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#when wolves knock
nerosdayinanime · 1 year
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as much as i love his design i fucking CANT draw his expressions as exaggerated as i want to an its v frustrating
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yandere-writer-momo · 4 months
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Thinking about a Yandere vampire. Specifically, the beautiful kind that shape-shift into giant, humanoid bat creatures. The hopeless romantic vampire who cannot forget his human lover when he was once human…
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Yandere Vampire who was oh so thrilled when you knocked at his door and shivered on his steps. What a scrumptious morsel you were! So soft and tender looking… he couldn’t wait to eat you. Your tears fell as you babbled about how you were thrown off your horse that was spooked by a pack of wolves and you ran towards his manor in hopes of safety. You were simply out looking for your lover. You were lucky to escape those damned werewolves! Those mangy mutts always laid their paws on most of the prey around here… which made you all the more scrumptious.
Yandere Vampire who invited you into his humble abode and ushered you into his living room to warm up at the fire. You couldn’t help but feel suspicious of his overly friendly smile and his incessant touching. Why did he dress up like he was from the Victorian era? And his accent was so thick… was he Romanian perhaps?
Yandere Vampire who gives you a fresh set of clothes and tells you that he has a spare room in the west end of the manor. You’re very grateful to him and even give him a soft smile that caused his chest to stir. When was the last time he’s had pleasant company? He couldn’t remember since it’s been so many years since a meal came to him…
Yandere Vampire who found himself sitting beside you as you asked him about his life. He was flattered that you showed interest in him. He didn’t find himself that interesting of an individual since he’s spent a millennium alone. Yet you seemed so happy to hear about his hobbies and book collection. The way your eyes sparkled and your cheeks flushed made him miss the days he was once human… but he could not let your human innocence enrapture his lonely heart. He must feast on you. It’s the way of living after all. No matter how strikingly similar your appearance was to the love his life.
Yandere Vampire who begins to feel more hesitant when you laugh and smile. Your mannerisms were so similar to a lover he had when he was human… it couldn’t be, right? There was no way they had returned to him… he was a monster now.
Yandere Vampire who sneaks into your room when you’re fast asleep. You were completely oblivious to the way his cold hands roamed your body as he dragged his fangs across your delicate neck. He’d make your death quick and painless… yet he couldn’t help but want to check to see if you really may be a reincarnation of his lover. What if you were? Would you be able to love him again?
Yandere Vampire who choked back a sob when he found a birthmark on your skin that was the same as his dead lovers. They were back to him… at long last, he wouldn’t be alone!
Yandere Vampire who leaves your room in a hurry in a cloud of black smoke. The vampire rushes to his room so he can stand on his balcony. His pale hands grab the metal rails as his body sprouts white fur and white bat wings spring from his back. He needed to feast but he wouldn’t feast on you. No, never you… his beloved.
Yandere Vampire who raids a nearby village and savagely feasts. He needed to build up his strength so he’d be able to turn you into a vampire as well! He couldn’t lose you again… not when he finally had you in his possession once more. He wondered if you’d remember him if he showed you all the portraits he had painted of you over the years.
Yandere Vampire who began to fantasize of all the ways he’d make love to you. Of how he’d litter your body with bite marks and bruises so you’d always have his ownership on you. Gods it made him breathless imagining being with you in this monstrous form. He wondered if yours would be more beautiful than his… he could hardly contain his excitement!
If only he was aware that you had a lover already who was his sworn enemy… a werewolf.
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highdefhoetry · 1 year
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tags: NSFW!!! female reader, MMF threesome, penetration (penis in vagina), unprotected sex, possessiveness, jealousy, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, cream pies, dirty talk, big dick, size kink, size difference, hair pulling, biting, marking
summary: sequel to this fic. gojo and toji fight over who fucks you better.
word count: 1,441
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The knock had been a warning. Satoru Gojo had no intention of waiting for you to answer, nor did he have any intention of letting Toji Fushiguro take what was rightfully his. Not after what he’d just heard. He kicks open the door and waltzes inside without so much as a greeting. Hands in his pockets, lips curled into a smirk.
Your heart pulses steadily as the two giants stare you down, devouring your nude body with their piercing eyes as you stand before them completely bare. Gojo on your left. Toji at your right. You back presses against the cold wall as you suddenly find yourself cornered by two powerful men that didn’t know how to share. Both tower over you at their massive heights, like two rabid wolves leering at their prey.
Satoru rips the dark blindfold off his face, shoves it in his pocket, gazes deeply into your eyes as his sparkling cerulean blues drink up the sight of your nakedness. Something within them, wild and untamed, threatening to break loose. 
“What a naughty girl you are, (Y/N). Shacking up with a loser like him, when I’m the only one you need.” Gojo says as he takes your hand in his, planting soft kisses on the inside of your wrist as he looks down at you with big, doe eyes. “You’re breaking my heart.”
You feel his right hand on the side of your neck, caressing the sensitive skin before sliding upwards, his fingers intertwining themselves in your hair. A flurry of breathy gasps fall from your lips.
Toji is a bit more aggressive. Displeased, he seizes your other arm, snakes his free hand around your back to rest on your waist, pulls you towards him with viscous strength. 
“Don’t be stupid, (Y/N),” he growls into your ear after dragging his teeth up your neck. “Remember who you belong to.”
Your heart races as their battle continues.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Gojo wraps his big hand around the back of your neck, yanks you back to him so he can kiss and nibble your ear in between whispered threats. “You’re mine, (Y/N).”
Toji snarls at his nemesis, bares his teeth like a savage beast as if preparing to tear apart this trespasser who has stepped into his territory.
“Back off, brat.”
“Get bent, old man.”
You feel yourself being pulled backwards onto the bed. They toss you down on your back like a ragdoll, pin your arms and legs down with their long limbs. Both men on either side. Your heart pummels your chest, thumping so loud you can barely hear your own breath while your eyes dart back and forth from Gojo’s wide smile to Toji’s deep frown.
“Well, (Y/N)?” Gojo smiles as he strokes your hair. “Let’s show him all the cute little noises you make whenever you fuck me."
You feel his large, weathered hand drift down your side, stopping to caress your hip before resting on the top of your thigh. His soft movements make you writhe in pleasure, fueling Toji’s anger. 
“Not before we show this stupid brat how hard I can make you cum,” he grumbles in a deep, gravelly baritone. Somehow he regains his dominance, forces himself into a position on top while Gojo is pushed to the side. He balls his fists in your hair, yanking your head to the side, allowing him full access to your vulnerable neck. You feel his rough, calloused hand squeezing your breasts while his mouth sucks on your skin so hard it leaves red marks. And once you’ve been warmed up, he pushes his fingers inside you. One at first, then two, both curling upwards in search of that spongy spot that makes you scream. He finds it in seconds, grinning wickedly as he watches your entire body tremble with pleasure. You feel yourself cum all over his fingers, letting out high-pitched shrieks as your orgasm sends shockwaves through your body. 
He pulls out his finger and licks them clean, savoring the taste of your juices. 
“That’s my girl…” he croons.
As you lay there panting heavily, skin dampened with sweat, your eyes turn to Gojo. He patiently waits for Toji to finish, donning a terrifyingly serene smile. Then, in one swift and graceful motion, he takes control, shoving his way to the top so his hands can work their magic. Toji disappears into your peripheral as Gojo strokes the undersides of your breasts, the sensitive areas he discovered during one of the nights you’d spent together. His touch is electric, like lightning. You whimper as his fingers trail down your sides, ghosting the tender skin on your hips and inner thighs.
“He's so aggressive with you,” Gojo complains in a lighthearted tone, teases your clit with one finger, circles around the hood while he relishes the way you arch your back and whimper. “You prefer a much gentler touch. Right, baby?”
He cups your cheeks in his hands, runs a thumb across your bottom lip. You feel his desperate lips press against yours, and invite his tongue inside to dance. He kisses your jaw, drags his lips down your neck. His tongue flicks your skin, making you cry out with every little taste of you he steals. 
"There we go," he smiles into his kiss, making you shudder with his words. "Cum for me, baby."
Your second orgasm comes just as easily as the first. Gojo’s fluttered words, the gentle teasing on your clit, and the delicate touch of his hands on your chest bring you over the edge. He coaxes out your orgasm, grinning madly as he watches you unravel. Your throat feels raw from the constant cries of pleasure both men have been forcing out of you, yet your moans do not cease. 
Neither men allow you any respite. A pair of forceful hands take hold of you, pulling you on top of a pissed off Toji who is now laying on his back in the bed. He yanks down his boxers, reveals his throbbing, pulsing cock. Before you can utter a sound, he lifts you up, then sets you down with your hole slowly taking him in. You throw back your head and moan, hearing your voice crack as your wall clench tightly around his dick. He lets out a deep, rugged moan that sounds like the bellow of an animal. His hands remain on your waist, controlling every one your movements. You hold onto his hands for dear life, digging your nails into his skin as you squeeze your eyes shut and feel yourself overcome with pleasure.
Meanwhile, Gojo climbs behind you, his own boxers long discarded somewhere on the floor. He grabs your hips while you’re in the air, stealing you from Toji once more, then shoves his own cock inside of you without warning. The sudden feeling of his massive dick inside you almost makes you cry. Now in doggy position, you surrender to him and sink your nails into Toji’s shoulders, bracing yourself while Satoru Gojo slams into you again and again and again.
They take turns stealing you, pumping their dicks in your tight hole as you whimper and cry for more. Toji ends up finishing first; you sit on his cock one last time and throw back your head as you feel his warm cum fill you up. You clench your walls around his pulsing dick one last time, and don’t release him until he’s completely empty. And while he lays limp on the bed, Gojo grabs your hips once more, caring not for the thick white cum leaking out of your pussy. He shoves himself inside, reclaims your hole as his. His strokes are quick, yet deep. He’s thrusting so fast you see stars, the corners of your vision going fuzzy. When he finally cums, you feel that same warmth spreading through your body and let out a sigh of relief. You’re panting like hell, sweating bullets as you gasp for air. 
You collapse onto the bed, and Gojo follows suit. Sandwiched between the two, you take a moment to catch your breath and still the rapid beating of your heart. You feel two sets of hands exploring your body, caressing your tender breasts and stomach, stroking your hips and thighs. Gojo buries his face in your neck, kissing it softly. Toji grabs your chin and pulls your face towards his for a kiss. 
“(Y/N)...” Gojo murmurs in one ear. “Say it. Say that you’re mine.”
“(Y/N),” Toji growls into the other. “Be a good girl and tell me who you belong to.”
You start to speak, but all that comes out is a fluttered sigh.
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@oatmealdrool @magalimachete @heartbroken-whoore @freebananabeard @niname-sensei hope u enjoyed <3
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werecreature-addicted · 11 months
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multiple werewolf boyfriends…
all in heat , rut , whatever it is …
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You wake up with sharp teeth gently grazing over your thighs, you groan sleepily, you consider going back to sleep, then he bites you hard and you're fully awake. there's a bite mark on your leg... the first of many to come.
Usually, your pack is pretty good at sharing. it helps that you're willing to use your mouth and hands, letting you please as many wolves as possible. The biggest problem is that when they're in heat like this they want to breed you. it's not as satisfying to cum in your ass as it is to unload in your cute human pussy.
They argue back and forth about who's going to be the father once you get knocked up, but at least they aren't snapping at each other like they do when they're fighting about who gets to fuck you next.
Mmm imagine having your legs spread wide while two werewolves both try to fit their big heads in between your thighs at the same time, both of them straining their tongues to lap at your pretty pussy and snarling for the other to back off while they try and eat your cunt.
Between the whole pack, you don't get any time to rest for a long time, and when you do get some time to yourself you're too exhausted to do anything but sleep. At least there's a lot of people to help take care of you in the aftercare.
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fantastic-nonsense · 9 months
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Things Kaz canonically does in the two years between Crooked Kingdom and Rule of Wolves:
(presumably) massively expands the Dregs' territory
buys Pekka's old club (the Emerald Palace) and completely renovates it, turning it into The Silver Six
massively expands the Crow Club to the point where it's "three times the size of every other establishment on the block"
builds an underground tunnel that goes from the Crow Club to the Geldstraat, where the Van Eck Mansion is
takes Jesper out on jobs with him often enough that Wylan has jokingly banned Jesper from answering the door when he knocks
learns about Ketterdam's Suli laborers and picks up additional knowledge of Suli culture
keeps up with Inej's whereabouts and helps her take out slavers
expands his information network to the Kerch colonies
is on friendly enough terms with the King of Ravka that he taught Nikolai how to pick locks and Nikolai feels comfortable personally writing him a letter when he needs to steal the titanium from Kerch
disguises himself just to follow people around on the streets
was planning to steal the titanium from the military base anyway just for fun
And that's just the stuff we see from Nikolai's and Zoya's incredibly limited perspectives during their Ketterdam sidequest
I 100% agree with Zoya when she thinks that "maybe Kaz was like Nikolai, a boy with an unquiet mind, a man in perpetual need of challenge" because ROW makes it so obvious that Kaz is bored and incredibly restless in his success. Someone get our boy a new life's purpose and a subscription to a long-running unsolved mystery podcast stat
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charliemwrites · 10 months
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Good morning! This is just a warm up, not canon to the series.
Anyway — bark, woof, awoo
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It’s a cool fall day when you nearly die.
Johnny’s run off into the woods barking - not his scary bark but his excited bark. You’re worried that he’s gonna get his teeth in some poor local wildlife and go hurrying after him, boots unlaced.
Of course it’s hopeless to go chasing after a wolf-dog even running at half speed, but you can’t stand the thought of him coming home with a dead bunny or something. So off you go, clomping through the trees, calling for your big dumb fluffy butt to come home.
But it’s not your Johnny that comes trotting out of the trees. No, it’s an even bigger, wolfier looking dog. Creamy white fur, honey gold eyes, and odd black markings around the face like a skull. You instantly know he’s not like your goofball, a little less human-friendly, perhaps more feral. Looks at you like he’s trying to decide if you’d make a decent meal.
Is someone breeding them and just.., letting them out?? Some weird poorly thought out attempt to reintroduce wolves to the UK? The thought makes you frown, praying that you won’t come out here one day to find some poor pups struggling in the wilderness.
For now though, you’ve got yet another gorgeous animal in front of you.
“Well, hello,” you coo, softening and smoothing your voice. His ears tick forward. “Look at you, handsome thing. Have you seen my Johnny boy?”
The dog tilts his head - your first indication that he is familiar with humans, recognizes the tone of a question. You hum.
