#Series over until they bring her back. Thanks for sticking through it!!

[crimescrimson]

The Good Deeds Of Ada Wong: Saving Lives

| Ada Destroys Carla's Work |

[juletheghoul]

educational

a/n: I still have so many asks for this man, and I have not forgotten them! Thank you to everyone who voted, to everyone who takes the time to comment and reblog on my posts. You have no idea how you all have reinvigorated my love for writing, a million hugs and cuddles for all of you. I always welcome any and all comments and questions or deep dives! This isn't beta'd, barely proofread. Hope you enjoy 💕xo

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.3k

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series masterlist

The sun was oppressive. It beat down with a vengeance and the fan in your hand did nothing to alleviate the waves of heat permeating the market. You had half a mind to head right back to the villa, to ask Marcus to bring you on another day when you could focus on anything other than the drops of sweat sliding down your spine, making your new robes stick to your skin. Or the way the stiff leather sandals on your feet rubbed your ankles raw. 

Running back to the villa didn’t seem right however, it tasted too much of defeat, of a refusal to accept your new place in this world and the thought of your General, your husband being disappointed in your inability to shop for yourself put eels into your belly. Gritting your teeth, you continued your hunt for the things you needed. 

“What about this Domina?” Your new attendant, a girl a few years younger than you had been when you’d first joined his house pointed at a blessedly covered stall, golden trinkets glittering where the sun poked through gaps in the covering catching your eye. 

“Let us look.” You smiled, making your way over. There you found a lovely perfumed oil for your skin, at a fairly reasonable price. You also found some of the incense Marcus liked, and a new brush for his hair. You bought them, even though he had sent you with the intent to buy things for yourself. With your purchases made and in the hands of your guards you decided to finally return home, when another stall caught your eye. Gauzy sheer linens covered most of it but when the warm breeze blew them aside, glittering jewels flashed. 

The woman running the stall smiled when you entered, she had streaks of grey in her hair, lovely oiled skin and eyes as dark as night. 

Opals with fire caught inside them hung on golden racks, rubies the size of walnuts, emeralds as green as fresh laurel leaves glittered, all of them entrancing you enough to pull your hands out to touch them. 

“With your skin, those would look lovely.” She walked over, pulling dark blue sapphire earrings from their place on her wall and holding them to your ears. “Beautiful.”

“They are gorgeous, I must admit.” Marcus had told you to buy whatever you wanted, had given you enough coin to splurge but you hesitated. Your eyes fell to a small book on a shelf, a picture of a man and a woman on the cover. 

“That is… very educational. Especially for a married woman.” She pulled the book off the shelf, placing it into your hands for you to peruse. The contents made you gasp. It was a guide book, a guide for the art of love. The art of copulation. There were diagrams, positions to try, all manner of things you’d never even thought of. 

Heat rushed to your face, the thought of showing Marcus, of trying them with him made the heat grow and spread to the place between your thighs. 

“You must have it, I have no doubt your husband will enjoy it, you as well.” She winked and you laughed a nervous little laugh, nodding conspiratorially. 

“You should adorn yourself for him, something glittering, something precious.” She gestured to the jewels once more and you bit your lip, wondering what to choose until you saw what looked to be a belt of different coloured gems. 

“I like this–is it for my waist?” You slid your fingers across it. 

“That would be perfect, not just your waist my lady.” She undid the clasps and arranged it, draping it onto your body. “Usually the ladies wear them over a simple robe to elevate it, but I think it would look just as beautiful against the skin, if you take my meaning.” You could see it, the top part of it like a necklace, with a long line of gems between your breasts leading down to connect with another line of it like a belt. 

With an ache for him, and a considerably lighter purse, you left with your purchases and made your way home once more. 

-

He was occupied, held up in his study with representatives from the Emperor, a senator and a whole host of others taking up his time with important matters. You left him to it, and busied yourself with your own preparations.

The tub was steaming and fragrant when you submerged yourself. Dried flowers and sweet smelling oils swirling with every movement, all manner of different elements coming together to soften your skin and make you shine for him. Thoughts of what he would think of your book fill your mind as you cleanse yourself of the day, musings about what he might choose pull at the corners of your lips as you run the clean washcloth across the expanse of your chest and thighs.

You oil your skin once out of the tub, arrange your hair and adorn yourself with jewels. Golden bracelets and anklets he’d gifted you on your wedding night, an armband shaped like a snake, earrings that dangle and trap the light when you move, the special body chain from the stand. You feel like a goddess, like a priestess readying yourself for worship. 

By the time he comes to bed the need, the arousal is fierce enough to make your hands shake. 

“Apologies my love, I was hoping to have been done sooner but—“ he catches sight of you then, sprawled out on the bed, an airy robe leaving nothing to the imagination, the small book in your hands. His eyes devour you, robbing him of his words, making your heart race.

“I have something for you, something for us.” You rise, exaggerating the swing in your hips with every step you take towards him. Your adornments jingle, a pleasant sound rings with every stride. 

“Do you now?” He licks his lips, and presses his palm to his growing bulge at the sight of you. “I have something for you too, growing stiff and aching.” His hand reaches for you as you get closer, pulling you into his embrace. 

“I do not doubt that.” You laugh, pressing your palms to his chest to keep him from pushing you onto your bed.

“I would very much like to give it to you, nice and deep.” His eyes are so lust blown that the warm brown is now a cold black. A moan escapes at his words, at the feel of his kiss on your throat.

“First, I would like you to look through the book I bought today.” He frowns, confused at the apparent shift. “I believe it could be very educational for us.”

If you weren’t so aroused, so excited to experiment you might have laughed at his expression. Naked shock was all you could see on his face. Never, in all your years within the villa, within his presence had you ever rendered him speechless before. The effect is titillating.

Wordlessly he peruses the pages, cheeks flushing, attention rapt at the diagrams and instructions shown within.

“Gods above.” Your smile deepens at the low whisper of his voice, nerves fraying with anticipation. 

