#when i have more details ill be letting you all know

[faeriegirl]

Jumping on the bandwagon 🩵✨️

[xxplastic-cubexx]

im not exaggerating when i say ive been staring at your newest twitter art for the past twenty minutes. i feel ill Why can i hear them

the thigh size difference, the codpiece, charles drooling and Shaking that man is Gone, mags' smug smile and uh. his uhm . Hes HUGE..... charles How do you take that thing and live to tell the tale... and mags' lil speech bubble, what filth could he be sayin..... much to think about, i think i hauve covid, THEY LOOK SO GOOD, apologies to your bro's sneakers but i for one am very happy with this outcome :3 as always thank you so much for your service 🫡🫡

thank you for the review on my doodles today!!!!! i looked deep into my soul and let it do the rest......

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[awek-s]

ohhhh desperately need to leave this house before i kill myself I fear it’s coming 🤣🤣

[sluttysnowangel666]

His Second Wife - cregan stark x reader (request)

summary: two years following the death of cregan’s first wife, he accepts an undesired marriage proposal to rhaenyra targaryen’s daughter. rhaenyra’s daughter, who had loved cregan the moment she first met him as a young girl, immediately loves and accepts cregan’s first child as her own. yet it is still not enough for cregan to find his own love for his new wife.

cw: mean cregan😓, widow!cregan, targ!reader, loss of virginity(reader), rhaenyra’s daughter, angst to fluff, unrequited love, sex, happy ending

do yall notice i always post a long ass story usually around midnight or later ( i’m unwell)also this is long af soz it was a detailed request and I wanted it to be to a T. this is SOO long. i prolly should have done two parts… oh well @lillithsalvatore hope you enjoy it love ❤️

masterlist

“How do you feel, my love?” Your mother asked, placing a warm and comforting hand on yours.

You sighed. “Nervous.”

She gave you that warm and sweet smile of hers. “I know. I hope you know this choice was not easy for me to make, as I know this was a hard task for me to place upon you.”

“I know, mother.” You say with forgiveness, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Had it been any other lord I would have surely declined but… Starks are the most honorable among men. I know your union will be blessed by the gods.”

You give her a smile, blindly trusting her words. You had met him once, and you knew he was kind. In fact, he had left a paw shaped imprint on your heart. You thought to yourself no union could be more suitable. You knew he had married once before out of a prior marital alliance, but the marriage had been short lived, lasting only a year before his first wife died in her birthing chambers.

It took more than four moons before you arrived at Winterfell, as if every power in the world was set on preventing it. You were not a superstitious person, so you simply thought all the bad things that happened prior to your marriage was coincidence.

Each time you went to leave, something prevented you. Your mother miscarried your baby sister, Lucerys was killed by Aemond, Daemon went silent at Harrenhall, Rhaena ran away and was lost in the eyrie before revealing she claimed Sheep-stealer.

You arrived in the dead of winter, and the journey had not been kind to you. You got a chill on the way up, causing you to stop at an inn for a few nights, you had came across raiders who killed one of the many men escorting you, and your clothes were ill suited for the weather.

You did eventually arrive at Winterfell thankfully, all in one piece.

You stepped out of the carriage cautiously, eyeing the snowy landscape surrounding you. It went as far as the eye could see. You held your hand out, letting the thick snowflakes fall and melt in your hand.

“My princess.” You turn to see Cregan, walking towards you. He bows, forcing a politeness. “Winterfell is yours.”

You bow in return, “No need for such formalities, Lord Stark. This is your home, and I am honored to have you welcome me here.”

He nods, choosing to say nothing else to you.

“Please show the princess to her chambers.” He says to one of the servants, then immediately turning on his heels to leave. Your jaw falls slightly, surprised at his curt demeanor.

You compose yourself, trying to hide the slight hurt in your features before making your way to your private chambers.

You bathed immediately, welcoming the hot water against your skin. No water could be hot enough for your dragon blood, but what they had drawn up for you would do nicely.

Your wedding was a week after your arrival, the lord having given you time to settle in. You had not seen him much during that week so you chose not to bother him, assuming he was busy with duties.

When you walked down that snowy path to the red weirwood, Cregan stole a glance at you. You looked beautiful, and he felt horribly guilty for thinking it. He felt like what he was doing was betraying her.

You said your vows, swearing your love before the old gods. You smiled at Cregan and he gave you a forced one in return. Guilt wracked his whole body. He felt guilty for you, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give you a union where you were loved, he felt guilty for liking your smile, he felt guilty for forgetting hers.

There was a feast following the ceremony, nothing large due to the pains of winter, but it didn’t bother you. The small gathering felt intimate, compared to southern weddings where lords and ladies travelled from all over the realm to witness it.

It was here you met Cregan’s son, Rickon.

“Hi, little one.” You said. He was only two, a fat little babe who looked just like Cregan.

“Rickon, this is my new wife.” Cregan said. The way he worded it made you twitch, it had sounded so strained. He didn’t even use your name. You told the boy the name he could call you, but he said nothing as he hid behind his father’s leg.

“I apologize.” Cregan said, his voice showing no sign that he actually was sorry.

“It is alright, my lord. He is just a babe. He and I will have time to get to know each other.” You said. Cregan tensed up, suddenly remembering again this union was forever.

“Excuse me, princess.” He said, turning and walking away with Rickon. Your heart sunk a bit. You could start to sense it now, Cregan was not in the slightest invested in your union together. You felt lost, out of place suddenly.

You sat back down at the high table, overwhelmed with nervousness. You bit at your nails and the skin around them, biting until they bled. You missed your mother dearly. Being here, in this room among strangers who didn’t care much for southerners to begin with, made you feel small.

You had sat there for an hour or two, not moving or eating once, save for your cuticles.

Cregan came to you, not noticing your nervous state. If he had noticed, he chose to ignore it. “I’ve put Rickon down… Would you please accompany me to my chambers?”

You looked at him, the nail bed of your thumb resting between your teeth. You nodded, standing and staring at the hall one last time. You locked eyes with a man, who noticed you both about to take your leave.

“Is it time for the bedding ceremony, Lord Stark?” The man asked, erupting a few cheers from the men mostly.

“No!” Cregan nearly barked the order. “There will be no bedding ceremony.”

The men in the crowd shuffled awkwardly at his outburst but accepted.

“Princess.” Cregan said, walking away and not waiting to see if you were following.

You did anyway, struggling to keep up with his quick pace. You had the sense he wanted this to be over with quickly.

He held the door as you both entered his chambers. You took in your surroundings. It was a clean and large kept room with a lit hearth and a large bed. A thought passed your mind, even though you tried to push it down.

Did he share these chambers with her?

Cregan began to take off his armor and furs, again not watching to see if you did the same, only assuming you were. If you weren’t, he didn’t care.

“Um, could you help, my lord?” You asked, referring to the laces of your white wedding dress.

He sighed, walking over to you as you turned your back to him. Your eyes welled with tears, but you tried to hide it.

His hands were gentle with the laces, not tugging at them as you expected him to. He obviously had experience doing this before.

He grew emotional as he undid your dress, but he hid it well. It was a weird sense of deja vu. Your hair looked like hers from the back and he felt like he was back at his first wedding.

You pushed the dress off, revealing the sheer linen soft dress underneath. He hadn’t moved from behind you, trying to maintain his composure. You walked away from him, lying on the bed and biting your nails again.

He finished disrobing besides his briefs, and you stole a glance at his back. It was huge, muscular and scarred.

He walked over to the bed, getting between your legs and pushing up your shift.

“Is this alright with you, princess?” He asks. “We need not consummate this if you are not ready.”

For the first time it seemed like he kinda cared about how you felt. His hand still had a hold of your shift, which was resting on your pelvic bone.

You nodded, “Is it alright with you, Lord Stark?”

He nodded, pushing your shift up the rest of the way to reveal your chest. He wanted to fall on his sword for the way he kept stealing glances at your breasts.

He pushed his briefs down, and you choked on your breath at the reveal of his length.

“Oh, gods.” You mumbled under your breath.

He rubbed himself against your slit, and your heart stilled for a minute. The feeling was foreign and intense.

He gently grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth. You hadn’t even realized you were still doing it, it was starting to become like breathing. A natural, unintentional habit.

Your hands fell to his biceps to steady yourself. You looked at him, but he did not meet your gaze. He instead bowed his head, watching himself enter inside you.

You dug your nails into his arm, gasping in shock. He gently shushed you, telling you it was okay.

“Please, please.” You said, not knowing what you were even pleading for.

“What?” He asked gently, his voice low and almost mimicking of your whining. It sent a shiver up your spine.

He was slow and gentle with you, not in it for any pleasure himself.

You touched his chest and his hair and his arms, and while he didn’t stop you he made no effort to touch you himself. His hands rested beside your head, holding up his weight.

Your hands found his arms again and you moaned softly, feeling your peak building in your stomach. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his head, moaning as you spilled onto him. He closed his eyes as he felt it, and guilt wracked him again.

He gently pulled out of you and stood up, immediately dressing himself into his nightwear. You pushed your shift back down and pulled the linen covers over you, immediately going back to biting your nails at his reaction.

He laid beside you, not facing you and not saying anything.

You said nothing, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed how he intentionally avoided spilling himself into you.

———

It had been 3 months since your arrival to Winterfell, and you had adjusted as well as you could given the circumstances.

You did not often see your lord husband, but you were used to it. He spent a lot of his free time in the crypt where she was. It hurt, but you gave him his peace and he appreciated that you didn’t hover.

“Mummy!”

“Sh, sh, love.” You say as Rickon runs into your chambers.

Cregan did not like when Rickon called you his mother. He’d gotten upset with you a few times over it, and you assured him you would correct Rickon when it happened.

“Mummy.” He repeated. You giggled. pulling him into your lap. You shook your head and tapped his nose, saying, “Nooo. Not mummy.”

“Mummy.” He laughed, and you ran your fingers through his thick brown curls.

“What ever will we do with this mop on your head, my son?”

“He is not your son.” You turned to see Cregan standing in the door way. “And his hair is fine.”

“Apologies, my lord.” You said, curtly. He ignored your attitude.

“Come, Rickon.” He said, beckoning his son.

“No, mummy.” Rickon whined, holding you.

“Go see papa.” You told him, and with your blessing Rickon ran to Cregan.

Cregan gave you a cold stare as he left, and you returned the favor.

You were growing ever so agitated with your husband. He had welcomed you into Winterfell, but not his heart. The only time you both had shared a bed was the night of your wedding, to which Cregan had made sure not to give you an heir.

You had no one. Rickon had you, Cregan had you even if he did not want you, yet you were alone here in Winterfell.

You decided to write to your mother on Dragonstone, requesting for Jacaerys to pick you up on dragon back so you could visit your family and hopefully receive advice. You had left your dragon, Silverwing, at home. You did not want to disrespect the already hesitant northern people, and you did not want Silverwing to be cold or hungry.

That night when you were brushing your hair before bed, there was a knock on your door.

“Come in.” You looked in the mirror and saw Cregan’s half sister, Sara, enter.

“Hi, Sara.” You said. She came up behind you, taking the brush from your hand and slowly combing it through your hair. You two had formed a unique bond, given you were both considered outcasts in Winterfell. You were a southerner, she was a bastard. They were two sides of the same coin here in Winterfell.

“I heard what happened today.” She said, and you hummed mindlessly. “My brother can be a bastard.”

You smiled at her in the mirror. “Is that so?”

She nods. “I wish I knew what to do, Sara.”

“We northerners love hard, princess. We are unwaveringly loyal. The wound of losing Aly is still fresh in my brother’s heart. Give him time. He knows you love Rickon, and that scares him. I don’t know why.”

“Was Aly pretty?” You ask.

“You have a southern beauty we do not see often in the North. Aly was not a beautiful woman, but she was a fierce fighter. That is how history will remember her. She was born fighting, and she died fighting. I know you are a fierce fighter as well, princess. You are the blood of the dragon. Do not let the grief my brother holds make you feel small.” She kisses the back of your head. “Throw a fucking book at his head if he acts like that again.”

