#laid to rest fanfiction

[silverhyenaart]

Are you planning on continuing “Good Pets Wear Their Collar” or is it abandoned? I usually don’t ask, but it’s been almost two years and I really did like it.

Hi, it's not abandoned. Just on an extended hiatus while I work on my current hyper fixation.

[shedontsmelltoogooddarious]

ChromeskullxOC (SMUT)

Shameless self indulgent first time writing actual smut between my OC, an eldritch mafia boss and Chromeskull from Laid To Rest. Two bad rich older men sdhdhdhd

(Black is trans)

He picked the most upscale club in town to discuss business with his partner, within a private room, drinks going in and out as Ivanov barely paid attention, his wallet was too fat to care. He lit another cigarette, offering one to the man sitting across from himself. He took it, his mangled face lowering to light it- barely acknowledging the desperation bursting through the mafia boss’s seems. “So tell me, are those girls beneath your knife satisfying you enough?” 

Black purred, prompting Jesse to look up, his hands suddenly going into motion; “Very much so, thank you for asking.” He signed, before smirking- knowingly at the face of danger. If he wanted, Black could snap the experienced serial killer like a twig. 

“Nice to know that our rendezvous meant nothing to you, but I guess we’re here to strictly discuss business.” 

He poured himself another drink, taking a swig before slamming it down to the table. “Preston emailed me about you needing another place to “play”, I supposed I could allow you to have free reign on one of my properties in the city- but why should I give you that privilege?” 

“Because you still want to fuck me.” 

Jesse signed once more, before taking a drag off his cigarette, smoke whisping out of the holes where his nose should have been. A low growl could be heard, his human form slipping. But Jesse remained nonchalant, ignoring it like his former lover ignored him when his face melted off. 

Muffled techno music could be heard, filling in the silence between both men. “You’re right, and I always get what I want when I want,” 

His hand shot across the table between them as he grabbed Jesse’s shirt, ripping expensive silk in the process as his lips feverishly collided with his ex’s. Instead of fighting back, he allowed it- his long, boney fingers entwining with Ivanov’s black hair. The don was expanding, sickly popping and crunching sounds being heard as he contorted into his true, monstrous form. Tendrils wrapped around Jesse’s legs, parting them, the sharp blade of a knife suddenly against Black’s throat. 

“No.” An electronic voice commanded, the blade biting into his skin- right above his jugulars. Don Ivanonov was shoved down to the floor, a human dominating a monster, a predator of his species. He undid his belt buckle, his cock throbbing out as it was erect. Jesse’s free hand traveled down to Black’s pants, undoing them to reveal a familiar sight, his fervid pussy already seeping. His face flushed in embarrassment as he turned his head away, forgetting the blade held to his throat before feeling sharp pain as Jesse shoved it deeper. 

“You’re so pathetic- look at me!” He growled, before his black leather glove hand grabbed his bottom jaw and forced him to look into his mangled face. “You’re mine- you’ve always been mine.” 

WIthout warning, his member slid inside Black’s warm insides as he needily thrusted into him. How long has it been since he last was inside one of the most notoriously dangerous dons in this city? Too long. The knife against Black’s throat trailed down to his own dress shirt, cutting it open as the blade slid across his skin, causing inky black blood to bead out against his pale white skin. 

The thrusting gradually turned to a steady pace, syncing with the rhythm of the music outside, stretching Black’s insides out as his claws dug deep into the tiled flooring, leaving deep grooves behind. Jesse lifted his partner’s hips up, gripping his large thighs tightly, shoving himself deeper yet. “I’ve heard you’re whoring yourself out in this city- tell me, what happened to your playthings Ivanov?”

Jesse growled, sparing no mercy for Black as he continued, going faster with the tempo. Black gritted his teeth, his pride now in shambles as he was drunk on pleasure and pain. 

“Answer me!” His fingers dug deeper, Black’s tendrils going limp. 

“You killed them.” He moaned, recoiling in disgust internally. 

Jesse grinned, going slower with the tempo change, but still keeping a firm hold on the man larger than himself. His cock throbbed, he knew he was about to come soon- but he wanted to keep going, to reclaim what was his and his alone. “You’ve been fucking around with my toys as well, you can’t share can you? You’re a greedy old bastard.” 

He was about to come too, his legs shaking- insides clenching around Jesse’s cock. They squeezed, kneading against him. He needed more. His claws found themselves in Jesse’s shoulders, gripping for dear life as his lips once more collided with the human’s, but this time his sharp teeth were prominent. He bit down on Jesse’s lower lip, instantly drawing blood, savoring the familiar taste. “You’re like a damn drug.” Black snarled, 

Jesse was unable to hold it back any longer, his back arching as he came into Black, his hot seed spilling deep inside. As if on cue, Black too came, his name sake’s goo spilling out as it leaked from every orifice, mixing with his partner’s crimson red blood. Black made an attempt to pull away, but his partner had other ideas. He locked in his grip, coming again into Black before thrusting once more. 

“What are you-” 

“I want you pregnant.” 

A new track was placed down, faster and harder.

[noxnephilim]

EROS

Oh, how much you love those sighs. You worked hard for them after all. It wasn't everyday that you got to explore every inch of those muscles, gently laying kisses in your wake, making him slightly breathless. Especially as your hand roamed from his throat, slowly going down, and down.

But most importantly, those moan. Whispered like a secret in the night. You drank those like they were fine wine. And they were. Your mouth couldn't get enough of them, his lips so plump and red.

Gently rocking in and out,you understood what he saw. Those blissed eyes, full of tears, that lovely round mouth open, moaning and sighing your name.

It was addicting.

Very much so.

And when you hit that spot? That full on choked scream made you feral. Oh gosh. That was music in your ears.

"We're not done yet, darling. Can you be a good boy for me? you whispered, raising goosebumps on your wake.

It was going to be a long night.

[tothefiniteyou]

never mind, I had time before work and did the thing jksalgds

CW: Brief self-harm in the form of scratching, panic attacks, mentions of vomit but nothing too graphic, minor character death, internalized ableism, and heavy references to emotional child abuse. However, Leo is also an unreliable narrator in some ways, so take some of his feelings with a grain of salt.

SUMMARY: A glimpse into the first kill for each of the turtles. Based in my own fan iteration.

[alastor-simp]

Alastor x Reader - Sleeping On His Lap

Here is my attempt at a Alastor x reader fanfiction. Took me awhile to kinda get into his character so please don't be mad if Alastor seems a bit off. Enjoy!

Sigh, it was another eventful day at the Happy Hotel, or Hazbin Hotel as it was now called as a certain deer demon decided to change the name. You had spent all day doing certain tasks around the hotel such as helping Charlie create posters for the hotel, clean the rooms with Nifty, break up the brawl between Vaggie and Angel Dust as he had pissed her off one too many times and organize the bar for Husk as he was passed out drunk. You could have refused to do these things, but you enjoyed helping people, so it made it all worth it.

You had started working at the hotel after you had saw Charlie singing on the 666 news about the hotel and redeeming demons, only for her idea to be made a laughing stock upon everyone who watched the broadcast. You actually had mixed feelings about the whole redeeming thing, seeing as you weren't sure if someone like you could be sent to heaven, despite not being a very big criminal during your time when you were alive, but apparently doing a little shoplifting is enough to send you a one way ticket to hell. Charlie's words did inspire you a little bit, so even if you felt that you couldn't be redeemed, others probably had a better chance, so you decided to head to the hotel and ask for a job after the broadcast was cut off from the brawl with Charlie and Katie Killjoy. You were hired in a split second and immediately pulled into a bear hug by Charlie, and then introduced you to the others.

Back to the present, you began to feel extremely exhausted from moving around everywhere, so you headed over to one of the rooms with the long couches so you could take a rest. Heading into one of the rooms, you peeped around and saw that no one was there, which made it better as you really needed some peace and quiet. Heaving a deep sigh, you sat down on the couch, turning and falling back, as you laid your body down, with your head facing the front of the couch. "What a long day", thinking to yourself as your eyes slowly began to close and you were lulled into a deep sleep.

**2 Hours Later**

As you were sleeping, you felt the sensation of someone petting your head, the soothing feeling had awoken you a bit, but you quickly fell back asleep at the warm touch. You could feel that you were holding something in your dreams, and you assumed it was one of the pillows on the couch, so you brought it closer to your face and nuzzled it. "Mm, smells nice ", as the scent from the pillow was making you more relaxed, as it reminded you of a being in the middle of a deep forest. After sleeping for 30 more minutes, you slowly began to open your eyes, and try to make out what was in front of you. Expecting to see a pillow, you saw red stripes in front of you, "Huh?" As you were still trying to make out what was in front of you, a loud voice interrupted your thoughts: "Ah, awake now are we?", said a static voice above you. Eyes opening wide, you looked up from your position and saw Alastor staring down at you with his trademark smile. Slowly, you began to piece together that you were laying on his lap, and nuzzled into his chest as you were sleeping. "AHHHH", jumping up from your position, you rolled off his lap, and your body fell to the ground as you stared at Alastor in shock, as he continued to look at you with his glowing eyes, amused at your reaction. "Um, h-how long was I sleeping on your lap?", you softly asked, as your face was red, but your eyes were showing fear, as you remembered that Alastor did not like to be touch, and you happened to hug him in your sleep. "HAHA, For quite a while, darling. It was a very busy day, I assume?", Alastor said as he placed his arm on the armrest of the couch, and his hand against his cheek, smiling even wider.

Nodding your head, you slowly got up from your position, and started apologizing to Alastor, eyes aiming towards the ground and fingers twiddling together. Alastor raised an eyebrow and wondered why you were apologizing, to which you answered that you had hugged him in your sleep, and that he made it very aware that he did not enjoy physical contact from someone unless he initiated it, feeling extremely bad if you made him uncomfortable. Listening to you, Alastor's smile relaxed to a small grin as he looked at you with gentle eyes. He did admit that he was not use to being touch by others, and was quite surprised from the sleep hug, but he didn't detest it as much coming from you, which boggled his mind completely. It must be due to your kind and innocent nature that made him react different around you, as he was used to more of the common riff raff being terrified of him or trying to battle in a turf war, but how you were with him, made his black heart melt.