“I am particularly curious about this one.” With trembling hands, you flip the pages to a certain diagram, where the woman is sitting on the man's lap but facing away, her legs closed tightly between his legs underneath her. The thought of Marcus having you that way floods your body with heat. His mouth at your ear, his hands free to slip between your legs or hold onto the weight of your breasts. 

Silently he studies the book, eyes intent. His quiet intensity fills the air between you, it makes you wring your hands with nervous anticipation, almost makes you wonder if you’ve gone too far. Your nerves fray the longer he stares, the old fear of disappointing or upsetting him creeps up your spine, until he smiles and licks his lip. 

“You, my love, continue to surprise me.” He closes the book and sets it aside. 

“Do I?” You take his hand in yours, and press it to your lips, desperate for his approval and for his love.

“Oh yes. Just when I think I cannot be any more fortunate, you spoil me and show me another facet of your love.” He pulls you forward, guiding you to stand between his spread legs at the edge of your bed, pulling the robe off to expose your nakedness.

“Look at you.” His palms slide from the sides of your thighs past your hips where they touch the jewels that adorn your waist. Up, up, up until his thumbs flick at your nipples. 

“You are yourself, my most precious jewel. So beautiful–” He presses his face to your breast, his lips gliding across your skin between words, “-kind, adventurous and brave, sweet as summer fruit,” he skims his nose over the top of your breast before licking at the stiff peak. With a sigh you hold him close, fingernails scratching at his neck, slipping through the fine grey waves, cradling his head close. 

Your heart races as he pours his love onto you, any and all fears are quieted to nothing under the silky slip of his palms against your back. His mouth forms a tight seal around your nipple, enough that it makes you gasp. His smile is predatory, confident and it makes you laugh; half nervous, half exhilarated. 

Your breasts shine with the oil, and his spit when he lets go. You take the opportunity to pull his robes up and off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his manhood, hard and leaking for you. 

“Turn around.” His voice sends a shiver down your spine, deep and commanding, irrefutable. His lips press to your shoulder, moving down to your lower back, you squeal in shock and delight to feel his teeth on the meat of your ass. 

“I could devour you whole, do you know that?” You can hear the smile in his voice.

The arousal is enough to choke you, enough to ease the glide of himself against your sex. Butterflies swarm as he pulls you back, guiding his own weeping tip to the tight fist of your cunt until you sink, slowly onto him. You gasp at just how deep, just how full you feel like this. 

“Gods above, woman.” His grip on your hips is tight enough to bruise, his voice strangled in your ear.

It is so much better than you had imagined.

His thighs bracket yours as you adjust to the fullness, slick dribbles out of you and drenches his lap when his hands do exactly as you hoped they might. With deft fingers he pinches and pulls at your sensitive nipples, teasing the peaks mercilessly as you begin a tentative bounce on his lap.

“Is this how you wanted it?” His breath tickles your neck, painting your skin in gooseflesh. 

“Yes, yes Marcus, just like this-“ your head falls back onto his shoulder, the arousal so fierce it burns through you, sets your heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird, trapped in the cage of your ribs. 

“Take it, take your pleasure from me my love, ride this cock—“ he bucks up, pulling a pained moan from somewhere inside you. 

“That’s it, you can do it, milk my fucking cock.” His arm tightens around your middle and you can feel the jewels pinching at your skin, the edge of pain only heightens the pleasure coursing through your veins, ripping a swathe through your body in the shape of him, always him. 

Thick fingers force their way between the tight press of your thighs, pinching at your swollen clit and it’s almost too much. Sweat beads in your hairline, slips between your bodies as you roll your hips harder, clenching around him with every tight bounce. 

There are no more words, only the harsh pant of his breath in your ear, the slick, vulgar sound of your wet arousal; the whimpering heralding your climax. 

His fingers leave your clit and you whine, the demand for them to return on the tip of your tongue but he quells it, pressing those same fingers into your mouth. He takes the saliva from your mouth, and returns his fingers to their task. The slip is just right and with a silent scream you freeze, squeezing him tight enough for him to hiss, tight enough to do just as he wanted and milk him for all he’s worth.

His grip around your middle softens, the jewels have left indents in his skin as well as yours, you pull his arm up to press your lips to it. 

Once the blood has settled and you’ve caught your breath, you pull away from him, turning to settle in his lap again only this time facing him. 

His expression is pure bliss, flushed with exertion and smiling with the ghost of his climax still painting his features. 

“I must send you to the market more often, spoil you as you spoil me.” You laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck just as his wrap tightly around your waist.

“So you are pleased with my purchase then?” Your lips press to his mouth, his cheek, the little hairless spot on his chin, your favourite constellation to map out. 

“I am more than pleased with it, but I must study it in depth. So many things to try, so many lessons for us to learn from this book, hmm?” He skims his nose across the column of your throat, smiling into your skin as your heart races for him even with your pleasure still coursing through you. 

“…And you know that I am a quick learner, my love.”

-

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[heavyhitterheaux]

Wifey Shiesty (Slight NSFW)

See Me Through You Series

Synopsis: After giving her husband a much needed pep talk, we get Wifey's version of mic'd up during the Bengals vs. Broncos game

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: @mirrorballgirlie25 and an anon 💕

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The level of excitement that you had when you woke up around eleven in the morning was unmatched as you sat up against the headboard for confirmation.

One of the few days that you didn't have any morning sickness.

It was evident that Joe was already awake seeing as he wasn't lying next to you and could faintly hear the shower running in the bathroom signaling that he was getting ready to head to Paycor to take on the Denver Broncos.

There was a lot riding on this game, but you had done your usual routine with making his favorite foods and giving him pep talks. Joe's bag that he would be carrying when he left was sitting on the bed and you quickly pulled out your stationary set and wrote a small note to stick in there.

You got this, Shiesty.

I love you,

Wifey

You did this before every game whether it was at home or away and Joe kept every single one and had it organized by season.

You would usually also get up early and go into the bathroom and also write notes for him on the mirror so that way he would also wake up and see them.

