we shouldn’t. Obviously, I will,” she promised. 

The game was fast, brutal, and nearly deadlocked until the very end. (Y/N) had never yelled so much in her life, though her shouts were lost in the deafening roar of the crowd. Cregan played like a man possessed, commanding the ice with his usual grace. At least twenty times during the match, she found herself holding her breath, her heart leaping into her throat with every risky play. But she knew he had it under control. He always did.

Of course they won.

The victory rippled through the stands like a wave, and (Y/N) screamed herself hoarse as the crowd erupted around her. Cregan pulled off his helmet, his eyes scanning the stands until he found her. His smile—tired and breathtaking—was for her, and her alone. She didn’t regret the ringing in her ears or the scratch in her throat for a second. Moments later, he was swept up in a sea of celebrating teammates.

“Girl, are you crying?” Baela asked, pulling her into a hug.

“I don’t know,” She sniffled. “I’m just emotional. I just like that boy so fucking much, Bae.”

“I know, honey. Come on, they’re heading off the ice. Let’s congratulate them, and then have a crazy party or something. No time for tears.”

Cregan was one of the last players to leave the ice, trailing just behind Jace. But before he could step off, the captain of the opposing team, his face twisted with anger, skated up to him. For a moment, it looked like they might talk it out. But then, it all happened too fast.

The player from Dorne shoved Cregan hard against the wall. Stark, ever the calm one, simply raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

And then he took a fist to the face. The sickening sound of bone cracking echoed across the rink.

“What the hell is going on? Jace!” Baela shouted, holding her friend back as she tried to rush forward.

Jace jumped back onto the ice, but by the time he got there, the other team had pulled their enraged captain away. Cregan stumbled off the ice just as (Y/N) reached him.

“Are you okay? Oh gods, let me see,” she fretted, her hands hovering near his face.

“What a fucking jerk!” Jace nearly screamed, skidding to a stop by the exit. “I called for help, they’ll be here in a second.”

(Y/N) carefully moved Cregan’s hand away, revealing the damage. His face was a swollen mess, his nose clearly broken.

“Do you think they’ll make me lie face-down on the ice?” Cregan joked weakly, leaning on her for support.

“Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should sit down. Oh shit, I can’t believe—”

“Hey, sweetheart. Calm down,” Cregan murmured, his voice soothing despite the pain. “It hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”

Just then, the medic arrived, momentarily distracting Jace. But despite the chaos, he had clearly heard what Cregan just said. For a moment, Jace stood there, his face pale as the words and the image before him sank in.

“Sweetheart?” he echoed softly, but no one paid him any attention.

“Jace, maybe now’s not the time,” Baela said gently, stepping up beside him.

“I feel physically sick,” Jace muttered, staggering to the railing for support.

The medic handed Cregan an ice pack. “Hold this to your face for a bit. I’ll get you something for the pain right away, but a doctor’s gonna have to set that nose.”

Cregan winced but smiled through it. “You might wanna check on my friend first,” he said, gesturing toward Jace. “I can wait. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

Jace did, in fact, end up passing out.

Cregan had to take a break from sports after that little adventure. He’d recovered, but now sported a slightly crooked nose—something his girlfriend found oddly hot.

(Y/N) saw his temporary recovery as the perfect chance to manipulate him into watching Teen Wolf with her every evening. After all, the title worked in her favor.

They were nestled on the couch, wrapped together in a soft gray blanket. It was their first time lounging in the living room of the apartment Cregan shared with her brother, rather than hiding behind the securely locked door of his bedroom. 

It would be perfect, really. If it weren’t for Jace’s constant, deliberate trips to the kitchen and bathroom, each one an obvious reminder that he was keeping an eye on them.

“Dear Jacaerys,” (Y/N) said, her patience wearing thin, “you do know we don’t need a chaperone, right?”

Jace barely paused, shooting her a sidelong glance before muttering, “You need someone to knock the stupid ideas out of your heads,” as he slammed the bathroom door.

Cregan chuckled softly, pulling her closer. “Give him some time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. He’ll come around eventually.”

They’d already gone through several long, tension-filled conversations, with Baela stepping in as the voice of reason when things got too heated. They were careful now, avoiding anything that might provoke Jace further.

But Cregan was right—Jace was slowly coming around, even if he was still stubborn. The days of silent treatment had finally passed.

“This is on us for hiding things from him,” (Y/N) sighed, watching her brother embark on yet another purposeful long journey to the kitchen. “No more secrets now.”

“Your brother’s just looking out for you,” Cregan called out, raising his voice slightly so Jace could hear. “He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and I respect that. I don’t know anyone else who cares like he does.”

Jace stopped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His lips curved into a sweet, mischievous grin.

“Yeah,” he began, drawing out the word. “So tell me sister, when are you introducing him to Mom?”

[greengoblinswifey]

Consume Me- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

warnings: praise kink, unprotected sex, oral sex(f receiving) sub rafe kinda.(nth too crazy in this for now)

In the dim glow of Topper's party, Rafe stood like a moth drawn to the flame, watching you laugh, a kook like him but somehow, radiating warmth and light, effortlessly weaving through the crowd, your spirit a wild dance that captivated him. You were everything he wasn’t—free, vibrant, surrounded by friends, yet you remained a mystery, a beautiful enigma who kept your distance from him, tethered to Kelce’s side whenever they would hang out and he would be present.

As the music pulsed, Rafe felt his heart race, each beat echoing in his chest, probably a result of about two lines. The moment you glanced his way, his world shifted; you consumed his thoughts, your essence wrapping around him like ivy, pulling him deeper into infatuation. He was a tangled mess of longing, wishing for just a moment to bridge the gap between your worlds, to be the one who took you home, who had you at his fingertips in more ways than one.

But as the night unfolded he was left standing in the shadows, a silent admirer caught in the whirlwind of your laughter, desperate to break free from his own insecurities. Rafe knew he was entranced, completely lost in your charm, yearning for you to see him not just as Rafe, but as someone worthy of your light.

“Kelce,” you groaned, the strong Vodka beginning to do a number on you, “I’m ready to go home.”

“Well I'm not ready,” he groaned back, nudging you towards Rafe, the shy observer longing to unravel your mystery. “Let Rafe take you.”

You were caught off guard, a flicker of uncertainty in your eyes, a silent plea for companionship in the depths of the night. Rafe, seizing the moment, stepped forward, a glimmer of hope in his gaze, ready to bridge the gap between your worlds, to finally break through the barrier you've unknowingly placed.

“It’s not a problem really,” Rafe said, instinctively rubbing his nose. You rolled your eyes, he’d definitely done a line or two but he seemed capable enough to take you home. Well, what other choice did you have. You couldn’t avoid him forever anyway.

As Rafe guided you through the thrumming crowd, his hand rested gently on your back, the touch electrifying. Inside, a whirlwind of emotions swirled, happiness bloomed in his chest like a flower breaking through the cracks of concrete. After months of longing, he finally got to be near you, to bask in your presence, the princess of the island, radiant and untouchable, yet somehow here beside him.

You’re everything he could ever dream of—rich, vibrant, a kook just like him, yet embodying a kindness and grace that seemed worlds apart from his own struggles. The two of you slipped into his vehicle, the air thick with unspoken words and electric tension. As you entered your address, he stole glances at you, memorizing the way your eyes reflected the streetlights, the way your face softened in the glow of the dashboard.

The journey unfolded in silence, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the distant sounds of the night. You stared out the window, lost in thought, while Rafe wrestled with the words that dance just beyond his reach, each one heavy with the weight of his feelings. He wanted to bridge the chasm between them, to share the thoughts that swirled in his mind, but for now, he simply reveled in the moment, the thrill of being so close to someone so extraordinary.

The gates of your mansion opened, Rafe driving up the driveway, deciding this was the night. You turned to him, your voice soft yet unexpected, "Do you want to come in for some water?"

Both of you paused, surprise flickering across your faces. He nodded, a smile breaking through the tension as he steps out of the vehicle, the night air wrapping around him.

Inside, you grabbed a glass and filled it with water, the cool liquid a stark contrast to the heat of the moment.

Turning to face you, he took a deep breath, his heart racing. “You have no idea how consumed I am by you," he begins, his voice steady but filled with urgency. “I’ve wanted you. Craved you for months. It’s like... I need you. I’ve never felt like this before, and honestly, I feel like I’d die if I didn’t have you in my life. I don’t know what this feeling is.”

As he spoke, he couldn’t help but notice how your melanin glowed under the soft light, a radiant warmth that drew him in further. Your skin seemed to capture the light, illuminating the room with an ethereal beauty that left him breathless. He watched as your eyes widened slightly, the weight of his confession hanging between you like a fragile thread, waiting to be woven into something more.

“Baby.” Your voice trembled slightly, revealing a vulnerability that made you feel withdrawn, as if you were scared of what he represented. But he knew he needed you, and he stepped closer, the tension between you palpable.

Sitting around the island, your eyes were on him, a mix of longing and hesitation hanging in the air. He lowered himself to his knees, resting his head in your lap, looking up at you with dazed, needy eyes. “I need you so bad,” he whimpered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I crave you Y/N. It’s like I- I can’t.”

His words hang in the air, filled with desperation, and you could feel the weight of his longing pressing against him, hoping you could sense just how deeply he felt for you.

You pulled him up by his shirt, your small hand then snaking around his neck and his eyebrows furrowed. His lips parted and you took the opportunity to press your glossy ones against his. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in the moment. Your lips met softly, a gentle brush that felt electric. It was filled with a sweetness and need that spoke volumes. There was no rush, just a lingering connection as you both savored the warmth and tenderness of the kiss.

His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as you deepened the kiss, exploring the unfamiliar territory of each other’s lips. It was a dance of innocence, where every touch felt new and exciting, and the world outside felt distant. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, and in that moment, everything felt right.

The kiss ended and he whimpered at the loss. You pulled him by his shirt towards your room upstairs, on the other side of the mansion and he followed obediently like a loyal puppy.

As you entered your room, the atmosphere shifted, filled with a mix of anticipation and excitement. The soft glow of the lamp casted gentle shadows on the walls, creating an intimate space just for the two of you.

You sat close on the edge of the bed, hearts racing as you leaned in, sharing a tentative kiss that gradually deepened. It started slow, a sweet exploration of each other’s lips, but soon turned into something more passionate, a need that could no longer be contained.

Hands began to wander, tracing the curves of each other’s bodies. The moment felt electric as you removed each other’s clothes, each layer falling away, revealing more skin and vulnerability.

You audibly gasped, staring at the erection revealed in front of you. God, he was big.

“I’m so hard for you,” Rafe whined.

“I know baby.” It was obvious.

He went on his knees once more, opening your legs and revealing the heaven that resided between. “Am I allowed to touch you? Have my tongue inside you?”

At a loss for words you nodded, just desperate to feel him in some capacity.

“Oh- oh my, god.” Whines, the sound of your juices and Rafe’s tongue filled your once silent room and you gripped onto the little hair he had on his head. Curse that hot ass buzz cut.

The feeling of his tongue against you was heaven, he was so skilled, sucking on your clit, flicking it with his tongue as his eyes bore into yours, a moment so intimate you almost wanted to hide your pretty face.

He took his time, savoring every moment, every taste. His tongue moved with precision—gentle, deliberate. Each motion ignited something deep inside, making your breath catch, your back arching slightly off the bed. You couldfeel the pressure building with every lap of his tongue, every flicker of heat against your most sensitive nerves.

“Baby, fuck, Rafe, oh my- Rafe, please.”

Rafe’s hands gripped your thighs tighter as he deepened his focus, his tongue pressing harder now, more insistent. He was relentless but tender and more soft moans escaped your lips. He responded with a low groan of approval, the vibration of his voice adding to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

Your body betrayed you, trembling under his touch as he pushed you closer to the edge. He knew you were close—he could feel it in the way your thighs trembled and tightened around his head, and the way your breath quickened. His tongue circled in a final, deliberate motion, and the world around you blurred.

When it hit, it was like a storm breaking loose. Your body surged with pleasure, a pulse that started deep inside and spread outward, consuming every inch of you. Your fingers tangled in the sheets, gripping tight as the sensation washed over you, a cry slipping from your lips as you came undone under his mouth. He didn’t let up, drawing every last ripple from you, not stopping until your body finally collapsed, spent and trembling in his hands.

Rafe pulled back slowly, his lips glistening with a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he looked up at you, your chest heaving, your body still buzzing in the aftermath.

“Did you like that pretty girl?” he inquired, panting and buzzed out, drunk off your savory taste.

Nodding frantically, you pulled him on top of you by his neck, capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss and sucking the remnants of your taste from his mouth and tongue.

“Need you Rafey, please, fuck me, just put it in.” It was your turn to be a needy mess. Seeing his hard cock in front of you right after you came was like an addict seeing drugs.

“Anything for you pretty girl.”

The air between you crackled with tension, every touch sparking something deeper. Rafe hovered over you, his body pressing lightly against yours as he lined himself up, his gaze locked onto your face. The heat of his skin against yours was electrifying, and anticipation hung thick in the air.

You felt him slowly push the tip in, just enough to make your breath catch. A gasp escaped your lips, his size stretching you, testing your limits. His brow furrowed with restraint, the muscles in his arms tensing as he held back, waiting for you to adjust. His eyes searched yours, intense and burning with something primal, yet laced with care, checking to see if you were fine. You nodded slightly, biting your lip, and he moved again, pressing in just a little more, but it’s so much—he’s so much. That goddamn cock.

Your body tightened instinctively around him, and he groaned, low and guttural, the sound sending a ripple of need straight through you. He was so big that every inch was a slow, deliberate stretch, each movement making your breath hitch in your throat. His eyes never left yours, his lips parted slightly as he panted softly, the strain of holding back evident on his face. You were both gasping, lost in the feeling of him filling you inch by inch, the overwhelming sensation forcing you to arch your back slightly into him.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he was fully inside, and you could feel him throbbing deep within you. The moment hung in the air, both of you frozen in awe, the sheer intensity of the connection leaving you breathless. Your fingers gripped his shoulders as he leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, and for a moment, all you could hear were your ragged breaths mingling together.

Then, slowly, he began to move. His hips rolled gently, sliding out just enough to make you gasp before pressing back in with a smooth, deliberate thrust. The friction was perfect, every inch of him dragging against you, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. Rafe Cameron was fucking you.

With each thrust, your nails dug into his back as you both got lost in the sensation, the pressure building higher and higher. His eyes never left yours, even as his moans deepened, becoming more desperate with every movement. You felt yourself slipping closer to release, every thrust pushing you closer, until you were both gasping and moaning in unison, bodies trembling as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

“Rafe,” you moaned. The sound of you moaning his name was just enough to make him cum inside you but he had to hold back, just a minute.

“I know baby, I know, let it out,” he cooed, feeling how you clenched and pulsated around his rock hard cock.

Rafe’s thrusts became more deliberate, more precise, as if he knew exactly what you needed. Your breath came out in ragged gasps, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. You could feel the tension building deep inside, coiling tighter with each stroke, and he watched you, fully aware of how close you were to falling apart beneath him.

Your moans turned into desperate whimpers, his name slipping from your lips. His hand slid down between your bodies, fingers pressing gently against your clit, rubbing in fast, circular motions. It was too much, the combination of his cock buried deep inside you and the steady pressure on your most sensitive spot sending shockwaves through your body.

Your legs trembled, your thighs tightening around his hips as the pleasure peaked. He thrusted into you harder, each motion pushing you closer to the edge until you couldn’t hold on any longer. With a gasp, your body clenched around him, the tension finally snapping, and the release flooded through you all at once.

You felt it, the rush of liquid escaping you as your orgasm ripped through every muscle in your body. You cried out, your back arching off the bed as you squirted around his cock, the slick wetness coating him. His name fell from your lips again, but it was barely a sound, lost in the overwhelming ecstasy that took over.

Rafe groaned, his hips faltering for a moment as he felt the wet heat surrounding him. His cock twitched inside you, still moving as he rode out your orgasm with you, his own breath coming in sharp gasps.

Your vision blurred, the intensity leaving you dizzy, but Rafe didn’t stop. He kept thrusting, slow and deliberate now, letting you ride out every last wave of pleasure until you were finally left panting and spent beneath him, your body limp and trembling in his arms.

“C-can I? Inside you? Please baby,” he whined, his thrusts becoming more desperate and sloppy.

“Mhm, yes, fill me up.”

You could feel the way his cock throbbed inside you, the tension in his body coiled tight. His breathing grew ragged, each exhale punctuated by a low, guttural moan. He was so deep, filling you so completely that you could barely breathe.

His eyes were locked on yours, the intensity of his gaze burning through you as his hips move with desperate precision. Every thrust sent another surge of pleasure coursing through your body. His grip on your hips tightened, and his pace grew uneven. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, each movement more frantic than the last.

You wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling him in deeper, and he let out a strangled groan, his forehead dropped to rest against yours. His lips brushed against yours as he panted, breathless and overwhelmed, on the edge of losing control.

“Fuck,” he gasped, his voice low and strained, “I’m so close baby, so goddamn close. Gonna fill this pretty little tight pussy.”

His hips stuttered and you can feel the heat pooling between you, the friction building until it was unbearable. His hand gripped the sheets beside your head, muscles straining as he finally gave in. His eyes fluttered shut, his jaw clenching, and with a deep, shuddering moan, he thrusted into you one last time, burying himself as deep as he can go.

You felt him pulse inside you, his cock twitching as he spilled into you, filling you with a hot rush and you came once more, this time, with him. His body tensed above you, every muscle taut as he let out a ragged groan of release, the sound vibrating through the air. His warmth flooded through you, his orgasm drawing out in long, throbbing waves as he rocked against you, riding out every last pulse of pleasure.