“Alright big guy, would you like to come with me to find him or are you doing your own thing?”
He doesn’t respond (of course) except to make a little “ruff” noise. You consider him for another moment, then decide he’s not being aggressive and it’s safe to continue your search.
You turn and continue on the path, calling for Johnny. Don’t get far before your new friend sweeps in front of you, blocking the way forward. You make a noise as you stop quick, nearly losing your balance to avoid stepping on his paws.
“Oh you big jerk,” you huff. He instantly starts pushing at you, big shoulders pressing against your stomach as he shoves a big, wet nose into your neck and face, focusing on your mouth. You roll your eyes and gently push his nose away.
“Knock it off,” you grumble, trying not to laugh. “You wolves are so rude. You don’t need to do that to smell me.”
He moves on to your clothes, all the way down to your crotch. You’re ready this time though, taking a big step back and guiding his face up by the chin.
“No.”
He snorts and shakes off, looking almost annoyed.
“Oh, yeah, how dare I not let you sniff my junk?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Grow up, you big baby.”
A deep, raspy grumble starts up in his chest. You ignore him, patting at the thick muscle of his shoulder.
“Yeah yeah, you’re a big scary boy,” you joke. “Ya gonna bite me? Show me your big pretty teeth?”
When you reach for his face he takes a step back, ears flicking. Looks almost shellshocked. You finally break, giggling as you croon baby noises at him.
“Oh, poor boy, did I spook you? I’m sorry, baby. No, no you’re very scary. Very intimidating.” You start scooting around him, amused how curves around you almost like he’s afraid you’re going to touch him. “It’s okay, buddy, I just need to find my boy. I’m not out to get you.”
As if on cue, Johnny comes bursting from the trees. He barks when he sees you, then almost comes up short when he realizes the other dog is there.
You become acutely aware that you’re not all too sure how Johnny will respond to another dog - especially one so close to you given his protectiveness. You instantly move between them, calling his attention.
“There you are, Bonnie Johnny! Where have you been?! Naughty boy, you better not have eaten anything fluffy.” His ears go back, a little whine starting up. He ducks his head to let you grab at his muzzle, inspecting him for anything gross. “I do not feel like wrangling you to brush your teeth.”
Luckily, he seems clean. Whatever had him so excited, he must not have caught.
Movement behind you catches your attention, the other dog loping closer. Your eyes bounce between them, watching body language for any aggression or hostility. To your relief, Johnny seems almost excited by this new friend - the other one… well, he seems a bit more subdued, but lets Johnny lick at his chin and bump into his side.
“Okay, ready to head home, baby boy?” you ask, giving Johnny’s collar a gentle tug. “I have to start making dinner.”
He whines, turning those big blue eyes on you and positioning himself behind the other dog. You groan.
“Johnny, really… I don’t know if I can handle two of you. I don’t even think he likes me very much.”
As if to spite you, the other dog sits and leans in, licking at your hand. And damn it, it’s cute.
“Alright, hold on, let’s just see if…”
This time, the other dog lets you touch, feels around his neck for a collar that unsurprisingly isn’t there. You feel around his shoulders too, hoping for that tiny bump that means he has a microchip, but nope.
“If I have a nickel for every time I found a wolf-dog in the woods…” you sigh, turning back for home. “It would be two nickels but it’s weird that it happened twice.”
When you notice both pups stalling, you whistle sharply.
“Come. It’s getting cold.”
Johnny instantly bounds ahead with excitement while your new companion is slightly slower, staying just a bit behind and to the side of you so that you can see him from the corner of your eye.
Back at home, Johnny leads the way inside. The strange dog looks around curiously, sniffs at a few spots. It’s then that you remember Johnny marking the house his first couple days and notice that Mystery Dog is also unaltered.
“Hey.” Both dogs turn to you. You point at the new one sternly. “If you pee on anything in here - anything - I’m dying you pink. By god I’ll do it, there are dog safe hair dyes.”
You get a sneeze for that and he walks away with disinterest, but at least he keeps his leg down. You’ll take it.
Dinner is interesting, no fussing or fighting over food from either of them. When they’re done, you retire to the couch, Johnny happy to follow up until he sees that his new friend isn’t coming as well.
He starts yipping, bouncing, bowing, trying to get the new one to follow. You’re amused up until Johnny nips and the bigger dog growls, showing teeth. You plant yourself instantly between them.
“Hey.” You look the new dog in the eye, get into his space and back him away from Johnny. “No the hell you’re not.”
The new dog stares, eyes locked on yours, ears swiveling. You don’t back down, watching and looking waiting, still bodily between him and Johnny. Until finally his ears go back and he sneezes, laying down.
“Good.” You soften your voice, sigh. “Good boy.”
You offer your hand. Get a sniff and a resigned lick, then scratch at your new boy’s ears.
“You be nice, big boy. Everyone in this house is mine. I take care of everyone.”
His eyes do a weird thing then. You’re not sure how to describe it, combined with the way his head tilts. But you just chalk it up to Weird Dog Things and finally return to the couch, an oddly subdued Johnny clambering up with you.
“You can join us, honey,” you call to the other dog. “You’re welcome up here if you behave.”
He doesn’t take you up on it for awhile. You and Johnny settle in for your usual nightly shows. And then, about an hour later, movement draws your eye. The Mystery Dog, standing at the edge of the couch with his tail down, ears neutral.
Earlier drama forgotten, you smile at him.
“Hi there,” you chirp, “you want up? C’mon, bud. Up.”
He hops up with surprisingly gentleness, picking his way around your limbs and Johnny’s. He ends up crawling over your dog and settling half on top of him, and half on top of you, his chin settled between Johnny’s stupid perky ears. Johnny seems thrilled so you laugh a bit.
“What good boys,” you coo, giving them each a scratch and receiving a kiss in return. “Alright, this isn’t so bad.”
You fall asleep there, already trying to come up with name for your new pup. Maybe Phantom.
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Main Story | Konig pt. 1
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cregnstark · 18 days
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hiiii so this is a little tidbit from a much larger cregan stark fic i’ve been slaving away at. not sure where exactly this scene will ultimately end up in the finished piece but i just wanted to share since i’ve been promising my writing and thus far neglecting you all. lmk what you think! ‹𝟹 ― cregnstark
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“Is this what has become of our great house? Whoring our women out to flea-ridden dogs in The North?” Aemond’s intrusion came with no knock or announcement, simply pushing his way through the grand oak door, letting it slam against the wall before a guard rushed to close it behind the prince.
The queen and her lord father, The Hand, jumped at the sudden bang upon the prince’s entrance into the otherwise peaceful and empty room.
“Aemond. We were just fashioning to summon you.” Alicent stood quickly to greet her son, reaching forth to him as his mother, as she had dozens of times throughout their shared life together.
He did not reciprocate the gesture.
“For naught. The whole of the keep is bustling with the thrilling news,” He locked eyes with his grandsire, Otto Hightower, but only for a moment before moving past his mother towards the balcony at the window. “Why has this been allowed? Why has she who was promised to me being sanctioned to wed the Lord Stark?”
“It was not of our control, Aemond,” Otto answered for the queen, looking to quell his grandson’s anger before it turned violent, as it was likely to since claiming Vhagar some years prior. “The King has dwelled upon the histories and legacies for many a year. There has been no Targaryen and Stark marriage in recorded time. Viserys was more than delighted to bless this match; the first of its kind.”
Otto Hightower looking to be the optimist amongst them. Otto Hightower looking to take control of the situation.
“And what happens when his offspring attempt to lay claim to our birthright? We just allow wolves to become dragonlords, hm?” Prince Aemond turned on his heel, taking large strides toward his mother and grandfather where they stood at the small council’s table.
His shouldered were squared and his firsts curled in on themselves at his side, knuckles almost white. He looked ever the force of fury as he often was these days. Alicent’s babe, her boy ― now a man grown, with his own achievements and attitude; driven by a powerful energy she did not always understand.
“The King has led no indication that any children they have would be given dragon eggs to cradle. Nor is there a reason to believe they would hatch either.” She attempted to soothe her son’s concerns, unsuccessfully.
“She was promised to me, mother. It is the principle.” Aemond sneered, almost hissing like the dragon his blood made him to be. This was more than just anger at a Targaryen women marrying outside their own house, as was very uncommon to begin with; no, this was a personal matter. Aemond One-Eye had been personally slighted. What was once promised his to stake claim to was now that of another man’s.
“We will make a good match for you, my love. Forge a strong alliance for our house and the realm.”
“Our children would have been the true Targaryens, like Aegon and Helaena’s. Purest blood of the dragon. Now that of Old Valyria is to be gifted to a Northman under silver cloche. Viserys has long been weak against the wishes of his daughters and it is repugnant that he not only granted her this wish but is celebrating it.”
In that, Alicent could not disagree.
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annwrites · 3 months
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sons & daughters. part three.
— pairing: cregan stark x fem!reader
— type: part of a series
— summary: cregan gives you a tour of the crypts & you begin to open up to one another. sharing truths continue that afternoon in the godswood when you are alone together.
— word count: 6,777
— a/n: i hope this all flows together okay. the godswood portion was actually supposed to happen sooner, but then chapter 2 came along & i rearranged some things so it could still fit.
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The next morn comes early with a rapt knock at your door, which interrupts your slumber.
It had taken some time, after parting from Lord Stark, for you to find rest.
You had spent a handful of hours in bed reading, even peeking outside from your balcony when you began to hear wolves howling in the distance. Instead of the sound frightening you, however, it had instead filled you with a sense of longing.
Their singing at the moon was what had eventually lulled you to sleep, though.
You slowly rise, rubbing at your tired eyes before throwing on a shawl and padding over to the door, ready to wring Jace’s neck—as if whatever he wants cannot wait another hour or two. Someone will most certainly become dragon meal, but it won’t be you.
You open the door and promptly shut your open mouth when you are instead met with the sight of Lord Cregan, standing tall before you. Dressed and ready for the day in polished black leather, looking down at you, his eyes trailing along your body before meeting your own once again.
You watch as he swallows thickly, licking his lips. 
“Forgive me, Princess. I have woken you.”
You had not been aware he would wish to visit the crypts so early in the morn. 
Yet another mistake by you. But of course. What else?
You shake your head, quickly tucking wild strands of hair behind your ears. “No, My Lord, it is I who should apologize. I…could not find sleep the night last. I’m afraid I thus overslept. I have not forgotten about your offer, to show me the crypts.”
You glance behind you, toward your wardrobe, then back to the young lord. “If you would give me a moment, My Lord, to dress, and I will join you promptly.”
You feel wholly off-kilter like this. Tired—just having woken—not properly dressed.
Forgetful.
He nods, once, eyes glancing to your bare feet. “Princess.”
Once dressed, you emerge from your chambers in a soft, warm gray gown, your hair braided and resting atop your shoulder with various pearl pins shoved into it, and you are bundled up beneath your dress, same as the day previous. 
Cregan is leaned against the wall opposite your door, foot planted against it, wrist hanging loosely over the pommel of his sword, and when his head rises to look at you, a small smile graces his lips. 
He steps toward you then, reaching out, taking your braid between his fingers, which slide gently down the length of it, fingertips brushing over the small baubles you’ve placed along it.
His eyes flit to yours then, as he drops his hand, offering you his arm. “Shall we go, Y/N?”
You merely nod, at a loss for words at his simple touch, as you wrap your own arms securely round his own.
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The two of you walk quietly across the yard, crisp snow crunching under your feet, only a few about at this early hour, such as servants and kitchen staff—the sun just beginning to rise in the east. You pull your cloak more tightly around yourself, the morning chill biting against your skin.
And then Cregan leads you underground, down a winding set of stone stairs, until darkness envelops the two of you for only a moment—your heart pounding in your ears—until brazier upon brazier comes into sight, lining an endless dark tunnel—crypts on either side, of men and women both.
You suddenly release Cregan’s arm then, stepping up to the first one you see in wonder. 
“Torrhen Stark,” Cregan remarks from behind you.
You look over his finely carved face, deeming him ruggedly handsome. 
Cregan comes to stand beside you.
“Do you...regret what he did?” You ask quietly.
He glances to you with a raised brow. “I believe it would be considered treason to.”
You remain silent, awaiting a proper answer. 
He sighs. “I suppose at times, perhaps. But had he not, you would not now be here.”
He would be all the more fortunate for it, you think.
“Had he not, had the kingdoms not been broken apart into seven pieces—truly eight, when you think about it—I doubt such a potential war would be brewing at the moment, making my presence here wholly unnecessary.”
“Even before the conquest, we still yet fought one another.”
You nod, stepping over to the next crypt. “Do you not think it better, for those who best understand their lands and customs and people to control them, as opposed to…an outsider?”
He is taken aback to hear you say such things. Northern Independence is not a new idea, but for you to desire independence for all from Southron serpents...
You turn to look at him.
You wrap your arms round yourself. “I only meant… The realm is very large, and to have one head leading it seems a miscalculation, mayhaps.”
There is a beat of silence before you speak again. “I am only glad it will never be mine own.” 
You glance down to a direwolf crypt, smiling at it. You weren’t aware stonemasons designed such things. “My duties will, instead, lie in other areas,” you then state.
His brows furrow. “Such as?”
You grow quiet then. 
“Y/N,” he presses. 
You do not wish to speak on the matter, knowing soon enough such arrangements will come to surely pass. They nearly had once already, and not so long ago, at that.
Mayhaps…you should have agreed. But you know even if you had, things would still have transpired just as they have. Such a marriage would only have complicated matters, if not made them worse.
You’d had so many secrets as children—you and he—what is a proposal, if not another one?
You intend to keep it locked away in your heart—something to hold onto when you one day are forced to wed for duty, instead of want. Because you had wanted. Even for only a moment.
You walk further down the line and further still, and Cregan decides not to push the subject. 
“I hope you do not find all of this macabre, Princess,” he states, placing a comforting hand against your back.
He is trying his utmost to maintain a healthy balance of referring to you by both names: your given, and your proper title. He fears growing too used to the former and slipping up amongst others, such as your brother.
Even if calling you by it is far more preferable. Comfortable, even. 
You shake your head. “Not at all. I find it fascinating. It is, after all, a singular opportunity. Once my brother and I leave, I fear I will not be presented with it again. I imagine I will never, in fact, see the North again once we return to Dragonstone.”
He ignores his heart squeezing at the thought. 
“Not even to visit?” He asks casually, fingers trailing along your spine.
You give him a forced smile. “I imagine I will be wed soon enough. So as to gain my mother an army or castle stronghold or coin to fund this war when the time comes. At that point, my place will be where my husband deems it be.”
