#‘if you die without kissing me i will sentence you to death’

[gdn7-dollopole]

I should find another hobby

Anyway, if Merlin was set in modern times, Arthur would have called Merlin his “gay awakening”.

[witchesverse]

someone loved me, someone fucking loved me.

pairing: rio vidal x reader

summary: you have lost the two most important people in your life: your wife and son. so, when death visits, you need to hurt her.

content: mentions of death, crying, magic fighting, punching in the face, angst without a happy ending, bleeding, heartbreak, mention of agatha harkness x reader.

You felt when she died. It was an uncomfortable, eerily feeling; you felt alone for the first time in centuries.

You ignored the feeling. You didn't want to believe she was dead. You couldn't believe she was dead. Agatha Harkness doesn't just die.

You felt her presence before you saw her. It was a gloomy, depressing feeling; you felt desperate for the first time in centuries.

"You can't ignore me, you know," She spoke softly.

You shuddered at the sound of her voice. You hadn't heard it since he died and never wanted to hear it again. Alas, you knew you would. That stupid promise Agatha made Rio promise meant you would.

"Go away, Rio."

Her hand brushed against your arm and you flinched, pulling away from her.

"How?"

The world seemed to pause at your question. The chirping from the birds and the rustling of the trees seemingly vanished.

Rio stuttered an incoherent sentence before taking in a deep breath. "It had to be one of them, okay?"

"What?"

"The kiss of death."

A blast of magic slammed into Rio's chest and sent her flying into the wall. Tears were glistering in your eyes as you stalked towards her, magic surrounding your fingers.

You couldn't kill Death, but you sure as hell could hurt her.

"I fucking hate you." Your voice broke with emotion as you screamed at her.

Another blast of magic hit Rio when she tried to stand, forcing her back to the ground.

"You are an evil, horrible monster and I wish I never met you." You snarled. "You have caused only pain and chaos for my family. You are the worst thing that has ever happened to me."

Rio didn't reply and that only angered you.

You lifted her body and threw her out a window. The glass smashed, piercing her skin. Her body landed in the field of flowers surrounding your house.

Rio was on her feet once you got to her. She was bleeding in multiple places and her own magic surrounded her fingers.

"You don't want to do this," Rio said. "You know who will win."

"I don't need to win." You summoned another ball of magic and aimed it at her, which she dodged.

Your magic wasn't enough to hurt her. You needed to feel her blood on your skin.

You tackled her to the ground and straddled her stomach. You landed a few punches to her face before she managed to grab your wrists and stop you.

"I didn't want it to be her."

You fought in her hold. "Bullshit."

"And I didn't want it to be Nicky, either."

"Don't." You felt your heart breaking into a million pieces at the sound of his name.

The day Death took Nicholas was one of the worst. You cried and begged for her to bring him back—for your boy to come back. Agatha didn't beg, but she cried. You remember holding her in your arms, promising that it would be okay whilst Death stood over you, watching the heartbreak that she caused to happen.

"I never wanted to hurt you." She whispered. "None of you. I wanted you both to be happy."

"I hate you."

Uncontrollable tears fell down your cheeks and you gasped for air in between sobs. Rio brushed away a few tears with her thumb, smiling sadly.

That action broke you.

You wrapped your arms around Rio's neck and buried your face in the crook. She slipped her hands under your shirt and rubbed comforting circles.

"I hate you so much."

Rio hummed. She knew you did.

"She promised me that she would come home. She said that nothing bad would happen to her, but you k-killed her."

Your voice broke again. You couldn't believe those words were leaving your mouth.

"I know, baby."

You cried until you couldn't cry any longer and she held you in her arms the entire time. She kissed your face every time you expressed your hatred for her and she let you make her body bleed with your fingernails and teeth.

She wasn't going to leave. Not this time. She promised that once Agatha died, she would stay with you until your end. Even if you fought her, screamed, and hurt her. She would never leave.

And no matter how big your hatred for her was, her love for you was always 10x bigger.

[normansnt]

Ace

(Alastor x male reader)

Explain to Alastor what Ace means

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"(Y/N)?" Called out Alastor to you

"Yes?" You answered not looking up from what you were reading.

"Would you like to go, get some coffee with me, in, what your generation calls, a date?"

Now to this you looked up.

"What?" You answered very confused

"In a...romantic way?" He tried explaining it to you thinking thats the part you didn't understand.

"I mean...I would love to but you dont have to push yourself if it would make you feel uncomfortable" you answered while you put your book down slowly on the coffee table.

"Uncomfortable? Why would it make me uncomfortable we are close are we not?"

Now he got confused as well.

"Well because...your ace and/or aro?"

"What is with that word, Rosie said it as well and the meaning of it still avoids me" he answered starting to get annoyed by his lack of understanding.

"What- ohhhh what did you say when did you die?"

"1933, however its quite rude to ask someone that." He answered looking at you in a scolding way.

"I'm sorry but because you lived back than thats why you don't know that word, please sit let me explain"

He sat down on the couch in front of you.

"Ok, so when we say 'ace' we refer to someone who has little to no sexual attraction and aromantic or aro is someone who has little to no romantic attraction. Of course there is much more to this subject but this kind of sums it up."

Alastor just stared at you.

Him? Not being interested in romantic relationships or sex??

Thats...true. He never felt the need to sleep with anyone he was doing totally fine without it. Romance...was another category completely however, and he didn't know if it was something he was interested in it or not.

He asked you out in the first place because he felt very good in your presence. He felt comfortable and content. Was that not romance?

"Alastor?" He has been staring at you for a while and it was quite creepy.

"Listen I understand thats a lot of information to process especially if you just realized some things about yourself so I can leave if you like-"

"No" Answered Alastor a bit fast. He has made up his mind. He might not be interested in a sexual relationship however he really wanted to kiss you right now.

"It might be true that I have not known this so far in my life or death, and you did make me realize some things about myself, but even so my offer still stands."

"Oh? Are you sure because I only want to if it doesn't make you uncom-"

You couldn't get the rest of your sentence out due to a pair of lips on yours.

Alastor kissed you.

You were stunned for a second but after you realized what was happening you kissed back immediately.

His lips were surprisingly soft, not to mention he did pretty good looking at the fact that it was his first kiss.

"Trust me, dear, If something would make me uncomfortable I wouldn't do it." He said grinning and holding your chin after you two parted.

You were a blushing mess.

You've never thought about Alastor that way, since you thought he was aromantic. But now that you did, fucking god, you like him.

Whit that thought in mind you kissed him again.

This time you stood up and he put his hands on your waist while yours were on his neck.

It wasn't a heated kiss and it will never be very likely you didn't want to step over his boundaries.

"...So my dear, would you like to get that coffee now?" He asked smiling while offering you his arm.

"I would love to" you smiled back at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Guys I have a serious problem Im literally shitting words I have never written this many fanfics in one go🥹

BUT YK WHAT WORTH IT CUZ I LOVE EM

I literally love almost all characters in hazbin hotel so much I JUST CANNOT STOP💀

Thank you sm for the correction @whyarewehere103 😎🙏🧡

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies,gentleman and other, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡

[reds-skull]

Fanfic Recommendation: Multi-Chapter (Completed)

The comic I'm working on is taking... a long time (understatement of the year, been working on it since July 31st...) so I wanted to make another post like this

Like last time, there's no shared theme between these beside having multiple chapters and being completed (both SFW and NSFW)

As always please check the tags for CWs, and if a link doesn't work you're welcome to reach out!

Every Morning by sauceboss_yahoo - Ghost is back on base with the rest of the 141, ready to fall into his usual routine. Someone else, however, is itching to be a part of it and wants to peel back the curtain concealing him more than he already has, whether Ghost likes it or not.

Mask of my own face by Avidcatperson - Ghost takes great offence to the implication that he’s going to eat his cell mate, who is clearly sentient, with his bare hands. Soap is fairly sure he’s about to die. Chucked into a cell with a human? Pretty much a death sentence…hopefully Gaz can get out at least. [Space AU, multiple works in this series!]

bare my skin by Cristinuke - A study of moments as Ghost learns to trust Soap's touch.

Anomalous by Brigadier - Ghost, a SCP-056, finds a certain human worthy of his love, trust and adoration.

let these hills absolve me by flowersferns - When the news of three weeks’ forced leave reaches Ghost, he’s resigned himself to loneliness in an empty base. That is, until a certain Sergeant offers him an invitation he just can’t seem to refuse. Or: the sheep farming fic nobody asked for [this one hurts so bad but comforts so well]

Punch Drunk by Drolly - If you told Soap the second time he’d see Ghost’s face was in a shitty bar on a shittier block of Chicago… Well, he might have asked for a little more pomp and circumstance. At least then he’d have an excuse for the way he could hear his blood pumping faster in his ears and why he could feel it, hot and burning behind his eyes.

Simon's Gateway by wayfaredsoldier - When things get too rough on retired soldier Simon, his friends help him out and unknowingly provide him a gateway to something, or someone, beautiful. [veteran support hotline operator Soap]

A Bit Too Much by cod_dump - Soap always acts confidently, brave. Almost always has a smile on his face. But the fact is… He’s a bit too much. [locked for non-AO3 users]

Until The Nightfall by Mikhail - Upon realizing their friendship had grown into something deeper and more serious, Ghost is left torn between duty and longing. With each mission, Ghost is reminded of all the things he can't control, and it's becoming clear that this - whatever it is - he has with Soap, just might be one of them.

Philematology by ErlKönig (Herm_own_ninny) - Ghost kisses Soap while begrudgingly playing spin the bottle, and tries to repeat it with other party games.

stick up by amongthebooks - While off base, the 141 are unexpectedly caught up in a robbery. The raiders clock Soap, Gaz and Price as SAS operatives…but without his usual gear, Ghost was seen as just another guy. His team is rounded up, whilst he's treated as a civilian. Can Ghost take down the attackers and rescue his team without exposing his identity?

I Will by lemonwrap - After going missing on a mission, Soap has been gone for an entire year. Ghost finally rescues him, but he’s not quite the same.

The Worthy Vessel by MildLimerence - To take the edge off his maddening attraction to his aloof and inscrutable Lieutenant, Soap decides to try his luck with the local barflies off base. To prevent Soap from fucking anyone else but him, Ghost offers himself up under the guise of mutual stress relief. Soap thinks he’s just taking one for the team, but Ghost has just had everything he’s ever wanted fall right into his lap.

Damaged Goods by Red_Clegane - After an encounter at a club, Soap needs to know if he's actually into men… like into men. In a fit of desperation and homoerotic panic, he arranges a one night stand with a prostitute. It was just supposed to be a one off arrangement. But when Ghost shows up, it sets a series of events into motion that neither men could have predicted. [locked for non-AO3 users]

They Blame it on the Times by WildFlowerSolitude - "We were never anything. You need to get that through your head." Soap laughs hollowly into the empty corridor. I can live with that OR Ghost says some fucked up shit and Soap crumbles.

home is where the heart is by Anonymous - Soap vanishes from base one day. The Captain says its nothing to be concerned about. Ghost disagreed. [literally so so good]

Personal Affairs by sannikovs_bastard_son - Ghost got injured on a mission in Spain and was forced to take a temporary leave, leading to some buried feelings being brought to light, and Soap doesn't make his inner turmoil any easier by being the casual flirt he is.

Tug A Little Harder by puffyfish2006 - Ghost really really really likes Soap's long hair.

Burned and Broken, but Not Beaten by sick_of_sleep - Ghost ends up burning his hand pretty badly and Soap help his lieutenant while it heals. But Soap ends up helping Ghost in more ways than one.

Lofticries by Arodana - The mafia had always escaped John "Soap" MacTavish. No matter what evidence he found, it would disappear. For lack of words, it pissed him off. On top of that, he has to find a serial killer that has been evading the police and any efforts they've made for months. Soap finds himself stuck between his sense of justice when he is offered an opportunity to work with the one man that had been making his police career a living hell. Soap might just get what he wants.

Freely Given by Tatzelwurm - After the stress and danger of Los Almas and Chicago, Soap is finding it near impossible to let go and relax. He can’t sleep, jumping at shadows. Ghost wants to help him, dutiful lieutenant that he is. But Soap can’t bear to take any more from Ghost than he already has. At least, not without feeling exceedingly guilty about it.

Hold my hair up, Darlin (Ice packs on my neck) by JackiboysHorrorHouse - a fic where Soap's wisdom teeth end up having to be removed when he's in the 141, and ghost is the one who takes care of him during recovery!

Misplaced Jealousy by dyn42ty - Soap hinted that he had been crushing on someone within the base to Gaz. Overhearing the conversation, Ghost wonders who has Soap captivated. Not to mention it wasn't him? The more he thought about it, the more angry he had gotten.

lotus flower by exavibus - a new flower shop opens across the street from 141 Tattoo, in london's shoreditch district. one of the florists already seems to have something against him. the feeling's mutual.

Cry by kcisbroken - Ghost always leaves. After an intimate night together, Ghost picks up his things and doesn't look back, leaving Soap to sit in silence and ponder on whether or not it's worth breaking his heart over and over again.

i'm a fire and i'll keep your brittle heart warm by marviless - Soap spends three and a half days in Ghost's house after getting injured on a mission.

used to hide behind a mask by kj_crwn - What a pitiful thought; the scary hound of 141 force turned into a pliant mess by one simple man. “’Bout your scary mug,” Johnny clarifies, as expected. He leans down again and settles against Ghost’s chest, his head resting just beneath Ghost’s chin. “Yer a bloody gorgeous lad, Simon.” Except that Johnny is anything but simple.

We Are Ghost by Murmeloni - Instead of having to crawl out of his own grave, Simon escapes Roba's clutches with the help of Ghost. A klyntar stranded on earth who decided to make Simon his new home. The two of them were content with each other. Until they met Johnny.

Emergency Contact by soapsbeloved - John MacTavish is about as unlucky in love as you could get, never finding someone that would give him enough of a chance for a second date, resorting to sleeping around when he gets stood up. Simon, his best friend, seems to be the only person in the world willing to give Soap a chance, but the dumbass can’t see past the fact that Ghost isn’t very good at talking about things, and is completely and utterly oblivious to how Ghost feels about him.

dicentra by crown_twist - There's someone new joining the 141 and everyone is happy about it. So happy, in fact, that they don't seem to realize one of them is slowly slipping away. Johnny's only all too aware. [I reread this one so many times it's the ultimate hurt Soap fic]

and i wish i could change by SoftKing - Which meant he also noticed when Ghost frowned heavily and murmured, “Not really my thing.” “Oh,” Gaz said with his brows raised. “So you haven’t got one then.” He slapped Price on the shoulder and grinned. “I do.” Ghost interrupted, taking another long sip from his nearly empty glass. “Just think they’re rubbish.” [soulmates AU]

Night Has Always Pushed Up Day by Sillililli - Simon "Ghost" Riley is stuck in a shared hospital room, which has been fine up until then. He'd been alone, alone to fight the shame of having his face uncovered and having failed his team. But they bring someone into his space, a younger soldier, temporarily blind.

Domestic by Sillililli - Simon and John are coworkers. Both ex military, they relate in ways others can't. Soap is facing hard times at home and finds a safe place with Simon.

So Call Me Maybe? by cripplingchips - Ghost is trying to focus on the mission at hand when Soap starts getting a little… strange.

A Kiss For Luck by iamtheidiot - Soap and Ghost start playing gay chicken.

Mission: Cardsharp by nyxite - Soap (accidentally) gets a love reading from a fortune teller.

death is in the air (wish i could be brave) by aetherealmoss - Ghost gets injured severely and is sad and upset about it, until Soap appears at his doorstep and makes it better.

My frozen heart (would melt just for you) by Red_Clegane - After a mission goes wrong in Russia, Soap has to patch Ghost up... and keep him from freezing. Huddled together in a tiny cabin in the middle of the frozen tundra, something warm blossoms. [locked for non-AO3 users]

demolitions threat by amongthebooks - Home on leave, Soap has to instruct Ghost on how to disarm a bomb over the phone. The pair make a good team - but not every mission can end well. Ghost has dug himself out of his grave once already. Can he do it again?

i'm something else when i see you by oh_ellie - The first time Ghost had enough courage to plant his lips against Soap’s they’d both been drinking. They're fairly heavily intoxicated.

In the Middle of the Night by JDigital - “Go!” Came his Sergeant’s gruff exclamation as he threw his elbow into the Shadow’s face, an alarming amount of blood still soaking through his clothes. “Get out of here, go!” A few Shadows stopped their assault on Ghost’s cover to subdue their captive, and he was forced to watch as Soap was brought to his knees by a cruel strike of the stock of one of their rifles. “Ghost, move! Get out of here!”

Racing hearts season by Nuria123 - The F1 COD AU no one asked for SoapGhost style.

Through His Eyes by WhisperedWords12 - Ghost accidentally finds Soap’s sketchbook, is taken aback when he sees a familiar face looking back at him.

Peeping John. by A_BitOfStrange - When he considers it properly, the only person that would be either brave or stupid enough to go into Ghost's room while he’s away would be Johnny. The little fucking shit.

Surviving You by WhisperedWords12 - Ghost forced himself not to feel frustrated, had to admit to himself that Soap might be the most challenging sub he had ever had assigned into one of his units.

Yours Sincerely by LeoDoesGames - Johnny "Soap" MacTavish has been medically discharged following a mission gone wrong, which left him with severe agoraphobia and PTSD. He joins a programme which connects both active service members and veterans through the act of writing letters. Although things get off to a bad start, the connection he forms with his letter mate slowly becomes unbreakable. That is until he gets too close and strikes a nerve. [one of those fics that will not leave your brain for weeks]

Doing Time by MildLimerence - Soulmate AU: On leave from the 141, Soap lands himself in Strangeways prison, home to some of the worst criminals in the UK. When his soulmark activates on the inside, Soap must contend with Ghost, an infamous soulmate-hating killer who seems intent on haunting his every move.

Spiorad agus Corp by Oud_smoker420 - A bet is made between the notoriously reckless Soap and Alejandro to try and get their respective crushes and the most stoic and traumatized men of the 141 in their beds. It definitely has the potential to go so bad.

Smooth Sailing on Choppy Water by coderaven - Soap and Ghost are sent on a mission to the middle of American suburbia to protect a Russian journalist targeted by Makarov. Their cover is that they're newlyweds. And very much in love.

Bathe in Sunlight, Take Deep Breaths by coderaven - Ghost gets honorably discharged after taking a bullet to his shoulder that completely obliterates his rotator cuff and leaves him with nerve damage. He joins a gym to help with his recovery. He meets Soap, ray of sunshine personified, a trainer at the gym. He falls pathetically in love.

Learning Experience by AvaLoren - Soap is forced into a simulated interrogation with his Lieutenant and the information he learns about him isn't what he expected.

If tomorrow you don't open your eyes by Swiftwater_Prawn - Ghost loves Soap but is bad at feelings and gets stuck in a time loop. [multiple works in this series!]

Collecting Strays by WhisperedWords12 - Ghost didn't trust Soap, couldn't know for certain what a year and a half of forced fighting in the pits did to something as volatile as a Wolf. But Price insisted that the man may have valuable intel, might be enough to finally bring down the Fighting Ring where they'd found him.

Driving Myself Home by Aether_Ghoul - Gaz insisted that he was just the thing for Soap. Soap insisted that everyone had a "but" and for the life of him, Gaz wouldn't tell him what this Simon guys "but" was.

all that's said in the low light by headlocket - After a near-fatal injury, John MacTavish finds himself back in his hometown in Scotland. Fresh off an untimely discharge, he's forced to cope with disability, his dysfunctional family, and the lingering knowledge that there are some things he's just not ready to leave behind… [literally if you haven't read this yet what are you doing with your life]

Lay back and think of England by Aether_Ghoul - From the outside, Ghost is well adjusted. He seems like everything recruits and rookies could ever wish to be. Inwardly, he is falling apart. It is when Soap asks him to spend their leaves together, that he makes a decision that will haunt him. Do everything Johnny wants, needs or dreams of because if Ghost is useful, maybe Johnny will finally love him. [this is another one I keep going back to T_T]

Our Time Is Right Now by ChaoticEmeline - A serial killer is making their mark on the newly installed crime factions in London. Smart, savvy, and undetectable in a city covered in CCTV. The man operates…like a ghost. Captain John Price and his team aren't afraid to get their hands dirty and do a little ghost hunting. But what happens when the ghost starts hunting them back?

Spectre-Unit by Zosch - The Spectre-Unit was a task force shrouded in mystery, not much was known about them and it was a rare occasion to witness one of their members in action. Until the Task Force 141 gained a new addition; S-U: 25, John "Soap" MacTavish.

Velocity Of Envy by leathfaic - Soap has a friend with benefits back home in Glasgow and Ghost, Ghost doesn't have a problem with it of course. After all, Johnny is his sergeant and anything else would be unprofessional, wouldn't it?

Crystalline by Sillililli - Soap and Ghost end up captured at the same time and as much as they'd like to save each other, they can't let their captors know they could be used against each other. Easily. Simon concocts a plan to save them that he can't let Johnny in on, hoping the lie won't shatter what little is left of them when it's over.

[jhkfan123]

because i liked a boy | tom blyth

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader

in which: tom rushes to your house after you get threats and insults online due to speculations of a relationship between the two of you

warnings: mentions and readings of death threats, mentions of slut shaming

wc: 1.1k (sorry it's a little short!)

a/n: IT'S MY POOKIE WOOKIE DOOKIE COOKIE SHMOOPIE TOM'S BIRTHDAY! no but seriously happy birthday tom! bros birthday is approximately ONE week from mine. bro's a little aquarius like me. thank you so much for being the best tom! the age gap grows more everyday 🥰...anyway here is a little cute fic for you guys just for his bday!

in less than 24 hours they were everywhere. in your dm's, in tagged posts, on every platform.

it was only yesterday that you and tom decided to go out in public together. for the first time. and now you realized maybe it should be your last, for a while anyway.

the two of you kept a quiet relationship for about a month, up until yesterday, when you decided going out for coffee might be nice. and sure enough, there were cameras.

first fan accounts found it. then smaller celebrity news accounts found it. then e! news found it. soon variety found it. this had all happened while you were asleep. and when you woke up, it wasn't just the posts that you found. you had dm's. lots of them. each one a little worse than the one before it.

you weren't sure what to do. so you picked up your phone and dialed tom.

the phone rung for what felt like ages. then you finally heard the comforting voice you had been longing for.

"hello?" you heard. you felt a little lighter already.

"hi tom. look, i know you're not really on social media but, i just really need you to come over because i need to talk to you." you breathed heavily getting the sentence out as you now began to panic.

"i'll be there in ten minutes. love you." you heard. he hung up the phone. you sat down on the couch in your apartment. you had an urge to go on your phone, but you knew what awaited you. so you resisted.

about ten minutes later, you heard a knock on the door. right on time.

he only knocked out of politeness, he had a key to your unit. "oh, good you're here." you said. he looked at you with a warm smile.

"i came as fast as possible." he came over to the couch and pressed a kiss to your forehead. he sat down next to you and you embraced his warmth. "now, what's wrong." he said. you leaned into his lap.

"so, remember how we went out for coffee yesterday?" you asked. he nodded quickly. "so obviously there were photos which is fine and we expected that but, once people really started noticing, i started getting...threats." you handed him your phone which was now open to your instagram dm's.

"oh, no." he sighed with sadness. "i'm so sorry. do you mind if i look?" he asked. you nodded again. he took your phone from your hand and began to scroll. you saw the screen and began to read along.

user: who tf are you back tf off you slut

_user_: didn't you just break up with your other boyfriend you whore chill share him with us

user123: if you don't back off i'm going to jump you. mwah

tomblythlover: if you hurt him you die

each one got progressively worse. you saw tom's face shift with each one. he pulled you closer to him as he handed your phone back to you. you felt a single tear stream down your face, which tom immediately noticed.

"hey, hey hey." he wiped your tear with his thumb. "you didn't do anything wrong, ok? ignore every single one. you are not a slut, not a whore, not anything they claim you are. and, there is nothing you can do to stop these people. you just have to ignore it." he pulled you closer and tighter to him. "turn your dm's off. or limit them at least." he suggested. "get off social media. take a walk." he kept listing out ideas.

"you're right. i didn't even think of that, turning my dm's off." you said. you went into your settings and turned it off.

"what would you do without me." he joked, sarcastically. you hit him in his leg, the only place you could reach. you smiled up at him.

"i can't believe people would do this." you spoke. it was unbelievable. how could you say something like that to someone you don't even know?

"i can. people are crazy online. they stay stuff that they wouldn't ever say to your face. that's why i stay off of it." he responded.

"should i like, put a statement out?" you questioned. you often looked up to tom for advice about these things. he was only a year older than you, well, almost two, but he seemed much wiser. you loved the way you could look to him for anything.

"only if you want to, love." he assured you. "but if you think it will help you, then do it. do it for yourself, not for others." he continued.

"maybe i should. i will." you opened your story camera and began to type. you thought about what you wanted to say. then your mind drew a blank. "what should i say?" you asked, staring blankly at your screen.

"just say that no one is allowed to insult you just because we're dating, and that you need time to figure out what you are going to do next." he said. he thought of solutions with such ease, taking no time to think. ideas flowed like water out of his mouth. when you finished, you showed it to him, and with his approval, you added it to your story.

even though your dm's were turned off, you still hoped that people would stop attacking you in tagged posts, something that you couldn't stop no matter what.

"thank you, tom, for being here. i'd probably be lying in bed crying right now if it wasn't for you." he smiled down at you.

"i'll always put you first. i don't care what i'm doing. never be afraid to call me, even if i'm busy ok? i promise i'll help, any way i can. and please don't take anything they said to heart. you aren't any of those things, the only thing they got right is that you are my girlfriend." that made you laugh. "now, let's go do something to lift your mood." he pulled himself off the couch and soon helped you up as well. "where do you want to go?" he asked. you thought for a moment. you wanted to be somewhere quiet. with tom.

"i think just a walk around the neighborhood would be nice. no photos, no phones, just us?" you suggested.

"that's the best idea i've ever heard." he hugged you close. then he pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss. he grabbed his keys from the entryway table, grabbed your hand, and walked out the door.

[staypuffy]

Okay, so I know prefacing something with "hear me out" virtually guarantees that not one motherfucker will, but, heart me out...

Jim was default Gabriel. He was Gabriel without all the corruption and pressure and complacency he had from being the Supreme Archangel of Heaven for so many years. When he takes away all his own memories, the things that led to this corrupt person we know from season 1, we're left with the basic blueprint of his personality and that's this: just a nice guy. He was helpful, apologetic, thoughtful, kind and even self-sacrificing to an extent (when he offered himself up to Shax's legion to save everyone.) We can assume then, that this is what Gabriel was like before The Fall.

We see some of Jim, or the old Gabriel, start to come back out during his interactions with Beelzebub, for example, miracling the jukebox because he remembers Beelzebub likes the song. Would the Gabriel who sentenced Aziraphale to burn and told him to "shut his stupid mouth and die already" think to do something like that?

No, because love brought him back to himself.

When he's around Beelzebub, the person he loves, we start to see more of Jim, Gabriel's softer side. Eventually, it is this love for Beelzebub which causes a complete reversion back to his old self. As you can see in Gabriel's final scene, he is very pointedly acting much more like the Jim character we became acquainted with over season 2 than the vindictive, wrathful bureaucratic Gabriel from season 1.