He collapsed against you, his breath coming in harsh gasps, his body trembled from the intensity of it all. You could feel him still throbbing inside you, his release mingling with yours, the heat of his cum filling you completely. For a moment, neither of you moved, both of you lost in the sensation, hearts pounding in sync.

Slowly, he pulled back just enough to look into your brown eyes, his expression softening as he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. His breathing was still heavy, but there was a look of contentment on his face, a quiet satisfaction in the aftermath of the overwhelming pleasure and the need he felt for you over the past few months.

He collapsed beside you, bringing your frame close to him as you continued staring into each others eyes. Rafe Cameron fucked you in your bed.

“Are you okay beautiful, I didn’t hurt you did I?” he whispered.

“More than okay.”

He smiled and kissed your sweaty forehead, your bodies intertwined on your pink sheets that were wet with your arousal.

“Can we stay like this all night?” he asked, sounding shy.

“As long as you hold me throughout.”

Rafe was satisfied with the answer, he would hold you that night and the many other nights he would ditch his friends and his family to come see you and vice versa. He finally got what he wanted. You. Nothing else mattered.

A/N: Put my whole ass into this since it’s the second time i’ve written for Rafe, requests are open!

[tetzoro]

MESSY — ༉‧₊˚.

fr. zoro roronoa !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : zoro has always been a little messy, so what else do you expect when he gets to have his way with you?

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader. mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, prone bone, creampies, mentions of spit & sweat, light choking, use of pet names (pretty baby, messy girl), mentions of overstimulation, honestly it’s just filth. — WC : 1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : needed to write this out because it haunts my mind. thank you for reading & enjoy !!!

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

zoro’s just so messy. it’s especially true when he drinks, the sake dribbling down his chin as he takes steady gulps of the liquid. always finishing by wiping it off with the back of his hand, and depending on how far gone he is — he’ll lick that right up too.

it’s hard not to let your mind wander when you see him like this. it’s a stark difference to the way he fights, concise with a strategy meant to take down his opponents swiftly. it’s even different than the way he can be with others. no, it’s something more pure, driven by instinct.

his tongue will dip out of his mouth, swiping his bottom lip to clean up any remaining sake before a barely noticeable smile blooms. but you see it — you always do. your ever observant eye on him has you knowing more about him that he would think.

they say curiosity killed the cat but you wonder if death could ever taste this sweet. maybe heaven was found with zoro between your thighs, sloppily running his tongue all over your clit, spitting and sucking on it like his life depended on it. acting like a man starved for the honeyed nectar only you can give him, making sure to consume every last drop, unbothered by how many times you’ve cum already.

or maybe heaven was found here — caged under his body as you lay on your stomach, his body pressed on top of yours as his overwhelming girth stretches you out more with each thrust he gives you.

it didn’t start in this position, not by a long shot. after a few rounds you had no choice but to fold into yourself. propping yourself up on all fours took a heavier toll the more orgasms you had. like a fawn learning to walk, your limbs gave out under you, falling flat onto the bed— but he didn’t stop, not that you wanted him too.

he stayed upright at first, both hands firmly set on your hips as he pulls you back onto him. even if you tried to squirm out of his hold, trying, begging to get a moment of reprieve, he can’t stop. your silken walls just felt too good wrapped around his cock. it hurtles you into another release, taking him down with you — literally.

so now, he has you in a little headlock to hold you in place, his bicep keeping a light pressure against your neck that made you see stars. you’ve lost all vocal control at this point, moans steadily flowing out of your mouth, mewling nonsense mixed with his name.

you can hear zoro speaking — feel the rumble of his voice against your back and shivering up your spine, but there’s no way you can process it right now. your eyes are rolled so far towards the back of your head you swear you can practically see the heaven you’re feeling right now.

his toned chest slides along your back, your bodies both slick with sweat from the intensity of his thrusts. every part of you feels split open by him, but you knew deep down he’d stitch you back together once he was through. he always did.

whatever he was saying before has died out into soft grunts, his lips practically kissing your ear as he presses further into you. everything felt too hot, too close, but your mind was too dizzy to care. his cock continuously pumping his own cum back into you as it kisses the spongy spot deep inside of you.

you claw and writhe against the sheets, your body trembling as your release sneaking up on you. again. you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum on his cock alone but judging by how disturbingly damp the sheets are, you’d say it was more than you could count on one hand.

and you just couldn’t stop shaking — your legs twitching under him, your fingers trying to find purchase in something, anything. it all felt too much, but you were right on the edge, ready to leap into the abyss knowing he’d always be there to catch you.

“gonna cum again f’me pretty baby?” he grunts out the question so close to you that you finally hear him.

he moves his arm from where it was lightly pressed against your neck as he starts to let up — his hand reassuringly grasping yours for a moment as you search for something to hold onto. he presses a surprisingly tender kiss between your shoulder blades, savoring the soft whimper you let out for him.

“please- ‘m so close!” you can barely choke the words out, each thrust he gives you has you gasping for air. you swear you can feel him all the way up in your lungs, whisking away every breath you take.

the other arm that he used to prop himself up slides down under your stomach to wrap around your waist, using it as leverage to go even deeper.

in this position, your swollen nub easily catches against the bunched up sheets that lay under you — and he knew it judging by the way he kept pushing you down against it. the game he was playing was unfair but you’d never tell him anything different, not when it felt so good.

“then cum.” he whispers, squeezing both of his hands on your supple skin as he continues driving himself into you.

with his blessing, you let go. the pleasure was mind numbing, your body locking up before releasing it in a sweet ecstasy that has you crying out his name. it didn’t take long for zoro to finish after that. frantically rutting into you, the sound of his thighs slapping against your ass fills the room as you squeeze around his cock, desperately attempting to milk every last drop out of him.

seeing you almost helplessly confined under him had him moving even faster, watching as your body bounces against the mattress from the force of his thrusts as you fight against overstimulation, eagerly awaiting for him to fill you up again. and he’d never want to disappoint his baby.

he pushes all the way inside of you, letting out a strangled groan of your name as he finishes deep within you, finally giving you what you want. you weren’t sure how many times he had come either, but you could already feel it oozing out of your overused cunt and onto the sheets.

“always so messy.” he slurs, an ounce of pride in his voice as he lays on top of you. like he’s one to talk. if you weren’t so fucked out, you’d let him have a piece of your mind. but instead, he’s gently turning you over and cradling you in his strong arms, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss against your sticky temple. he looks at you so softly the words die in your throat. he lets out a breathy chuckle, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “my messy girl.”

taglist : @fuyuaika @otoyastoy @ushiwhacka @margumis @oooohno @the-tenth-shadow @aeternussidera @strawberrystepmom

[justmymindandstuff]

his choice - Cregan Stark x WifeReader

summary: Cregan and you have lost your child. A miscarriage after only a few moons in your pregnancy. While you sink into your grief, Cregan has to deal with his Lords. Until they make a suggestion that drives Cregan to the brink.

words: 1.932

warnings: Miscarriage, talk about miscarriage, pregnancy topics, canon-typical misogyny, grief, threats

a/n: first time writing Cregan. Hope you like it. English is not my first language // Gif not mine// AO3// no use of Y/N. I'm not happy with the title but unfortunately I couldn't think of anything better.

requests are open

Cregan hates the heat. But you need it. So he endures it. For you. You, his sweet wife. You never got used to the cold. Despite your thick gloves, you regularly feel chilly. You never complained, but Cregan sees you dancing back and forth to keep yourself a little warm. He then pulls you into his arms and wraps his arms around you. His heart skips a beat every time you snuggle into his arms and rest your head on his chest. His sweet, good, beautiful wife. The rarest flower he has picked for himself.

Cregan carefully opens the door to the chambers there Lady Stark. The warmth that greets him makes the Northman pause for a moment. Immediately sweat forms on his forehead.

Your chambers are the hottest in all of Winterfell. One of the hot springs directly under the tall tower that continuously warms the walls of your chambers. These chambers are perfect for you. You are used to warm summer days in your home. You had never seen snow before you came to Winterfell. The cold environment and the icy wind are getting to you. You are not used to the cold. Cregan has made it his mission to keep you warm. He had extra thick capes made for you, which are now draped over your narrow shoulders whenever you leave the castle. In the evening, the servants place a hot stone on your side of the bed to warm it up.

Or as his lords would say: weak. Cregan would love to behead them all for it.

Cregan pushes the thought aside and takes a step into the dark room. His eyes need a moment to adjust to the darkness. You had thick curtains hung in front of the windows. The air is stuffy and warm. Cregan's gaze goes to the bed. Your slender form is hidden under the blanket, only a few strands of your hair peek out. He knows that you heard him. Still, you don't react.

"Love?" he addresses you directly. He is trying to keep his voice under control, but a lump forms in his throat. Every time he sees you, his heart breaks. You haven't left your bed and chambers for almost two weeks.

Cregan can't bring himself to go further into the chambers. Your pain pulses through the air in this room and meets his own. Tears well up in his eyes, but he blinks them away. He has to be strong for you. He tries again, this time saying your name. The furs and blankets rustle slightly as you move and turn your head. Cregan meets your gaze with dull, bloodshot eyes. You are way too pale and Cregan knows that you hardly eat anything. Your cheeks are slightly sunken, your hair is stringy and unkempt. Nevertheless, he can't help but think that you are beautiful. He would most like to pull you into his arms and tell you that everything will be alright again. The pain will pass. He wants to promise you that. But he can't. He can't promise you anything. You both know that this pain will never completely go away again. The pain and your grief are now a part of you. Woven into every cell of your bodies and connected with your souls.

Not since that night. The Lord Commander of the Night's Watch had been visiting Winterfell, and in his honor, Cregan had organized a small feast. There was music, wine, and dancing. That night, you made love to eachother and fell asleep tightly embraced.

Your desperate, pain-filled scream woke him up. Cregan had immediately called for the Maester. But the blood-stained sheets and your tears revealed everything he needed to know. You have lost your child. Again. Winterfell's Maester had done what he could, but it was too late.

" I have a meeting with the council. Wil you join me?" he asks in a quiet voice, even though he already knows the answer.

"No, not today," you say and turn your gaze away. Cregan has to suppress a sigh, his jaw tightens. Nevertheless, he tries to make his voice sound gentle as he asks.

"Do you want to get up today?" he already knows this answer too.

"No. Please leave me alone." you whisper.

Tears well up in Cregan's eyes again. He lets his gaze rest on you for a moment longer, then he turns away. He can't force you to get up. Cregan closes the door behind him. For a brief moment, he leans his back against the wooden door. Then he takes a deep breath and straightens his shoulders.

He has to be Lord Stark now. He has duties. Even though he longs to get into bed with you and hold you. Cregan wants to be your support. The familiar corridors of his home bring him little comfort.

He thinks about how you usually walk through the halls of Winterfell on his arm. For every step he takes, you have to take two. He wishes that you come out of your chambers and return to his side. At the same time, he wants to imitate you and crawl into his bed to be overwhelmed by his grief. Cregan's heart breaks as his steps lead him further away from you.

Cregan pushes all these thoughts aside and fully slips into the role of the Lord. The guards open the door for him and he enters the council chamber. The Lords rise as he enters and lower their heads. Cregan walks through the room and sits down at the head of the table. His Lords sat down again. Cregan lets his gaze wander over everyone.

"Why was the council convened?"

His Lords exchange a few glances, some of them look down, others look around the room, or at the cups in front of them. Not a single one of his Lords looks to him. Cregan's neck hairs stand on end as the mood in the room shifts. He searches the gazes of his Lords, wanting an explanation for their strange behavior. Another moment of tense silence passes, and then Lord Karstark begins to speak.

"My Lord, it's about your wife." he looks at his hands, not to Cregan. Normally, he would not tolerate such disrespect, but the tense atmosphere in the room makes the young Lord Stark hesitate.

"What is with my wife?" he asks in a dark voice. A few of his Lords shift nervously in their seats. Lord Bolton looks at the door as if he wants to run away.

Cregan notices how his entire body tenses up.

Lord Karstark straightens his shoulders and meets Cregan's gaze, but as he begins to speak, he looks down at the table in front of him.

"We are all, of course, concerned about Lady Stark's health," he begins. Cregan has to suppress a snort at this lie. "However, we also need to be concerned about the North. The North needs an heir."

Cregans heart skips a beat before hot anger courses through his body. He hopes he misheard. But when he looks at his Lords, he knows they are serious.

Karstark swallows once but then continues speaking. "It is obvious that your Lady wife is unable to give us an heir."

Cregan would like to throw up at his words. "What do you want to tell me with that?"

"We know, of course, that your marital affairs are none of our business..." says Lord Mormont.

Lord Karstark hesitates a bit, then reaches for his wine. Silence spreads through the room.

Cregan's shoulders tense up. "My Lords."his voice is deep. "Speak."

"Correct. It´s none of your business," interrupts Cregan. Angrily, he clenches his hands into fists. "I think that's enough for today."

"Lord Stark. Please." Karstark had apparently found his courage again. "Maybe you should look for another wife, one who can fulfill her duties."

"How dare you?" a hot rage courses through his entire body. All his Lords flinch. Cregan's shoulders tremble with rage. No one meets his dark gaze. "Never again will any of you speak of this, or even think about it. And now get out of here. Before I change my mind and execute all of you for treason."

Cregan is on his feet before the words have fully faded in the room. The wine glasses on the table clink as his fists slam angrily onto the tabletop.

For a moment, no one moves. Then the room is filled with the scraping of chairs and footsteps. The door falls into the lock. Cregan takes a deep breath. Try to breathe the anger out. Slowly, his hands begin to calm down again. He counts four more heartbeats and then turns to the door. His steps automatically lead him back to your chambers.

When the door slams shut behind him, you flinch. Confused, you sit up a little in bed. He never visits you at noon. He comes to your chambers in the morning to wake you up and in the evening to tell you about his day.

"What happened?" you ask weakly. Cregan takes off his coat and sets it aside. Nevertheless, it is much too hot for him.

"Nothing," he says, but his voice trembles. Then he comes over to you and sits on the edge of the bed. You lift your head slightly and look up at him. Cregan gently strokes your head. You close your eyes for a moment.

"What did the Lords say?"

"Nothing important."

You sigh softly. "You were always a bad liar. Please tell me."

Cregan shakes his head. "It's unimportant, Love."

You sigh and then sit up completely. Cregan slides back a little. You reach for his hand.

"Tell me."

He hesitates for a moment. Then he begins to speak. "They suggested that I cast you aside and take a new wife."

"A wife who can give you heirs." you finish his sentence. Cregan nods.

Your breath comes trembling."They are right," you then whisper.

Cregan's heart tightens and he feels the tears burning behind his eyes. "No." he whispers with a choked voice. He places his large hand on your cheek and gently caress you. "You have to listen to me carefully. It's not your fault! Do you understand me?" he looks into your eyes and waits until you slightly nod. A few tears run down your cheeks, and he gently wipes them away.

He kisses your forehead and finally lets himself start to cry. He wraps you in his arms and you bury your face in his chest.

"I would never give you up, my love. I don't care what my Lords say or what they want. You are my wife. You are my Lady Stark and I love you." his voice trembles with every word and he pulls you closer to him. You tremble in his arms but try to calm yourself by taking deep breaths.

"What if I really can't give you an heir and you realize in 20 years that you actually need an heir? Then it will be too late."

"No! I don't care. Love. I want you. You are enough for me. You as a person and not you as a way to an potential heir. If I had to choose I would choose you every time." his gaze pierces yours. Your tear-streaked gaze reflects his own. He now lets the tears flow freely down his cheeks."I love you so much. And that will never change."

Cregan takes a deep breath and then places his hand on your cheek, gently lifting your chin so you have to look into his eyes.

You nod slightly. "I love you too," you say.

[myladysapphire]

Love, the death of duty

duty part two

married near six years, you learn that duty is truly the death of love, and yet when Robbs brother, jon, returns to winterfell, you find that perhpas you where wrong, perhaps love is the death of duty.

You can find the requests here and here

word count: 3,838

CW: MDI, 18+, Smut, cheating, p in v, fingering, oral (f reciving), slight breeding kink (if you squint), not beta read!

Jon Snow x Frey!reader/ Robb Stark x Frey!reader

Masterlist | Part one

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

Jon snow had been at the wall for near ten years before he returned home. Ten years, six as lord commander before he was betrayed by his own men. And though he had gone to the wall of his own volition, a choice he made to better himself, to find a place in the world, he knew it was time to return to Winterfell. His brother Rob had written him begging him and asking for his homecoming, and even declaring as King he could commanded him home, and now he was finally listening.

He didn’t know what to expect, if he would be welcomed or scorned.

But one thing he did not expect was you.

He knew his brother had married, had had children, but never did he expect you to be his wife.

Someone of such beauty and kindness, and with such a profound view of duty it made his heart ache.

He had expected you to be harsh, almost too similar to the lady Catelyn. But instead, you had shown him nothing but kindness.

“Jon Snow?” you asked, approaching his as he brought his horse into the stable.

“My lady” he greeted, head bowing in recognition.

“It’s an honour to finally meet you” she spoke, a soft smile on her lips. And Jon had been struck instantly by you, you smile had stirred something in him that he had never felt before. And the way you had gone out of your way to greet him, even walking him to his rooms, rooms you had picked and had made ready for him.

You had made him feel welcomed in a way no one had before at Winterfell. Of course, his half siblings had always welcomed him, but he never found a home here, until you made sure he did.

“How far along are you” he asked, as you walked him to his chambers.

“Near eight moons now.”

“And it is your third?”

You flinched, had his eyes never left yours, stuck on you at every moment, he was sure he would have missed it.

“No, my second” you spoke that part with happiness, the second however was a tone he had hear many times, the tone of a lady fulfilling her duty, “Robbs third”.

He had never thought Robb would father a bastard, he knew of Jons woes and how hard his life had been, and yet he had actively gone about it. He felt nothing but anger at the fact and even more at the clear pain in your eyes. It was clear from the start what your marriage was, there was no love or respect, simply wedding vows long broken.