You laugh, her joke comforting you. She turns and leaves you alone, your head clouded with thoughts of Aly.

You heard back from Jacaerys within a few days that he would arrive shortly to bring you home. You had not yet told Cregan, as you knew he wouldn’t care anyway.

A few days following the letter from the raven, it was Sara’s name day. Cregan had decided to celebrate with a feast, one bigger than your wedding.

You all sat at the high table, your husband and sister in law drinking heavily. Although Cregan was a big man, the amount of ale he consumed that night seemed enough to kill a horse.

“My princess.” A servant rested her hand on your shoulder. You and Cregan both turned to look at her, and she grew nervous, not expecting Cregan to pay any attention or perhaps she would not have asked the princess the request. “Rickon has had a nightmare and wants no comfort of the maids. He is requesting you by name specifically, princess.”

You turn to look at Cregan for his approval. He gives a quick nod, which you hadn’t expected. Perhaps he only obliged since Rickon had requested you by your name, rather than requesting his “mother.”

You walked with the maid to his chambers, opening the door.

“Mummy.” He said through sniffles. You turned to face the maid.

“I thought he requested me by my name.” You said.

“That is your name, princess… to him.” The maid closed the door.

You turn to face Rickon with a gentle sigh. “You know papa doesn’t like that word.”

“Mummy.” He just says again. You walk to his bed, fitting yourself in to lay with him. He cuddles into your chest, and you play with his hair to help him sleep.

“Say it okay.” He says.

“Hm? What do you mean, child?” You ask.

“She say it okay to call you mummy.”

“Who?”

“Mummy did.”

“No, you have to call me my name, sweet boy.”

“Not you, mummy. My other mummy said it okay.”

“You confuse me, Rickon.”

“Mummy says ignore papa.” You chuckle softly.

“Sleep now, my love.” You say, and he slowly falls asleep while you hum him a soft song.

You rise, tucking him in and giving his head a kiss.

You open his door to return to the feast, and Cregan is there waiting.

You gasp, covering your mouth quickly to not wake Rickon.

“Gods, you scared me!” You whisper/yell at him. He says nothing, his eyes in a glossy and drunken haze.

You close the door, nearly standing chest to chest with him.

“I heard you sing to him.” He says softly. “Where did you learn that song?”

“He taught me it.” You say, as you go to step past him when he stops you.

“Cregan?” You say confused, turning to look up at him.

He takes your cheeks in your hands and slams his lips on yours. You freeze for a second in shock, before immediately returning the kiss. He presses you against the door, and you moan into him as you quickly grow wet with Cregan’s sudden change of behavior.

He moves to press gentle kisses on your neck, biting softly here and there. His fingers dig into your hips, grinding himself into you. You moan softly, trying not to cause too much noise against the door.

“Not here.” You moan. He avoids your eyes, taking your hand and pulling you further down the hall to his chambers. It was only your second time in his room. He lifted you into his strong arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing you against the wall.

You both hadn’t even undressed, but you loved the thrill. Your husband finally wanted you after three long grueling months. He pushed your dress up to your waist as you unlaced his breeches.

He took you there against the wall of his chambers, fucking you so sweetly, fucking you in a way that would surely produce an heir.

Your moans filled the halls, and the servants began to spread word that the lord had finally moved on from his first wife.

He carried you to the bed, placing you along the edge as he stood, fucking you with sloppy and drunken thrusts.

You moaned his name, both of you drawing so close to your peak as your hands rested against his stomach. He leaned closed to you as hand moved beside your head to hold his weight, and the other moved under your lower back to lift you slightly off the bed and pull you more into him. The angle sent you over the edge, crying and moaning his name.

Your moans pushed him over, but his next words made you sick.

“Fuck, Alysanne.” He groaned, burying his head in your neck and spilling his seed into you.

You gasped, not even sure you heard him right.

He kissed your neck a few times and then rolled off you, not noticing the look on your face.

You laid there unmoving, still in your dress which was now damp with sweat, and your thighs now sticky with Cregan.

He fell asleep the second his head hit his pillow, still in his clothes.

You choked back a sob, moving your hand to your mouth so he wouldn’t waken. In reality, you could’ve started screaming and he wouldn’t have woke, or even shuffled.

You exited his chambers, trying not to be sick on the way to yours.

“My sister!” Sara drunkenly yelled as she seen you in the hallway. She took notice of your disheveled dress and hair. “Oh my gods, did you and Cregan just…?”

You ignored her, but she noticed the tears on your face. “Wait, sister what is wrong? What happened?”

You slammed the door in her face, throwing yourself into your pillow and screaming.

—

“Mother would be furious if she knew you were sleeping this well past sunrise.”

You groaned, lifting your head from the pillow to find the voice in the room.

“Jacaerys?” You said, when your eyes landed on him.

“I take it the feast for Sara Snow was a success.” He says, making fun of you. Your hair was sticking to your face, wet with a mixture of tears and drool.

“I guess you could say that.” You said, wiping your hair to the side.

“You’re disgusting.” He says.

“Gods, five minutes you’ve been here and you already frustrate me! Get out!” You say, both of you immediately teasing and arguing like you had never left home.

You push him out of your room.

“Don’t touch me, wench!” He whines, smacking your arms.

“Piss off! Go harass the bloody Lord of Winterfell.”

“I’d rather harass the Lady.” You push him out of your doors, turning and pressing your back to slide down the wall.

You hear him knock again and you rise to your feet, angry. “Jace, I said-“

You don’t finish your sentence, since as you open the door it’s Sara.

“I wanna talk about last night.”

“I don’t.” You say, going to close the door on her before she pushes it back open.

“What happened?” She asks, angry. She closes the door behind her and follows you to the bed. You sit on the edge and rest your elbows on your thighs, burying your face in your hands.

“Did my brother hurt you?” She asks, worried.

“No, no.”

She rests on her knees in front of you, placing her hands on your knees. “Tell me what happened.”

You sigh, trying to hold back your tears, but you cannot. “We had sex.”

“Isn’t that good? What went wrong?”

“He called me Alysanne.” You sob out.

“Oh, no.” She says, moving to sit beside you and wrap her arms around you.

“I cannot stay here no longer, Sara. I am being haunted by Alysanne. I find letters she wrote to Cregan, her clothes, her weapons. Rickon thinks I am her and Cregan wishes I was.”

“I am sorry, princess.” She says, sadly. “I thought I knew my brother better than that… Perhaps, if you talk to him about these past few months things can be different. Just give it a try, yes? You have your brother here now. You can leave if things do not work and the marriage can be annulled.”

You did not even wish to think of that possibility. It would be so shameful for both of your houses. You would do everything in your power to make it work.

You cleaned yourself up and went to Cregan’s chambers, knowing he would be hungover.

And you were right.

You entered his room without knocking, finding him in a bath with a warm rag over his eyes. Three times now you’ve been in his chambers.

“You can set it on the table.” He says, not moving the rag.

“What?”

“Oh.” He says, his voice changing in tone. “I thought you were the maid.”

You say nothing, unsure of where to even begin.

“Can whatever you’ve barged into my chambers for wait until I am done.” He asks, only the question is more of a statement.

“No.” You say, angry. You walk over to him and pull the rag off his eyes. He squints at the brightness, then gagging on the air as if he might be sick. “We’re going to talk, Cregan. We’ve been married for months and I don’t think we’ve ever truly had a conversation once. It is all I am asking. You could at least give me that. You’ve given me the cold shoulder for three months, and I’m tired of it. I’ve helped raise your son, I’ve loved you and I’ve cared for you even when you didn’t want it. You owe this to me.”

He sighs, defeated. “You are right in that, my princess. I apologize. We can talk later, alright?”

“No, Cregan. We will talk now.”

“You wouldn’t rather talk when I am of a clear headspace?”

“No. Now.” You say. He sighs again.

“Say your piece.”

The words left your mind the second he said that. You had this conversation in your head many times before, but now it was here and you could not handle the heat of the moment.

He raised his eyebrow at you, as if you were dumb.

“Oh, do not do that. I thought you Starks were supposed to be the most honorable among men. This whole marriage I have been treated with everything but. You are a disrespectful man, Stark. I am truly sorry about Alysanne-“

“Do not speak to me about my wife, ever!” He yells, pointing at you.

“I am your wife!” You cry out. “You chose me, whether you were ready for another marriage or not! I left my home, my family, my dragon to be with you! If I cannot have your love, is it too much to ask for your fucking respect?!”

He goes quiet for a few moments, “You have always had my respect, princess… and I know I have erred in the way I’ve treated you these past moons. But this marriage is just a duty. Nothing more, nothing less. This marriage is not out of love… so do not expect me to love you back.”

You laugh, dryly. “You called me Alysanne last night… Do you remember that? No… I suppose you were too drunk. You never would have touched or cared for me like that sober.”

He says nothing, but his hands grip the side of the tub and his face is contorted with anger. You rise, hiding any sort of emotion on your face.

“The dead don’t need lovers. Only the living.” You said. He threw his rag at the door as you walked out, not even granting him a second glance.

The memories of last night flooded back to him, and he rested his face in his hands, crying at his behavior. He had let down Aly, his son, and you.

He did care about you, he did love you in his own way. He just didn’t know how to show it. He didn’t want to show it. If he had shown it, he only would have betrayed Aly even more.

You went down to the crypt, somewhere you had never gone before. You had no reason originally, no people to mourn.

You stood in front of her plot, staring at the statue of her. She had been a skinny girl, with long dark hair and ‘plain’ features. You thought she was a beauty in her own way. You saw why Cregan loved her.

You cried. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help him.”

Your hand touched her statue, then you stood and left the crypt.

You said goodbye to Rickon, Sara, and then you left with your brother on dragon back, ready to be home with your true family.

———

“You’re a fucking fool, brother.”

“You think I don’t know that? Gods.” Cregan rested his head in his hands. He had sent every raven in Winterfell to Dragonstone, yet not one had responded in the weeks since you’d left.

“We’ll be lucky if the bloody queen doesn’t declare war on us for you scorning her daughter.”

“I am trying here, Sara! I’ve sent my ravens, I’ve sent men to retrieve her. There is nothing more I can do!”

Sara slammed her hands on the table. “Go and get her your bloody self, Cregan. The trip to Dragonstone will give you plenty of time for reflection.”

Sara turned to leave, and Cregan knew it was his only option of getting you back here. He would go and get you and make things right. He had to.

You had your own time for reflection, riding home with Jacaerys made you realize how much you missed being on dragon back.

Your mother of course welcomed you with open arms, but was wracked with guilt that you and Cregan’s union was not working. You paid it no mind however, spending your days patrolling Dragonstone on Silverwing.

Cregan had taken his horse and a few men to retrieve you from Dragonstone. The trip by horse was long, more than several weeks.

The entire time he rode in silence he thought of you. He thought of your last conversation and the final words you had said to him. The dead don’t need lovers. And you were right. Alysanne would not have wished to see him treat you how he had, she would not have wanted Cregan to spend his time sulking or being angry. He only wished he had realized it before he left.

He loved you. If only it hadn’t taken you leaving for him to realize. You were kind, gentle, beautiful. Traits Alysanne didn’t have but it was what seperated you from her. It had been how he was able to find his own kind of love for you, even when he didn’t consciously realize it yet. His own bitterness from losing Aly had made forget his honor.

Cregan arrived about two moons after you had left. He was aching, frustrated, and desperate by the time he reached Dragonstone.

It was dark, pouring rain, and you were playing with your brothers Viserys and Aegon when he arrived.

“Your Grace!” A knight came into the room shouting. Your mother looked up from her book. “Cregan Stark of Winterfell has arrived and requests an immediate audience with you and the princess.”

Your mother looked at you, and you looked like you’d seen a ghost. Your heart sank and your face went pale, but you nodded.

You met him inside the council chambers with your mother and his men. He was soaked, shivering. You could hear your heart beating in your ears, that was how nervous you were.

“Cregan.” You said, walking towards him and pushing him by his arms to the hearth to warm him up. It was another thing he loved about you, your protective nature, so he said it.

“I love you.”