Feeling that Alastor was upset as he didn't respond to your apology, you quickly excused yourself and began to head over to the door to leave. A loud SNAP was heard and before you knew it, you had been teleported back on to the couch, this time being seated on Alastors lap. "A-Al, what are you doing?!", your face began to become as red as his hair, while your eyes stared at Alastor in shock. Smiling at you, Alastor moved his hand to your chin and tilted your face up: "There is no need to apologize, darling. If I had been upset about you hugging me, you possibly w̩͉͍̱̍̂̉̊o̫̼̐̎̋͜u͚͌l̳̓d̠͉̗͋̔͞'̼̳̣̼͊̏̾̾t͜͝ ͕̱͐͠ḇ̅e̙͗ ͍͓͔̱͍͛̔͌͘͞a̝̜̘̎́͒ḽ͒í̱̙̈́v̧̌e̠͠ ̢̹̜́́̈̀ͅr̲͇̳̅̽͌i̩͈̒̅ĝ̲̦̎ẖ̛̳̲͙̀͌̽͘ͅt͉̅ ͖̞͍̞́̋͛͛ň͚̫̦́͂̿͟o̱͌w̡̕" he said, as his eyes flashed for a second into radio dials. "However! I am not opposed to be touched by you. So no need to apologize, my dear.", Alastor said as he continued to smile at you widely, but his glowing eyes were looking at you softly, letting you know that he was not angry with you. Feeling shy, you turned your head away from Alastor, muttering a soft okay, as your heart was beating rapidly. "Smile my dear!" Alastor said as he moved his hand from your chin to your cheek, to have you look at him again. Baring through the embarrassing situation, you gave Al a small smile, which pleased him. "You always over do it, darling. While Charlie and I appreciate your efforts at helping the hotel, it does no good to work yourself to the point of fatigue. If you are ever feeling exhausted and need a break, don't be hesitant to come find me, as my radio tower is open to you. Understand, my dear?" said Alastor, as he leaned closer towards you, making you flustered again.

Nodding your head was enough to let Alastor knew you understood as he chuckled, while sliding you off his lap, and as he stood up from the couch. "Now then, we should probably head back to the lobby before the others get worried about our lack of presence.", He said, as he straighten his coat out, while turning towards you, extending his hand out for you to take it. "Yeah we should", as you grabbed his hand, and made your way with him back to the lobby. You were still trying to process what just happened between you and Alastor, but you feel like you both have become much closer then before, and you didn't mind it one bit.

[sunflowerdjarin]

Company

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Reynolds x Reader

Warnings: None?

A/N: I have not written fanfiction in literal years, so be gentle with me and let me know if you would like more of Bob.

-

“Will you keep Bob company?” He asked. “He gets lonely sometimes and he likes you, really.” Bucky reassured. Bob only truly spoke to you when necessary. It was nothing rude. Bob didn’t have a rude bone in his body, you knew that, but placing two rather reserved people in a room together didn’t lead to the most exhilarating conversations.

You nodded back, “I can do that. I’m not sure how, but I can do that.” You looked down at the to do list for the tower and at the bottom added a swift note, “Keep Bob company.” With a star next to it. “Thank you. I appreciate it, and I’m sure he will too.”

The first day was quiet. Bob sat alone in his room. He knew it wasn’t the best idea for him. It was after all isolation. He had been so used to the house buzzing with lively characters. Instead, he could only hear your light footsteps and soft humming through the floor. There was a light background noise coming from the television from the main living room. Bob wasn’t meaning to avoid you. He never meant to avoid you. You made him so incredibly flustered that he felt all thoughts leave his head, which made it difficult for conversation.

There was a light tap on the door. “Come- Come in.” Bob called out. The door lightly opened. You stood in a plain colored t-shirt with sweatpants on. Bob had only ever seen you in your professional attire. This was a stark difference that Bob clearly liked better. He was sitting on his bed cross legged with a sweater on and sweats. A smile twitched at the corner of your lips at the sight. Bob noticed. He noticed everything about you. “Alpine missed you.” Bob looked down at the black cat swirling around your ankles that then jumped up onto Bob’s bed. He rubbed against Bob’s chest then laid down in his lap.

“What’s your comfort meal?” You asked, leaning against the doorframe. You wanted to be able to walk in with the same freedom as Alpine, but crawling onto Bob’s bed felt more invasive for you than for the cat. “Comfort meal?” Bob questioned looking up from Alpine. His eyebrows knitted together. “You know, a meal that makes you feel all nice and warm?” Bob hummed in response. Dinners didn’t exactly bring him comfort as a child. As a result, Bob didn’t exactly eat for comfort, but more for survival. “I don’t know, maybe, um, chicken noodle soup?”

“Chicken noodle soup,” you thought of the ingredients in the kitchen. “I can do that.” You turned off of the door frame and disappeared from Bob’s sight causing Alpine to follow suit. “Come on, Bob, I need company while I cook.” He scampered off of the bed nearly falling while following after.

He sat at the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen. The television buzzing had turned out to be a marathon of romcoms. He hadn’t expected that from you, but he wasn’t necessarily surprised. You moved calmly through the kitchen, cleaning and putting away things as you go. You moved with such surety that it comforted Bob. He hadn’t brought anything to the counter to accompany him and occupy his mind. The only thing occupying his mind, was you. “So, Bob, our itinerary for tomorrow,” Bob’s eyebrows knitted together again. “I don’t know if you knew this about me, but I am like a flower.” Delicate and beautiful? Bob thought. “If I don’t see the sun, I will wither away. So, I was thinking we could go for a walk and go sit out in the park? Early in the morning preferably.” You looked up as the pot came to a simmer. Bob’s eyebrows slowly unknitted and he eased into a smile. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds really nice.” You could see his shoulders ease. He would have gone anywhere with you.

Bob officially understood what a comfort meal was while sitting with you on the couch with a bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup. The rest of the team weren’t the best in the kitchen. With them constantly on the move, most things they made were meant to be on the go, something quick and easy preferably. “Do you always make dinner like this?” He asked, stretching his legs out on the couch. His chest felt warm, just like you had said. “I do. It’s a part of my routine, like a form of self care. Something homemade and warm.” Bob nodded in response. You stretched out your legs as you put your bowl on the end table. Your foot brushed against Bob’s outstretched legs. A shiver ran up Bob’s back. He worried what would happen even with his powers under control and both of you having a layer of clothing separating you two. He missed physical touch. Something must have crossed his face as he looked from your foot to your face. “I’m not afraid, Bobby.” You said lightly as your climbed off of the couch, taking your bowl with you to wash. If there was anyone in the world that he didn’t want to fear him, it was you. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest.

You appeared back into living room. Bob’s head stayed focused forward still dazed. You ruffled his hair while standing behind him on the couch. His brown locks were soft in your hands. “Have a good night, Bobby, if you need anything at all, let me know.” He looked up to you and nodded quickly. There were tears in his eyes as his Adam’s apple bobbed quickly in an effort for the tears to not fall. You smiled sweetly down to him before walking to your room. Bob sat there for another minute holding his breath till he heard your shower running. He blinked quickly and wiped away any remnants of tears. The warmth in his chest had boiled outwards to the rest of his body. Fear crossed his mind, that this could be one of his highs. He hadn’t ever felt this kind of warmth that wrapped around him. He climbed off of the couch, washed his dishes, and went to bed himself with Alpine curled up against his legs.

The next morning, Bob woke up to you opening his currents gently. He could smell breakfast cooking in the kitchen drifting through his bedroom door. He stirred awake, sitting up on his elbows in bed. It was only then that you realized he was not wearing a shirt. His chest was so light and toned. His hair was wild and he looked so peaceful. You lost just about every word you could have possibly said. He filled in the silence, “Did you sleep well?” He rubbed his eyes as he sat up. “I did. You didn’t need me last night, did you?” Need you? No. Wanted you? Absolutely. Bob though, but instead he opted to say, “No, I went to sleep not long after you.” He pulled a sweater over his head and climbed out of bed. “Come on, breakfast, walk, park.” You said as you lead him to the kitchen.

Bob was greeted by pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs just how he liked them. “How did you know?” He asked as he sat down with his plate. “I’m observant.” You shrugged, not looking up from your plate. He noticed that unlike his other housemates, you did not fuel yourself with a straight black coffee. “No coffee?” He asked, sipping his orange juice. “No, I try to.... stay away from caffeine. It, um, makes me anxious.” Once again, your eyes didn’t meet his. This routine, it all helped you, so you hoped it could help Bob too. You both ate your breakfast quietly before splitting up to get ready for the day.

You guided Bob down the street. He wasn’t used to this. He preferred to stay inside where he would have less interactions with others, less chances of inconveniencing others. He enjoyed the feeling of sunshine on his face. After making it to the park, you laid out a blanket on the ground. You had come prepared with books for you and Bob. Instead, Bob laid on his back with his face towards the sun. There was a light breeze moving his waves to tap against his face. His breathing had slowed and the warmth was back. It spread all over his body. He opened his eyes to see you watching him, your book being lost in your lap. “I love to see you like this.” You smiled at him. It was earnest and real, he could hear it in your voice. There was a soft glow on your skin. He wondered if you felt the same warmth all over. You laid down next to him. Your pinkies brushed together, which lead you to link your pinky with his. A testament to your words last night. You weren’t afraid of him and he could tell. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him.