He shook his head in disappointment, “I am sorry, my lady, I did not know” he hesitated for a moment, as the doors to his chambers opened. They were different from his youth, where he now slept in the same halls as his half siblings and not in the servants quarters as he once had, “Robb only spoke of a wife and two children, I never thought-“

“Do not worry, Jon…I am not offended” you shook your head, turning to face him, “it is something I must bear…not you”.

“I am sorry, my lady” he bowed his head, as he entered his room.

“I hope it is to your liking, I…Sansa told me a few things that you liked in her visit a few moons ago, and Arya helped find the things you had left from before”.

“It is perfect, my lady…truly it is more than enough”.

You smiled, insisting he call you by your name, “let me know of anything you may need” you said turning to leave.

And Jon remained struck by you and your kindness, not many would make a bastard feel so welcome, especially one scorned as you had been.

They say that duty is the death of love, and that love is the death of duty.

You believed you were the very meaning of this statement.

Your marriage was a one of duty, such duty that love had died before it could even blossom, and where Robb had neglected his own duty to you, in favour of love, causing duty to die for him, and love to blossom. But not with you, never with you.

You had known that every day of your marriage.

Even more so the day she had died.

He had spent every moment of her labours beside her, a vast contrast to yours.

Holding her hand and crying tears of joy and then of grief.

And you realised you were only a duty, a duty he happily forgot of.

And yet for a year you had chosen to ignore it, only for more hurt to be caused.

And in the  five moons since that day, the day where he chooses the ghost of a dead woman over his wife, you realised there would never be love where there was duty.

Though you painted the image of the dutiful wife, happy and content to be a wife, mother and lady, you still craved love.

Desired it.

Even if it was not with your husband.

There was nothing, not even respect to be found with him.

Not when know you lost all hope of ever having a marriage of love. It seemed to be the burden of woman. Where men can fuck and love as many women as they desire, woman are more often than not left with the duty of marriage.

You and Robb were strangers now, you had moved away from your old chambers, though still in the great keep, your rooms were now closer to Jon’s quarters than his.

Jon.

Your mind was stuck on him, though he seemed shy and guarded, you couldn’t stop of thinking of him. Assessing every detail of him, taking in every word he spoke, every action he did.

Of the ways his eyes followed you, how he seemed to hang on every word you said.

In all honestly, she sought him out more often than not, they even developed a routine. Spending their lunches together and always at beside each other at dinner.

And though you both had your duties, he had been given as hand of the king, and yet despite his ever-building duties, you both saw each other much more often than what was appropriate.

He made time for you where Robb neglected you.

He cared for you where Robb scorned you.

And as time passed, you found Cregan more in the presence of Jon than his own father, found yourself looking for Jon wherever you went you slowly realised that you loved Jon in a way you had only dreamt about loving Robb.

He was always there, either by your side or in your thoughts.

Whereas your husband was never there either in presence or thought, even less in the lives of his children.

He had no quells when Talissa mother came from the summer isles and took Minisa away, eland you had even less. A part of you wished you had cared more, having taken care of her for the past two years and yet you only felt slight relief when she left, though you would never admit it.

Even as you remember the conversation you and her had had years before.

“do you hate me?” you remember her asking, as she bounced baby Minisa in her arms, and you Cradled Cregan in yours.

“why do you think that?” you sighed, having only been civil, out of fear of facing a side of your husband you did not think existed.

“why shouldn’t i?”

“you are the reason I will never find love in my marriage, I resent you for it but I suppose you resent me for marrying Robb, for being his duty”

“I am more jealous, I am simple a mistress, the mother of his bastard, you are the wife the mother of his heir. You have everything-“

“no I don’t” you spoke softly, “I do not have love, respect or happiness in my marriage, I do not have a husband that wants me” you placed Cregan softly in his crib. “I do not hate you, but I will not be your friend…I can’t not when you have stolen the one thing I wanted…love”

“I didn’t mean too”

“I know, and that’s why I don’t hate you…Robb is the one at fault here, not us…and yet I must face the burden of his mistakes, I must act for duty where he can act for love…if I hate anyone it is him”

She nodded in understanding.

You stood in silence, watching your babes as they fell to sleep, neither of you saying a word.

As most of your time was spent with her.

“would you keep them apart?” she spoke after moments.

“they are siblings, half or not…I would not keep them apart if they did not want to be”

“good” she smiled.

And yet that had changed.

The day she died, the bed fever taking her and yet she had asked for you as she suffered in pain.

“do not hate her” she breathed, “I do not ask you to love her…but please don’t hate her” “I won’t” you swallowed, a feeling of sadness washing over you.

“my mother- my mother will come for her…please don’t let her” she breathed heavily, “I want her with Robb…please” she coughed, her eyes drooping.

Robb barged back in the room, stopping the conversation. And moons later you could do little to respect her final words as her mother took Minisa, little as Robb command her gone, and even less as a weight began to lift of your shoulder.

You hated it, how easy it was to forgo a dying woman’s final words, but you had forced her mother to write to Robb and allow Minisa to write to Creagan. You would let them know there sibling even if they were an ocean apart.

Your marriage was a farce and the birth of your second child was all the proof you needed to show that.

A moon since Jon return and yet you had grown more closer to him in a moon than you had with your husband in six years.

Where Robb had left both times you went into labour, taking days to visit, Jon had held your hand through it all, and had been the first after you and the midwife to hold the babe.

If anyone saw you both, the way he was with you every day and night, sleeping in your rooms, albeit on a coat, it  would have been easy to assume he was your husband, especially with the way his gaze never left yours, his hand holding yours through your pains and never letting go, even after.

“What will you name him?” he asked, after you had finally been left alone, the babe cradled in his arm.

“Eddard, mayhaps” you started, though there was hesitation at the name, “I know Robb wanted to name…to name Minisa that is she were a boy”.

“So not Eddard” Jon spoke, handing the babe to you, he crouched to your side, “mayhaps Edric or Benjen?” he suggested, Benjen you assumed after his uncle.

You hummed, “Edric is a good name” tasting the name on your tongue, “Cregan and Edric”

“So, Edric Stark?” he spoke, tone soft as he gazed up at you.

“yes”

With the birth of your second, you deemed your Marriage officially over, you had given him and heir and a spare and even then, his sister Sansa had married Willis Tyrell and birthed her own sons, and Rickon had begun to court an Erena Glover. You were sure Robb would find no shortage of heirs and so was he. And he was more than content to let you be, ignoring your presence at any time bar feasts and officially Gatherings, or on occasion the few times he and you were in the same room with your children.

You and Jon however, your friendship had blossomed into so much more.

With lingering stares and casual touches, you felt your heart blossom in his presence.

no longer did you feel the chains of duty, no longer did the word duty fill your mind and taunt your nights.

Now the word love did.

Jon had been here six moons now and you were thoroughly and completely in love with him.

Your mind was always on him, you time spent with him or your children. Even Cregan and Edric spent more time with him than Robb.

Robb seemed to care little for the family, stuck in his own misery, misery he made himself and every effort to get out of it was half arsed and only done as a distraction with no true meaning to it.

But Love, you finally knew what it was, you felt it when Jon looked at you and when you looked at him and yet neither of you said it.

Neither of you were prepared to cross the line.

You were still married by law and in the eyes of the gods, and yet there was no marriage. Nothing of your marriage followed the meaning of the word.

Your heart belonged to Jon, you just needed to tell him.

A year into Jons homecoming and your fleeting romance though nothing ever was said or acted upon.

But now you stood under the weirwood tree, your heart bared to Jon.

“Jon” you whispered, his head in your lap, your hand running through his curls.

“yes?” he hummed, focusing his gaze away from the book he had been reading.

“I…I love you” you final spoke, after moons of feeling it, of the sheer desire for him and want to bare yourself to him. And yet you had waited, for what you did not know, but today, in this moment it felt perfect.

He smiled, a pure smile of joy at your words, as he quickly moved of your lap “I love you” he spoke in return, his face moving inches away from yours, your breaths becoming one for a moment before your lips where on his.

You had never kissed anyone before, even after all these years of marriage, only a small peck on your wedding day.

But this, a slow passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of your emotions, your love into it was so different than a small dutiful peck.

Your lips followed his movements, moving with his, as he pulled you into his lap. Your hands moving to his hair as you continued to kiss.

A low moan left you, only to be swallowed by Jon as he began to kiss you harder, more passionately.

“Jon” you whimpered, separating your lips from his.

His face chasing yours as you moved away.

“what is it?” he hummed, his hands caressing your sides.

“anyone could see us…” though the thrill of being caught was not lost on you, you were still a married woman, and your children’s legitimacy would be put into question if you were caught.

He hummed, “come with me” he spoke, moving you off his lap before standing a reaching for your hand.

You had thought you had explored the gods woods in its entirety, found every nook and cranny and yet it seemed a youth spent running the woods had allowed Jon to find a spot only years spent getting lost in the woods would allow you to find.

It was a small cave, covered in leaves and blocked off by trees and endless bushes.

A small whole a the top allowed the summer sun to shine through, lighting up the small space and to reveal a moss covered floor.

“we could go back to your rooms…or mine” he spoke, hesitantly, unsure if you would approve of his small little space. It was clear that he had been here a good few time, like this was his space away from everyone, and the basket sat in the corner was a clear indicator of it. With a blanket, a book and an old bottle of wine.

you turned to face him, “its fine…we can save a bed for another time” you said, before leaning up and pressing your lips to his once more, in a heated, sloppy kiss.

He slowly backed you into the wall as he kissed you back, his hands gripping your waist as he began to play the laces on the side of your dress.

You gently pushed him off you, sending him a teasing smile as you started to undress in front of him.

You had never been fully naked in front of anyone, not even Robb, something always stayed on, a barrier from truly being intimate.

And as Jon joined you, undressing himself and allowing you both to stand bare before the other, you had never felt more intimate. Never felt that a moment was more right.

With you sat upon the blanket, Jon moved towards you, caressing your face and leaning his body over yours.

Your eyes locked in a heated gaze as your lips modelled together in a heated, passionate kiss.

His body grinding against yours as his hands moved to cup your breasts.

“your beautiful” he spoke, placing soft kisses on your lips, before moving down your body towards your breasts and placing soft kisses around your nipple, before taking your breast in to his mouth, licking and sucking as he did.

You moaned as he alternated between your breasts, Your gripped his hair, tugging softly at each flick of his tongue.

“your perfect” he spoke once more, letting go of your breast, “I love you” he whispered before moving down your body and licked at your folds, causing you to whimper and moan even more.

Your hands found there way to his hair once more. And they always seemed to, you loved his hair, his curls, even more so now as the peeped out between your thigsh as he lapped at your cunt.

“Jon” you moaned, as you felt a pleasure your own fingers nor Robb had ever given you before, it was overwhelming, the sensation filling your senses as he continued to lick at your clit, and slowly brought his fingers to your entrance.

Groaning as his fingers entered your, he relished in the tightness of your cunt.

He continued to lap at your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you, licking at your heat as if he was a man starved and you were his last meal.

You felt your peak fast approaching, your hands gripping and tugging his hair harder, your legs wrapping around his head in away you were sure would choke him.

“JON!” you screamed as your peak finally hit your cunt clenching tightly around his fingers as you came.

You swallowed roughly as he moved up your body, taking your mouth with his in a possessive kiss, the taste of you evident on your tongue.

His hard cock was positioned between your thighs.

“can i?” he breathed against your lips.

“yes.” You breathed, and he finally entered you.

He slowly rocked his hips into yours, allowing you time to adjust to his cock.

After so long, with only your fingers, the feeling of a cock, of Jon was more than enough to send you over the edge as he became to thrust in and out of you, hi space moving picking up, as your legs wrapped around his waist.

He groaned into your neck, as your cunt tightened around him.

Your peak fast approaching.

“I’m going to cum” he moaned into you, as your cunt fluttered around his cock.

“gods” you moaned, your arms pulling hi closer to you, urging him to finish inside of you.

“where?” he breathed, his pace moving faster and faster as he chased his pleasure, as you came down from your own.

“Inside!” you moaned.

He looked at you unsure, but as your legs pushed in closer to you, your hands arms pulling you in as you urged him to cum, he let go and his seed filled you.

And a part of you hoped it took root.

Days blurred together as your affair blossomed.

You woke up and fell asleep in his arms every night. Every meal was shared. And you treated Jon like a husband, and you were treated as a wife.

Words of love and acts of affection was shared and no ounce of you regretted your actions.

Love.

The word circled his mind when he looked at you and Jon.

 Robb Stark, with all his faults and flaws, would be the first to admit he had ruined all chances of being a good husband the day he feel in love with Talisa, and now, when he had given himself into the desires of wanting you for a wife, of the comforts that came with it, he had gone and ruined it, worse than he ever could of imagined he would.

He was not cruel or cunning and yet too you he was.

To you he was a neglectful man, and absent father and a terrible husband.

He would be the first to admit that part was true.

But he was a good king, that had to account for something?

But now you had found love as he once had, but with his own brother and no part of him wanted to stop it, though he craved the idea of him in Jons place, as he was sure a part of Jon craved his own place.

He watched you both, how your eyes danced with one another in silent conversation only you both understood, how your hand was always touching him or his was always touching you.

That he thought he could live with, he himself a cheating husband. First a mistress now whores in brothels.

A wife having and affair with his brother was fine, as long as they were happy.                                                                      

Even after he had caught them in bed, or as she told him of the babe in her belly.

But then he started to watch you both carefully, how you interacted together in public and in private, of the makeshift marriage you had made, and of how Jon had become what he had failed at.

And he realised just how bad of a father he had become.

“father!” Cregan shouted in greeting, but not at him, at Jon.

He hadn’t even seen him, and had ran straight for Jon, who had swept him up in his arms and placed a kiss to his cheek.

It wasn’t his first time calling Jon father, and Robb was sure it wouldn’t be the last, not as you walked over, Edric in your arms, only for him to say “papa” at the sight of Jon.

He swallowed harshly, storming out of the room before they could see or hear him.

And he suffered the harsh reality that you once had, but this time, it was deserved.

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[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

My Alpha

This is kind of a long one shot (5619 words!), but I thought I'd try my hand at the ABO!/Omegaverse. Hope you like it!

Being an omega wasn’t always a bad thing.  At least that’s what she told herself repeatedly as she religiously took hormone blocking birth control pills and wore scent blockers on the daily.  Y/N hadn’t had a heat in years and wasn’t planning on letting up any time soon.  She had started working as a personal assistant for the Avengers under Tony Stark years before, going through the Sokovia Accords debacle, surviving the Blip, losing Natasha, Tony, Steve, T'Challa, and all the other strange and traumatic things that happened during her tenure.  She had denied her biology to get this job, not wanting it to affect her performance or be a target while being surrounded by literal super Alphas in this field.  And as hard as the job was, she loved it.

One of the greatest highlights was gaining Bucky Barnes as a friend.  While other Alphas she had come across were domineering, he was compassionate and kind.  He very rarely lost his composure like others did during high pressure situations in missions, and never fought over who was in charge.  He was incredibly careful to make sure everyone around him felt comfortable in his presence.  After finally shaking the Winter Soldier programming he didn’t want to ever lose control of himself again, and with the super soldier serum messing with his hormones to the extent that he was nearly feral during ruts, he would isolate himself away to keep her and others safe.  

Y/N felt like she could talk to him about anything, and he felt the same.  She was his sanctuary after rough missions, one of the few people that could break him out of a deep depressive state or the nightmares that still plagued him.  He knew she was an Omega but could barely smell her because of her blockers, which he both loved and hated.  Loved because it made it so they could be friends without the weird biological dynamics getting in the way, and hated because he was super curious about what her scent was.  They had fallen for each other long ago, but were both too afraid to do anything about it.

As they both relaxed during a rare weekend off they got on the topic of Omega versus Alpha traits.  “I get it, Alphas can be rough, but don’t you want to mate someday?  Find someone special to settle down with?  Maybe have a family?”

She sighed.  “Of course I do, Buck.”

“Then what are you afraid of?” he asked gently.

“Not having a clear choice,” she answered simply, giving him a sharp look.  “I don’t want my biology to decide my fate.  So many Omegas get stuck being mated with bad Alphas because their heats were uncontrollable and the Alpha wouldn’t take no for an answer.  I know that I’m predestined to be a nurturer.  Hell, that’s what my job is now, taking care of all of you guys!  But I should get to choose who I end up with based on love, not by body’s reactions.” Bucky nodded in understanding, looking down at his intertwined hands.  “Do you want to settle down someday?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.  “I just don’t know how it would work out.  This job…my past.  It all points towards disaster at any given time.”

She slid over to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders awkwardly as she sat next to him.  “You deserve a happy ever after, Bucky.”

“You do, too, you know,” he reminded her, resting his head on top of hers.

“Mmh, maybe someday,” she said wistfully as she undid her embrace and leaned back against the couch.

“So, anyways,” he cleared his throat.  “Is it true that Omegas have a better sense of smell than Alphas or Betas?  Like you can pick up on others’ scents and identify them really well?”

She laughed.  “Yes, it’s true.”

“Really?  Okay, what does…” he scanned the room as other Avengers milled in and out.  “Peter.  What does Spidey smell like?” He tested her, watching her expectantly.

She took a look at Peter across the room, her nose slightly flaring as she took in a whiff from his direction.  “He always smells like fresh bagels to me.  You know the smell of just-baked bread?  Kinda like that.  Mixed with a little bit of hazelnut.”

Bucky looked at her in awe.  “Yeah I kinda get that off of him.  Alphas can smell and track scents but not to that level.”

“Hm, that’s interesting,” she said as her eyebrows furrowed.  

“Now how about Sam?” he asked excitedly, hoping it would be something not so pleasant he could tease him about.