When you were finished, you closed his bag and was caught off guard by arms wrapping around you and a kiss being placed on your cheek.

“Good morning Mr. Shiesty.” You told him as you turned around to properly hug him.

“Good morning baby girl. No morning sickness? Did my baby actually get to sleep? I didn't hear you get up at all.”

“I actually slept for once so hopefully I'll have energy for the game.” You replied as he then leaned down to kiss you.

Joe let out a deep sigh and you immediately knew what to do.

“Okay, baby. We got this. I know how important this game is and that we want to make the playoffs, but just get through each quarter and take your time. Either way it goes today, I am so fucking proud of you. This has truly been your best season and you keep silencing the people who hate on you every single time. Like breaking records and breaking some of your own too? You were drafted number one for a reason. Now go out there today and show them why. I love you and as promised I will be in your suite cheering you on.”

The smile that broke out on Joe’s face was huge as he leaned down to kiss you once more in response.

“I just… it’s so much pressure on my shoulders. But at the same time it is what it is.”

“Baby, you’re the quarterback if you didn’t realize it until just now.” You joked with him and he let out a small laugh.

“I hadn’t noticed and I love you too. Thank you for the pep talks that you always give me. It may not seem like a big deal, but it is.”

“Of course, my love. Always going to be in your corner rooting for you.”

“And the same goes for you, it’s just in a different way now.” Joe replied as he glanced down at your leg and saw the surgical scars staring back at him as he lightly ran his fingers over them.

He couldn't think about it for too long since it would make him upset, but every day, he woke up grateful that you were still here able to do life with him. He couldn't have imagined what happened if you weren't. Becoming a widow a few months after you get married was something that was constantly running through his thoughts when you had gotten hurt.

The pain was still evident even if you didn't talk about it much, not wanting to make your husband worry. He did enough of that when he thought he would be planning your funeral.

Being pregnant, the only thing that you were able to take for pain was tylenol and some days that just wasn’t cutting it. But the last thing you were about to do was risk the health of your twins.

“Is it bothering you today?”

“So far, so good.”

“Just remember to bring some medicine with you. Don't want you sitting there in pain.”

“I'll put some in my bag, promise.”

“Good, pack some heat packs too just in case.”

“Oh, and I have a little surprise. Ja’Marr actually came up with it so you can thank him for it.”

“And what’s that?” Joe asked as he was starting to get dressed.

“I’m going to be mic’d up during the game for me and Taylor’s podcast so do your best to not give your wife a panic attack or send her into labor because it is way too early.”

Joe threw his head back in laughter because he knew how you would get during the games.

“I’ll try my best, but no promises. I can’t wait to watch it later.”

“But for now, I'll go make you some food while you get ready.”

“No need, baby. I got up early and ate.” Joe told you and in response you made a face at him.

“Baby doll, your morning sickness has been horrible lately. I wanted you to sleep. I have the ability to make myself something to eat and not burn down the kitchen in the process. Give me credit where credit is due.”

“But I ALWAYS make you food on game days when you play at home and sometimes you have dessert and eat me out before you leave. It's our thing!”

“I know, but you can make us something later when we win and I can eat you out later. That can definitely be arranged.”

“Fine, I'm holding you to that.”

“Good, now give me kisses.” Joe told you as he was now sitting down on the bed and pulled you onto his lap.

You gave him a few kisses before kissing the side of his mouth and laying your head on his shoulder.

“You're lucky you just took a shower and need to get ready because I want to bite you so bad right now.”

“AHT AHT! Baby do not start, as much as I want to, I can't rearrange your guts all day.”

“But you can do it all night.” You replied while smirking as you picked your head up to look at him.

“See? This is why you're pregnant now.”

“Don't blame it on me, you had something to do with it too.” You scolded him as he kissed the tip of your nose.

Suddenly Joe’s phone went off and he turned around to grab it and saw it was Ja'Marr calling and quickly answered.

“Stop swapping spit with my sister and let's go.”

“Damn, good morning to you too uno.” Joe replied as he rolled his eyes.

“And how do you even know what I was doing?” Joe asked and even though he couldn't see him, he knew that he was rolling his eyes.

“Joe, don't piss me off before we even get in the locker room on this nice Saturday. Yall can’t keep your hands to yourself for thirty seconds. I'll be at your front door in 15 minutes. Bye.”

After Joe hung up all he did was toss his phone to the side before kissing you once more.

“See you at 4:30?”

“See you at 4:30.”

—

Arriving at Paycor, security quickly escorted you as well as Erin to Joe's suite where you would meet up with Jim and Robin. Robin had already sent a text letting you know that they had just gotten there and the only thing on your mind was food and watching Joe and your baby brother play.

The entire episode of you being mic'd up would be recorded on your phone and you would upload it after the game was over whether the Bengals walked away with a win or not.

Once you had gotten settled and got everything set up how you wanted it, you set your phone to record.

“Hello my Woman Cave listeners. Wifey Shiesty here and you’re in for a little treat today. As you can see, I'm in my husband's suite at the game with my in-laws, and my best friend Erin and you guys are getting my version of mic'd up! I did tell Joe prior to him leaving the house this morning and I told him to do his best not to give me a panic attack, so let's see how this goes.”

First quarter

“Okay, yall have to do better than this if we want a playoff spot. Because what are we even doing right now?”

–

“Did you really just get sacked twice in a row?! O-line protect my husband, please! It is LITERALLY YOUR JOB.”

–

“Uh oh baby brother is making faces. He's getting annoyed. I am too Bam Bam, I am too.”

–

“WHAT!? The first quarter can't be over already. We have literally done nothing.”

–

Second quarter

“Baby! What are….? I gave you a pep talk this morning and this is NOT how this was supposed to go.”

–

“The babies are hungry again. Erin, can you get me more mozzarella sticks? Cheese has been my main food group since I got pregnant.”

–

“AHHH TOUCHDOWN! YEAH TEE! I guess he didn't want his mom cussing him out again. She really let him have it.”