On the walk back home, you held onto Bob’s hand. You initially grabbed it so loosely, in case he wanted to pull away. Bob, who was in such desperate need for more and more of your touch, grabbed back with much more ferocity. The walk back was silent, but so much had been said. You could most certainly check off that last box on your to do list and you hoped that you could keep checking it off for days to come, never as an inconvenience, but as a privilege.

[chilumi-shipper]

Crowned Flowers

Kamisato Ayato x Fem!Reader (Royal AU)

Summary: He's the Crowned Prince and you're just a commoner. You love each other but you had to keep your relationship a secret. Knowing it was the best to leave him alone and not make his life harder, you avoided him and no longer visited the castle. After years of pining for his first and only love, he is met with the sight of a little boy identical to him.

Warning: Slight Smut nothing intense

Tags: Slight Angst to Fluff, Royalty x Commoner

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The young prince Ayato wasn't aware that such a cheap flower could bring about such beauty, yet a crown made of those cheap flowers laid on the head of a maiden he found strikingly admirable, he couldn't keep his eyes off you.

You were trying to catch the attention of other people around you, offering them a look of your basket of flowers, perhaps hoping that the flowers would be of interest to some people, and thus buy it off you.

"Sir..." The blue haired prince was shaken out of his trances, realizing that you had made your way over to him. You smiled at him with all the joy in your possibly pure heart. "Would you like to buy a flower? They're really pretty."

You didn't recognize him, probably because of his thick robe, covering the unmistakable blue hue of the hair of the royal family.

"Ahhh- Umm..." Ayato patted himself, looking for some mora to give you, but all his expenses are handled by his retainers, so he doesn't have anything on him. "I-I apologize, I don't seem to have any-"

You held up a flower for him still, "That's okay! I want you to take one for free! My mama said that giving something nice to others brightens up their day, and you can make good friends!"

He took the flowers in his hands, and never has the young prince felt so grateful for something so small.

Nobody knows why King Ayato's favorite flower is a cheap, white petaled flower that can be seen all over the kingdom. Surely someone of his status would love a rare, exotic flower only someone as rich as him could gaze upon.

But the sight of the beautiful flower reminded him of the love he unfortunately couldn't keep in his arms. The love that remained embedded in his being, never letting him forget the face that brought upon color in his world, the hands that cradles his face and caress his cheeks ever so softly, the body that he forever wants to hold close to his own, though he probably could never again.

The crowned king Ayato could only reminisce about the love of his life.

"The young prince is missing again!" Yelled one of his guards, his voice laced with worry, less for the prince and more for himself if he doesn't bring the prince back to the palace immediately.

The panicked guard yelling for help at the other guards drew a little giggle from you, making you cover your mouth to avoid making too much noise. You were hiding behind the tall fence of the local orphanage, Ayato next to you sitting close, trying not to laugh as well.

"Looks like we got some time for ourselves." He whispered, his face awfully close to yours. You smiled brightly, as you usually do, cuddling up to him.

"Your parents might kill you..." You rest your head on his shoulder, prompting him to wrap an arm around you. You sighed in contentment, hearing the fading frantic footsteps of the guards.

"I don't think I mind having this as my final moment before my parents kill me." You playfully slapped him on the chest due to his statement.

Ayato then had a thought, "Maybe... they wouldn't be disapproving of our relationship like we thought." He tightened his hold of you. ''Perhaps, we can finally-"

"It's unheard of, couples like us." You spoke sadly, sighing after. "It's only in those teenage fanfiction books does the commoner get the prince."

Ayato didn't want to admit that you were right, there was a low chance that his parents would allow him to marry a commoner, much less would the royal court.

He chose to end the topic with a joke. "Well then, I hope the writer of this story knows the decorations I want for our wedding." He basked in the smile that your lips formed.

As the king of his kingdom, he was expected to produce an heir to the throne within the first five years of his reign, yet he had not stuck to this expectation, he had not even chosen a bride.

It feels as though his heart is tied to only one, and no other lady could capture him in a loving blanket of eternal bliss in which you caged him in.

And no other could satisfy the hunger that you satiated during your first (and last) night together.

"I still wish to see you after this..." He says in a breathless moan, his hand landing on your hips as you grind yourself closer to him. "Archons, my queen..." He hisses, shutting his eyes at your moves above him sending him to absolute euphoria.

Your fingers poked at his cheek before your palm made contact, caressing it to opt him to open his eyes. You smile softly at him, "You have a duty..."

In the dim light of the moon illuminating from the windows of his room, you looked absolutely radiant, completely naked for him to devour with his eyes. His hips instinctively jerked up at the sight, making you whimper at the sudden sensation.

"I have a duty to the woman I love..." His own hand reach for your face, cupping your cheek. "I fucking love you..."

He had never felt such raw and intense emotions, but being bare and romantic with you within the warmth of his abode, showered by the cascading light of the moon truly made him love you even more.

You lean into his touch, closing your eyes as you start to move on his lap, letting him caress your insides. "I love you, I love you too..." You whispered, letting it mix with the moans that leaves your mouth.

After your intense, romantic, sweet love-making, you left his life with one last kiss to remember him by.

He's never seen you since then.

Sometimes he even thinks that you were just a figment of his imagination, his version of perfection within a girl that he would hopelessly fall in love with for the rest of his life.

But, as he stares at the scene in front of him...

"Flowers! Fresh flowers here! So pretty, it'll make you fall in love!"

...that young boy, selling white flowers in a somewhat familiar, worn-out basket, hair covered with a cloak, but his eyes... that unmistakable tint of purple that only one member of the royal family has.

His heart then drops, as the door of the house behind the little boy opens, revealing... you.

You... 're so beautiful...

A version of perfection within a girl that he would hopelessly fall in love with for the rest of his life.

"Your Majesty, the royal guards are done with their business here, we may go if you would allow us." A guard stood beside him, unbeknownst to the conflicting feeling swirling within the king.

"Yes, go..." Ayato refuses to take his eyes off the scene in front of him.

"And you, your Majest-" The guard could not finish his question before Ayato was walking up to the boy holding the basket.

"Sir with the crown! You want flowers, right?" As their gazes meet, the purple-eyed boy pointed at him and shouted excitedly.

Ayato chuckled, taking out a pouch of mora from his suit and kneeling down to the boys level. "Would this suffice for one lovely flower?"

"Wow! That's for a whole basket!"

"You can have it, I've been thought that giving something nice to others brightens up their day, and you can make good friends."

"My mommy says that!" As the boy exclaims, a figure walks up behind him, opting Ayato to look up.

"I know she does..." Though he is filled with conflicting emotions, he still smiles at you. "My queen says that."

"Is mommy your queen, Mr. Crown?"

Your eyes lock onto his, your gaze softening. "King Ayato... I'm sorry for my child..." His eyes seem to darken as you refer to your son as only yours.

Ayato gently places a hand on the little boys hood, lifting it off a little to reveal the same shade of blue hair as his. "Hmm... a very handsome young prince..."

The boy silently tugs at your skirt. "We're secretly royalty, mommy." He giggles, making his father smile.

"Yes, nobody would go against a king for declaring his beloved as a royal, to be by his side. " Ayato smiles proudly.

For the longest time in his life, he had always wanted to just hold you without worrying about the eyes of the public, and as he shamelessly holds out a hand to cup your cheek, he has fulfilled one of his many wishes.

"You can run from a crowned prince, but not a king, my queen." He pulls you in for a kiss, and despite to nosy eyes of your neighbors, you let him.

And you don't have to run away again.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The little boy is unnamed, cuz I suck with names, so comment what you would name your little love child with Ayato!

Also, I found this in my drafts, it was like from a year ago and I read it and I can't believe it's so... beautifully written?? (not tutting my own horn, I was just truly impressed that I could come up with this, I mean, you guys read my smuts >:)) Anywayyy, hope you like it!

[colonelarr0w]

oh god, i wanna feel again

pairing - joel miller x !female! reader

synopsis - i feel like y'all already know. but then again, no you don't.

warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, canon TLOU violence, descriptions of depression, main character death, suicide

please do not read if suicide or mentions of the topic will trigger you. your mental health matters more than a piece of fanfiction.

word count - 0.9k

it had been silent for weeks now.

the miller home, that was what was silent.

the big wooden house just on the corner of the street that connected the residences to the main parts of jackson. the house with the hand-painted mailbox with the inking of the word 'miller' messily drawn into its side.

a house that you couldn't bring yourself to look at. every time you found yourself walking that block, you made a detour. every time. without fail. you couldn't even bring yourself to tip your head in its direction.

you didn't want to see the wisps of what could've been. the life that you could have had, the love that you could have held onto if you had been faster. if you had been stronger. if you had been there like you said that you always would be.

but you were a liar.

"m'here for you," you had said, leaning into the flannel that was wrapped delicately around the tops of your shoulders. "even if y'don't want me t'be."

joel turned back to you, seeing the genuine truth glinting in your eyes like the stars that you were both occupied with watching. your lips curved into a smile when his gaze met yours - just as soft and loving as the millions of times that you'd smiled at him before.

he'd leaned closer to you, calloused hands cradling either side of your face like you were the one things his hands were made to hold. you nuzzled the warmth that radiated up from his skin, smiling as he pressed a kiss to your forhead. his lips lingered, his breath fanned out over your skin, and he'd muttered a quiet, "love you" against your skin.

you couldn't look ellie in the eyes either. you didn't want to see the sadness in her eyes, you didn't want to see the slump of her shoulders, you didn't want to be reminded of what she had lost that day.

because you didn't just lose the love of your life. she'd lost her dad that day. and it was your fault ... it had always been your fault.

you didn't even try. you just laid there underneath nora's legs, her knees pressing into the center of your spine, keeping you pinned down against the ground. you had screamed, sure, but what good would your voice do in the face of a vengeful daughter?

nothing. that was the answer.

it wouldn't do jackshit.

abby still hit the club against the side of his head. still killed him. it didn't matter to her that you had screamed. that you had begged. that you had cried and pleaded and whimpered and shouted. it didn't fucking matter.

joel's blank eyes had stared at you, the sight of them forever engrained into your memory. his bloodied body laid in front of you, his fingers already pale like he had been dead for weeks. his eyes were puffy, blood clung to his skin, his chest was still.

as much as you didn't want to believe it, he was dead.

and you'd been right there, the entire time.

your mind hadn't shut up since then. whispers in the shadows that followed you, echoes of his pain, echoes of your pain. you heard your own voice every night when your head hit the pillow. you heard him gurgling, choking on his own blood. you heard the impact of metal on skin.

it was like a cycle. never-ending. always continuing right from the beginning once it was finished.

you just wanted it to stop.

guilt followed you like a plague. it clung to your skin like a leech, sucking away whatever humanity still remained in your hollowed-out bones. it didn't leave you alone, didn't let you rest. always following, always there.

the gun looked friendly one night. it wasn't yours, it was his. a polished piece of metal that he'd cleaned a night or two before taking that patrol with dina.

you reached for it, not really thinking. you turned it over, seeing his initals that he'd carved into the handle. beside it was a tiny heart, that had been your little addition.