“Cregan…”

“Love her?” You both looked at your mother, whose face was angry. “You love my daughter?”

“Your Grace.” Cregan said, removing his sword and bending his knee. “I’ve come to beg your forgiveness.”

She walked towards you both. “It is not mine you need to beg for… I sent my only daughter to you, and you spurn her for your dead wife?!”

“Mother!”

“You will not interrupt the Queen when she is speaking.” She commands you. “What do you have to say for yourself, Lord Stark?”

He stands. “I have nothing to say, Your Grace. You are right. My behavior was unacceptable. The princess deserved none of it.”

“Why are you here?” Your mother asks him.

“I’ve come to ask the princess to return home.” Your mother scoffs at him.

She looks at you, then back to him. “You are lucky it is not my decision to make.”

She turns and exits, leaving and commanding his men to wait outside the doors so you both could be alone.

You were even more nervous with just the two of you in there. It is silent for a few moments before you speak.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” You ask Cregan.

“It took you leaving for me to realize I love you.” He says, taking your hands in his. You roll your eyes, taking your hands back and stepping away.

“I can’t believe you.” You say, starting to sob.

“I know, I know.” He steps closer to you again, taking you in his arms as you cry into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“I loved you, Cregan.” You say, crying. “Since I was a girl I loved you. I thought you were different from other men. But, you’re just like the rest.”

Cregan cries into your hair. “I’m so sorry, my princess. I’m so, so sorry.”

You both stand there, holding each other and crying.

“Please come home.” He says. “Let me take you home.”

“Rickon misses his mother, Sara misses her sister… I miss you, you my wife.”

You pull away to look at him, trying to read his normally stoic features. You can see he means it.

“Okay.”

———

You returned to Winterfell on Silverwing, no longer having the strength to remain apart from your dragon.

Cregan had to endure another long and grueling trip back to Winterfell, which you enjoyed knowing he was suffering while you road through the skies.

Rickon had cried tears of joy when you returned, and a week later when Cregan arrived Rickon cried again.

You and Cregan had remained in seperated chambers while you still navigated your marriage, but Cregan made a point to spend every moment of his free time with you.

But you had been keeping a secret from him.

After you returned home to Dragonstone originally, your blood never arrived. The maester determined you were with a babe, which would arrive several moons away in the dead of winter.

Your thick furs and dresses made it easier to hide from Cregan, as you were not ready to tell him.

The babe had complicated things. If you had not been pregnant, you might not have returned to Winterfell when Cregan came for you. But you knew you had a duty, and you believed if Cregan could love you then you could fix your union.

Cregan had indeed put the work in the second he arrived home. He attended to you, conversed with you, ate with you, laughed with you, but gave you the space you needed and gave you the option to be intimate with him when you were ready.

It was strangely like falling in love all over again. You blushed around each other, got nervous and flushed, made each other’s hearts race, shared a first kiss when you were both ready.

Cregan had undoubtedly fallen madly in love with you, and he regretted not taking the time to do it sooner. He couldn’t make up the time he lost being afraid. All he could do now was love you without guilt, love you without fear, love you without shame.

Normally Cregan always knocked on your chamber doors before entering, but for some reason this time he hadn’t. He didn’t know why he didn’t knock, he didn’t know if it happened unconsciously or if he was too busy wrapped up with his thoughts.

Either way, he entered without knocking and by that point the cat was out of the bag.

He said your name, greeting you with a smile, only for it to fall off his face as if it had never been there.

You were in the bath, relaxing in the burning water, but that wasn’t the problem. He’d seen you naked, although it hadn’t been for a few months by this point, but him accidentally invading your privacy wasn’t the problem either.

It was the bump in your belly that was a problem.

Your head turned sharply, covering your chest quickly. “Cregan!”

“Sorry.” He said quickly, turning around to avoid disrespecting you.

“It’s fine.” You said, dropping your arm from your chest. “You just gave me a fright.”

He said nothing for a moment, only continuing to face the wall.

“What is that?” He finally asked. You sighed, stepping out of the tub and into your robe.

You walked up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face you now, and his eyes fell down to your other hand resting on the small bump in your stomach.

“Perhaps it’s time we talk.”

“You think?” He spits at you, immediately apologizing after. “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to be cross with you.”

You said nothing, walking over to the seats by the hearth hoping he would follow.

He did, and he sat next to you, his eyes never leaving your belly.

“Can I?” He asked, gesturing to your stomach. You nodded, untying your robe so that you were bare. You grabbed his hand, bringing it to the small bump.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have accommodated for you, made sure you were comfortable.”

“Truth be told it’s been hard for me to accept I’m truly with a child.” You say, “The reality had not set in until… well until you just now found out... I am sorry, Cregan. I should not have kept it from you.”

He chokes back a sob. “Feels like just yesterday Alysanne had Rickon.”

“He will be overjoyed to know he will have a little brother or sister.” You tell him. He looks at you, his face full of emotion.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks and before you can even finish nodding your head, you’re already leaning in to kiss him.

“I love you. I love you so much, my wife.” He says in between kisses.

His hand did not move once from your stomach the whole night.

[artemisiasmuse]

princess treatment | rafe x low maintenance gf

cw: fluff, mentions of emotionally abusive family dynamics, slightly suggestive (mentions of sex but no details)

you’d always been treated as some sort of third parent, a therapist, a friend but never what you were: a daughter

that all changed when you started dating rafe

on top of being mistreated by your family, you’d never had a bf who treated you right

the first time rafe brought you flowers you cried, he thought he’d done something wrong but you were so touched you couldn’t say anything as you hugged him tight

he made sure to bring you flowers often, making sure you never ran out. you remember finding a flower from your bouquet in his car, asking him why he had it. “when it wilts i know i gotta get you more.” you’d proceeded to make him pull over.

it was like he was dead set on making you fall even more in love when he said, “as fucking great as that was, i don’t do these things for sex baby, i don’t expect anything okay?” you told him you knew that, which you didn’t actually since all the guys you had been with before seemed to be like that, and proceeded to kiss him some more.

to him treating you like a princess came naturally, he was never good at expressing himself so buying you presents, taking care of you, doing things for you was just second nature

in the beginning he thought it was cute how appreciative you were but when you still got shocked from his actions after months he realized you had just never been treated how you deserve

and that pissess him off

he makes it a point to treat you like an absolute princess, not even letting you open a single door by yourself, you don’t even remember the last time you put your heels on by yourself because he was always crouching down to help you before you could think about it

“rafe if you spoil me so much ill get used to it.” you murmured as you watched your 6’2 gently place your heeled foot on his knee so he could buckle the shoe. his touch was always so gentle, as if he’d hurt you like this.

“that’s kinda the point angel,” he says it without hesitation, brows a bit furrowed as he looks for the best notch that won’t cause you discomfort. you think you might start crying again but you bite the inside of your cheek and kiss him when he stands up

rafe hates how your family treats you, but he holds his tongue because he knows you love them it doesn’t matter to him if your family hates them, he know he should seek their approval but he doesn’t think they deserve to dictate any part of your life

he’s holding back until your mom oversteps her bounds in front of him and he just has to step in, taking over whatever thing she told you to do even though he knew your mother was perfectly capable. he guises it as being a good future son-in-law

“it’s okay rafe-“ you say it without realizing, so used to taking the load off of others.

“you can ask me from now on if you need anything,” he looks pointedly at your mother with a smile you know is fake. you just brush it off and think rafe is just trying to make a good impression. you don’t know he doesn’t give a fuck what your parents think. he even starts hating your sibling.

your brother is older than you but never acts that way. when you mentioned an older brother he expected someone protective of you. he was met with someone doted on by your mother, irresponsible and immature and uncaring of his sister. it seemed like you were the older sibling.

you’d been living with your parents while you both dated, you hadn’t seen anything wrong with it until rafe gets you to move out to live with him. your parents are against it at first but with the help rafe has been they have little reason to refuse him.

when you do move out you realize how much better everything is. you’re not your mother’s caretaker, or your parent’s marriage counselor, or even your brother’s mom. you’re you. and you can finally breathe. rafe doesn’t expect anything from you and it slightly unnerves you, how could he take care of you without expecting anything in return?

he pays for everything, even if you push back at first, he replaces your card in your wallet with his going as far as hiding your card and he knows you have a job and that you can afford it yourself but he doesn’t see why you have to

you’d gotten your nails done and shown them to him and when he didn’t see a charge on his card he pouted for a whole day until you gave in and agreed to use it next time

but rafe knows you’re holding back, he can see that you’re spending frugally. he doesn’t want you to, in fact nothing would make him happier than seeing a dent taken out of his bank account because of his beautiful caring girlfriend

you remember your first date when he got offended that you’d offered to split the bill, he was even more shocked when you thanked him profusely after for paying

when you whine about him taking your card he finally has to speak up, “baby, what’s yours is mine right?” you nod without pause, you loved when rafe drove your car or used your skincare. it felt so intimate and domestic like you were a married couple, the thought bringing heat to your face. “right, so what’s mine is yours.” and you can’t really refute that.

one day when he’s drying your hair after your shower, you can’t help but ask, “why are you so nice to me rafey?”

“i love you, s’that simple”

“i love you too but no one’s ever been this nice to me.”

“no ones ever been as nice to me as you are either, that doesn’t mean it’s wrong right?” he always has a way of making you see his side so effortlessly you have to agree. you could never argue that rafe didn’t deserve the amount of love you gave him or more.

“yeah, thank you for taking care of me”

“‘you gonna thank me for the rest of our lives?” you just stare at him blankly and rafe watches the tears well up in your eyes. “hey don’t cry baby, you can thank me as many times as you want okay? just don’t go thinking you deserve any less than this.”

“i’m never letting you go.”

“i’m counting on it.”

on your anniversary, rafe buys you a car and even though you do thank him profusely and maybe cry a little it doesn’t turn your stomach with anxiety on how to thank him properly or that you don’t deserve it. instead you spend the night loving your boyfriend as much as he loves you. you realize rafe just has a different way of showing it.

a/n: instead of crashing out ab my family i wrote this :)

taglist: @ggraycelynn @clar2aa

[writing-for-marvel]

Take Me Home

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky starts fiddling with his dog tags while out with your friends.

Prompt: comforting one another

Warnings: mentions of Bucky’s past trauma but not detailed

Word count: 1.0k

A/N: this is my submission for @stellar-solar-flare’s Starry Winter Sky Event 💜 just a short fic as I get back into writing. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

You’re sure Bucky doesn’t even realise that he’s doing it, but it signals as clearly as if he had shot up a flare that he needs you.

The fingers of his flesh hand fiddle with the metal of his dog tags absentmindedly, nervously, and you can see by the distant gaze of his eyes that he has completely checked out of the conversation.

In all the time you have known Bucky, you’ve been aware of his short social battery, and though some people in your life put it down as him being ‘grumpy’, you know the real root cause is much deeper than him simply liking to keep to himself.

Making your way across the room, eyes watching him retreat even further into himself and turning over the dog tag with his fingers with every additional input of the conversation he had been involved with, your heart descends deeper into the cavernous pit his clear suffering is carving into your stomach.

You know Bucky well enough that he’ll suffer through this internal anguish because he thinks you want to stay at this gathering with your friends, rather than coming to find you right away so you can both retreat into the comfort of your shared apartment.

But you’re not about to let him endure this torment for a second longer.

“Hey guys, sorry to interrupt.” You cut across the active conversation, putting your arm around Bucky’s waist, snuggling up to his side, really not that remorseful about disturbing their discussion when you know the outcome will relieve your love of his pain. “My tummy isn’t feeling that great, Buck, do you mind taking me home?”

There is relief mixed with genuine concern for you in his baby blues when these words come out of your mouth that somehow make you love him even more - he’s currently bearing the brunt of his own pain for you, but the moment you mention a made up illness he’s more worried about your health than his own.

Bucky’s arms snake around you, finally releasing his fidgeting hold on his dog tags, as he places a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Of course my love.” Bucky says, only letting you go for a brief moment as you both say proper goodbyes to your friends, before he intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you out the door to start the short walk to your apartment.