–

“Okay, we got something going, feeling a little better. Oh, are those buffalo wings? I needed those like 6 hours ago. I don't care about the heartburn that I'm about to have after. The babies are getting some spice today. I have tums in my purse.”

–

Third quarter

“And, we're back. The babies were playing kickball with my bladder. I'm definitely going to drink this lemonade though.”

–

“Ehh, okay we're kicking. Fine, that'll get us ten.”

–

“NO! HE CAUGHT IT! NOW IT'S TIED.”

–

“Okay, we still have time. We got this. Can I have a milkshake delivered to the stadium? I want one. Never mind. Joe will get me one on the way home.”

–

“Erin, did you see Joe’s and Ja'marr's outfits today? Like WHO ARE THESE DIVAS? But I picked out Joey's last night. I wanted to bite him before he left, but he told me no.”

–

Fourth quarter

“Tee again with the touchdown!”

–

“Damn it! It's tied again. I literally told Joe NOT to give me a panic attack or make my water break and it's clear and evident that he in fact did not listen.”

–

“Oh! Is he in!? IS HE IN!? My husband is the shit yall. Get it baby! TOUCHDOWN!”

–

“Wait a minute… is he…? Is he doing the griddy? See that's the black wife effect for you. And of course Ja'Marr co-signed it. He got more rhythm when he married me.”

–

“Okay, clock is winding down. We can do this. Not that much longer to go.”

–

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!? Oops, babies don't repeat that. It's tied again!”

–

“Overtime it is. I need to pee again and I'm hungry. These children need to chill out with the food requests.”

–

Overtime

“Okay dad got me nachos. I'm okay now, we're back in business. Shoutout to Paycor. Yall have the good cheese.”

–

“I can't watch anymore and need to close my eyes.”

–

“Well that lasted for a total of thirty seconds.”

–

“OH! OKAY HE’S AT THE TWO! TEE'S AT THE TWO! Yall better not fuck this up.”

–

“HE GOT IT!”

–

“I'm happy we won, but I need to sit here for a minute before I go to the tunnel. Bottom line is put some respect on my husband's name. As of now he is literally the only person in the history of the NFL to have 250 pass yards but 3 pass touchdowns in 8 straight games. So unless you can do that, don't talk to me. And, I rest my case. Now it's time for my milkshake and to hug my husband and baby brother.”

When Joe spotted you in the tunnel, he was all smiles and quickly made his way over to you as he leaned down to kiss you.

“Proud of you, babe.” You told him as you reached up to pinch his cheek.

“Your pep talk definitely helped this morning. Just took us a minute to find our rhythm.” Joe replied as he started to play with the ends of your hair, something that he did more often than not.

“Speaking of rhythm, that griddy was too clean. You should have heard me and Erin yelling.” You told him and he couldn't help but to laugh.

“It's the black wife effect. Can't be around you and your family all the time and walk away with nothing.” He casually said as he shrugged and you busted out laughing.

“And just wait until you hear my mic'd up episode.”

“Please tell me you're kept it somewhat appropriate. I never know with you.”

“Well, babe, I didn't say anything about me turning you every way but loose once we leave here if that's what you mean.” You sweetly said while batting your eyelashes at him.

“I… I guess I'll take it then.”

“BIG SIS!” You heard Ja'Marr yell and quickly yelled back at him as he was running towards you.

“LIL BRO!”

Ja'Marr promptly picked you up and hugged you before setting your back down on your feet.

“You see your husband's griddy?” He asked and Joe simply smirked at the both of you.

“He just told me that it's the black wife effect.”

“I have to agree, this man has a grill now, seasons his food, still holding onto the pumpkin pie, but I'll let it slide today. Maybe one day he'll accept that it honestly tastes like sweet potato pie with low self-esteem.” He replied and you couldn't help but laugh.

“Bye Ja'Marr!”

“What!? Did I lie!?”

“No, but I need a milkshake babe. Go do your presser so I can get one on the way home.”

“I need another kiss before I do.” He told you as Ja'Marr made a gagging noise.

“Yall make me sick.”

“Then look away.” Joe told him as he leaned down to kiss you.

“You would think that it's been forty days and forty nights since the two of you saw each other last.”

“And we're ignoring you.”

–

“Fuck! That's it, pretty girl.” Joe whispered in your ear as he had wrapped his arms around you as you continued to ride him.

The ride home honestly felt like torture with you both trying to keep your hands off one another and forget the bedroom. The two of you barely made it through the front door as clothes were thrown off and left in a pile as you were now on the couch riding him.

The two of you learned pretty quickly that ever since you had gotten pregnant and you were now obviously showing since there wasn't just one in there, but two, the most comfortable positions for you were either riding him or laying down on your side and Joe was not complaining in the slightest.

However Joe was then abruptly confused when you had suddenly stopped and proceeded to swing your legs off of him and his protests were quickly heard.

“Babe, I was close. What the hell?” He asked as you had now spread his legs to make room and got down on your knees in front of him.

“Then how about you shut up and stop complaining? I got down here so you could face fuck me, but I will gladly get back up.”

“You're going to regret getting smart with me before the night is over.”

“Mm hmm, sure Burrow.” You responded as you rolled your eyes. You had done that on purpose because the adrenaline from winning the game mixed with him getting annoyed by your smart mouth would lead to him not showing you any mercy and that was exactly what you wanted.

Doing as he was told, Joe moved closer to the end of the couch as you took him in your mouth. Your hair kept ending up getting in the way, and he decided to help you as he put it into a makeshift ponytail which also led to him being able to have a better hold on you as he sped up his pace of him moving in and out of your mouth.

“You're doing such a good job, princess.”

A mix of sweat, tears, and drool was running down your face as he kept hitting the back of your throat. Your jaw was definitely sore, but you weren't quitting any time soon and was determined to see it all the way through until Joe got his release.

Being able to finally come up for air, Joe moved your head all the way back making you lose contact with him when he leaned forward to kiss you before sliding back into your mouth.

“Come on, baby. You gonna make me cum?” Joe asked as he finally released his hold on you.