"to remind you of little ol' me," you'd told him lovingly. he'd kissed you after that.

dragging your feet, you found yourself on the porch of the wooden house on the corner. the first time in ... what? two weeks? three? four? hell, you didn't know.

the inside was the same as the day that he left. it was still cozy, still warm, still the remanants of a home. everything was right where he had left it last, clean and organized.

you exhale slowly, standing in the center of the living room. slowly you turn in a circle, taking in the surroundings that seemed to mock you. they remind you of what you could have had, of the domesticity that you had been chasing for years.

of the love that had slipped through your fingers like sand.

the muzzle presses cold against your temple. it makes you shiver.

your finger presses against the trigger, caressing it like the cheek of the lover that you had lost.

one...

two...

bang.

the gun hits the floor before you do. blood sprays the wall behind you, some of it paints the floor beneath you. the breath that leaves you is quick, fleeting.

your hand outstretches, your mind goes blank, and your world ends.

but it didn't matter.

you had been dead for a long time anyway.

you had died in that room with him. the only difference was that only one of you had stopped breathing.

things were quiet now.

the miller house was quiet.

fin.

[herdarkestnightelegance]

Bedhead

Pairing: Astarion/ g/n unnamed You

Tags: the fluffiest of fluff

Length: 1k words

Summary: You woke up in Astarion‘s tent for the first time.

A/N: I'm really starting to enjoy this whole Fanfiction writing thing! Thank you all for all the love on my last fanfic Magpie Stash 🥹 👉👈

Once again I have to thank @nyx-knox for the thoughtful beta-reading, helping me to smooth out the bumps in the story ✨

Shout out to @onlyancunin. You know why ❤️

::::::::::::::::::

A single strip of sunlight falls directly onto your face, waking you gently. You don’t stir but slowly, you open your eyes. For a moment you’re disoriented. This isn’t your tent, is it? Slowly you look around. No, it’s not. And then you remember. It’s Astarion’s. And now that your senses catch up you feel him next to you, his arm laid sleepily across your stomach. You blink almost in disbelief at the feeling of him still beside you.

This is new. Yes, the two of you have spent many hours together, sneaking away for moments of passion both here and in your tent, out in nature, in a couple of caves and a temple even. But usually you went your separate ways afterwards. Occasionally, you had fallen asleep next to each other but you usually woke to find him gone or already awake and half-dressed, like that first morning after the Tiefling Party. Never had you woken up to feel him still slumbering beside you before. In his tent no less.

But then you remember. Arms pulling you closer as you were about to disentangle from him, a kiss on the delicate skin below your ear and a single whispered word. “Stay?” 

So you stayed.

You turn your head to look at Astarion. But to say what you see is not what you expected would be an understatement. 

Unable to stop it, the corners of your lips curl up in an adoring grin. Often have you seen Astarion meditate on this journey. Usually lying on his back, his head resting on a pillow, hair immaculate, the ruffles on his shirt laid out perfectly, face relaxed and his fingers doing that dainty fingertips-touching-thing you’ve come to adore.

But this was not that.

Beneath a mess of tangled sheets, Astarion is lying on his stomach, one leg stretched away from him and the other at a weird but apparently comfortable angle. One arm draped over you, the other one tucked under his head, barely resting on the edge of his pillow, which has somehow wrapped itself halfway around his head. He looks completely disheveled and … utterly adorable.

It’s the light chuckle you can’t suppress that seems to wake your lover. He opens his eyes groggily, their crimson color practically glowing in the strip of morning light that had also awoken you.

In the few moments before he fully wakes from his rather unusual meditation, you see it clearly on his face: a flicker of a pleasant surprise to find you still beside him. Followed by confusion. Then a moment of vulnerability. And finally you see his trademark cocky smile slipping onto his face.

 “You’re up early, darling.“ he says in a casual yet sleepy tone. “I thought I’d all but worn you out last night.”

“Good morning to you too.“ you answer back, the smirk lingering on your face. Slowly, he pulls his arm off you and turns onto his back. His slender body stretches deliciously, and you roll onto your side to face him, unable to take your eyes off all of his beautifully exposed pale skin. When he eventually sits up, you can’t help but let out a giggle.

“What?”, he asks, looking down at you.

“I’m sorry - it’s just …” You reach out your hand towards that mop of stunning white curls that look like an exploded feather-pillow, but you pause, waiting the slightest of moments before actually touching him. You realize you’ve never really… touched his hair. Sure, you had weaved your fingers into it, tugged at it in moments of passion, but … fixing these beautiful curls seems almost too … familiar? You can’t help but worry it’ll bother him. “May I?” you ask cautiously.  

Astarion leans his head towards your hand ever-so-slightly, signalling you permission to touch his hair. “I’ve just never seen you like this, that’s all.” His curls are incredibly soft, even in their disheveled state. Has anyone ever seen him like this, you wonder.

“Like what?” he asks in a relaxed tone but you detect the slightest hint of insecurity. Inspecting his beautiful face for a moment longer, you notice the red skin and creases the pillow has left around his cheekbone and the drop of dried blood in the left corner of his mouth from when he drank from you.

“… Tousled,” you finally answer, still unsure if the word captures how endearing he looks to you in this state.

He huffs a laugh. “Well, my dear, you too are looking rather unkempt.” he says as he plucks a tiny, honest-to-god pillow-feather from the tangled mess on your own head. The two of you look at each other - all messy hair, dried blood, squished faces and sticky skin. 

You wonder what the pale Elf is thinking, what he is searching for while he is studying your eyes so intently. Because all you feel in this moment is fondness. Fondness for him, for waking up together … for whatever it is that exists between the two of you. And you think he maybe feels  it, too. Because, to your delight, a smile spreads on his indented face, his fangs momentarily glinting in the morning light before the both of you let out a laugh. He is so beautiful to you in that moment. And your heart swells in a way it has not done before, to the point of aching within the confines of your chest.

It’s Astarion who leans in first to kiss you then, running his fingers over the bird’s nest that is your hair. “I do think you look quite delicious like this, you know?” he whispers against your lips before pushing you down, pinning you back onto the bedroll as his weight comfortably settles onto you. You feel him smile into your kiss and you know it’s sincere. “So let’s see if we can mess up this hair of yours a bit more, shall we?”

[shedontsmelltoogooddarious]

-Master list-

Hello I'm Potato, and I write slasher fics primarily involving fluff and some edgier themes. I write mostly for John Ryder from The Hitcher, Asa Emory and recently Chromeskull in a self indulgent OC x Cannon fic.

A list of all of my current fics/series so they're easier to find. My fics here are all slasher fics, so be warned of gore, blood and violence.

Blood and Aphsalt (The Hitcher 1986)

Blood and Aphsalt drabble

Let me sleep kid

First kill

Stubborn feeder

Pig gutting

Fluff drabble

Short drabble

The lesson

Friendship bracelet

John angst

Perfect aim

The Hitcher 2007 (fic)

Just like me

Asa's little bug (The Collector/Collection)

Asa's little bug

His larva

Soft fluff drabble

Musings/Drabble

Pushing the limits

Night troubles

Growing pains

Making new friends

Chrome-noir/Chrome-skullxBlack (Laid to Rest)

Mister Black (Reference/Chromeskull's husband in my current fics.)

Chromeskull x OC (smut)

Little black dress

First meeting

Chromeskull x Black (smut)

Important deal

Jesse gets pegged (smut)

Flint's adventures in Ambrose! (House of wax)

First adventure

Force feeding Flint

[mx-pastelwriting]

Kinktober Day 7: Phone Sex

HANNIBAL LECTER X GN! READER

SUMMARY: Alone in his office at night he calls you wanting to only hear one thing. WARNINGS/TAGS: Established Relationships, Smut, Phone Sex

Kinktober Masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

The low buzz of your phone vibrated against the sheets, laid in your bed once, bathing in the relaxing silence of the late night. Now looking over to the disturbance, reading the familiar name "Hannibal.".

Answering, putting the phone against your ear, hearing only silence, then the sounds of a belt being undone. Knowing what Hannibal wanted, you sunk into the bed, resting the phone close to your ear.

Imagining as if it were Hannibal himself pulling your bottom clothing off and throwing them onto the floor. Next, hearing the sound of his leather office chair stretching as he leaned back, cock in hand.

This night being one of many of Hannibal's late-night calls, wanting only to hear you. Leaving no instructions, just the want to hear your call after his existence.

Wasting no more of his time, touching yourself to the thought of Hannibal wanting you, needing no more than to hear your choked moans. Still never getting used to the emptiness of not having his cock in you, making do with memories of past nights you both shared in each other's arms. Remembering the feeling of his cock and balls slamming into you as your moans sang to his unmerciful greed.

Spilling out all the curses and calls, him rewarding you with the sound of his returning moans, followed by the lubed noise of his cock being stroked.