“Ha, Sam is Cajun seasoning with a sweet lemony undertone.  Like really well done seafood,” she answered quickly with a smile on her face, knowing Bucky would be disappointed in that answer.

Bucky frowned as he thought about who to ask of next.  “Okay, how about…Steve?” He knew it was a long shot.  Steve had been gone for a few years now, so she probably wouldn’t remember.  But she gave him a soft smile.

“Steve was smoky, like fireworks.  A summer night that ends with warm apple crisp and melting vanilla ice cream on top,” she said as she stared out the window, a dazed look in her eyes as she remembered him.

“Wow…” Bucky whispered.  “I always got the fireworks, and something like a picnic.  But now that you say it, yeah, apple with vanilla.”

“Yep, he was truly all American,” she winked at him.

He laughed as he turned towards her on the couch.  “How about, um…me?”

She gazed at him, her expression softening as her nose flared again and she huffed out the breath she’d taken.  “Smoky, like Steve, but different.”

“Like gunpowder?” he asked suddenly, his eyes searching hers.  He had been told that before and was hoping they were wrong.

“No, not gunpowder.  More like…” she sniffed again but frowned.  “Do you mind if I…?” she gestured her finger from herself to him.

“Yeah, go ahead,” he said, opening himself up for her to scoot closer to him.  She leaned in towards his neck, the best place to scent someone, and breathed in a slow sniff of him.  She closed her eyes.

“Campfire.  A campfire on the beach.  And the smell of the ocean after it rains,” she said resolutely, opening her eyes to look at him.  Their faces were close as he stared at her.  “But no, not gunpowder,” she reassured him.

“That’s good,” he breathed, his eyes shifting from her eyes down to her lips and back.

Her eyes suddenly widened, her brow furrowing and she pulled herself away quickly.  “I, um…I need to go…excuse me,” she said hurriedly before she jumped off the couch and power-walked down the hall towards her room.

“Wait, Y/N, are you okay?” Bucky stood from the couch as he watched her leave.

“Yeah!  I’ll talk to you later!” she yelled back without looking, her voice sounded strained.

“What the hell?” he asked himself quietly, looking around him like something had jumped out and spooked her.

Once she was out of sight she ran to her room and had Friday bolt the door.  She doubled over in pain and clutched her stomach.  “No way,” she moaned as she reached for her phone and called for help.

“Hey you, how are ya?” Bruce asked when he answered the call.

“Bruce,” her voice was pained as she held in another moan.  “I need help, something’s wrong.”

“What?  What’s going on?” he sounded worried, the rustling of papers and beeping from a screen by him going off.

“It feels…like a heat?  But that’s not possible, right?  We made sure of it,” she grunted as another cramp shot through her abdomen, and just as suddenly as it all started, it suddenly stopped, leaving her gasping.  “Wait, now it stopped?  What the hell is happening?”

“Come down to the lab, right now.  We’ll get you tested.”

She didn’t need to be told twice as she hung up and crept out of her room towards the elevator.  She was able to get in and down to the lab a few floors away without being caught by Bucky or anybody else.  She ran into the lab in a panic.  Bruce was already setting up the medical bay in the back with everything needed to do a check-up, some vials next to the other instruments.

“Hey, let’s take some blood and see what’s going on,” he called out to her when he heard the doors slide open.  She jogged to the bed and hopped up on it, taking off her cardigan so he could access the veins in her arm better.  After a quick routine check up he took a few vials of her blood then stepped out towards all the equipment he had for medical and scientific tests.  

He worked silently as she sat there deep in thought.  It can’t be, she tried to reassure herself.  I’ve been so careful.  Not missed a single pill ever.  This can’t be happening.  After about an hour Bruce came back with a screen in his hand, his eyebrows hung low over his eyes and a frown on his face.

“Y/N, it’s…it’s not working anymore,” he said softly, his eyes sad and confused as he looked at her.

“What do you mean?” she asked hesitantly, her eyes widening.

“The hormone blockers, the pills…your body isn’t responding to them anymore.  Your hormones are syncing back to normal Omega levels.  Your heats are going to come back.”

“No, no no no no no…NO Bruce!  I can’t.  Please, there’s gotta be another pill to try, a shot, an implant, something?  Anything, please?” she began to cry.  

“I’m sorry Y/N.  We already got you the best blockers that are available out there.  If your body is weaning off of them it means your biology is taking over, probably because you’re getting older and it’s fighting back to have a chance at mating.  I’m so sorry,” he showed her the hormone levels on a chart on the screen, pointing out the differences and then setting it down.  “There’s nothing I can do.  Nothing you can do but prepare yourself for it to start again.  And your first one is probably going to be brutal after avoiding them for so long.  You’ll need help–”

“NO!  No, I can’t do this.  I can’t ask some random Alpha for help.  This isn’t fair!” she cried harder, hiding her face in her hands.  Bruce patted her on the back, trying to help ease her pain by giving off a calming scent.  He was also an Omega and knew how much this meant to her.  

“It will be alright, Y/N.  You have friends here who will help you without making it awkward between you and them, or won’t immediately try mating with you during your heat.  They’re good Alphas.  They won’t hurt you or take advantage of you,” he promised.

She tried to calm the loud beating of her heart that was wringing in her ears, a panic attack trying to settle deep in her bones that she was fighting back.  “How long do I have until it comes?” she sighed as she sniffled.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry.  With it being so long since you last had one it could be next week or it could be in a couple of months,” he answered gravely.

“Ugh, great,” she laughed as she wiped her tears away.  “No choice, whatsoever.  My body ultimately got to decide for me after all.  Wonderful,” she spat as she jumped down off the bed.  “Thank you, Bruce, for testing.  I just…I need to go sleep this off, I don’t know,” she said, giving him a quick hug and then leaving the lab.  

She took the elevator back up to her floor, her eyes stinging from the hot tears still slowly falling down.  Her heat was coming back, and with a vengeance.  She would need help.  Who would she ask?  Any of the unmated superhero Alphas would probably say yes, though she knew she only wanted one.  But how could she ask this of him?  And if he did help, how could she go on with their friendship as if nothing had happened between them afterwards?

The elevator opened and she trudged into the common room.  The floor was already dark as twilight set in and everyone had split off to their rooms.  She slipped into the kitchen since she missed dinner while down in the lab to grab something to eat, although she wasn’t particularly hungry.  As she made herself a sandwich she turned to grab a knife then saw a figure in the corner at the dining table.

“Jesus!  Fuck, Bucky you scared me,” she gasped, holding a hand over her heart.

“Sorry, honey,” he grunted as he sat watching her.  “Why are you crying?”

She stiffened as she looked at him, trying to act nonchalant as she grabbed the knife and turned back to her sandwich.  “I’m not, I’m just tired,” she waved him off, quickly cutting the sandwich and putting the ingredients and dishes away to escape.

“Don’t lie to me Y/N.  What’s wrong?” he stood, walking towards her.  She reached for the refrigerator door to get a drink, which he quickly shut and stared her down.  She wouldn’t look him in the eye.

“Come on Buck, I just need a drink,” she complained as she tried to open the door again, reaching for the handle.  Bucky grabbed her wrist firmly and leaned in towards her.

“What’s wrong Y/N?  You ran away earlier and now you smell…off,” he said, searching her eyes as his nose flared at the scent she was radiating.  His frown deepened and his eyes looked worried.  “Why are you afraid?  Was it me?  Did I do something wrong?”

“No!  Oh no, Bucky, it’s not you,” she said, her eyes widening.  “It’s me, it’s just…” her eyes welled up with tears again, spilling onto her cheeks as she sucked in a sharp breath.  “It’s me,” she sobbed, leaning forward til her forehead rested against his chest.

“Oh honey,” Bucky sighed.  He put his hands under her armpits and lifted her onto the counter so she was eye level with him.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and hid her face in his shoulder, crying harder as he enveloped her, his hands rubbing up and down her back as he whispered reassuring words to her.  They sat holding each other for a while, Bucky letting her cry it out and Y/N relishing the comfort.  As her cries died down and her grip loosened around his neck he pulled back.

“Tell me what’s wrong, please?  You’re breaking an old man’s heart,” he pleaded, hating to see her hurting so much.

Y/N chuckled at him calling himself an old man as she wiped her nose with her sleeve.  Bucky held her face in his hands and wiped her tears away with his thumbs.  She let herself enjoy his touch before she sniffled and finally looked up at him.

“When I was talking to you earlier, I felt this weird pain,” she explained quietly.  Bucky nodded, listening intently as he held her face still.  “That’s why I ran out.  I went to Bruce’s lab to test me because it felt like…like a heat,” she sniffled again, looking down at her lap.  Bucky nodded again, his hands releasing her face and reaching for her hands to hold.  “I haven’t had one in years.”  This surprised him.  He knew there were new ways of birth control for Omegas now, giving them a lot more options than to just mate and reproduce and take care of their Alphas and pups like the old days, which he thought was great.  He just didn’t realize it could be for so long.  “And now, apparently, the hormone blockers aren’t working anymore,” she gripped his fingers tightly.  “My body is rejecting them, weaning off of them and reverting back to normal hormone levels.  My heat is coming,” she sucked in another sharp breath.  “I don’t know when, but he said it’s going to be brutal since I’ve been avoiding them for so long.  He said I’ll need help and…and I don’t know what to do.”  Her voice shook as she looked up at him again.  “I’m scared,” she whispered.

Bucky could feel her panic and gave off what he hoped was a calming scent.  It seemed to help as her eyes fluttered shut and her shoulders visibly relaxed.  The Alpha in him hummed in satisfaction as he swept his thumbs over her knuckles.  “You don’t need to be scared, Y/N.  It’s going to be okay,” he tried to placate her.  “Listen, I know earlier you said you wanted a choice, and now your body’s not giving you one.”  She nodded, a few more tears slipping out the sides of her eyes.  “I…I can help you,” he said, gulping back the lump in his throat.  Her eyes snapped up to him, a look of shock on her face.  “I know that I’m offering something kinda crazy.  But I promise you I won’t hurt you, I won’t make you court me if you don’t want to, and I won’t forcibly mate with you.”  He looked her deep in her eyes to try to get her to understand.  “But I’d be honored to help you.”

Y/N couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.  She had wanted to ask him and now he was offering himself for her to get through this first heat.  She licked her lips and contemplated it.  “I just don’t want it to ruin our friendship,” she sniffed again, her eyes searching his face for hesitation.

“It won’t,” he said earnestly.  

“...Okay,” she agreed.  

Bucky smiled as he squeezed her fingers.  “Okay.”

“Thank you, Bucky.  You’re a good Alpha,” she thanked him, lifting his hands up and kissing his knuckles.

His eyes fluttered shut and he cleared his throat.  “You should probably not call me that, at least not right now.”

Her eyes widened.  “Oh!  God, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean–”

“It’s okay, honey, it’s fine,” he chuckled.  “Whenever it hits you, just call me, and I’ll be there.”

She gave him a warm smile in appreciation.  They were playing with fire, and they both knew it deep down, but were denying it heavily.

***

Y/N could feel her hormones changing her body and mind.  Bruce had advised against wearing scent blockers as well to help her body fully adjust and hopefully not cause as much pain during her upcoming heat, and that was the first thing she noticed.  The Alphas around her, who would normally just give her a friendly greeting or a smile, now watched her hungrily through narrow eyes, giving tight smiles as their noses flared as she passed by.  It made her self-conscious enough to ask Bucky one day, “Do I smell bad?”

Bucky looked away from the book he was reading as she plopped next to him on the couch in the common room again, lifting her feet up to rest on his lap.  She was touching him a lot more lately.  “What do you mean?”

“Do I smell bad?  Omegas can’t really smell themselves very well, and since I took off the scent blockers I’ve been…watched,” she looked around the room warily.  Bucky’s eyes swept across the other Alphas in the room, noting how they were all giving off territorial scents as they tracked her.  He sat up straight, facing each one until they caught his eye and gave off a warning rumble deep in his chest, his eyes flashing dangerously.  They each quickly retreated, shamefully turning back towards their previous tasks.  The air around Y/N seemed to lift and she felt like she could breathe again.  “Thank you, Bucky.”

He sat back on the couch, grabbing his book with one hand and mindlessly rubbing her feet with the other.  “No need to thank me, honey.  And no, you don’t smell bad.  You smell like chai.”

“Chai?” Y/N scoffed.

“Yeah, chai with…” he reached a hand out and grabbed her wrist, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling deeply.  Her eyes widened comically at his brashness in scenting her so publicly.  “Pumpkin.  Chai and pumpkin.  Like Autumn,” he concluded, setting her wrist down and then rubbing her feet again.  He said it so casually that she just stared at him dumbfounded.  

It got worse as the weeks went on.  Her emotions were haywire, one minute she was calm and cool and the next she was agitated and easily crying at anything.  She was nesting anxiously, rearranging her room and her desk in her office, constantly carrying around a large fuzzy cardigan or blanket with her.  Her joints were sore, especially in her hips.  She found herself eating all the time.  Bruce had her come down to the lab each week to check her levels, each time warning her it could happen any day now.  

A month and a half later on a Friday night the team got together for a movie night.  They decided on watching the first Avatar, a movie Bucky hadn’t yet seen.  As it played Y/N kept fidgeting next to him, adjusting her sitting position, wringing her hands in her lap, taking deep breaths periodically.  A scene began of two of the characters connecting in a tree garden and Sam yelled out, “Alien tree sex!”  Everyone laughed but Y/N bolted out of the room.  Bucky watched her run down to her room and shut her door.

He quietly got up and followed her.  He could tell just by her scent changing these last few weeks and how it was getting stronger, the chai smell getting spicier, that her heat was fast approaching.  She had been very touchy with him, following him around and staying close whenever they were in the same room.  He had no claim to her, but it was evident to everyone to stay away from her, otherwise they’d get a growl from him.  He was growing more excited by the day, trying to remind himself that he was just helping out a friend, not staking any claim or bond.  

When he reached her door he pressed his ear against it, listening for her.  He heard her heart rate picking up and her breathing became labored.  He could also smell her, more potent, spicy, the scent of unmated Omega making his hormones sing and call out for her.  A deep rumble emitted from his chest as he felt his cock hardening.  He knocked on her door.

“Y/N,” he called out, just loud enough for her to hear.  A soft moan came from the other side.  His eyelids shut tight at the sound.  It was time.  “I’m coming in,” he warned before opening the door.  He stepped inside and was hit with the scent full force, making his eyes and mouth water simultaneously.  Y/N was laying in the nest she built on her bed in the fetal position, one hand on her stomach and the other in between her legs, not yet touching herself but keeping pressure against her core.  “Honey…” he groaned as he locked the door behind himself and walked towards the bed.

“Alpha,” she breathed, her brow furrowed and eyes shut tight.  A cramp wracked through her whole body and she yelped in pain.  “It’s starting.  It hurts…hurts so bad,” she cried as she could feel a small gush of slick pour from her pussy as her body recognized the Alpha in the room.

“It’s gonna be okay, honey, I’m here,” he cooed at her, reaching his hand out and running his fingers along her leg from her ankle to her thigh.  “Let’s get you out of these, huh?” he said while lifting the hem of her shorts up slightly.  She nodded and blindly started pulling at her clothes.  Bucky helped her strip out of her layers then undressed himself, giving her naked body an appreciative glance.  He lay behind her on the bed, cocooning her in his arms and leaning his head into the crook of her neck and scenting her.  He could feel himself getting drunk off of her heat.  She was sending him into an early rut as his hips rocked against her ass slowly.  Y/N keened at that, her back arching and pushing her ass into his crotch further.  He moaned at the sensation, his arms tightening around her.  “Shh, Omega.  I got you,” he said as his voice dropped further, the Alpha coming through more prominently now.

“Bucky…” she sighed, her hands gripping his arms around her.  “Please…Alpha please,” she begged, her legs shaking as another cramp hit her.

Bucky moaned at the sound of his name said that way coming from her lips.  He started to lick and suck and kiss at the scent gland on her throat, making her gasp loudly.  His scent mixed with hers, and they quickly got lost in each other.  His hands found her breasts and massaged them firmly, his fingers tweaking her nipples and making her hips buck back into him again.  He twisted her body around to face him.  She quickly molded herself back to him, hiking her leg up and over his hip, her hands scratching down his chest.  He tried to remind himself one last time that this was just a friend helping a friend.  Then she kissed him.

The kiss broke the dam of hesitancy he was holding to desperately.  He quickly responded, his mouth opening and their tongues tangling as they tasted each other.  Bucky climbed on top of her, his knees forcing hers apart.  His fingers probed her lower lips, finding her clit and giving it all his attention.  Y/N’s hips writhed as he riled her up.  She watched his fingers dip into her, making her breath stutter.  She was already dripping for him so he plunged two fingers into her, thrusting them in and out while his thumb rubbed and flicked her clit.  

“Fuck Alpha,” she groaned.  “Just like that, shit!”

Bucky smiled as she cursed, her legs shaking against his.  She reached down and took his cock in her hand, giving him lazy pumps as he got her closer to her release.  He huffed a sharp breath.  “Damn, honey, oooh that’s good,” he said lowly.  “Give it to me, love, come on, you can do it.  Be such a good Omega for me,” he encouraged her as he curled his fingers as deep as he could reach.  

The tension in her core finally snapped, her first orgasm ripping through her at lightning speed, squirting slick all over his hand and his hips.  She let out a guttural moan, the sound reverberating through the air, making the Alpha inside of him scream to claim her.  He had to physically restrain himself as he pulled his fingers out of her.  She smiled as she watched him with hooded eyes.  He put his wet fingers in his mouth and licked them clean of her slick, his eyes rolling back at the taste.

“Alpha please, I need you.  Bucky, I want your big cock inside me…please!” Y/N begged again.  Normally it would embarrass her to be acting like this, she would have never dreamed of speaking to Bucky this way.  But they were beyond the point of no return.