It’s chilly outside the restaurant, a soft breeze making you shiver, and Bucky doesn’t hesitate to shrug off his jacket and place it around your bare shoulders.

Ever the gentleman your thoughtful, doting boyfriend is.

“Do you think it was something you ate?” It’s genuinely sweet how naive he can be sometimes, but you are also aware that it comes from a place of trauma where his brain can’t make the connection that anyone would do something selflessly for him simply because they love him.

“Bucky, I’m feeling fine.”

“But your tummy.”

“I could see you had used all of your social battery, and I know you don’t like to be the reason we leave places early, so I made it up.” He stops dead in the street. There’s a moment, a couple short breaths, when Bucky simply looks at you with wide, affectionate eyes, as if it’s taking him a moment to process what you have done for him.

“You made it up?” It’s not an accusatory tone, instead one that almost sounds astonished. You nod with a small smile. “So I didn’t have to be the reason we left?”

“Mhmm. I only want to be out places when we both want to be there. There is no reason for you to feel uncomfortable and have to endure that for me.” You caress his cheek, feeling the stubble on his jaw as he leans into your gentle touch.

“But darling-” He starts, but you trace your thumb over his bottom lip as a distraction and to interrupt, not to be rude, but to show Bucky you don’t play when it comes to his safety and comfort.

“No buts Buck. We’re in this together, you and me. If the roles were reversed, and you knew I was feeling out of place like that, would you have let me stay?”

His lips curl inward slightly, involuntarily, in a way you have come to know occurs when he doesn’t want to admit he’s in the wrong. Without speaking, with just a grateful look that communicates more than he could articulate with words, he kisses you ardently in the middle of the sidewalk.

“You don’t have to hide how you feel from me. I love every part of you, even the parts you try hiding away from the world. You’re safe with me.” Placing your hand on his chest, his eyes regard you with adoration - you’re not sure what thoughts are racing through his mind, but you can see the cogs turning behind his pupils.

“You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Bucky, when are you going to learn that unconditional love means no strings attached? You deserve to be loved wholeheartedly for exactly who you are. And I promise to do just that, for the rest of my life.” You can feel his heartbeat quicken underneath the pads of your fingers.

He encompasses your hand in both of his, leans forward and speaks with a low tone, for your ears only.

“I love you too. I promise, I’m really gonna try to do better with communicating how I feel. Old habits are hard to break, but I really would do anything for you.”

With that, Bucky pulls you close, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, like you’re his sturdy anchor grounding him as he tries to navigate the choppy, rough sea which has been his life. As you continue home, the weight of the evening slips away, replaced by the comforting feeling that regardless how traumatic his life has been up until now, you would always be a safe place for him to come back home to.

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[reikoknshii]

Perhaps...a Date?

Francis Mosses - Milkman

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊

Its been weeks you've been working for the D.D.D. , you stayed in your work station and do the usual works.

However, those days passed, you got yourself a motivation whenever he check in. Who? The famous milkman of town, Francis Mosses.

What makes him special? Was it his tired eyes? His soft and deep voice whenever he greeted you for checking in? You have no idea..

All you know you were smitten for the exhausted milk delivery man, and you can tell if he is the real one or not. Though there are times you almost let in the doppelganger because on how they almost perfect their form of Francis, either way you never let it in or else you'll be in trouble for cause of death of the apartment residents.

This day he's one of the listed entry resident, perhaps you can have a longer conversation with him?

You inhaled and exhaled as you open the metal window to start your work.

Angus...

Izaack...

Elenois and her Twin Selene..

Where is Francis?

You grew impatient after checking in four people and making sure they're not a doppelganger. Atlas Francis arrived, Tired as usual as he shows his entry request.

Odd...

' Perhaps he's a doppelganger? '

You tapped on the window trying get his attention , when he noticed you questioned where is his Id.

"My Id? My apologies, i forgot to show my Id" He said softly and audible for us to hear from the other glass side of the window.

' looks like everything is in check..wait hold on a minute '

You decide to double check his appearance and his ID, soon enough checking his files and you found the false thing about him.

"I don't remember Francis having a Mole"

"FUCK!" Cursed the doppelganger as he grew angry. This isn't the first time they would be angry, they almost got it perfect but fail because of a small detail.

"I didn't take that into account.

You're not easy to fool.

That makes me want to devour you even more." You shivered as they banged on the protected glass window , you immediately closed the metal cover.

"Can I visit you at night while you sleep? " the doppelganger said from the other side as they continue to hit on the metal cover.

"Yeah no thanks pal, I'd let francis in but not you" you jokingly said and dialed the D.D.D. services.

"Oh? Looks like the stationed guard is hoping for a mutual feeling, ill get you next time.." You immediately regret saying that, especially to a doppelganger, Knowing full well they would use the information they know against you.

You heard the D.D.D. services arrived and waited for it to finish. Soon the cleaning services opened the metal door telling you the 'operation cleaning is done and you may resume your work.'

You felt like a stupid hopeless romantic, now the doppelganger knew you're into Francis and would take that into their account to try getting in.

Soon enough, the real Francis arrived.

He showed both of his ID and Entry request.

ID and expiration date? Good.

Entry Request? Seem Accurate enough.

Appearance? perfect.

Your hands shakes as you checked the list as Francis waited for you to speak.

"Is it all good?" He asked with his usual tired voice as you nodded your head and waited for you to open the door.

"I-" you stammer wanting to say something as Francis stared at you.

"Yes?."

"...i-i well..." You started as you scratch the back of your head. "P-perhaps a date ? Only if you're available" you asked as Francis tired eyes widen abit from your offer.

"..That wouldn't be bad, tomorrow sounds good?" He asked with a slight smile , making your face go red from the overwhelming joy and excitement.

"Y-yes! Please!" You blurt out and realized you look so eager in front of him.

"Alright, mind opening the door for me now?" Francis asked as he carried his ID and work bag , You covered your face embarrassed on how you react to his answer and opened the metal door for him.

"See you Y/n "

[celtrist]

This was the piece that I had started before my extensive vacation (of coughing). Once again, Alastor is consistently the bane of my existence with his... well everything.

No matter! Anyway, this is something I like to call the Obsession AU. To sum it up real fast: Everyone is yandere for Alastor. I think it would just be apart of his punishment in Hell, being consistently forced into or desired in romantic/sex which he's never had much interest in. I would describe it as a dark comedy thing, but it can be as comedic or as dark as you want here. With that said, please be on guard with any mentions of darker content that treds towards a certain dead bird territory when I get a bit into how I imagine some of the characters. Again, it doesn't have to go that far if you're interested in this premise of an au and wanna focus on the more light hearted stuff, feel free.

This au is just poking a bit of fun at how everyone in the fandom wants to put Alastor in romantic situations constantly (whether it be with themselves or the other characters) despite Alastor probably being the least interested in the subject in the whole show. This is by no means a hate train or making fun of people who do enjoy shipping Alastor, it just more of a funny thing I think comes off as pretty ironic for his character and hopefully, others can enjoy that too. In this au he leans pretty much on the clear-cut side of aromantic and asexual with no interest in romantic affections at all. With that said, if you want to explore Alastor genuinely being interested in one of the other characters romantically or something similar, feel free to explore that! I can see some interesting dichotomies there. It's just within the actual "canon" of this au, he's not at all interested with that sort of thing. And just with a last final reminder to get into some character things I have in mind, some of the content mentioned does get pretty dark, particularly with Valentino but I don't think anyone's surprised there. But there might be some triggering content of the following mentioned here with characters but no crazy details really: Manipulation/Gaslighting, forced feminization, Non-con, Munchausen syndrome, Poisoning, Possessive, Drugging, Love bombing And I will be sure to give a quick warning to each character it might apply to, please feel free to let me know if I missed anything!

Rosie (Munchausen syndrome, Poisoning): Rosie has 100% poisoned Alastor before to make sure he relies on her. They started off as good friends but at some point Alastor began getting ill and Rosie offered to take care of him. This leads to Alastor staying in bed for full days, only really seeing Rosie who took care of his every need from food, clothing, washing, and so on. At some point, Alastor caught on that Rosie was putting something in his food to make him sick and he managed to escape with their friendship tarnished much to his dismay. He's often uneasy around Rosie but is upfront about his knowledge of Rosie's deeds. Rosie, in turn, acts like it is a lighthearted situation and often offers Alastor over for lunch, which he often denies. Any food he gets at his doorstep from a secret admirer or a lunchbox he finds at his seat in an overlord meeting goes straight into the trash. Alastor will still use Rosie's assets to his benefit of course, but is always careful as to what she might try to get in exchange. He has had more awkward lunches with her with his homemade meal versus the buffet she catered for the occasion, with the two gossiping like old times. Alastor is still uneasy during these times, but he also revels in the false pleasantries due to not having many others he's able to associate himself with due to the curse.

Lucifer (Controlling, Possessive, Manipulation): So I'm not 100% clear how I wanted to approach Lucifer. He and Charlie are probably the most similar I suppose? He wants Alastor as his queen (either alongside him and Lilith or only with him, he doesn't mind either way). He doesn't force him into dresses or anything, but Lucifer does consistently make doting moves and talks about how Alastor would make a good father to their children. Marriage is one of the mind and Lucifer probably gets a bit possessive with him. He also tries to guilt trip Alastor a lot, or manipulate situations in one of their arguments to get Alastor to say something he doesn't mean.

Charlie (Controlling, Possessive): Probably the most tame of everyone quite honestly. Charlie can be a bit controlling but does step off when Alastor expresses his dislike of her doing so, even if it takes a couple times. She likes doing things for him, is super affectionate, and daydreams about her, Vaggie, and Alastor all getting married. She can get pretty possessive with him, not being pleased when anybody does anything against Alastor's will or hurt him. The only exception to this rule is Vaggie, to which Charlie sees it like two cats getting along and finds it very endearing.

Vaggie (Forced Feminization, Controlling, Murder): Depending on how you look at it, Vaggie's one of the more fucked up obsessions or one of the more funnier ones. Because she's automatically inclined to like Alastor quite a bit with the curse thing but her personality doesn't jive with his for her own taste (in terms of their first meeting), she both hates and loves the guy. She's obsessed with trying to murder Alastor with traps around the hotel or outright standing over him with her spear. The hatred comes primarily from not wanting to feel the way she does about him, I guess like a fucked up tsundere if you wanna go that route. At the same token, however, she does want Alastor to be involved with both her and Charlie romantically. There's just one little problem: Vaggie has about the same amount of interest in men as she does in canon. So to sort of "fix" Alastor, she consistently tries to force him to be more feminine in clothing, offering different feminine names, and even trying to force him to get a sex change. Alastor is pretty slippery though, so it never quite works out in Vaggie's favor aside from the occasional dress or skirt being worn, which solidifies her attraction to him. Then he takes it off and looks more like a man again, and it solidifies her frustration/hatred for him.

Angel Dust (Drugging): To start, while I think Angel would love to have sex with Alastor, he 100% would not force it. Wouldn't even do touches or anything. Potentially he could just like as a coping (to be in a situation where HE'S the one in control), but that is a darker route that I don't think will be exactly true for this AU. However, he very much enjoys drugging Alastor similar to Rosie. Not only just as a bonding thing since Angel would also do the drugs WITH him, but just to get the not-quite-lucid compliments from Alastor and maybe a snuggle then and there. He wants to dote on Alastor with him drugged out in his bed saying nice things to Angel. Admittedly this one's a bit of a workshop as I just knew I didn't want Angel to be focused on sex like somebody, but wasn't sure what to do here.

Valentino(Non-con, LoveBombing): I mean... it is Valentino, what did you THINK he'd be trying to do with Alastor? There's really not much to say here, Valentino essentially tries pulling all the stops trying to get Alastor in bed while also love-bombing the hell out of him. Which really doesn't work. Valentino is pretty open with sharing Alastor, but again, does this surprise anyone? As long as he's participating in some way, he really doesn't mind.