Starting off slow, as you tried to match it, he sped up the louder you moaned. Quickly, the call turned foggy, almost forgetting you weren't in the safety of his house, shielded from disturbing any neighbors.

Mouth watering at the thought of sharing another night in Hannibal's office, pushing you over the edge of his desk. Moans turning into whines, sending Hannibal's into curses. Both of you diving off the edge together, cumming in the names of each other, sending the night into bliss, with Hannibal's heavy breaths singing into the phone, sending you to relax once again.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI.

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

Kinktober Taglist: @g0dwat3r @littlebitchsposts @bimbo-bunni @urlocalfanficwriter @tearsc3nt @sophieissleepy @reidsbookcase @writtenbyhollywood @lokis-right-femur @callsignwidow @iloveslasher @akneld @spacebananabud @m-281 @hoffmanfan13 @wh0re4-alexademi @supergingerlocks @chocolqtelle @taylorthetable @lightupsketchersperson @hope69world @hotchners-wifey @abyssaloverlord @raajali3 @crustyowos @fly-on-the-wall @nyx2021 @www-interludeshadow-com @carolb111 @thays0 @theescorpiolovechile @0banes0 @bibella8swan @madeleinerg @lokiiified @ramnzy @asmalls0723 @wonderlandofsilence @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @ch1hvro @lia1512

[rdmasevi]

Yours in the Shadows

Title: Yours in the Shadows: a Twilight fanfiction

Pairing: Edward Cullen x Reader Fem

Genre: Angst | Romance | Drama

Warnings: Emotional angst and heartbreak, Jealousy and romantic rivalry.

Summary: After leaving Bella in Forks, Edward Cullen falls into despair—until he meets you.

Forks hadn’t changed much.

Rain still painted the windows like brushstrokes, soft and relentless. The trees stood like sentinels—tall, unmoving, and watching. The clouds were thick overhead, casting a cool, gray light over the Cullen house as it stirred with quiet life once again.

Edward stood beside you at the threshold. His hand gently brushed yours, fingers cold but familiar. Even now, you could feel the weight of hesitation in him—like he expected this to collapse, to fade. But it didn’t. Not with you.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his golden eyes fixed on the house.

“I am,” you said softly, lacing your fingers through his. “Are you?”

He turned to look at you, and that unreadable emotion flickered behind his gaze—the kind only he could hold. Love, pain, awe, guilt. He’d told you everything about Bella, about the torment of leaving her and the emptiness that followed… until he found you. Your scent didn’t torment him. You were calm to his storm. And somehow, he could be close. He could touch you without fearing he’d lose control.

You had never tasted like a mistake.

——

The rest of the Cullens welcomed you with wary warmth—especially Alice, who had seen you coming long before Edward had. She grinned when she saw you.

“You’re the reason he stopped brooding like a Brontë character,” she teased, wrapping you in a light hug. “Thank God.”

Even Rosalie nodded her approval—grudgingly, but that was something. Esme adored you instantly. Carlisle was curious, fascinated, but kind. And Emmett… well, Emmett kept making “finally got laid” jokes that made Edward scowl and you blush.

Forks High School, however, wasn’t as welcoming.

Word traveled fast.

The Cullens were back.

And Edward wasn’t alone.

——

Bella saw you before you saw her.

You were walking down the hallway with Edward—his hand low on your back, guiding you with gentle familiarity. You laughed at something he said, and he smiled, soft and small.

Bella froze. Her breath caught like a knot in her throat.

He wasn’t supposed to smile like that. Not after everything.

And certainly not at someone else.

——

It didn’t take long for her to confront him. Or you.

First, it was him. Cornered in the hallway between classes, her eyes pleading and raw.

“You left,” she whispered. “You said it was because I wasn’t good for you.”

Edward stood still, torn between memories and reality. “I did,” he said. “Because I thought keeping you safe meant staying away.”

She glanced at you, further down the hall, waiting for him. “But not her?”

“She doesn’t… affect me. Not like you did.”

Bella blinked. That hurt more than she thought it would. “So you can touch her.”

“Yes,” Edward said, unapologetic. “I can love her without fearing I’ll hurt her. She’s not in danger with me.”

Bella’s voice broke. “And I was?”

His eyes softened, regret flickering. “Always.”

——

Later, it was you.

She found you in the school library. Quiet. Reading. Alone.

Bella hesitated, then sat across from you without asking.

“You know he loved me, right?” she said without preamble.

You looked up slowly. Calmly.

“I know,” you said. “He told me everything.”

“Then why are you here?” she demanded, voice brittle. “Why did you come back with him?”

You closed the book.

“Because he loves me now,” you said evenly. “Because he chose me.”

Bella’s eyes filled with tears, but you didn’t waver. You weren’t cruel—you understood her pain. But Edward wasn’t a prize to be won. He was a person who made a choice.

And he chose you.

——

That night, Edward found you on the edge of the forest behind the house, staring into the mist.

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded, curling into his side as he pulled you close.

“She’s hurting,” you said quietly.

“I know,” he murmured against your hair. “I hate that I caused that.”

“You did what you had to.”

He kissed your forehead—something he never could’ve done before. Something he never could do with Bella.

“But I’m here now,” he said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

You turned your head, your eyes meeting his. “Promise?”

“I swear,” Edward whispered, and this time, when he kissed you fully, deeply—he didn’t hold back.

Because for the first time in his long existence, he didn’t have to.

My main masterlist

[tothefiniteyou]

I forgot 💀

Anyways, Mikey's chapter. I've been updating this daily but the last chapter will more than likely take me longer for the simple fact it's not pure angst. There's more plotting to be done

[lakesparkles]

I finally finished the first chapter - I'm calling it prologue - of my college AU Thanos Team fanfiction.

For now, I'll post it here under the cut:

Prologue

.

.

.

Gyeong-su is sure he can change Nam-gyu's life

—

(NOTE: the first thing I want to do is apologize about Nam-gyu because he’s an asshole in this chapter)

 The room was still dark and Nam-gyu wasn't sure why he’d woken up. He mumbled softly, trying to go back to sleep and failing... For some reason. His mind was too groggy to think of anything in that situation.

 Only after a few seconds did he realize his cell phone was ringing, the music irritating his hearing and immediately stressing him out.

 "What is it!?" He complained in a slurred voice, as if the device could answer him. At the same time, he slammed his hand against the cabinet next to his bed, where he remembered leaving his cell phone charging. He needed to wait for his eyes to get used to the light so he could read the name on the screen:

 "Mom," was all it said.

 So he ignored it, suddenly more alert. Why would she even...?

 No. He wouldn't even think about it. It was way too early for that.

 When the phone went silent again, Nam-gyu closed his eyes and rolled over in bed, covering his head so he could fall asleep faster. Fuck it, he still had a few hours of sleep left, he wasn't going to lose them because of something like that.

 Or, apparently, he was wrong.

 Not even three minutes had passed when his ears picked up another noise. This time, coming from the bedroom door. Three quick knocks and then:

 "Nam-gyu. Nam-gyu? Can I come in? I'm going in, okay?"

 No sooner said than done, his door was opened completely. Nam-gyu growled, removing the blanket and sitting on the bed:

"What the hell... What time is it?" He asked, still reluctant and barely able to open his eyes due to the sudden light.

 "Uh... 5:15 am?" Gyeong-su asked more than answered, walking towards his bed.

Without saying a word, Nam-gyu laid down for the second time. But of course his friend didn't accept that, pulling his arm and continuing: 

 "No, no way! You agreed to this yesterday!"

 "I didn't-"

 "Of course you did! It was last night, man! There's no way you don't remember, get up!"

 "Today's Sunday!"

 "That's exactly why!"

 "Fuck you!"

That didn't work and, when he realized, Gyeong-su had already pulled him out of bed and placed him standing next to himself. The little shit was now smiling proudly, his hands resting on his waist:

 "I programmed an entire map for our route today. You'll like it, believe me! Did you know there's a forest behind that pharmacy? The one right behind the-"

 Nam-gyu got tired of hearing it, going straight out of the room. At least this time, Gyeong-su got the message and shut up, just following him down the narrow hallway. It was the least he could do, considering he was dragging Nam-gyu for a "morning walk" (he had called it that, not Nam-gyu).

 He walked straight to the bathroom, pausing at the door for just a second. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a movement in front of him: it was almost imperceptible, but he was sure it was Se-mi entering her own room, slamming the door shut. This irritated him, to say the least. Nam-gyu took a step back, getting closer to his friend:

 "Why did this bitch come to live here if she doesn't even have an ounce of manners?"

 "Hey, it's not nice to call-"

 "Shut up. Have you even talked to her? Does she ever leave her room?"

 "I thought you'd think that was a good thing," Gyeong-su shrugged, "so you don't have to look at her face."

 "Clever," Nam-gyu gave a rare compliment, closing the door behind him. As he went to the bathroom and returned to his room to change, he kept thinking about Se-mi.

 He and Gyeong-su had rented the apartment two months ago, which meant that neither of them really got used to it yet. Nam-gyu had known the other for years, but he wouldn't describe him as a close friend. It just so happened that they both needed to share a rent, and even then, they realized that their money wouldn't be enough anyway.

 In order to avoid having to move into a tiny, one-room place, they sacrificed one of the bedrooms in their current apartment and tried their luck. He would never imagine that a woman would offer to split the cost of the bills, but Se-mi was apparently desperate.

 Maybe. Nam-gyu knew very little about her.

 They went to the same university, were close in age, and that was where his knowledge about the woman ended. Se-mi didn't talk much, staying locked in her room during the rare moments she was home. It didn't take a genius to guess that this would never work out. He was surprised she hadn't given up since the beginning of the two weeks she'd been there.

 Yeah.

 Nam-gyu shook his head to clear his thoughts. He didn't even care that much about the bitch in the first place. She was a total jerk, that's what.