Once he did, between the use of your mouth along with your hand it was only a matter of time.

You felt the first drop hit the back of your throat and was soon followed by a string of curse words from his mouth as you were trying to swallow the full load.

“You better swallow it. The entire thing.” He told you as he lightly tapped your cheek. It took you a minute but once you did, you also ran your finger along your cheek and chin to get what had dribbled out and sucked on your fingers.

“Good girl.”

Joe then picked you back up to sit in his lap and kissed you before turning to the side and laying down while taking you by your hips to move you up so you would be right above his face.

“I promised to eat you out, didn't I?” Joe asked you as he kissed all along your thighs.

“Yes.”

“Now stay still.”

--

Liked by joeyb_9, thewomancave, taylorrooks, lahjay10_, cincinattibengals, and 867,254 others

wifeyshiesty: the black wife effect lol now put some respect on my baby's name! so proud of you pookie!

My mic'd up episode will be released at midnight!

lahjay10_: I taught him that at the cookout. they grow up so fast. taylorrooks: I can't wait to hear the episode and talk about it! erinthegymnast: when he hit that griddy, me and wifey screamed so loud we're surprised they didn't hear us out on the field joeybfanatic: OMG not wifey being mic'd up lmao I absolutely love her on the woman cave so I'm excited for the unhinged shit that I know she's about to say joeyb_9: she's been unhinged since I met her, but I wouldn't have it any other way lahjay10_: joeyb_9 bruh I warned your ass and you still married her wifeyshiesty: lahjay10_ I know where you live (3 houses down) so get yourself together before I bust through your front door lahjay10_: wifeyshiesty if you can reach the handle to get in joeyb_9: pause, let me grab a snack to watch this go down joeburrowupdates: lmaooo not joe wanting his wife to beat her little brother's ass lahjay10_: she's all talk, she won't do anything joeyb_9: uh ja'marr she just put on her slides and grabbed her keys, I would make a run for it if I were you 👀

[not-neverland06]

How About a Nuke?

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V

The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: I just want to thank you all for the love, support, and wonderful messages you’ve been sending me because of this series. Summary: You’ll never survive if you don’t learn to depend on yourself. But this world is harsher and crueler than you’re prepared for. Still, you can’t let that hold you back, you need to try and live without Cooper.

He shot up at the sound of a gunshot. It echoed through the trees, closer than he was comfortable with. Instinctively, he reached out to shake her awake, prepared to tell her to grab her shit and run. His hand hit nothing but air and he sighed when he remembered the way she’d stalked off. 

He threw his bag over his shoulder and made his way towards her. He couldn’t see much until he rounded the tree, her bag was gone and so was she. Another shot rang out through the forest. He sighed and made his way back towards the fire. He grabbed a lit stick and used it to illuminate the forest floor to get a better look at the footprints around the area. 

As far as he could tell no one else had passed through here while he’d been sleeping. So where the fuck was she? Another shot went off followed by the sound of her scream. “Fuck,” he ripped the gun out of his holster and followed the tracks as best he could. 

The closer he got, the more it sounded like two wild animals fighting. She was cussing up a storm, screaming at whoever was trying to grab her. He still hadn’t managed to get a good luck at where she was. It seemed darker in this section of the forest, like it was purposefully trying to keep him from her. 

There was the thud of a body hitting the ground and then someone was running. He could hear them trampling through the undergrowth going right past him. Someone was whimpering in pain and he instantly thought of her on the ground bleeding out. Without much aim he shot in the general direction of whoever had run off, he heard a yelp but they didn’t stop. 

“You alright sweetheart?” He heard more than saw anything as she scrambled to her feet and ran off into the forest. “It’s only me!” He gave her a minute to realize she’d run from the wrong person before he figured that she knew exactly who she was running from. She must have still been pissed at him for what he'd said earlier. Rolling his eyes he tracked her limping gait through the steps in the mud. 

“Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck,” you whimpered, teeth digging painfully into your lip while you peeled your clothes away from the wound on your side. You slowed down, unable to stay on your feet with how quickly the blood was oozing out of the hole near your ribs. You slumped over, letting yourself fall against a tree and stripped off the top half of your clothes. 

Your fingers pressed weakly against the hole and you let out a choked sob. Dammit, hurt like a fucking bitch. With shaking hands you dug blindly through the bag at your side. You’d lost most of your supplies in the fight but you were hoping the stimpak Cooper had given you earlier was still in here. 

You weren’t sure exactly how these worked but he’d told you it would heal nearly everything. Though, he’d said if a wound was bad enough even a stimpak couldn’t bring you back from the edge. You were praying that this would work, but after the past few days you didn’t have much faith in your luck.

The injector shook in your hands and you knew if you didn’t use it soon you weren’t going to make it. Taking in a deep breath you slid the needle into the skin, as close to the wound as you could get it. You could feel holes on your back and front, you were grateful at least that you didn’t have to worry about trying to dig a bullet out. 

You pressed down and let yourself sink back against the tree as medicine rushed through you. You ripped the injector once it felt like you’d gotten everything. 

With nothing to occupy them your hands fell limply to the ground. You needed to get up, try and reorient yourself and make it to Filly. But you were so tired. You barely noticed the way the wound continued to pulse, the slow dribble of blood leaking onto your hands. All you could see were the stars, so many more than you were used to. 

With no one left to pollute them, they were boundless. You let out a weak sigh and your eyes drifted shut. You thought of Cooper before it all went black. The way he was before, the way you were before. 

It was too dark to really track much but he was sure he was getting close. He could hear her whimpering in pain and figured she’d slow down soon enough. She shuffled around like a wounded animal, graceless and stumbling. 

He tried and justified this to himself, he needed her to deal with Ma June. Honestly, though, he knew he didn’t. He could just give up, set up camp again and wait for morning to come. She’s the one who decided she didn’t need him anymore. No fucking reason to keep going after her. She’d dug her own grave, it was time to let her lie in it. 

Still, he kept going. He ignored the nagging voice that pushed him to stop and turn back around. He pushed anything down that wasn’t useful in the moment. 