Vox (ALL warnings): Pretty much the worst version of himself that people make him be sometimes for those darker stories in the fandom. While more interested in having an enthusiastic partner, I don't think Vox would be opposed to forcing himself onto Alastor. He consistently tries to manipulate and gaslight, while enjoying both the suffering and pleasure of Alastor. Much like Vaggie, Vox is obsessed both being in love with Alastor while also downright hating him to the core. He's possessive and likes the idea of being both sweet and heinous with Alastor. He pretty much is every other character wrapped up in one fucked up TV man. Vox acts the most well-adjusted of the characters here, but he's probably got the obsession the worst.

And of course, pretty much every other conceivable ship is up for grabs here. I did think about maybe unfallen angels are able to resist the obsession curse, which would possibly make a funny team-up of Alastor, Adam, Lute, and Emily. Alternatively, I thought maybe the other canonically asexual characters in the show wouldn't be affected instead, meaning another oddball team-up of Alastor, Octavia, and Mammon. Then there is of course the "nope, there's no escape for deer man". Not sure yet, maybe I'll workshop it. I have more normal things in the works rather than this messed up little au, but darker content is a guilty pleasure of mine.

[chrattho1]

bsf!chris x reader

backfired.

summary: just one of your car rides with chris,where you get to know something interesting yet heartbreaking about him.

warnings: none its just interaction between two friends ig

a/n: ill keep making such blurbs and texts’ until they get together guys trust🙏 also this is inspired by yesterday’s video!!!

more of this au here

you are in the passenger seat of the car that is more familiar to you than your own. the scent of weed mixed with chris’ cologne smells like everyday to you,music playing in the background,chris bobbing his head to the beat as his eyes stay focused on the road.

chris looks away from the road for a split second-just to glance at you looking at him.

its been a couple of weeks since you broke up with your ex,and chris has been there for you this entire time,getting you food in bed when you dont feel like getting up,staying over,helping you out in any way that he can-your admiration for him grew everytime he helped you out.

right now,nobody is talking in the car,but this is what you love about your friendship with chris-you can sit there in silence and just think without worrying if it will get awkward. well unless he says something stupid and breaks the silence.

you loved that about him,so much- he says everything that comes to his mind,he vocalises his thoughts to you and that makes you feel safe.

he parks at a corner,pulls the mc donalds bags’ ahead from the back seat.

“here are your fries-and your nuggets” he talks mimicking how a parent would talk to a child,you chuckle.

“what if the nugget you eat just exploded in your tummy like-boom” chris says and immediately starts cackling,you laugh with him,your head falling back and your eyes shut.

“shut up bro im fucking crying” you said wiping a tear that was developed out of laughter.

chris nods still chuckling,taking a bite out of his burger, his eyes turn to you as he smiles with his mouth full.

“how many people have you been in love with?” he asks out of nowhere,catching you off guard

“this is so random” you chuckle chewing at your fries.

“just tell me” chris groans acting annoyed

“i have definitely told you this before” you said taking a sip out of his sweet tea.

“no you haven’t” he shakes his head.

“you think we haven’t talked about this before? be for real chris” your eyes narrow,not believing that you two-probably the only two people in this world who have discussed all topics from the most random to the deepest,in detail for hours-haven’t talked about this.

“on my life-i dont know the answer to this question,why do you think i asked” he shruggs

“i think just the one time-remember i told you about the guy i grew up with back home?”you remind him

“yeah yeah him-how long do you think you were in love with him?" he asks another question.

“well lets see..” you start counting years on your fingers, giving up before answering .

“from the age of 12-maybe 11 till i was almost 17” you answer with wide eyes.

“no fucking way-i did not know that” his eyes widen at your response too,before he continues talking.

“what was it about him?” he looks up at you from his fries.

“i dont know-we were friends for so long he knew everything about me and i knew everything about him,he was just a nice dude” you said almost sounding like you were describing chris.

“so he was me?” chris gives you a smile-the smile with his entire underbite showing.

you grin,blinking at him before jokingly hitting his face to the side.

“what about you? how many times has THE chris sturniolo been in love?” you asked looking at him with a smirk,you have an answer at the back of your mind because this conversation has 100% taken place before.

“alright this backfired real quick” chris mumbles under his breath with a scoff,his gaze turning away from you hiding a shy smile. you were beyond confused.

“WHAT? YOU DONT WANNA TELL ME?” you were shocked by his response,usually chris wants to tell you everything,and knowing that you both have definitely talked about this before, him not wanting to answer this question now bothered you.

“okay i’ll flash the numbers and you just stop me when you see the answer yeah?” to your words chris drops his face into his hands and groans slightly,like he is…embarrassed?

you hold up one finger in his face,to which he pulls his face out of his hands,looking at your hand and shakes his head in disappointment.

“you think i am at one?” chris spoke his voice cracking just a tiny bit

“okay i remember now-two” you were positive that thats what his answer was,because when you first became friends he did mention being in love twice

a small smile on his face as he fidgets with the straw on his drink,he shook his head again.

“no??? three people then!?” you screamed in his face

“DONT SAY IT LIKE THAT?” he replies with a frown

“can i get a list because i feel like im missing someone” you asked him genuinely curious because you definitely remember only the two .

“maybe later” chris hummed returning back to his fries with the small smile still on his face.

“three people huh?” you speak up again.

“i just- dont have a problem being in love with someone and not doing anything about it you know?” he shrugs like he didn’t just say something that made your heart curl up into a small ball in your chest,you cared about chris so much and you know what it feels like being in love with someone and not allowing yourself to do something about it,you try to think hard about who this woman could be because the other two women chris was in love with-he did make a move on,your frown growing with each passing second.

“oh-chris” your face fell,your hand reaches down to his lower thigh,rubbing it to console him.

“eh it’s whatever” he shrugs,his eyes plastered on your hand that is on him right now,he takes a sharp breath

“anyways” chris sighs,his eyes lower than before

“wanna smoke a joint with me?” he continues,with a smirk on his face.

a smile grows on your face,you nod.

taglist: @espressqe @ginswife @sturnsburna @carolina454 @hotgirlbl0gger @violetstxrniolo777 @riggysworld @verycoolmiyah @fadedstvrn @purpledreamertyphoon @mattsplaything @whore4chris @chris-halleluja @sl4ttformattsturniolo @annsx03 @mattsdemi @chrisslittleslut @chrislittleslut @poolover123 @luvvnai @chrissturniolossidehoe @pompomprrin @harmonysturniolo @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @soph-loren @ccsturns @lovesturni0l0s @chriss-slutt @wysmols @sturniolosluttt @mattsdillion @alyssa-sturn @herewegoagain-b @bilssturns @sturnobessed @mxnsonn @izzylovesmatt @sturniolosymphony @chrissturnioloswife88 @sxphiee3 @purpledreamertyphoon @whoreforchrissturnniolo @slutformatt17 @chrissturnsss @realuvrrr @sweetxcheeryx @sturnl0ve @estellesdoll @glitterybtch @courta13 @mattsbitchh @slvtf0rchr1s

[kxtsukixoxo]

pro!hero dynamight is known for his explosive nature, fans second guessing if they should really approach the hothead. is it really surprising when you aren’t scared of him?

𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦 ᥫ᭡ 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗩 ᥫ᭡ 𝗡𝗘𝗫𝗧

“goddammit.”

the pro hero never willingly attended meet and greets, he found it a waste of time. he could be out on patrol, or saving someone’s life instead of all this fan consumed ‘bullshit’ as he stated, but his rankings were decreasing faster than anything, and in order to keep his public image somewhat neutral, what’s better than interacting with his fans? 

katsuki handed out plushies to hundreds of kids that gawked at his hero suit, he’d be lying if he didn’t find their giddy smiles adorable, he counted down the seconds til this was over but it seemed to drag on end for hours.

“next!” 

you approached the man, jumping and all. katsuki looked at you confused, how could someone have this much energy? you were so enthusiastic about seeing him, you didn’t quiver or approach him with caution, you weren’t scared.  

“oh my god!! it’s really you!” you squealed as your hands covered your mouth, katsuki didn’t find it annoying, surprisingly. infact he found it cute, which surprised him more than anyone. 

“i have so many questions!!” you rambled away about all his huge rescues, the recent drug bust he helped the police with, fights with villains that not many people knew about. you knew everything about katsukis work, he couldn’t help but smile, finally being recognised for something other than his hotheaded nature or looks. he answered all your questions, in detail as you took down notes, muttering underneath your breath. 

you remind me so much of someone i know 

“h-huh” you stopped writing and looked at him. fuck. he didn’t mean to say that out loud. “it’s nothing, hey you’re holding up the line” 

“oh i didn’t even realise! i’m so sorry, ill get going then” 

“wait-“ katsuki grabbed your arm, realising what he had done, he let go, “how about i give you my number, we can sit down and chat hm?” 

the pro hero you’ve looked up to most of your life, just offered you his number. you’d be a fool to say no! 

“yeah that’s perfect!”

“it was nice meeting you.” 

“yeah, you too” you smiled at the blonde hothead, unable to control your happiness, you waved at him. he picked his hand up and gave you a subtle wave, chuckling at your burst of energy

•••

you waited in anticipation for his text. you figured it’d take awhile for him to text you, he was a busy man right? but to your surprise, he texted you no later than an hour after you left the meet and greet.

[** *** ****] is this the pretty girl who loves to ramble?

[nadvs]

the act of unravelling (part three)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

< prev

Being in Rafe’s truck again is like being thrown back into a bad dream you can’t wake up from. You remember every detail from that night, the smell of bleach, the ache in your bones.

He parked by the edge of the country club lot, and as he settles in his seat and shuts the door, he wraps both of you in privacy behind his tinted windows.

“What is it?” you ask, your voice cutting through the tension. Rafe rakes his hand through his hair. He seems nervous, a contradiction to the smugness you’ve gotten used to.

“You were right,” he admits. “Cops aren’t even sniffing around yet and people think it was me.”

You meet his eyes, the blue hue bright and striking. The night it happened, you’d only seen him through the dark. Now, in the daylight, he almost looks innocent. But then you remember the loudness of the gun and how angry he looked when he fired it.

“What happened?” you ask.

“Last night,” he begins, “a few of us were hanging out and people were talking about how something might’ve happened to him. This guy had his name in my mouth… said some shit about how they should probably ask me.”

You nod slowly, taking his words in. You expected as much. As someone who openly hated Porter, Rafe’s likely at the top of everyone’s list of suspects.

“What’d you do?” you say.

“I swung at him.”

You exhale defeatedly, looking up at the ceiling of his car. He’s such a loose cannon that for the first time since that night, you worry that he won’t be able to keep his mouth shut.

“Damn it, Rafe,” you complain. “And you were giving me shit for being obvious?”

His temper flares like a match thrown into a pool of gasoline.

“I’m not gonna sit there and let some asshole say that shit about me,” he mutters. “This is why we need to have our story straight, alright? If you even think about ratting me out, you’ll regret it.”

You tense up. So, this is why he so desperately needed to talk to you. You can’t believe you thought you could find any comfort in him.

“You don’t need to threaten me,” you say sharply. Rafe is taken aback by the confusion on your face. You look like you’d never even considered selling him out. But maybe you’re just a great liar.

“We said we’re in this together,” you continue. “Neither of us leaves the other, no matter how messy it gets. That’s the whole point of being each other’s alibis.”

Rafe sucks his teeth. You realize just how on edge he is about this. He was so comfortable the night it happened. Almost careless. Irritated at how anxious you were. Now, it’s like he’s spiraling.

“I won’t let this ruin my life,” Rafe mumbles. He huffs an unamused chuckle, looking out of the driver’s side window. “I’m not going to jail. I’m not…”

He trails into silence. You stare at his profile. The coldness you’ve always seen in him has been shadowed by a deep paranoia.

“I’m freaked out, too,” you admit. He looks at you again. “But this is only going to work if we trust each other. We need to stick to our story so well that even we start to believe it.”

He tilts his head, looking at you with skepticism, a wrinkle between his brows.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about screwing me over, Pogue,” he says. “You could say I did it and scared you into staying quiet.”

“Are you that paranoid?” you ask. “I won’t go behind your back. I promise. Even if it’s just a cover-up, we need to act like we’re friends now.”

Rafe gives you a once-over, the hardness in his face slowly fading.