 So he focused on the closet in front of him, choosing a random black T-shirt and pulling it over his head. Once he was dressed, he fixed his hair with his hands and tucked a few strands behind his ears.

 Then he crossed the hallway for good, heading for the kitchen. As if on autopilot, he opened the door of the fridge and picked up a bottle of whiskey. His throat was dry, but before he could unscrew the cap, the bottle was taken from his hands.

 "Hey!" He exclaimed.

 "No, no, no!' Gyeong-su held it up high so he couldn't reach it, even though the other was struggling beside him. He hadn't even noticed him approaching. "You made me promise not to let you drink it for breakfast!"

 "I never said that!"

 "Yes, you did. Nam-gyu, it was last night!"

 "If I don't remember, it's clearly not what I really wanted."

 "You were in a really bad state, man. Cold sweat and everything. You looked me in the eyes and said, 'I can't live like this anymore, Gyeong-su, you need to change my life,' and that's what we're going to start doing from today!" He told everything with dramatic gestures, which indicated that that wasn't really what had truly happened.

 For some reason unknown even to him, Nam-gyu gave up.

"I promise" Gyeong-su ran after him after putting away the whiskey and grabbing a bottle of water in its place. "I will change your life!"

For both their sakes, Nam-gyu kept his opinion to himself.

---

 "Oh wait, man, I forgot my watch!"

 "Can't you just go without it?" As soon as Nam-gyu finished his sentence, Gyeong-su had already run into the apartment once again.

 They hadn't even been out for 30 seconds.

 With a sigh, he leaned against the wall, taking advantage of the free time to light a cigarette and place it between his lips. His vision was a little blurry as he looked through the small window on the other side of the hallway. It was a simple view, just a tree branch moving with the wind. Maybe it was slightly colder outside.

 Whatever. His head hurt, it felt like it was about to explode.

 Had he really talked about all that with Gyeong-su last night?

 He tried his best to clear his memories, but all he remembered was the two of them sitting on the couch. It didn't seem like a serious conversation, his mouth even hurt from laughing so much at that time. Was Se-mi there? Somehow, she was there. Maybe to tell them to shut up. Or... Did she stay longer? Did she talk to both of them? No, it couldn't be. Se-mi had never acted like that before.

 He was probably making a funny face as he tried to remember. When he came back to reality, he realized that someone was staring at him.

 "What is it?" Nam-gyu asked, raising his chin, trying to look intimidating even though he wasn't very successful.

 The boy in front of him straightened his posture as if he’d been startled.

He never saw him there before. He was short and wore a navy blue sweater. If that wasn't enough, he had a kind of pathetic look, as if he was about to faint.

 Nam-gyu just took a drag on his cigarette, pretending to ignore him.

 "Eh..." The other man spoke in a low voice, however, after a few seconds. "Do you know where apartment 75 is?"

 "No," Nam-gyu replied with a small smile.

 "Do you live here? In the building, I mean. It's just that I'm new and I forgot..."

 "Did you forget where your own apartment is? Seriously?"

 "I've never been here in person, this is the first day I've..."

 With each passing second, Nam-gyu found it more amusing, without even trying to hide it. As soon as he pushed himself off the wall, he pointed to the number on the door right next to him: 75.

 "Have you thought about taking a vision test? " He asked the boy, still in a good mood.

 The other didn't share the same feeling, mumbling an apology under his breath and unlocking the apartment to go in. Why had he even apologized to him?

 Weird guy.

 He'd been distracted by that for so long that only then did he notice how Gyeong-su hadn't come back yet. Nam-gyu peeked inside his own dark apartment, part of him barely able to resist the urge to just run away and come back there only at night, when his friend already forgot all that nonsense.

 He regretted not having followed through with the plan as soon as Gyeong-su appeared in his sight, straightening the watch on his wrist and letting out an exclamation:

 "Hey, no, no!" He wasted no time in trying to take the cigarette from Nam-gyu's hand. "That counts too, you made me promise not to let you smoke in the morning as well!"

 Nam-gyu elbowed him lightly, making it clear how he didn't care. So much so that he soon changed the subject:

 "What took you so long? Were you chatting with the bitch?"

 Gyeong-su gave him a reprimanding look as soon as the two began walking down the hallway. With that alone, Nam-gyu knew he’d hit the nail on the head.

 "She’d just woken up," Gyeong-su admitted. "She wanted to know how the TV remote worked, can you believe it?"

 "So she talks to you," Nam-gyu raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised and a little betrayed. Gyeong-su didn't say a word, just sighed. The two reached the top of the stairs at the end of the hallway, Nam-gyu taking the lead to go down two steps at a time. Now that he wasn't facing the other, it was easier to ignore the discomfort and finally ask:

 "I talked to her yesterday too, didn't I?"

 "You really don't remember anything?" Gyeong-su followed closely behind him, dragging his entire arm along the railing.

 "I remember some things," Nam-guy raised his chin, half telling the truth, half lying. "We laughed for a long time."

 "Yeah! Because of you, man!"

 "Oh yeah..?"

 The two finished the two flights of stairs, arriving at the first floor. Gyeong-su was distracted for a few seconds, checking if there was any new mail for their apartment and realizing that the mailbox was empty. Shrugging, he walked back to Nam-gyu's side so they could leave the building. "You told me a lot of things! Like that time a guy at the club almost got you fired because he mistook you for someone else."

 "I told Se-mi that!?" This time, he didn't even think to hide his shock. Gyeong-su found it all very funny. He put his hand in front of his mouth to laugh lightly.

 Wait.

 "You're making it all up! That's it, isn't it?" Nam-gyu started to get suspicious, hating how he felt slightly embarrassed now.

 "Of course not! All of this happened for real, you can ask Se-mi."

 Then Nam-gyu realized it was better to concentrate on his cigarette, walking quickly and straightening his hair once more. The actual best thing would be to stop thinking about it. Either way, he knew he wouldn't be able to remember everything. So who cared?

 He looked around, trying to distract himself. There were only trees, buildings and houses, nothing too impressive. The wind blew hard against the branches. It wasn't necessarily cold, but he was starting to regret not having put on a coat. Maybe he should go back and get one, it wasn't like he was that far from the apartment. And he always felt more comfortable when he wore long coats, in the first place. Not that he has any insecurities about his arms, of course. And he would never feel comfortable having a conversation like that with someone he barely knew, especially with... Her.

 God, he was really bad at that.

 Why couldn't he stop thinking about that bitch?

 He let out a loud groan, making Gyeong-su jump in fright:

 "What the fuck are we doing out here!?" He spoke louder than he should've, letting out all the frustrations he was feeling since he woke up.

 Gyeong-su stared at him at first, with his eyebrows raised and his eyes slightly wide. He received that same look countless times before, and Nam-gyu didn't appreciate it. He knew it was his friend's silent way of saying he was worried about him. As if Nam-gyu were just a lost puppy.

 "I already told you," Gyeong-su began, in that slow and serious tone, speaking as if Nam-gyu was too dumb to understand simple sentences. "You told us some stories and then out of nowhere you complained about how shitty your life is."

 "I didn't do that."

 "Nam-gyu! Same thing again? You did! You spent like two minutes straight just talking about how the lowest point was having to share an apartment with people like us. We were pissed! You belittled my work-"

 "Rightly so. What work?" Nam-gyu rolled his eyes.

 "Hey! And Se-mi too, especially her. You said that she only didn't have a decent life because she was a disgusting prostitute who wasn't even good enough to get clients to rent a small studio apartment."

 "Okay, I believe that part."

 Gyeong-su rolled his eyes, but smiled slightly:

 "Why are you like that with her? Only with her? Did she do something to you?"

 "Yes," no.

 "What?"

Nam-gyu didn't feel like answering, so he didn't.

---

Nam-gyu had no idea what he was expecting. He felt like an idiot once he realized that part of him almost wished Gyeong-su was right. That they would leave the apartment, walk around and something would suddenly change. He woke up with that weird weight on his chest, and that made it hard to concentrate on anything else. His head was also throbbing and he would occasionally sip from the bottle of water that Gyeong-su carried in the side pocket of his backpack. Both of those things, however, could easily be explained by the hangover. He was more used to waking up like that than not, that almost becoming his usual.

 But the weird feeling on his chest? That was rarer. Or at least it used to be. Until he moved to this apartment. However, once again, he was starting to get used to it.

 Shit. He shook his head and looked up. Then at Gyeong-su.

 "Look, look!" His friend skipped ahead of him and pointed down the ravine they were walking on at that moment. "You can see our building from here!'

  "Wow." Nam-gyu said sarcastically.

 Gyeong-su lowered his head, still smiling a little:

 "Can you at least pretend to be having a little fun? I'm feeling a little bad now."

 Nam-gyu opened his mouth, ready to give any answer that would make him shut up again. Why he didn't, was a mystery even to him. For a second, he sighed softly. Maybe it was because of the isolated environment, far from anyone else who could hear him. Maybe it was because, besides Gyeong-su, he had no one else to comment on that matter.

All he knew was that the words that came out of his mouth were:

 "My mother called me this morning."

 Gyeong-su's entire posture changed. He lowered his shoulders, becoming more serious despite grunting an "uhhhh", waving one of his hands in the air.

 As Nam-gyu already said, he and Gyeong-su had never been very close. They barely knew about each other's personal tastes or how they lived before that shared house. All Nam-gyu knew about his new friend was about the stupid games he played live for a bunch of idiots who donated money to him. And all Gyeong-su knew about him, apparently, was about his mother.

 "What the hell, man," He tried to comfort Nam-gyu, placing his free hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it...?"

 "With you? Obviously not!" Then Nam-gyu returned to his normal behavior, rolling his eyes. He was almost offended that the other even considered that possibility.