She should stop soon, she was just putting herself in more danger by continuing on like this. But, he figured she was pissed off and just didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of needing his help. She had always been stubborn to a fault, he guesses even that hasn’t changed. 

Though, if she wanted to make it out here she was going to need tougher skin. It didn’t matter if what he said was true or not. You can’t afford attachments out here.

The sooner she learned that the better. 

There was a loud cry of pain and then he heard the sound of her keeling over against a tree. He grinned, ready to pounce on the opportunity to get on her about being so fucking stupid. “See, this is why you shouldn’t run!” He called out. 

Something lit up the path ahead and he ducked behind a tree instinctively. He peered around the trunk and marked the direction the torches were coming from. They weren’t close enough to be a problem, not yet at least. If he was lucky it would just be some travelers. He might even be able to get some supplies off of them. If he wasn’t, it would be raiders. 

Seeing as she seemed to be his own personal jinx, he figured they only had a few minutes until the raiders were on them. She wouldn’t be much use to him bleeding out. He strode over to her curled up form, she had a hand wrapped around her stomach and in the dark he could barely make out the blue of her uniform. “Come on, let’s go.” He nudged her with his boot but she didn’t move. She didn’t even make a sound. “Come on,” he tried again, kicking harder this time while he watched the torchlight get closer. 

Angry, he knelt down and rolled her over. But the face staring up at him wasn’t hers, it was some fucking raider. Must have been whoever she was fighting with. Shit, that meant he’d shot her. Cooper rubbed his forehead in irritation. Nothing could ever be easy with her could it?

Footsteps sounded closer and Cooper knew his time had run out. Whoever this woman on the ground belonged to had come to collect. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

Cooper’s hand moved to his holster and he looked up at them, a grin on his face, “Gentlemen.”

“Grab her legs. Come on, hurry up, don’t have all day!” Hands wrapped around your ankles and you jolted awake. You kicked out, eyes blind to anything but the memory of the raiders from before. The old woman at your feet jumped away from your weak attack and frowned down at you. 

“Well, shit, she’s alive.”

An old man walked out from behind you. “What the fuck are you talking about?” He crouched down, groaning as his knees cracked in protest. He leaned towards you and you flinched back, eyes wide as you watched him reach out to you. His hand hovered your face and you braced yourself for an attack. He only poked you, though, frowning when you winced away from the prodding of your bruises. “I’ll be damned, she is.”

The old woman sighed and threw a bag over her shoulders. You watched in horror as she tucked a pack of surgical tools into the pocket of her large skirt. Were these people about to carve into you?

What the fuck was wrong with this goddamn place?

The old man held out his arm and she limped over to him, taking it and walking away from you. You glanced around, still confused on what the hell was going on. “Hey!” You croaked. Your hand wrapped around your waist, prodding the wound. You were shocked to find it healed over, only a dull ache left in its place. “Hey!” You shouted again. 

The woman turned around and glared at you. “What?” She screeched and you winced at the way it echoed through the trees. 

“Where’s Filly?”

She shared a look with the old man and they both stared at you like you were crazy. “Right behind you,” they walked off without another word, seeming sorely disappointed that they hadn’t been able to dig into you. 

You groped blindly through the dirt and grass around you until your fingers felt the handle of your bag. You curled your hand into a weak fist and tugged it towards you. You felt completely drained. But you couldn’t stay here, not unless you wanted to be turned into someone’s next meal. 

You groaned and forced yourself to your feet, head swimming with pain and nausea. You zipped your suit back up and winced at how it stuck to your skin. Your blood still hadn’t dried completely, you looked down and grimaced at the crimson stains covering you. No wonder it hadn’t dried, it looked like someone had dunked a bucket of red paint over you. How the hell were you still standing? 

You’re not sure what’s worse right now, that you’re not surprised you got shot or that you can’t figure out whether he shot you on purpose or not. 

He’d made it clear what exactly you were to him. A hole to fill, as he’d so eloquently told you. And you’re pretty sure you’d made it clear that you weren’t interested in filling that role for him ever again. At least you hoped you did, last night was an adrenaline fueled blur and you weren’t positive you were remembering everything properly. 

You can barely recall that raider jumping you, you just know you’d shot your gun off and made a run for it. The bullet hole hadn’t even caught up to you until you were about half a mile away. Maybe Cooper had shot you on purpose. It’s not like you contributed much and you doubted he really needed your help in Filly. 

Made you wonder why he bothered keeping you around for as long as he did. 

You could hear it now, Filly, you’re not sure how you didn’t before. You couldn’t see it yet, but you could hear people calling out their wares and haggling about prices. You hurried as much as you could, one leg dragging behind you slightly. You’re not sure when that got hurt, but you could barely work your right hip properly. 

Little houses were popping up around you. They were sparse and resembled shacks more than anything, but it was just another sign that you’re one step closer to not having to worry about getting shot at every five minutes. 

In front of one of the nicer homes was a clothesline. You slowly approached, eyes on the clean clothes that were beckoning you closer. You kept your hand on the handle of your gun just in case the owner of the home spotted you. What you really didn’t need was getting killed over a shirt. 

You glanced around, not seeing anyone watching you. Your gaze went back to the clothes and you frowned. If there was one thing Cooper taught you it was that no one asked in this world, they took. You ripped the clothes off the line and ducked behind a tree to change. 

Even with the blood still caked onto your skin, you felt cleaner than you had the whole time you’d been up here. Getting rid of that ridiculous suit was good for a few things. You’d blend in better with the people here in a tank top and ratty old brown pants. And you almost felt like you were getting rid of the memories attached to that suit.

It was as close as you could get without grating your skin off at least. 

You dumped your old outfit behind the house and near their clothesline. A transaction of sorts. They could have your blood soaked clothes and you could have their clean ones. Not a fair trade, but better than anything else they’d find up here. 