“And don’t call me that,” you say. “You know my name.”

He breathes a real chuckle this time. Despite your better judgement, your heart flutters now that you’ve earned a smile from him.

“You’ll take it to the grave?” he murmurs.

“I will. You, too?”

“Yeah,” he says. He studies you again, realizing that you don’t have a guilty conscience at all. “You really don’t regret it.”

“No,” you state. The agony of reliving what Porter did to you hurts more than any sort of remorse you feel for taking his life.

Rafe is surprised to hear you don’t wish you could take what you did back. You’re as cold-blooded as he is. You might be the only person who comes close to understanding what it’s like being controlled by anger this intense.

“I just hate how I can’t stop thinking about if we left any evidence,” you say.

“Yeah.” He settles back, adjusting in his seat with ease, the tension between you dissipating. “We were rushed.”

You nod as you chew on your lip.

“At least nobody saw us,” you say. “And if the cops check our phones, they won’t find anything.”

“Good thinking to turn them off.”

Your face creases in surprise.

“What?” he says.

“Just throws me off when you’re not an asshole.”

He scoffs, his jaw tensing. But beneath the irritation, he wishes he could undo the way he’d spoken to you when you first got in the car.

It’s like his mind is speaking a different language to him when he feels any sort of shame. He usually tries to shut it up. When he looks at you again, he decides not to.

“I didn’t mean to… threaten you,” Rafe mumbles.

“Yeah, you did,” you say with a humorless laugh. “But I’m on your side here. Don’t forget that.”

You check your phone. You have plans to hang out with the guys after work and after what you put them through a few nights ago, you’d rather not leave them hanging again.

“I should go,” you say. “My friends are waiting on me.”

“Did you tell them the truth?”

“No,” you say. “This stays between you and me only. Trust me.”

Rafe stares at you, longer than he ever has before. It’s not anger in his face. Not worry, either. It’s something new. Vulnerability.

“I don’t trust anybody,” he says.

Your lips twitch into a frown. Even though this is a man who’s relentlessly teased you for your place in the classist system he seems to worship, your heart twinges in sympathy.

“Nobody?” you ask quietly.

He looks out the window again, tense and distant. He doesn’t say anything else.

“I have your back,” you reiterate to him. “To the grave, right?”

“Yeah,” he offers, not looking at you again. You exit his car, the confusing knot in your chest only tighter now.

·········

The police start knocking on doors a day later. When they come to yours, you do your best impression of a clueless nobody who just wants to help.

The lead on the case introduces himself as Detective Brading, settling in your living room like he’s been here before. He’s so confident that it’s intimidating.

You can imagine Porter’s wealthy family is doing everything they can to find out what happened. The man staring at you is likely the best of the best.

You’ve rehearsed your story so many times that it feels natural. The two men nod along as you lie to them about how you’d fallen asleep in the bedroom, how you’d woken up to him and Rafe arguing, how you convinced Rafe to leave with you.

Your parents stand close by, arms crossed. This is the most they’ve heard you speak in a long time. They hardly ever ask you anything about your life, so it feels odd to have their attention.

“We think you two might have been the last people to see him before he went missing,” Brading tells you. “Porter didn’t say anything about going anywhere?”

“No,” you answer. “Rafe and I left pretty quickly.”

The detective looks up at your parents with raised brows, asking them to give you a moment. When they leave, he leans a little closer.

“We know he deals drugs,” he murmurs. “And we know you bought from him. We’re not interested in getting anyone in trouble for that. We just want to know what happened to Porter. Is there anything you didn’t mention about that night in front of your parents? Be honest.”

“I fell asleep because I smoked too much pot,” you say quietly, looking back through the doorway your parents left through. It’s taking everything in you not to cry as you think about why you really lost consciousness in that room. “But I only ever bought that from him. He offered other things. Like cocaine. It’s why he and Rafe argued.”

It’s what you agreed on saying, but it still feels like you’re selling Rafe out. It’d be suspicious if you didn’t tell them this version of the truth, though.

The detective nods, clearly having been told this already. Your chest twists in unease as you think about Rafe’s name in everyone’s mouth, leading the cops to him. And possibly to you.

“How close are you to Rafe?”

“We've been talking more since I started my job at the country club,” you say. “We started hanging out a little bit ago. We’re friends.”

“Do you think he would’ve done anything to Porter?” Brading asks.

You meet his eyes, swallowing hard.

“No,” you say resolutely. “I don’t.”

·········

A man is missing and possibly, at this point, presumed dead. But that doesn’t stop Kooks from wanting to party.

You’re in the passenger seat as JJ drives to the north side of the island while John B and Pope talk in the back. You’re gazing out the window, watching the landscape go from dilapidated front yards to gated communities.

You’re heading to a party that you heard about from one of Porter’s friends and the way the police questioned you earlier today is spinning in your head.

“You good?” JJ asks.

You look over at your friend, flattening your lips together. You can never tell the whole truth, but you can offer bits and pieces.

“The cops told me they think I’m the last person who saw Porter before he disappeared,” you say. You can’t bring yourself to tell them the version of the story that includes Rafe yet. They’d never believe you. They’d judge you. “It’s kind of scary to think about.”

“My money’s on that he went on a bender,” JJ says. “Sampled his own product. Maybe even too much of it.”

“You think he overdosed?” you ask.

“More like Rafe offed him,” Pope chimes in.

“Is that what people are saying?” you ask, blood cold, turning back to look at him.

“It’s what I’m saying,” he answers. “The guy’s unhinged.”

You want to defend Rafe. To say he wouldn’t go that far. But it’d be suspicious. And a complete lie.

“It’s a small island,” John B says. “It’s only a matter of time before we find out what happened.”

You hope that’s not true.

·········

You make it to the house, reminding yourself over and over that you have to live as if you believe your own lie. You want to erase that night from your memory. Erase what Porter did to you.

You chug the first drink you can get your hands on. Your friends rib you for how quickly you down it. You blame it on a rough day at work.

Soon after, you’re at the keg, not even close to buzzed yet, but desperately needing to be. Discussing Porter with the cops today, pretending like he was just a dealer you had a few short conversations with, hearing that his family is concerned for his wellbeing made your pulse spike.

Does his family know what a monster he is?

You have to correct yourself.

Was.

“Slow down,” you hear.

Rafe towers over you, his eyes on your cup.

“What?” you shout over the music and conversations surrounding you.

“You’re on your second drink already.”

You look over your shoulder to make sure your friends don’t see you talking with him.

“I don’t even feel anything,” you reply sharply.

It’s a half-truth. Your sadness and anger are weighing heavy on your soul. That vile man took away your power, but you took it back, so you hate that you’re still so rattled by what he did. You just want peace.

“And why are you keeping tabs on me?” you ask.

Rafe stares at you, his lips just slightly parted. He can lie and say he wants to make sure you’re not setting yourself up to get hammered and potentially admit to someone what you did.

But the truth is he can’t stop thinking about you. And he doesn’t like seeing that look on your face, sad and absentminded.

He knows you hate him. He wishes he could hate you back.

“I need to be sure you’re not a liability,” he lies. “And people think we’re friends now, don’t they?”

You look over your shoulder again, anxious the guys will see you. You need privacy if you’re going to continue this conversation.

“Come on,” you say, dipping your hand in his, dragging him through the crowd. His palm is warm and soft and you don’t know what you were expecting, but the way Rafe feels is the opposite of it.

You open the first door you see, stepping into a narrow closet. You shut the door and switch on a light and suddenly he’s standing right over you, all breadth and intimidation.

Your heart races from the way you’d just touched him, from the way he’s just about pressed up against you right now. Something must be short-circuiting in your brain, because the fear you used to hold for him is entirely gone.

The attraction you’ve always felt is overpowering now. You can’t make sense of your own emotions.

“I haven’t told my friends our story,” you confess.

“What?” Rafe snips, his tone low.

“I can’t handle telling them right now, okay?” you say. You cross your arms. “I just said I was with a guy. Telling them that guy was you is… They’ll be so disappointed in me.”

“Disappointed,” he repeats with a scoff.

“Rafe, think back to every encounter you’ve had with us. All you’ve ever done is insult us. I don’t even want to think about how hurt they’ll be to hear I’m friends with you.”

“Who gives a fuck?” he mutters. “We need to make sure our alibi is solid. If the cops find out your friends don’t know we–”

“I’d tell the truth,” you say. “That I was worried about what they’d think.”

“I can’t believe you.” The thought of you being concerned about someone else’s opinion is ridiculous. “Why do you care so much?”

“They’re the only family I have,” you admit. It comes out before you even realize it. You look down, sighing. “You don’t get it. You’re like… an enemy to us. They know how shitty you treat me when I’m at work. Telling them–“

“How the hell do I treat you shitty?” he interrupts.

“I know that those tips are all a degrading show of how you’re so much richer and better than me,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like, then? Charity?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, his nostrils flaring. Charity isn’t the right word. He hides behind a forced ego, but he’s always wanted you. And through excessive tips and constant teasing, at least he can talk to you without risking the chance of you rejecting him.

You have him all wrong. He doesn’t think he’s better than you. He’s afraid you’re better than him.

“I’ll tell my friends, okay?” you say when he doesn’t speak. “But I talked to the cops today and they seemed convinced. We’ll be fine.”

“They talked to me, too. I can tell they think it was me.” There’s an almost imperceptible tremble in Rafe's voice. “Everyone thinks it was me.”

“Even your friends?”

“Yeah,” he says. If he can even call them friends. Hearing you call yours family made his jealousy flare. Envy is all Rafe ever feels. Like he’s missing the one thing that deems everyone else loveable.

But he’s hanging on how you said they’re your only family. He doesn’t have a family, either. Not really. Not one that cares about him. Maybe you understand him more than he thought.

“Well…” You clear your throat. “They can believe what they want. You can trust me that I won’t ever tell anyone what really happened.”

“Why?” he finally asks. “Why not just snitch on me, Pogue?”

“Because that night, I told you to do it and you did. The world is a better place without him in it. You did me a favor.” You uncross your arms. “And I told you to stop calling me that.”

Rafe clears his throat, giving in, remembering how you’d saved his life and offering a quiet sorry before he says your name.

It’s the gentlest you’ve ever seen him. It’s a shock to your system. You search his blue eyes in the dim of the closet as if you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to make a snide joke.

But he doesn’t. He just stares at you, his breaths shallow, and you rethink everything you thought you knew about him.

He’s violent and aggressive and condescending. But you don’t see that right now. You see a man who doesn’t seem to be able to believe that someone would want to protect him. Is that who he is behind all the bravado?

The world continues to turn on the other side of the door, music blasting, bass rattling, but time has stopped between you. He’s looking at you through low lids. Like he wants you.

You shouldn’t. Shit is already complicated enough. But what’s one more tangle in the string tying you together?

Your fingers are at the collar of his button-up, pulling him towards you, lips meeting with abandon.

Rafe kisses you back immediately, hungrily leaning into you, cupping your face. His heart is racing. He doesn’t know how or why this is happening, but he wants it so bad that it hurts.

Your mouths part and finally, you taste him against your tongue. It feels so right, like you were always meant to do this and were both too stubborn to.

His hands press tighter against your jaw. Fear floods you. You’re back in that bedroom. You pull back.

“Not so hard,” you say.

“Okay,” he whispers, his grip loosening. He stays hovering over you, nose nudging yours. “Just… please…”

You nod, tilting your head to kiss him again, his hunger for you palpable. You’re with Rafe again, not in that bedroom, but here with a man you want who listens to your wishes.

Your head is swimming with bliss as he kisses you, smelling like cologne and desire, every piece of you wanting him. Then, his hands drift down over the curves of your hips, pulling you flush against him.

And it’s too much. You’re back there again. Begging for it to stop.

“No,” you snap, both hands roughly pushing his chest.

Rafe hits the shelves behind him, his head radiating in pain from how hard he smacked against the wood.

“What the fuck?” he mutters. He was just living in a dream. Why the hell are you pulling him out of it?

“No,” you repeat breathlessly. “You can’t touch me like that.”

“Okay,” he groans. “I won’t. Jesus.”