 To keep the uncomfortable conversation from going on, he started walking again. The entire path in front of him consisted of the same thing: trees. He only knew where to go because of the thin, straight path beneath his feet, probably formed by the amount of people who preferred to take shortcuts there rather than walk through the buildings and convenience stores.

 The sun escaped through the yellow leaves, and now it was less cold, fortunately. He felt slightly more at ease, until Gyeong-su took the lead with quick steps and went back to narrating everything he saw, pointing out every useless detail like a tour guide.

 Nam-gyu raised his eyebrows, pleased that the other ignored the previous subject so easily.

 "I'm just waiting for the moment when you 'change my life'" Nam-gyu let himself laugh a little at the situation.

 "Calm down," The other said with a confidence disproportionate to reality. "You need to be a little more patient."

(NOTE: This chapter was basically nothing, this is why I'm calling it "prologue". It'll only make more sense once there are more chapters, the sole reason for all these scenes was to introduce Nam-gyu's life. And because I think it's funny to note how grumpy and different he is when he's with anybody else other than Thanos)

[maraxp]

                       ⚓  ♰     .     ࣪  🪨 ♡‌  ㅤ۪ㅤ    ⏖     ꒪       𓉼    

⟣ character : live action!roronoa zoro // fem!reader

⟣ synopsis : after witnessing the fight with zoro and dracule mihawk with the rest of the strawhats, you were by zoro’s side as he healed, comforting him and so on, not knowing that he was secretly listening to you.

⟣ word count : 672 words.

⟣ tags : not proofread (i’ll fix that later), strawhat!reader, female / afab reader, mentions of injury, praise, pet names “dear” and “jerk”, no use of “(y/n)”, fluff, swearing, mentions of alcohol, semi-soft! reader, comfort, eventual smut (not in this post / slow burn), will add more as the series progresses

⟣ note : yes, it is the live action zoro we all know and love. this is my first fanfiction here but it’s not my very first fic ever. english is not my first language so if i made any mistake, please let me know !

it scared you. the fight between roronoa and that mihawk guy scared you, and you didnt know why.

was it because of the fear eating your mind when you saw roronoa’s huge gash on his chest? was it remembering zoro asking to duel mihawk to “fight to the death” while you secretly doubted that he was going to lose? probably both.

when luffy rushed to search for help, you stared at zoro laid out on the ground. you weren’t disappointed, you weren’t disgusted either. you were afraid that he was going to die from how deep the wound was.

when he was brought in, your heart was racing. you didn’t know that zoro being severely injured would actually make you have a heart attack. then again, you saw that he was a skilled swordsman, you knew it was a rare chance for him to get cut up like that.

everyone took turns visiting zoro as he slept with his wounds treated, telling him stories and what not to keep him closer to life than death. when it was your turn, your heart raced. you didn’t know what to say, so you nervously walked in the room, playing with your fingers.

you sat by zoro’s side as he laid, staring at his features. what made your heart slow was the soft rise and fall of his chest, and the sound of his relaxed breathing. time flew by as you sat by his side, humming a soft tune to let zoro know that you were there with him. your hand rested on top of his, rubbing your thumb against the top of his hand.

what you didn’t know was that you were the best comforter for him. you didn’t even realize it until now and it made you smile. you sighed as you gave zoro a soft, reassuring squeeze to his hand. all it took was a small ‘i miss you’ for your thoughts to actually cooperate and think about a genuine thing to talk about.

“you didn’t even have time to think about your actions, you jerk.” you smirked, scoffing at the memory. “nami, usopp, and i worry for you, dear. why did you want to fight that mihawk guy all of a sudden? was it the drinks? were you drunk? i don’t mind about that but still, you scared me back there, roronoa. please don’t do that again, my dear.” you whispered, it truly did frighten you but at least you’re glad that he’s alive now.

you gave his hand another soft squeeze as you raised it to your lips, giving it a small peck. “but you did very well back there, i can give you that. great job, roronoa. i’d love to see more of you in action.” you mumbled, scooting a bit closer to zoro. “we miss you, roronoa. i hope you realize that, dear.” you continued as you brought your hand up to stroke his hair.

what spooked you was when you looked at zoro’s face, you could’ve sworn you saw a tiny smirk displayed on his lips. did he hear all of that? it made you shudder a little, now feeling embarrassed.

you stumbled over your words, clearing your throat while you felt the heat rush to your face. “i’ll– uhm.. i’ll– go get—” you cleared your throat again. “uh.. i’ll go get luffy.”

when you scooted away, you gave his warm hand one more soft squeeze before gently hopping off to leave the room. that sleeping swordsman in the center of the room took your breath away, you could admit that. but you didn’t admit the sudden burn in your chest whenever he would talk to you, especially when you sat next to him back at the baratie.

was it what you thought it was? or was it just a regular heartburn without any other reason behind it? it confused you, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel at home. he made you feel at home. and you liked him for that.

if you want me to add you to my taglist, click on this link [ 🥋 ] and you’re all set !

© maraxp 2023. banner made by me. please do not copy, repost or translate any of my work without permission.

[fabled-fiction]

Temptations of the Wolf

Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: Being a Targaryen meant sacrifice. Being a Stark meant sacrifice. Both these houses know the service of duty well. But when war is amiss, and two leaders of these respective houses meet to discuss allegiance, feelings for one another bubble to the surface and get in the way. Oh how the winds of war turn would be lover on would be lover.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: MAYBE POSSIBLE SPOILER ISH FOR EP 1. Angst, Foribbiden-ish Love, Use of (Y/N), proof read only by author.

A/N: I AM A HOTD TV SHOW PERSON ONLY!!! I did research on wikis to try and write Cregan correctly, however I am but a simple man that writes fanfiction, so mischaracterization isn't totally unavoidable. ENJOY!

A dragon does not get cold.

A dragon does not feel the cold as they have fire brewing under their scales, penetrating not only their bones but also their soul. The soul of a dragon is a fiercely burning one, said to run so hot that their touch alone melts the thickest of ice.

(Y/N) Targaryen knew of this fire better than any dragon. Or that is what the people of King’s Landing had quickly grown to best know them by. Growing up within the tense house of Targaryen, especially during war times, justly called for you to have more than just a spine of a predator.

To survive amongst dragons, you must be able to breathe their fire.

Making every other tense occasion feel as though you were walking on air.

Perhaps there was another reason as to why you felt no fear as you flew North. A reason that bore the Stark symbol.

That is why, as Polarxes rode through the winter chill, with the wind daring to snip at your skin you felt calm. At peace almost, even as the great Wall came into view.

It was realized that in order to keep the throne that was meant to stay in the hands of your brother Aegon, relations had to be made. Families and Houses had bent the knee for King Visery’s heir not long ago, and it was soon made apparent that your family would have to make the same bend the knee again for Aegon. Just to make sure that loyalties lied with the correct Targaryen.

Whilst you particularly did not care for such politics, or politics in general, your mother had other plans. Seeing as you and Aemond stood as…the most intimidating of the family it was an easy decision to send the both of you out to ensure alliances were made and pacts bonded.

You knew that the decision to send you to the Wall was laced with more than just truce in mind. Your mother was a cunning woman, and recalled the times that whenever the Starks came to make your acquaintance you favored the nip of the cold family over the burning of the dragon pit. The touch of their ice, and the gaze of one particular wolf.

As your dragon landed, her talons digging in to break, you took a moment to yourself to feel the snowflakes rest on your warm cheeks and melt into the white of your roots. The cold felt nice on your skin that had grown used to the humidity of King’s Landing. To feel at ease in your skin, to have even the opportunity to cool off was an unknown blessing of this trip.

“I hope the ride here was not too tiresome for your dragon here, the winds can be quite hard in preparation for the change of season.”

Looking down at the boy, who looked no older than four and ten years of age, you smiled as you slid off your dragon with ease. She shook her head in response, her ivory scales offering her a sort of camouflage to the elements around her as she settled down. The heat of her breath alone melted whatever ice laid around her, the rest becoming swept up as her wings folded in. 

Whilst you looked at her with admiration, you could tell that this was the first dragon the boy had ever seen. It was a mix of awe and fear that flooded his eyes, which you did not doubt also kept him frozen still in fear of her eating him to remain warm.

“Do not worry about her, she is not the dragon that will eat you alive should you make one wrong move.”

A wolf does not get cold.

A wolf does feel the cold because the wolf knows how to bear the frigid winds. Their fur having grown to shift with the winds that come with winter. They stand strong against the chill of winter, and stand headfast at the front of the storm. 

The gaze of a wolf alone makes one question whether or not the storm bends to the wolf’s howl.

Cregan Stark knew that his house would come to be called upon soon enough. That is what comes with the winds of war. He just never felt bothered enough to actually busy himself with the calls of the storm.

But it became increasingly hard to ignore as a dragon landed at the gates of the Wall.

Especially when it was a dragon he recognized, that held a rider that had occupied his mind in the dark of the night as he stared into a fireplace. The lick of flames taunting him the same way a certain Targaryen had whenever in their presence.

He had begun to regret not knowing what exactly this storm of war would make him face.

The warmth of a Targaryen was hard to ignore, it made the men wish for the comfort of home as they were reminded of just how cold winter really was when left in their absence. A reaching hand hoping to grasp onto the hearth that was your soul. 

Even as he looked up toward the wall, the announcement of your presence was made when he felt sweat beghin to build on the back of his neck.

Turning towards you he noticed the sea of men that had parted to make a runway for you,almost as if they were presenting you to him. Or maybe it was the other way around as he noticed the way your predatory gaze ate up every inch of him.

He should have felt intimidated just by that alone.

You stood there before him, adorning only the one coat that seemed to mock the furs that he had adorned in order to retain even a fraction of the heat that you held onto. Your head was held high as you looked upon the Stark, giving him the smallest courtesy bow as your hand reached to shake his. He should not have been so eager to be in your presence upon the precipice of war.

Cregan Stark was no fool, he knew the reason for your visit. But still, appearances seemed to be becoming more and more important in this age.