It didn’t take long to find the entrance to Filly, once you did you found yourself nearly cowering at the sight of all the people bustling through. Sure, it wasn’t a lot compared to California. But you’d been traveling with no one but Cooper for the past week through a barren desert. Not counting the raiders as human, you’d almost forgotten that other people existed. 

A man jumped at you and shoved a skewer of meat in your face. “Dogmeat, get your dogmeat!” You grimaced and backed away from him. So, not as civilized as you’d hoped, but you’d take what you could get. 

The biggest one nodded towards him, “Grab him.”

He grinned and shook his head, “I wouldn’t.”

The boy on the far left had his head blown off before he could even try and charge at him. He ripped the shotgun off his back and shot the other two in quick succession. He didn’t bother with them, seeing if they lived or died. He kicked at the woman at his feet again and she winced in pain. 

“The woman you fought. Where is she?”

She shook her head and curled further into herself. He sighed and grabbed her chin, wrenching it up to his and letting her get a good look at his disfigured face. She tried to shrink away from him but he tsked and shook her so hard he could hear what few remaining teeth she had rattle. 

“I don’t know,” she cried out, batting uselessly at his hands. 

“I really think you do.”

He reached down, groping over her torso and digging his fingers into the bullet hole on her side. She cried out in agony, writhing like an animal caught in a snare. “Filly, she was heading for Filly!”

He grinned and dropped her to the ground, her head thudding loudly against the large tree root. “Thank you kindly, ma’am.”

She looked up at him in fear, “You’ll let me go?”

He tilted his head, looking her over and taking in the sight of blood on her clothes. “Well, you did attack my friend,” he lifted his gun and she cowered away from him. “I don’t take well to others damaging what’s mine.”

Her brain splattered against the trunk and he stepped over her twitching body to follow the light he noticed further down the forest. He didn’t often find himself exploring these woods at night, he figured he was close enough to Filly but he needed her to confirm it. 

For a moment he lets himself doubt that she was really abandoning him in the middle of the night. Maybe she’d gotten up for a piss and been caught off guard. He dismisses the idea when he remembers that she’d taken her bag with her when she’d gone. 

He doesn’t let himself linger on it too long, pissed off that it’s bothering him at all. 

He’d seen the hope starting to form in her eyes when she’d look at him. She was getting a little loose with what she was calling him too. A little while longer together and he’s sure he’d be hearing his name again. Saying what he had was a favor to them both. Better to cut that off before anything came of it. 

Stupid fucking girl, he shouldn’t even be thinking about this anymore. He shouldn’t be looking for her, either. The confirmation that she’d left him was enough. Their time together was done, it should have ended a long time ago. He’s pretty sure he liked it better when he just thought she was a two-timing slut. 

Hate was easier than whatever the fuck this was. 

He spotted smoke through the trees and then the raiders camp. They were laughing at something and ripping into a roast that looked suspiciously like a human leg. He pulled his gun out and snuck behind them. He just needed a distraction, he’d be over this once he helped himself to their meals and their bedrolls. 

“What?” 

“Caps,” the girl’s voice was distorted by whatever metal oddity she had connected to her throat. She glanced at you, completely uninterested once she’d realized you didn’t have any payment for her. Not that you really understood the payment required. 

Who’d decided bottle caps were a good currency? 

“Well, do you know where I could get them?” She nodded towards a building adjacent to her stall and you frowned. 

The store she pointed to you clearly advertised, WE BUY TEETH. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Or,” you glanced at her with hope, “you go to that alley over there and get on your knees. You could probably get five caps off someone if you suck good enough.”

You glared at her and started walking away from her stall in anger. “I’d get more for my fucking teeth!” You shouted over your shoulder. She shrugged and went back to fiddling with the metal tools on her table. 

You stood in the middle of the marketplace, desperately trying to figure out where you should go. You almost missed Cooper right now, he might be a dick but at least he understood how this place worked. 

You felt an intense ache of betrayal and longing and immediately dismissed any thoughts of Cooper. He could go and get himself shot for all you cared. You loved him, and would have loved him no matter how he looked. It didn’t matter that he was changed, disfigured, you didn’t give a shit about any of that. You just wanted him. And all he cared about was having a pretty body warming his bed. 

You would do this without him. 

You glared against the bright sunlight, scanning each storefront and trying to find something that could help you. You’d already tried to talk to Ma June but she hadn’t been as pleasant as you had been hoping. She wasn’t looking for workers and apparently not charity cases either. 

You didn’t think you were a charity case but apparently having all your fingers and teeth made you an outsider here. You needed to get out of this sun, you didn’t want these clothes to start stinking with sweat so soon. You were trying to keep them as clean as possible for as long as you could. 

You spotted the bar and decided to try your luck there. Maybe you could be a waitress or something. If they still had whores they had to at least have servers here. 

Right?

Maybe you were a fucking charity case. You shook off the thought and ducked inside. You were never going to get far on your own if you kept doubting yourself. You might be a bit naive to how this world works but you’re a fast learner, you’ll catch on soon enough. 

You still wished someone was here to help you. 

He sat down on a log, ripping a piece of meat off the skewer and sinking back into his seat. He ate his food and picked at his teeth, bored while he surveyed the damage he’d done to the camp. She wasn’t exactly a heavy conversationalist, but at least she was something. 

It was startling just how quiet and still the night felt without her sitting across the fire with him. He loathed to admit it, but her company had at least provided him with some entertainment if nothing else. Now everything felt too quiet, too lonely. 

He sighed and shook his head, this was stupid. Two hundred years he’s been on his own. A few nights with her wasn’t going to change who he was. It wasn’t going to fix him and magically turn him into her Prince Charming again. 

Unbidden he thought of her face when he’d grabbed her from those raiders in the old neighborhood. It’s the first time anyone’s ever looked relieved to see him since he’d changed. He’d had to pry her off of him and even then she seemed like she barely wanted to let him go. 

He hadn’t made anyone feel safe in a very long time and he worried a bit for her sanity if she thought he was trustworthy. He was only doing more harm trying to go after her. But something in him couldn’t let go. It was like the love you used to share had been warped alongside him. 