Now that Aziraphale has assumed Gabriel's old position, there is a chance the very same thing could happen to him. That the monotony, the responsibility, the corruption of running Heaven, of having everyone look to him for the answers, could do the very same thing to him that it did to Gabriel. Since Jim and Aziraphale's characters are actually quite close to one another (soft, somewhat childlike and innocent, geuinely kindhearted and good) there is a precedent.

(I think Crowley might suspect all this and it's part of the reason why he's so suspicious of and resentful of Heaven for calling Aziraphale back; because he's too loyal for his own good and can't accept that there's something fundamentally wrong with Heaven as an institution, but that's an entirely different post).

When Aziraphale goes back, Crowley knows this is what he's risking. That he's not only leaving Crowley behind, but that he's risking completely changing who he is because of what that position will do to him. It's why he tries so fucking hard to get him to stay. It's why he kisses him. He does everything he can think of to keep Aziraphale there, he puts everything he has on the line to show Aziraphale how he feels in the hopes that he’ll stay so Heaven won’t corrupt him.

But Aziraphale goes anyways.

IN WHICH CASE...

If Aziraphale does let the position change him, like it did Gabriel, the only way to bring him back from being a hard-bitten, cruel and ruthless husk of his former self would be with Crowley's help (vis a vis Beelzebub, a demon, doing it for Gabriel, an angel). And Crowley, no matter how damaged and heartbroken and traumatized, would do it.

It's hard to imagine Aziraphale becoming this way, but could you imagine Jim in a bedsheet toga with a feather duster sentencing someone to death? Me either.

Is it unlikely? Yes. Will it happen? Probably not. Do I like asking myself rhetorical questions to reinforce my point? Also, yes.

That has been my keynote speech, thank you for hearing me out.

[el-tur-el]

manibus adhuc mollior.

In celebration of 100 followers.

Pairing: AFAB!Tav/Rolan

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, canon-typical depictions of gore and violence, angst. 18+, Minors DNI.

Word Count: 2,861. Read it on AO3.

            The admittance of their feelings for one another had been agonizingly unceremonious; hurried, teary murmurs – quiet and resigned, as if to admit such a thing was to sentence the other to death. There was little time for grandstanding or lavish gestures, the Elderbrain visible in the sky, half the city in ruins. If he had had it his way, he would have courted her properly, he would have wined and dined her. Stargazing and stolen kisses and the slow thaw of their hearts behind their sternums.

            It seemed that lately, not much of anything ever went his way.

            He kissed her, then, and it felt more like a farewell than anything else. Firm and solid, a silent plea for her to come back to him. To not make their first be their last. Please, Tav, just this once, try not to get yourself killed. Please. He had half of a thought, selfish and unbidden, to ask her to stay. To set aside the heroics, to choose him over saving the world.

            But that wasn’t possible. This had always been her fight, and it would be her that saw it to its bitter conclusion, whatever that may be.

            The waiting feels like agony; an ache in his sternum that he has not felt since the Shadowlands when he was waiting to see if Tav came back with Cal and Lia. Hungry, feasting upon premature grief, a blossoming sorrow here before its season. He has no reason to be distraught – she may come back to him in one piece yet, a savior, bright and beautiful and brave. He’ll tend to her wounds and she’ll let out that stilted, relieved laugh that she so often does; the one where it cuts off into a choked, strangled sort of sob. And he’ll hold her. And they’ll have forever at their fingertips, a yawning expanse of possibility far larger than even that of the Weave.

            Or she’ll die, and he will once again learn to navigate the dying embers of loss.

            Hours blur into one another, and he finds himself restless. Pacing the library of the tower, suddenly so terribly unsure of how to take up space. He tries reading, but he cannot bring the words into focus sharply enough to comprehend them. He tries sleeping, but every time he closes his eyes he is haunted by images of her body, spattered with crimson, arms bent at odd angles, eyes lifeless and hollow.

            He settles for waiting on the ground floor, salves and elixirs on standby for her return. He will take care of her. He will prove that he, too, can be gentle. And he will never take her for granted ever again, he swears it.

            All plans of being a doting savior go out the window when she shows up to the tower. Her hair is matted with grime and viscera, her hands shake ever-so-slightly, and he’s certain it is the first time he’s ever seen her so visibly shaken. He assumes that it’s because of the fight, that the very foundations of her being have shifted from such a profound battle – she saved thousands of people, she is, by all accounts, a hero. Surely that is not a title won without hardships.

            But she’s pulling him into her arms hurriedly, burying her face in the crook of his neck as though he is the last thing keeping her grounded on this plane. And her voice trembles as she breathes against his skin, “I wasn’t sure – Gods above, I thought that I might have lost you.”

            “You were worried about me?” He winds his arms around her and holds her firmly. For once he cannot find a biting remark, a scathing retort; she is here, and she is alive, and he’s never been one for religion, but he is thanking every pantheon known to man in this moment. “You were the one out saving the world, Tav. I was worried sick about you.”

            “You? Worrying?” She pulls away from him to look him in the eye, her gaze something bright sparkling beneath the blood and the dirt. Her lips tilt up into a lopsided grin. “I never would have guessed that the revered Master of Ramazith’s Tower would be so prone to something as mundane as feelings.”

            “Yes, well, you have a remarkable knack for making me act rather out of character.” His hand comes up to cup her cheek, thumb smoothing over a nick on her skin, his voice far, far softer than he thinks he has ever allowed it to be.

            He would move the heavens for her if she asked him to.

            They stay like that for a long moment, with her leaning into his touch and an unspoken understanding hanging between them. Words are wholly insufficient here; Common does not hold the syllables required to articulate the relief that weighs in his chest.

            “Are you hurt?” He asks quietly after a while.

            “Nothing that Shadowheart couldn’t heal.” She murmurs in response. “Just some bruises and cuts here and there. I’m fine, Rolan, I’m here. You can stop worrying. I came back to you.”

            “You came back to me.”

            “I promised you I would, didn’t I?” She smiles, soft around the edges.

            “So you did.” A quiet chuckle bubbles up from the back of his throat. The moment feels charged in a way that he cannot quite place; thick and heavy and suffocating. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear that the gloss to his vision is from tears, not weariness.

            She kisses him.

            It isn’t nearly as frantic and demanding as their first – shared in the tense moments before conflict, a demand for more to come. It is gentle, as she so often is; it feels much like coming home. Warm and relaxed, a promise of sorts. He meets it with equal tenderness, his eyes fluttering shut, a breath he did not know he was holding let out into the soft press of her mouth. His tail wraps around her waist as if of its own volition, staking a quiet claim. Alive. Mine. Together.

            She pulls away for a moment, her breathing a little heavier, ghosting against his face; she’s still millimeters away, looking up at him through her lashes, and he silently files the image for later.

            “You should get cleaned up.” He whispers.

            “I should.” She agrees, but then her lips are on his again – hungrier, this time, as if searching for proof that this moment is real; that she survived, that he is flesh and blood before her. Her hands curl loosely into the front of his robes, and he pulls her closer, one hand finding purchase on the space between her shoulder blades, the other tangling in her hair.

            He cannot be bothered to care about the blood – it’s nothing that a simple cast of prestidigitation cannot fix. He focuses on the shift of her ribs with every breath that she takes in, revels in the rise and fall of her chest where it is pressed against him. The feeling of her tucked into his arms, of her kiss, is far headier a blend than any glass of Arabellan Dry.

            Alive.

            She’s fumbling with the ties of his robes, and he remembers himself – where they are, the ash-choked air that seeps in through the cracks at the bottom of the front doors. The smell of flame hanging heavy around them.

            “Tav,” He rasps, pulling away and sucking in a breath. “We shouldn’t – not here.”

            “Why not?” Her hands pause their movements, and his protestations nearly go by the wayside when he sees how utterly debauched she looks in this moment; her lips spit-slick and flush, her pupils blown and eating away at the soft color of her irises. “This is your home, I thought we’d established that?”

            “I know, I just – I would really rather not have our first time be me pressing you against a desk like some depraved animal.”

            He’s thought about what it would be like to have her plenty of times now; what she would look like tangled in the soft silk of his sheets, her hair splayed out around her like a halo, her eyes screwed shut as he disassembled her piece by piece. Put her back together again. He would take her time with her, he would be reverential, he would show her the gratitude that he failed to in the past.

            “You’re a wizard.” She laughs, warm and husky, and the sound goes straight to his stomach. Pools there, cements itself. He feels ungentlemanly in the way his blood is rather quickly rushing southwards.  “Can’t you just… conjure up a bed or something?”

            “I could,” He muses, but decides that such a gesture would be wholly insufficient in displaying his adoration for her. “But we have time. Let us go upstairs.”

            The only magic he allows himself is a quietly uttered cantrip to clean the viscera from the both of them. He is all nerves as he closes the door of his bedroom behind them, suddenly feeling much more like a bumbling, awkward virgin than a prodigy of any kind. And she, always perceptive, picks up on the unease immediately. She settles herself onto the edge of his bed and beckons him to come sit beside her.

            His lips do not leave hers this time as they undress quietly; he is far easier a task than she is – armor is really rather difficult to remove, even more so when all logical thought has gone out the window and every ounce of blood in your body is focused between your thighs.

            When he does pull away to catch his breath, he’s afforded the opportunity to drink her in in all her glory. Bare and breathless before him, her skin a canvas littered with freckles, with cuts, with bruises. Some old and scarred, cigarette-paper thin reminders of the hardships she’s faced. Others new, likely from the ferocity of the fight today, scabbed over and tender still.

            She is the most stunning creature he has ever laid his eyes on.

            She looks apprehensive before him, suddenly a being of profound shyness, and he works to soothe that insecurity immediately; gently, he guides her to lay down on the mattress, and his lips find the soft slope of her neck. She sighs, soft and sweet, and a hand comes to his shoulders, fingers brushing over the leathery flesh of one of his vestigial wings. So sensitive, so unused to touch, he hisses out a breath between his teeth, sensation crackling through him – electric and bright and sharp.

            “Sorry.” She murmurs at the sound.

            “You hardly need to apologize. I rather like it when you touch me.”

            That seems to encourage her; she grows a little bolder, hands skirting over his skin – down his back, the meat of his flanks, the just of his hipbones. Touches every ridge and dip – and there are plenty – with a level of reverence he had never even considered he could be regarded with.

            Her nails graze over the base of his tail, and he has half a mind to be embarrassed by the sound that the action pulls from him; high and needy, his hips rolling against her thigh. She seems to gather some sort of satisfaction from that, because she repeats it, and he has to busy his mouth with other pursuits to keep the last scraps of his composure. He traces a path down her body, open-mouthed kisses against every bruise, every cut; this is not intimacy, this is worship – this is him posturing before her, heart split wide open, vivisection on full display; the edges of him ragged and weeping, hers to feast from as she pleases.

            He comes down to the soft expanse of her thighs, and her hands on him still, her breath hitching in anticipation. He looks up at her with heavily-lidded eyes as he kisses his way up them; a press of teeth here, a touch of tongue there. One her hands slides into his hair, fingers shaking as she gently grasps the strands – not hard enough to pull, but gentle enough to ground herself.

            “May I taste you, Tav?” He rasps, the words rumbling in his chest, his voice hoarse.

            Her teeth sink into her bottom lip and she nods, her other hand grasping loosely into the sheets beneath her. He leans in and presses a kiss to her mound before flattening his tongue and licking a stripe up her slit. She keens, and the fingers tangled into his hair curl around one of his horns, gently tugging him closer.

            He takes her apart slowly, his tongue against her clit, his fingers curled inside of her. She’s a babbling mess, one hand fisted in the sheets, her hips bucking up into the contact. He uses the forearm of his free hand to hold her down gently, each movement laced with heavy deliberation – making mental notes of every sharp inhale, every ragged breath, every whimper.

            He sucks against her clit, and she falls apart without warning. Her head tilts back in a silent cry, her hand clawing against the base of his horn, unsure of whether to pull him against her or push him away. He slowly works her through it, looking up at her as he does – she’s beautiful here, flushed cheeks and heaving breath, white-knuckle grip against the sheets.

            He makes his way back up her body as she comes down, crashing his lips unceremoniously against hers. A jolt goes through him when she moans into his mouth at the taste of herself on his tongue, one of her hands resting on the nape of his neck, the other on his shoulder.

            “Fuck me.” She breathes out against his lips, hoarse and needy. “Please.”

            “Yes.” He pants, and one of his hands comes down to spread her open, the other lining himself up with her. She hooks her leg over his shoulder, and he sinks into her – slow, they have time, he has to remind himself. All they have now is time, he supposes.

            He lets out a choked sound as he bottoms out, one of his hands landing beside her to steady himself. He’s sure he’s a sight, hair falling in his face, having come loose from its tie at some point in the beginning of them kissing. His cheeks flushed, his lips parted, eyes screwed shut.

            “Rolan.” She manages, breathy and thin, her nails digging into his shoulders. He would do anything to hear his name in her voice like this time and time again; drunk on it, lost in it, drowning.

            The time for tenderness has passed. He is reduced to a thing of desperation, the need to let himself have this – to prove that this is real, that she is real – overrides all coherent thought. He rolls his hips against her, no longer having the wherewithal to have shame for the sounds he makes. They blur together anyways; the soft pitch of her moaning, the breath of his groans.

            “Fuck, Tav.” His free hand comes down between her legs, the pads of two callused fingertips finding her clit. “Want you to come for me again. Please.”

            “C-can’t –“ She tries, her voice breaking.

            “You can. You will.” He presses a little more firmly, circles a little tighter. The movement of his hips has become a stilted thing, rhythm quickly leaving him as he nears his own peak. “Please, love. Let me have it, let me feel you.”

            Her breath hitches and her muscles tense, and then she lets out a choked, sharp sound that sounds more like a sob than anything else. He falls apart with her, his hips stuttering, his nails digging into the sheets. He has a moment to settle himself next to her before his strength gives out, and his gaze is hazy as he looks up at the ceiling, his chest heaving with the effort of his breath.

            “I love you.” She breathes out into the stillness of the room, tucking herself against him, her cheek resting against his chest.

            It somehow feels more monumental than the sex, this proclamation – they’d disclosed feelings, yes, but that word, the heaviness of it, had not been uttered by either of them. It feels insufficient, to summarize the ache in his chest that he holds for her with a single word.

            And yet, at the same time, it feels like it is the only one that is correct.

            “I love you too, Tav.” He presses his lips to the crown of her head, his arms wrapping around her, holding her close. “Please don’t go rushing into danger again. I rather like this.”

            “The sex?” She asks with a tired laugh, her lips splitting into a grin.

            “Not just that.” He rolls his eyes at her, his usual snark replaced by something far more boneless, something with far less teeth. “You, in general. Being with you.”

            The sincerity of it makes her stop, and she regards him with a softness that makes his stomach twist into knots. “I promise I won’t go anywhere this time, Rolan. I promise.”

            And he, probably foolishly, believes her.

[iho6hi2]

Infrunami.

Type: Oneshot

Pairing: Matsuno Karamatsu/F! Reader

Summary: Getting kisses from a hot lady? Karamatsu would love that. Almost getting ran over by a hot lady? Not exactly on his bucket list, but Karamatsu checks it regardless.

Warnings: Near Death Experiences, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Light Angst, Drinking, Getting to Know Each Other, Feel-Good, Ridiculous

Word Count: 8,037

A/N: MY HOMESLICE 🧀🧀 Karamatsu deserves someone he can be a flop with T__T BTW Im so insecure about this so pls either give me a 10 page essay on why this sucked or one 'this was cool Lol' otherwise ill kms

Karamatsu ambles near the bridge, his usual hotspot for courting women in this cruel game life likes to call love; or more accurately the place where he stands still like a traffic sign with the hopes of someone giving him the time of day for once (huge spoiler alert: nobody does, as expected).

He chuckles, feigning smug amusement as he runs a hand through his hair in one smooth motion. "The stars must not favor me today, for all of my Karamatsu girls are nowhere to be seen. Heh, if that is the fate of a sinful man, I shall accept it and retreat with peace.''

The looks passersby shoot him border on mentally perturbed and downright horrified, because who the hell monologues atrocities like these out loud? Without being under the influence of something, nonetheless.

With that declaration out of the way, Karamatsu straightens up and decides to head home for the day, deeming it appropriate. What with his love endeavors turning out to be unsuccessful once again, also to no one's big surprise really.

On his way home, whenever the opportunity presents itself, he stops to window-shop every time he passes by a fashion boutique and admires clothes his broke bum probably couldn't afford.

Of course, he attempts not to appear interested, and instead only crosses his arms critically and gives the mannequins clad in clothing the stink eye (even if he's wearing shades of all things) while the workers glance at him warily through the window.

Before another demented sentence is said, suddenly all chaos breaks loose and there are people yelling and instantly he's all too aware of the motorcycle nearing him with each passing second. Karamatsu shrieks so loud he's sure everyone from the next town over had heard him.

"Get out of the way!" The biker shouts and waves a hand to the side for emphasis, and he feels like a fly being swatted away, but even if Karamatsu wanted to move it's almost as if his legs are rooted to the ground.

A wave of panic washes over him and strangely enough there was still enough time for dread to settle in the depths of his stomach. Even if it may be cliché, his life does end up flashing before his eyes － and it's just plain sad how fucking boring it is.

"Get out of the way," you repeat, though you sound more adamant, your tone coated with a sense of urgency.

Ahhh, Mommy! I'll die a virgin, I'll die a loser! Karamatsu cries in his mind. If I survive, I'll get a job, I swear! I'll even stop talking in English, just please! He pleads mentally, to whom is unknown.

Suddenly, you remember that brakes exist and you swerve with such mastery you weren't even aware you possessed up until now, coming to an abrupt stop right in front of your spared victim, tires screeching harshly against the pavement. Karamatsu deadpans, God had a real sense of humor.

He's still frozen in place, barely containing the natural instinct to piss himself. Though he's also pretty sure the urge to urinate will hit him like a shit ton of bricks post-shock.

Fortunately, he's not Ichimatsu and so he doesn't shit himself in front of the cute girl getting off of the motorcycle, even if she barely missed out on becoming his murderer.

You approach him cautiously, expecting the berating of a lifetime. Though judging by his state － him shaking like a leaf despite his thick leather jacket, also not to mention the buckets worth of sweat rolling off him －, you doubt you'll get an earful.

"Are you okay?'' Obviously, he's not. ''You're not hurt or anything, right?''

Karamatsu shakes his head timidly despite not even listening to a word you said. Then, he gulps and raises a trembling hand to his face, lowering his sunglasses just a smidge to take a good peek at you. ''H-Heh, you have, um, nothing to worry about my dear Karamatsu girl..."

You do your best to smile at him in response, but the need to physically recoil is understandably strong. ''Oh, uh, that's good to hear. I'm sorry for, you know, almost killing you and giving you a fright... It happens a lot for some reason.''

You need to get your license revoked, Karamatsu's eye twitches but he smirks regardless, willing to disregard everything that had occurred just because you were one hot lady. Plus, he is a gentleman, if nothing else.

''As if! You have no reason to fret, mon amour. The thrill of living or dying, chasing that high is what makes or breaks a man! Such a thing couldn't possibly scare me."

''Are you sure? 'Cause I'm certain I heard you scream,'' you grin with more teeth than you should. It'd be such a pleasure to knock him down a couple of notches, you think.

''T-T-That was most definitely not a scream, my darling, I assure you! It was but a noise of excitement at the divine gamble, ahahaha, that's all!'' Karamatsu stutters, stumbling over his words.

You blink, positively unimpressed. "You were excited to get ran over?"

After that, an uncomfortable silence stretches between the two of you. You're pulled into reality by the fact that just about anyone could see your number plate, so it was time to leave and flee the supposed crime scene. You're not getting fined for this, hell no. If anything, you're the one who's in desperate need of reparations after this degenerate conversation.

You mount your motorcycle again and look at him with an almost impish smile, ''You have weird tastes, man." And with that last comment, you're gone in the same breath, leaving behind only a cartoonish dust cloud.

Karamatsu's legs give out and he collapses, falling to his knees. Nobody helps him up.

★

Karamatsu doesn't really visit clubs often. Going by himself makes him feel strangely out of place, going with his brothers makes him feel like a circus attraction, though it's not like it has ever bothered him before.

He would usually lie through his teeth and strive to come off as unbothered and remarkably experienced; a well-seasoned veteran among premature ejaculators, but crowded places like these aren't his scene, at all. Never really have been in the first place.

Perhaps that's why he thinks he doesn't belong here as he observes the rest of the partygoers live it up on the dancefloor while babysitting his beer, one sip at a time.

The music isn't even good, Karamatsu frowns and pinches his eyebrows together, deep in thought. Man, did this place fucking suck. How much did they have to cough up in order for others to rate it a 4-star club?

Well, he supposes it doesn't really matter in the end. As long as the booze's good, that's all he needs to forget this horrible day. A 'nice' hangover is all it takes to wipe his memories clean, which isn't much to brag about.

''Oh, it's you!'' Someone exclaims and he whips his head forward before spitting out his alcohol. What are the odds? You point at him, just as shocked as him at this turn of events, ''Mr. Painful!''

Karamatsu chuckles, raising his glass full of beer as a greeting. ''Madame. Charmed to see you here.''

You roll your eyes but that doesn't hinder you from grinning back at him, ''Oh, the pleasure is all mine, trust me.''

''I would hope so. What are the chances of our paths crossing once more? It leads me to believe that this is no chance encounter. Hmph, why it must be fate.'' Karamatsu blabbers on, implementing wild gestures into his dialogue, takes his sunglasses off and his eyes shine with what you presume is a romantic glint.

You cough a little and wipe the bar clean with a towel, ''Yeah, no. I just work here.''

''The universe works in mysterious ways.''

You laugh. ''Whatever helps you sleep at night, buddy.'' Then, you pat the back of his hand twice. You watch him jump up in surprise and tilt your head to the side, confused.

Karamatsu clutches his hand to his chest, but realizes how fucking ridiculous he must look and simply clears his throat with that same proud expression.

You squint your eyes. ''You're not sick, are you?''

Karamatsu hurries to shake his head, which did nothing but give him a sense of déjà vu. ''N-Non, non! Don't worry your pretty little head over my health, angel. I'm nothing else if not alright, haha.''

You narrow your eyes at him further.

His hands are bundled over his crotch and he has one leg crossed over the other and if Twitter had taught you anything useful at all, it would mean that these are early signs of cock shame. And all of his prior mannerisms, could it be that he is... ''A virgin?''

You did not mean to say that out loud.

Karamatsu's face turns blank for a brief second before he's flapping his hands left and right in firm denial. His face is flushed, panicked, and you swear he's on the brink of tears.

When you said that you wanted to knock him off his high horse, this wasn't what you had in mind, at least not exactly. As a matter of fact, you feel sort of bad for the poor guy.

''Hahaha... What are you talking about, my Karamatsu girl? You should be able to tell by now that a man like me is sought after, which is one of the many punishments I must endure!'' He announces, posing with his index and thumb on his chin, a shaky smile slapped on his sweaty face.

You blink, then prop your elbows on the front bar, lean in and ask, ''And in reality?''

Karamatsu sits back down in his stool, then promptly downs the rest of his beer. ''A jobless virgin who lives in his parents' house.''

You register the somber look in his eyes. You sigh under your breath and open up the fridge, pulling out the same brand of beer he had been drinking until now and pass the bottle to him casually.

Karamatsu looks up at you in disbelief, glancing between you and the bottle of beer frantically. You flick his forehead, ''Drink up, it's on the house just this once.''

Karamatsu stiffens and then smiles gently, rubbing his wet eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, snivelling. ''Thank you, my Karamatsu girl!''

You cross your arms and huff, ''It's [Name]. And besides, I almost ran you over earlier today, it's the least I can do for you.''

''Thank you, [Name].'' Karamatsu parrots himself and happily takes a swig of his new, freshly refilled drink.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye while serving other customers. When a majority of the people disperse, leaving the two of you mostly alone again, you quickly scribble down your number on a napkin.

''Here,'' you call out to him as you hand him the piece of paper. When he shoots you a curious look, you redirect your attention elsewhere in mock embarrassment. ''You seem like fun, let's drink together for realsies next time. My treat.''

Karamatsu gasps, screaming like a banshee with a voice mutation and you think he emotes a strange, outdated gag while leaping ten feet in the air.

His head hits the ceiling but he comes back down just as quick, blood dripping down his face. Planks come crashing down on top of him, somehow on fire, and you clench your jaw. This will definitely be deducted from your paycheck.

★

Karamatsu wakes up, but he doesn't remember how or when he got home.

He ruffles his hair, only to find his broken shades and several bandages wrapped around his head. He attempts to jog his memory and yet the only thing he's able to recall is slamming face-first into a roof and... And...

He sits up and Olympic dives straight into the couch, barbarically searching for that blessed piece of paper which could very well change the entire trajectory of his life.

When he pulls it out of his leather jacket's pocket, he breathes heavily and fakes a falsetto, opting to roll around on the floor in some sort of wild frenzy.

This is it. I'm finally presented with an opportunity to abandon my virgin ways, Karamatsu thinks with a serious expression, shadows covering his eyes dramatically.

He raises a lone victorious fist in the air, cutting through the Matrix itself. Then, Karamatsu gulps and surveys the area, noticing that the living room is empty, which can only mean one thing. Now is the perfect time to plan a romantic rendezvous with you.

Tip-toeing his way to the hall where the landline is located, Karamatsu muttered curse words whenever the floorboards creaked under his weight.

When he reaches the house phone, he gently unfolds the napkin and smoothes out the wrinkles, then sucks in a deep breath and forces his balls to turn into pure steel.

Dialing your number with practiced caution, he bites his nails and anxiously taps his foot. The longer he waits for you to pick up, the more he loses hope.

Just as he was about to hang up and snap back to his miserable reality, maybe cry for an hour or two, your voice croaks out a, ''Hello, who is this? I can hear you breathing, creep. Helloooo?''

''A-Ah, [Name]! This is, uh, Karamatsu.'' He stutters and twirls his hair around his finger. ''I was pondering over the possibility of us taking a stroll together, bathing in the sun and sharing masterful pastries－"

''A date. You want us to go on a date.''

''Yes,'' Karamatsu admits, or rather embraces the simplified idea of it all. ''It's okay if you don't want to, of course, m'lady! I-I wouldn't force you or anything, it's entirely up to you.''

You pinch your nose on the other line, ''Karamatsu, shut up, 'kay? Yes, I wanna go on a date with you, otherwise I wouldn't have paid for your broke ass last night. Now give me a time and place.''

''You do? You actually want to willingly hang out with me?'' He questions and you can practically smell his meekness and self-doubt oozing out of him even through the phone.

''You're the one who hit up my line first, no takebacks hotshot.'' You say, half-joking.

''Why, yes of course. As expected of my favourite Karamatsu girl!'' My only Karamatsu girl up-to-date. ''Obviously, you desire to spend every waking moment together with me, just as much as I do.''

''Time and place, please and thank you.'' You cut him off mid-effusion.

After arranging the date and going over the details, Karamatsu giddily spins and hugs himself. Then, he slaps his face and nods to no one in particular, as a form of confirmation to his invisible hype men.