You talk about it so flippantly that it unnerves even him, as if it is a fate you have already resigned yourself to: doing as you are told without quarrel. Your own wants and wishes be damned.
You continue walking—his hand eventually falling away—until you have reached closer to the end of the line, and are greeted with the sight of a young woman set in stone.
Cregan gazes upon her for just a moment, feeling an ache at her being so close, but yet so far from him. 
He clears his throat then. “My late wife, the Lady Arra Norrey.”
You swiftly turn your head to look at him, while he looks at her and your heart breaks at the look of longing within his eyes. 
“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, truly, truly meaning it. You cannot imagine such a pain.
He nods. “Thank you, Y/N.”
You look back to her. “She was very beautiful.”
“She was. My son looks much like her. When he was born—the same day the Gods saw fit to take her from me—he was my perfect reflection. As he has grown, he has come to resemble her more and more. Both a blessing and a curse. Through him, I will never forget her, but also yet reminded of what I have lost.”
You both grow quiet then, only the occasional pop or crackle coming from the lit braziers to break it.
Until you speak.
“I suppose in that much I will be fortunate,” you say, merely above a whisper.
He looks at you, waiting for elaboration. “Princess?”
You look at him, softly smiling. “I do not mean to say that I will not mourn, if one day I were to lose my lord husband. But…no one will ever want, nor marry me for love. So if I lost him, I think it would make the pain easier to carry. A small comfort, I know.”
He stares down at you with furrowed brows in disbelief at what you have just said.
You continue to stare up at him, feeling uneasy at the darkening look upon his face.
Oh Gods, you had offended him. Had upset him. How could you have said such a thing? Mayhaps he feels you have insulted her—her memory. This is why you prefer to be alone. Or, at the very least, when near others: utterly silent.
“Forgive me, My Lord, I did not mean to—”
“Do you truly believe such a thing?” He says, interrupting—his tone that of steel.
You take a small step back, now frightened. “I—”
Tears sting your eyes. You had been too open. Too ignorant. You should have known better than to speak so honestly with a man who is still yet a complete stranger to you.
What if you have now ruined everything Jace has been working so diligently to accomplish? Neither he, nor your mother, will ever forgive you. How could you have been so careless with your words?
He leans down toward you and you nearly flinch, but compose yourself, thinking he now seems the very wolf that is emblazoned upon his broad chest.
“You think no man could ever love you?”
You swallow down the lump in your throat.
His eyes flit between your own. “Whatever man marries you should be aware of just how blessed he is to have you to take to wife. By all the Gods—Old and New. And for you to, much more, one day be the mother of his children? I cannot imagine a finer fate. For if he does not realize it, he is wholly unworthy of having you.”
You stare up at him, wide-eyed and shocked. He…surely he does not mean it.
"That...is very kind of you to say, Lord Stark. But I am aware of my position in the world. What I am to prospective suitors. A means to an end. My title—my heritage—is something to bring them ever closer to the throne, mayhaps, or glory. At the very least remembrance, to be printed within historical texts. When men look at me, just as the same as they did with my mother when she was younger than even I, they do not see us for who we are, but rather, what.
"If I am fortunate, I only hope whomever I am wed to sees me as more than just a walking womb. If not...I must be content with that. At the very least, I will have my children, if nothing else in all the world."
You glance toward the exit, ready to leave.
You do not wish to discuss this any further.
You step past him.
Cregan refuses to let you leave with that. How can you possibly think so little of yourself? How can you care naught about your future? About your welfare?
He suddenly takes your hand in his, turning you back toward him.
Your brows furrow, glancing down to where he now has you within his strong grip.
"You would give up so easily? Just...let whomever is the highest bidder have you without dispute?"
"It is not up to me."
Even if it once had been. For only a moment.
You know you must let it go now.
For it does not do well to dwell on things that never will be.
"From what I understand, your mother was given a choice," he insists.
You slip your hand from his grasp. "War was not looming on the horizon when she was. Everything is different now."
You take a step back, putting distance between you.
He wishes to reach for you again, but withholds.
He grasps for something to say—anything—to make you see sense, but even he himself knows that what you say is the way of things for highborn ladies. That your lives are never truly your own.
And then he thinks of the meeting he is meant to have this morn with his advisors. Knowing that he, too, will be subjected to the same, as he has continually been since Arra's passing: further insistency that he wed again. And soon.
He has but one son—one heir. If something were to happen to Rickon—something as simple as illness—he will be without issue. And without a sibling to succeed him, he fears Winterfell falling back into his imprisoned uncle's clutches once more.
He who had thirsted for power, instead of righteousness.
He is not fit to lead the North. Not anymore. Not now that he showed his true nature those years ago.
Cregan follows silently behind you as you exit the crypts, not wishing to leave matters between you like this as you part ways for the day, but he knows not what else to do.
He knows that further false words of assurance would be of little comfort.
Once you have both reached the surface, he places his palm against the small of your back once again. Merely wishing to touch you. Have you close to him. "May I escort you back inside, Y/N?"
You merely nod, trailing along beside him silently.
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Once you have reached your room, you reach for the handle, until Cregan speaks again. "If it was up to you, what would you wish?"
You slowly turn back to him. "Forgive me, I do not know what it is that you mean."
He steps closer to you, while you are forced between his towering form and the solid wood of the door behind you.
"If someone put your fate in your own hands to do with as you wished, what might you choose?"
It once again comes to mind, a conversation from only a few days past.
Then perhaps we steal away in the dark of night, married in secret by a septon, he had told you while holding you close.
You look down, gripping the fabric of your dress nervously. Wondering if you should disclose it.
If you did, whom would he tell?
At that, you do not need to provide him the man's name.
You sigh. "I had such an opportunity once. Not so long ago. And yet still, I put others before myself. Because I knew what would come of it had I said yes. Mayhaps I should have. Even if it would have only worsened matters."
You shake your head. "So, I do not know anymore. I've spent nigh on my entire life trying to prepare myself for the prospect of a loveless marriage, so I am not disappointed when I am finally thrust into one. And then I am given an opportunity to procure myself something otherwise, and I still repudiate it."
His brows furrow, heart hammering, fist tightening at his side. Already one has asked for your hand.
Whom?
He wants his name.
"You have received a wanted proposal," he states flatly.
You shrug. "We were close friends as children," you start.
Cregan thinks to himself how he much understands what such a bond feels like. That it is not something which is easily replaced.
And now he feels envious of a faceless man over a girl he barely knows. One who has shown little interest in him thus far.
But he does now understand why, at least.
The way you spoke of yourself...of course you would never think yourself as desirable by another. Not truly.
Not until him, whomever he may be.
He wishes to discover it.
"May I ask whom?"
You finally look up to him once more and he does not much like the glassy look in your eyes. You miss him, then. This suitor. This...friend.
"You may, but I will not tell. It is for he and I alone to have knowledge of. It is...personal."
A muscle in his jaw feathers. "Do you love him?"
You don't understand his deep interest in a matter which does not concern him.
You dislike this sudden inquisition into your own private matters. You regret discussing it at all.
It was just that he had shared something with you: his beloved wife's final resting place, so you had tried to offer a bit of truth in return. Mayhaps you should not have.
"As a friend, I did once. He has since changed. We simply grew apart. He became someone else, someone I no longer recognized."
That blade cut deeper than just the surface that night. It permanently scarred more than just his face.
Already, after leaving the Red Keep, your relationship had been precarious, but the way he had looked at you while holding tightly to his mother as blood seeped from his injured eye—even as you cried for him....you then knew he was lost to you.
That fact was cemented further when he stopped replying to your letters.
And then you stopped bothering with writing them.
He takes a step back then, allowing you, finally, to breathe. Being near him makes you feel so...enveloped.
"I am sorry to hear it," he replies.
"I am sorry it happened," you whisper, turning your back to him and finally slipping into your room.
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Cregan stands there, head swimming. He'd thought that he finally had you figured out: sweet, demure, unable to see your own worth, yet now he comes to discover of a secret romance between you and an unnamed man, which you refuse to elaborate on.
As he turns, headed toward the solar to meet with his advisors, he hopes they do not stoke his ire, as his jealousy has already been set ablaze.
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You remain in your private room for awhile, pacing, considering.
You know it is foolish to consider such a thing. Accepting...it would do naught against what has already been done, as you keep telling yourself over and over again—desperately trying to pound it into your head.
And what benefits would it bring to your mother's side, anyway? None. Besides, it would break her heart and lay at her feet yet one more betrayal. And so soon after the last...
But what of you? What will happen to you now?
It is becoming—as time rows on and you grow older—blaringly obvious that signing yourself over to a miserable fate is far easier said than done.
You do not want to be alone, even in marriage. Do not want to be afraid and miserable.
You want...
You want.
Eventually, you exit your room, knowing remaining indoors will do little to ease your troubled and anxious mind. You cannot dwell on such things. Not here. Not now.
Outside.
You need outside where you feel less suffocated and cloistered away.
Mayhaps you will journey into the Godswood to sit alone for awhile.
You wish desperately to stop thinking.
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Your footsteps falter and you turn away from your current destination, deciding to instead head in the direction of clanging steel, curious to see how the men train here.
You imagine it can't be terribly different from how they do so in the South, but you are interested, nonetheless.
Something to distract you.
Yes, that is what you need.
When you finally enter the Courtyard, your brows raise at the sight of Jace sparring against Lord Cregan. You decide to keep your distance, not wanting to throw off your twin by him spotting you as he tries desperately to beat back his northern combatant.
Cregan is near-relentless in his endeavors to subdue his opponent, who—while you would never state it plainly to his face—falls woefully short in terms of swordsmanship skills against the stoic young lord.
Jace stumbles back as Cregan rains down blows from above with—you hope—a dulled sword. He seems somewhat irritated somehow.
You hope it is not with your brother.
You take a step closer, and then another, and notice that Cregan is speaking to him—educating him—as he fights.
"Pay attention to your opponent's feet, young Prince. Anticipate their next step."
Clang.
"Turn—yes. Hit hard—from the side."
Clang.
"Keep your head up, or I'll ring it like a bell. Good!"
Clang.
Jace swings forward, Cregan dodging the move with deft footwork.
Just then, their swords meet, Cregan pushing back against your twin with all his might, until Jace falls, sword clattering beside him. Before he can even attempt at reaching for it, Cregan quickly kneels, holding his practice sword close to his throat. "Does my opponent sue for mercy?"
They both grin then as Jace nods in reply.
You are surprised that Lord Cregan had not gone easy on him, out of fear of retribution for 'showing him up', not that Jace is that sort of young man.
Finally, he takes Jace's hand in his, helping him to his feet.
Just as he does, he spots you, a gloved hand held up to your grinning lips as you head in the direction of the Godswood.
Your smile quickly fades, however, as your stomach turns when you enter the empty wooded area.
It hadn't merely been a playful game between young men... It was training for war.
You suddenly imagine Jace dying with a sword in his hand—Vermax falling from the sky—your mother wailing in agony over the loss of her firstborn son and fire raining down upon the enemy for it. Even for they you have sympathy.
You round the large heart tree which stands before a glistening pond of cool blue water and lean back against it, squeezing your burning eyes shut, willing the tears away.
But it only gets worse—your imagination running away from you. Not even coming here was going to soothe you, then.
Lucerys, who is still yet a child, with a sword thrust into his terrified hands, and Joffrey, still yet practically a babe, who may not even remember those who will be forever lost to him in battle.
And then there is Viserys and Aegon—both so young and tender.
Who...if you are all gone, who will raise them? What if...what if the Greens, instead, use them as veal for their dragons?
You feel sick.
You choke down a sob, covering your mouth with trembling hands. Oh Gods, what is happening?
"Princess?" Calls a concerned voice to your right, utterly gentle in tone, his fire quickly extinguished at the sight of you in distress.
You quickly wipe your flushed cheeks, even if you know it is of no use: he has seen you.
"Lord Cregan," you manage to say through the stinging tears.
He comes closer, throwing 'propriety' and 'decorum' to the wind as he cups your face in his hands, his brows furrowed, hard eyes full of worry. "Has something happened? If someone here has—"
You shake your head. "No. It's—"
You burst into tears then, imaging the fall of your family. All of them. Even those you are now meant to call enemy and usurper and worse.
He then pulls you close to him, against his chest, and you press your face against his leather jerkin, which smells of smoke and steel, as he wraps sturdy arms around you.
He gently runs his strong fingers through your soft hair, before cradling the back of your head in his callused palm, shooshing you, desperately wishing to comfort you from whatever has you in such disarray.
Finally, once you have begun to quiet, you pull back from him, leaning against the tree behind you once more, hiccupping. "I'm so...sor—" You shake your head. "Please, forgive me, Lord Cregan. I—"
He takes your hand in his bare one. "There is nothing to forgive."
Your lower lip trembles.
He steps closer, his body-heat radiating onto you against the cold. "Will you not tell me, Y/N?"
It seems a strange dichotomy to you: him.
Last night, with Jace—much like your first night here—he had talked history and fighting and weapons and about the Wall; the grit of the North, which he seems to completely embody. And then his being relentless with a sword in his hand—one always at his side. And there is the way he carries himself: with surety and steel.
But with you he is...gentle. Has been so many times now.
"Watching the two of you, it initially filled me with joy to see: you both getting on so easily. And so soon. And then I realized..."
You look up, meeting his eyes and he cups your cheek, brushing hot tears away with the pad of his thumb, before settling his grip upon your forearm.
You continue. "You were not play-fighting. It's training for war. One that I..."
You trail off for just a moment, taking deep breaths, trying to calm yourself before bursting into another fit of hysterics. "I believe is truly inevitable. If it were not so, we would not be here now, with you, seeking the might of your realm to back my mother. Her...cause. I thought I had accepted it—that which looms before us, but seeing Jace with a sword. Oh Gods, I cannot lose them."
His jaw feathers as he watches you struggle to hold yourself together. You are far too gentle a creature to bear witness to this pending doom.
"She told me once, something which her father—my grandsire—told her at my age; younger, even."
You are quiet for a moment, snow falling softly around the two of you, the sound of a bird flapping its wings in flight.
"When dragons go to war, everything burns."
You meet his eyes again. "Never, at any point in our history, have so many dragons been alive at once. Even at that, my uncle, Daemon, has a score of eggs incubating at Dragonstone. Not that they will be full-grown for some time, if they do indeed hatch."
You let out a shuddering breath. "I...I am afraid."