“Condom first, Omega,” he reminded her in his authoritative voice.  “As much as I’d love to fill you up, I don’t think that’s what you want just yet.”

Y/N pouted, but the first orgasm had helped clear her brain a little bit, and pointed to the nightstand next to the bed.  Bucky quickly reached over and pulled open the top drawer, finding the box and pulling a few of them out.  He unwrapped one and slipped it on himself before settling back between her legs, backing up a little bit.  “Present, please, Omega.”

Y/N twisted herself onto her stomach, lifting her hips high and pressing the side of her face into the bed.  Bucky almost whimpered at the sight of her sweet pussy, seeing the way he had made her drip with slick, the skin softly puckering in anticipation.  “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen Y/N, goddamn,” he whispered huskily.  She preened at his praise, her ass raising a little higher.  He gave her ass a quick slap, making her yelp and shiver.  “You ready?” he asked, making sure she was still wanting this.

“Yes, please Alpha, Bucky…please!”

“You’re so sexy when you beg,” he slapped her ass again, then grabbed her hips and aimed himself at her entrance.  He slowly pushed in the tip of his cock, the fat head catching just past her lower lips, making them both groan.  He kept pushing until he was fully seated inside her, letting her adjust to his size.  Y/N was keening again, a high pitched tone ringing through the air.  After a moment she wriggled her hips, silently asking him to thrust.  A deep growl emanated from Bucky’s throat and he pulled back until it was just the tip inside, then snapped his hips back into her hard. 

Y/N was making the sweetest noises he’d ever heard as he pummeled his cock into her.  She whimpered and moaned, making him hook an arm around her hips and lay his stomach across her back, quick huffs of his breath warming her shoulder.  He could feel her walls fluttering around him, making the rhythm of his hips stutter.  “Fuck, honey, you gonna cum?”  She nodded as her moans got louder.  He flipped her back over onto her back so he could watch her release, leaving barely any room between them as he hovered over her.  Her hands wound around the back of his neck, scratching his scalp with her nails.  “Goddammit, do that again,” he heard himself whimpering this time.  She scratched from the top of his head down to his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.

He reached between their bodies and started flicking her clit as he chased his own high.  “Bucky, oh my God,” she squealed against his lips as her back arched and her legs clung to his hips.  “Yes, yes, yes, shit…mark me.”

Bucky didn’t stop thrusting but tensed at her words.  “No, Y/N, you don’t want that.”

“Yes, I do, with you, Bucky,” she gasped.

“Omega,” he warned her, his eyes flashing.  “We can talk about that when I’m not balls deep inside you.”

Y/N tensed at his Alpha command, her legs loosening around him.  “I want you to be my Alpha, my mate.”

“God fucking dammit,” Bucky stopped thrusting and leaned on his elbows above her.  “Y/N, listen to me, you don’t want that.  You said you wanted a clear choice, remember?”  Y/N was silent and wide eyed as she watched him, slightly nodding her head.  “This isn’t a clear choice.  Your first heat in how many years?  It’s your hormones talking, honey.  And believe me, I’d love to mark you, claim you, bond and mate with you.  Stuff you full of me,” he thrust again, making her eyes roll back, “and breed you with my pups.  But we can talk about all that later.  Right now, I’m here to help you through this, because you’re my best friend, and…I’m ridiculously in love with you.”  He finally said it.  “I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine.  But when it’s both of us with clear heads and a clear choice.  Okay?”

Y/N’s eyes were watery as she listened to him.  “You’re in love with me?”

Bucky huffed a laugh, “Is that all you got out of that?”

She shook her head, “No, but it’s the most important thing.  I’m in love with you.”

He smiled wide and leaned down to give a quick kiss to her nose.  “Can I continue now?”

She nodded again, and he gave her another thrust to get her going again.  Her slick started to make squelching noises as he picked up the pace again, his knot starting to catch at her entrance, his hand reaching to her clit again and trailing kisses down her throat to her scent gland, licking and sucking at it again.

“One day, if you’ll have me, I’ll bite this pretty neck,” he moaned in her ear as her fingers dug into his back.  “Make you mine.”

“Yours, all yours, Bucky…Alpha,” Y/N groaned, leaning her head up and scenting him back.  Her soft lips and her tongue against his gland had his eyes rolling in his head again and his fingers gripping her hips harshly.  “That’s right.  Mine.  Mine…mine,” he thrusted harder and faster, angling her hips up to hit deeper.

Y/N screamed his name as she finally came, her hands digging into the flesh between his neck and shoulder, scratching his scent gland and making him see stars as he came with a yell, his knot fully inflating and latching him to her as she nearly squeezed the dear life out of him.  He fell on top of her, and she held him as he calmed down, both of them panting and sweaty.  

A heady scent filled the air, a smell that screamed satisfied mates.  Bucky pulled himself to his side, holding her close so it wouldn’t hurt her to move with him, and covered them with the blankets from her nest.  Y/N was delirious after this first round of her heat, her head lolling with exhaustion.  “Rest, Omega.  We’ve still got a few days, and forever after that.”

She smiled sleepily, “Hmmm, my Alpha.”

[freyaphoria]

"Why are you wearing my dress?" You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, observing your boyfriend as he admired himself in the mirror, adjusting 'your dress' on his slender frame. Seonghwa had always been this way; his fascination with your dresses and cute skirts was undeniable. He would often watch you intently as you applied your makeup, occasionally piping up with an endearing, "Will you do my makeup too?" These moments were utterly charming, reminiscent of a little girl watching her mother with wide-eyed wonder, eager to emulate her every move. Far from finding it irritating or tiresome, you cherished these interactions. In fact, you took great pleasure in helping him explore this side of himself, always ready to assist with his makeup or outfit choices. "Why? Doesn't it look good?" Seonghwa's voice carried a hint of anxiety as his eyes darted between you and his reflection. The brown material of the dress hugged his body in a way that seemed almost magical, accentuating his figure far more flatteringly than it ever had on you. It was as if the dress had been crafted specifically for him, every seam and fold perfectly placed. Unable to resist, you stepped towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. The warmth of his body against yours sent a subtle shiver down your spine as you whispered, "No, my star, you look like the brightest star in the sky like this.” Your hands began a gentle exploration, tracing the contours of his slim waist, marveling at how the fabric draped so elegantly over his form. Seonghwa's chest rose with a deep breath as he grasped your arms, gently maneuvering you to stand before him. His eyes, usually so confident, now held a glimmer of uncertainty. "I don't know, do you think this is too much?" The hesitation in his voice was palpable, a reminder that despite his love for wearing dresses, there was still a fragile vulnerability beneath the surface. He craved your reassurance, your validation. With a playful smirk, you replied, "Yes, it's too much, everyone who sees you will be drooling. They might forget you're mine." Your warm palm found its way to his smooth cheek, and you could feel the tension melting away from his body, his shoulders visibly relaxing under your touch. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he murmured, "Don't worry, I'm already yours, always and completely." Your hands glided from his cheeks to the nape of his neck, fingers threading through his meticulously styled hair. With the gentlest of tugs, you drew his face closer to yours, your breath mingling as you whispered, "Then we should mark this perfect vision as mine, don't you think?" Your lips met his in a tender kiss, then trailed down to the exposed skin of his chest. The imprint of your lipstick blossomed on his skin like a vibrant flower, a beautiful testament to your connection. Pulling back to admire your handiwork, you couldn't help but smile. "There," you said, your voice filled with affection and a hint of possessiveness, "now you're even more breathtaking, my star." Your eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, drinking in the sight of him in the dress, your lipstick mark a stark contrast against his skin. Then, with a quick glance at your own reflection to ensure you were equally presentable, you turned towards the door. "Come on, we'd better get going. We wouldn't want to keep everyone waiting, especially when you look this stunning."

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

(I wrote this in 3 minutes, sorry if there are any mistakes)

taglist: @aim-blossom @bambisd0ll @oddracha @peqchplvto

[im-ovulating]

A Jasper kinktober with bloodplay and light choking?

(A/n: Kinktober Day 1/15 LET'S GOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!)

Word Count: 1,774

Summary: Yeah, your trust could have easily been misplaced, he's an apex predator, after all... good thing it wasn't.

Warnings: Blood, light choking, Reader being stupid

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Jasper Whitlock x Fem! Reader: Trust

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

Jasper's weight is solid and comforting on top of you in a stark contrast to the way he is ravishing your mouth.

Your fingers are tangle in his soft curls as you kiss him back with equal fervor. You're dizzy with Jasper - his weight, his taste, his smell. God, his smell... Woodsy but also a bit spicy; it's hard to put an exact name to it, but, if you could drown in it, you would without a first, let alone second, thought.

"Fuck, you taste amazing, darlin'..." Jasper groans, wrapping his arm under you to press you even closer. As he nibbles your bottom lip, he uses a bit too much pressure.

Jasper freezes before you even taste the iron. His once honey-colored eyes now a deep amber as he stares down at you. His chest heaves with unnecessary breaths as he fights to control himself.

Trapped under him, you have no choice but to simply look up at him with wide eyes and bated breath. You're at his mercy; a rabbit trapped in the maw of a hungry wolf.

"Sugar..." His voice is gruff and strained with the effort of fighting his instincts. "Sugar, I need you to get up and leave. I need you to leave the house, get in your car and drive... now." He shifts his weight to free you, giving you a straight shot out of the bedroom.

"But-" "Now!"

You flinch a little at the sudden volume, though you remain rooted in your spot. There's something about the way he's looking at you that makes you unable to move; you're like a deer in headlights or maybe the thought of being so irresistible to him that he has to fight himself is just keeping you thinking clearly. Or you're just insane... Yeah. It's probably that...

"You won't hurt me..." You mumble, barely believing it yourself. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears.

As you reach up to cup his cheek, your hand is surprisingly steady. You try to bury the hurt that rips through you when he flinches from your touch.

"You don't know that." Jasper grits out. His fingers are fisted in the sheets so hard that his knuckles are impossibly white.

"You haven't hurt me yet..." You reason, knowing that it truly doesn't mean anything. You wipe your bottom lip with your thumb, collecting the red droplets. You ignore the way your stomach flips as his gaze snaps to your hand.

"What are you doing, Sugar?" God, that rasp alone could make you wet.

"I trust you..." Is your whispered response as you lift your thumb to his lips.

"I don't trust me." Jasper retorts. He tries to turn his head, but you don't let him. You swipe your thumb against his bottom lip, smearing the blood on it. it's a taunt - a stupid one - and both of you know it.

You watch with a hammering heart as he subconsciously lets his tongue dart out to taste the liquid. Before you can even react, his eyes go black and his hand closes around your throat as he tilts your head back. His grip doesn't hurt, but it leaves no wiggle room for you to pull away.

"Jas-" You start to say, realizing just how stupid you were. You've known he's a vampire, known that he has trouble controlling himself around blood. Fuck... However, you're cut off as his mouth crashes against yours once more.

Jasper's tongue immediately invades your mouth, tracing the seam of your lips as he laps up more of your blood. A small whimper leaves you, only to be swallowed up by his kiss.

"You're playing with fire darlin'..." his voice is lower than you've ever heard. Hungrier. "You want to play with nature? Toy with your life and my control? Huh?" He lowers his head to trail his nose along your neck, pressing a kiss to your thundering pulse point. "I can smell how wet you are for me... I can feel how aroused you are." You can feel your face grow hotter as he lays the truth out so blatantly. "You like the idea of being so vulnerable, don't you, Sugar?"

All you can do is nod pathetically as he experimentally flexes his hand around your throat.

"Well, consider it done, princess, I'll give you what you want..." He grins against your neck. He gives it a small, harmless nip before pulling back.

He reaches behind his head to pull his shirt off.

"Strip." He orders as he shoves his jeans down.

Apparently, you take too long because before you can even start, he decides to rip your jeans off. The button pops and lands somewhere in the room with a soft *clink* that's drowned out by your startled gasp. Your shirt and panties quickly join them as he trails kisses down your chest.

His hand stays firm around your throat as he draws back to meet your gaze. "Tell me what you want, darlin'... I need to know your mind matches what you're feelin'."

You shiver under Jasper's intense gaze, your heart racing with a potent mixture of fear and arousal. His firm grip on your throat leaves you feeling deliciously powerless, completely at his mercy.

"I want you," you breathe, voice barely above a whisper. "All of you. I trust you, Jasper, even if you don't trust yourself."

Your hands reach up to caress his face, thumbs tracing the sharp lines of his jaw. "I know the risks, but I want this. Want you to take me, claim me as yours." You pause, biting your lip nervously. "Please, Jasper…"

Your eyes search his, silently pleading with him to give in to his desires, to let go of his control and give you everything you crave. The hunger burning in his gaze makes your breath catch, anticipation coiling tight within you.

Jasper's grip on your throat tightens ever so slightly, making your pulse quicken. His eyes blaze with unbridled desire as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light caress.

"You have no idea what you're asking for, darlin'," he rasps, voice dripping with temptation. "I could snap your neck with barely a thought. Drain you dry in the blink of an eye."

He pauses, letting his words sink in as his free hand trails down your body, eliciting a shiver from you. "But god help me, I want you too. Want to feel you quivering beneath me, hear you moan my name as I fuck you senseless."

His hand drifts lower, teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You instinctively part your legs, silently begging him to touch you where you ache for him most.

"Please, Jasper," you plead, fingers digging into his shoulders. "I need you. Take me, claim me, do whatever you want - I trust you."

With a feral growl, Jasper crushes his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, swallowing your mewls of pleasure. His hand leaves your throat to grip your hip, pulling you flush against him as he grinds his hardness against your slick heat.

"Then you're mine, sugar," he murmurs huskily against your lips. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Jasper's grip on your hips tightens as he lines himself up with your aching core, the tip of his cock teasing your slick folds. You let out a desperate whimper, your nails raking down his back as you try to pull him closer.

"Please, Jasper...I need you," you beg shamelessly, your body thrumming with a depraved, desperate need that you know he can feel.

With a low, guttural groan, Jasper surges forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight, welcoming heat. You cry out at the delicious stretch, your walls fluttering and clenching around his cock.

He pauses for a moment, giving you time to adjust, his near-black eyes smoldering with barely contained hunger. Then, with a primal growl, he begins to move - hard, fast, relentless thrusts that have you seeing stars.

"Fuck, you feel so good, sugar," he pants, his face buried in the crook of your neck. "So tight, so wet...all for me."

Your back arches as he hits that sweet spot inside you, over and over, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body. You're completely at his mercy, your mind hazy with lust and the knowledge that your life hangs by a thread; that you could easily die if he loses even an ounce of the control he's holding on a fraying leash.

Jasper's grip on you tightens as he gathers you close, his lips trailing feather-light kisses along the delicate column of your neck. You shiver at the contrast of his cool skin against your flushed and sensitive skin.

"You're mine, sugar," he rumbles again, the possessiveness in his tone sending a thrill down your spine. His hand caresses your hip, fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

You arch into his touch, utterly intoxicated by his nearness. The predatory gleam still lingers in his darkened eyes, but there's a softness there too - a silent promise that he will protect you, even from himself.

Slowly, he rolls his hips, still buried deep inside you. You gasp at the sensation, your body already aching for more. Jasper chuckles, low and delicious, as he watches your reactions.

"So responsive, darlin'," he murmurs, nipping gently at your earlobe. "I could spend all night making you come undone."

His hand trails up your side, skimming the curve of your breast. You arch further into his touch, silently begging for more. Jasper obliges, his thumb caressing your nipple until it hardens into a tight peak.

"Please, Jasper," you whimper, your hips rocking against his in a silent plea.

With a predatory grin, Jasper shifts his weight, pressing you back into the mattress. His thrusts build in intensity, driving you higher and higher until you're trembling on the edge of release.

"That's it, sugar," he growls, his lips ghosting over yours. "Let go for me. Come apart on my cock."

Your vision whites out as the coil of tension within you snaps, your body convulsing around him in ecstasy. Jasper follows soon after, his fangs grazing your neck in a silent reminder of the threat he poses as he spills himself inside you with a guttural groan.

Spent and sated, you cling to him, your heartbeat gradually slowing. Jasper nuzzles your hair affectionately, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back.

"That was incredibly stupid and reckless of you, darlin'..." Jasper admonishes softly as he settles down.

"I know..." you pant a bit. "But I already told you: I trust you."

[gardenwons]

I WOULD GIVE UP HEAVEN IF I HAVE TO

SYNOPSIS: Jungwon, a celestial angel bound by the laws of Heaven, finds himself torn between his divine duty and the pull of an earthly feeling, he faces a choice that could shatter the heavens. Yet in the end, what is God in the face of a woman’s love and the lure of forbidden lust?

PAIRINGS: angel!jungwon x angel!reader

GENRE: celestial beings au, forbidden love, smut, angst, fluff (?)

A/N: word count is at 6k, vv sacrilege uve been warned ;P + mean n seducing won <3

The day you first met Jungwon was a whisper of eternity, a moment so brief yet so significant, it rippled through your existence like a stone dropping into a still lake. As a guardian angel, you were accustomed to the constancy of time, the serene repetition of your duties.

Angels were never meant to interfere with humans, never to step beyond the gates of Heaven unless a grand divine intervention was called for. But humanity has grown complacent, content in their free will, leaving angels to guard them solely from afar. No interaction, just silent watchfulness—angels touch forbidden in a world we can never truly know.

You observed, you guided, you protected humanity from a distance, never too close, never too involved. Emotions, especially those that plagued the mortal world, were foreign to you, nothing more than fleeting curiosity. They were indulgences you were never meant to understand.

But then there was him.

Jungwon.

From the moment your eyes met, something about him was different. The air around him seemed to hum with a quiet defiance, as though the very essence of him was a challenge to the order you had always known. It was said that he embodied what the most beautiful angel had, or perhaps now a fallen one.  His every glance seemed to carry a depth that tugged at the core of your being, stirring something within you that shouldn’t exist between angels.