Choromatsu stares at him judgementally from the stairway, face twisted in its usual sociopathic manner.

Osomatsu leans over in order to whisper in his ear, "What's up with him? He's acting weirder than usual."

Choromatsu scowls. "I don't wanna know, besides if we show interest that means we're going to have to put up with him."

Osomatsu nods in agreement and rubs under his nose with a finger, "True. It's way too damn early for his theatrics." Then, he throws in his assholish laugh for good measure.

The two of them choose to close their eyes and pretend this never happened in the first place, trudging up the stairs and going right back into their shared room without a care in the world.

★

You check the time and grimace. He's awfully late for someone who asked you out first. You wouldn't say you're the most punctual person in the world, but even still you decided to get all dolled up and ended up arriving early for a change of pace.

At first, you didn't mind waiting for him. Life happens after all, right? Maybe something came up last minute and he couldn't put it off, but if that were the case he would have informed you beforehand, right? Right?

You feel as though you're a step closer to becoming a wacko, but suddenly shake your head to rid your mind of such thoughts and smile to yourself. He'll show up, you're sure of it.

But after thirty more minutes of this nonsense, you're on the verge of throwing a tantrum and disrupting the public tranquility because you got stood up. What a fucking jerk, you think and puff out your cheeks.

Just as you're about to leave, maybe actually run someone over and kill them to make yourself feel better and perhaps blow all of your money on cheap gigolos, you stop and widen your eyes at the sight that greets you.

There's no mistaking those sequinned pants and shiny cowboy boots. Your date, with his wounds all gone and miraculously healed, saunters over to you like he's a runway model, catwalking with a bit of an attitude as if he didn't keep you waiting for half an hour.

He halts when there's barely any distance between the two of you, takes off his shades and flashes you his pearly whites which emit an ominous sparkle and you're temporarily rendered blind. ''Sorry for the wait.''

You grind your teeth together and force yourself to grin, ''Don't worry about it, but what took you so long.''

Karamatsu nervously chuckles and glances to the side, looking anywhere but you.

How the hell is he supposed to tell you that he spent most of the time hiding and sneaking peeks in your direction, but simply didn't have enough courage to approach you and that it took him at least twenty minutes to muster it? Simple, he won't tell you.

Instead, he strikes a pose under the nonexistent limelight. ''A star like me is obligated to be fashionably late.''

''Well, the star better make sure it doesn't happen again or it'll be one sad day for your fanbase,'' you threaten with an innocent smile, batting your eyelashes.

Karamatsu gulps and nods, but an invisible light bulb turns on above his head and he snaps his fingers. ''Oh, yes! How can I forget? I got a present for you, my Karamatsu girl."

You 'ooh' and 'aah' in curiosity, while he retrieves whatever he brought along with him in the meantime.

When he pulls out a tank top with his face on it, the exact same one he's wearing as well, you don't know what to say in response. In fact, your brain might actually be buffering.

Have we lost the impact of shame in our modern-day society? You think in disdain, fighting off the pain in your ribs.

He blushes and hands it to you nonchalantly, ''Here, wear this so suitors know not to mess with you. Once they see you and I together, matching garments and walking hand in hand, they shall understand who the one true power couple is.''

You blink twice and slowly accept the gift, then without any hesitation whatsoever you put on the tank top and wear it over your clothes. You're in too deep already, anyway.

''Thanks a lot, Karamatsu. I, uh, don't know what to say,'' you fake flattery at his sincere act of courtesy, though you're not necessarily lying either. You genuinely have no idea what to say to this entire ordeal.

''No need to thank me, sunshine.'' He pirouettes in slow motion and when he stops, he stretches his hand out for you to take. There is an aura surrounding you and you can make out dreamy bubbles floating around him. And where did the harp come from? ''Now allow me to whisk you off to paradise.''

You grab his hand and excitedly lead him to your parked motorcycle. ''Great, let's go!'' You pat the pillion and stare at him expectantly.

Upon noticing his silence, you stop ushering him to the seat. ''What's wrong, Karamatsu?''

He scratches his nape and lets his head droop low. ''Is it... Um, do we have to get on top of that...'' He points a weak finger at the bike and trembles. What can he say, he has a fear of motorbikes now.

You pout at his inquiry. ''What, you don't wanna? But I thought you were into stuff like this. Why else would you wear a leather jacket?''

Karamatsu winces and immediately rushes to pacify you. ''No, no! That's not it! I was testing your limits, my dear Karamatsu girl. I apologize if－''

You laugh and place a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. ''I was just kidding, but if you're really scared we don't have to. It's my fault, after all.''

Karamatsu juts his lip and furrows his eyebrows in determination. He draws a breath and wraps his fingers around your wrist with ease, advancing towards the vehicle with you right behind him.

You gaze at him with something akin to awe, or is it incredulity? He plants himself on the seat and looks back to address you.

''A real man knows better than to turn down a lady and disappoint her,'' he states conclusively. You chuckle and follow suit, sitting down on the saddle.

You grip his arms and move them so they're wrapped around your waist. You twist and turn the key and the engine roars to life in one swoop. ''Hold on tight, [Name] boy.'' You tease his way of talking and take off without a second warning.

His head smacks against your back with a rather rough thud and Karamatsu's clasp around your midsection is already tight enough to cut off your air supply. And even if you feel his tears dampening your clothes, you don't comment on it. Instead, you pick up even more speed and in turn, Karamatsu's hug deepens.

''Shouldn't we be wearing safety helmets,'' Karamatsu yells through the lump in his throat, his ears ringing and head spinning.

You shout back at him, ''Who even wears these things nowadays?'' At the lack of your elaboration, he figures you're dead serious and he's petrified all over again.

You laugh maniacally, or at least you do so in his mind, as you go off course, making sharp turns left and right at every corner to wreak havoc on innocent people's lives.

You narrowly dodge two pedestrians and Karamatsu is finally desensitized enough to smile and blush as he takes in the ever-changing view.

There's something sweet in the way you repeat a certain motion whenever you hear him chuckle and cheer, he can't pinpoint if that's the starving desperation that thirsts for touch and companionship or something else entirely.

But then something punctures your tire and he's pulled out of dreamland all at once.

The two of you wobble on the unstable bike for a bit before you pull him by the jacket and jump off the motorcycle, rolling on the ground like you two were in an action movie. The motorcycle continues on its way without your guidance and eventually crashes into a tree, exploding.

A tire with a flame on it flies over your heads and you study the fire, unimpressed with pursed lips. ''Thank god it was a gift from my ex, otherwise I would've been in some deep shit.''

Karamatsu sinks to the ground and curls up in a ball.

★

You plop your ass on the grass next to Karamatsu, handing him a soda you bought from the convenience store nearby. Karamatsu mutters a small 'thank you' and takes a sip.

The two of you sit in complete silence on the riverbank and you're too abashed to begin talking first, finding the whole outcome to be your fault. You've given this man too many apologies for them to feel truthful at this point. Maybe he should do the most logical thing and start evading you. You deserve it.

Amidst your inner conflict, Karamatsu fixes you with a solemn look and chooses to break the ice. ''[Name], am I ugly?''

Taken aback by the unusual question, you cock your head to the side. ''Huh?''

''Tell me, am I ugly?''

You consider him for a moment longer and then gently cup his face with your hands, inspecting it from every possible angle you could manage.

You narrow your eyes in concentration before ruffling his hair. ''Not at all.''

''Really?''

''Not in the slightest. Well, at least I see the appeal." You shrug noncommittally. ''Why're you asking, though? That pretty much came out of nowhere.''

''Because if I'm not ugly, then why would you want to kill me? Every woman I meet either ignores me, beats me half to death or hates me. Why? Am I really that painful? Is that going to be my fate for the entirety of my life?''

You blink and hum in thought, placing a finger on your chin. ''Very, you're real painful but not enough for me to want to kill you, I guess. I think you just have extremely bad luck.''

Karamatsu frowns and crosses his arms, ''You think so? Is it really just bad luck or is there something bigger at play?''

The two of you ponder over what the real cause of Karamatsu's misfortune may be before your stomachs growl in protest simultaneously.

This seems to revive his alter ego because Karamatsu jolts and he appears pleased, almost as if he had been waiting for this exact same moment. He chuckles and spreads eagle, facing the sun. You're concerned he's going to get a heat stroke.

''It's finally my turn,'' Karamatsu announces, though you're not sure he knows what he's talking about. ''I shall take the princess to an exquisite place, where she can try real fine dining!''

He strokes his imaginary facial hair, winking. Even his eyebrows seem more refined. ''Follow my lead, dove.'' You were going to do just that even without him saying anything, but you salute him regardless.

Even though mere minutes ago it was still sunny, for some reason it's already dark out. You and Karamatsu trek for what must have felt like hours until he stops dead in his tracks. You wonder why until you spot the lonely food stall and smile.

You and Karamatsu make yourselves comfortable on the bench and he greets the owner, ''Yo, Chibita! How's your night been so far?''

It just turned nighttime... You deadpan.

''Y'know, dealing with jackasses of your kind－,'' Chibita scoffs before pausing, turning to you with unblinking eyes. Then, after he's done assessing you, he redirects his attention to Karamatsu. ''You payin' for rental girlfriends again? Get some dignity, man.''

You raise an eyebrow in question, but sneer and hide it with your fist. ''Rental girlfriend? That's a good idea, why didn't I think of that?''

Karamatsu's expression sours. ''[Name] isn't a rental. Besides who are you to talk, Chibimi?''

''Shut up, don't remind me! I was in a dark place, idjit,'' Chibita yells in response and smacks him on the head with a ladle and you watch their antics with a hint of amusement.

''Anyway,'' Karamatsu waves him off, despite the large bump he earned on his forehead. ''Give us the best oden and beer you've got in store, I'll make sure my woman eats right tonight.''

You shudder in surprise as Karamatsu takes your hand into his own, gazing at you with what must be an entire galaxy in his eyes and you wonder where he found those E.T. contact lenses. ''Don't hold back, order whatever your heart desires. It's all on me.''

Chibita complies with the request, serving two portions of oden and the beverages Karamatsu asked for. Though, he can't help but want to sate his curiosity. ''With what money?''

''With the money I exploited from my Mommy,'' Karamatsu boasts like that's something to take immense pride in.

After three to four rounds of drinking and pigging out on Chibita's oden, it was time to wrap up and call it a night.

Karamatsu snakes his hands in his pockets in search of the money he claimed to have, but he freezes as he finds nothing instead. Turning his pockets inside out, a fly flutters out of them and Karamatsu pales.

You seem to get the memo and nod conspiratorially his way.

You square your shoulders as Karamatsu nervously clears his throat. ''Chibita...,'' he begins before throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. ''I'm so sorry, I'll pay you back someday!''

Chibita stands still for a couple of seconds, processing. Afterwards, he lunges over the counter and begins chasing you. ''Damn it, idjit! You promised you'd pay, get back here! Damn it!''

With Chibita hot on your heels, Karamatsu goes through several alleyways as last resort shortcuts, and you come to the conclusion that Chibita is probably really scary if Karamatsu's going through so much trouble just to lose him and shake him off your trail.

"You can put me down now," you grumble and make a face. Karamatsu panics, just now realizing what predicament he had put you in, and sets you down with extra care.

"I apologize for that," he huffs out, attempting to catch his breath with his hands on his knees. You rub his back, acting as his emotional support.

Looking around the vicinity in search for any signs of Chibita, you come up empty. Helping Karamatsu to his feet, you deliver the good news. "He's gone, so you can stop looking constipated."

He sighs, relieved. "Such is the result of an eventful night. However, I will make sure your journey back home is undisturbed."

You shake your head in disagreement and throw an arm around his shoulder. "I think you've had enough, tough guy. Here, how about I take you home?"

Karamatsu seems distraught at the very idea of it, but for your sake he flips his hair and leers. "Your wish is my command."

With his directions, you manage to escort him back to his house safe and sound. Karamatsu opens his mouth to blurt out something, but is caught off guard by the abrupt change in the weather.

You both run with impressive speed under his house's roof to take cover and you deduct that the rain wouldn't be letting up for a while.

"Well, this sucks," you point out the obvious. Karamatsu nods wordlessly.

You think about calling a taxi, but something gets draped over you. You look down and are pleasantly astonished to discover that it's Karamatsu's leather jacket.

Said man is quivering in his flimsy excuse of a tank top, licentiously grinning at you with a very obvious snot bubble emerging out of his nostrils. "C-C-Can't le-let my favorite Karamatsu girl catch a cold." He elaborates for whatever reason.

"Well, I can't keep my favorite [Name] boy out for much longer, either." You give him a brief hug and were about to pull away, but Karamatsu is apparently not done dishing out surprises.

He grips your shoulders with resolve, before leaning in and kissing you on the cheek. It's a quick, demure kiss and if you were to blink, you would've missed it.

Nonplussed by his own boldness, Karamatsu stumbles towards the door with two left feet, barely succeeding in opening it.

"Get back home safely, [Name]!" He bids you farewell in true virgin fashion and slams the door shut in your face. You cackle, violently laughing to yourself and then crack a small smile, pressing a palm to your kissed cheek.

You must look like a fool, standing out in the rain while wearing a loser's clothes, but honestly? You've never felt better after such a tragic date.

★

You sigh and sling a towel over your shoulder, more than a little happy to finally clock out. Tonight had been particularly busy for some reason and working with a slight hangover was far from ideal, but it wasn't something you couldn't handle.

You dab your fellow bartender up, not even bothering to spare him a glance, and begin packing up your things with fervor.

He issues you a sly wink, ''Going home so soon, [Last Name]?''

Get a clue, wise guy. You internally roll your eyes, but only offer an exhausted smile. ''Not necessarily, got to make a pit stop on the way home.''

Akihito, you remember, folds his hands behind his head, rocking on his heels. ''Paying your boyfriend a visit?'' He hums cheekily.

You blink. ''Huh?''

He gestures towards the paper bag in your hands, which barely concealed the shitty leather jacket you were so generously lent.

You furrow your brows and scratch your cheek with an awkward expression. ''Wouldn't really call him a boyfriend...''

Akihito stretches, whining, ''You can be so cold, y'know. I feel sorry for the poor guy.''

''Another word and I'll really make you sorry.''

Akihito throws up a peace sign, grinning from ear to ear. ''Night, [Last Name]!''

You grumble under your breath and throw the towel on the ground. Akihito hears you say something along the lines of 'thought so' and other such death threats, but he feeds off your negativism. He odiosynthesizes and you know that, which makes you feel better about brushing him off, at least.

The walk to Karamatsu's place is as unmemorable as can be, and while it wouldn't kill you to see him again and chat for a bit, you don't think you'd be able to put up with him for long (or anyone else for that matter). When you spot his house, you brace yourself before sharply knocking on the door.

Well, you were supposed to knock but somehow developing last-minute Spidey senses, Karamatsu tears open the door to his balcony and puts a stop to your supposedly evil schemes. ''Don't'!'' He manages to both whisper and scream at the same time.

''What are you doing here at this hour, angel? Trying to get me crucified, perhaps?'' Karamatsu interrogates you and considering how disheveled his appearance is, you reach the conclusion that his fictional persona is merely an afterthought at the moment. You find a peace of mind at the conjecture.

''I'm just here to return your jacket,'' you say like it was obvious, which it should have been.

''I see.'' He doesn't see jackshit. ''But I cannot help but wonder why you didn't call beforehand. I, too, need my fair share of beauty sleep, sweetheart.''

Your eye twitches and you ball your fists, but remember to count to ten in your head.

''For your information, I called three times but maybe if someone bothered to pick up, I wouldn't be robbing you of your sweet dreams,'' you hiss in reply, proud of yourself for not chucking his damned jacket in the trash can in his presence.

Karamatsu rubs the crust from his eyes, though he does appear sheepish to a degree. ''My sincere apologies.''

You scoff, glad to have come out on top at this pointless back-and-forth.

Karamatsu anxiously chews on his lower lip, trying his best to conjure up a plan that will avoid his certain death at the hands of his brothers. Not even for waking them up at three in the morning, but for the mere fact that he was 'romancing' a hot chick.

Then he grins and looks down at you like a mad genius. He couldn't be further from the word.

''Climb up and join me on the roof, [Name],'' he suggests and acts as if it was a perfectly reasonable demand.

You undeliberately blank out for a second before chuckling lowly and nodding in understanding. ''I get it now. You're actually fucking nuts and escaped from a correctional facility.''

Look who's talking, Karamatsu wants to retort but he keeps it to himself. He beckons you over encouragingly, ''Please, [Name] dearest. I promise I won't let anything happen to you. I'll be your guardian angel.''

You're acutely aware that something will definitely happen, so you only click your tongue, still apprehensive about the proposition.

Karamatsu continues to stare at you with that tender smile, though it's different this time. His hair is sticking out in different directions, ungroomed. His eyes are heavy, bloodshot and sleep still clings to him as he staggers slightly in his step. But he's smiling at you, it's real.

You put aside your concerns for now and exhale slowly, biting the handles of your paper bag.

You jump and grab a hold of the portico, flailing your legs to help stabilize yourself. Your fingers burn because this is the most physically exerting thing you've done in your life thus far.

You push yourself up on the portico and, just like a mollusk, inch forward bit by bit. Karamatsu tries his hardest not to laugh at your misery, but he's unable to take you seriously. You're moving slower than an old man with two broken legs, plus you look like you have a stick shoved up your ass.

Once you're a safe distance away from the edge, you extend your arms and Karamatsu takes this as his cue to act and be useful.

He grabs your hands and hauls you up on the balcony, but this quest is not over just yet. You have to conquer the final boss; the rooftop.

''I have an idea,'' you both blurt out at random. You don't care much about that, but Karamatsu is over the moon at the perfect synchronization.

Coincidence or not, the two of you end up cooking up the same strategy.

You get on top of Karamatsu's shoulders and with the sudden added height, reaching the roof is a piece of cake. After settling your ass down on the tiles, you grit your teeth and clasp hands with him for the umpteenth time, having him work his way up as well.

With a heave-ho, Karamatsu is free to lie down beside you.

You're hit with a much needed reality check. All of this over a second-hand jacket? Unbelievable.

Tossing the paper bag on his lap carelessly, you scowl. ''You're welcome, asshole.''

''C-Come on, my dear Karamatsu girl. It wasn't that bad, right?''

''Speak for yourself...''

Karamatsu props up his elbows, craning his head up just enough to be able to see you. ''It's such a shame, however. The view from here is perfect, all that's missing is my guitar. Too bad my precious brothers are sleeping soundly.''

''Yeah, about that. I don't know what any of your brothers have to do with this, 'cause whatever the fuck this was could've been easily prevented.'' You cross your arms and turn away from him, establishing a decent amount of room between the two of you.

''You wouldn't understand, darling. Yes, even if I did give you an explanation.'' He responds, and you feel as though he was reading your mind. You shiver at the sheer thought.

The two of you don't indulge in idle chatter afterwards since you're too busy looking back on all of your previous life decisions, trying to figure out what led you to go down such paths. Karamatsu, on the other hand, is gliding himself closer to you.

You notice his ventures and decide to cut him some slack. You shift, erasing the previous space you set and move a hand to place on his shoulder. He hiccups at the touch and begins stammering, playing with his fingers. ''Hahaha... your eyes shine so brightly under the moon's glow.''

You shush him, still not in the mood to listen to his poetic nonsense and bullshit of similar nature.

The two of you stare each other down and Karamatsu does his best to put up a brave front, but you're not blind and you see the way he peers at you from under his lashes, sweating like a musclehead.

Before things could escalate any further, which you doubt is something that would have happened considering who exactly you're dealing with, the both of you slip off the edge.

You're falling and Karamatsu is too, and while you're mostly accepting of the scenario, he isn't. You're more surprised at the fact that this man-child's shrill wails aren't waking up the entire neighbourhood, though they're probably accustomed to these kinds of phenomena by now.

In order to break your fall, Karamatsu adjusts mid-air so as to be under you. He shoves your face into his chest, embracing you but his actions prove to be the wrong move as they merely speed up the process of nosediving into the concrete.

The two of you flop like prepped meatballs on a grill, a sinistrous thump resonating at the dead of night.

You briefly register the sizzling elbow pain you've obtained and Karamatsu's jaw headbutting you at the last second, but other than that you took it pretty well － all thanks to Karamatsu's interference. Perhaps chivalry isn't dead?

While you got out of this with barely any injuries, just small scratches, the same couldn't be said for Karamatsu, who was currently experiencing concussions.

You pat his chest lightly to snatch up his attention. Karamatsu groans, seeing stars floating above him. You make yourself comfortable despite the joint strains, snuggling up to him. ''I'm egging your house soon, be aware.''

He passes out before he could formulate a coherent reply.

★

You haven't seen neither hide nor hair of Karamatsu ever since the rooftop fiasco. And you don't want to sound needy, or downright crazy for that matter, but you miss the man with horrible pick-up lines and over-the-top attitude. Him and his awful sense of fashion, not to mention the strong cologne.

Perhaps you've been infected with some new kind of mental illness, one so new and fresh out of the oven it has yet to be diagnosed by teenage girls with too much free time on their hands.

First, you visit Chibita for any sort of intel he might possess.

''Karamatsu? Sorry, him and his brothers hadn't stopped by as of recent.'' He shrugs apologetically and whips out oden skewers, serving them to you.

You nod and grin at him in understanding, paying for the food before scurrying away on a full stomach.

Next, you consider what other options you have at your disposal. Calling him has proven to be absolutely useless and you're not sure if paying his house a visit would be a good idea, given how worked up he got over such a possibility last time.

You search far and wide, in every nook and cranny, not leaving a single stone unturned. But alas, no dice. Not a trace of him anywhere and you speculate the probability of him glitching into The Backrooms.

You're about to give up, hunting Karamatsu for sport and worrying about him won't do you any good.

You're not getting paid for this, you also don't know him all too well to be actively seeking him out. His dramatic temperament has rubbed off on you, but you're ready to wash it off.

See if I care, you huff and kick a stray can in your way. You're aware of how childishly you're behaving, but you bluff fake indifference as if anyone would be stupid enough to believe you.

You stomp angrily and punt another can with your foot, but accidentally hit someone when doing so.

You flinch and prepare to half-ass an apology before realizing you hit the man you've been getting grey hairs over.

''Karamatsu?'' You blink and crouch down to shake him by the shoulders. ''Hey, what's wrong?''

Karamatsu weakly smiles and shuffles away, offering you a seat next to him on the curb.

You frown, ''Seriously, what happened?''

Karamatsu laughs, manspreading. ''I'm grateful for your concern, but it's... Well, it's simply a foolish thing to be upset about.''

''If it upset you, then it's not dumb.'' You respond, reassuring him to the best of your ability. ''Now, spill the beans.''

''I've been thinking about my personality, I guess?'' He mutters and cracks his knuckles, he tends to fidget quite a lot. ''Like, am I annoying? Trying too hard? Should I stop?''

You listen to him and stay quiet, occassionally rubbing his back. ''I want to be liked.'' You quirk an eyebrow at that, but don't interrupt him otherwise.

''It's lame at my big age to want to be popular, but I wanna be kissed. I wanna have a girlfriend and go on dates, but I'm afraid my personality will drive everyone away."

For fuck's sake, he was called Shittymatsu and frankly, he's surprised you were able to withstand him for so long.

''Karamatsu, want me to be completely honest,'' you ask. He nods rapidly at you. You hum softly, ''I didn't lie before, you are painful. You say so much corny stuff, I'm impressed you can even look yourself in the mirror.''

He cringes, but you pay him no heed. Instead, you continue, ''I mean, really? Who wears tank tops with their face slapped right in the middle, what a fucking dork. But, y'know, I kinda like it now.''

''Huh?''

''I think that type of shit grew on me, for better or worse. I, too, have become a member of the cornball community." You admit and you shudder at your mushy honesty.

You rub the back of your head in embarrassment, "When you say all of these dumb nicknames and act like you own all of Akatsuka Ward a small part of me wishes I die on the spot, but I don't necessarily hate it.''

You hug him and bring him closer to you. You snicker and peck him on the forehead, ''Don't worry so much about who ignores you or hates you is all, when you have someone who likes you despite every cringe one-liner right in front of ya.''

''You're right.'' Karamatsu returns the hug, sniffing and holding back tears. ''[Name]?''

''Yeah?''

''You're a true Karamatsu girl.''

Getting kisses from a hot lady? Karamatsu would love that. And the prospect of you being the one to give them to him, with that warm smile which makes your nose crinkle up, makes the scenario sound even better.

But for now, he's content with you simply pressed up against his side, where he can easily peer over at you and study your face until it's burned and etched forever into his brain. Subtly, of course.

You look up at him with a raised eyebrow after feeling him drill holes in your head since forever, which in turn leads Karamatsu to let out an urbane chuckle and lamely pretend to fix his stray strands of hair, and you can't help but snort at his usual theatrical character.

You sigh and rest your forehead against his. "Painful," you mumble under your breath, though definitely loud enough for him to hear, then giggle.

Karamatsu playfully frowns in response. "My flower, you should know by now that no pain means no gain." He tuts with an exaggerated wag of his finger, eyes animatedly glittering.

You laugh in utter disbelief before shaking your head, wrapping a loose arm around his waist. "Sorry, sorry. You know damn well I don't mean it, right?"

Karamatsu hums and his lips curl upwards to form a small, fond smile. He places his chin on your shoulder and you lean into him even more.

Yeah, Karamatsu could get used to this. For now, that was more than enough for him.

Getting kisses from a hot lady really would be nice, but watching the sun set on the cold pavement with you next to him feels good, too. And hey, you are a hot lady, so what's there to hate?

And to think all of this was thanks to your irresponsible driving.

Osomatsu whistles, nudging Choromatsu as they stared at the two of you from afar. Despite their earlier sentiments, curiosity got the better of them and they decided to investigate their brother's own private time. It's not like he could file a restraining order against them, he would be tortured.

"Kudos to Karamatsu, I actually salute him for managing to bag a real human being. Didn't think he had it in him." Osomatsu snickers, hands deep in his hoodie's pockets.

Choromatsu appears depleted beyond belief, eyeing you both with evident disapproval on his facial features, "What sort of lobotomized romance was this? Felt more like a simulation."

Osomatsu and Choromatsu sigh, both fully synchronized, and groan out, "It should have been me."

[cloudywriting05]

enjoy the silence. ｡˚⋆☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆ peeta mellark. {1}

→ THG peeta x fem-reader 3 parts.

→ 1, 2, 3

→ may be grammar errors

→ tw: mainly fluff, mentions of anxiety, some 18+ content, partial smut etc.

→ summary: you and peeta are the district 12 tributes for the 74th annual hunger games. you have severe anxiety, and peeta knows how to calm you down, somehow.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

You stared aimlessly out of the window hoping, wishing, something or someone would come and save you from your situation. Looking down at the Capitol buildings, inside of the apartments, wondering what your life would've been like had you been one of them instead. Your eyes continued to wander.

The Capitol looked peaceful at night, but it did not bring you an ounce of comfort. You knew you were going to die in that arena in 8 days, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. The thought of your own gruesome death made your heart speed up, along with your body temperature. Your breaths became quicker and suddenly you found yourself holding your chest, begging yourself to stop the incoming attack.

"Hey."

The familiar voice startled you. You turned around and met eyes with Peeta, your fellow tribute. "Oh, hey. What're you doing in here?"