He rubs soothing circles against your sleeved arm with his thumb, grasping for the right words to give you, which may provide some sense of security, but he, most unfortunately, has none.
He has failed you more than once in that: being unable to comfort you from your troubles.
"I don't want my family to die," you whisper, fresh tears slipping down your face. "Any of them."
He leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours, taking each of your hands within his own, holding them up to his lips as he blows warm air onto them, before clasping them firmly between his large hands.
"I wish I had words of wisdom—assurance—to offer you. It grieves me to see you like this, Princess. But in times like these, sometimes we must admit hard truths to ourselves." He's quiet for a moment. "I think you and I both know what those truths to be. That if an agreement—capitulation—is not soon reached, I fear your mother's warning may yet come to fruition."
You sniffle. "Coming here felt—feels—like such an escape. It is as if I'm in another world now. Far from politics and scheming and treachery. Like none of it—or they—can touch me in this place."
You close your eyes.
"Do you want to know the horrible truth?" You question quietly.
"Tell me. Please."
You swallow thickly. "I don't want to go home."
He pulls back then and you stare up at him, ashamed of yourself.
"Might I ask why?" He probes.
You shrug slightly. "I..." You pause.
You don't open up like this. Not to anyone. It's not that you don't have someone to do so with. You do. But it would hurt them to hear. Would break your mother's heart to.
Mama.
So, you have kept it locked away inside all this time. But here, before the Gods—his Gods—if they are listening, you feel it a safe place.
Feel that he is.
"I have always felt othered. Out-of-step. Out-of-place. Within my own life..."
You sigh. "King's Landing was...the sun and the warm water was pleasant enough. And, at night, when I felt lonely, all I had to do was stand on my balcony, and listen, to know that I wasn't. The noise could be too much at times, but at others it served to console me.
"And then we left for Dragonstone, and I had never felt so alienated. Living on an island, away from everyone—everything—I had ever known, and so soon after losing—"
You stop. You know the truth. You always have. You and Jace and Luke had discussed it late one night in your twin's room; that most unspeakable secret which everyone seemed to talk about anyway.
It had lost Vaemond his head to do so, per Daemon.
"Go on," he encourages softly.
You look at him, resolving to finally acknowledge it. You will not shove him aside. He had doted on you. Loved you so.
You could still remember it, even now—that night when you could've been no more than five-years-old, and drifting off to sleep in his broad arms when he had whispered it: 'I love you, my little girl, with all that I am'.
And you had loved him. Laenor as well. And then you had lost them both, and in such quick succession of each other. To fire, no less.
No wonder you had never desired a dragon of your own.
It's because fire takes—kills and destroys and burns away all that remains. Until all that is left is charred bone and ashes and nothing. And it will do it again, soon enough.
Your chin wobbles. "My father, Ser Harwin. And then Laenor..."
You shake your head, and you find that he does not react to you saying it, which you are glad for.
"I had never felt so alone. I had my siblings, but even at that: I was the only girl. And Daemon... I have never considered him a father. I've never understood why my mother married him. He is...selfish. Dangerous and self-righteous."
He straightens. He'd heard rumors of him: the Rogue Prince. Taken his own niece to wife, immediately after the death of his first. He cannot imagine moving past it so quickly; such a loss.
"I feel as if I walk between two worlds, and that neither will ever truly have me. I do not feel high-born. Do not entirely want to be, either. It is why I don't like being called 'Princess'. Do not like others bowing and scraping before me, who I refuse to see as lesser-than. Who I instead wish I can be friends with.
"But I know I am not like them, either. Because they will never see me as as much. How could they? How can I ever relate to their hardships of poverty and constant struggle, when I have never wanted for anything except for perhaps...companionship? Or a sense of belonging."
You gently remove your hands from his own, tucking them beneath your cloak. "But when we arrived here—stood outside your castle—I felt something I never had before."
"What was it?" He whispers.
"Home." Your eyes shimmer with tears.
His heart jumps to hear you say such a thing.
"This place feels like what I imagine home is meant to feel like. And to know that in a fortnight, perhaps a little more time, a little less, that I will have to leave it behind, and mayhaps never see it again..."
You look to the side of you where a white rabbit hops along quietly, sniffing the snow beneath its padded feet. "I must sound ridiculous. To feel so attached to it when I've only just arrived. I know that I do not belong here—"
"I do not believe that," he states firmly, in a rasping voice.
Your brows furrow. How can he not? You are an outsider if there ever was one.
He continues. "I have questioned it: destiny. If it does exist, or if our lives are simply a series of choices we are forced to make day-by-day. But then I think of the Gods. The beauty of our world. The mysteries. The stories and legends." He looks at you. "How can I not, then? You say my home also feels like home to you?"
You nod gently.
"Perhaps our destiny is something that chooses us, then, and not the other way around. At least for some. Others... We are forced to carve our own path. But, for those that remain, unable to see a way forward—mayhaps they have a helping hand guiding them closer. Until they finally find whatever it is that has been waiting for them. And that hand leaves—them able to then forge ahead on their own, the path before them lain plainly."
You think for a moment, trying to understand what he might mean. “Are you saying that you believe Winterfell to be my destiny?”
He stares down at you. “Did you not feel as much when that feeling of home overcame you when standing outside our walls? Something drove you to come here, Y/N. You did tell me it had been a late decision. But one you made, nevertheless.”
You had heard once that Northerners were a superstitious lot. But, at the same time, you cannot deny the things he says. 
He notes your silence. “Do you believe in the Gods?”
You look at him from under your lashes. “Which ones?” You ask with a small smile.
“Any,” he says, stepping round the heart tree, looking upon the face that was carved into it so many centuries ago.
You come to stand beside him. “I was raised in the light of the Seven.”
He looks to you, while your eyes remain firmly fixed on the tree before you. 
“But I don’t…know that I feel they’ve ever listened to me. I believe in them, yes. I just don’t really pray to them anymore. I can’t even remember when it was that I stopped now. I think not long after Harwin…”
You look to him with worried eyes. “You won’t tell anyone, will you? What I’ve said about my true paternity or—”
He shakes his head. “No worries on that account, Y/N. I would never betray your trust. I consider it a gift—a privilege, even—you sharing such hard truths with me.”
And he does. You have done it time and again, much to his appreciation. He only wishes for it to continue. For you not to close yourself away from him instead.
“Why did you ask? About whether I believe?”
He nods toward the tree. “I do. Believe. Pray. When I am able.”
He turns fully toward you, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, then settling his arms behind him. “Perhaps you should speak to them. If your New Gods did not listen… I wonder if the Old may not be more agreeable.”
You step toward it, considering. “How do I—”
“Just speak to them. As you have me. Nothing else is necessary. No crystals or censers or choosing this one or that to hear you. Tell them what is within your heart, your soul. I cannot promise that things will change, much more for the better, but I always feel as if a load has been lightened after I have confided in them.”
You sit upon the stone bench positioned a foot or so away, looking up at the blood-red leaves swaying above you, a cool winter wind blowing them to and fro. 
You tighten your cloak around you then, which Cregan takes note of.
You tuck your chin in close to your chest, to only be met a moment later with the feel of a very heavy and long fur-lined cloak—already warm from his body heat—being carefully draped over your shoulders.
You look up to him. “Oh, you don’t have to—”
“What sort of man would I be if I let you sit there and shiver against the cold while I stay warm? It grieves me to think of you catching a chill while under my protection. Even if it would, mayhaps, keep you in my company longer.”
You flush.
“Besides, I have many others,” he states with a smile. 
You wrap it further around you, until only your head is visible and his lip twitches at the sight. Of you, in a way, covered in him.
You smile sheepishly, your cheeks warming, along with the rest of you as you nervously wring your hands beneath the black cloak, which smells of him; of winter.. “Thank you, Cregan.”
Hearing his name uttered from your lips like this—and here—moves something within him. Sends his blood racing in his veins.
“Shall I leave you, then?” He asks, cocking his head slightly to the side.
You nod once. “I will at least try.”
He goes to step away. “I hope, truly, that they listen.”
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It’s not quite an hour later when you finally rise from your seat. You had felt foolish at first—talking to a tree—but once you began to pour your heart out, there had been no stopping it. 
You had told the Old Gods everything.
Had told them about your true father, and your step, Laenor. You prayed for your brothers, to keep them safe from whatever is to come. And if they do die…make it swift. Painless. You prayed for your mother, and for her to regain her throne with minimal bloodshed. Prayed even for the Hightowers and Alicent’s children, because they were still your family. 
And then you prayed for the Realm. That, if and when lives are lost—it makes you sick to even think of it—to let it not be in vain. Let their bodies not rot on battlefields, never to return home, or their corpses strung up on tree branches, to be used as examples. Let them be buried with dignity.
Let families not go hungry, or suffer from illness and disease. Let horses not fall from starvation due to rationing. Let the land not be razed and destroyed, homes burned, shops never to reopen, leaving many without means to earn money, or a way to purchase provisions to survive off of. 
The more you thought of war, the worse off you felt. Until you began to cry again. So much so that you eventually exhausted yourself and felt sick.
You had finally risen, thanking them for listening—if they indeed had, before heading out of the Godswood, back into the courtyard and heading into the castle once more to lie down for awhile.
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You had knocked on Cregan's door, so as to return his cloak, to no avail.
So you had taken it with you into your own, deeming that you would return it to its rightful owner that evening instead.
You hung it carefully upon a brass hook on the wall, then stopped mid-turn when you caught sight of a present laid upon your bed, concealed in brown wrapping paper.
You gently pull at the twine tied round it, then smooth the paper back to reveal a beautiful heavy black cloak, lined with incredibly soft fur. Set atop it, a small note: To keep you warm. —Cregan
It is only once you have tried it on and are looking at yourself in a floor-length mirror that you notice the small embroidered direwolf above your left breast.
You smile warmly at the sight, your heart squeezing at his kind gesture.
You much look forward to seeing him again that night.
And you then wonder...if he feels the same.
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andreawritesit · 3 months
Note
can i request cregan and targ reader where he gets her a wolf and its all sweet and stuff ❤️
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Fandom: House of the Dragon
Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen Reader
Synopsis: You had been living in the North for quite a while now but nothing felt quite as welcoming as receiving a warm bundle of joy as a present.
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It was not morning yet. Or perhaps it was. Wrapped in the dark grey clouds, the sun often played hide and seek in the Northern skies. It was difficult to tell what time of the day it was. You got out of bed and immediately, the sudden chill enveloped your entire body, down to your bones. Quickly grabbing the fur blanket from the bed, you wrapped it tightly around yourself. The cold was your worst enemy, your soul was forged out of fire after all. Even after an entire month, you still couldn't understand why your mother would betroth you to a Northern lord. You were the same girl on the side of whose bed she had spent countless nights awake. As soon as the weather became colder, you'd catch a fever. Throughout your childhood and even now, in your adolescent years, Rhaenyra has been on her toes constantly because of how the cold affected you. And yet she had sent you to marry Lord Cregan Stark. Why? That's not to say that your betrothed wasn't the most respectable man you had ever met. Cregan was cold and stoic as Northerners tend to be, but he was also honorable and extremely kind to you. As soon as you had arrived at Winterfell on dragonback, he had done all he could to make sure you were comfortable. He made sure you got plenty of warm clothes and furs and despite being the lord of Winterfell, he came to your chambers every day to see if you needed anything.
You had both decided that you would marry only after the war was over. He didn't want to tie you to himself knowing very well that he could die in the war and leave you by yourself. And you didn't want to marry him so soon either because you still wanted to partake in your mother's efforts to get her throne back from the usurpers.
You walked to the window and looked outside. Everything was covered in pristine white snow. It was so different from Dragonstone and Kings Landing. Instead of the hustle and bustle of the South, there was a calming silence in the North. Soon enough, the sun's rays began to pierce through the dense clouds, casting a golden hue over the snow-covered landscape. You couldn't help but smile at the view outside. The tranquility was suddenly broken by a soft knock at the door.
"Come in", you called, walking away from the window.
The door slowly creaked open, revealing the Lord of Winterfell. His tall and imposing figure was contrasted by a warm smile on his face, a sight you had come to cherish over the past month.
"Good morning Princess. I hope I didn't disturb your rest."
You shook your head, "Not at all, my Lord. I was already up." Your eyes went to a bundle of blankets in his arms. "What brings you here so early?"
Cregan's smile widened as he walked to where you were standing. "I come bearing a gift for you, my Princess." He stepped closer, revealing a small, furry creature nestled in the crook of his arm. "I hope this will make your stay here easier. He's a wonderful companion." He removed the top blanket a little and a small head peeked out.
Your eyes widened in surprise. "A dire wolf pup?" you breathed out as you reached to gently stroke his fur. "He's so precious and small."
"One of the she-wolves gave birth to many pups this morning. When I saw this one, I knew I had to give him to you." The dire wolf pup, with its striking blue eyes and white fur, nuzzled into your touch, eliciting a soft laugh out of you. "Here, hold him", Cregan whispered as he softly passed the pup into your arms. You cradled him close and looked up at Cregan, your heart swelling with affection.
"Thank you. He's perfect."
"Much like you", he said while stroking the pup's head gently.
"Is that why you brought him to me? Because he's perfect like me? Or was there any other reason?"
Cregan let out a small chuckle at your words. "It's one of many reasons I decided to gift this one to you. You see, just minutes after being born, he was already jumping around and causing mayhem in the yard. Reminded me of you and your dragon quite a lot."
You punched his arm lightly and a laugh left your lips. The pup nuzzled your neck and you couldn't help but giggle. Cregan's gaze softened as he watched you bond with the dire wolf. "He's strong and brave, much like you," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "I thought he could be a symbol of the North's acceptance of you."
You felt a rush of gratitude and warmth, not just from the direwolf but from Cregan's thoughtful gesture. He had once again won you over, something that had happened quite a few times already.
"I know it's not easy for you to settle down here in the North. But I'm grateful that you're trying and I promise you, I will take care of you. I will make sure you won't have to miss the warmth of your home. Winterfell will be your abode one day and I hope I will become your family, someone you'll be able to trust and perhaps even love one day."
You shifted the pup into your right arm and held Cregan's hand with your left hand. "You have no idea how much you have already done for me. When I first came here, I was a scared little girl who was being separated from her family but now I feel like I was always meant to be here, with you. I can assure you that I will also do everything I can to be there for you. I am ready, to accept Winterfell as my home and you as my husband."
Cregan's expression softened, and he squeezed your hand lightly. "I'm glad to hear that," he said sincerely. "I'm glad you came here."
"Me too."