“Lord Stark, I hope I am not intruding? There were some important business I’d like to discuss and well…dragons are faster than ravens.”

He offered you a curt smile as he stood to his full height, hoping to give himself an advantage on the conversation. Or at the very least to provide some distance to distract from the pit that had been lit a flame from your very speaking of his name.

“You’re not intruding in any way. Would you like to take this discussion somewhere more private, if the matter happens to be so important?”

You were not used to the Northern accent. The regality of the South had become your norm as you dealt with many affairs there, instead of bending to the will of the many Lord and Lady that wanted an audience with the great Targaryen rulers of the day. Thus you were used to their customs, clothing and accents.

Everything about the North always took you by surprise, and assaulted every sense that you had.

Cregan Stark was no different. If anything he made the divide even more stark as you set your gaze upon him.

He stood tall, and unbroken as he looked at you. The Wolf of the North was everything that had been said about him. Tall, broad, strong…handsome. His steeled eyes locked you in your place almost instantly. You weren’t sure if it was because you feared a single wrong move from you would provoke the beast or because you wanted to soak in every minute of his undivided attention. Never had you met someone with the same resolve as you, nor the same gaze.

You knew now why people were so intoxicated by you.

He always had that effect on you.

Taking his hand, stepping onto the lift you couldn’t help but be drawn to the cold that laid on his hands. The chill that ran up your arm from his touch alone made you want to keep a harsh grip on his gloved hand.

When the both of you were locked in, it was only then did your hands regretfully break apart by the jostle of the cables.

“I’m sure you know why I have made the trip all the way out here?” 

“Was it not to take in the view atop the wall?”

The chuckle that left your lips resonated throughout the cart, it made Cregan want to fill a book with quips that would draw similar sounds out of you. He smiled to himself as the ride came to a halt, and the two of you made the trip to a balcony overlooking the edge of the forsaken wall.

“ While that is a plus, I have come here as a courier from the Queen Mother. Whilst I believe you are busy with the responsibilities of defending the South from that of which come from those blasted woods, it would shock me to find you do not know of the developing situation within my family?”

His suspicions were confirmed. While there was no doubt you had come to discuss the usurping of the throne, it lifted some weight off his shoulder to know that you had been the one to broach the topic first. For some…unknown reason he felt hesitant to the idea of bringing up a topic that would only bring a scowl upon your face. Or any topic for that matter that would cause a crease to form between the bridge of your gaze.

But upon the question he found that you were calm and collected. As if you had not just brought up the topic of a deed that often led to disorder amongst the throne and council. Many of the men that served the wall had been sent here for just the discussion of mutiny alone.

Your confidence alone shook him, and confused him at the same time.

“I’m sure even the farthest reaches have heard of your brother taking his seat upon the Iron Throne. I'm confused however on what this has to do with me?”

Taking your gloves off, Cregan watched as you placed your hands on the edge of the ice that formed this pocket amongst the wall. Your shoulders dropped along with your head as you took in a deep breath. It was interesting to take in your mannerisms when it was just him instead of him and an audience. You behaved…well like a dragon. A foreboding presence that did not easily reveal their intentions, a ticking trap of anguish and fire. A continuous stream of steam left your nostrils as you took a moment to contemplate.

The dread that spilled from your exhale had Cregan convinced there was something more amiss this meeting of allegiance. 

“I truly do not care of the affairs of my brother, he has rarely acted on his own accord. Thus why I am here, to gather support of others that will make sure whatever whims he does hold are defended from those that aim to make all of this harder than it has to be.”

Looking at the palm of your hand that had been grasping the ice with a fury, you noticed that it had only now just started to turn pink. Whereas you were sure if anyone else had dared to meet flesh with ice, it would be purple and dead by now. It was a calming reassurance to feel the calming touch of ice. When looking into Cregan eyes, you felt a similar calm as his brows furrowed into a look that resembled something of sympathy.

He understood more than anyone the weight of duty.

“If I may ask, it seems as if you do not have much desire in the battles that are brewing? So why come here to make a play with a house that is known to keep their oaths?”

Of course he knew the weight of duty. The Stark house was known to be one of the most noble houses when it came to keeping a promise. They had bent the knee for your half sister years ago, so why must you have come out all this way to try and turn their tides? You truly did not want to come out all this way, only making the trip at the request of your mother who had become a thorn in your side ever since you made your indifference to the throne known.

You knew coming out this way would not sway the Stark, but instead sway you. 

“Who wishes for war? Only mad men desire a battle that would take their life,” Taking a moment to compose yourself, you straightened your back.

“Which is exactly why I come in hopes that you share the same sentiment.”

Your eyes seemed to hold all the emotions of the seven kingdoms. Cregan took a moment to compose himself, and remind himself that he was the Warden of the North. He does not need to consult himself on ways to keep the blaze of your heart lit. He had a job, just as you had yours.

Which is why he felt himself faltering.

“A Targaryen that does not wish of war? You are a rarity amongst your family (Y/N).”

Your name should have felt foreign to say. It was not dressed with honorifics, and he meant it. The lack of title that came before your name was with the purpose of bringing this conversation down to a more personal level. 

He watched as you tensed with him saying your name. But he knew it was not in offense, he could never offend you. It was in realization of the fragility of this conversation.

His informality was sealed when he rested his hand on the small of your back. The both of you just took in the moment to look beyond the wall. Cregan knew that this simple action could warrant reaction from you, it would be justified for you to take his hand and his tongue for even speaking to you in such a casual way.

Instead you melted into his touch, turning to face him.

He took this as an invitation to invade your space once more, taking a step forward to move a piece of hair that threatened to obscure his view of you.

“You flatter me, Lord Stark. But a compliment such as that will only do so much to sway me. I was sent here for a reason.”

His title wavered on your tongue as you spoke to him. This just drew more a response from him as he did not move, humming almost in agreeance as his hand found its place on your cheek. For a moment he felt jealous of the leather that dressed his palm, for it had the honor of holding you truely.

“Hmm yes, you were sent here for a reason. But could there not have been another? One that you hold instead, that trumps the duty you feel to your house?”

He was always good at reading you.

Perhaps you should have felt unease in coming here, to think it would just be a simple trip to the Wall that would just lead you to return home with nothing but a word that the Starks were not aligned with your house.

You were blinded by the urge to see him, the want to make his acquaintance one more time before the realm tore itself apart. “Cregan…”

His name fell from your lips with a whisper, as if you were praying to the gods above to harden your resolve.

“Tell me the real reason you came here.”

He was incredibly close now, his presence shadowing over yours. He covered you in a shroud of snow, his touch almost paralyzing you as you remained locked in a fight of wills.

Who would win? The fearsome dragon or the unbending wolf?

“To speak with you. There are…alliances that need to be made in order to keep my family from tearing itself and the world apart.”

This earned a frown from him as he leaned even closer to you. He assaulted every sense you had now. His eyes burned into yours, rivaling your gaze as his scent came over you. There was a reason you favored the smell of leather and musk. It reminded you of him.

“Could you just this once make a decision that was not dictated by your family, but rather made in lieu of what you wanted?”

Your hand reached up to hold his wrist of the hand that grounded you. Your touch was searing, Cregan knew that had you touched his skin he was sure there would be a burn where you had touched him. And he would wear it with honor.

He wondered if a kiss from you would be just as searing. If steam would rise from the both of your lips as you became one.

The fan of your breath over his cheeks threatened the very resolve he was known for.

This very act alone could be considered taking a side. The both of you would seal your fate if you fell blindly into your passions right at this second. A thought crossed the wolf’s mind, how truly awful would it have been to give in, even for just a moment?

Your hand on his cheek, a mirror of his own action, made him clasp his eyes shut as a shaky breath escaped his own trembling lips. 

He looked beautiful, in this very moment, you thought.

The both of you were so close, the desire of one thing burning in your mind as you stared at him.

You were never one for politics, but could that argument alone be excuse enough to betray the whims of your family for a single kiss from a man that would stand against them?

You wished to lite his lips ablaze with the passion of your touch.

He wished to swallow the fire that burned in your throat.

A dragon does not feel the cold.

A wolf does not feel the cold.

But right in this very moment they both wished the winds would freeze them in place, if not to hold onto the memory for just a moment longer.

“Cregan..”

“(Y/N)..”

The side of his nose seemed to fit perfectly against yours as he leaned in. Your hand rested up against the nape of his neck perfectly, anchoring both of you in this stance. 

Just as the both of you felt a graze of the other, there was the annoyance of another made present.

The squealing of the lift cables broke the silence, and thus breaking the tender moment of the two of you.

It wasn't until they came to a halt did you finally step back, and Cregan was left to imagine the moment for only a second before opening his eyes to the reality of the situation.

“Lord Stark, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon of house Velaryon has arrived to speak with you.”

With a small huff of a laugh, you straightened your cloak and looked out over the wall once more. 

This would probably be the last time you saw winter…the snow…and him.

Feeling his hand grip your chin, making you face him you could only chuckle as you held his face again. Only this time with longing and remorse. You were already mourning any possibility you had with him, and he knew it too as he looked down at you.

“I wish it were that easy…”

Leaning forward, you played with fire one last time as your lips came to rest on the corner of his. It was a quick moment, only giving yourself enough of it for the small gesture. You knew if you lingered for even a moment the Northerner would take it upon himself to seize whatever he could. And then you truely would be gone to the whims of a lovely passion.

Pulling away, you watched as he held where you had kissed him, before breaking away from your eye as you made your way to the lift to leave him.

But when his hand found your wrist, you could feel the fire brimming in your throat.

“Just…think about what I said…before its too late.”

Looking over your shoulder, you couldn't help but take the moment to study his face. Commit it to memory. Perhaps that is truly what you came here for. Not some silly test of allegiance, for you already had that answer before you even mounted your dragon.

No…it was to take in one last memory of the cold.