"I just wanted to check in on you, you seemed really out of it at the table."

"I'm fine, I'm just– I'm thinking right now."

"About what?" He asked, still standing in the doorway.

"Come here and look at this." You said. He silently agreed and made his way towards you. He propped himself right beside you and stared out the window patiently.

"What am I looking at?"

"Look at those apartments. They get to go to sleep at night knowing they'll never have to experience what we're about to go through, I'm mad about it."

"Some people are just born lucky and ignorant. They don't have any original or real life experiences and, I'd rather die in the games than like that."

"They're gonna watch me die in a couple of days." you felt that pit in your stomach again by the end of the sentence. Your body tensed up and your heartbeat sped up without any hesitation. Your inhaling got louder and suddenly your hand was right back on your chest.

Peeta's head shot towards you, "Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not. I'm gonna die." You dropped to the floor in a squat and held the sides of your head. You couldn't contain your tears and within an instant, you were a mess. Your head buried between your thighs, and every realisation hitting you like a brick in that exact moment. You were gonna die, and every way that it was possible would not stop running through your head.

You felt arms embrace you. "Listen to me, breathe, it's okay."

"Peeta, I'm gonna die."

"No, you're not. I promise you, you're not. Sh, sh, look outside for me." His hand caressed the top of your head, encouraging you to follow his words. Your watery eyes opened to the view of the Capitol once again. "It's quiet, the entire Capitol is silent. It's never like this."

You sniffled quietly, he was completely right. "It never is, they made so much noise when we came."

"I know, it's silent for us. Enjoy it while we can." You peered up at him, he was already glancing down at you.

It was never like you, never in your character to randomly kiss anyone but in that moment, in that time; it felt right. You slowly leaned, hoping to God he would lean right back. And so he did. You felt his lips press softly against yours. You pulled away suddenly and sprang to your feet as fast as you could.

"This is insane."

"What? Did I do something? I'll leave, I'm sorry." He apologised, his eyebrows furrowed.

"No, it's fine, Peeta. You didn't do anything, it's me. I just kissed you after barely speaking to you back home, it's selfish and weird of me."

He picked himself off the floor right after and stood across from you. "Selfish, how? I've wanted that to happen for the past seven years of my life. Don't act like you don't know how I felt about you before we got here, I made it clear."

"I know, and that's why it's selfish. I don't wanna kiss you because of the situation we're in right now, because I know I wouldn't be able to bring myself to do it back home. It's not like me, Peeta."

"I know how you're like. You would panic over what bread to choose back home for your family. All I could think about while we got here is if you were gonna panic and die on me in the train. Look, If you need space, I'll step out, okay?"

"No. Stay here with me. Please?"

"Always."

Within minutes, you were resting on with Peeta. Your head on his chest, your hand over his heart. His heartbeat calming yours. You didn't want to think about how this was temporary, or the wasted opportunities back home. You were here with him now, he calmed you down and now you're okay.

"Peeta."

"Yeah?" He replied.

"Can we try and win?" You asked. Not for your district, not for anyone, but because you wanted more nights like these. In his embrace, talking to him like this.

"Of course, of course."

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

Fresh Heals of Old Pain

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 21.7k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, references to past sexual abuse, insecurities and trauma exploration, encouragment of cheating/infidelity, commuication failures, unhealthy alcohol consumption, smut, car sex, exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), p in v

Notes: A continuation of my modern!au 'Woes of a Modern Day Love' References to that will be present, but reading that to understand this are not necessary. Previous Installment Here, Series Masterlist Here

If one was to ask him how felt with every ounce of honesty in his chest, Jon Snow would’ve said that sitting there felt akin to a death sentence. As if things were not yet bad enough, the coming company had made complaints that it was going to be far too cold for the approaching party and thus the temperature all throughout the buildings of Castle Black were warm. Far too warm for a group full of men dressed in black uniforms, some made with fine leathers. Then there had been the humiliating act of having to store away all of their weapons as if they were children, as the newcomer did not appreciate strangers yielding weaponry in their presence.

Then came the rules, don’t ask this, don’t speak unless spoken to, don’t step out of line, don’t mention this or that, most of all as Lord Commander Mormont had put it, “The Nights Watch has traditionally been an ancient order sworn, steering clear of the politics of the Seven Kingdoms, and so for these next coming weeks, we will uphold that no matter how much you hate doing it. I don’t care what any of you do or say at home, just don’t do it here.” That had a number of eyes looking between one another.

Before at least Edd had spoken up from where he sat next to Jon with his usual low, and unserious droll. “You planning on leading by example on that one, Lord Commander?” Most of the brothers all chuckled, the Old Bear himself included.

Affirming that he was, but not without a clarification to set the record straight. “I’m not saying that we are going to lick their boots, but be on your best behaviour. We are not allowing them here to make friends, only avoid making an enemy. One week, don’t do anything stupid and it’ll all be over with.”

Still Jon thought, this was an unfair and cruel way to die. Or at least it had felt like he was dying for hours now. His phone going off when it was still dark out this morning, saying that he needed to come in for this meeting, and Jon had all but snapped at the caller with a rough tone husking out in a very impatient anger of what they wanted without even looking at the number. It could only have been a call to come in, vibrating against his night side table over and over and Jon had been unreasonably angry about having to answer it, let alone get up then and there to come in.

Jon had just managed to kiss a path down to drink between your legs, the hope you would wake up just before he would make you cum, when he was told to come in. For this of all meetings.

Finally though, as the meeting dissipated, Jon found himself now in the kitchens by the mostly empty dining hall waiting for the inevitable approach of one of his brothers coming to ask what had him so worked up. He knew his face sat in a permanent scowl the whole morning, and as he grabbed the coffee only lukewarm left did each action have him slamming something either back into place or onto the counter.

He had not supposed to be here today, it was all planned out to not be here. If staying here in the temporary quiet in the kitchens, Jon might be able to have closed his eyes and gone back to the night before. Jon had finally convinced you to come out with him to meet some of his friends from North of the Wall. You had avoided it for weeks, saying that you weren’t sure you were the right person to fit in with them, only for Jon to argue that most of them all hated his guts for years. “If they like me now after all that, they��ll love you right away.”

The nerves had gotten to you, on the drive to the bar Tormund had told Jon they would all meet at, you had been rather quiet. Fingertips tapping against the side of the car your hand rested on with an incessant pattern, each time Jon would glance to you when he knew you didn’t know he was looking you’d have that tense clench in your jaw as if you were biting down hard on your tongue. Which Jon knew you probably were. More then once you had not so subtly glanced down to your clothes or eyes flickering to the side mirrors as if to judge how you had looked again.

Jon didn’t blame you though, it hadn’t exactly been very long. Jon had known you for so many years, since you were children, but this between you was incredibly new in comparison. You had struggled to adjust to being in a relationship with Jon more then he’d seen you struggle to get used to any of the vile men you dated before. So often when alone with him you seemed as if you were unsure how to act at times, and you apologized more then he’s ever heard someone in his life.

Maybe if he was only taking you to see the others you already knew, you’d be more at ease. You knew Grenn and Pyp, you knew Edd and Sam, and of course if Sam had been there so would Gilly and you’d have at least one person more like you to relax with. But as much as the free folk Jon knew wanted to meet you already, Jon knew you did not have a great history with spending time with the friends of men in the Nights Watch. It felt a lifetime ago the day Jon had picked you up from Karl Tanners house and finally brought you home, when not even a year had passed. It had been only three months since the incident with Ramsay Bolton, and only now coming close to a month and a half since you had been with Jon.

But you had nothing to be nervous about, and he loved watching why.

For a while he had watched you across the room with Karsi and a few others. Them showing you a quite unorthodox version of billiards that had you laughing along with them at how aggressive the competition had gotten. During dinner Tormund had been quick to throw teases and jesting insults your way to test how well you could withstand it and you had hurled them right back with an even dryer tone of voice with ease.

Jon and him had been sitting at the table still, drinks in hand as they discussed you. Having mentioned to them the ex boyfriends you used to have, Tormund now that you were away begun to pry most of the details from him. “Oh I knew Tanner. Little fucker he is. Wouldn’t surprise me if he shared her around to those other creeps who were always with him. What was it, Locke and...” Gesturing vaguely in the air reaching in his memory. “You know, the one with the face like a ball sack.”

“Rast.”

Snapping his fingers, Tormund got back around. “Thats the one.” Asking in a low roughness, Jon asked what he meant by share and Tormunds answer had only made Jons hands clench tight enough one could see the strain in his knuckles. “Would pass around our women when they used to come into our territory, and those were all women who could fight back men like that. Can’t imagine she has any size to fight back if Tanner would tell her to get on her knees for his friends-” Jon interrupted with a gruff warning of his name but Tormund passed by it, “You asked what I meant. I told you.”

Only quiet for a second before Jon gritted out, “If he did that to her, why wouldn’t she tell me about it?”

But it was not Tormund who answered. You still over with a few of the others, Karsi had come over obviously hearing the ends of the discussion. “Why would she?” Sitting down, she nodded to the barmen giving her an asking look of wanting another ale, before looking back to Jon. “Her last man knocked her around in the same house as you and she took off for days to avoid talking about it. Do you really think she is going to now admit even worse shit happened to her when she lived hours away from you?”

Jons eyes glanced back over to you, still blissfully unaware of the conversation he was having. The alcohol in your system had given you a buzz, allowing you the freedom and a lack of insecurity to laugh and smile more. Rasping out somewhat muffled into taking sip, “I’m not talking about this anymore.” Both Karsi and Tormund had asked why, and Jon had just slammed the drink down as he pushed himself up without another word. Knowing at least, these people of anyone took no offence to his sudden turn.

He had come up behind you, his hands pulling you back into him by your hips as he leaned down to your ear. Saying he wanted to head home while he was still sober enough to drive you. In reality, by the time Jon had gotten out of the parking lot, he had found a dark side dirt road to pull to the side off before all but dragging you into his lap.

Jon hadn’t asked you about what Tormund or Karsi put in his head, all he could focus on in that moment the second he turned to glance at you was how men like Ramsay and Tanner had no right treating you anywhere close to that way. Jon had only been with you for a little over a month, and even though he had known you most of his life, he knew it was way too soon to tell you he loves you. But that hadn’t meant Jon didn’t pull over almost right away, drag you onto his lap and steal every bit of air in your lungs with his kiss.

The moment you had turned to ask him if somewhat was wrong, did Jon lean over and drag your lips to his. Not sparing a moment, you held onto him as he deepened his kiss without thought. Biting at your lips and sliding his tongue inside your mouth the moment you had gasped at the feeling. Pulling back to just your lips, teeth, tongue all over again, different patterns and lengths of time until you nearly gasped desperate for air as he just barley pulled from your lips. Moving everything from the way in a second, the moment there was room for you, did Jon nearly lunge over and haul you over onto his lap.

Cupping the back of your neck to kiss you again, your hands reached around the back of his neck, only able to hold onto the ride, knowing you couldn’t even move if not his will. Only one hand needed to pull his cock out, already hard and thick, Jon also then pulled from your lips. Looking down to pull up the skirt of your dress enough and almost angrily tore at your underwear until it was in tatters at the bottom of his front seat.

Jons car was not a place he was good at taking his time, and he knew it. Sinking you down on his cock, Jon groaned deeply as you cried out. He was not kind, moving you as if against your will, you held on. Being bounced on his thick length, you were ruining him. Only tiny little sounds coming from you over and over unable to keep your eyes open as Jon felt angry he couldn't watch himself sink inside of you.

Slowing enough, Jon took over. Yanking your shirt up and off your chest, leaving your breasts out for him as he grabbed your hips again. That time, you both knew with your own embarrassment, Jon was watching your breasts as he bounced you on his cock. You were soaking and warm and so tight around him, each clench making it worse, having to fuck up into your harder.

Murmuring in a low rasp as his hands dragged you up and down his length that he wanted to try something new, he wanted to wake you up with his mouth. You had asked breathlessly if he meant the next morning and Jon had rasped out, “Any morning.” You had dropped your head into his shoulder with such a shy nod it had him throbbing inside of you, and Jon pulled you back to his lips knowing he was going to make you cum as he tasted you to wake you up come sunrise.

Your orgasm shattered around you, holding tightly onto him as he fucked you through it, but something in Jons mind through the alcohol in both your systems had snapped. Pulling you from his kiss, Jon looked you up and down. “Lay down.” A breathless ask of what, Jon was almost looking in an anger with his sternness. “In the back, you’re going to lay out for me.”

Pulling you off of him, Jon ensured you carefully without hurting yourself could climb into the back seat before he tucked himself back. Leaving the car with a rough slam of his door, Jons eyes scoured the no one going by, and thought, even if they did, let them look.

Opening the back door, Jon had spared no time in pulling your skirt right off of you as you gasped in suprise. Leaving you bare in his back seat, Jon climbed up over you, slamming and locking the door behind him. A look up the other doors too were locked. There was so little room back here but thats what he wanted. He wanted to have you close and warm against him, even moreso with your bare form below against him fully dressed.

Kissing you again, your hands wound around his neck and holding onto his hair, Jon biting roughly at your bottom lip before shifting slightly. Partially on the ground Jon yanked your leg open wide. Kissing from your calf up to your knee and growing greedy and almost sloppy as his lips dragged up your thigh. Dark eyes watching yours the whole time before he had you out on an obscene display in his car for him. Mouth feasting upon your cunt with a greed, tongue against your clit before sucking the bundle of nerves with such a sudden roughness that you were utterly soaking his mouth already. Out of nowhere Jon dragged an orgasm from you, sinking down more to drink deep from you, a growl in his chest as you came on his tongue. One to the next his mouth brought you too before as you just barley were to cum again he tore his mouth from you.

Your eyes still closed barley catching your breath did Jon pull his cock back out as it strained painful confined against his jeans. Moving again to hover over you, yanking a thigh high up in his hip did Jon run his thumb tight over your clit, rasping roughly as he stared at your eyes barley able to even meet his in the moonlight. “Come on, darling, come on.” Just as your orgasm waved over you, did Jon sink inside of you.

In truth, it took not long for him to follow. A fast pace he couldn’t possibly keep up when you both were this worked up and not sober, but he was rough. No doubt leaving a sting between your legs as the car echoed every sound back to your ears of your cries and his grunts, and fully dressed his clothes scratched at your inner thighs. Pounding so deeply inside, truly Jon had spilled inside of you before he knew it.

Roughly kissing you all the while his hips sunk again and again into yours as he came. By the time Jon got you home, he had fallen asleep unable to let the ecstatic feeling leave his bones, that when he woke up first the next morning, Jon was going to kiss down your body, spread your legs again and drink deeply from your cunt until you woke up, and only then when you came for him awake would Jon sink inside you all over again.

Instead he was here, at the Wall in the now too hot building as every taste of the coffee he drank almost was bitter in comparison to what he truly had wanted that morning and it only made him more angry. The reasons why unknown, but even the Old Bear had picked up on his tenseness. “I’ve never quite seen anyone treat that coffee maker like they hate it as much as you do, Snow.”

A harsh swallow to finish what was left in his mug, he sat it down with a clench back in his jaw. “I apologize-”

“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to your future paycheck that will be taken out of to pay for a new one if you break the damn thing.” Barley a half smirk came across his face, and luckily, the man was smart enough when not to press Jon when this in a mood.

He had the option to leave, approaching his desk Jon considered he idea of going home now very tempting, knowing he’d have you alone for hours. But when he had gotten to his desk, computer off, Jon had glanced to his phone and saw nothing from you yet. Normally when he left you a note if he left earlier then you woke up, you’d text him your response so he knows you read it. Nothing. It was nearly noon, you’d be awake no doubt. But he had nothing. You had posted nothing anywhere either, normally at least replying to someone’s post online out of the hundreds of people you seemed to know. And when he texted you twice, you still didn’t respond.

So Jon turned his computer on, he’d write his report until you did and then he’d finally head out to his car. Or that was his plan. Opening up his browser though, the news story posted all over the main page told him exactly why you didn’t respond, and he felt a dread at not having put it together before. If he wasn’t looking forward to the so called “guest” coming to visit Castle Black before, he certainly was looking forward to it even less now. He knew who was visiting here, but not why they were in Westeros, until now.

“Daenerys Targaryean lands in Westeros, the first challenge against House Baratheon’s governance in three hundred years.”

Pulling into the driveway, the moment Jon stepped from the car did Ghost come barrelling his way. Knocking him nearly over with his enthusiasm as he kneeled down, hands running over his white fur with an affection shining in his eyes and smile. “I know. I missed you too, boy.” Standing up, Jon glanced up to where he could see your window from the side of the house. Your light off, but he knew Robb and Theon weren’t back yet either. Looking down with your name on his lips Jon asked, “Where is she?”

That was when a small whine left the direwolf as Jon nodded for him to show where you were. Out by the back of the property, there was a variety of spaces laid out as if once a great courtyard of a grander manor now split into many buildings and homes. Right up by a cliffside against a path leading up to the wolfswood was a small sitting area not often used by any of the Starks on a normal basis. Too far from either the main family home, or the smaller more apartment style home that he and his brother, and Theon all lived in.

But he could see you over there not even sitting. Pacing back and forth as he could tell you were on the phone and likely had been for a while. He could hear an echo of your voice from where he stood, and you clearly sounded stressed. Were you to have two hands free instead of one he knew you’d be gesturing vaguely all over as if to emphasize whatever point you were arguing. Catching the tail end of something as you had yelled in a frustration, “I don’t care what you think, Joffery. You’ve never taken it seriously-”

Jon looked down to Ghost, whose red eyes gazed up to meet as both wolves felt the worry in how worked up you were but he wasn’t sure interrupting you was a good idea. The feeling in him to go over to you, pull you to him and help you relax was so painfully strong, as was the burning need in his system to finish what you didn’t even yet know he started that morning. His mouth could water thinking about your taste and the longer he watched you not having it the worse that need got.

Beckoning Ghost to follow, he went inside. One by one those whom came inside did not really help the tense feeling in the air. The first was Robb, all but slamming the door behind him and disappearing without even realizing Jon was there into his room, where he heard his phone go off likely as it had been all day. Theon followed next, an agitation in his shoulders but at least he had made his way into the main room after grabbing a much needed drink.

Sighing as he fell down into his own seat, grumbling as he let his head fall back and close his eyes, running his free hand over it. “You’re lucky to be in the Nights Watch. Not having to deal with shit like this.” Still feeling somewhat out of the loop in general, Jon prompted Theon to elaborate.

The mans head shooting up at the sound of the front door opening and closing, Jon not far from where he sat ready to jump up needing to have you to himself for even just a moment. Only you were much like Robb, finding your way into your room with a firm close of your door, within seconds the likely sounds of you on the phone once more muffled to Jons ears.

The urge to look unbelievably grumpy about it was an immense feeling to swallow down.

Theon finally elaborated a little now that the door slamming seemed to have ceased. “You heard about the Targaryean?” Jon nodded. “Apparently she’s been building her case over in Essos about why she should have the right to come here and take back her families seat. Someone forgot to tell her after three hundred years, it isn’t your seat anymore. And now-”

Jon was short and a bit quiet, “Now shes coming here.” Theon asking how Jon knew that, the dreading look came over him too. “She’s coming to the Wall. Apparently her advisor has a connection to Lord Commander Mormont and so he’s bringing her up there to try and start her campaign in an easy spot.”

Both men looked at each other in a knowing. “How long is she up there?” Answering a week, Theon whistled out as he looked away. “Don’t know if I should envy you then. Having to put up with some entitled diplomat for an entire week, or just having to handle the fallout she’s causing the rest of us.”

Back and forth they went over details when the discussion finally came around to them. “Robb’s got pretty much all of your fathers work on his plate out of nowhere and every other bloody House in the North is either calling him or your father about her coming here.” Jon asking your name, but he knew the answer already. “If your last name is Baratheon, then you were all but dragged into the family business all over again.”

You had begun working from home to avoid being part of your uncle and fathers political jobs, but judging by how stressed you looked from what little he saw of you, they had forced your hand into getting involved. By the time Robb had emerged, he looked less irritated and only exhausted now. A hand patting against Jons shoulder before his brother sat on the other side of the couch. “Hope you’ve enjoyed your one month with her, Snow. At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if her father and uncle drag her all the way back to Kings Landing for this one.”

Jons eyes only flew to the hall he knew you were in, even though the door couldn’t be seen from where he sat. Robb said it as a joke, but Jons eyes went a bit wider as his heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t leave now, he had just gotten you. You had only started to find a life again, you had just met some of his friends. Jon felt something he wasn’t able to yet identify as panic. This was too new to survive you going so far away for so long. You’d leave him and not want him when you got back.

It didn’t get any better by the time Jon went to bed. You had passed out exhausted in your room. Not his. Jon sat at his desk just looking at his bed, at your side of the bed. Since that first morning you shared together, you had slept in his room, in his arms every single night. At this time the night before, Jon had you in his lap in his car. Your perfect high pitched yet shy pleads of his name in his ear as your hands grasped him desperately. Two hands gripping your hips so tightly as Jon struggled not to fuck up into you even rougher then he was bouncing you on his cock. Finally moving you to lay out in the back seat so he could fuck you properly. Hitch your leg up on his hip and pound into.

Yet here he sat in his own room, nothing close to that. It would be inappropriate to join you in your bed already. He had given you his office so you had privacy, and going into your room to carry you to his would be equally as inappropriate when you hadn’t even expressed want to. So Jon went to bed alone that night.

And again for three nights afterwards.

You were more tired then you’d been in months. Every single night your family had all been in touch as you suddenly had been dragged back into these affairs. Your father stating, “I did not bring you to Kings Landing for a wasted education.” Not at all acknowledging that you did not ask for the courses, nor did you want to choose them for yourself. If he had his way you would move back to the captiol and utilize your business education. Instead you met him halfway, each morning sending someone to come pick you up and meeting at one of the many buildings between Winterfell and Moat Cailin, you now sitting around the meeting table growing closer and closer to two options.

Falling asleep where you sat, or throwing something at Jofferys head. Your cousin only served to make all of this far worse, considering you had wanted nothing to do with this in the first place. You had done everything to move away from the politics of your family, but your uncle and father both had determined that all of you needed to be working as a unit on this campaign. Joffery across from you had spoken up rather loudly, “She has no right to come here and make stupid claims. Who does she think she is?”

Glaring your eyes up to him, your voice was as dry as the heaviness of it was laced with condescension. “We went over this the other day, but allow me to explain it again. She’s essentially utilizing a very old law she dug from hundreds and hundreds of years ago about lines of succession. Now, the law was never written to be more explicit about our present governance, as it was still a matter of monarchy then, but she seems to think if she can sway enough people to her side that perhaps it will grant her the authority of your fathers seat.”

Asking if that would work, Renly had the easy answer without the attitude you provided. “It could, if it were hundreds of years ago and we all still had armies made up of knights and horses.” A back and forth begun around you, as your eyes once more begged to close. Three nights in a row you had passed out at your desk, the night before that you had sat down to finally peel your boots off and the next thing you knew you were being awoken before dawn to a phone call from your fathers driver informing him he was there to pick you up. Most of the past nights you hadn’t even returned home until the three of them were asleep.

It was depressing, utterly depressing. Anyone whose last name wasn’t Baratheon you hadn’t even spoken too since the news broke. Your father stood at the head of the table, seemingly none to happy he had his repulsive nephew being tagged onto his side but you could only think that was such form of punishment for forcing you to take a leave from your job for this. Being informed that you and Renly both were to be in charge of Public Relations, you being the one to gather the information and Renly to enact plans to keep up the best appearances possible.

Though if you were being completely honest with yourself, you would have admitted that the moment the meeting finished you had been the first to leave without any goodbyes knowing your father was not yet done with you. You knew what was coming, him saying you were to return to Kings Landing but you were not ready for that.

You were not strong willed enough to defy your fathers orders so blatantly, so you were quick in avoiding being given them in the first place. You didn’t want to go back to that rats nest of a captiol, you hated living there and everyone in it. You wanted to stay in the North. Yet, something even more upsetting brewed deep in your heart at the thought of what would happen should you leave now.

Everything between Jon and yourself was still incredibly new, if you left now, it was early enough that he may simply move on without you there. It had been days since you saw or spoke to him already. Making your way down the steps of the building you resisted the urge to look at your phone. You’d see missed calls and email after email, messages between you and Robb as he was as flooded with work over this as you, as well as a few from Theon. You wondered if you would check and still had none from Jon, what did that mean going forward?

You didn’t know for sure whose voice it was the thought spoke in, but someone in your mind was simply telling you that Jon had gotten bored of you. Which of course he had, afterall twice you had boyfriends to drill into your head that you weren’t a “good lay” let alone even something worth looking at.

The longer away from him your family would keep you, how quick would it take for him to find someone new?

Jon was so vastly uncomfortable. She had arrived with a numerous amount of guard, all but demanded attention anytime she was in the room and none of them it seemed could say no to what she asked of them. The Targaryean had a way about her that to Jon, came off as rude and smug. Always feeling the need to interject whenever she disagreed on something as if her opinion had any bearing of any present matter but the Old Bear had said to be respectful.

More then once though since she had arrived at the Wall, had this Daenerys watched him. Most of the time from across the room as he had more then enough duties to keep him busy the entire day but she’d walk into a room and seek him out as he avoided her gaze. The first she had ever spoken to him, she had been left in the room by the advisor at her side being pulled away to another room for a moment when she begun walking.

Jon was keenly aware she had been nearing his desk, and more tense his shoulders grew trying to focus on the work in front of him. If she thought he hadn’t noticed she was incorrect. Even were Jon not someone who was always atune to his surroundings, if he couldn’t simply sense she was there, the abnormally immaculate manner of dress gave it away. He wasn’t quite sure where she thought she had come to, if she thought this level of ornate designs and style was at all fitting.

“I don’t believe we have met yet.”

Play nice, Jon told himself. Mormont had said to play nice. Turning to glance up at her, Jon only gruffed out a short “No.” A very awkward pause passed consisting of Jon returning to his work when she had asked if he planned on introducing himself. “Jon Snow.”

There was an authority in her tone, almost as if to say in silence he not refuse her. “And what it is you are currently doing, Jon Snow?” Eyes flickering to her and the computer, Jon somewhat turned so he at least partially faced her when she had come rather close.

Clearing his throat, Jons eyes turned back to the screen. Missing the hint of a smirk shining in her eyes. “It’s a trade agreement outline. The Nights Watch receives a certain amount of resources, and we have a trade deal with the free folk so to ensure enough goods are passed onto them that are harder to come by North of the Wall.” Asking him what sort of goods, “Medicine and medical devices are most common.”

It was an odd thing, that her eyes seemed to be on the screen but yet as Jon spoke they had flickered down to his desk for only a moment. Without his notice, Jons phone sat out had lit up as a new message came through. All of his message notifications were set to private as so wandering eyes could not just read what any sent him, but it still popped up enough that Jons lock screen was clear as day.

The photo was a rare one he had managed to capture only weeks ago. He had laid you out on his bed, your hair splayed across his sheets beautifully as Jon was partially hovering over your front, one hand pressed to the sheets to prop himself up. The other cupping your cheek as he had angled you up to is lips. He had it set to take many in a short span of time, and the perfect one he chose was beautiful to him.