Suddenly, the pup stirred, letting out a small, contented yawn. You and Cregan both laughed softly. The moment was broken but no less sweet. "I suppose he's tired", Cregan whispered as he covered the pup with a small blanket.
"Have you named him yet, my Lord?"
He shook his head, "No. He's your companion. You should name him."
You took a long look at the white fluffy ball of fur in your arms. "I'll name him Winter," you decided, looking up at Cregan with a smile. "To remind me of the kindness and strength of the North."
"Winter it is, then," he said. "May he bring you joy and protect you always."
Your heart swelled with emotion as you held Winter close. "He already has," you replied, your gaze locked with Cregan's. "Thank you, Cregan."
In that moment, the chill of the North transformed into the warmth of new companionship and a realization that perhaps your feelings for the Northern Lord had evolved into something deeper.
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idkfitememate · 10 months
Text
A Boar! In This Economy? Pt. 2
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⋘ Previous Part » ♡︎ « Next Part ⋙
૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : Gn!Boar Reader x Bennet & Razor (Genshin World)
૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 2k
໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : crack, fluff
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So… you may have head but Razor.
BUT IT WAS IN SELF DEFENSE YOU SWEAR!
He just, POPPED UP outta NOWHERE! How else were you supposed to react?! By not attacking on sight???
So now here we are. With a knocked out Razor on the grassy floor as you and your family of churls and slimes stand over him.
Huh.
You had no fucking clue what you were supposed to do now. Do you… drag him out of the forest? Find a wolf from his pack??
Maybe not the last one cause wolves eat boars…
Anyway.
Dragging him out means that you’d have contact with other characters and you were NOT prepared for that. I mean, at this point you had built such a strong connection with the mobs around you that you kinda forgot about the characters?
You also had to focus on the fact that you were a boar now. Not a human. For survival.
You are now something that poofs into meat after it dies.
So as you stared, you failed to notice a rustling of bushes behind you, but when another human form rose from them…
You ended up kicking Bennett in the head via hind legs.
૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍰🍧🍫୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚
So, apparently churls enjoyed the average human sacrifice every once and a while. Which is fair cause sometimes you gotta let off a little steam, you know?
But not like this.
The two were tied to a rather long stick over a fire as churls of every type danced around while singing.
You simply sat your fine boar ass in the grass looking a little less than pleased at the situation.
As they continued to roast the preteens over an open fire like chestnuts, you finally realized that “Holy shit they are actually cooking them I need to stop that-“.
And stop that you did!
By spitting up the equivalent of a lake onto their fire.
…Cool.
As water logged churls stood by in shock, you began to nibble at the startlingly strong vines wrapped around the duo.
And by gods those were strong vines.
But your jaws were stronger.
And now you have two children at your feet, drenched and still somehow passed out Jesus it’s been a few hours how hard did you hit them?-
And now you had no clue what to do. Right back at the same dilemma that made you hesitate to save them. Wtf do you do with them now???
Your hesitation was apparently apparent as you felt a had rake through your fur. Looking back you noticed a hilichurl petting you softly, gently directing you towards an opening in the forest.
Allowing it to guide you, you found that a couple adventurers from the guild calling out for Bennet.
Fuck.
૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍧🍮🍩୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚
Now they were tied to a tree deeper in the forest. Only difference is that they were now awake.
And thrashing about.
And maybe a bit sacred.
You sat on your haunches in front of them as they thrashed against their bindings. Something you noticed was that they weren’t using their visions.
…Weird.
Anyway as you continued to stare at them and them at you are they pulled against the vines, you noted that Bennett had stopped and was now just staring at you.
He was opening his mouth.
Holy shit was he gonna speak to you?
“Hey there little guy..?”
HOLY SHIT BENNETT SPOKE TO YOU-
“W-would you be a good little boar and get help?.. or something?.. please?”
Your only response was a snort, then you turned to Razor. You wanted to see if he’d have anything to say.
(Not that that was gonna change anything you’d still help them-)
“Uhh… Good boar? Friendly boar? Boar smell weird… boar help Bennet and Razor??”
Yep you loved them.
Giving a small squeal, you finally made up your mind. This was enough human interaction for a while, so you’d find a wolf, bring it back and then let it guide them to the Wolvendom in order to drop them off with Razor’s pack.
While you stood triumphantly with small sparkles surrounding you, the two boys sweat dropped at the sight of a somehow smug boar?
Boars can’t move their faces like that, can they?
Bennett hesitated… can they?
Coughing and shaking his head, Bennett finally noticed you were walking away and the hardcore growling Razor was doing.
“Hey! W-where are ya going little guy?” He called out.
You just turned, snorted, then continued on your way.
“W-wait!”
“Stupid weird smelling boar…”
૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍫🧁🍭୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚
Trotting across hills and avoiding the odd traveler as best you could, you finally found yourself at the Wolvendom. Shaking off your nerves, you head inside.
You slowly made your way through the grass, acutely aware of all the wolves surrounding you. Letting out little huffs you found yourself in a clearing.
A clearing….
Wait….
OH SHIT-
“Hello little one.”
ANDRIUS YOU FORGOT ABOUT ANDRIUS-
“What is a small boar like you doing here where it is not safe?”
His voice had a teasing tone to it, which confused you. This was the literal Wolf of the North, the man who embodied wolves. An actual GOD of the pack. Why wasn’t he hunting you down on sight???
Your confusion was plastered on your face, causing the wolf to chuckle.
“As a creature connected to Teyvat, did you not expect me to realize when The Creator stands before me? My head bows to you, O Mighty One.”
And now a kneeling Andirus was in front of you, as well as seemingly every wolf in the forest.
… So they weren’t going to eat you. Nice to know.
As you tried to communicate with the large blue and white wolf what you needed, only small squeals and oinks made it out. God this was pissing you off. With the churls, they just seemed to know! While it would be nice to talk with someone, you hadn’t needed to for a long while. This was bullshit! Now you’re getting pissed off!-
“Breath my Lord. Have you forgotten?”
Forgotten what? Huh?-
“It seems you have, the boar is not your only form. Any beast that has its soul connected to the heart of Teyvat. Every creature, every animal, they are you children. You have taken the forms of all as you encompass all. Try taking the form of a wolf and speak to me.”
He was acting like a god damn tutorial. Which… was actually fairly needed in this time of… well, need.
So you could do other animals huh? Let’s just see about this. Focusing all your willpower into it, your skin began to shift and turn, fur growing longer… slowly you transformed…
Into a fucked up half boar half wolf abomination.
AND JESUS DID IT HURT-
Loud whines and whimpers mixed with loud squeals and barks left you maw as you hopped around, before forcing yourself back into your now more favored form, a boar.
Yeah never again. You’d rather struggle.
Sighing and placing ‘shapeshifting’ on the back burner for now, you simply walked forward and grabbed some of the larger wolves fur in your mouth in order to drag him. Staring down he let out a small chuckle (He can chuckle???) and began to walk forward, allowing you to trot in front of him.
“Of course my Lord, lead the way.”
Thank the gods he had nothing to say about that mishap. (Maybe he was scared of you smiting him… hehe…)
૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍡🍪🍬୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚
Keeping a brisk pace, your small form had finally found itself in front of the two boys once more. It seemed as though they had tired themselves out from struggling, but we’re still awake. And Bennett’s eyes lit up upon see you. As they should.
“Hey there little guy! Did you get h-h- OH MY BABRBATOS!-“
Andrius, in all his glory, walked behind you as you sat there with a somehow even smugger expression than before. A large abundance of wolves had taken their place behind him, looking like a sea of grays and blacks.
“H-h-h-h-h-“ You’ve broken Bennett, now to check on Razor.
…The poor wolf boy also looked shocked.
You slid your tusks under the vines and pulled, snapping them off and allowing the boys to fall to the grassy floor. And then two hilichurls gave them their visions.
Oh. So that’s why they weren’t using them-
You watched as Razor nudged at Andrius and a few other wolves before turning to you.
He was walking towards you…
His hand outreached towards you…
And he rested it gently on your head.
You nuzzled in to his hand as small happy tears began to run down your cheeks. You basically rammed your head into his palm, sucking up all his attention. He seemed shocked, then happily began to rub both his hands into you, a small smile on his face.
Bennett watched with in astonishment, before grinning and laughing, rubbing your back with his hands. And h o l y s h i t did it feel good.
Hell, even Andrius began to nuzzle you.
At some point the petting stopped - which made you sad you will admit - but as you watched them walk off you felt pretty good about yourself because like, you just helped some characters! Even if you were the reason they were in trouble in the first place…
But that’s not the important part!
The important part is now you had some friends! And they were pretty neat.
But now you had to figure out how the fuck to deal with your newfound ‘shapeshifting’ powers… May God have mercy on all vision holders.
૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🎂🍭🍰୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚
Omake~~ A Boar and two Boys walk into a bar~~
“Is this the onE NO IT IS NOT RUN RAZOR-“
Ever since that day, Razor and Bennett have been trying to find that weird boar that both kidnapped then released them.
The reason they had been out that day was because it was Razor’s turn to hunt for his pack. Sure, wolves hunt in groups but Razor ironically enjoyed hunting alone, but Bennett was always welcome.
Razor had seen the boar, saying that it had “smelled weird”, whatever that meant, and began to follow it. Of course, Bennett lost him for a moment but when he found him, he was met with the back hooves of a boar.
And the rest was history.
When they went around trying to tell the tale of the boar that had summoned Andrius, the people of Mondstate thought it was just that.
A tall tale.
The only person who seemed mildly interested was the bard Venti, but that was quickly shut down when he started trying to figure out rhymes and how to make a song out of it.
So they decided to find it on their own.
“Bennett need to stop running up to boars. Razor will smell weird boar.” Razor had grabbed onto Bennetts shirt while saying that.
“But the faster we find it, the faster we can show it off!” Bennett argued.
The two began to bicker in the field they had been searching in, it was near where the forest they had found the boar in, and the field was currently occupied by boars so common sense dictated that it should be out and about, grazing away.
Of course, you don’t follow their stupid mortal logic.
“Do… do you hear that, Razor?”
“Yeah. Sounds like pig in sky.”
“Well pigs can’t fly so-“
“DUCK!-“
Razor forced Bennett’s head down, pushing them both to the ground as four wild winds whipped around them. A large dragon and a hawk flew by as an equally large lion and wolf speed past.
“The four winds…” Bennett whispered.
Razor sniffed the air.
“AND WEIRD SMELLING BOAR!”
૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍮🍧🍰୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚
WHOOOOO WHOOOO IM RIDING A DRAGOOOONNNNNNNNNNN-
Today was a good day for you.
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໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Thank you to all who’ve enjoyed Boar!Creator so far! My inbox is always open for requests and what to do with Boar!Creator! Have a good day/night!<3 ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚
(P.S. if you want to be tagged, don’t be scared to ask! I’m still getting used to Tumblr, so please let me know if I do it wrong! The same goes if you want to be removed!~ ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა)
(P.S.S. would anyone be interested in hearing about my Genshin OC’s/My personal Genshin AU ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა?)
໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ Tag list: @genshin-impacts-me , @resident-cryptid
I apologize to anyone else who wanted to be tagged, Tumblr is beating my ass rn and not letting me tag anyone else! Sorry again!-
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natalievoncatte · 4 months
Text
“Director Danvers, Lena Luthor is here.”
Alex stared at the speaker on her desk for a moment, feeling her anger rise. She didn’t need this now. Whatever stunt Lena was pulling, now was not the time. She had fires to put out and Supergirl was out of the fight.
Kara, a voice whispered. Kara, your sister.
Alex’s prime directive was take care of Kara. Yet here she was, again, dealing wit the aftermath of Kara being knocked down and beaten to a pulp in service of people she didn’t even know. Half of them hated and feared her now.
How had she let this happen? By small allowances. Step A led to Step B and then on to Step C. It started with looking the other way while Kara foiled robberies and rescued cats from trees and led to Kara defacto joining an organization whose mandate was, on paper, to imprison her or worse. She told herself that she was doing good, that between her and J’onn, they had become the wolves keeping the wolves from the door. Under the right leadership, an organization mandated to “control” aliens could help and protect them.
It gave her no comfort when Kara was lying in the sunroom unconscious, and the government was breathing down Alex’s neck while J’onn was off finding himself on some pacifist bullshit quest.
(Why did their fathers always leave them? Were the Danvers girls doomed to face everything alone?)
Now Lena was here. Luthor’s sister. Alex had let herself trust this woman and she wasn’t sure how that happened either.
Might have been because her kid sister, her precious dumbass kid sister, was over the moon for her Lena and didn’t even know it.
It was Luthor who did this to Kara, Luthor and his allies. Alex had enough of this. There would be no trial this time. No public spectacle. She didn’t care if it ended her career or even her freedom, she was going to kill him, because Kara couldn’t. Kara would always look for the other way, the perfect solution. She was beautiful and good, a hero who came from the heaven to set things right. A saint.
Alex was not and she never pretended she could be.
She drummed her fingers on the desk and stared at the speaker and said, “Keep her in the lobby.”
“No, Director, I mean she’s here, outside your door. We… she can be persuasive.”
Alex reached over wearily and hit the button to open the doors.
Lena marched in, and the sight of her took Alex aback. The boardroom predator with the razor sharp hairstyle, flawless makeup and fuck me pumps was gone, replaced by what Alex would think was Lena’s kid sister under other circumstances. She looked her age, for once, dressed in faded jeans and a threadbare MIT sweatshirt, carrying a battered messenger bag.
Alex had never seen Lena so bedraggled. Her hair was a chaos of unkempt curls pulled into a low ponytail and she was sans makeup, and for good reason. Her eyes were painfully red and the tracks of her tears were as livid as if they’d been left by claws. Her bottom lip was trembling and she fiddled with the strap of her bag.
“Close the door,” said Lena. “Can we talk here? Is this room secure?”
Alex pushed the button and closed the doors.
She had barely said “Yes”.
“Where’s Kara?”
“Not here. Why would she be at the-“
“Don’t fuck with me, Alex.”
Alex looked at her sharply. “I don’t know what you think you’re going to accomplish here with this, after you started working with Lex again.”
Lena stormed forward and slammed her palms on the desk, rattling Alex’s possessions. She leaned forward and glared with Alex with a furious, teeth-baring demand.
“The clone almost killed her. Where is she?”
Alex swallowed hard. “I’m not sure what-“
Lena cut her off. “I know Kara is Supergirl, Alex. I need to see her. Please.”
Alex rocked back in her chair as if struck by a physical force. The words slam into her chest like a brick into her sternum.