You weren’t supposed to feel this way.

The first time you exchanged words wasn’t in the usual manner angels would communicate- through thoughts, intentions, and divine understanding. No, it was in the silence between breaths, in the space between one shared breath and the next. You had taken a brief rest from your duties, your wings fluttering gently in the golden light of Heaven’s plain, when Jungwon appeared beside you. His wings, light and sleek, casting long shadows across the celestial space.

His voice was soft, but it carried a weight that unsettled you. “alluringly strange, aren’t they?” he murmured, his tone contemplative, his eyes locked onto the human world below. “To watch them so closely… yet feel so distant.”

You blinked, startled by the unexpected conversation. For a moment, you hesitated. It was rare for angels to speak so plainly, so openly about their thoughts. Nodding slowly, keeping your gaze fixed on the mortals below, oblivious to the divine beings who watched over them. “It’s how it’s meant to be” you replied, your voice quieter than usual, as if afraid to acknowledge the crack in your own conviction. Terrified the heavens would hear.

Jungwon’s laugh was soft, almost mocking, finding amusement in your response. “And you believe that? that we’re meant to remain detached, distant from them, from everything?”

You glanced at him, frowning slightly. There was something dangerous about the way he spoke, something that made your wings twitch in discomfort. “That is what we are told” you stated, though the words tasted like ash in your mouth. It was what you were told, what you had believed for so long. Yet now, standing beside him, you felt the certainty slipping away, crumbling under the weight of his questions. What was the logic in this rule? Humans can have their free will but to the ones closer to God are bound by strictest constraints, as if divinity itself demands the suppression of choice.

He stepped closer, his presence suddenly more tangible, more magnetic than it had any right to be. The warmth of him radiated through the air, a stark contrast to the cold and distant perfection of Heaven. “What if..” he said, his voice a low murmur “we weren’t meant to be distant at all? What if we’re just… afraid? Afraid of what happens when we get too close?”

Your breath hitched, wings trembling at his words—words that challenged the very core of your existence. Alarms rang in your mind at the defiance he spoke, yet deep within, something stirred—something that ached, something unmistakably human.Your heart, a thing you hadn’t even realized could race, seemed to beat louder in your chest, the sound echoing in your ears. You swallowed thickly, trying to suppress the unfamiliar sensation. “Jungwon...” His name left your lips, a warning, a plea.

His lips curled into a dangerous smile, the kind that made your pulse quicken against your will. “Tell me,” he said, his voice dropping even lower, “you’ve never wondered what it feels like to love, to feel, to desire”

His words lingered in the air, forbidden words that sent a shiver down your spine. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words died on your tongue. Of course, you had wondered. How could you not? Every moment spent watching the humans, observing their connections, their emotions, their pain, and their pleasure. How could you not be curious? But that was all it was supposed to be—curiosity, as guardian angels are supposed to be. Nothing more.

“I… I’ve wondered,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, as if confessing to a sin that had yet to be committed. “But it doesn’t matter. We’re angels. We’re not supposed to—”

“Supposed to?” Jungwon interrupted, his gaze piercing through you. “We’re not supposed to feel? Not supposed to want?” His wings unfurled slightly, the movement slow and deliberate, and for a brief moment, they brushed against yours just barely. The contact was electric, a jolt of energy that sent heat coursing through you, making your breath catch in your throat.

“Wanting is greed, Jungwon. You know this.” you pleaded, your wings growing anxious as you held his intense gaze.

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel it” he whispered, his face now inches from yours. His eyes, deep and dark, seemed to search your soul, as if he could see every thought, every doubt, every desire you had tried to bury from the face of many Angels and God. “You can’t tell me you don’t want it.”

He glanced down from the clouds, his gaze shifting to a small apartment below, where a couple lay intertwined, their limbs tangled together in the intimate closeness only lovers knew. The warmth between them was noticeable, a soft glow of contentment that radiated from their shared breaths, their whispered words. They weren’t bound by divine law, but by something deeper, something that defied heaven’s cold perfection. "Look at them" he murmured, tone somewhat yearning "What they have is real. You can feel it too, if you let yourself."

You couldn’t speak. The words were there, but they refused to come out, tangled up in the storm of emotions that raged inside you. His nearness, the warmth of his body, the soft whisper of his wings. It was overwhelming, intoxicating.

“I... don’t...” you started, your voice trembling. But even as you tried to deny it, the truth lingered in the space between you.

He closed the distance between you, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek, his touch soft but firm, like he was grounding you to him. “You do” he said quietly, his breath brushing against your skin. “I can see it in your eyes. You want to feel it. what do you feel when you’re with me?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, your body betraying you in the way your wings fluttered, the way your breath quickened. This was wrong. You knew it was wrong. But the way his touch set your skin alight, the way his voice made your whole being tremble, it was unlike anything you had ever known. Unlike anything you were ever supposed to know.

You exhaled, a shuddering breath escaping your lips as you leaned into his touch, your forehead resting against his. “What are we doing?” you whispered, your voice heavy with uncertainty, fear, and most of all desire.

Jungwon’s smile softened, and for the first time, it wasn’t dangerous. It was tender. “We are choosing” he murmured. “Choosing something beyond Heaven, beyond what we were told, something that can be ours.”

His words hung in the air like a temptation you could no longer resist.

And for the first time in your existence, you allowed yourself to fall.

For the next few days, you had overused and beaten up your wings, desperately trying to fly anywhere but where Jungwon might be. Every time you felt his presence near, a wave of panic surged through you, pushing you to ascend higher, further, anything to avoid him. But the harder you tried to distance yourself, the more it felt like he was following, swarming up to you persistently, as if he was testing your resolve.

Your heart thudded painfully each time you thought of him. His defiant words echoed in your mind, growing louder despite your attempts to drown them out.

“What do you feel when you’re with me?”

“Choosing something beyond Heaven”

The boldness of his voice. The way he had dared to utter such dangerous thoughts, to let them linger in your head as if they belonged there. It terrified you how much power his words held over you. The tremors of his defiance crept under your skin, crawling their way into your heart, a place where only obedience and light should reside.

How dare he?

Your jaw clenched as you flew through the night sky, trying to clear your head. He was reckless. You were reckless. This was forbidden, after all. There would be consequences. All the angels would know. God would know. Surely, Jungwon wasn’t oblivious to this.

Was he not afraid?

Your thoughts raced faster than your wings could carry you. Was this all a trick? Perhaps the celestials were testing your faith, your devotion to the supreme being, that was the only explanation for how wrong this felt. Yet, no matter how much you wanted to hate Jungwon for planting these doubts, you couldn’t shake the pull he had over you.

You stopped abruptly mid-air, hovering in the thick clouds. It was cold and silent up here, your sanctuary from his presence. But the silence didn’t last.

“Y/N” a voice messed up the stillness, low and soft, with the same warmth that always managed to break through your defences.

You turned sharply to see him, his glowing figure descending through the mist, his expression calm but filled with determination. Both of you glowed in the clouds as your wings fluttered in agitation, but your body betrayed you. You couldn’t move.

“You need to stop running from me” Jungwon said, his tone firm but not unkind. He landed gently, his wings folding behind him as he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

You scoffed, looking away, trying to suppress the shiver his voice sent through you. “I’m not running.” But even you didn’t believe your own words.

“Really?” He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes narrowing. “Because from where I’m standing, it sure looks like you’ve been avoiding me.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, your wings twitching. “What would you like to happen, Jungwon?” You kept your voice steady, trying to mask the turmoil broiling inside you. “Do you want to drag me down with you? Make me lose my faith?”

Jungwon’s expression softened, and for the first time, you saw the hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “That’s not what I want.” He took another step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I just… I want you to understand. I need you to listen to me.”

You clenched your fists, glaring at him. “Understand you? That you’re willing to throw everything away? For what, Jungwon? Some fleeting desire? You know the consequences of defying Him.”

He flinched at your words, but didn’t back down. Instead, he reached out, his hand hovering near yours, his fingers trembling slightly. “I’m not defying Him, Y/N. I’m just questioning things. I’ve seen so much, felt so much, and I—” He stopped, searching for the right words. “I need you to tell me I’m wrong, that this is just in my head.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his words sank in. This was what terrified you the most because deep down, you couldn’t tell him he was wrong. You felt it too, that undeniable connection, that forbidden pull.

“Jungwon…we cannot question, this is not something we are supposed to do..” you whispered, finally meeting his gaze, your resolve wavering. “This can’t happen. We cannot happen.”

He took a deep breath, closing the space between you, his wings brushing against yours. “I know what we’re supposed to believe. I know what’s expected of us. But when I’m with you… it feels different. Doesn’t it feel different to you?”

Your heart hammered in your chest, your wings trembling as you struggled to find your voice. He was too close, too intense, and you couldn’t think straight. But the truth was already written in the air between you.

Ultimately your eyes gave way to confession, teary doe orbs looking up at him in defeat. 

His eyes softened at your confession, a small, almost hopeful smile tugging at his lips. “Then why are you running? Why don’t you want to feel?”

You swallowed hard, tearing your gaze away from his. “Because… because I’m afraid.”

He reached out and gently cupped your face, forcing you to meet his eyes again. “I’m afraid too, Y/N. But I don’t want to keep ignoring this. For us.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words settling in your chest. For the first time, you allowed yourself to truly see him—not as the defiant angel who had threatened to upend your world, but as someone who was just as lost and confused as you were.

But the fear was still there, gnawing at the back of your mind like the devil. “What if we fall like him?” you whispered.

Jungwon’s thumb brushed softly against your cheek, thoughts containing nothing but the way you glow under his touch as he answered, “Then we fall together.”

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It wasn’t long after that when the two of you finally crossed the line between curiosity and indulgence. What began as short glances became something far more dangerous. The way Jungwon’s eyes lingered on you felt different. It was heavy, charged with an unspoken yearning. Each stolen glance became longer, every shared moment too intimate, too deliberate to be mistaken for an accident.

At first, it was subtle. A brush of wings as you passed by each other in Heaven’s expanse, fingers grazing ever so slightly, a touch that sent a jolt of something forbidden coursing through you. You convinced yourself it was nothing. But when his hand lingered longer on your skin, when your breaths began to sync in spaces that felt too small, too electric, you both knew there was no denying it anymore.

You still  knew it was wrong—every stolen touch, every stolen moment. Heaven’s laws were absolute. Angels were never meant to feel love, never meant to desire in ways so primal, so human. Love, passion, and lust, these were things of the mortal world, indulgences you were forbidden from experiencing. And yet, with every passing day, your connection with Jungwon grew deeper, more consuming. What had once been a flicker of curiosity between you became a fire that burned brighter, hotter, threatening to consume you both.

It was under a sky painted with stars that the line between the divine and the forbidden finally shattered. You stood with him, high above the mortal realm, the glow of Heaven's light just out of reach. Jungwon turned to you, his eyes filled with something dangerous, something neither of you could ignore anymore. The air between you was thick with tension, with desire that had been kept on a tight leash for too long.

He reached for you then, slowly, as if giving you a chance to pull away. But you didn’t. His fingers brushed against your jaw, his thumb tracing your lower lip with agonizing softness. You inhaled sharply, feeling the heat of his touch sink into your skin. The moment hung between you, the anticipation crackling like lightning in the air.

When his lips finally met yours, it was like falling. Soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters of something you both knew you had no right to claim. But the moment his mouth touched yours, something inside you broke. A barrier that had kept you tethered to Heaven’s laws shattered under the weight of your desire for him. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that surprised even you.

His wings unfurled, brushing against yours, the sensation of feather against feather sending sparks down your spine. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you against him until your bodies were flush, his breath mingling with yours, hot and erratic. You pressed yourself closer, needing to feel more, to take more, as if the space between you was suffocating. Every touch was a silent rebellion, a cry against the laws you had followed your entire existence.

“Are you scared?” you whispered against his lips, your voice breathless as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. Your forehead rested against his, the question lingering in the air like the last remnants of doubt.

His eyes, dark and full of something unholy, something that mirrored the desire burning in your own, met yours. His breath was shallow, his grip on your waist tightening as he spoke, “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my existence.”

Your heart raced at his words, at the certainty in his voice. His hands slid lower, fingers tracing the curve of your hips, down to your thighs, lifting you just enough so that your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. The moment you did, a growl escaped his throat, low and primal, sending a shiver through your entire body. His lips returned to yours, this time more demanding, more urgent, as if he couldn’t stand to be apart from you for even a second.

He carried you backward, your back pressing against the soft clouds beneath you, though it felt as solid as any earthly bed. His wings flared wide, casting shadows over you as his hands explored your body, every touch igniting sparks along your skin. His fingers grazed the hem of your robe, pulling the fabric away inch by inch, exposing the bare skin beneath to the cool night air.

Your breath hitched as Jungwon’s lips trailed down your neck, leaving a scorching path in their wake. His teeth grazed your skin, just enough to make you gasp, your body arching beneath him. One of his hands slipped beneath your robe, fingers brushing over your inner thigh, teasing, testing, before slipping higher.

A sharp gasp escaped you as his fingers found the heat between your legs, pressing with deliberate slowness. You bit your lip, trying to stifle the moan building in your throat, but it was useless. The sound slipped past your lips, soft and needy, spurring him on.

Jungwon’s lips returned to yours, devouring your moans as his fingers moved in slow, agonizing circles. You felt yourself unravelling beneath him, every nerve touched with pleasure, every thought consumed by the sensation of his touch. His wings enveloped you, cocooning the two of you in darkness—shielding you from Heaven’s gaze.

“Tell me” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with desire, “tell me you want this.”

Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling beneath his touch. “I… I want you,” you confessed, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them. “I want you, Jungwon.”

His eyes darkened, something feral flickering in them as he claimed your lips in a bruising kiss. His fingers pressed harder, moving faster, and you could feel yourself teetering on the brink of something dangerous, something forbidden. But just as you neared the edge, everything changed.

In a heartbeat, you were bound. Silken ropes wrapped tightly around your wrists, pinning your arms above your head, your back pressed against a smooth, heavenly pillar. The restraints dug into your skin, not painful, but tight enough to remind you who held the power.

“You look pathetic like this” Jungwon sneered, his voice low and dripping with condescension. He stood over you, his gaze dark and unrelenting, roaming over your vulnerable form. “No celestial being or human could never amount to your beauty”

Yet, in this moment of power, he revelled in your submission, a twisted satisfaction lighting up his features. The tension between you crackled like electricity, and you could feel his breath against your skin, warm and taunting. “It’s almost tragic” he continued as he leaned closer, “how such beauty can be so easily bound and helpless.”

His fingers ghosted down your body, featherlight and taunting. You squirmed, testing the ropes, but they held firm. A sharp tug at your wrists elicited a gasp from your lips, and the helpless, needy sound only made Jungwon’s smirk widen.

“Just think of what I could do with you, all this beauty restrained,” he murmured, the promise of his intentions hanging heavy in the air. “Look at you,” he muttered, his voice laced with cruel amusement. “So desperate. So needy. What a disgrace for an angel.”

Without warning, his hand shot to your throat, gripping tightly enough to make your pulse race beneath his palm. He tilted your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his. His eyes were filled with something dark, primal, something that made your stomach churn with both fear and desire.

“You think you deserve my touch?” he whispered, his grip tightening just slightly. “You think I’d be gentle after all your disobedience?”

You tried to shake your head, tried to speak, but the pressure on your throat choked off your words. Jungwon’s grip loosened just enough for you to gasp for air, and then his lips were on yours. Going rough, demanding, leaving no room for tenderness. His teeth grazed your bottom lip before biting down hard enough to draw a whimper from you.

“That’s more like it,” he growled against your mouth. “I want to hear you beg.”

He pulled away, his hand trailing down your body, curling around your thighs before forcing them apart. The cool air hit your bare skin, heightening your awareness of every inch of yourself, exposed for his pleasure. His gaze never left your face as his hand slid between your thighs, fingers hovering, teasing, never quite touching where you needed him most.

“Beg for it” he ordered, his voice low and dangerous. “Tell me how much you want this.”

You squirmed beneath him, your wrists tugging at the restraints as you tried to press closer. “Please, Jungwon,” you whispered, your voice shaky, “please… touch me.”

Jungwon’s laugh was cold and mocking. His fingers brushed against you, just enough to make you gasp, before pulling away entirely. “Is that the best you can do?” he taunted. “Pathetic. You’ll have to beg harder than that.”

A flush of heat crept up your face, your body burning with need. “Please” you whimpered, your voice breaking with desperation. “I need you… I’ll do anything.”

A cruel smile curved his lips as he finally pressed his fingers against your clit, slow and teasing, sending waves of pleasure through your trembling body. You arched against the pillar, a soft moan escaping your lips, but Jungwon’s other hand gripped your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his.

“Keep your eyes on me” he commanded, his voice a low growl. “I want to see every second of your surrender.”

His fingers moved faster, slipping inside you with a practiced, ruthless precision. Each movement was deliberate, calculated to keep you on the edge of release, but never quite letting you tip over. You writhed beneath him, your body aching for release, but the cruel gleam in Jungwon’s eyes told you he wasn’t going to give it easily.

“Look at you, pretty angel~ falling apart with just my fingers. Do you even realize how weak you are right now? How easily I could break you?”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, your body trembling with need. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, desperate for more, but Jungwon wasn’t done playing with you yet.

“Beg me to let you come” he commanded, his voice rough and unforgiving.

“Please” you gasped, your voice trembling. “Please, Jungwon… I need it. Please let me come.”

Jungwon’s smirk deepened as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You don’t get to come until I say so.”

With that, his fingers slowed, keeping you teetering on the brink of release, but never granting you the satisfaction. He watched you squirm, his cruel laughter filling your ears as you struggled against the golden ropes, your body shaking with the overwhelming need for more.