Just the hint of Ghost laying beside you as his head had moved to rest on your stomach, your own hands gently grasping at Jons waist. It was not the kiss the photo showed, but in the mere second Jon had pulled away, still so close the faint silhouette trace of a strand of saliva connected between you both was just visible if one looked hard enough. You both were fully dressed but it was one of the most intimate photos he felt he had of you.

Agreeing to let him set his phone camera up just for this moment, and the one he chose was right as he pulled from your lips after getting too carried away. Your lips clearly a bit swollen from where he had bit at your bottom one with a roughness.

There was no mistakening the dynamic between him and you in the photo, but he had never thought of people seeing it. It wouldn’t matter who saw it. Until it did. Until a pair of purple eyes glanced down and in the seconds his phone remained lit, had recognized the other person in the photo.

It was that very phone Jon was currently toying with. Typing and deleting each and every message he tried to think of in a way that didn’t sound as if he was being far too possessive. He had wanted to hear from you, he wanted to see you, even just in a photo of whatever you were doing right now. He needed to have anything from you because he was worried but each time he tried to phrase it, it sounded as if he was trying to order you around.

A cawing from above dragged Jons eyes up, a narrowed squint in the sun at the sight of the large, exotic birds now making their home in the skies above his station. She had brought them over from Essos, apparently not aware that their feeding needs were a drain on their food resources with no offer to make up for it. But it all felt lackluster to Jon. You had slept in the apartment every night for days but you may as well have been gone from Jons life.

Robb had said you were being kept busy handling issues having arisen from the very woman walking about his station with her unnerving watchful eyes towards him. It was rare part of Jon wished he followed Robb and Theon into the familys work. They at least partially got to keep in touch with you, whereas whenever Jon was on duty he was isolated here with no way of reaching out to you if you were too busy.

Four days he hadn’t seen you and he missed you. He wanted to see your beautiful face again, hear your voice murmuring quietly as you both laid facing one another in his bed right before Jon would decide he wanted to take you one more time. Gods did he miss that. As if the interruption that morning had set him on edge. He wanted you in his arms, to kiss you until you would whine at how much he refused to let you breath. He needed to pry your legs open and drink from you for so long you’d forget anything not his touch. And right when he was finished, would Jon finally slide inside of you, knowing you’d be so sensitive by then.

Sex was never really important to Jon before you, but now it felt as if it was the easiest way Jon and you could open up to one another. You gave yourself to him as much as he did you, and all of your uncertainties or insecurities were gone when he had you like that. Jon missed the feeling so pure in his heart that he’d struggle to withhold his desire to tell you how much he loves you. He missed all of it, and the voice which joined him did not add well to his agitated state.

“Wonderful aren’t they?” Coming up to his side she braced her hands on the railing to the point Jon couldn’t help but notice how close she stood. Gazing up at the birds she continued as if Jon said anything. “In Essos they say these are the last living descendants of the dragons of Valyria.” One separated from the other two, more blueish in colour and strange looking like the others as if covered in scales. “That one is Rhaegal. I named him for my eldest brother. That one too, the small one. Viserion, I named after my other brother once he passed.” Jon only giving an apology for it as she only seemed to smile to the sky. “The last one with the black colouring, Drogon. Named after my late husband.”

Again, what Jon could say was very little. “I’m sorry. Losing your partner couldn’t have been easy.”

Inhaling with more of a knowing smirk. She only replied in a tone suggesting something Jon had yet to pick up on. “I appreciate your kindness. But it was some years ago now. Eventually we all move on from the ones we love, finding it somewhere else we don’t expect.” Her eyes which Jon did notice, looked down to his phone first and then him. “I was considering taking a walk up above on the Wall, I would be grateful to have someone to knows their way around.”

Jon tensed up, and if she sensed it, she clearly did not care. “It’s a straight path one end to the other, I’m sure your guard can manage.” Yet she persisted.

“I could speak to your Lord Commander about requesting an escort, but since you are already right here and clearly not doing anything.” She didn’t need to finish her sentence. Her eyes glanced to his phone once more before Jon relented. Were she to go to Mormont, he’d assign Jon anyways he already knew. There was no point in delaying it.

More then once when she would wish to step closer to the open gaps, as if he should’ve already known better, she would extend her hand out as if needing him to guide her up the small steps and back down. The smile each time Jon continued to not enjoy, but he had to only get through this day and it would be over.

Only it went on and on. Daenerys found every reason to force Jon to her side and considering his position, no one questioned it. He was second in command next to Mormont so it made sense that he would be showing her around. Only a willing guide may have looked far less on edge then Jon had.

By the time he had walked into the main building the next morning however, Mormont informed him that she had requested he be her personal guide the remainder of her visit as she travelled also to the Shadow Tower and Eastwatch by the Sea. “It will be a week long trip, and you will receive a fortnight off afterwards to make up for it.”

Yet Jon could sense there was something else coming, if by the way Alliser Thorne were looking at him with eyes amused in a maliciousness. Before Jons dreading heart even had the chance to ask, did the man answer for him. “You will be with her day and night until she returns.”

Quickly Jon felt his heart begin to beat a little more painfully, his voice a strained rasp as he attempted to hide such a feeling behind a sternness that no doubt was not bought. “Lord Commander, I’m not comfortable with-”

And yet, the Old Bear did what he did best. Shut things down to get to the point. “I don’t care if you’re comfortable. I care about playing nice with a politician long enough to get her out of our hair. I suggest you go home now to pack whatever you may need, she wants to begin her tour as soon as she arrives. You’ll be fine, she’s taken a liking to you.”

What protest could Jon give, this was his duty. He knew whatever he said would not be convincing but he had to try anyways. “That’s my problem, Lord Commander. I’m not the right person for this, I have a-” He couldn’t even get out the word girlfriend before Thorne had picked it up and thrown him right out the door metaphorically.

“Unless she’s your wife, it isn’t serious enough to get out of this.” Jon could feel his muscles twitch wanting to say something, anything to change their minds. But they dismissed him before he could come up with it.

Gathering his jacket he had just sat at his desk, he looked up to Sam having just arrived. Swallowing down a heaviness in his throat that he could not allow to come out here of all places. “What’s wrong with you?”

Wide eyes forcing into a furrowed brow to pack his stuff that he may need from here. “Mormont has me bringing Daenerys around the Wall for the week to show her around.” Sam didn’t quite pick it up at first why it would make Jon this on edge, even asking as such what the problem was when Jons head shot up looking with a glare, and an exasperation in his voice. “What’s the problem? I can’t get this woman to leave me alone since she’s been here, she wants me at her side all the time and on top of that beacuse she’s even here, I haven’t seen or heard from my own girlfriend in days because it’s kept her so busy. And now I have to spend an entire week with her away from my girl, because she couldn’t just pick any other man in this building.”

Almost taken back, Sam let Jons anger steam until he stood up ready to leave, a defeated look coming more back into his wider eyes now as his breathing returned to normal. Your name passed from his lips, only straining Jons heart more. “You didn’t ask for this, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Morose was the only thing Sam would be able to ascribe to Jons tone. “She’ll understand, just not in the way I want her to.” Before any other words could be shared, Jon adjusted the hold on his jacket before passing Sam with a tap on the arm. “I’ll be back in a few hours. I need to grab Longclaw and go pack.”

Not that Jon had known it, but it wasn’t much later when the Targaryean in question had arrived. Sam had an advantage, he was always looked over as the fat one and thus some people in power tended to underestimate him. In the dining hall, Sam had been leaving to drop something off to Pyp when he heard Jons name. Looking up subtly, he saw the Targaryean speaking to her assistant. Their appearances vastly different, her silver hair and pale skin with dark clothes contrasted to the other womans appearance entirely. “And you’re sure?”

The other woman nodded. “I am. He has reported that they live in the same home on the Stark property.”

The silver haired Targaryean nodded with a frustrated grimace. “So we won’t be getting anyone in there anytime soon, I imagine. That should be fine for right now. What was it Daario said, that I have a temping way with men?” Both woman laughed almost as if simply sharing gossip. “You watch, my friend. A week with me and maybe I will find out if wolves are as hot blooded as they say.” The other woman asked about you, making Sam feel that much more alert and urgent. “Grey Worm assured me they will be able to keep her busy. That’s one less part of the country to win over if I can take the Starks right out of her hands. You know how these people work, if I can get even one public kiss then that will sway the masses easily.”

The other woman seemed to begun to look not as if she agreed. “I presumed this was about your interest in him alone?”

“I am far more interested in keeping him away from her for the time being then I am anything else. Any other pleasures which may come as a result of the week with him are simply a bonus.” Not even the Targaryeans assistant looked comfortable, but no doubt held back that thought whatsoever.

By then, if they thought Sam was listening they would’ve said something, but they didn’t. He walked right by as the Targaryean gave him no mind. Getting to his desk almost in a rush, Sam looked through his phone only to find that he had no one in his contacts which were of use. Jon wouldn’t pick up before coming back here he knew, but he needed someone to know. Writing a note, Sam looked to Jons desk next to him.

Ruffling through his drawers, Sam could have almost laughed at what he found were he not in a bit of a rush. All well put together, save for his top drawer, with a variety of printed out photos all placed specifically to be seen. Many of he and his siblings and father at various points in their lives all together, one Sam could only guess was from the day Jon first got Ghost, newer ones clearly out far north with the free folk, but two sat right on the top. Ones which Jon would’ve seen each time should he open the drawer.

Both were photos of you and him. The first was before anything happened between you. Sam remembered the story when Jon told it to him one day. Your nameday was coming up and all of your family was going to be in Kings Landing for an event and they had forgotten that you had tried to make plans to have a dinner together with them to celebrate for once. You told Jon about it, he noted almost in passing, and so Jon had gone out of his way.

Calling your work as you hadn’t yet begun working from home, to tell them he needed them to give you at least 4 days off. Managing to talk your superiors way into delegating it a paid leave so it didn’t cut into your actual vacation or sick days. He had brought you out to part of the wolfswood which had cliffs and trails and lakes and rivers for days on end where you’d encounter no one else. A small camping trip just you, Jon, and Ghost. Jon had clearly set his camera up to take the photo automatically. The evening sky against a lake was in the background as you both sat in front of a fire. Ghost lay across your legs, but you sat right back against Jons chest. Your arms hidden by the large sleeves of your sweater, but Jons were wrapped around your front. Both of you in the middle of laughing. And that was before you got together.

The other Sam recognized, it was much like Jons lock screen but from a different time in the photos automatically taken. This one showed Jon hovering over you much more intimately, one hand in your hair behind your head, the other wrapped around your back pulling you up into him. Your hands grasping at his shoulders, but Jon had you firmly trapped against him in what was clearly a passionate kiss. Nothing about it was inappropriate, but to Jon, clearly it felt a photo that was very intimate. He had delegated that drawer to only very important things and rarely did Sam see Jon put things in it, but that was why.

His brothers and sisters, his father, his friends, and you. The most important things and Sam suddenly looked back at where he had known the Targaryean was even if he couldn’t see her. Clearly she knew you in some way, and wanted to take Jon from you. Sam had no doubt Jon would never do anything, but it sounded as if she would try to make something happen between them and he did not know what lengths she may go to to achieve that. So far, she seemed entirely untrustworthy. So as Sam left the note just sticking out enough from that drawer Jons keen eyes would notice it, did Sam too turn his computer on.

He had a lot to write out to Gilly and no patience to type it all on a phone. But if this Targaryean wanted eyes on her and Jon, she too seemed to imply she had eyes watching you. Which means he would need to have someone far less known and far more inconspicuous to help.

Sam could only wonder though, how did you two know each other to the degree she seemed to be planning to seduce your boyfriend into her bed as if to get back at you for something.

It was the worst possible timing. Jon barley managing to pack the basics for a week, distracted the whole time since no one was home when he got back. Writing out a message for Robb, he had put it on the kitchen counter with his bag now sitting on top of the table, with a plan to call you pretty much until he got back to Castle Black to tell you. He didn’t know how he missed it, but it almost startled his heart from his chest when he heard it behind him.

“What’s this?”

Turning around with wide eyes, Jon felt horrible. Not now, he thought. Don’t make him rush out of the door right now for this. Your hands were perched against the empty door frame looking between he and the bag with eyes he could only describe as close to breaking. You looked so exhausted and instantly Jon realized why, you had been sleeping at your desk, only passing out in the middle of working when you couldn’t keep your eyes open. But you either had a small bit today to come home, or Jon hadn’t even realized you were still here when he left, and you just had to be wearing that shirt. His Nights Watch shirt that you looked so beautiful in.

But clearing his throat, Jon felt such guilt in doing this now. “Mormont assigned me a job that will take me away for a week.” Asking if it was north, he felt so much worse. “No, it uh..Daenerys Targaryean has been visiting the Wall..” You didn’t have any change in reaction and Jon knew that was a withholding of dread in your heart. “And she requested me specifically to...accompany her in her tour of the different stations for the week.”

All you said, was a quiet little, “Oh.”

Jon truly hated this, he hadn’t seen you in days but he had to leave now, he was late as it was. “Darling-”

Your interruption was heartbreaking, “No, no. Your duty is important, Jon. I shouldn’t keep you.” Jon knew you wanted him to think you meant keep him waiting, but he had a horrible feeling you really meant something else. Calling your name gently Jon just managed to grasp at your waist to turn you to him.

Looking down at you, he grappled with what time he had. Not enough. “He sprung it on me only this morning. Once I’m back I’ll have a fortnight off though. To make it up to you.”

He knew what this was, and why you said it this way but he was desperate for you to not do this. “There isn’t anything you’d need to make up for with me. I’d never keep you from doing what you want.” Oh he really felt ill, whatever you were thinking was going to happen, he more firmly asked you if you thought he’d do anything like that but your answer was so horrible he felt his heart cracking into pieces. “The last thing I want is for you to feel chained to me.” Pulling away from him, Jon tried and failed to get you to come back close. “Dany is rich and beautiful, you’ll have fun spending time with her. Lost of men always did. I’ve kept enough of your time.”

Jon tried grabbing you and calling your name. Following your retreating figure you closed the door before he could get to you. Mouth slightly agape, Jon felt something truly sickening. Twisting his stomach and rising up to burn away at his heart and lungs. He was going away for a week on a miserable work job, but something about your reaction looked like you knew something he didn’t.

Muttering your name, Jon was alright if you didn’t respond. He just wanted you to hear him. “I love you. I know it’s too soon but..I just need you to know that.” If Jon listened any more closely, he felt a sting behind his eyes at the realization that you hadn’t moved from the door. You likely had your back against it, having slid down to the floor and all Jon could hear was the possibility of you hiding your head in your arms as if trying to smother the want to cry.

Forced to walk out to his car without even having you in his arms for even a moment, Jon sat in the front seat for a moment. Jaw clenched and the sting in his eyes mixing with anger. Every gods forsaken boyfriend you’ve ever had treated you so horribly that just the idea of Jon spending a week with someone like Daenerys Targaryean had you convinced you’d lose him. And worse you didn’t even act like you’d blame him for it.

He was glad no one was around to see the way he threw something harsh into part of the inside of his car in anger. Realizing why this felt so sickening in his heart. You weren’t treating this like something may happen on his work trip away. You were treating this, as if once Jon comes home, he’d be done with you without question.

You were treating this like it was already a breakup.

The constant buzzing around the building was tedious at the best of times. It had been years and years since you worked anywhere near here but you had been thrown right back into it as if you hadn’t purposely left this job. But you were part of the family, and thus you were given no choice. Though in a truth, you knew there were reasons you were more on edge here then usual. You simply had not gone home in many nights. The small couch in what was designated your office again, had housed you as each late night gave you no incentive to wish to go home.

For most of the week you had gone home, Robb had both been a blessing and a companion in misery. He suddenly had his job and his fathers all on his plate as Ned was working directly with Robert. For the first while, Robb had taken up taking you to and from work. Shutting you down when you insisted he not go out of his way, but you knew Robb could see the exhaustion and stress in your eyes clear as day.

At first it was comforting, having someone you’ve known for so much of your life there for you but eventually you stopped wanting it. The closer your father came to telling you he was going to bring you back to Kings Landing the more you started to realize you didn’t know how to say no. So you told Robb you were needed at earlier hours then he’d wake up, and that your father would have a driver bring you home so Robb didn’t have to go out of his way anymore.

And then you stopped going home, and stopped answering Robbs calls and messages. You were going to have to go back alone to Kings Landing soon anyways, you may as well get used to this loneliness now then later. But that wasn’t the only thing keeping you from being home, and you knew Robb had picked up on it too.

Whispers of Daenerys Targaryeans arrival had gotten around and soon followed photos online of interest. She was exactly as you remembered. Her luscious silver hair and immaculate wardrobe, the brightness of her Valyrian beauty something all wanted to catch a glimpse of, but it was never photos of her alone. You recognized what appeared to be a normal entourage of people around her but too was the early talk around her, a so far publically unidentified man close to her side.

The difficulty came though in that you had known you saw pictures like this before. Photos sent to you from a friend whom had seen Ramsay around with a girl named Myranda just like this only to be told by him it was nothing. Yet when you had begun to sleep with him, he revealed the truth that he was seeing her too and you were going to have to either live with it, or step things up to convince him to stay with you alone. You had not been worthy of giving any attention individually, you had not the worth and he was sure to teach you that.

Telling you one night, “Most men won’t stay with you. They’ll find pretty girls just like Myranda and fuck them until they realize the first one they dated just isn’t cutting it anymore.” He had unsettlingly traced his thumb down your cheek, jaw and down your neck with pale blue eyes scouring you with a falsehood you didn’t know how to tell if it was real or not. “I’d recommend listening to what I tell you to do from now on. Afterall, love, you just aren’t good enough to keep a man tied down to you alone. If you didn’t have me, the next man you date would just toss you away one day for a prettier and better version of you.”

You didn’t understand. Jon had told you that Ramsay and even Karl had been using you for sex, and you believed that then and now. All they wanted to do was have sex and never do anything else. Jon and you did plenty of things, but then you sat there, hands hovering over the keyboard unmoving. Jon was also very physical with you, quite so. You had asked him to be sure if all he wanted to do was have sex, and he said he wanted all of it.

Did all of it just mean sexually? Did you make yourself a fool thinking the romance would stay? Were you not giving yourself over physically enough to keep him interested?

The most recent photo was from the night before. Spotted at a small restaurant in the Gift, clearly much of the area had been closed off for her and thus photo were taken out of interest. A beautiful dress on her that you couldn’t afford in many lifetimes with hair which must have taken hours. Of course she looked better then you ever would, you sat at your desk with messy hair thrown back into a braid and dark circles under your eyes.

Naturally some did not question the circumstances, he was her guide here as his duty of course he would be polite and respectable about her wishes, but you looked at the photo again and again. The way she looked quite naturally close and cozy attached to his arm. There was not a world in which you would understand why Jon would have anything but a good time. She was so much more glamorous, rich, and powerful at his side.

You normally worked a calmer job from home, and had far too much baggage for him then he deserved. What made it worse, was a message which appeared on screen from Gendry. That very photo with the message only containing a rather angry ask of what was he looking at, only with a few more expletives thrown in for colour. Good, you thought sarcastically. Other people were about to start seeing it.

Hardly any outside of the Starks or Jons circles even knew about he and you yet. The first woman of meaning they’d see by his side was her. You looked horrid in comparison. People would look down on Jon for going from her to you.

Another message from Gendry, then one from Arya. By the time you got the same photo and kind of message from Loras of all people did you turn your computer off. Elbows propped on the table and hanging your head into your hands with a deep sigh. Any other women would be angry, mad, offended, but you should’ve simply seen this coming. You gave Jon what he wanted, and expected too much in return. That wasn’t his fault, that was simply yours.

As you ascended the steps to the main door, you could only contemplate how you even got here. It felt like a blur, as if only moments ago did you turn the computer at your desk off. But walking in, it had yet to get busy. An open seat right by the corner of the bar, you sat down. Barley registering what you had ordered, only that it was as bitter going down as you needed. You didn’t even bother pulling your phone out to entertain yourself.

What were you going to do? Avoid worried messages from Robb telling you to either come home already or call him? Wait to see what other photos would arise? Jon looked cordial in them but how long until he looked like he was having fun, how long until he was giving Dany the looks you wished for so long he would give you? How long until he sent you a message telling you that this was not going to work anymore?

Men always boasted that she was good in bed, and she was always good at tempting men she wanted into her bed in return. At least someone would give him a pleasurable time other then him always having to take the reins with you. You knew nothing compared to what she did, why would he want to stay with that after she could show him how much better being with her felt?

You’d ask worried how long until that happened, but then you felt that dark wave of fear that maybe it already did. Within an instant, you downed the ale before ordering another. It was straight forward with Karl and Ramsay. They told you what to do, what they wanted or expected and would just take it when you didn’t get the message. You never knew what Jon wanted, and clearly guessing had not worked out.

Ramsay was upfront for most of your relationship that he would fuck other women. If that’s what Jon wanted to do, you wished he would be honest and tell you. You’d understand. He was a man, he had needs and you weren’t talented or good or pretty enough to fulfill them. This is why you never wanted Jon to know about how you felt. You knew you weren’t good enough, that you would ruin the friendship you both already had.

How much had you drunk at that point? You need not stand up yet and find out.

Jon had yet to have a single moment to himself from the very instant he opened his eyes. She needed this or that, ordered one thing or another from him or simply would change her mind and have him escort her somewhere. She was, for all intents and purposes, his boss currently. Or at least, she was certainly ordering him around like she was. He apparently had no choice here as much as he couldn’t refuse an order from Lord Commander Mormont if she had anything to say about him telling her no.

She had wanted to go to a specific restaurant, and as utterly uncomfortable as Jon felt, when she asked him to sit and join he had refused initially. Only to have a more narrow eyed look with a smile that felt judging with a tone filled with less room for interpretation. “It is bad manners to refuse a ladies offer.” The stare off lasted around five long and painful seconds before he begrudgingly sat down. Nearly refusing any offer of food for drink at her expense, stating he was fine while picking at whatever too upscale appetizer she ordered for him.

The only easier moments were with the waitress, a young girl, likely around Aryas age in over her head at the degree of upscale done for the Targaryean. She would take her orders with a nervousness but seemed at least to relax at Jons ease with her. Ensuring as long as she came around often enough to refill his water, she had nothing to worry about with him. Daenerys had her team pay by cheque.

Jon had caught the young waitress his way out, giving her a gold coin specifically for her good job. It was the only real smile anyone had given him in days as she thanked him.

Now though? Jon could hear voices muffled outside his door even through the noise and walls with his keen hearing. Soon enough his only chance at quiet would be interrupted, but Jon was begging for it to wait until he could finish showering. Or, at least finish his illusion of showering. Towel long since around his waist as he let the hot water keep running to steam the bulk of the room, Jon leaned against the counter picking up his phone.

If he had one fundamental flaw, it was he had no idea how to handle issues like this in most forms not in person. Not even over the phone was ideal, but you didn’t answer his call. Not that he blamed you. Photos begun going around online and it was painting Jon out to look like he of all people was treading into the path of being unfaithful. But Jon didn’t know how to text you about it either, he knew he didn’t come off well in text.

A few more days, thats all he told himself. He would be back with you in a few more days and he would fix everything then. A knock at the main door had him rising his head up, but Jon made no move to go answer it. It was late, he wanted time to himself, she would survive without his company. He didn’t even understand why she wanted to spend time with him, he barley spoke to her if she didn’t require an answer.

Swiping through his photo gallery, one then the next, then the next. You hated having your photo taken but always managed to be talked into letting him at any point. Jon could admit to himself with a ghost of a smile painting across his face that he took his best photos when he’d set his camera up to take them automatically as he kissed you. The one he had looked at in the moment, he had sat his phone against something as if moving it out of the way before coming up and wrapping his arms around your front, his own lips finding your neck as you leaned into his touch.

So many with you Jon could look at until he passed out, he missed you terribly, and he hated that he had to leave while you were still clearly so upset. Every night when he fell asleep in a bed not his, he too felt angry that you weren’t curled up in his chest. Jon was practically spoiled with how often you slept in his bed, hell Jon felt alone without the inevitable feeling of Ghost hopping up onto the end of the bed and curling up around both of your feet.

Only finding it in him just then to contemplate turning the water off and attempting to call you one more time before passing out, did he get an email. From Gilly of all people. Opening one, the subject line left empty did she send him photos of articles.

Another email, more photos of articles and names he somewhat recognized. Another email with more personal photos as if scanned from a book online. But it was the last one that had Jon swiftly turning the water off with eyes narrowed. Face tensed as he looked at the final article photos she sent him.

If any noticed, they said nothing. The falsehood in the smile Daenerys was giving him and the stiff attempt at remaining neutral in Jon the next morning. “We had wondered what happened to you last night. You didn’t answer your door.”

Hardly looking as Jon stood somewhat in front of them all fiddling with his own credentials, they had finally arrived last night in time for her tour of the Shadow Tower and he wanted to get her in there and distracted as quickly as possible. Mumbling out, “I fell asleep after I had a shower. Must not have heard you.”

Not making any eye contact, Jon gestured with a nod for them all to simply follow him. By the time they arrived, with merely one look at him did Jon know that his demeanour was even more off put then it normally was. Most were trying to be polite, but with the wave over for him to come up to speak to him, Jon simply directed them to follow Dareon as he swiftly made his way up the stairs. That time he felt her eyes watching him, but he didn’t care as he shut the door behind him.

Rummaging through the cabinet behind his desk before turning did Qhorin Halfhand let out a far more natural tone then he greeted the party with. “One bloody foreign politician shows up and suddenly we’re expected to bend over backwards to kiss her ass.” Letting the glasses thud against his desk, he didn’t even need to ask Jon to sit while he begun pouring the amber liquid Jon hoped was strong. “Whose idea was this anyways?”

Grabbing his with a thankful nod, Jon muttered with a frustration. “Mormont. His son is her advisor, Jorah. I think he’s trying to use it as a way to make amends but he’s just thrown me into the fire this time.” A laugh came out that Jon understood but didn’t quite appreciate as he just took another far larger sip, holding back the wince as it burned down his throat.

“She looks like she fancies you.” Jon only grunted from within his chest, his eyes dark and expression twisting into something akin to a frown. “Too bad for her, she’s in the North. Most men I know born and raised up here aren’t quite into whatever they have going on.” If Jon had the capacity to laugh he would’ve. That certainly was true. Those of the North were never normally looked at as the attractive culture of the country and if any were as far from what they were like or looked like it was the Targaryean. By the time the Halfhand found his word again, Jon knew he had to tackle this now while he had someone alone who could help. “You’re trapped with her for a week? Doesn’t Mormont know you have a girl?”

“I don’t know, but she does.” Looking at him in question, he leaned forward with his arms on the desk in curiosity as Jon elaborated with your name on his lips. “She was going to school in Kings Landing, and went over to Essos for a few months for some special program. Apparently they paired students up with people to live with over there that should match in lifestyle.” The Halfhand putting together the indications that you had been moved in with Daenerys Targaryean.

Jon recalled when he got back, Sam leaving a note that said to stay distant from her until certain information was found. Which he had no idea what that had meant until then night prior. How Gilly found all of this, he had no idea as he continued. “Her brother Viserys lived there too.” Once again your name coming out, albeit with far more of a strain the man before him could sense was rather protective. “He took an interest in her, wouldn’t leave her alone. Was at her side day and night always trying to get close as possible to the point some people thought they were together.”