She knows.
“How?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve know for months. But you have to listen to me. Lex knew. He told me her identity, tried to throw it in my face so I’d turn on her. He knew her real name, he knew about you, he knew about your mother. You have to do something now.”
“Oh my God,” Alex said, standing. Mom.
“He wasn’t going to stop, Alex!” Lena blurted, almost hysterical. “He was never going to stop. He was going to kill her, he swore to me that she was going to die. I had to do it!”
“Do what?” Alex whispered.
“I had to kill him,” Lena wailed, balling her fists impotently as if she were trying to choke her own soul. “I had to!”
The reality of it slams into Alex and before she knows it she’s rushed around the desk to throw her arms around her friend, all thoughts of Luthors and loyalty and everything else going out the window as Lena sobs into her should.
“I killed my big brother.”
Lena’s voice so so small, so broken, that Alex can’t help but sob with her.
The fucking bastard just wouldn’t stop hurting them, even in death. Alex didn’t believe in hell but she wished she did for Lex Luthor.
Lena’s sobbing ebbed but did not fade entirely. There was only one cure for that.
“Come on, let’s go see our girl.”
Alex led Lena outside. First, she flagged down Brainy and gave quick, clipped orders: Get Eliza and get her here now, and find Nia and do the same. Then make a list of anyone Lex might have targeted and find them and get them secured.
Then she took Lena to the sunroom. They stopped outside and Alex handed her a pair of silly looking goggles.
“We can’t stay long, the light is too intense even with sunscreen, and you look like you burn.”
“Like a lobster,” Lena choked, pitifully.
Alex entered the code and opened the door.
Kara lay on the padded bed in a paper gown, bathed in sunlight. She was a mass of bruises and her right arm and left leg were in casts, a collar wound her neck. She’d been unconscious for three days now, possibly in the same kind of healing hibernation she’d fallen into after her first fight with Reign.
Lena rushed to Kara’s side and cupped her cheeks with her hands, brushing back sweat-dampened hair.
“Oh God,” Lena blurted, “oh please oh God Kara wake up.”
“She’s been out for days,” said Alex. “She’s stable, just not coming around. This has happened before. We think it’s part of how her body heals serious injuries. It just takes time. She’ll wake on her own when she’s ready.”
Lena didn’t even seem to hear her. She leaned down with an intensity and intimacy that shocked Alex to the core, and then shocked her further. Lena loosed three words in a language from a dead world that she has no business knowing.
“Zhao w rrip.”
Alex was thunderstruck. Lena knew Kryptonian?
“Lex had a translation dictionary,” said Lena. “I just hope I pronounced it right.”
“We need to go,” Alex said, glumly. “You can stay at the DEO. We could use your help and it’s safer for you here anyway.”
“Just let me stay another minute. Please.”
“If I do, your face will be peeling off tomorrow. We can visit again later. Come on.”
“I can’t,” Lena choked out. “I can’t leave her.”
Alex was an about to say something else when her mother fell open. Kara’s eyes fluttered open and she immediately turned to Lena, bleary-eyed.
“Did you mean that?”
“Yes, Kara, I meant it.”
“But zhao means-“
“I know what it means,” Lena insisted, so full of joy now. “I know what it means, darling. That’s how I meant it. I love you, Kara.”
Oh.
Alex swallowed hard. She didn’t want to interrupt but Lena, and not to mention Alex herself, would get very sick very fast if they didn’t leave this room.
Lena grasped Kara’s uninjured hand.
“You have to go. It’s not safe for humans in here.”
Lena swallowed hard, her throat bobbing.
“Before I… can I…?”
“Yes,” Kara whispered.
Lena darted down and gave Kara a quick, soft kiss on her lips, lingering for just a moment. Kara smiled at her and their hands slid apart as Alex half dragged Lena out of the room and closed the door, then ripped off her sun shades and stared.
“How long?” she breathed.
“I’ve been in love with her for at least for years now,” Lena said, her voice cracking a little. “I’ve wanted to tell her for so long.”
Lips trembling, Alex was besieged. She remembered every time that she told Kara to stay away, not to trust her, not to tell her. The weight of what she has done presses her down as firmly as the knowledge that Kara will be healed soon lifts her up. There’s only one thing she can do.
She swept Lena into a bear hug.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for doubting you and pushing you apart. I’m sorry I didn’t see sooner.”
Lena, at last, fully broke down in Alex’s arms. Later, when Eliza arrived, she passed off Lena-hugging duties to her mother until Kara was fully awake and can leave the sunroom.
Then, Alex went and did what you do for family.
She got rid of the body.
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blarshwritezz · 3 months
Text
This one was inspired by this post by @suiana <3
Yandere Beauty x Beast Reader
M yan x GN reader
TW - obsessive behavior, mass murder, maybe mild stalking(?), people are meanies
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You've grown so tired of this life, but it was all you knew. You've been trapped like this for years with nothing but your own rage to accompany you. Many of the once priceless paintings in your palace were now destroyed. It didn't matter. No one remembered this place. No one remembered you.
And it would stay that way until you die.
Every now and then some adventurers or travellers would find your palace, hoping for a place to stay the night, only to run away in fear. They'd rather take their chances with the wolves than with such a terrifying beast.
You expected another one of those interactions when you heard a knock at the doors. Some didn't even have that much decency. You weren't expecting such a beautiful man to he the one at your door. Nor were you expecting him to get down on one knee and ask to be your husband.
"You are the most stunning creature I've ever seen...please, allow me the honor of marrying you!" Of all things, did he have to call you a creature? You were technically a person! At least, you were a long time ago.
Not wanting to go through with whatever he could possibly be planning, you slammed the door in his face with a firm "No." He was probably trying to make a fool of you, or perhaps even kill you. Even though you hated this life, you didn't want to die. Not quite yet
How you wished that was the end of it.
He started sleeping outside the door of your palace, insisting on marriage if he ever saw you. Whether you we stepping out on the balcony, looking out a window, or tending to the garden he'd beg for your hand in marriage.
Even though his appearance became disheveled after the many days he spent outside your palace, he was still more beautiful than any woman you met as a human. Such a beautiful man surely had plenty of eligible bachelors and bachelorettes lined up at his own door, so why did he insist on a life with you? A life of solitude and silence. A life without a single friend. Even your servants were long gone. Broken mirrors, dusty furniture, spiders and bugs infesting the least visited corners, was that really a l8fe to beg for?
You finally got agitated at all his begging and pleading, of all the surely empty promises. As he followed you through your garden on day, you lost it. You turned back and gripped him firmly by the jaw, smooshing his rosy cheeks together as you demanded an explanation.
"You're amazing, your majesty! You're my greatest dream." He admit, a deep blush growing on his cheeks as your grip tightened. "I'll admit, I wasn't planning to propose, so I failed to bring you a proper ring. But I came out here, curious if the rumors were true...and the second I laid eyes on you, I was in love!"
It sounded more ignorant than you expected.
"I fell to my knees once I beheld you. You were too perfect for me to handle, and I knew it was a sign that I had to marry you!"
You really didn't know what to say. Was this guy all beauty and no brains? You didn't realize those kinds of people really existed.
You dropped him, firmly telling him to get lost and marry someone else. Someone better. But he instantly feel to his knees, gripping your legs and begging with tears in his eyes.
"Please! At least give me a chance, my love!" You never realized someone could be so pathetic.
You dragged him away. First you tried tossing him off the palace grounds, but he came crawling back. Then you dropped him half way through the forest. Again, he refused to leave your side. So you left him the last place you wanted to go.
You dragged him all the way back to the village, and instantly received the backlash you expected. You tossed him to the crowd, and they instantly took him. And as for you? They threw rocks, rotten food, and whatever else they could easily throw. The assault lasted until you were out of their sight.
At least now you could continue your days in peace.
Oh, you thought. You wished, you prayed. Your peace didn't even last a day.
That night, when you went out to you balcony to stare into the night, an unfamiliar sight caught your eye. The bright light of a fire. A large fire, consuming everything in its path. A horrible fire, turning the village to dust.
You gripped your balcony, crushing the metal of the railing. What were you to do? The villagers hated you. They loathed your very existence. They didn't remember you as you once were, only the beast you were today.
You were still supposed to be their ruler.
They were still your people.
You had to protect your people.
Without another second of hesitation you rushed out of your palace and through the forest. Only to find one person on the path there. The beautiful man you gave back to them earlier.
"I got rid of them for you, darling. Those barbarians didn't see how absolutely beautiful you are, and they can't keep us apart any more." He knealt down on one knee, pulling out a black box and revealing a stunning ring.
"Now let me do this properly...will you marry me?"
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I WAS INSPIRED, OKAY? I know I have requests to get to 😭
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muzzledhoundsheart · 3 months
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❧❧❧THE BEAST INSIDE YOUR WALLS❧
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Pairing ❧ dark!Gwayne Hightower x (f)reader  
CW ❧ dubcon, blood, fingering (f), oral (m), p in v sex, m!dom, possible typos 
AN ❧ I hope you guys enjoy this one! I had a pretty hard time with deciding if I’m gonna post it or scrap it and work on it another time or completely rewrite it but I think it pulled itself together pretty well in the end. Also sorry for any typos of any kind, I edit everything myself and English is my second language so some stuff slips to the cracks real fast (always makes me want to die when I see it ahaha) 
Fog hung thick over the trees, weaving itself round the crowns, through every branch hanging like shawls. Or more like nooses, Gwayne thought to himself. Him and his men rode through the forrest for hours now, seemingly without an end in sight. At every corner they rounded they found the same scenery, all blurring into one. While he enjoyed the status of being a knight, the glitz and glam of tournaments, young ladies fawning over him and men respecting him. He hated days like these. The sweat in his armor running cold down his back, the uncomfortableness spreading further, seeping deep into his very bones. 
„I see a village there! “, one of his men shouts. Oh, thank the gods he thought. Finally, some rest. He just hopes to find a good meal, a warm bed and a pretty whore to end the day well with. He could see in his men that they were all thinking the same, or at least some variation of it. They were so close they could almost make out the houses now, when suddenly, a shrill scream echoed through the Forrest. The horses were on high alert and almost knocked their riders off. It wasn’t just a scream of fear, it ran much deeper. The men looked to Gwayne unsure of how to proceed. „Sounds like a fucking banshee.“, a shorter roundish man spat with a heavy drawl. „My father used to warn me about them screams in Forrests, they’re luring you in to skin you alive.“, another one said. „Oh horseshite it’s probably just a kid who ran off and now can’t find their way back, serves ´em little cunts right.“ What a troop of heroes, Gwayne thought to himself. 
He took a deep breath and stifled a sigh, „You go on, I shall see if the forrest nymphs truly are calling for me.“ He said with a boyish smirk adorning his lips. The men looked uneasy but accepted his order and started their journey anew. Just as Gwayne was about to turn around to ride deeper into the thicket again he heard another blood curdling scream. His brows furrowed and he gripped the reigns tighter, dashing towards the noise. The closer he seemed to get, the colder his sweat ran down his neck, his thoughts running rampant stringing together gruesome paintings of violence and agony. Another scream, and it sounded awfully close. He drew his sword and the muscles in his pale back pulled taught, shifting underneath his freckled skin and sending a rush of adrenaline through his veins. The sight before him was, however, not what he imagined. 
A young woman was desperately struggling to climb up a mangled tree, she gained some footage and pulled herself up another branch, pained grunts leaving her mouth and blood dripping from her arm and side — drip drip dripping down from the wounds running down to her naked toes. Beneath the tree stood two wolfs, blood and saliva dripping from their snouts, bubbling around the corners making them look rabid, hungry — starving. The wolves didn’t even care about the deafening noise the hooves of his humongous stallion made, no, they were set on her, having already had a taste of her sweet flesh, eager for more.
 Gwayne ceased the opportunity and aimed for one of the wolves, within a few strives he was close enough to slash the back of one of them, their head hanging on by what little sinew the sword didn’t quite reach. This, finally, caught the other wolf's attention and he growled at Gwayne, ready to tear into his horse, pull him off and rip him apart, piece by bloody piece. Gwayne was faster though, stabbing the wolf in it’s side on one swift motion, his sword cutting into the wolf like velvet, releasing a gut-wrenching whimper, the wolf folded into itself while blood spurted out of it’s wound and snout, until his eyes glossed over, and his labored breathing stopped. It was almost beautiful how such such a beastly being perishes so pathetically, he thought, almost forgetting about the woman still hanging desperately onto the rotting branches of the tree in front of him. „My Lady... I’m afraid the branch will break soon.“ 
It took some time for the woman to realize what just happened. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, her chest heaving up and down heavily. Taking in her appearance, now being close enough to do so, Gwayne noticed how she was dressed, a white thin linen dress, almost looking like a nightgown, with nothing else covering her shivering form. Furthermore, the dress was ripped in multiple spots and her blood blossomed into the fabric, spreading like a visceral garden over her attire. She held her side with one hand and Gwayne noticed that her dress was ripped around her breast as well, it laid openly naked above the hand holding her side. What a lucky man Gwayne was. „Thank- thank you Ser. By the gods thank you.“ She breathed out, her voice sounding hoarse and rough. Gwayne dismantled his horse, hiding his almost perverse smile behind this mundane display.
 He approached the tree and held out his hand for her. Standing tall in front of it, he was sure the woman could reach him if she crouched down. „Let me help, my Lady.“ He said in the softest voice he could muster in this moment, his lips stretching into a friendly, warm smile. If only she knew. The woman was still apprehensive but did eventually crouch down and let him aid her in climbing back down. When she was on a brach low enough, Gwayne cupped the back of her knee and hauled her into his arms. She let out a surprised yelp and blinked up at him through thick lashes. The woman was caked in grime and blood, sweat clung to her body like second skin, but she was beautiful, nonetheless. 
„You’re all good now.“, he said, slowly lowering her to the ground while steadying her. Her hand went to her torn dress, trying to hold it up to hide her bareness. Before words could leave her mouth, he already unbuckled his cape and draped it around her shivering form. „What a predicament you were in ,my Lady. If you let me, I would take you to the nearest village to have a healer look at your wounds.“ He said not letting his gentle hold on her shoulders go. His fingertips slowly wandered up and down the familiar fabric in a soothing matter. „I would owe you my life, Ser.“, she haughtily breathed out.