“You’ll come when I decide” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “Until then, you’re mine to toy with.”

Jungwon’s smirk softened as he looked down at you, your body trembling beneath him, bound and helpless in the ropes he’d tied with such care. His thumb grazed your cheek, and for a moment, the cruel glint in his eyes faded, replaced by something deeper, something more intimate.

"You look so perfect like this," he whispered, loosening the bonds around your wrists. His fingers lingered where the silk had dug into your skin, rubbing the marks softly. "But I’m not done with you yet."

Your wrists fell free, and as you collapsed into him, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close against his chest. He was still so firm, so in control, yet his touch was different, now gentler, but no less commanding. His lips brushed your forehead, soft and reverent, like a promise.

“I’m going to take care of you,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “But only because you’ve been so good for me.”

You shuddered as his hands slid down your body, no longer teasing, but steady and sure. He lowered you back down to the soft clouds beneath you, his eyes locked on yours, dark with desire but softened by something warmer now. His fingers trailed along your thighs, and when he positioned himself between them, the world seemed to slow, the air thick with anticipation.

“You still want this?” His voice was low, almost vulnerable, as though he needed to hear you say it again.

“I want you” you breathed, your hands reaching up to touch his face, pulling him closer. “I’ve always wanted you.”

Jungwon’s lips found yours in a kiss that was slow and deep, a kiss that spoke of everything unsaid between you. Desire, defiance, and something more dangerous. His body pressed against yours, and you could feel every inch of him, hard and ready, but holding back just enough to make you ache with longing.

He broke the kiss, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”

Slowly, carefully, he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes flickering up to meet yours. For a moment, there was no dominance, no power play, just the raw connection between you two, something that defied the very laws you had once sworn to uphold.

And then, with one slow, deliberate thrust, he pushed inside you. The sensation was overwhelming. He filled you completely, stretching you in ways that made you gasp, your body arching against him. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer as he settled into a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“God” you moaned, your fingers digging into his arms as he moved, your body melting beneath him.

Jungwon chuckled softly, his lips brushing your jaw. “Not quite” he teased, his voice low and husky. “But I’ll make you feel like it.”

His pace quickened, his hips rolling in a rhythm that was almost hypnotic, his body moving with an effortless grace that made it impossible to think of anything but the pleasure building inside you. His wings, usually tucked away, spread out around you both, creating a cocoon of feathers and warmth, shielding you from the world, from Heaven’s judging eyes.

“Look at me” he commanded softly, and when you did, the intensity in his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. "I want to see you when you fall apart."

You whimpered, your hands clinging to his shoulders as his thrusts became deeper, more urgent, driving you closer and closer to the edge. His fingers curled around your thighs, pulling them up to wrap around his waist, and the new angle sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making you gasp.

“Jungwon” you moaned, your voice trembling, “I... I can’t—”

“Yes, you can” he growled, his lips brushing your ear as he thrust harder, his body pressing down against yours, his pace relentless. “You’re going to come for me, and I’m going to watch you break.”

You were so close, nearing on the edge of release, every nerve in your body alight with the sensation of him, filling you, consuming you. Your breaths came in uneven, shaky gasps, your body quivering beneath him. Yet, he kept you pinned in place, his fingers pressing into your skin, anchoring you to him.

"Say my name" he commanded, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Say it when you come."

His thumb brushed against the sensitive spot between your legs, rubbing slow, deliberate circles in time with his thrusts, and that was all it took. You came undone beneath him, your body arching off the clouds as the pleasure crashed over you, your hands gripping his arms as you cried out his name.

“Jungwon!” The word spilled from your lips, raw and breathless, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure tore through you. He watched you the entire time, his eyes dark with satisfaction as you fell apart beneath him.

And then with a final thrust, he followed you over the edge. His body shuddered as he came inside you, filling you completely. His grip on your hips tightened, his breath ragged against your neck as he buried himself deep within you, his release leaving him trembling in your arms.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, both of you lost in the aftermath, your bodies tangled together in the warmth of each other’s embrace. Slowly, Jungwon pulled out, his hands gentle as he lowered you back onto the clouds, his body still hovering over yours, protective and possessive.

His fingers brushed your cheek, and when you looked up at him, his eyes were softer than you had ever seen them before.

“You’re mine” he whispered, his lips pressing softly against your forehead, a promise in every word. “Always mine.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to breathe, but you couldn’t look away. The ropes were gone, but the invisible link between you and Jungwon felt stronger than ever.

“I’m yours” you whispered, your hand resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

Jungwon smiled, a real, soft smile that sent warmth flooding through you. He leaned down, kissing you again, this time with tenderness, the ferocity of his earlier dominance replaced by something deeper, something that felt almost like love.

And as he held you close, the weight of your defiance hung in the air, but it no longer felt like a burden. With Jungwon beside you, it felt like freedom.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Heaven was quick to notice. The divine realm was not blind to such transgressions, and the whispers of your defiance reached the ears of the highest angels. You and Jungwon were summoned, the sacred halls echoing with the weight of your sin, warned to sever the bond that had ignited between you before it was too late. But the love you shared had already become your heaven—more sacred, more intoxicating than any celestial paradise could ever offer.

The Council of Seraphim loomed before you, their eyes cold and condemning, wings aglow with the pure, searing light of Heaven. Their gazes felt like knives against your skin, their judgement tearing at the very fabric of your existence. They told you that if you didn’t end it, this forbidden love, you would be cast out. Fallen from grace. Stripped of your wings, your immortality, your divinity. Everything.

And still, you hesitated. Because how could eternity in Heaven ever compare to a single moment in Jungwon’s arms?

Lucifer’s name was invoked, a warning etched in whispers that spread like wildfire through the ethereal clouds. Gasps echoed through the heavens, the horror of it rippling like a wave, a reminder of what happens to angels who want more. More than servitude. More than blind obedience. More than the perfection of paradise.

“Lucifer chose greed over duty, and now he reigns in hell” one of the Seraphim hissed, their wings flaring in anger. “Is this the path you choose as well?”

Jungwon, standing beside you, his jaw set and eyes burning with quiet defiance, reached for your hand. His fingers slid into yours, warm, trembling but unshakable in their conviction. That single touch… so human, so raw, that it grounded you, even as the weight of the Seraphim’s words threatened to crush you.

"Let them take everything from us" he whispered, his voice steady despite the judgement raining down upon him like fire. "They can have their paradise. As long as I have you, I already have heaven."

Tears stung your eyes, your heart breaking under the truth of his words. The reality of what you were about to lose weighed down on you like an anchor, dragging you into the depths of your sorrow. You tried to imagine it, tried to picture life without the wings that had carried you through eternity. The light of Heaven fading from your soul. The cold, eternal exile. Your body shook, not just with fear but with the knowledge that this choice would ruin you.

“I can’t…” Your voice cracked, barely a whisper, your tears finally falling. “I can’t lose everything.”

Jungwon’s grip tightened around your hand, his eyes softening for just a moment. “You’re not losing everything,” he murmured. “You’re choosing everything that matters. I’ll be with you. Wherever we go, no matter what happens.”

The Seraphim’s voices thundered, condemning you both. The words "fallen," "disgrace," and "damnation" crashed around you, suffocating your last ties to the divine. Yet amid the chaos, all you could hear was Jungwon. His presence, his love, was the only thing keeping you from breaking apart completely.

You closed your eyes, the weight of Heaven's judgement pressing down on you like an avalanche. You could feel your wings begin to tremble, the shimmering light that once radiated from them dimming, fading away. Your immortality, your celestial power—it was all slipping through your fingers. And still, all you could think of was him.

“Are you scared?” you asked, your voice a fragile whisper, barely able to meet his gaze.

Jungwon smiled, soft and full of that quiet, defiant strength. Everything that he was reassured you, “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my existence.”

His words were a bandaid to your soul, a tether pulling you back from the edge of despair. You knew then, in that moment, that there was no other choice. No amount of divine glory, no promise of eternal light, could rival the love you shared. The bond that had been forged between you was too strong, too real. More real than anything Heaven could offer.

With trembling hands, you reached for your wings, feeling the divine energy pulse beneath your fingertips one last time before you let it go. The glow dimmed, the feathers withered, and then, they fell. One by one, your wings disintegrated, leaving you exposed, fragile—human.

The Seraphim watched in silence as your fall from grace became complete. But there was no turning back now. You had made your choice.

As the last of your wings faded into nothingness, you looked at Jungwon, his wings still intact but now dark, tarnished by your shared sin. He pulled you into his arms, holding you so close you could feel the beat of his heart against your chest.

"Together, my love" he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. "We’ll face this together."

And as the gates of Heaven closed behind you, casting you into the abyss of exile, you realized that the real paradise wasn’t in the clouds or the light of Heaven. It was here, in his arms, in the love you had chosen over everything.

And even though you had fallen, with Jungwon by your side, you had never felt so free.

[tteotlma]

Panic and Proximity

-- Trapped with Logan in a safe room, your biggest weakness reveals itself.

(Wolverine/Reader) 1.7kw

a/n: it's been like six years since i posted a fic.. smth short and sweet

TW: anxiety, panic attack, mentions of vomit, close spaces, forced proximity(?), CLAUSTROPHOBIA, tight spaces

"Bobby!" you yell over the deafening roar. You dig your heels into the dirt, pivoting to run towards your friend. A Sentinel has Bobby pinned, ice against ice. Suddenly, the ground opens beneath him, swallowing him whole. Your heart leaps into your throat, but in the next instant, the sky above the massive monster splits open. Bobby drops out, ready to swing full throttle.

You glance back to see Kitty sprinting towards you, Logan not far behind.

"No, run!" she screams, grabbing your arm as you both dash into the building.

"But Bobby—" you start, turning to look back at your friend. He seems to be holding his own, but for how long?

"It's okay, he's coming," Kitty pants as she phases you through industrial shelving.

Logan's gruff voice surprises you. "How do you know?"

"Because I'm gonna get him," Kitty replies, pulling you deeper into the building. "I just need to make sure you guys are safe first."

"And how are you gonna do that?" you ask, breathless. Your feet pound the floor in rhythm with theirs, legs aching. Only the adrenaline coursing through your veins keeps you going. 

"This way," Kitty hisses, yanking you towards a narrow corridor. The building's layout becomes a maze of twisting hallways and locked doors. Alarms blare, red emergency lights casting eerie shadows.

Logan sniffs the air. "We've got company. Multiple hostiles, closing in fast."

"There's a safe room," Kitty says, her voice strained. "It's small, but it'll have to do."

Your stomach tightens at the word 'small'. "How small are we talking?"

She doesn't answer, instead phasing through another wall, pulling you along. You emerge into a dim, cluttered storage area. At the far end, a heavy metal door stands ajar.

"In there. Now!" Logan growls, glancing behind you.

The thundering footsteps of your pursuers grow louder. Your heart races as you approach the door, catching a glimpse of the cramped space beyond. It's barely larger than a closet.

Kitty pushes you forward. "You don't have a choice. Get in!"

You hesitate, your breath catching in your throat. The walls seem to close in already, even from outside. But the sound of gunfire erupting behind you slowly convinces you to enter, but not fast enough. Kitty grabs both you and Logan and before you can protest, she phases you through the thick steel door. 

“Don’t go anywhere.” Kitty demands before she walks through the other side of the closet just as quickly as she put you in here. 

A small “no” escapes your lips as you reach out to touch the walls. You try to find any crevice to show your not completely shut off from everything but its no use, it’s too dark and from what your fingers can feel there’s nothing. The steel is stainless, and smooth. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, suddenly becoming too aware of your heart beating in your chest, and you suddenly feel lightheaded. You try and catch your breath but you can’t, you try and breathe but your lungs cant open enough as it hits you, your world shrinks to the size of a coffin. You try to take a deep breath, but you keep coming short.

"You okay?" Kitty whispers, her voice too close in the blackness.

You want to answer, to say you're fine, but the words stick in your throat. The walls are too close, the air too thin. You're trapped, and panic begins to claw its way up from your chest.

You try to soothe yourself, eyes squeezed shut, desperately imagining a vast field. Hoping to enhance the illusion, you peel your hands from the walls. Suddenly, a loud boom shakes the room, steel groaning around you. Logan tenses beside you, a stark reminder that danger still lurks beyond your confined space.

Your breathing becomes more erratic. Sweat beads on your forehead as the small space seems to shrink even further. Your fingers tingle, and a wave of nausea hits you.

"It's okay, it's okay," you mutter, but the words sound hollow even to your own ears. You take a step back, trying to escape the wall, only to collide with Logan's chest. He finally notices your distress.

"Hey, you alright?" He shifts, touching you lightly. You flinch away instinctively.

"Sorry," you pant. "Would now be a bad time to tell you I'm claustrophobic?" You attempt a chuckle, hands fumbling to steady yourself. Eyes clenched shut, you feel saliva pooling in your mouth. "I think I'm gonna barf," you whisper.

"Hey, hey!" Logan turns you around to face him. "Look at me." You briefly open your eyes, making out only his shadowy form, hunched over. You quickly shut them again.

"Are you hunching over because the ceiling's too short?" you ask, still dizzy. Your fingertips find his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his solid torso. He shifts, followed by a soft thud.

"No," he says.

"You're lying." You clench your hand, pressing your fist against his stomach. The rhythm of his breathing slowly anchors you, pulling you back to reality.

"Maybe, but that's not important," he says, his voice closer than before. You feel him shift, moving nearer.

Your fist sinks deeper into the muscle of his stomach as his heavy hands rest on your shoulders, grounding you.

"Why are you just saying something now?" he asks, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

"I-it never seemed to matter," your voice shakes, your other hand wrapping around his forearm for support. "Until now." You feel tears forming in your eyes. "I-I'm sorry."

"Oh," you hear him breathe out softly. "Oh, Y/N." He sighs, a mix of concern and understanding in his tone.

Suddenly, his arms envelop you, cradling your head against his chest. The gesture, though meant to comfort, unfortunately intensifies your panic. Your breath hitches as the feeling of being trapped increases, despite the warmth of his embrace. You try to pull away but his arms don’t budge. 

Your breathing becomes more rapid against Logan's chest. The warmth of his embrace, meant to comfort, instead fuels your panic. "I can't—" you gasp, your fingers clawing at his shirt. "It's too tight, too close."

He cuts you off, shushing you. 

“Yes, you can.” He reassures you, his hand stroking your head.

"Listen to me," Logan says firmly, his gruff voice softening with an unexpected gentleness. "We're gonna try something. Focus on my voice and breathe with me. Can you do that?"

You manage a small nod against his chest, your forehead pressed against the rough fabric of his shirt. Logan must feel the slight movement because he shifts, adjusting his stance to better support you.

"Good," he murmurs, the word rumbling through his chest. "Now, feel my breathing. Try to match it."

Logan takes a deep, deliberate breath. You feel his chest expand against you, the steady rise and fall a stark contrast to your own erratic gasps. He holds you close, one hand splayed across your back, the other cradling the nape of your neck. His calloused fingers are surprisingly gentle, grounding you in the moment.

"In through your nose," he instructs, his voice low and measured. You struggle to comply, your breath hitching. "That's it," he encourages. "Now hold it for a moment."

You feel the pause in his chest's movement, a moment of stillness in the chaotic swirl of your thoughts. 

"Now out through your mouth," Logan continues, his own exhale warm against the top of your head. "Slow and steady."

As you attempt to follow his lead, you become acutely aware of other sensations: the faint scent of cigar smoke clinging to Logan's shirt, the steady thud of his heartbeat against your ear, the warmth of his body contrasting with the cool metal walls surrounding you.

"Again," Logan says softly. "In... hold... and out. You're doing great, kid."

Gradually, your breathing begins to sync with his. The vice-like grip of panic on your chest starts to loosen, ever so slightly. In this small, dark space, Logan's presence becomes an anchor, a point of focus beyond the suffocating walls.

"That's it," he murmurs, a note of approval in his voice. "Just keep breathing with me. We'll get through this together."

You nod, one hundred percent sure that if you were to talk right now, it wouldn't be heard. Closing your eyes, you lean more of your weight against Logan. You take in his scent—a mix of cigar smoke, leather, and something uniquely him—his warmth seeping into you, his solid presence anchoring you in the moment. You melt into him, relishing the feel of his muscular body against yours.

In this intimate moment, your mind drifts to all the times you've admired Logan from afar. He's always been the ruggedly handsome mentor, the forbidden fruit that made your heart race during training sessions. You've caught his lingering glances, felt the electricity when his hand corrected your stance, noticed how his eyes seemed to soften when they landed on you.

There's always been something there, simmering beneath the surface. An unspoken connection, a tension that neither of you dared to acknowledge. You've told yourself it was just a silly crush, that Logan saw you as nothing more than a student. But the gentleness in his touch now, the care in his voice—it speaks of something deeper.

This moment, trapped in this tiny space, feels like a test of your limits. The boundaries between mentor and student, between longing and reality, seem to blur. Your racing heart isn't just from claustrophobia anymore, and you're certain Logan can feel it.

But now isn't the time for these thoughts. The danger lurking outside this safe room, the mission at hand—it all comes rushing back. You know you should pull away, regain your composure, focus on the task at hand. Yet, for just a few more seconds, you allow yourself to stay in Logan's embrace, drawing strength from him in more ways than one.

As your breathing finally steadies, you reluctantly begin to pull back, ready to face whatever comes next. But not before you catch a glimpse of something in Logan's eyes—concern, certainly, but also a flicker of something else. Something that makes your breath catch for an entirely different reason, you realize you're still pressed against Logan's chest. You step back slightly, looking up at him in the dim light.

"I... Thank you, Logan. I don't know what I would've done if..."

He cuts you off with a gentle squeeze of your shoulder. "We all have our demons, kid. The trick is not letting them win." His voice drops lower, almost a whisper. "You did good."