Recalling the report filed with both local officials and schooling records, he suspected that Gilly may or may not have gotten access to things she normally shouldn’t have, but Jon told himself to remember to thank her for it. For finding something you had never told him about, but now more then ever seemed to be needed. According to your written and spoken statements, Viserys had convinced you on a night you felt homesick out to a club. You hadn’t drunk much but you do remember that one of which he had ordered from the bar for you and brought your way, all without you seeing.

Medical reports attached showed traces of Shade of the Evening in your system. You had said you did not take anything like that, but refused to point the finger at Viserys because if you were wrong you thought it would be a horrible accusation. The official you spoke to had pointed out what they already had on record of what he had done as to try and convince you of a truth you still refused to accept. Feeling not right, you had found yourself dragged to a more secluded hallway where Viserys has tried to-

Jon had cut himself off on that one as the Halfhand filled in those details. Saying your name, “What’s all this now then have to do with her? Miss Silver Hair out there not like that a girl reported her brother for being a raper?” Jon heavily swallowed down any thoughts about that, it didn’t go that far he knew, but dare he tread into what else he had learned of your time with men since.

Rasping out after taking a final sip, before handing the glass over to the Halfhand waving for him to get it refilled for his own sake. “He never got charged for anything. He and his sister were rich and they got him dropped of charges.” Directing back to you, “When she was put on a ship back home, apparently someone had let it out that Daenerys helped to hide what he did, and they kicked her out school for it. And apparently she blames her for it still.”

“So now she’s trying to steal you to get back at her.” Nodding begrudgingly, Jon hated that in your eyes, that plan was working. He felt ill thinking what you could be worrying he had done already, or what he would have to do to prove he never would betray you like that. “Well, she’s here for two days then you have barley any more alone with her to get back to Castle Black. Suppose in her mind that’s plenty of time to charm you. What did your girl have to say about all this?”

The dark frown growing on Jon was immense. “She’s been busy with her Uncle’s campaign against Daenerys, and even beyond that I think she’s afraid to pick up my calls.” Asking why, Jon answered with a heavy weight in his throat. “In case she does, and I’m only calling to break up with her.” Almost in an instant Jon nearly downed the second refill in one large go. “She was dating this abusive-” He cut himself off before he let that anger get him too carried away. “And a little before him she had been dating Karl Tanner.”

The looks shared between men spoke volumes. “Tough girl you’ve got. Making her way out of that mans life and then another? That isn’t easy.” It was easier to see where Jons struggle was coming from, and why from here he felt trapped from being able to do anything. “Sounds like you need someone to go talk her into her senses. Who from up here does she know?”

One plan set, and the next came in the form of Jons only last question. “What do I do in the meantime?

“Your job. Nothing more, nothing less. Get her out of our gods forsaken hair, and yours for that matter. As long as you don’t trip and fall naked into her bed, I don’t see what you’ve got to worry about.” A more firm voice coming out, catching his eyes. “Snow. Stop worrying. We’re brothers, all of us. You’ve had our backs more times then I can count, we can have yours this once.”

Though, being brothers meant they did not go without getting on each others nerves. “One more question, Snow.” Turning with his hand still braced on the doorknob, Jon could already sense the irritation based on the jesting brightness in the Halfhands face. “How long’s it been since you and your girl have fucked? Haven’t seen you this wound up since your first year here.”

Jon almost didn’t answer, with a more flat glare though he grumbled out, “Too long.” Which was the real answer of almost a fortnight. Considering though, a fortnight passed into Jons relationship with you he had fucked you nearing twice a day, this was starting to feel like a true torture. A torture made worse everytime he noticed her staring at him, now realizing that he was just a pawn to get back at you.

He didn’t want her to want him in the first place, but now he was angry. Using him to break your heart all for something her own brother tried to do to you in the first place. He’d only ever met one, but already he hated that family to his core.

You didn’t pick up when Jon tried calling you then already, or that night, but he had to trust the Halfhand to help with you. He just didn’t realize by the time the one sent to talk to you was going to find you at a bar in that state. Each night he reminded himself how long. But before he had reached his hotel bed the night before beginning the days long journey back to Castle Black, did he get a call from Robb, pretty unbelievably angry with him.

Leading up to that call though, one would have to go all the way back to the bar you sat in hours before. The low rumbling voice coming to your side held a laugh that nearly caught you off guard, as did his size. “How’s someone your size stay conscious with that much in you?” Nudging at your arm as he took a seat did you meaninglessly try to swat at him back.

Little thought came out of your mouth as you didn’t even bother to greet him. “What are you doing here, Tormund?”

Ordering something for himself, he shrugged which hardly passed your notice. Eyes presently trained on the wood of the bar. “Thought I’d come out. Have a drink with a beautiful woman.”

Eyes rolling somewhat to the side did you mumble, “I repeat. What are you doing here then?” That time the nudge was much more noticeable then before. Only saying he was here to check on you, your eyes narrowing as you whipped your head to the side to look at him suspiciously, not quite aware it was coming off more adorable then intimidating. “I left work not telling anyone where I was going. How did you know to find me here?”

The answer gave your insides a little bit of a sobering jolt in sorrow. “Jon mentioned he and you used to come here all the time. Seemed an easy guess.” That time you on a true spree of questions asked why he was looking for you and the answer was just as unpleasantly whirling in your stomach. “Got a call from that half handed cunt at the Shadow Tower, said Snow’s pretty on edge that you haven’t spoken to him in over a week.”

Your hands twitched as if to go grab your phone, forcing it to remain in your bag. For now. “I don’t know what to say to him.” Asking almost incredulously that meant you chose to just ignore him, you felt a tinge of annoyance creeping through the anxiety. “We can talk about if he wants me to stay or not when he comes back, I don’t want to have that conversation over the phone.”

Grumbling out, were you not drunk you may have picked up the amusement instead of judgment you interpreted it as. “You think he wants to get rid of you?”

“It isn’t a matter of getting rid of me or not. If he’s bored of me, that isn’t his fault.”

Tormund was quiet for more then a good few seconds. Still difficult to pick up his tone, but you also didn’t even notice his freedom to reach inside your bag and grab your phone as he spoke. “As long as I’ve known him, he’s been stupid in love with you. Watched you date shit bag after shit bag and refusing to make a damned move whenever I told him to. Something about not wanting to take advantage of you when you were vulnerable.” Turning a little, you at least could see the partial sight of his wild orange hair in the low bar light. “Now I knew Karl Tanner, means I know the kind of shit he’d have put you through. Your crow doesn’t even know the half of it does he?”

Slowly you shook your head as a heat begun forming behind your face in a rather unwelcome way.

“If you told him the truth about that, he’d run day and night to come back right now-” Cutting him off you told him that wasn’t the only thing you weren’t honest about. “Alright, fess up.” Telling him a rather drunk version of the events, Tormund whistled out by the end of it. “You have a great habit of trying to surround yourself with the worst shits I’ve ever known.”

Continuing on, you hardly noticed his jest. “As soon as he told me who he was going to be with, I just knew what would happen. I knew Dany. She’s beautiful, rich, charming every single man I met in Pentos adored her. There wasn’t anyone who she couldn’t get into her bed and I always knew why. She was everything men dream of having all in one woman. She’d be perfect for him. She looks perfect at his side. And I know she’d figure out Jon was with me, and she knows she’s better for him then I ever could be. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s in her bed right now. Doesn’t take most men this long.”

Unbeknownst to you it was rather ill feeling to other people at how little blame you placed on Jon in this imagined scenario. You’d refute every ounce of guilt he could be accused of beacuse of men like Ramsay and Karl. In your eyes, you were unattractive and broken, Dany was beautiful and perfect. Jon probably took one look at her and gave her those wide and bright eyes you for so long wished could be directed towards you just once.

“Then why is all he can talk about when you’re not there, you?” Brows furrowing you shrugged while turning more away, curling a bit in on yourself. “Ever since you two got together, all he can focus on is you. If he’s not with you, he’s talking about you. If he’s not talking about you, he’s obsessing over you. And if he’s not doing any of that, then he’s probably busy getting off thinking about you. Hates talking about you with other men in any way. If this girl is what he wants, then why in seven hells is he so obsessed with you every second of the day?”

If you were entirely truthful, you had always thought Jon was exaggerating when he said he told his friends a lot about you. You assumed when he wasn’t with you, you were barley in his head. That’s what Ramsay and Karl were like, it was what you were used to. “Before he left, through the door he told me he loved me.” Tormund gave you the silent space to think. “He’s never said that before. We’ve never said it before. But he told me before he left and I didn’t say it back. I hadn’t seen him in days, I didn’t understand why he’d tell me when he was leaving for even more.”

More quiet then usual he asked, “A man ever tell you that before?” Shaking your head no, you refused to acknowledge the sting behind your eyes. “You are a mess if I’ve ever seen one before.”

Muttering with a bit more amusement peeking through, “You know all the proper words to flatter a girl, don’t you?” That time you nudged his side back as much as he did you. The thoughts simmering in your head for a little while until they came out calm. “I don’t know how to do this. Normal relationships, let alone when the one I’m with is my best friend. I’ve never been in one that wasn’t so horrible, I don’t know how I’m supposed to act with Jon if he doesn’t tell me.”

“And he’s not going to know how to talk that out with you, if you keep your damned mouth shut about every problem in your pretty little head. He comes back in what? In a day or two? Just wait until he comes back before trying to push him away all over again. Let him choose to do that this time, you’ve had your fun.” He was being hyperbolic at the words of fun, but you understood his position. “Now,” Slamming your phone onto the table between you both, “Who the fuck can you call at this hour to pick you up?”

By the time you were outside, the cool night air was somewhat comforting in your lungs. Leaning against the much larger Tormund for support you felt the need to fall asleep coming. Eyes jolting open each time they were tempted too. At the sight of headlights, you felt a relief as if he wouldn’t have come. You had figured by now your attitude would’ve driven Robb from wanting to put up with you, but it wasn’t the case.

The concerned and gentle way he handled you was more comforting then you had thought it would be, that at least he hadn’t written you off entirely just yet.

Whatever it was that was said between Tormund and Robb you didn’t really know, almost falling asleep Robb had just picked you up by then. “Last thing you need on top of everything is a concussion” All you remembered was by the time Robb sat you carefully in the passenger seat did you drift off to sleep.

Robb carried you into the house, gently resting you down on the couch on your side. Grabbing a fur to cover you wish as Ghost came scurrying out of Jons room over to your side. “Come on now, give her space.” Whining, the direwolf rested his head on the couch looking at you as Greywind came up to nudge Ghost as if comforting him.

Debating what he wanted to do, stay here and make sure you didn’t throw up in your sleep or finally say a word or two to more then one persons. Telling Ghost and Greywind to come get him if anything happened, Robb went outside. First thing was first, then Robb called his brother and it likely was the first time in along time he chewed him out for something with an actual anger.

On the other side, Jon stood almost taken back in the middle of his hotel room that Robb had called him in the near middle of the night to yell at him without even so much as a greeting. “Sometimes I have no idea what runs through your head.” Trying to ask what he was even talking about, Robb only cut him off not even before reaching the end of the sentence bringing up your name. “Everything she’s been through the last few months, no the last year and you start pulling this sort of thing? What is wrong with you?”

Face twisting into his own taken back offence, Jons tone dropped beginning to match in the frustration. “Do you want to be more specific?”

But it was you again, of course if was you. Jon felt haunted by your lack of presence. “After Tanner, after Ramsay we all waited to see if you’d actually do anything finally. You made a move and we were all proud until you pulled all of this. She’s never even been in a relationship with someone that wasn’t a piece of shit and the second things got even the slightest bit difficult, you took off for a whole week.”

Blood rising in intensity in his veins Jon felt his muscles tensing with nothing to let it out on showing in the sharp edge to his shortness. “I didn’t ask for this, Robb. I was assigned to it, I had no choice-”

Not having a second of it, Robb was far firmer then Jon was growing angry. “You did. If you said no, did you really think Mormont of all people would what? Discharge you? Demote you? Of all people? No, things with her got tough, you didn’t know what to do to fix it, so you ran. And worse, you ran off to the side of the very woman making her life hell in the first place. How do you think seeing photos of her with you day in and out is making her feel?” Almost in a stunned sense for a moment, it gave Robb room to continue. “I had to pick her up from a bar tonight, did you know that? She was so drunk she couldn’t even stand on her own, she passed out the moment I got her into the car.”

On Jons end, suddenly an ill, blackening poison grew from within his stomach at the thought. He had assumed you wouldn’t have spiralled this hard, and Robb was clearly irate at the fact as he had to watch the rest of it. “Is she-”

“She’s asleep right now. I called father, told him he needs to put his foot down to Robert about dragging her back into all of this, because either shes drowning in work she hates or drowning in her thoughts all alone. There’s no excuse this time. When you come home you fix this, you’re not the only one who cares this much about her.” It was Robbs next words though that hit Jon somewhere deep in a much more slashing strike. “But I’m not the one who ran away from my struggling, traumatized girlfriend the second things got difficult. I’m picking up the pieces you’re causing. Daenerys Targaryean isn’t your girlfriend and she isn’t your boss. Set some fucking boundaries, Snow.”

Hardly a few words Jon got in before Robb hung up. It had been a long time since the two brothers ever argued like that, and he didn’t quite know how to feel right away. Yet the more he thought about it, the more Jon realized he was right. Jon hadn’t tried to fix things. He’s argued against the Lord Commanders orders more then that before on less, he should’ve learned letting either of you walk out the door without talking a problem out only made it worse. And knowing what he knew now, Jon knew he did wrong by not being far more firm towards Daenerys about him not being interested.

Even if she was doing this to get back at you, Jon should’ve known better then to let it even vaguely fall into place. The first time you struggled more then usual in the month and a half since he had started to be with you, and he took off for a week without speaking to you on it for more then a few minutes.

Some good example he was setting for this relationship, Jon knew.

No doubt she had not been expecting whom was at the door at this hour, but perhaps she should have read the room before giving this reaction. The middle of the night, Daenerys in her sleeping clothes and yet he was fully dressed as if the sun was out but she somehow misread this in a way that only made him angry. “What a pleasant surprise, you coming by so late to see me. Please, come in, I insist.”

Trying to pull the door more open for him, Jon let a gloved hand reach out and grasp a higher edge of the door stopping her in her tracks with eyes growing more frustrated within them. “I’m not here for a chat.” If Jon were a worse man, he might have snapped at her for the audacity to give him almost a leering look up and down. Starting to form something or another with a much more intentional tone of voice, Jon hissed out. “I don’t know what gave you the idea I’m interested in you, but I’m done.”

Head jolting back, the act dropped within an instant. “What do you mean done?”

Pulling something in front of him previous tucked away, a freshly printed out receipt and details for a driver and arrival time. Asking what this was, Jon pulled his hand back from the door finally. “A driver bought and paid for to take you to wherever you need to go from here, but I’m finished. Whatever you thought this was, you’re wrong. I’ve been taking you around beacuse I was told to, because it was my duty, but nowhere does it say I’m to stand here and let you try and push my girlfriend out of my life beacuse of something that happened years ago.”

Eyes wide and if he was not mistaken, just a tint of an unsettling rage hid too beyond her controlled words. “I don’t know what it is you’re accusing me of-”

“We both know exactly what I’m accusing you of.” Your name falling from his mouth as a twitch in her eye gave it away. “I’m sorry for what happened to your brother, but what he did to her was wrong, and you got caught covering up for him. None of that is her fault. And you come back trying to take her families livelihood away and on top of that, try to take her partner away from her too just because you can’t let go from something that happened when you were both still teenagers. Move on, Daenerys. This isn’t healthy.”

Stepping out the door only a bit as Jon turned, raising her voice. “So that is it? You walk away now after telling me off for things that are not your concern?”

If she expected it, she didn’t seem to show it in how quickly she leaned away from him. Stepping close to her personal space, Jon all but growled in his voice with dark eyes looking down at her with your name. “Everything that concerns her, is my concern.” Moving away only a little, Jon feigned as much respect as he could but still let such impulsive feelings slip out. “I’d wish you luck on your campaign, but we both know I wouldn’t mean it. Consider this you losing the support of the North.”

He knew she watched him the entire way down to his car, throwing his bag in the back seat and not waiting another second in the lot before pulling out and down the road. Glancing down to his phone Jon considered stopping to send you a message in case he didn’t make it back in time, but Jon knew the route from the Shadow Tower back to Winterfell. And how quickly he could get there in the empty middle of the night traffic, perhaps not following the speed limits as much as he should’ve.

But he had somewhere else to be, and someone to get to. She tried to use him for her spite but Jon had still alone be responsible for leaving you for a week in such a vulnerable position. And that was no ones fault but his.

The last you recalled was seeing Robb show up to pick you up from the bar, and yet you had no idea how you got to where you awoke. The sun blurred from your eyes as dark curtains were pulled across the window, early enough you presumed that it had only just peeked over the darkness. For a moment you felt confused as to where you were instead of how, a warm figure behind you keeping you pulled back into their front with a hand more loose against your waist as if a tighter grip had been there when the owner of it was awake.

For a moment you had a thought still marred by the alcohol in your system of what was possibly realistic, wondering if you had done something horrible and ended up in Robbs bed, only to come to your senses. Even if somehow being drunk turned you into a woman suddenly with no morals of commitment towards a partner, it wasn’t as if Robb of all people would take advantage of that. But the warmth, the familiarity, and only when you registered the feeling of longer curls against your skin where he lay behind you did you realize you were in Jons room, with him.

Frozen for a moment, you once again worried you did something wrong, but your heart refused to let it grow that time. At the very least, you could recall words in your head Tormund had spoke of the night before and thought to yourself in such a wakening state, perhaps you should trust him for now. Stop acting so scared right off the bat, give Jon the chance Tormund was insisting on. But for you, you couldn’t just lay back in his arms yet. Not when you hadn’t even spoken.

Inch by inch did you slip from his grasp, and a miracle was granted to you as Ghost did not wake up from his bed either. The moment before you slipped out the door, you turned back to look. He must have come right from wherever he was last. Still in his Nights Watch attire as you were your clothes from last night, sans your boots no doubt. Jons strictness about any shoes on his bed of course.

Curls wild and even a hint of stress in what normally was his most peaceful time, maybe he didn’t have the week you were trying to convince yourself he had. Really, he looked no better then you felt. But you had your routine. Showers normally saved for night, you needed one this early if only to wash the grime off your skin from the bar. Standing before the mirror after, there wasn’t even much there. An indicator neither of you had been home in days.

Teeth brushed and mouthwash, ridding any access of what was whatever you drank in access of last night, for the most part the next little while as you felt a little more calm trying to do your hair alone, the stubborn thought in your head that it was so much easier when Jon would happily stand behind you and help with the bulk of it for you.

Creeping into your room, intentions on finally choosing something fresh to wear before looking down to notice someone had even plugged your phone in for you, but atop your dresser sat clothes chosen out that you know you didn’t pick. You recognized the writing right away, and while you didn’t know yet what it meant, it seemed Robb thought it spoke for itself.

“You’re not going into work. Dress comfortably for once. That’s an order.”

A smile was easy after that. Part of you wanted to feel bad, wanted to think of a way to make it up to Robb but you could predict that outcome. A lecture all of your own to stop trying to owe people back things they do out of kindness alone. Robb was not a man afraid of getting rough, and would all but drag you out of the kitchen by just picking you up and placing you out in the main room whenever you tried to take over either his or Theons night to cook when you thought they could use a break.

Stepping out into the main hall, Jons door was wide open as you could hear the sounds of both Ghost and Grey Wind pattering about. Inhaling deeply, your eyes fluttering closed for only that moment as you told yourself to just be a big girl and talk to him. Though maybe that would be less intimidating if the last interaction between you, was not you being too upset to respond to him trying to tell you he loves you.

Coming to the kitchen, you could see what he was doing before he noticed you. Clearly your intoxication had not passed him by, recognizing the ingredients sitting out as he prepared them. You stood there, internally following his steps as he did each in exact order as usual. After nights all of you would enjoy a good too many drinks, it became habit that Jon woke up first. Always making something easy and helpful for you to get down once you woke up, and then jesting to Robb and Theon when they’d ask what he made them, “Neither of you are girls, you can make your own drink.”

Theon normally joking with a bite if he was being bigoted, only for Jon to grunt out a simple, “Only towards you two.” But the others weren’t anywhere to be seen, it was only you two to deal with your failures towards him with two direwolves to watch.

Jon hadn’t even turned towards you, looking almost too soft in such casual clothes compared to his normal uniform with his voice rasping in as gentle tones as he could saying your name. “Sit down before you get lightheaded.”

He knew you so well even without glancing, knowing with little in your system but remnants of alcohol you likely hadn’t had much else to give you energy. His curls pulled all the way back in a bit more of a messy manner as if simply haphazardly throwing it up to get it out of his way quickly, but you could see his shoulders deflate with tension as he clearly could see from the corner of his vision when you sat down in your normal spot without debate.

Instantly the sounds of Ghost trotting over to you filled the air as a happy whine came out from the direwolf. Your hands running over his head and ears as he rested his head in your lap, not noticing Jons grey eyes bright and shining looking over to you with his wolf so perfectly. A dark feeling only just coming about him, having to swallow roughly and turn back to grabbing the smaller, more quiet hand blender at the thought that Daenerys would have ever thought she could take Jon away from this.

Grey Wind followed suit but with more of his respectable demeanour, nudging you happily beside Ghost but allowing the pure white furred red eye’d goofball to soak up all of the needy attention. Suddenly making a low sound to the other, both direwolves turned back to give you space as Jon had finally turned to indicate to them both to leave be.

Coming up to you, one hand put it down in front of you, the other without any hesitation running gently over the back of your still damp hair as he sat in his seat pulling it a bit closer to you then it normally would sit. Glancing down, you felt almost as spoiled as you did like a child. The right fruits you liked and the one metal straw in the entire kitchen found to put in, always after you once ever so briefly mentioned preferring straws like a child, he had not hesitated to do things as care filled as he always did for you.

Muttering a thank you, your hand reached out to the glass but pulled back slight for a moment, looking over to his soft gaze with a worry. “Jon, I want to a-”

His hand running down your hair more toying with the strands through his fingers, he nodded to the glass with a low rasp. “Don’t worry about that right now. Just drink, let’s get you feeling better first.”

Neither of you spoke for a bit, so far, you didn’t need too. Jon never left toying with your hair, nor even move away anywhere near far enough to lose his warmth. In fact it felt as if he kept getting closer. Prompting you to keep going when you’d pause for too long, both of you knowing he made you just the right amount you would need and not any bit more then that.

The hand in your hair slipped to run across the top of your back as he muttered that he’d handle it when you even twitched to get up to clean it. You stood regardless, looking at his back turned realizing that it wasn’t just unfair to compare Jon to Karl or Ramsay. It was downright insulting. Jon was the only man whose ever looked at you with such a softness or dealt with you with such precise care.

Hands braced against the cool feeling of the fridge, you leaned your side into it not knowing if you would be able to summon the courage to say it all in a calm and thought out manner before he turned around. But as he did, and you hadn’t just as you thought, Jon stepped closer to you anyways.

Not waiting more, a hand coming to rest at your waist while the other traced two knuckles of your neck and cheek, using them to tilt you up to look at him. Taking the reigns himself, his eyes soft but with a sadness that looked like a guilt, but not a scary sort of guilt. One of something far more dipped in trust then that to feel scared by it. “I shouldn’t have just left like I did. That was wrong. You were upset, you needed me, and I took off for a week. And if I was sorry for that, I’m even more sorry that it was with her.” Now running down the hair at the side of your head, your hands tentatively moved to rest along his torso. “I should’ve said no in the first place, and I should’ve stayed long enough to talk it out with you. Because then I’d have known who she is to you, and never would’ve even considered doing it. I would’ve called Mormont then and there and told him to send anyone else, but I didn’t, and I’m so sorry, darling.”

Nodding a little, you looked not yet at this eyes anymore but more distracting yourself purposely down, presently at his collarbones. “I thought you’d do the worst, and that was...horrible of me- no, Jon it was. It’s insulting to even put a piece of you where someone like Ramsay or Karl are like, you’re not and you wouldn’t do what they did and it was horrible of me to push you away for something you didn’t even do.” Hands sliding a bit more comfortably on his chest, Jon finally cupped your cheek, slowly raising his other hand to cup the other. Tilting your forehead to press a kiss before resting against it.

Only you both stood there with nothing more to say for the moment, and truly Jon realized telling you what she tried to do wasn’t worth it. You had enough pain, this wouldn’t even do anything but add to it. You had him, and he had you, that should be enough without bringing her into it anymore then she already tried to be. “If I tell you I love you, are you going to start crying again?”

It wasn’t a mock, but a very tender teasing as he pulled you up to look at him. Your smile small against his brighter one but you shook your head. In a suprise to him, you leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek before returning flat on your own feet. “Is it too late to tell you I love you back?”

Jon didn’t dignify that with a response, pulling you into his kiss without a second thought. Your hands coming up to his shoulders, gently wrapping around the back of his neck. Guiding your lips with his soft ones, Jons kissed you with as much need as it was filled with the amount of times he wished he had told you he loved you prior. Never letting you lead as if to tell you, you need not try to match up to him, that you gave him enough. Deepening it, Jon tilted your head up more to keep you at his mercy, not letting you break away. Always surging forward to keep your lips to his whenever you’d attempt parting for air.

Arching a bit more into his front as he deepened it again, more of a greed this time, a small sound high pitched and needy came from your chest. Both hands dropping to your hips, Jon moved you almost so slow you didn’t notice until your back found the edge of the counter. Holding him tighter, Jon crept into your space, pressing more against your front as his kiss grew rougher and rougher with a greed almost bordering too much to not be noticed as a strong need. One hand still tight at your hip, his other grasped your cheek and jaw, tilting you better to his lips again as he nibbled against your bottom lip.

More the once leaving a tingling sensation in it’s wake as Jon instead of indulging in how easily you parted your lips for him, he pulled away without any thought. Dropping his head down to your neck, lips and tongue soaking up and down the sensitive skin of your neck as you held him tighter, leaning more into his touch. The hand on your cheek slid to grasp your hair, pulling it out of his path and using the grip now to tilt your head giving him more space as you so willingly let him move you.

The moment his teeth sunk into your skin, a loud gasp left you, arching into his touch as his hips begun to press more firmly and noticeably against yours. On an instinct in such an open space, one hand left him to cover your mouth. Only for Jon to leave your hip, yanking the hand away and pushing it to rest against the counter behind you as he kept his own covering yours. Leaning even harder into your front, now a slight shifting as you moved to his touch. Both of you knowing me meant for you to feel his cock twitch and harden against you.

Dragging his teeth rough up and down your neck, only transitioning into his gentle kiss and licks across the bite to sooth the sting before returning to the same feeling making you cry out needy for him now free in the air. “Jon..” Almost weak and unsure in what you were asking for, time need not pass as he still know your needs better.

It was still new, you still did not really know what you liked, but Jon did. Jon knew your body like it was an instrument he had long since mastered the art in playing, he could figure out anything you liked and what you needed when you had not even the understanding to know what that need consisted of. It was bold but Jon knew sometimes he had to be bold.