He clutches the back of his head, wincing.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your throat raw. “I didn’t mean to push you that hard.”

“Why’d you even kiss me?” he says. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. You step towards him, trying to meet his eyes. “You can’t… I need you to ask before you touch me like that.”

His lips are glossy from the kiss, his face pinched in pain. You take a risk, gently placing your hands on his cheeks.

Rafe should be angry at you. But goddamn it, your touch feels so good that he melts. His gaze is heavy on yours, both of you breathing deeply, coming down from the sudden outburst.

“I didn’t mean to,” you repeat softly. “Just don’t take me by surprise. I can’t handle it.”

Rafe searches your face, silently asking for an explanation.

You shake your head, not having it in you to answer right now. Your goal tonight was to forget. Not relive. You pull him closer, and thankfully, he lets you.

Your lips are tender after you part, having lost count of how long you’ve been kissing.

Things just got so much more complicated. But you wouldn’t take it back. Not for a second. Nothing else makes sense right now, but having Rafe the way you always secretly wanted him is the one thing that does.

“Don’t fuck me over,” he says, a note of cynicism in his tone as his forehead brushes against yours. “No matter what happens, don’t fuck me over.”

“I won’t,” you promise.

·········

The next morning, you’re walking through the club hall towards the golf course to start your shift. You still can’t get the way Rafe’s mouth felt against yours out of your mind.

He kissed you like he’s been waiting to kiss you for ages. Like he felt lucky that he got to.

You’re about to step through the glass doors leading outside, but the sound of your name makes ice go through your veins. You know that gravelly voice.

You turn to see Detective Brading, his stare intimidating.

“You have a minute to talk?” he says.

You can tell by his tone that it isn’t a question.

next >

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[motianz]

Ok, listen, LISTEN

He Tian is a really complex character. He's been trying to escape the darkness that his family is involved in his whole life. But at the same time, he very clearly thinks he inherently has that "evilness" inside of him. (it's the simbolysim behind his "fear of the dark" and the reason he lists Mo not being afraid of the dark as one of the reasons he (ht) likes him)

And then, THEN, Mo guan shan shows up, and not only he sees that darkness and doesn't back down in front of it, but he also starts to care for Ht despite it being there.

So the thing that starts growing inside He Tian is the fear that this one person, this one boy who doesn't pull him deeper into the darkness (like his family (sorry He cheng i love you ) bringing him into the business) and KNOWS him as more then just that, will forget him.

That this side of him, that can be good and loved without ties of debt, will disappear alongside Mo's memory.

Then She Li shows up. He tian sees with his own eyes that he cannot protect his loved one without that darkness, and above all he can't freely protect him if that darkness isn't entirely his. This time when She Li attacked Mo he had to bargain for power with his brother to take SL down, so he faces the fact that he needs power and influence to keep Mo safe.

So there comes the sacrifice, he'll go away if he can save Mo. And while away, he'll conquer whatever he needs to make sure Mo never struggles again, so he will never need to leave again.

BUT here's the thing. Mo doesn't know all that, he only knows what HT has told him, Mo knows He Tian only ever expressed fear when 1 - Mo was in danger, 2 - When faced with the idea of being forgotten.

And after months of being loved, reassured, and having HT promise to give him the future of his dreams, months of letting He Tian in, he just disappears one day.

And suddenly Mo is in the position of being "left behind", forgotten.

So when HT comes back, this smug fucker who hurt him that bad, acting like nothing ever happened, Mo wants to pretend it doesn't matter. That he wasn't "the dumbass who got left behind", that it never hurt enough to still matter, years later.

And he also wants it to hurt He Tian back. So he says this.

He says it knowing it will hurt. If he could be left behind by Ht, he wanted he tian to be hurt by the fact that Mo could also forget him. And it does hurt, you can see it in HT's face, in the fact he has to turn it away.

But Mo does care for He Tian, we all know this. So as soon as he sees the result, Ht's hurt expression, the words "you're so cruel", as soon as he sees it actually hurt, he gets hurt as well. He feels the conflict that this situation would bring, the feeling of resenting someone you love, or/and hurting someone you love.

And finally, He tian can't stand it, he can't leave, can't let himself be forgotten by this precious person. So he goes back, he insists on "if you don't remember me ill stay until you do". It's a desperate need, a deep fear.

OX has always told their story in very subtle ways, the plot is always very spread out, and you have to pay attention to the words and details they put in the story. It's as frustrating as it is fun to read it lol, he tian going back and seeing Mo naked is a fun joke, but I do also think it's something that keeps his characterization and does somewhat progress the plot.

TLDR: Mo pushed ht away because he wanted to hurt him for leaving (and he knew how to really hurt him), but also got hurt/felt guilty for hurting someone he loves. Ht came back during the shower because he's scared to let Mo forget about him.

[miifu666]

I finally drew LMK wukong... while also making him yandere because uh.. i like yanderes, we need more yan!Wukong content pls 🙏🥹 anyway Heres my rendition of what yandere lmk sun wukong would be like.. maybe ooc, ive only watched season 1...

Also not proofread— At ALL

⋆˙⟡ — Cw : Yandere, Dub-con, ooc lmk Wukong?, art is wukong x oc but writing is Wukong x reader, not proofread.

I imagine Yan!Wukong to be the type who taunts you about his past actions, how feral and rebellious he was, able to defeat the entire heavenly army and scared the Jade emperor out of his wits just for existing in flower fruit mountain. This only happens when you disobey him ofc, you left the cabin? Denied his wants to feed you himself? Maybe its time to remind you who he is

" See how i was back then? I was a Savage, untamed even if i had that stupid crown around my head. You wouldn't want me to be like that now do you, Peaches? "

He's a sweetheart, Patience and Virtue is a thing he learned the most during his years of living. Yet, unpredictability is also his nature. Especially as a monkey king. There are times when he would tolerate you acting bratty, a bit Defiant is all fun, but when the day comes where he's fought too many Yaoguais, Demons, and Alike. All he wants is your comforting touch soothing him of his worries. The last thing he needs is your uncooperative attitude.

" Peaches... im not in the mood for this. Eat the food. Now. Ive been kind to you. It's either you eat the food or ill get rough."

Wukong is canonically someone who hasnt experienced any romantic nor sexual attraction, the moment he does. He doesn't have a clue on what to do. All he can think of is being in his monkey nature, which includes being possessive, territorial, dominating, and providing you with nutrients. He doesn't trust others enough to help him with his feelings, barely have the guts to ask Bajie if you're in a bad mood. He prefers to wait for others to give him advice (not that he'll take to account).

"MK doesn't know anything, he's a kid! He doesn't understand love like i do... like us adults do. Im doing this to PROTECT you, peaches!"

There might be times where he'll be more touchy than usual, conditioning you to feel comfort and used to his physical affection. Wukong is nothing but patient, he knows how to pavlov you into feeling relaxed once you feel his hands. You'll notice his punishments ranged from letting him groom you, mark you and finally letting him eat you out.

The euphoric bliss whenever he touches you or caught a whiff of your scent is tantalizing, Due to this, he prefers to be the one to serve you rather than you serving him. A king needs his Queen to bleed his heart into, not a concubine who perfoms.

" ah, ah ah~ Remember what i said? You either let me groom your pretty head or i might change things up a little..."

Wukong who gloats about the ring around your finger, making sure everyone. Even the heavens. Know, who you belong to. Theres no such thing as divine intervention, HE willed this fate, HE knit the red threads of fate till it spells your name. Theres an endless amount of love flowing through his heart for you, it seeps through timelines and past reincarnations. Even if your current life is done in this world, he'll continue on finding you. Binding you with him, gripping your heart so close till it beats in harmony with his. He'll make sure to leave an imprint of himself in your soul, even your future consorts needs to know him in order to understand you.

While you came from another world, your own destiny is temporary in his. Wukong will fight tooth and nails to defy the stars just to have you as his permanently. He'll create his own thread. His own happy ending with you.

And if theres anyone who dares to leak the rough details about your hostage love life... hes not known as the god of trickster for nothing

" if the moon and stars are reflection of the past, would they know how many lifetimes have i been loving you before our souls reconciled in this one?

Because i couldn't possibly have just learned to love you this much, all in this single lifetime"

Artwork ©️ Miifu666

Writings ©️ Miifu666

[yandere-daydreams]

Screening: Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978).

Pairing: Yandere!Carlisle Cullen x Reader (Twilight).

Word Count: 2.1k.

TW: Wildly Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Medical Malpractice, Blood, Controlling Behavior, Deliberate Social Isolation, Misuse of Prescription Drugs, and Generalized Twilight. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

It might’ve just been the isolation getting to you, but you were starting to think that your doctor wasn’t completely human.

Not that you’d ever say so out loud. At best, it was awful thing to think about a man who’d only ever been kind to you and, at worst, it proved yet another symptom to your ever-developing, ever-worsening illness had cropped up and would need further treatment to correct. You knew better than to say things that would make you seem more sick than you already were, but it was hard to stop yourself from lingering on the idea – especially considering you only had books, sleep, and his company to pass the endless time. Admittedly, it’d been a while since you’d seen another person, but you could’ve sworn he was paler than he should’ve been, to the point of bloodlessness. He never ate or drank around you, but sometimes when he spoke, the light would catch on his teeth in a way that made them look too sharp, too prominent. You might’ve been dreaming, but once, after you took your medicine but just before you fell asleep, you swore you saw him taking the cap off of the blood sample he’d taken a few minutes prior, like he planned to do something aside from—

You heard a door open and instantly, your paranoia was dismissed in favor of more interesting stimuli. In this case, that came in the form of your doctor, Carlisle Cullen, stepping into your bedroom, an inhumanly perfect smile already painted across his inhumanly perfect lips.

…maybe you should tell somebody about your little conspiracy. If only to be absolutely sure that you were really losing your mind.

“Good morning,” he said, and it occurred to you that you hadn’t thought to check the time, yet. Your life existed in three states: alone, asleep, and with Carlisle. Only that last one really mattered – the other two could easily be lumped into the same category helpfully labeled ‘waiting for Carlisle’s next visit’. “Have you been keeping yourself busy?”

“I’ve only been awake for a couple hours,” you explained, shrugging as he took his usual seat in the chair left next to your bed. He was always polite enough to ask about the boring details of your day, and you were always embarrassed enough to skirt around just how little you had the energy for. Most of the time, it was all you could do to pull yourself out of bed and yourself to eat before retreating back into your little safe haven. On a good day, you’d be able to go for a walk, maybe respond to a few of the calls you were constantly missing, but most days weren’t very good. “Reading, mostly. Thanks again for the recommendation.”

The book he’d lent you – a dry historical drama with characters as bland as water and a plot as boring as sin – sat open on your lap, but you’d only gotten through half a chapter before giving up. It was hard to believe Carlisle was only a few years older than you, sometimes. You couldn’t imagine how someone who seemed so young could have such awful taste.

Still, he looked pleased, his pleasantly aloof expression taking on a defined note of satisfaction. “It’s important to keep your mind occupied while your body’s recovering. You wouldn’t want to waste all of my hard work by letting yourself die of boredom, now, would you?”

“No, doctor.” It was stupid to try, but he’d set himself up for it. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself, your heart beating just a little faster as you grasped blindly for the impossible. “You know, there’s this friend of mine who keeps asking when she’ll be able to visit, and I thought it might help pass the time if—”  

“You’ll have to find a way to let her down.” Carlisle’s voice was smooth, calm. You did your best not to sulk, but still, he let out a labored sigh, only a touch too professional to roll his eyes. “It’s for the best. It’s good that you stay active, but you know what’ll happen if you overexert yourself, don’t you?”

Vaguely. It was hard to remember the details of your condition, and you weren’t in the mood for another lecture. “I do, doctor.”

“And you’re going to behave your check-up, aren’t you?”

“I am, doctor.”

“And that’s why you’re my favorite patient.” Your compliance was rewarded with a beaming smile, an appeased nod as he pulled his old-fashioned leather doctor’s bag into his lap. “We better make good on that promise before you change your mind, then.”