The moment is interrupted by another distant explosion, reminding you both of the pressing danger.

[xvysarene]

𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝔻𝕖𝕖𝕕

Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader Prompt: “You’re pretty good at running away.” Words: ~2.8k Genre: Eventual fluff A/N: In a writing slump and kinda dislike how this one turns out but oh wells

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

“Marry me,” you had said.

Those two words—whether they were your saving grace or the beginning of your damnation, you weren’t sure.

Then, he surprised you when he said, “Okay.”

Nothing more and nothing less.

It almost felt like he had anticipated your arrival, barreling your way into the base upon learning of your father’s, one of Onychinus’s highest-ranking partners’, demise.

Seeing your stupefied expression, he nonchalantly shrugged. “It’s a practical solution to an unfortunate situation.”

That wasn’t your first time meeting Sylus, and you’d be far too naïve to think he would ever do anything for free. Every favour, every exchange, came with an unspoken contract—an inevitable quid pro quo.

But it was a choice between marrying him or being eaten alive in the N109 Zone.

“Although, I must ask—have you truly thought this through?” Sylus inquired, his gaze sharp.

There was a reason why you chose to move to Goldwood City once you had the chance; far away from the lawless land to start anew, free from the shadow of your father’s association.

As if the death of your mother caused by his recklessness years ago wasn’t enough, the old man had to pull you back into the very world you had succeeded to leave behind.

Staying away was a luxury you no longer had with your old man’s enemies haunting you.

Head held high, you met his gaze directly. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure of my choice.”

Oh, little did you know, that your return to the N109 Zone as Onychinus’s leader’s wife, would mean putting your heart on the line as well.

Perhaps it all started that one evening, when a nightmare jolted you awake, haunting you with the vision of your mother’s lifeless eyes and being captured by the people your father had entangled himself with.

Without even realising it, you were already standing at Sylus’s doorway. 

“Why?” he questioned when you asked if you could stay the night in his. “Something wrong with your room?”

Indeed, he offered you your own space even though you were legally husband and wife now. It had been a relief at first, a perfect arrangement, until the nightmares escalated.

“It just feels too quiet tonight,” you lied, unready to fully bare your soul.

Sylus finally looked up from the papers he’d been reading, one eyebrow arched. “Not used to being alone at night back in Goldwood?”

Your face flushed at the implication. Just as you opened your mouth to deny it, something in his expression shifted.

It was so fleeting and subtle that you weren’t even sure if you had imagined it.

He raised a hand, halting your reply. “Actually, never mind about it.”

When he simply returned to his papers, offering no clear sign of whether you were welcome, you frowned.

You were about to take your bruised pride back to your room when you heard him let out a resigned sigh. “Are you coming or no? You’re letting the draft in,” he said, pulling back the duvet on the vacant side, inviting you to settle in.

His acceptance was surprising, but you quickly climbed into bed before he could change his mind, feeling a surge of relief and security with him close by.

If you were too close for comfort, he didn’t mention it.

Sylus was so warm that you shuddered from the sudden temperature change. The base, with its perpetual chill, was a stark contrast to his body heat.

“What are you reading?”

“Mundane proposals,” he muttered, tone laced with boredom as his eyes skimmed the pages in front of him.

With your interest piqued, you scooted even closer, your hair slightly brushing his arm. “Anything I should know about?”

When you told him that you wouldn’t settle for being a trophy wife, he offered you an administrative position in Onychinus, which you happily accepted.

“I feel that these are better off in the trash.”

A small chuckle escaped you, drawing Sylus’s attention. He cast a glance downward, amused by your reaction.

That somewhat prompted him to give a brief outline of the proposal, perhaps to get him through it too. And he was right, it was so dull that you felt your eyes fluttering closed, lulled by the deep timbre of his voice.

“—heard that the twins take good care of you.”

“Hm?” You peeked one of your eyes open, though it was futile as it soon closed again.

Whenever he was away, Luke or Kieran—often both—were always by your side, becoming more than just your guards; they were your mentors, teaching you the complexities of Onychinus’s operations, and they were slowly becoming your…

Friends. A foreign term to you.

Friendship had never been something you could afford, not with the constant paranoia of trusting the wrong person, no thanks to your father.

In your drowsy state, you remembered mumbling, “I feel at ease when I’m with them.”

“At ease, huh? That’s a rare concept around here.” Sylus���s voice cut through the fog of your drowsiness.

Your mind, still wrapped in the haze of sleep, seemed to speak for itself. “You also make me feel more comfortable than I expected.”

Looking back, you laughed mirthlessly at your own stupidness. Where was that defense mechanism you had sworn was ingrained within you?

You knew better than to allow yourself to be vulnerable, to let someone slip past your guard easily in such a short span of time.

Especially someone like Sylus—a man cloaked in power, whose intentions were always enigmatic.

“You’re pretty good at running away.” The voice, carried by the wind, reached your ears. “Pretty good, but not the best.”

“Here to claim your bargaining tool back?”

His footsteps stopped a few paces away from you. Refusing to meet his gaze, you remained looking ahead. The once vibrant colours of sunset faded into darkness, as if the sky itself mirrored the ache seeping deep inside your soul.

Sylus let out a deep sigh. “How much did you know?”

A few days ago, while you were sorting through Onychinus’s papers, you stumbled upon an old, yellowed document hidden deep on a neglected shelf, seemingly placed there to remain undiscovered.

As you read through the faded ink—an exchange made between your father and Sylus a long time ago, marked with their signs and bloodied fingerprints—it felt as though you heard your old man laughing from his grave, determined to terrorise you even in death.

That bastard had sold you to Sylus, bartering your life for a sliver of power within the N109 Zone.

“Did you have fun watching me pathetically beg you to marry me? Knowing all along that you’ve owned me anyway?”

The memory of his calmness that day burned in the back of your mind. Your intuition was right after all, he had anticipated you coming to him.

And if you were honest with yourself, it wasn't even your father you were so angry with—you’d always known what a monster he was.

No, what burned like a hot iron in your chest was the sense of betrayal, the sting of disappointment aimed squarely at Sylus. 

How could you have been so blind, so gullible to believe that this man could be anything more than another player in your father’s ruthless game?

“I asked you that day if it was what you truly wanted,” he calmly said, “I never forced you to marry me.”

You bristled. He was right, of course.

“But you would make sure that one way or another, you would claim me as your possession, wouldn't you? Even from the moment we first met,” you spat.

It was a few years ago when you were first introduced to Sylus. Your mother had begged you to accompany her to a function, and how could you refuse when the guilt of leaving her in the N109 Zone with your father still weighed heavily on you?

For whatever reason you couldn’t understand, she had refused to move in with you.

The function was a blur of faces and conversations that made your head spin, the air thick with the aroma of expensive cigars and the tang of power.

You felt out of place, an outsider in a world that had once been your cage.

“Darling, I want you to meet someone.” Your mother’s tone was a strange mixture of joy and nervousness. She gently took your arm and guided you through the crowd until you stood before a tall figure, his presence commanding.

“This is Sylus, the leader of Onychinus,” she introduced. “He’s agreed to work with your father on some very important matters.”

You blinked in surprise. Somehow, you expected the leader of the most prominent organisation to be someone closer to your father’s age, but he was only a couple of years older than you.

Sylus’s features were sharp and striking, though it was his eyes that held you captive. They were intense, piercing, as if he could see right through you.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Y/N,” Sylus greeted. He took your hand in his, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your knuckles.

Your mother’s keen eyes noticed the crimson that spread across your cheeks, her lips pursing to contain a smile.

“Oh, Sylus, no need for such formalities,” she said lightly, elbowing you to greet him back.

You tried to compose yourself, but his unexpected charm and the way he looked at you left you flustered. “I—uh, nice to meet you too," you managed to stammer.

“Your mother speaks highly of you,” his low voice sent tingling sensation on your insides.

The soft rustle of grass as Sylus settled beside you made your skin prickle. Stupidly, you still craved his closeness.

The nightmares had ceased when you began staying in his bedroom altogether, finding security in the steady rhythm of his breathing beside you. But since fleeing the base, they returned relentlessly, creeping back each time you managed to get a shut eye.

He stretched out his long legs, the fabric of his jacket brushing against you slightly, his gaze fixed on the distant city lights glimmering on the horizon.

“I didn't want you to find out like this,” he finally said, voice low and measured, as if he had carefully chosen each word.

“Then enlighten me, Sylus, what was your grand plan? To control me? To tame me into the docile wife you always wanted me to be?”

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sleek black box, pressing it into your hands. “This will explain better than any of my words.”

Slowly, you opened the latch, revealing a collection of emblems—some new, some tarnished—from various N109 Zone fractions. Resting on top of the seals was a folded envelope, its edges frayed.

Sylus nodded towards it, urging you to read the letter inside. As you unfolded the paper, the familiar handwriting of your mother’s came into view, despite the hurried and uneven scrawl.

What I could not say, his deeds will show. Have faith in him.

“Your mother approached me before the agreement with your father was finalised.” Sylus’s expression was unreadable. “She wanted me to protect you. From your father, and from anyone that might harm you.”

As the dots began to connect inside your spinning head, the realisation dawned. “And that’s why you asked for me in return? Why didn’t you tell me this when I first came to you?”

“Keeping you near would make it easier for me to ensure your safety, at least until I could handle all of your father’s enemies.” He shot you a sideways glance. “Do you think we’d be here now if I had laid it all out for you from the start?”

You both knew that if he had, you would have likely flipped him off and done everything in your power to escape his presence.

The cold metal emblems bit into your palm as you examined them, each one representing what had once been a looming threat. A deep understanding shifted your perspective entirely; this was what Sylus had been occupied with during the days he left you in the care of Luke and Kieran.

He had been thoroughly hunting down your father’s enemies, your nightmare, to ensure that you could finally be free from them.

It wasn’t his incompetence that had kept him from finding you days after your escape. No, he had been securing the final pieces of your freedom.

“What did you ask from my mother then? There must have been something you got, that’s how you grant wishes.”

Sylus gave a soft huff, as if he was on the verge of a chuckle, and shook his head. “Contrary to popular belief, I do grant wishes without expecting anything back.”

Your eyes flicked to him in surprise as he continued, “Nothing. I asked for nothing in return. Your mother earned my respect, and that was enough.”

Everyone understood that dealing with Sylus was a risk, a gamble that could even cost you your life.

Studying him intently, you searched for any trace of deception, but all you discovered was a grave sincerity. His eyes were unnervingly tender when he watched the shock painting your face.

“I’ve kept my promise to your mother. You're a free woman now, free to do whatever you want.” Sylus broke eye contact then, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he added, “We can also get a divorce.”

A divorce.

The word set something unsettling that clawed at your insides, sinking deep into your core, and catching you completely off guard.

For a moment, your mind replayed the way his intense red eyes met yours with kindness, to his touch that held a tenderness that couldn't be faked, and the subtle ways he had shown his care for nearly half a year now.

You hugged your knees tighter, the cold ground beneath you contrasting sharply with the warmth of your memories. “Is that what you want? For us to go separate ways?”

“What I want,” he began slowly, “never matters. This has always been about you. Your choice.”

A second passed, then ten, before you quietly whispered, “What if I choose to stay with you then?”

It was as if a wall had been erected again.

“You are not thinking with your head right now, but with your heart. You trusted me because you saw me as your only lifeline.” His voice was rough, edged with frustration.

“But what if underneath the leader of Onychinus, underneath the man that everyone fears, is the one I want to stay with, the one I feel at ease with? Not because of my father’s shadows nor his enemies.”

Sylus breath hitched, a sudden tension rippling through his frame as he struggled to keep his composure. “You don’t know me.”

His voice carried a warning, attempting to push you away, but you stood your ground.

In that moment, you understood why he often held himself back, creating distance whenever he found himself growing too close.

He was afraid of caring for you beyond what he thought his promise to your mother allowed, struggling to maintain the balance between his feelings and his commitment, fearing that crossing that line would mean violating his duty.

“Then show me.” You moved closer, invading his personal space. “Show me what’s behind all this.”

With resolve burning in your eyes, you cupped his face and leaned in. Your lips sought his, praying you hadn't misread him all this time.

That you wanted the warmth and tenderness you’d glimpsed in fleeting moments to be real and not just a reflection of your own desires.

For a breathless moment, he remained still. Then, something in him seemed to break, a crack in his armour. Strong, corded arms slid around you, pulling you closer until you both tumbled back onto the grass, entwined.

His hand brushed the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as his lips pressed into yours with a ravenous need.

It was a kind of kiss that laid bare the truth, shattered every wall, and left you panting for air.

Your breaths intermingled when you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. There was a vulnerable openness in there, a look concealed beneath the hardened exterior.

“You never read my mother’s letter, did you?” you suddenly asked him.

Confusion flickered in his eyes, his brows knitting together as he shook his head. With trembling fingers, you retrieved the letter from the box and held it up between you.

The dim light from the horizon cast soft shadows on the small message scribbled on the bottom of the paper.

Sylus’s eyes traced the words, his gaze shifting from the letter to your face as the message slowly registered.

Sylus—remember that you, too, deserve love just as much as she does.

It was as though your mother had not only seen the heart within him, but had also foreseen what he had struggled to admit.

With a gentle touch, your thumb brushed against his cheek, lips featherlight as it brushed against his once more. “Take me home, Sy.”

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST

[naturesapphic]

Hi! Would you be able to do a CEO!older!Natasha romanoff x Younger!fem!reader fic where reader is part of a startup advertising company while nat is the feared CEO of a well known advertising company and both met in a fancy wine bar only find out they’re business rivals in the advertising industry. Fluffy and some steamy smut please

Business rivals

CEO!older!natasha romanoff x young!fem!reader

Warnings: strict nat, fluff, smut

Word count: 1,002 :)

Walking into the bar, you were hit with the smell of alcohol and some type of fancy perfume. You walked up to the bar and sat down and ordered a strawberry martini. Feeling a presence behind you, you looked behind you to see a beautiful red head in a black suit and tie. “May I seat here?” She asks in a strict but kind voice. You gave her a smile and nodded your head. The red head smiled back and sat down next to you. “What are you having sweetheart?” The red head asked and you chuckled at the pet name she gave you. “A strawberry martini.” You replied and she shook her head. “Why don’t I buy you something stronger hm?” She suggested and you shook your head.

“No thank you. I need to stay as sober as I can. I have to go to work tomorrow.” You explained to her and she nodded in understanding. "I have work too but ! can just call out if I really need to." She smirked as she called over the bartender and ordered a bottle of vodka. Your eyes widen in surprise at her choice of alcohol and she just gave you a playful smirk and wink. The two of you talked for hours at the bar and learned so much about each other but what she was about to say now was something you weren’t expecting her to say. “I’m actually the CEO of stark advertising.” She confessed and you felt your whole face turn pale at her words. The redhead noticed how your whole demeanor change and she asked what was wrong.

“You work for stark advertising. You are Natalia Romanov, You are my rival!” You exclaimed with wide eyes and Natasha’s eyes widen themselves. “Shit…” she muttered under her breath while you sat there dumbfounded. “You are feared and an asshole..but getting to know you…the real you…I don’t see it…” you confessed to her and she looked into your eyes with a mix of mischievousness and softness in them. She got a little bit closer to you and carefully took one of your hands in hers, making you look up at her. “I really like you y/n. If you could just give me a chance…we can even go back to my place tonight if you want.” She suggested and you nodded, deciding to give her a chance.

~ at the house ~

You didn’t know how you were half naked on her bed with her on top of you but that’s what’s happening. Lips are connected and moving as you swiftly take off Natasha’s clothes. She was completely bare, her pale skin gleaming in the lamp light that was shining on the bedside table near the bed. Her short red hair that sits on her shoulders frames her face. You were in awe of her and she interrupted your admiration but leaning down and kissing your neck sloppily. You were a complete mess and she was barely doing anything to you. Natasha while kissing your neck and leaving hickies behind, was busy taking the rest of your clothes off, leaving you fully naked as well. Her bare body pressed up against your had you spiraling and not thinking straight.

Her gentle but yet firm touches and the smell of her hair, the softness of her body, the noises that come out of her mouth when you hit a certain spot, had both of you in a frenzy. Natasha was satisfied with your neck and started leaving kisses down to your breast. Your nipples harden by the coldness that filled the room and she took one of your pink buds between her lips, suckling softly. You bit your lip at the sensation and gently raised your hand to run your fingers through her red locks making her eyes snap up at you. She sucked on both of your nipples before kissing down to your stomach to your pelvis. She kisses all over your thighs until she got to your dripping cunt. Using her index and middle finger, she spread opened your lips, revealing your wetness and your throbbing hole.

Natasha smirked and licked her lips. “Is this all for me doll?” She said huskily that made your pussy clench. “Y-yes nat…all for you..” you whimper out, causing her to chuckle. She leaned down and attached her lips around your clit, sucking harshly. You let out a strangled breath and you shut your eyes tightly, feeling the pleasure all through your body, like a shock. She lapped at your pussy then went back to sucking on your clit, mixing the two together to get you to orgasm quickly. Which happened because not even a few minutes later you felt the tightness in your stomach and you let go. You came all in her mouth and Natasha greedily lapped it all up, not leaving a drop behind. You panted in the middle of the bed, recovering from the orgasm that nat just gave you.

“Fuck nat…” you breath out and Natasha let out a chuckle as she goes up and lays beside you, pulling your sweaty body to hers. “That was amazing.” You tell her as you roll over to face her, her arms still wrapped around your body. “I’m glad it was…” she said softly as she moves some of your sweaty strands of hair away from your face, causing your face to heat up. The two of you laid there admiring each other until y’all fell asleep in each others arms.

A/n: I haven’t been very good with endings but thank you @unlady-like-12-25-36 for the request! I hope you enjoyed it and that everyone else did too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all :) special thing coming up this week ;)