Hands running under your shirt, Jon found the edge of your sports bra right away, grasping firmly you read his intention, pulling your hands from him as he used the leverage to pull your shirt and bra off. The tight later material snapping as almost as if a show for him, bounced in the jostle as he carelessly tossed it to the ground.

Black and narrowed he stared at you before shaking his head with a gruff mutter through his teeth, “Any man who wouldn’t want this is blind.” Capturing your lips again, did both his rough hands grasp your breasts. Tightly groping with no mercy, pushing them together as he roughly groped at them before sliding to the small buds peaking in the cold kitchen air. Biting at your bottom lip, Jon pulled away to look at your eyes the second he yanked. And not gently, a rough yank that had your core shake in need as you felt the wetness grow within seconds for him. Eyes forced in a silent command to meet his, your mouth dropped open in need as he twisted and yanked before groping your breasts all over again so roughly.

Skipping a path, Jon moved enough so his mouth took over as one hand moved to steady you at your hip. The same soaking and yet rough treatment he had marked your neck up did Jon run his lips and teeth over your breasts. Bruising marks into it with a growling need, only becoming more intense each time you gasped into the air in plea of his name. Sinking his teeth onto your nipple more roughly you cried out so much louder as he matched in harshly pulling and twisting your other with his calloused fingertips.

Hardly tearing away, the only thing splitting the trail of saliva between his mouth and your chest as moving to the other. Giving the same rough treatment and yet your chest arched into his mouth making him all the more greedy and bold. Groping rough, and biting down even rougher then before as he more purposely pulled your other nipple pulling a loud sound into the air from you. So he did it again, and again and as your core soaked you under your clothes did Jons cock throb unbearably hard.

Jon was there for a while, attacking your chest and leaving proof of his presence in bruises and teeth indents as he pulled away. Still pushing and pulling them together in a more rough massaging manner, Jon returned to full height. Speaking to you through very strained gritted teeth and eyes black as he met your eyes even as he hands were rough on your breasts. “I was going to wake you up with my mouth. That morning I had to leave you before you woke up. I was so close to tasting you when I got called in, and all I’ve been able to think about since is you.” Never not roughly adding to the sting on your chest from his tough hands, Jon leaned forward to urgently capture your lips in a deep kiss before pulling away to run his nose along yours. “There hasn’t been a single day I haven’t wanted to spread you for me, taste you until you cry and then sink my cock inside you until you don’t even have it in you to cry anymore.” Another kiss, that time biting at your lip roughly. “Fuck you until you don’t remember anything in your life but how I feel inside of you.” Another bite. “Do you want that?”

Nodding, Jon demanded you say it outloud. “Please, please, Jon I want that. I promise, I want you.” Gritting out in what way, you were far more honest in such a need Jon knew you weren’t even aware you were begging him with a true desperation. “Inside me, please. Gods I want you inside me, I’ve missed you so much.”

Eyes rolling into the back of his head, Jon grappled with himself as he kissed you. He always prepared you, always, but something about having you here begging for his cock sent Jons brain into a feeling almost raw and feral like an animal. Leaving your chest, Jon yanked your pants and underwear both right off and tossed them too. Standing at full height he pulled his own shirt off before cupping your cheeks for another rougher kiss. “Take them off for me.”

The way in which you knelt down without question to pull Jons own pants off with such slow care, contrasted to the quick speed which you got on your knees was unfair. Cupping the side of you face, Jons chest heaved with his breathing staring down at you. You almost didn’t know what he wanted for a moment, and yet unlike anytime before him, did you feel your now bare thighs want to clench together at the thought with him. Almost asking with your movements, your hands found his thighs and drifted up to his hips.

His cock thick and long, hard right at your mouths perfect reach looking up at him, staring down at you with something dark. In truth, neither you or Jon were sure if he was aware he had said it, as if so raw in need it slipped out as dark as it did. “You’d look so beautiful on my cock. So deep in your mouth you couldn’t breathe until I spilled down your throat.”

Biting your tongue from begging him, you leaned a bit closer to his cock. Almost presenting yourself as something for his need and use, but Jon shook his head and yanked you up. Hoisting you up onto the counter, Jon spread your legs and invaded the space between, holding your hips tightly as his cock sat heavy between your legs. Trying to entice him gentle into the right head space, you ran a hand gentle along his cheek and down his coarse facial hair. “I’ll take your cock.” Hands tightening to the point it was leaving bruises as his eyes were painted over in black looking down your frame. “In any way you want me to, I’ll be good, I’ll take it I promise.”

Jon truly fought with himself. He wanted to be gentle, and easy and comforting but you looked at him with such strong trust that you knew he might have done anything at that point. Instead he yanked you over the edge of the counter, one hand gripping the back of your neck to rest your forehead to his, Jon gave you a view of his other hand. Gripping the thick base of his cock, Jon guided himself to your core.

The tight grip on your neck tightened further to force you to pay attention, as Jon slid every single thick inch inside of you in one go. Smooth but so tight and warm around him, you took Jons cock with no resistance. Crying out as your hands dug into his shoulders, your head would've hung even if he didn’t force you to watch him.

Slowly pushing all the way inside of you, Jon didn’t even linger. He was cruel, slowly sliding almost all the way out to the point only his tip remained inside of you. The whine in your chest as Jons eyes flew up to meet yours, but you were so good for him, you didn’t beg or even ask. You’d take whatever he gave you, and Jon just as slowly sunk right back to make you take his whole length. That time not letting you look away from his eyes, your hands on his shoulders. Slowly thrusting inside of you, Jon never wavered in his rhythm. Slow as his cock slid in and out of you with such a soaking sound it would’ve humiliated you if his black eyes weren’t neatly hypnotizing you.

The hand on your hip moved to what he could cup of your ass, pushing you further over the counter. A grunt close to a growl left Jon, eyes closing as he felt as if he was somehow thrusting even deeper inside of you. Hand right of what his fingertips could feel of your plush ass, and once more it came from something Jon didn’t even know he could’ve said to you. “Tonight, darling, I’ll remind you we belong to each other. I’ll taste you until your soaked, I’ll fill your beautiful mouth before fucking you just like this.” Another grunt almost forming to a groan left Jon as his head rose up to almost beg for air to breathe properly despite your core burning so much at his twisting pleasure he stole all your air. “I’ll fuck you as much as you want, darling. But then, I’m going to flip you over, and take you here too.”

Fingers treading to your ass enough to make you jump, but never pushing too far. Only arching more into his touch as he again sunk in and out of your soaking walls, his cock so thick the stretch stung to the point that if it were any but Jon, you’d have wanted to stop. But you couldn’t get over how much your insides twisted in need, barley finding air to beg for him. “I can take it, please-”

His pattern never stopped, he never sped his hips up, nor did he slow down. Jon fucked you nice and deep and slow right on the kitchen counter, sweat building between your bare bodies against one another as your hands grasped at his shoulders. “You don’t now what you can take. I have to show you. You don’t know you’d want my cock deep in your ass until I’m already fucking you there over and over.” You just nodded, you could only agree with no thoughts beyond how close to the sun his cock burned through you. “We can do all of that, but you need to look at me. Now.”

Rising up, Jon still refused to leave his pace, your muscles shaking all around him at how close you were, at how you could hear each time he sunk into you by how coated you made his cock. “Jon..”

Leaving your ass, one hand back on your hip keeping you steady as he fucked into you without letting you even move with him, taking control entirely of the cruelly slow, yet so deeply intimate pace. The other cupping the back of your neck again to keep you close, nudging your nose with his. “Promise me you’ll never doubt this again. Promise me you’ll never trick yourself into thinking I’d want to be with any woman who isn’t you.”

The look on your face was far more wide eyed and innocent then Jon expected and you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you as a result. “I promise, I love you. I’ll never doubt that Jon, I promise.”

A single nod getting through before Jon leaned forward as he pushed your head to to capture your lips in his kiss. The gasp leaving you letting him slide his tongue inside your mouth, brushing along yours coaxing you to follow suit and explore him. But when you were too shy, Jon took the lead once more. Pulling you closer and closer to your end did Jon finally pick up the pace.

Not anywhere near fast, but steady as the sounds of how wet and deep he sunk into you filled the air over and over. Your core twisting and setting on fire, before Jon pulled back enough to bite at your lips and turn back to a deep yet chaste kiss did you find your end.

Arching into his front, Jon let you suddenly hide in his neck. Grasping at your hips tightly though, Jon did not let up. Pulling you as much as the angle could to meet his every thrust, sliding in and out of you at a matching pace he moved you to before pulling you as much as he pushed deep inside of you. One arm wrapping around your back to pull you into him, the other grasping at your hair as Jon hid in there, groaning your name deeply into your ear. Just as deep as he came. Spilling his seed inside of you, pouring thick and deep as it felt hot, Jon kept going. The more you begged meekly into his neck, the more your tight walls clenched around his cock did Jon spill more and more thick spurts of his seed inside of you with not a single bit of shame.

You felt almost lightheaded as he pulled you up to meet your eyes. Yours hazy and needy, but Jons were bright and loving as if he was not still deep inside you. One last kiss to your lips, Jon smiled a bit at how you just clung onto him like you were exhausted. Not everything was fixed, but you were happy that it was a step in the right direction. One more kiss, Jon rasped against them as his hot breath danced across your skin. “I know you had a shower, but I think I want you with me in a hot bath for a while.”

Nodding, Jon knew you’d agree to nearly anything right now. Preparing you that he was going to pull you, Jon shushed you through the wince before picking you up. He’d deal with the mess and scattered clothes he left behind of you both later. After a week of being away from you in such a horrid manner, all Jon could focus on right now was having you laying back against his chest in his arms with soothing hot water around, so he could take care of you. He had you alone for once, he was going to take advantage of it.

But Jon was not the only one who lived there. Intending on stopping by only to see how you were, did the remains of a scene lay out. One he knew he wasn’t supposed to walk into the aftermath of, Jon no doubt would put the kitchen back into respectable order before the others were set to come home. But eyes looked down to your clothes.

The ones he sat out for you. He had been the one to call Jon, to tell him to come fix things with you and you and his brother being happy is what he wanted. But as he stood there looking at your clothes in the remains of a passionate scene, there was only one strange thought in his head.

Why did Robb feel so intensely, almost unbearably jealous?

[uselesslexbian]

the last olympian by rick riordan sentence starters.

i know the timing is bad. but it's always bad for you, isn't it?

is he giving you a hard time?

i'm glad you're not dead.

her pride has been wounded. she'll calm down eventually.

what do you want me to say?

you run away from things when you're scared.

you're a coward.

you are better off without that traitor.

you can't prevent a prophecy.

you have your father's eyes.

promise me you'll be safe.

is that why you're here - to warn me against going?

thanks for not freaking out.

i can't do it without you.

please. it would mean a lot. for old times' sake?

excuse me, but if you're going to kill me, could you just get on with it?

well, this one has an attitude.

and why should i trust you?

we have to get out of here.

you're not getting away from me that easily.

you mean you don't trust me anymore.

you're the only person who might be able to get him to listen.

you're looking at me funny.

we could use a fighter like you.

you're a part of our family now. and i promise i won't let anything hurt you.

i'm not going to fail you like our families did us.

i promise everything will be okay. nothing's going to hurt you.

you should've left that subject alone.

you should've saved him when you had the chance. you're the only one who could have.

i bet my adventures were more dangerous than yours.

i don't want anything to happen to you.

don't i get a kiss for good luck? it's kind of a tradition, right?

you're cute when you're worried.

you are not going to die while i owe you a favor.

why did you take that knife?

you would've done the same for me.

you don't know my family. please, i can't lose you.

all i want is respect.

you don't love me.

what's going to happen to me?

if you love me, tell me.

i was just about to wake you.

i always mess things up.

that's what i do. i help my friends.

you stupid aphrodite girl.

you're not dying.

well... sure good to be together again. arguing. almost dying. abject terror.

you've done enough. i want you to stay here and help with the wounded.

you're not going to do anything stupid, are you?

do you love death so much you wish to experience it?

you have to trust me.

you promised.

you always pushed yourself too hard.

did you love me?

you got something to say to me?

you're laughing at me.

you are so not making this easy.

i am never, ever going to make things easy for you. get used to it.

oh, come on. is there no privacy?

you are so going to lose.

[casanovawrites]

random sentence prompts  ━ from various tv shows, part 9

don’t look back. remember? this is all we need.

if we kiss, you’ll be healed.

it’s not real. you just need someone to save.

could you at least wait until i’m gone?

everyone’s scared of something.

words just kind of fall out of my mouth sometimes.

it’s hot, sexy, heroic.

i took the blame to protect you.

this whole time, i’ve been trying to prove myself. prove that i belong. that i’m tough enough, strong enough. 

i care about you so much, but it just doesn’t feel the same as it used to.

by the way, now would be an excellent time to have a reliable therapist.

if even one person sees you, you don’t count as invisible anymore.

i give, like, a huge fuck. i give the biggest fuck.

i know we’re family.

i’m actually dealing with life or death things right now.

do you think i wanna be like this?

i suffer from anxiety and dread.

you have no idea what i’ve given up to protect you.

i will never find a new you.

i’d give you anything, because i love you.

if you’re in that much of a hurry to fucking die, you should just go and do it.

the second we stop looking for answers, that’s when we lose. 

we could’ve died. there’s no way we could’ve survived that.

i don’t wanna find out who i am without you.

we could be anywhere, i mean we could be here, we could be there, we could be anywhere in the world, but it would not matter, because you are my home. and i would really like to be yours.

you’re pretty when you smile.

maybe nothing’s ever gone.

i have to remind myself to breathe sometimes.

who doesn’t want easy? who doesn’t want to just fucking be okay?

i’ve never been more scared before. i’ve also never felt more alive.

being ready and being nervous aren’t mutually exclusive.

i respect you. you don’t take shit from anyone, including me. which is very cool.

i didn’t think you’d be the type to be into sharing your feelings.

when we had sex, it didn’t mean anything. it was a mistake.

a final girl must have a high threshold for pain.

i lost my mind for a couple of days. it just felt good to have a distraction. 

whenever i see some filth, i think of you.

the universe decided to drop a reminder of my greatest failure on my doorstep.

always focusing on someone else’s problem makes it easier to ignore your own.

i always knew that there was a part of you that i could never touch.

the best that i could do was love you and hope that that was enough to keep you here.

i’ve only ever done my best to save lives.

do not talk to me about pain.

it’s broken. i’m broken. and i can’t fix it.

you said we were a family. you lied. 

i’d play the hero ten times over if it meant being here with all of you.

so, as it turns out, my life is wherever you are.

try to concentrate on everything you have waiting for you when you get out of here.

you have someone waiting for you. i do not.

yeah i fucked up, but i did it my way.

it’s real, and i’m fucking terrified.

i’m doing way worse than sending nudes.

i can just radically accept that my mom is a cunt.

i’m like obsessed with being cool and popular. it’s fucking pathetic.

i think shitty things keep happening because i’ve been a self-centered asshole.

she’s mean to me. am i into that?

you’re just jealous because someone actually loves me.

i’ve never been this close to someone i’m not hooking up with. i just have a fucked up sense of intimacy.

you always make loving me seem like the easiest thing in the world.

it’s exhausting to lose a loved one.

she’s really great. she’s so great it scares the shit out of me.

am i being shitty? i don’t wanna be shitty.

being back in that house just reminds me i’ve always felt really, really lonely here.

talking about you ain’t making it about you.

everyone stares at me. i’m famous.

we don’t really have a great relationship just ‘cause of the whole ‘dead’ thing.

i don’t wanna be here anymore. i wanna be where you are.

so you’re mad at me for pushing you to be better?

i wanted to be here with you, ‘cause you’re in my head.

your superpower is that you’re shameless.

it’s not the end of the world. it’s just the beginning.

i know you. you’re already making decisions out of fear.

you said you needed me.

i wanted to do it with you.

so you’re willing to lose me, too?

i uprooted my entire life for you. i put you first because i care about you. i can’t believe you won’t do that for me. you’ll never do that for me.

bullshit, you’re lonely all the fucking time. you’re gonna die that way, too.

i guess all the time i feel kind of trapped because i can’t describe how i’m feeling.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

DPS request: Todd has a panic attack and Neil helps him thru it

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Todd has a panic attack after seeing Neil die in his dreams.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Panic attack, Mentions of death and suicide

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Todd Anderson x Neil Perry

Todd's breathing was erratic, his face pale as sweat beaded on his forehead. His body twitched under the covers, lost in the grip of a nightmare that held him captive. Beside him, Neil stirred, hearing the small, frantic whimpers escape Todd’s lips.

At first, Neil thought Todd was just shifting in his sleep, but when he heard the soft, broken cry of his name, his heart clenched. "No… Neil… please don't…" Todd muttered, his voice cracking with fear.

Neil sat up, alarmed, and gently shook Todd's shoulder. "Todd? Hey, it's just a dream," he said softly, voice filled with concern. Todd didn't wake up immediately, but Neil could see the sheer terror etched into his features. "Todd, wake up. I'm here, I'm right here."

After a few more moments of Neil's soft coaxing, Todd jolted awake with a sharp gasp, his chest heaving. His wide, blue eyes darted around the room in panic, as if searching for something—or someone. "Neil?" His voice was hoarse and filled with desperation.

"I'm right here," Neil whispered, taking Todd's hand in his and squeezing it gently. "You're okay. It's just a dream." He moved closer, wrapping an arm around Todd's trembling shoulders.

Todd collapsed into Neil's embrace, clutching at his shirt as if afraid he might disappear. His breathing was still shaky, and his hands trembled. "Y-You… you were gone," Todd stammered, his voice breaking. "You—Neil, you—" He couldn't finish the sentence, tears welling up in his eyes.

Neil pulled Todd closer, kissing the top of his head, feeling Todd’s heartbeat pounding against his chest. "I'm not going anywhere. I’m right here, Todd, and I’m not leaving you. Ever."

Todd buried his face into Neil's chest, the tears finally spilling over. He clung to Neil like a lifeline, trying to push away the remnants of his nightmare. "It felt so real," he choked out, voice muffled by Neil's shirt. "You… you died. You killed yourself. I tried to stop you, but I couldn’t… and I woke up, and you were gone, and—"

Neil tightened his grip on Todd, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "Shh, I'm here. I’m alive. It was just a dream, I promise." His voice was calm, reassuring, and filled with the quiet strength Todd needed.

As Neil continued to hold him, Todd’s sobs slowed, his body relaxing bit by bit. Neil didn’t rush him, letting Todd take his time to steady his breathing. He brushed his fingers through Todd’s hair, murmuring soft words of comfort as he waited for the panic to ebb away.

After a long while, Todd sniffed, his voice small but steady. "I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you."

Neil shook his head, pulling back just enough to look at Todd’s tear-streaked face. "Don’t apologize. I’m glad you woke me. You don’t have to go through that alone." He smiled gently, wiping away the tears with his thumb. "Besides, you’re the most important thing to me. I’ll always be here to help."

Todd’s heart swelled at Neil’s words, the terror from the nightmare fading under the warmth of Neil’s love. "Thank you," he whispered, leaning into Neil’s touch. "I… I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," Neil promised, resting his forehead against Todd’s. "We’re in this together. Always."

In the quiet aftermath of the storm, Todd found himself feeling lighter, the weight of the nightmare lifting. As Neil pulled the blankets back up over them, tucking Todd safely against his side, he realized that with Neil, he’d never have to face his fears alone.

Todd sighed softly, his body finally relaxing fully into Neil’s warmth. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Neil’s smile widened, pressing another kiss to Todd’s temple. "I love you too. Now get some rest, alright? I’m right here."

With Neil’s arm wrapped protectively around him, Todd closed his eyes, the steady rhythm of Neil’s heartbeat soothing him back to sleep. This time, there were no nightmares—only the comfort of knowing that Neil would always be there when he needed him most.

anderperry is so adorable!! (i so wish neil not dying was canon)

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Loki (The Mechanisms)

Flashes like camera bulbs fire in my brain/Is this truly me, am I going insane?/In faint bloody flashes I watch people die/And if that was me, then who am I?

"This one has some context behind it, the album is Norse mythology-inspired scifi and Loki had been helping Odin build a train that would travel through space, specifically a wormhole in space. Loki then attempted to blow up the train and killed Baldr in the process. She was sentenced to death and executed, except Odin lied to everyone and did not execute her. Odin instead fucked up her memories so that she (Odin) could still use Loki's knowledge of the train. This song is Loki grasping for her memories and being unable to keep hold of them. A few songs later we see Sigyn, her wife, finding her and Loki doesn't know who she is"

"JUST. WOW"

The Darkness (Crazy Ex Girlfriend)

We met around the time I started first grade/Every summer after that we'd play solitaire in the shade/On prom night, he was the only boy I kissed/And when he'd visit my dorm, I'd remember how much I'd missed The Darkness/His love for me is pure/The Darkness: he's handsome for a metaphor

"She compares her mental illness to a toxic ex-boyfriend. Saying that, essentially, when you're suffering from something like this, it can be like being in an unhealthy, codependent relationship with your own brain. It breaks down how hard it is to accept recovery conceptualize life without a mental illness when it's been the one constant you've had your whole life. The symptoms are familiar, it's the only thing that truly "gets" you because it lives in your brain. THE LAYERS. IDK MAN. I'VE ALWAYS SEEN MY MENTAL ILLNESS AS A KIND OF HORRIBLE SIGNIFICANT OTHER AND I FELT SEEN LIKE NOTHING ELSE I'VE EVER ENCOUNTERED WHEN I HEARD THIS SONG FOR THE FIRST TIME AND EVERY TIME SINCE"

[its-actually-minicika]

so, feel free totally ignore this if it makes you feel uncomfortable, but I can't stop thinking about a jace x reader fic where reader is sort of dealing with the aftermath of the battle of the gullet.

her and jacerys were involved romantically and when he dies, reader goes berserk and out for blood with the greens: she gets captured eventually and is left to rot in a cell in harrenhall or something, where she talks smack to aemond and reminisces about her time spent with jace...

idk maybe she breaks out and aemond falls in love with her in a reverse-stockholmly way?? it's more like he becomes obsessed and starts taunting her with Vhagar like he did with luke.

or maybe she ends up dying in the cell from exhaustion and all her untreated wounds (because there's no way canon book aemond would ever help the lover of an enemy lmao) and meets jace again in their weird version of westerosi heaven

idk i just need them both so bad lol

The Harshest Winters (!18+!)

Pairing(s): Jacaerys x Reader, somewhat implied Aemond x Reader ??? it's just really fucked up, man;

Warnings: major character death, strong language, mentions of SA, some spoilers for Fire&Blood, book canon Aemond, blood and gore, psychological horror, manipulation, manhandling, mentions and descriptions of sex;

Author's Note: whiew, this was definitely something! Thank you so much for the request, Nonny - I loved diving into this one :") I hope that this is to your liking!!

Part 2 is out now!

She was sentenced to forever remember him by name only - Jacaerys' face would dim with time across her memory, leaving only a distant face in the back of her mind.

As she rots in the coldest pits of Harrenhal, (Y/N) remembers him, day after day and night after night.

"Promise me you'll come back alive." The girl hushed into the quiet war room. Her eyes scanned over the firelit table, traveling to Jace's sprawled out hands and broad form.

His eyes lit up. Brilliant brown hues, filled with so much love for her. His calloused fingers, still trailing over the waters of the Steptstones, that versed well into the Gullet.

"I promise." Jacaerys spoke to her, tone serious and somewhat strained. "My love..." He mused at the notice of her furrowed brows, and took three wide steps towards her.

As his hands reached for her, she leaned into his warm touch, so palpable and real.

The two hugged for what felt like an eternity. The Prince of Dragonstone kissed the crown of her head tenderly, his heart beating in a calming tune, that could have once lulled the woman into the deepest of sleeps.

"You've never lied to me before." She sniffed into his wide chest, pressing herself against him with renowed ferocity. "Do not let this be the first time."

Jace only smiled and cupped her jaw soothingly.

The nights without him were the toughest.

(Y/N) was irritated, on the verge of frenezy - the ghosts of her past played cruel jokes on her health of mind, making her see red before her - his face, whenever she closed her eyes to sleep.

In the three weeks that she spent in the prison cell, after having been captured and enslaved by Aemond, not once had she seen his face apart from their first fated meeting.

How stupid she was, drawing her sword to him, engaging him in a field of falling men.

How could she not see his flock of Green Loyalists, who suddenly came behind her back?

The heavy wound in her lower abdomen and the numbness of her left foot were all her fault. The puss that was dripping from her daft fingers, as well.

At least she had beat the shivers, she told herself insistently. But how long will it be, until she meets the Stranger due to her horrid wounds?

Left all alone, trapped well within those four walls of damp stone, the girl could do nothing but mumble and think to herself:

Aemond Targaryen had fought bravely, she had to at least give him that. Although she too would have had balls of steel atop a dragon - and one not even close to Vhagar's size.

He had granted her the courtesy of letting her die in the pains of cold and hunger - flesh eaten away by the ghastly infection, rotting to a point that had one's stomach churn and wail.

A small tear rolled from her shut eyes, and her jaw clenched tight - no one would come to rescue her, and it was clear as day that even the soldiers who came to guard her cell at night stopped bothering to show up. Perhaps the reek of death proved to be too much for them.

Perhaps they preferred to sit outside, and bask themselves in the fine light and smell of putrid ash.

Perhaps.

Slowly, yet surely, (Y/N) tried to sit up straight, but a blinding pain sent her right on her exposed back again. She hissed from the pressure that her inexperienced bandage applied on her closing wound, but relentlessly tired to get up again and again.

Eventually, she stilled as she got up on her right foot, and leaned into the wall for help in supporting her raw weight.

"Fucking shit, fucking assholes, fucking Greens, nasty cock-suckers, fucking die...!" She sobbed into the breached wall, gripping the stone edges with all her might and heaving out one pained breath after the other.

"I didn't know I was keeping a whore alive, in the stead of a respected Lady." A croaky, albeit mellow voice rang out.

(Y/N) could feel her knee wobble in fear.

She bit her tongue in an attempt to stop her snarl, and steadied herself with her hands still clinging to the wall.

"Kinslayer." She spoke in a brittle voice, and cursed herself for the undeniable softness that was laced in her tone - she was far too weakened to talk to him. And much less to fight once more.

Aemond's nostrils flared, in a weird concucsion of both anger and grief. His jaw tightened as his hand curled into a fist.

"Traitor." He grates out in retaliation, but lets a bemused expression to curl up his lips. His face narrows, and a flicker, a spark of fury dances in his remaining eye.

"You grace me with your presence, Prince Aemond. You really shouldn't have." (Y/N)'s eyes trail to the sword that rests upon his hip, and she can feel her blood turn cold once his feet carry him so awfully close to her defenseless form.

Her chest rises and falls in pent up frustration. Even if she tried to, she couldn't kill him now. But maybe she could gouge out his good eye.

Before her thoughts can come to a close, Aemond cruelly smirks to himself, and unsheats his sword to lower it to (Y/N)'s face. "It's a pity. You've never been a beauty, but now you're rendered to almost completely useless." He tuts lightly, turning her face with each languid movement of his sharp blade.

"I had in mind to let my men fuck you." He remarks dryly, but lets out a disappointed sigh. "But I don't think any of them would get it up to your whorish face."

His words startle the woman, and her eyes widen in disgust, as her throat tightens in and over itself.