You didn’t protest. Honestly, you didn’t say much of anything. You never talked during your exam, preferring to let Carlisle go through the necessary motions with as little interference as possible. Instead, he filled the silence with mindless chatter about his children and how they were doing at the local public school, the hospital’s ongoings since you were unofficially discharged, and your favorite – Forks’ particularly colorful smalltown gossip, from the sheriff’s wayward daughter moving back into town to the spike in bear sightings on the local hiking paths. “It’ll be a busy week,” he mentioned, as he finished taking your blood pressure. “You might have some unexpected company, after all.”

At that, you perked up. You met nearly all of Carlisle’s assistants (medical students, you guessed, judging by their ages) by now, and even if you didn’t care for all of them, it was still nice to see someone other than him. Your least favorites were the dark haired twins – the wiry boy who always seemed to be biting back a smirk and the pixie-like girl who always acted like she knew something you didn’t – and you were particularly fond of the blonde girl… Rosemary, or maybe Rosaline. She was nice, compassionate, kind enough to keep you company even when Carlisle wasn’t in the room. More importantly, she brought interesting books – romance and horror, novels like Dracula and Carmilla and Interview with a Vampire, always handing over with a sweet smile and a hushed reminder not to let Carlisle know she was breaking his rules. Looking back on it, you probably shouldn’t have accepted anything she tried to give you. You would’ve hated for her to get in trouble just because she was trying to be nice.

Rather than voicing your overwhelming bias, you watched intently as he slipped the loose cuff off of your arm, tucking it back into his bag and removing something else, something long and silver and sharp. Immediately, your gaze shot back to your lap, your throat going dry in an instant. The next time you managed to spit something out, it was nearly too quiet to be audible. “…is there any chance we could, uh, I don’t know,” You paused, shrunk into yourself. “…skip the phlebotomy, this time?”

Carlisle’s answer was as swift as it was ruthless. An airy laugh, a jagged twist to this smile as he took up the needle properly and turned it over in his hand, looking for defects. It was already attached the glass syringe and, even worse, an empty vial; just a touch bigger than you remembered it being, the day before. “And take that kind of risk? How little do you think of me, (Y/n)?”

“It’s not you, it’s just—I already feel a little faint, and you take one every day, and—” You cut yourself off, inhaling sharply. “I just don’t know if it’s really necessary. Considering how careful you are and everything.”

“You’re right, I am careful. Which is exactly why I have to do this each and every time I come to see you.” He sighed, shook his head – suddenly more of a patronizing, paternal figure than any kind of medical professional, let alone peer. ��You understand, don’t you? Without regular testing, your condition may worsen, and if you get any sicker than you are now…” You stiffened as he trailed off, bracing yourself. You knew what came next, what always came next.

“You’ll have to go back to the hospital, angel.”

It was strange, how a voice as smooth and as beautiful as his could be so difficult to listen to.

You didn’t like Carlisle. You hated his condescending smile, his repetitive rambling, his terrible taste in books and his creepy little students. You hated how little he let you do, how he talked about your illness – always skirting around the details, never giving you enough information to know whether you were on the verge of dying or a few days away from making a full recovery. No, when you were honest with yourself, you didn’t like him. Hated him, even.

But you couldn’t go back to the hospital, with its blank white walls and sobbing patients and strange, mind-altering drugs that put your sleep and made you feel like someone was biting into your throat. It’d been a miracle when Carlisle first told you about his domestic services, when he offered to have you discharged in exchange for only the promise that you wouldn’t seek care that didn’t come from him. Arrangements were made, your rent and bills taken over by some nameless, faceless local charity, and for the first time in months, you got to go home. You could live with Carlisle and his once weekly, now daily check-ups. You could live with the fact that you didn’t remember the last time you’d gotten to make a decision for yourself.

And, if you had to, you could live with paying for your freedom in blood, too. As long as it meant you didn’t have to go back to that terrible place.

Once again, you didn’t say anything, but you didn’t resist as he sighed and ran a sterilizing pad over your forearm, the antibiotic strong enough to burn. You clenched your eyes shut, but that did nothing to block out the feeling of a thin elastic band being wrapped around the crook of your elbow, of his needle pushing through your skin and burrowing into the vein underneath it. There was a second of pressure, of knotted soreness, and then, the syringe was gone and you were left feeling just a little colder, just a little more empty than you had before.

Even after opening your eyes, you kept them trained on your lap. You easily could’ve spent the rest of his visit in silence, but metal clinked against glass as he rushed to cap his vial and suddenly, you needed to hear the sound of your own voice. “I think I might be getting paranoid,” you managed, with a breath of a laugh. “For a few minutes this morning, I was able to convince myself that you were… I don’t know, an alien studying humanity, or something.”

“If I was, I’m sure that I would still pick you as the best possible specimen for my examination.” It was hollow comfort, but you smiled anyway, nodding along. Your medication came next, in the form of a small, chalky white pill that you still struggled to swallow under Carlisle’s vigilant gaze. You managed to choke it down, though, and as always, the effects were instant; a sudden clearness, blankness, followed shortly by an exhaustion so thick and so heavy, you couldn’t remember what it’d ever felt like not to be tired. You tried to hold yourself up, but faltered – buckling under your own weight. Carlisle chuckled as he caught you, helping you lay down with a soft squeeze to your shoulder, a feather-light kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep, angel. It’s good for you.” And then, his grin still pressing into your scalp. “And try not to dream about vampires, this time.”

So he did know about Rosalie’s books. Pouting, you shrunk into yourself, letting him drag the comforter over your abruptly immobile body as your eyes eased shut, as he pulled away – a vial of your blood still warm in his hand. It would’ve been impossible to stop yourself from falling asleep, but you managed to stave off unconscious long enough to watch him remove the vial’s carefully applied seal, to unscrew the air-tight cap with the kind of tenderness you’d only seen him use while taking your temperature or petting his fingers through your hair after he thought you were already too far gone to remember. He did a lot of things when he thought you weren’t looking, didn’t he? You’d never really noticed that, before.

Through your eyelashes, you watched him bring the vial to his lips before everything went dark.

[chaostudee]

i love you i'm sorry part three, charles leclerc + jude bellingham.

summary : y/n and charles tease the public on their relationship for awhile but in an after match interview jude spills all. faceclaim : cindy kimberly a/n : hope you like it <3 i spent so long trying to edit those wings onto her omgg 😭😭 also sorry i haven't been posting school is actually rly taking up most of my time rn but u will try to be more consistent xx

charlesleclerc the best weekend with the best of company

liked by y/nusername, landonorris, carlossainz and 4,728,920 others.

carlossainz do you mean me or y/n??

user829 YES YES THIS IS WHAT WE WANT TO KNOW

username_78 BAHAHA CARLOS f1fan proof we all just want to know whether they are back together or not

user627 i spot y/nnn

user11 race was crazyyyy

f1lover YES NO ONE IS TALKING ABOUT IT user52 the overtake into turn one by charles 🤯

justaninchident jude is fuming rn

y/nusername austin gp 🏎🏁

》 ughh imagine this being your camera roll

》 MOM AND DAD

》 stopppp

》 DON'T PLAY WITH ME Y/N

》 tweaking rn

》 this whole love triangle is so messy but i love it 🙈

y/nusername ig dreams do come true 🫠🪽🌸

liked by charlesleclerc, kikagomez, haileybieber and 8,516,718 others.

user728 MOTHER

username_15 oh i fearrr this is the best thing everrrr

haileybieber had the best time with you <33

y/nusername love u smm sweet girl

user891 omggg you don't know how much this means to me so so so proud of you y/n !!! you deserve this sm 🫶

y/nlover charles supporting her was the so sweet and his smile when she walked past i can'tttt

user007 omggg frrr i was screaming and kicking my feet

user52 i shed a tear

username11 the most deserving x

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

messages between charles and y/n

what are we doing charles y/n

wdym charles

yk what i mean y/n

we're having fun charles

😒 y/n

what do u want me to say charles

forget it y/n

no seriously tell me charles

i want to get back together y/n

espn

liked by justaninchident, user627, username_78 and 562,920 others.

user627 WHAT WHAT

f1fan y/n rly hurt him

username lets be real y/n never actually wanted him i'd say she just used jude to make him jealous

user72 omggg wtff did y/n do to him

username700 there is no way charles and y/n can be happy about this

f1lover poor guy

user42 the media just love to create drama so typical

y/nusername

》 so so gorge

》 we need fit details girl !!

》 the prettiest girl

》 charles defo took this pic

judebellingham having a gf is overrated anyway.

liked by footballfan2, user62, f1lover and 3,829,331 others.

user729 oof

username okay king speak your truth 🙌

user627 FIRST THE INTERVIEW AND NOW THIS OMG

f1fan frrr like pop off jude

user41 whatt is going onnn

username47 this has gotten so messy omds

f1lover caption is crazyyy

anon y/n is overrated anyways

username11 side note jude us hot asff

y/nusername photoshoot with vogue.

liked by charlesleclerc, judebellingham, lilymunihe and 527,929 others.

user62 im drooling

username92 i'm so jelly of charles and jude

f1fan MOTHER !!

user51 oh she ate and she devoured

username00 and she left no crumbs

user72 care to comment on what jude said about you??

username wtff this acc none of your business leave her alone

user182 our unbothered queen

username52 vogue is a y/n stan, as they should be

charlesleclerc great weekend ! thanks to all the fans for coming out, always appreciate your support now onto the next one.

liked by y/nusername, carlossainz, landonorris and 1,201,722 others.

username72 charles back on the podium oh yesss

user47 so ready for next week !!

f1fan amazing performance charles we love youuuu smm

username31 missed y/n at the paddock this weekend

user52 ugh me too f1lover i think she had a photoshoot this weekend sadly

f1user ferarri are so going to win the constructors

user42 no MCLAREN

username66 charles cooked this weekend

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between jude and y/n

do uuu sthill uve me jude

oh god are u drunk y/n

drunk? me plssss you are sooo crazyyywy jude

tell me your location and ill get charles to pick you up y/n

i don't want charless silly i want you baby jude

jude pls don't we broke up it's over between us y/n

i can't just let you go jude

you have to y/n

y/nusername back with my angel boy

liked by charlesleclerc, rebeccadonaldson, lewishamilton and 826,920 others.

user828 GIRL JUST TELL US ARE U BACK TOGETHER WITH CHARLES OR NOT

username stop teasing usss i'm annoyed noww

f1fan awww leo and y/n

username12 the flower clip is so adorbs i need

user142 mom and son back together finally

username00 now we just need mom and dad 😭❤️

f1lover oh how i love y/n

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

judebellingham just wanted to come on here to apologize on my behaviour on here and with the media over the past few weeks. i also apologize to y/n and charles. jude.

user738 NOOO THE PR TEAM GOT TO HIM

user00 rip to unhinged jude u will be missed

f1fan the way i giggled

user72 this cant be real 😭😭

username27 oh shit he fucked up baddd

user11 plsss

username662 someone's manager is not happy

f1lover he was angry god let him live

y/nusername felt pretty.

liked by charlesleclerc, haileybieber, oscarpiastri and 1,616,022 others.

charlesleclerc the things i want to do to you....

user72 BEING HORNY ON THE MAIN IS CRAZZYY username22 omggg charlesss wtfff f1fan screaminggg user00 oh we are so back user133 ladies and gentlemen charles leclerc

user61 holy lord

username78 most gorgoeus woman on earth

f1lover y/n is so stunning oml

user82 WE BREATHE THE SAME AIR?!?!

user90 *sighs*

charlesleclerc i'm so lucky.

liked by y/nusername, carlossainz, oscarpiastri and 2,231,824 others.

y/nusername we're lucky*

user72 stopp they are so cute i could cry

username let's hope they are endgame this time

user23 yesss i need them to get married

f1fan will forever love them

user62 just going to go lay down on the highway brb

username12 so not jelly so not jelly :)

f1lover 💗💗

taglist⭑.ᐟ

@lottalove4evelyn

@mxryxmfooty

@hadidsworld

@llando4norris

@sweetestgirlintown111

@depressedriches

@love2readd

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@heavy-vettel