 He was sure she’s lost enough blood to barely be conscious, especially now that the adrenaline is steadily leaving her body. His face contorted into a look of concern, „I might have to look at your wounds now and tend to them as best as I can. Forgive me but you’re looking awfully pale, my Lady.“ She let out an amused sound at that. „You might as well do it now, yes.“ she was swaying, on the cusp of fainting. Gwyane knelt down in front of her, slowly bunching up her skirt. The wound in her side wasn’t as bad as he initially thought, he got up again and assured the woman that he was only getting one of his satchels off his horse. He then proceeded to clean her wounds, dressing them in cloth and sending her assuring looks through his copper lashes. The woman felt like she was dreaming, being saved by such a beautiful kind man. 
He looked like a knight from a fairytale, his face was carved out of ivory, his eyes like the stormy waters that ran through the land and his copper hair falling around his cheekbones framing his pretty face. He got up again, wiping his hands on a cloth, discarding it after by dropping the bloodied cloth back into the satchel. „That should do it for now.“, he said. The woman was still dazed and looked at him as if he was a prince of the realm. „I cannot thank you enough.“ She expressed grasping tighter onto his cloak. „ Not to worry, my Lady, i have to wonder however you got yourself in this situation though.“. She looked flustered and diverted her eyes. „I was visiting my brother to take care of him, the cold got to him and i was afraid he wouldn’t make it out alive on his own. I thought taking the route through the forrest would get me home quicker, how foolish of me.“ 
Foolish indeed Gwayne thought to himself, stifling a grin. „I could offer you a bed for tonight as my thanks, Ser.“, her eyes lit up saying that, and Gwayne almost felt bad for how genuine she looked. It was rare to find someone seemingly believing in the simple kindness of man nowadays. He also wondered if she knew just what she implied with her statement, well he surely wouldn’t mind if that was what she was thinking of. Just the thought brought a shiver down his skin straight to his cock, it has been so long since he got to indulge himself after-all. „I would happily accept, my Lady“ he took her small shivering hand in his and brought it to his lips. She looked like she was about to faint again and before she started swaying, he decided to steady her with his arm around her waist. The woman stole many glances at him, and his breast swelled with pride — arrogance. He was sure he got kissed by Lady Luck tonight. 
He helped her mount his house and put her legs over his, one arm caging her in, so she „will be safe with him.“. They started trotting towards the small village nearby, her directions were surely helpful, making them arrive sooner than he anticipated.
They rode through a small marketplace coming across some of his men pointing him out to what seemed to be their bedwarmers for the night. Shouts of his heroism were heard, and the roundish man yelled „Not a banshee then ,aye?“. The woman then led him the way to a small hut. Nothing special really, made of wood and stone and mud. It looked solid — just — with greenery not only surrounding it but winding itself into every nook and cranny. They unmounted and she, still shaky on her feet, let him inside the small hut. 
His heavy boots stomped down on the creaky floor as he took his surroundings in; it was…homely. Certainly homely. A small kitchen met a big cozy bed draped in different fabrics and knit blankets. Books and various other items were strewn about, but it looked like it had a system at least. „You may take the bed and I will get you something to freshen up.“. Gwayne looked to her and swiftly grasped her wrist „I would rather claim my reward now, my Lady“. „I’m not sure what you mean.“ Her heartbeat quickened; she couldn’t have been so blind could she? He towered over her taking steps forward until both reached one of the wooden clad walls. She felt as if her flesh would freeze off, needles and pins spreading all over her body, her stomach in knots. „Remove my cloak“. All kindness vanished from his voice. She was staring at him, frozen in time. Cold cold cold fear encompassing her. „Now.“ he almost growled. 
Shaking hands reached up to open the claps, the thick fabric pooling around her still bare and bloodied feet. His eyes raked over her form, half naked and quivering before him. So delicious. His hand reached out to her, making her flinch away hard. This made his cock twitch, hard and wanting in his breeches. He moved quick and ripped the already torn dress to complete shreds. The cloth fell off her breasts entirely and he could almost make out her rapid heartbeat through her chest. The quick — thump thump thump — spurring him on even more. 
Gwayne’s hands found solace on her ribcage, his calloused thumbs slowly tracing the underline of her breasts, making her nipples pebble. The motion was almost soothing but her it felt like a predator seizing up his prey, installing fear in it and calculation their next move. She didn’t dare to breathe which he took note of — it made him chuckle. A deep rumble coming out of his chest. „I wont hurt you“. 
Liar.
She knew he would, they both did. His hands now cupping her breasts, clutching them tightly, pinching and pulling at her flesh. Small gasps left her mouth and she never felt more vulnerable than in this moment. He dipped his head to her level, copper strands kissing his cheekbones. His right hand followed her clavicles, up the tendons on her neck and settled on her throat. The pressure applied made her lightheaded. „Why don’t you sing my praises, huh, your great hero deserves more than this don’t you think?“ She wanted to bite that smug smirk off his face.
 It felt like he could sense what she thought, and he chose to attack first. His lips captured hers in a searing kiss. Gwayne’s tongue slipped into her mouth and he tasted every part of her. When they finally parted, her breaths were labored, chest heaving and saliva coated the bottom of her face, strings of it connecting them like a wet spider web. He kissed her again and again, growing more aggressive with each one, biting and pulling at her lips and tongue until she tasted the iron now coating their lips. She was ashamed of herself for how wet she’s gotten. Wetness slowly running down the inside of her thighs, as she felt how hard and wanting Gwayne has gotten himself. 
While Gwayne was biting and shucking at the juncture of her throat he ripped the last shreds of her gown hanging around her hips apart, leaving her completely exposed to his hungry eyes. Goosebumps littered her body as the cold air hit her skin, which was a welcome distraction from Gwayne’s searing touch, dipping lower and lower. He reached her mount and and slid a single finger between her folds. His lips breathed hot against her cheek „What a tight little cunt“, he moaned as he sunk his finger deep inside her. She wanted to run away, call for help and have him beheaded, but in this moment the coil winding itself in her stomach craved him to keep going, to do more. And do more he did. Another finger slipped into her — two long slender fingers stretching her tight wetness out in fluid motions. His paced steadily increased and he looked like he was about to rip her chest open with his teeth. Her breast heaving into his face and sweat slowly dripping into his face. He licked a long stripe up her artery and bit down, just hard enough to force a strangled groan out of her bruised lips. 
She was burning from the inside out from shame — it felt so delicious, being mauled alive. Just as she was about to completely lose herself in the pleasure, he withdrew his hand. „Get on your knees“, he commanded breathless and harsh. Her eyes refocused on him, and he sunk down, big, clouded eyes fixed on the flushed head of his cock. She didn’t even notice that he partially undressed himself. „Open“, he said as his thumb pressed down on her plump lower lip and hand wrapping around her throat again, much tighter this time. He ran the tip of his leaking cock along the edge if her teeth, finding great amusement in it. Even if she were to bite him, he could snuff her out in seconds. „Don’t tell me you don’t know what to do now, you’re definitely not a maiden,“ She was — but he didn’t need to know. She’s heard enough tales from friends and the brothel workers scurrying about the market when they found the time.
Light-headed form the lack of oxygen and limited in her movement she began running her tongue along his cock. Up and down the head, following a prominent vein slithering along the underside of it. Gwayne groaned and pulled her in by the throat. She sputtered around him, his cock reaching deep into her throat now. He left her no time to catch a breath, moving his hips in a fast irregular rhythm. „That’s it, take it“, he breathed out. His cock slipping in and out her mouth faster with every thrust. Spit dripped down his sack as cradled her head against his pelvis bone. Her eyes rolled up her skull and he swore he would have a corpse around his pulsating cock any minute now. Showing some mercy, he released her, and she gulped down deep breaths of air — coughing them right back out again. Her teary eyes looked longingly at his cock, bobbing and pulsating still, thick drops of precum dripping onto the hard wooden floor. Before she could do much of anything he leaned down and seized her by her claves. Pulling her, with her back on the floor now, closer to him. 
His hands pawed at her thighs and trapped fistfuls of plush fat for leverage. Her lower half hung in the air, and he had a full view of her creaming cunt. Gwayne halted for a short moment, asking himself if he wanted to taste her first, lick up the viscous fluids of her drooling cunt, dripping onto the floor. He discarded the idea and chose to position his cock at her entrance. In one harsh thrust he was inside of her, setting a brutal pace. The small hut was filled with wet slapping noises, moans and groans. Gwayne fucked her as if he intended on killing her. Her body like putty in his string hands and her cunt growing hotter and tighter around his swollen cock. He crouched down lower and threw one of her legs over his shoulder, rutting so deep into her she swore she would never be able to feel whole again without his cock in her. Her desperate whimpers turned into incoherent screams. They ran down deep into Gwayne’s bones and spurred him on as he felt his release coming. His final thrusts were brutal, kissing her cervix and bruising her pelvic bone in it’s wake. He grabbed her throat again and squeezed as his sack tightened and he released hot spurts of thick cum into her womb. They both stayed like this for many moments. He could still feel her walls convulsing around his softening cock, her soft hands laying atop his around her throat, wordlessly begging to release her. When he did, her body fell to the ground with a thud. Her legs still open, arms crossed above her head and her wounds weeping again. Sweat, blood and cum dripping out of her and mingling into a visceral painting of lust. Gwayne brushed his damp hair out of his face and slowly redressed. How he wished to paint the scene before him to take with him out on the battlefields. Alas — he grabbed his sword and pointed it down at her belly, slowly tracing a line up between her breasts and resting below her chin. „I don’t want any red-headed bastards running around, make sure to take care of it.“. „I-i will, don’t worry.“ He nodded curtly and threw her one last glance before leaving her hut. Her heart was still beating like a rabbit running away from a pack of wolves. She hoped the beast would trace her scent and find his way to her again soon.
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khaylin27 · 4 months
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Guilty as Sin?
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pairing: oscar piastri x norris reader; lando norris x sister reader; talks about carlos sainz x norris reader past relationship
series: the tortured poets department and part two of so long, london
synopsis: after the tragedy of y/n norris and carlos sainz, y/n moves on with her brother's new teammate, oscar piastri. can she feel guilty as sin in this new relationship?
warnings: drinking; a small segment of smut; the media being snakes
author's note: none i'm just happy that y/n is finally happy 😭
Drowning in the Blue Nile He sent me 'Downtown Lights' I hadn't heard it in a while
After Lando's birthday celebration, Oscar decided to drive you guys back to your hotel since he was the only sober one between the three of you. As Oscar drives his McLaren Artura down the Las Vegas strip, one of your favorite songs 'The Downtown Lights' by the Blue Nile started playing. "This is one of my favorite songs."
"This is your favorite song too?" The Aussie says surprised.
"Yeah, but I haven't heard it in a while. My ex boyfriend hated this song because it was 'too chill' for his music taste." You say recalling the time Carlos got mad at you for playing this song while he was driving. It still hurt thinking about Carlos. How can you stop forgetting someone you've loved for so long? "Is it possible to turn it up?" You ask so you can numb the pain that you felt from Carlos.
"Will Lando wake up if you turn up the volume?" Oscar asks you and you turn around to see what he was doing. Lando was knocked out drunk from partying too hard.
You giggle at his question, "I'm pretty sure he'll be okay." Oscar smiles at the giggle you made. "I'm going to turn it up." The Aussie nods and you both start singing the lyrics to the song.
"Sometimes I walk away. When all I really wanna do. Is love and hold you right. There is just one thing I can say. Nobody loves you this way. It's alright, can't you see? The downtown lights" You and Oscar sing the lyrics in unison and smile at each other.
Little did you know everything was going to be alright with Oscar by your side.
This cage was once just fine Am I allowed to cry? I dream of cracking locks Throwing my life to the wolves Or the ocean rocks
The night of the Las Vegas Grand Prix, it felt like you were in cage with all the lights and cameras on you. This was your first time back in the paddock after the tragedy that happened in July 2022.
Oscar walks out of room in the paddock he hears you crying in Lando's room. "Hey Y/N. Are you okay in there?" He doesn't hear anything from you which starts to worry him. "I'm coming in."
When he enters the room, he sees you crying on the couch and sits next to you. "What's going on pretty girl?"
"I hate him so much. I spent so much of my youth throwing my life for him and Ferrari and he has the audacity to talk crap about me to the storm of reporters outside." When you were trying to walk through the paddock to get to the McLaren garages earlier, one of the reporters asked if you had any comments about Carlos talking about you to other reporters. You were confused at first, but once you got the time to watch what Carlos said in interviews it got you so angry. He started bad mouthing you and your three year relationship you had with him. He even started bad mouthing your brother and the McLaren team.
As you're still crying, Oscar decides to give you a hug. "I understand that you went through a lot in your relationship with Carlos and still are. It isn't right for Carlos to bad mouth you or anything related to you. That's very immature of him." Oscar wipes the tears that fall from your face. "It's okay to feel this way Y/N. You're allowed to cry. But it's time to crack these locks from Carlos and start throwing rocks at that past relationship."
You smile a bit at what Oscar was telling you. "You're right, Oscar." You stand up and fix yourself up.
Before you both leave the room, Oscar kisses your temple. "I'm always here for you Y/N." You felt butterflies after Oscar kissed your temple.
What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh Only in my mind? One slip and falling back into the hedge maze Oh what a way to die
After Lando and Oscar got 5th and 6th place at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, you guys decided to hang out back at the hotel. Little Lando fell asleep after a couple rounds of alcohol, it was only you and Oscar talking.
You were a little tipsy from the rounds of alcohol you had and you accidentally told Oscar something that was only for your mind. "You know Oscar. The past two weeks, I've started to have a crush on you." Oscar was shocked when you told him, but you couldn't care since you were tipsy.
"Sometimes I wonder if you're written 'mine' on my upper thigh." Oscar laughs at your little pick up line and you notice. "Hey don't laugh at me trying to confess that I like you." You lightly slap him and he politely apologizes to you. "But only in my mine?" You question yourself.
"Why only in your mind?" he asks you.
"I don't want to move too fast. One slip and I'm falling back in love with one of my brother's teammates." As the words leave your mouth, Oscar kisses you in the lips.
"Oh what a way to die then." You both smile at each other and he kisses you once again.
I keep these longings locked In lowercase inside a vault Someone told me There's no such thing as bad thoughts Only your actions talk
During winter break, you decided to spend some private one on one time with Oscar in Australia. Before you two left you had to tell Lando about your fresh relationship with Oscar. Lando was shocked that you two were together since he was 23 and you were 26 but overall supportive for you. Lando did have to give Oscar the "if you hurt my sister, I'm going to kill you" talk. Oscar jokingly responded back "it's okay. I like my women a little older." Which got all of you laughing.