"No... A look so wild and a grisly body such as this are better suited for dogs than men."

(Y/N) is shaking with fear and rage alike. She takes in a deep breath, and closes her eyes to listen.

He's bluffing. This is a test. This is a challenge. And either way, he has a sword. He could cut you up in a thousand little red ribbons of flesh if you uttered the wrong word.

The girl repeats the same mantra in her head, and swallows thickly. Soon, very soon he will get bored of taunting her.

But why? Why, why come now? Why pay her a visit after weeks of captivity?

He wants you to do something for him, in exchange for fresh air and a clean set of clothes, a small voice inside her head whispers to her.

Aemond hums wistfully and brings a hand to play with her house's crest, that rests atop her caved chest in a twisted necklace.

"You are Elmo Tully's only daughter." He asserts calmly, and reaches to twirl around her darkened strands of hair. "The Lord of Riverrun pledged his banners to that withered cunt because of you."

His eyebrows raised in mock surprise, and his sword came to a halt below her jaw. Attentively, he grazed her skin with the hilt of it, paying attention not to break in a single cut.

"But now... there's no reason for them to fight on her side, is it? You're ours to spare or kill, and your bastard lover boy is rotting in the sea."

His words sparked a fire inside the girl's soul. Without thinking, she took a step forward, and gripped her hand atop his over the hilt of the sword. In just a second, her free hand had found a way to his pale face.

The aftermath of the loud slap echoed throughout the dark room, and Aemond grabbed the lady by the hair, bringing her to her knees with a strong, downward pull.

"I will put a muzzle on you if you don't behave, tie you down and feed you to Vhagar, but not before I berate you in front of everyone still alive from the Twins to Harrenhal."

A small whimper escapes her lips, and the One Eyed prince gives her one last harsh tug, before freeing her dirty locks.

"Look at the mess you've made." He chastises with a click of his tongue, bringing his grimy hand to her face again. "You dirty fucking whore, I should make you lick me clean."

His furious stare melts into an amused one, and Aemond the Kinslayer laughs.

"I bet you would love that, wouldn't you?" He cooed while glancing down at her, forcing a finger into her resisting mouth. "You've been Jacaerys' slut for so long, haven't you? Wouldn't you like to be fucked by a real man, too?"

Aggravated by his running mouth and exherted by all her remaining patience, (Y/N) bit down on his fingers, hard, drawing a metallic taste in her mouth and a guttural groan from Aemond.

"I thank you for your gentle offer. But I heard you're already busy enough with that - fucking a bastard of your own in the darkness of these cursed halls."

The Targaryen prince clasped her by the arms tightly, pulling the girl up on her feet and snarling in her face.

"For that, I will give you your brothers' heads."

"Mayhaps they will give me yours."

Aemond's hands would leave her bruised. Of that much, she was certain.

Another permanent reminder of his abuse on her, she mused, letting out a pained sigh.

She grazed the bottom of her lower lip, immersed in deep thought.

Aemond wouldn't kill her. At least, not until the last of her purpose ran up. He might have had Harrenhal secured, but that meant little to his usurper brother and the capital, especially when the Reach provided them with no other allies.

Aegon's cause needed her. They desperately needed her alive, to strike up a deal with her sickly grandfather, and convert both houses Frey and Tully to their side.

Family.

Duty.

Honour.

Her grandfather would do anything to ensure her safety - that much was, again, for certain.

And if Aemond wanted to win this thing, he wouldn't touch a single hair on her delicate head - he couldn't afford to set off the Riverlords.

Having said that, (Y/N) wasn't surprised when the maesters came flooding in, or when her clothes were changed and her bed replaced.

What did surprise her were Aemond's visits - after their initial clash, he came by her cell more and more often.

Sometimes he would speak to her. Ask her about the gravity of her wounds, if she found the lack of light scary. If any soldier made to guard her had talked to her or made her uncomfortable.

Those were what (Y/N) grew to call his "good days".

Most of the time, Aemond would come to her well into the dead of night, scaring her and making her lose sleep for days at a time.

He would apologize with a small quirk of his head, and simply stare at her. Stare for what felt like hours, until he would hum, satisfied, and make his leave.

It was during one of those latter visits that (Y/N) finally spoke:

"Has my grandfather turned his banners? Did he send any lease for me?"

Her question, although innocent enough, angered Aemond. He rose to his feet, eye wide in ire, and he punched the wall of the prison cell - hard.

"From this day onward, you'll sleep in a chamber more fit for a Lady." He hoarsely muttered over his shoulder, as he made his way up the twisted set of stairs. "Soldiers will escort you tonight. Tomorrow, a maid will bathe you."

Although hid from her field of vision, the Tully girl heard how his footsteps came to a halt. The One Eyed Prince clasped his fists painfully, and gritted lowly:

"If you try to escape, you'll meet your end by the way of my blade, My Lady."

The night Lady Tully stepped outside of her prison cell was supposed to be one of the happiest of her entire life.

At the very least, the girl found the night sky to be of a comforting beauty - and the lack of sunrays would be good for her eyes, that got so used to the engulfing darkness of the Dungeons.

Still, she couldn't wait to see the sun.

... Her contentment was short lived - as soon as the smell of ash and blood had hit her nose, the girl almost collapsed.

No matter where she looked, she saw only the bites of fire. Where it spread - over the fertile lands she loved so well -, it left dust and cinder in it's wake.

Her home was ruined.

The fields she used to play in... gone.

The grief and anger replaced the sadness and despair. (Y/N) felt herself shake to the core, and, as she was dragged to the highest tower in the Harrenhal Keep, she swore to kill Aemond for what he'd done.

Yet, a much merrier resolve was going on back and forth in Aemond's chamber, who, after his interaction with (Y/N), was left very wanting and more than frustrated.

Alys was writhing beneath him, mewling in pleasure at his rough touch and merciless pace. Her dark hair was sprawled all over the goose feather pillows, covering her face and lustful stare.

"Mmhh, faster... faster!" She urged him with a breathless moan, moving her hips in unison with his, meeting his thrusts half-way.

Aemond groaned, holding her firmly by the nape of her neck, and closing his lilac eye tightly. His loins were begging for release - a release that was coming very hard to him.

Thoughts that disassociated him from what was happening at present surged through his mind: what he would have to do tomorrow, where he would have to take Vhagar.

Did (Y/N) reach her room yet?

The latter of them sent a pleasant shiver down his spine - with renewed vigour, Aemond pounded into the woman under him. He had found the lead towards his release, and he was not about to let it go.

Images of (y/h/c) replace the dark whisks of hair on Alys' head - her soft skin, her beautiful (y/e/c).

(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N)...

His member twitches urgently inside of Alys, and Aemond continues to defile the Tully girl in his mind, imagining how her face would twist in pleasure as he slowly entered her.

He would be gentle. So, so gentle - he would make her into a babbling mess, so numb from bliss, that her legs would shake around him. He could be selfless with her, find his high only after he was satisfied with the orgasms he pulled from her.

Aemond moaned loudly once he felt Alys tighten around him, and soon spilled out his seed, panting wildly.

Finally, he opened up his eye, and felt the disgust and dissatisfaction that came after his mind-blowing release.

How could he, the Prince Protector of the Realm, think of his nephiew's lover during sex? That ugly, headstrong and frogish looking girl - making the Crown Prince lose his mind in want and lust.

Shit.

He had to see her.

He had to touch her.

He had to have her.

He craved to feel her - even if she were to slap him as she did months ago; he would take anything she gave him. And he would enjoy it tremendously.

Aemond sighed, still planted deep above Alys - he peeled himself from her lean arms, and rolled his shirt back and over his head. Next were his trousers, shoes and leather tunic.

"Where are you going, my love...?" Alys whispered, pressing her naked body on his working back.

Aemond hums expectantly, and turns his body to trap the woman in between the cold wall and his budging arms. He brings his hand out to caress her skin, toying with one of her breasts, until he pushes her roughly against the wall and pulls her by the hair.

"I told you not to call me that" He muses coldly, letting go of the fistful he grabbed mere seconds ago. "We talked about our arrangement, Alys." He tuts lightly, grazing her jaw with his long index finger.

Aemond sighs and lets go of the caged woman, as he straightens his back and begins walking towards the door.

"I want you on the bed, with your legs spread waiting for me. I won't be too long."

Curse Aemond and his meticulosity, the young lady chastised inside her head. The tower in which she was supposed to spend the rest of the war - or however long Aemond wished her to, really - was at the highest level possible. There was no way for her to jump out the window and survive the fall.

But, should there be a need for it... death by falling wasn't the worst of fates. If you managed to break your neck, that is.

A shuddering thought, (Y/N) scorned herself, and not one she could afford at the moment.

Jacaerys was dead - and part of her would be lost with him forever. Above all else, she wanted to feel his soft kiss again, his strong arms protecting her, his gentle caress that never failed to give her butterflies.

One day, she would find him again. One day, they'll reunite, and be back together - as the Gods intended to.

But that day was still far away.

She prayed her grandfather hadn't turned his banners against Rhaenyra's cause. She hoped that her family was safe, and that Riverrun didn't suffer the same fate the fields near Harrenhall had.

Jacaerys was dead. But above all else, she had to stay alive. Fulfil his wish, take care of both their families, until she could allow herself to rest.

Her shaky hand reached for her eyes. She had been crying.

The dirt on her cheeks must have washed away, leaving streaks of her paling skin to poke behind.

She would avenge him. She would avenge them all. Even if that was the last thing she ever did.

The brisk opening of her chamber door made the girl jump in place and turn rapidly on her heel.

Behind the oak aperture, a head of shoulder-lenght silver hair could be seen, followed by a pair of untrusting violet eyes.

"Didn't your mother teach you never to enter a lady's room without knocking first?"

The reprimantion left her lips before (Y/N) could catch herself.

She had to remember that no matter how much Aemond needed her, he was still quick to anger - a true prince of the Blood of the Dragon. Brazen, relentless, cruel.

She was a first daughter, yes. But a third child, coming after two strong boys, that hence secured the Tully line from before she was even born.

He was a man. She was a weakened woman. They were near a window at a plenty ample height, and even she had heard what happened to Queen Helaena.

His footsteps approached her slowly, like a predator would it's prey. It took everything inside the girl to stay put in place, fighting his empty stare with her own.

"It's cold outside." Is all Aemond said, before he strutted towards the open window and closed it back up again.

A myrriad of questions were on her mind. But 'Why are you here?' was replaying the most.

Her back was turned on Aemond. (Y/N) was frozen in place and, although she knew how dangerous it was not to look at him, she feared that a singular look of the man who played a part in killing the love of her life would be far too much.

Seconds turned to minutes. And minutes felt like they were turning to hours.

Before long, Aemond let out a low hum and grabbed a piece of her modest gown with two of his fingers.

"I'll have a nightgown be made for you tomorrow." The Targaryen prince concluded, gingerly letting go of her sleeve.

Without another word, he turned his body stiffly, and walked towards the doors that separated her from the outside world. As they closed and clicked with the turning of a key, the girl let out a relieved sigh, and quickly glanced upon the floor.

"Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit, you Gods' damned fucking asshole." She hissed in utter resentment, snarling at the place the one eyed prince once stood.

At least the promise of the morrow could bring forth a better day.

If she ever wanted freedom, she had to make Aemond trust her. But that was easier said than done. And it would take time.

So far, he had taken her outside twice - both times, during nighttime. To not be seen by anyone, and to be able to walk with the Prince without being perturbed or interrupted by keen eyes and weary mouths.

They walked in silence: neither knowledgeable enough in the other to know what to converse about.

And as they made their third and final round of the garden, the girl took in a deep breath, and whisked her skirts gently to one side.

Aemond, like all the other nights before that, escorted her himself back to her secluded chambers, but stopped abruptly at her door.

"Where is your bretheren?" Aemond demanded to the knight assigned to watch over (Y/N) coldly.

His body stiffened momentarily, until a muffled voice could be heard past his helmet. "He went outside to take a piss." Sensing Aemond's stillness at his words, he added hurriedly, "Your Grace."

Unconvinced, yet unwilling to press the matter further, Aemond hummed, and opened the door, to allow the woman to step inside.

Like all the other nights before that, he stepped inside as well, to stare at her and later leave himself to rest in his own right.

(Y/N)'s hands were tightened in fists, and the woman strutted to her bed to play with the silk bedding.

"Thank you for bringing me here. You're... so very kind." She forced herself to say the words that left such a bitter taste in her parted mouth.

For a while, Aemond seemed stunned. He felt his jaw clench in anticipation for her next words. His eyes trailed over her, mesmerised by her tempting form, so meek and small and perfect.

Had she always been so beautiful?

"Hmm." He purrs from deep inside his throat, unable to form any other sentence. His lilac orb being glossed over with something akin to fear and lust - how could such a lowly girl spark such a consuming feeling within him?

The tightness inside his trousers becomes unbearable, and Aemond can feel his palms gripping over his thighs.

"Well..." (Y/N) finally turns to face him, biting her inner cheek. "G... Good night, Prince Aemond."

He takes in a sudden breath, and has to restrain everything inside him not to walk towards her and take her over the mattress.

But she was still a Lady. And he had to be patient. There will be more than enough time for that, he told himself pleasingly.

Still, his cock twitched into the confining space, and the girl had to stop herself from gagging at the sight.

Men were really just mindless beasts, after all. Yet she had to at least be thankful - she now knew for certain she wasn't indifferent to him. There were worse things to be working with than lust.

Lust was better than ire. Lust was better than... nothing.

"Good night, Lady (Y/N)." Aemond's groggy voice echoed through the empty room.

Seemingly satisfied with what he told her, the Targaryen Prince shot her body one last hungry gaze, before leaving to hold her under lock and key.

A minute, maybe two pass, until the girl's body can relax into the soft bed. Her eyes go over the ceiling, and she starts recounting her steps.

A sudden click of armour alerts her of what is going on outside - she shifts and turns, eyes fully on the door.

Had Aemond come to her again?

Dread seeped into her veins. Had he come to rape her? Use her? Or perhaps he grew tired of playing host, and was ready to kill her.

Not sparing another second, she swiftly jumped back on her feet, and reached for a candle holder, clasping it tightly within her hand.

Her breathing accelerated, until... the shining helmet of the knight outside greeted her tentatively, instead of the terrifying white hair she'd grown accustomed to.

"My Lady!" He breathed out, relieved, and hurriedly showed her his face.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and hot drops of tears suddenly threatened to escape them.

"Ser... Ser Cain? Is that really you?"

"Aye, my Lady, in the flesh." He remarked happily, closing the door, before (Y/N) surprised him by running towards her sworn protector, with an embrace that could shatter stone.

"I thought you dead after the battle at Tumbletown...!" She hushed into his chest, swaying him from side to side.

"It should take them more than usurping bastards to kill me!" Cain Waters assured her. His body pulled away from hers, and he spoke back in a more serious tone. "I'm here on order of your father. I'll take you to a safe place. But we must leave now."

"How...?" The girl questioned hopelessly, "The Kinslayer is ruthless, and he keeps a close watch on every corner of the keep at all times."

"Not all the time." Cain offered her a reassuring squeeze, smirking slightly. "I have reason to believe he's occupied in his chambers right now."

His attitude turns somber, and he reveals a hood tucked in his breastplate. "Wear this, my Lady. I'll keep guard outside until you're ready - but be quick about it. We'll have plenty of time to talk after we're out of this horrid place."

(Y/N) didn't need to be told that twice - she made great haste dressing up, and, before she could realise it, she was running down the stairs with her heart hammering out of her chest.

She felt as though she was in a trance. Ser Cain knew the castle like the back of his hand - no doubt, her father had been planning her escape for a very long time -, and, by the will of the Gods, the two traveled unspotted to the burnt forest behind the Gates of Harrenhall.

"Our horses are tied here." Cain huffed at the heaviness of his armour. "My Lady, give me your hand."

He mounted the woman on a tiny black horse, and secured her belts in place. He then turned to his own mare, and ensured to tie their bridles together. Before long, both horses broke into a dizzying gallop.

Thus (Y/N) Tully and Cain Waters managed to get lost into the night, right from under Aemond's nose.

The rays of sunlight shone over Aemond's bare form, still entangled with the one of Alys Rivers.

His limbs felt heavy - though none of match to the uneasiness he felt in his heart.

Wordlessly, he peeled himself off the warm body that laid next to him, and dressed up to pay his cherished captive a morning visit.

His dull footsteps bounced in the echo of the war keep, as Aemond's marching came to an abrupt end.

Nothing looked out of the ordinary.

Nothing, save to say for the unguarded door to the girl's chamber.

His blood ran cold, and his hand jerked open the entry to her resting place, only to find it... empty.

There is a scream from deep within that forces it's way from out of his chest. An anger so blinding, that it threatened to burn and extinguish any and all who would dare come his way.

Anger isn't a good look an anyone. But on Aemond One Eye, it looked downright terrifying.

A punch is thrown on the nearest wall to his trembling form. Then another. And another. And another.

Vhagar's mighty roar all but breaks the sky in two - and those who lived to tell the tale swore it echoed throughout all the Seven Kingdoms.

An exaggeration, no doubt, though not the most far fetched one in their bloody story.

The tearing skin of his knuckles lets a numbing feeling wash over Aemond. With his eyes upon the rattled fields, he lets out a low chuckle.

"I'll find her. I'll find her if I have to burn down all of the Riverlands."

They say that everytime a Targaryen is born, the Gods flip a coin.

[msfantasy]

Betrothed to a Gaunt

Ending

Summary: MC is betrothed to Ominis Gaunt.

Ominis and Y/n's Wedding Day

The Ominis x Reader

The final year was one of the most challenging years of your life.

You sat at Uncle Archies side, holding his hand. A tear rolls down his face questioning if he made the wrong decision. Had he ruined your life before it barely began? Has he subjected you to a life of unhappiness by promising your hand to Ominis Gaunt? Regret fills his eyes, in his final moments. Determined not to let Uncle Archie die a regrettable death, you continued to whisper reassurances as Ominis sits on a wooden chair behind you, stroking your back to remind you he is there.

"No Uncle Archie, you did nothing wrong. I haven't had the chance to tell you but Ominis and I have fallen for each other." The lies roll of your tongue effortlessly, dripping in a convincing tone. Uncle Archie sucks in air, relief filling his soul. "If it weren't for you, I never would have opened my heart to Ominis. I am incredibly grateful for all you have done for me, because of you I have gone every day of my life being loved as a daughter, and because of you, I will continued to be loved as a wife, and one day as a mother. Because of you, I will continue to experience life's greatest mystery." You announce pressing a kiss to Archies hand, tears rolling down both of your faces. A long fated smile draws on Archies face, the kind of smile you haven't seen in years due to his illness.

"My darling girl, I am so grateful for the happiness you unknowingly brought into my life." Achie sucks in air desperately trying to finish his sentence. "Though I have never had my own children, you will always be my darling daughter - thank you for everything." He smiles with his last breath. Uncle Archies eyes closed with his final classic smile etched deeply into his face.

You relent a yearning cry as you collapse onto the floor, loosing the most important man in your life. Ominis without a second thought kneels on the ground with you, holding your sobbing forms as screams of pain ring from your throat until the air is ripped from your lungs leaving no sounds.

To add to the worst year of your life, a long-term pining romance squashed before it even began. The heart-break was immense, however, Imelda and Ominis was there to comfort you.

Ominis felt guilty over the whole ordeal, he stormed his house attempting to call of the engagement, only for you to calm him down and remind him that the deed has already been done, and that there was no going back, reminding him gently the romance you sacrificed and to not let it be in vain.

Sebastian remained distant from his two friends. You tried to reach out, only for Sebastian to respectfully request space from you.

You have all since graduated. Unable to rekindle your friendship with Sebastian, you had no choice but to let bygones be bygones. You dedicated all your free time to meticulously planing the wedding of your dreams. Even if it wasn't to the love of your life, you were going to enjoy the day with the sudden money you now had access to.

It was the night before your wedding and in a drunken haze, Ominis went stumbling to Feldcroft moaning his sobbing apologies for ruining his best friends chance at a happy life. Sebastian looked down pitifully at the broken and mournful Ominis Gaunt. A man who was always regal and refined, reduced to a sniffling mess at Sebastians feet.

Sebastian carried his old-mate to the near by bank with a couple of glasses to drink from, the two looked out over the water and had an honest heart to heart. A conversation that remains private between the two til this day. Whatever was discussed left Ominis sleeping on the ground with a soft smile pressed along his lips. Sebastian turns his gaze away from the sky looking towards Ominis, filled with solace at his sleeping figure.

Sebastian continued to wait patiently for you to respond to his owl, requesting for you to pick up your fiancé. It was only about an hour later that you had appeared before your jilted lover and your fiancé.

You gently roll Ominis over checking with great concern if he was injured. Stress ran through your blood when Ominis did not return back to the Gaunt mansion.

"Thank you Sebastian...." You say with grace. Gently easing Ominis into your arms. You smile awkwardly at Sebastian, whilst he returns your gaze undeterred.

"I will be attending the ceremony." He announces, which was of surprise to you. "I'll see you later." Sebastian stands, dusting off the blades of grass from his trousers. He retreats to his small cottage home leaving a very heavy and passed out Ominis to take care of.

Apperating into the Gaunt foyer you release Ominis on the marble floor with as much care as possible.

"Blimey brother, on your wedding day of all days." Marvolo snickers in amusement. Mrs. Gaunt flys through the foyer with an entourage to follow.

"Marvolo my dear, be a good boy and help your brother prepare for the ceremony. Chop, chop everyone! We only have 6 hours until the ceremony begins!" Mrs. Gaunt claps striding into the garden continuing to point out the set up required.

Exhausted from your sleepless night you retreat to the bathroom drawing a warm bath with salts and your favourite scents. You let yourself sink into the warmth as you review the crazy year that has passed, all the drama leading back to this very day.

Stepping out of the bath you sit before the dressing table in a slip, your make up was pressed on delicately leaving your make up flawless. Your hair placed expertly in the exact style selected. Your gown was freshly pressed and placed over your elegant form. You were a true sight to behold. Every woman would aspire to be the glowing bride that you have presented today.

You stand at the top of the steps anxiously looking out of the crowd. A sea of faces staring at you, you waver in your resolve only for Sebastian to grab your hand twisting it around his arm.

"There, there. We cannot have a bride running away now can we?" He says as he begins to guide you down the stairs.

"Where's Marvolo?" Sebastian scoffs at your question.

"Would you seriously rather him right now?" You nod in agreement.

"Fair point... I'm just surprised you're here." You announce gently looking over at Sebastian who has his gaze set towards the alter.

"I would never miss the wedding of my two best friends... besides... If your Uncle Archie were here, he'd slap me upside the head and tell me to be a gentleman... I know he would've spent the whole evening bragging about how beautiful his 'darling girl' is." A laugh sniffles from you, tears edging a long your waterline.

"He would've." You agree. Reaching the alter you turn to Sebastian whom lifts your veil kissing you on the cheek, you grab his sleeve again. Sadden by him leaving your side.

"It's okay... I promise I'll still be here. I won't act like a git again." You hug Sebastian firmly. Guilt escaping you. You felt like you were both back to your old selves.

You lay your eyes for the first time on Ominis. He looked handsome standing in his tailored suit. He holds his hand out waiting for you, reaching out your grasp his hand. The officiant stands before you announcing your union, you begin to whisper to each other.

"So Sebastian his here..." You say only for Ominis to smile once again.

"We had a good chat." He says, looking back to the officiant. "You know for someone who didn't want to marry me, you sure pulled together the most extravagant wedding of the century. My father just about cried at the invoice." You snort trying to imagine his fathers face. The officiant glares at the two, making the two silent before snickering again. The officiant declares a moment of silence of the crowd as the two are to whisper their vows, as the promise is only for each other to hear. Ominis leans in first.

"Y/n, I vow to continue to fiercely love you if not as a husband, than as a friend from now and forever. I promise to never forget this bond we share. I vow in the deepest part of my soul that no matter what challenges might carry us apart, we will always find our way together." A smile erupts from you as you lean in whispering your own vows.

"I have laughed with you, cried with you, cared for you and shared a part of my life with you. I get to build a home with you, and live in a home with my best friend. I get to spend the rest of my life with you, and that is a privilege I'm honoured to experience. Thank you Ominis, for being there for me in my weakest moments, and sharing with my my greatest moments. I vow to be there for you, as you have always been for me." You say, Ominis stiffens under the sincerity of your words.

The unbreakable vow glows softly as the officiant calls for a final kiss to seal the deal.

Leaning in you press your lips to Ominis's for the first time. Your lips smooth and melt together in perfect unison, a buzz runs through your mouth at the electrical feeling. Ominis is the first to depart from your amalgamation leaving you wanting more.

The crowd cheers at the end of ceremony, Ominis steps back reaching his hand out to you.

The night continued on, the food selection was delightful. People stuffed their glutinous bellies with the finest meal they've ever had. The cake was cut and eaten, the champagne was pouring from end to end. The first dance was dream with all eyes watching the two forms gliding across the floor carelessly.

The dance concluded as Sebastian strides towards the newly weds. "May I have this dance?" Sebastian asks as Ominis steps to the side and leaves to retrieve some refreshments.

"I have't had the chance to tell you how stunning you look." Sebastian whispers to you. "I'm sorry for acting out like a child and not being there for you when you needed support most." He says gesturing to the passing of Archie. "I hope you can forgive me, and have me back as a friend." He asks in a broken whisper, terrified of your answer.

"I would love nothing more than to have you back in my life." You answer honestly. Sebastian sighs, grateful for your readiness to forgive.

The wedding party continued to rage on through out the night, however, the newly weds bid their adues. Now you were being taken by carriage to your new home gifted by non-other than your husband. It was a quaint little home with a glass portion of the house that appeared to be a reading nook.

Your feet thump along the floorboards as you run wild through your new home giggling at the beauty and the aesthetics of the home, it's all yours. Everything you had always wanted and Ominis is the one who made it all happen.

You turn back looking at the smiling man, bemused by your childish excitement. You jump into his arms, pushing him back into the cushy couch behind him.

"I love it! I love it! I love it!" You yell with a Ominis laughing under your surprise attack. You sink into his chest, his laugh slowly dying off. "And, I love you." You whispered. He smiled a friendly grin.

"I love you too." He says back kindly, you only shook your head.

"No - not like that." You announce pressing your lips to his once again. You brush your tongue against his lips begging to enter his mouth.

Ominis pulls away from your intoxicating mouth. "Wait-what about Sebastian?" He questions, you roll your eyes.

"My feelings for him long left the day he gave up. Besides was it not you who remained at my side for all of my highs an lows? You've proven yourself to me time and time again Ominis. I want to be with you, you are my husband after all." Giggles erupt from both of you.

"Misses Y/n Gaunt." He says tucking stands of hair behind your ear. "I don't remember when was the exact moment my feelings for you bloomed. But one of my fondest memories was when you went to a large wildflower field and you gave me a jar full of dried flowers to smell what it was like." Your laughter echos through the rooms.

"We were like 7!" He nodded.

"That's as far back as I can remember." You look at Ominis with great adoration. "Now I'm married to the love of my life..." He whispers pulling you into a long kiss.

----

A/n: 1 more parts to come. Your wedding night *wink wink

Also I wrote this all in one sitting and I don't feel like editing so ...

Tags: @nightlightings @abbiesxox