As you watch Daniel and Oscar paddle board on the Australian coast line, you were talking with Heidi. "So how long are you going to keep your relationship a secret?" she asks you.
"Well our relationship is new. I like keeping our relationship locked, only for us to enjoy for now. Let's call the vault our relationship in 'y/nscar' with a lowercase too." You both giggle about the vault idea.
"You look happier Y/N. I know that you're still grieving the years you had with 'the man that shall not be named.'" You both laugh about 'the man that shall not be named,' but it fells good to finally be able to laugh about your ex, but you had a feeling you were moving on too fast.
"Do you think I'm moving on too fast with Oscar?" You ask Heidi.
"Someone told me. There's no such thing as bad thoughts. Only your actions talk. You're really in love with Oscar and you're finally healing." She explains to you.
You both look at the Australian coast line and see your men coming back to where you were sitting. "You guys enjoying the view?" Daniel asks the both of you.
"Definitely." You answer Daniel's question and give a kiss to Oscar.
"I love you honey." Oscar says and kisses you again.
"I love you too."
My bedsheets are ablaze I've screamed his name Building up like waves Crashing over my grave
That night after spending time with Daniel and Heidi, you both decided to take your relationship to the next step and have sex. Let me tell you it was the best you ever had.
For once a man put your needs first before his own. As Oscar was eating your pussy out, you screamed his name like never before. Carlos never got down on you once during your relationship.
After Oscar ate you out, he decided to insert himself in you. The waves of pleasure were building up as he kept thrusting himself inside you. You both spent hours making love.
"How was it?" Oscar asks once you both reach your climax.
You kiss him passionately, "It was the best sex I've ever had love. I could rest in peace now." You say jokingly and he laughs. "I love you so much."
"No I love you more." You two laugh again and kiss once again.
What if I roll the stone away? They're gonna crucify me anyway What if the way you hold me Is actually what's holy?
Your private love didn't last for long as f1drama instagram reporters on the two of you.
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f1drama BREAKING NEWS: McLaren driver, Oscar Piastri, spotted with his teammate's sister, Y/N Norris in Australia earlier today. Sources at the scene say that they were on a date and were very loving to each other.
It's embarrassing to see Lando Norris' older sister not only with another driver on the grid but someone 3 years younger than her. Carlos Sainz, her ex fiancé, definitely dodged a bullet on marrying Y/N Norris.
"That's so disrespectful for the media to be following us while we're on break." Oscar says angry that the media was following you two around Australia. "It's disgusting what they put in the caption of the post. They even added Carlos in there which is such a low blow."
You try to calm Oscar down by hugging him and pressing kisses to his jaw. "It's okay love. I knew the media would react like this once they found out."
"I just thought we would have time to keep our relationship private." Oscar says as he rests his chin on your head and continues to hug you.
"I know. All I need is you right now." You say as Oscar holds you tighter. The way that Oscar holds you felt holy to you. You felt like everything would be okay with just him by your side.
I choose you and me religiously
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yourinstagram i choose you and me, religiously. @oscarpiastri
oscarpiastri love you always and forever honey 🩵
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landonorris yay i finally got to keep a secret for so long!
liked by author
yourinstagram i'm surprised. very proud of you little bro.
danielricciardo wow no photo creds @yourinstagram 😒
heidiberger_ let her be down bad for oscar 😭 liked by author yourinstagram what my girlfriend said @danielricciardo 😌 danielricciardo @yourinstagram hey she was my girlfriend first!
taylorswift the guilty as sin lyric 🥺🩶
liked by author and oscarpiastri
user1 mother approves of my other mother being happy 🥹
user2 @taylorswift ARE YOU HINTING THAT GUILTY AS SIN? IS ABOUT THEM !??
user3 she's glowing in her new relationship rn
user4 @yourintagram i don't get the hate about her moving on with oscar 😭 she's more happier with him than when she was with carlos
tagged: @omgsuperstarg @splaterparty0-0 @2pagenumb
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i love the idea of a werewolf best friend who is totally in love with you and keeps trying to court you but since you're human you're just thinking he's being thoughtful or something
but he busts every night to the thought of you crying into the pillow, his heavy body pressing onto you and pushing you to the mattress, as he fucks his fat cock into you, trying to knot you and knock you up
want so badly to mark you as his that when he even gets a glimpse of your neck/shoulders he salivates and gets hard
werewolf courting is a subtle thing- really it's more about keeping others away from you than winning you over. you don't see all the sharp glares he sends to other people. or the way he snaps at his other friends for mentioning how cute you look.
he's sweet to you. he gives you bites off his plate. and almost always brings you a drink or snack when you hang out together. he'd be leaving kills on your doorstep but apparently it "freaks out the neighbors" and "you don't know what to do with a whole deer carcass" or whatever. humans are so hard to please. those silly little candies you like can't be very filling but he can't shake the urge to feed you. so he does.
He's also very protective. he always walks/ drives you home at the end of the night. he'll be by your side in an instant if you call for him and god help any idiot who tries to fuck with you.
Also, his home is always open to you. if you ever want to come over randomly or borrow something- what's his is yours. you don't realize how territorial he is with everyone else because he's always so generous and giving with you. especially with clothes!! if you want a sweatshirt or a pair of shorts, they're yours. he loves little things like that to make you smell like him.
To any other werewolf, any one of these things would be a clear indication of romantic interest. I mean- the guy lets you eat off his plate! do you have any idea how territorial wolves are with food? No! Of course, you don't you're human. all of it feels normal to you. there might be other things that you take for flirting that he's doing on accident. but really you think of him as a really good friend.
it's hell on your werewolf. He doesn't know what he's doing wrong. he's a perfect mate for you, but you never seem to acknowledge his flirting as something romantic. he hates it when you stretch your head to the side, baring your neck to him, it's like you're begging to be marked. and by "hates" I do mean it gets his mind spinning. it's like you have no idea how hard it is not to bite you sometimes.
He can't help himself. he will keep going until you accept him because he knows that you're the one for him. so he walks you home for the night then goes back to his place, alone, and lays in bed thinking about you.
at first, it's nothing dirty. he's just wondering what the two of you will do when you hang out next, then he's wondering what you're doing right now. did you take a shower? did you go straight to bed? what do you sleep in when you're all alone? what if you sleep in just your underwear- or naked.
he's hard. he always is when he lets himself think about you too much. he can't help it. so he starts touching himself while he lets his mind wander.
it would feel good to bite your neck. it would feel better to bite the soft sensitive skin of your inner thigh. he wants to mark you while he fucks you. he wants to own you inside and out. he knows you'd take his cock well. it's big but you don't mind, right? you'd like a little pain with your pleasure.
he thinks about all the different positions he could put you in. he thinks about you ridding his cock, about flipping you over and pinning your knees to your chest so he can see your face as he ruins you.
he cums all over himself imagining you screaming- begging him to knot you. he can only hope one day his little fantasy will become a reality.
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chloe-skywalker · 1 year
Text
Awkward Situation - Paul Lahote
Paul x reader!Fem!Swan
Warnings: none
Word count: 1,541
Requested: Twilight imagine the part in New Moon where Bella slaps Paul and her little sister is their w/her Paul imprints on the reader and jacob isn’t happy about it and stuff like that. - @cokecola4211
Authors Note: I enjoyed writing this I tried to make it different from what I’ve read before. Thank you for requesting! Sorry it took awhile to post my queue has been FULL lol
Masterlist
Twilight Masterlist
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“Bella, maybe Jake just wants to be alone- or maybe some guy time.” Y/n suggested it to her slightly older sister. Bella and Y/n were hardly even a year apart in age but that didn’t stop Y/n from occasionally getting treated like a baby compared to Bella.
Y/n knew Jake and Bella had been spending a lot of time together recently and it seemed to be good for her sister after the Cullens left. But Jake had become sick or at least that's what he and Billy had been telling Bella. Y/n wanted to just leave it, he’d come back on his own either way. But her sister, no Bella , needed answers now and she wasn't going to wait to get them on Jacobs time.
Bella shook her head with a tight expression on her face. “No, Y/n. Something's up. Somethings wrong I can feel it.”
“Bella, we’ve both known Jake practically our whole lives maybe he’s just-” Y/n shook her head lifting her hand in q wave motion before dropping it down to her lap. “I don’t know, going through puberty?”
“His dad keeps saying he has mono but it’s been almost 2 weeks and he won’t even answer texts. Let alone calls.” Bella explained further as she pulled into the Black’s driveway.
“Maybe he’s still sick.” Y/n tried one last time as Bella put the car in park.
“Well, we're going to find out.” Bella stated before she got out of the car.
Y/n unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car to chase her sister muttering to herself. “This isn’t gonna go well.”
Bella knocked on the door and shortly after Billy opened the door. Bella had told the man in the wheelchair that she needed to see Jake, but all she got was that he wasn’t there. Next thing Y/n knew her sister had welcomed herself into the home practically going right over Billy.
“Bella.” Billy called after her but it was too late and Bella wasn’t listening anyways.
“I’m sorry, Billy.” Y/n said apologizing for her sister's actions.
Billy let out a sigh and sent a tired smile to the younger Swan. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n.”
It wasn’t even a few minutes later that Bella stormed out of the house and Y/n followed yelling after her. “Bella!”
“Hey!” Bella shouted and shoved one of the shirtless males Y/n somewhat recognized. “What did you do to him?!”
That's all Y/n could really hear from so far back. So she shouted out to her sister again, hoping to defuse the situation if she couldn’t just get her to leave. “Bella!” 
“Y/n wha-” Jake spoke out suddenly standing beside the Y/h/c-ed girl.
“She dragged me here with her.” That's all Y/n had to say for Jake to understand what was happening. Charlie got Y/n in the devoirce so Y/n and Jake grew up together their whole lives as siblings in Forks. They could understand what the other was saying with just a look.
Jake nodded before looking back at the scene and then pointed “And that?”
“She slapped that Paul guy.” Y/n told him and that changed his demeanor.
“Crap. Y/n, stay back.” Jake said as he noticed Paul shaking.
Y/n wondered why but then she made eye contact with the Paul guy her sister was taking her anger out on. It was as if time showed for a minute. All the members of the pack put it together, and that's when Jacob flipped and inevitably so did Paul.
Seeing them turn into giant wolves Y/n ran to her sister. “Bella, you okay?” Her attention was drawn back to the wolves fighting not far from everyone. “Woah. Now that's cool.”
“Really, Y/n?” Bella asked, turning her head to face her sister in disbelief at how her sister wasn’t scared.
“What?” Y/n shrugged. In her opinion that was cool. Way cooler than Vampire super speed, the eyes, and sparkling under the sunlight someone dumped a 1,000 pounds of glitter on you. The Paul guy and Jake turned into Wolves! And not just wolves, Giant wolves. That's impressive.
“What just happened?” Bella asked Sam Uley she believed his name was. All the while Y/n was confused as to the looks she was getting from the others, a few she had grown up with just like Jake. 
“Paul imprinted.” Sam stated looking at Bella. Then Jacob came out of the woods still looking pissed off.
“On Y/n.” Jake grumbled, clearly pissed off at the new found fact.
“Take her back to Emily’s. Bella too.” Sam told Jacob which resulted in a very loud scoff from the younger male. “That's an order Jacob. Embry go with them.”
“Hey, Em.” Y/n nodded to Embry. They have been friends for years. It brought comfort to Y/n, knowing someone else. Someone that wasn’t pissed that would be in the car with her, her sister, and Jake.
“Hey, Y/n/n.” Embry smiled. He had missed seeing her around since he phased.
“Why is Jake so pissed?” Y/n asked Embry hoping he could fill her in on what's going on exactly.
Embry sighed before explaining. “Him and Paul don’t get along, and he’s protective of you. As he should be, you're like brother and sister.”
“Why would he be protective over me when it comes to Paul? I’ve never met Paul before.” Y/n squinted with a furrowed expression as she questioned Embry confused.
“Paul should be the one to explain it to you. It’s not my place, or anyone else's in the pack.” Embry felt bad for Y/n. She had no idea what was going on and it very much involved her. But like he said it wasn’t his place to explain any of this to her. 
Y/n nodded in understanding, kind of. But maybe he could explain something else to her. “Can you explain the pack part to me then?”
Embry nodded with a smile stretching across his lips. “Yes, I can do that.”
It wasn’t a long drive but long enough for Embry to explain about the pack to Y/n.
“Who’s place is this again?” Y/n heard Bella ask and she listened for Jake’s answer.
“Emily and Sam’s.” Jake answered as he got out of the truck.
Jake and Embry helped Y/n off of the truck bed. With a quiet thank you from Y/n they all headed inside. The only ones that weren’t there was Sam and Paul. But it didn’t take long for them to join in on the group.
“Can I talk to you? Outside. Alone.” Paul asked nervously looking softly at Y/n, to let her know she could reject his request if she wanted to. Y/n nodded ‘yes’ getting up to follow him.
“Over my dead body.” Jake growled, glaring with his eyes set on burning holes into Paul.
“Jake.” Sam said his name firmly. Making Jake stand down. For now.
“Come on.” Paul nodded his head towards outside Y/n nodded as well and followed him outside the small nice home.
They walked into the woods for awhile, Y/n assumed long enough to be far away enough so the rest of the pack couldn’t hear their conversation. “So, I assume that they explained the whole pack thing to you?”
“Embry did, yeah. But not the imprint part?” Y/n spoke with a unsure tone, hoping she got the word right. Paul nodded with a twitch of his lips. “Not the imprint part. What is that by the way?”
“Guess I should explain that part then.” Paul smiled, hearing her just say the word of what she is to him. That made him feel warm on the inside, which was a new feeling for him. He did like it though.
“Embry said it was only your place to tell me what it is.” Y/n looked to the still shirtless male with curiosity. What did it mean? What did it have to do with her? And why did Paul have to be the one to explain it?
“I have a spot I’d like to take you, and I’ll explain on the way.” Paul suggested there was a place he wanted to show her that only he knew about. Great view that he never that he never showed anyone.
“Ok” Y/n knew she was being way trusting with this stranger. But he felt trustworthy. She didn’t know why but he does.
Paul stopped them for a second in their tracks. He really needed to know something and it was bothering him that he didn’t. “I do have a question before we get too far that I should know that I do not.”
Y/n let out an amused breath before asking. “And what's that?” 
“Your name.” Paul smirked
Y/n nodded with a smile. “Y/n. Y/n Swan.”
“Well, Y/n Swan. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Paul’s smirk fell into a smile. He always teased the others who already had their imprints about how whipped they were, but now he was starting to understand.
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