He didn’t like the idea of anyone else getting their hands on her. She was his to fuck with and torment, anyone else would push too much. He felt confident, despite tonight’s incident, that he knew how to poke her without going too far. 

Once he was full he shoved a freshly killed raider off their bedroll and settled down to sleep. He figured he’d have better luck recognizing where he was once the sun came up. 

The next morning he went through the raiders’ pockets and bags, lucky enough to find some Radaway among their junk. Maybe he was right, maybe she was a bad luck charm. Maybe he was being stupid last night, thinking about what they used to be. There’s no point in dwelling in the past, he can never go back to that and neither can she. 

Still, he could leave her alone. Give her a chance to make it on her own without him there to torment her. 

He considered it for about two seconds before he dismissed the thought. You’d both had a deal and she had rescinded on that deal. He didn’t take to kindly to people screwing him over, he’d just have to teach her not to fuck with him. 

He tossed his bag over his shoulder and made his way out of the raider’s camp. He had a better idea of where he was now. It wouldn’t be much further until he reached Filly and found her again. He was intent on making sure she stayed with him this time. 

He’d leash her if he had to. 

“There’s nothing I could do for a few caps?”

“I could think of something darlin’,” a man hollered at you from across the makeshift bar. The building was in pretty good shape, though the alcohol looked questionable. The owner seemed nice enough, a wrinkled old man whose hands shook too hard for him to pour a drink without spilling it. 

“Don’t need any help.” The old man muttered under his breath, tottering over to the other side of the room to pour another cup. He ended up knocking it into the man’s lap and cussing as the alcohol poured across the floor. 

“Right,” you muttered. You let your head fall in your hands, rubbing your face in frustration while you tried to think of what to do. You’d made a deal with yourself that if you couldn’t find work by the end of the day, you would sell your teeth. 

You were hoping it wouldn’t come to that, but with the way your stomach was rumbling and how everyone seemed to keep turning you away it was seeming more and more likely. You slumped over the bar, trying to think of a solution or another idea. 

You’d been propositioned by enough men to know you could make plenty of caps in the back alley behind the bar. But everytime you even remotely considered it, you felt yourself shrinking up. Your adrenaline would spike like you were readying yourself for a fight. 

You figured it would be a while before you could even safely consider that. “You seem a might rundown, hun.”

You didn’t bother lifting your head. You knew it was the man who’d been staring at you since you walked in. You could smell him even with your head down. You did your best to ignore him but he didn’t seem to take too kindly to that. 

“Hey,” he shoved at your shoulder and the impact was enough to force your head up. “Are you fucking deaf?”

”No,” you muttered through gritted teeth. Your hand hovered behind your back, itching for the gun tucked in your pants. “I’m not fucking interested.”

He lifted his hand and muttered, “Bitch,” a loud smack followed and echoed through the bar. Your head whipped to the side so hard you worried it might fly off. You clutched your cheek, spitting blood onto the wood of the counter. 

Your hand was already on your gun when you heard the sound of a hammer being pulled back. “Oh,” you turned, shocked to find Cooper standing behind the man. His gun was leveled with the man’s face and he shook his head in disappointment. “I really wish you hadn’t done that.”

Men stood up from their tables and drew their guns, pointing all of them at Cooper. You’d seen the signs with the anti-ghoul symbols but you didn’t think they’d really follow through. Apparently it was the only law they obeyed around here. 

Cooper smiled as the men cocked their guns, eyes alight with a challenge. Then they landed on you and he frowned again. He raised his hands in surrender and tucked his gun back in his holster. He darted forward and grabbed you. He yanked you into his chest and you stumbled over your feet, scowling at him. He leaned next to your ear, gravelly voice sending chills down your back, “We’re leaving.”

He didn’t leave you much choice, dragging you despite the way you tried to fight against him. “The lady stays,” the man who’d hit you ordered. His friends took a step forward, blocking Cooper from the exit. He chuckled and glanced over at the man. 

“That was a mistake, friend.” Before you knew what was happening he was shoving you to the ground and shots were going off. Not willing to get shot again, you crawled on all fours towards the door. The sound of bullets whizzing over your head had you ducking every now and again, trying to protect yourself as much as you could. 

You could hear Cooper taunting them, and after every remark another body would hit the floor. You yelped and jumped back when one fell in front of you. A bullet embedded itself in the floor beside you, the wood splintering and exploding upward, just barely missing your face. 

You crawled over the dead bodies and threw yourself out the door, trying to outrun the sound of gunfire. But it was too late. The rest of Filly had heard the fight and those that were stupid enough to stay were starting to draw the fight out into the marketplace.

It was almost like a game, ducking under bullets and the spray of blood. Whatever Cooper was shooting them with was making them light up like the Fourth of July. By the time you’d managed to hide yourself behind a building, you looked like you’d been hosed down with blood. So much for keeping the clothes clean. 

Your head thudded against the side of the building and you clenched your eyes shut, breathing heavily through your open mouth. You could feel your heart pounding against your chest. But you didn’t feel like you were going to have a heart attack this time, maybe you were starting to adapt to all this. 

Feet scrambled across the sand and someone threw themselves down next to you. You tensed and opened your eyes, you didn’t relax much when you realized it was Cooper. He grinned at you and glanced over his shoulder, checking no one had seen him. 

The other’s didn’t seem to care that the man that had started the fight was no longer a part of it. You’re pretty sure they just needed an excuse to shoot each other. Cooper popped his gun open and reloaded the chamber. 

He glanced at your blood soaked form and scoffed, “You look like you’re doing well.”

You refused to look at him, “Yeah, no thanks to you.”

He didn’t take well to the way you were avoiding him. He darted forward, fingers digging into your chin and forcing you to look at him. “Sweetheart, who left who?”

You ripped your face out of his hand and glared at him. “Don’t try and pretend like you didn’t leave me a long time before I woke up. You wrote me off copper. You assumed the worst about me and you gave up.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something when a noise behind you interrupted him. He gave you a long look and got to his feet. “If you’re not here when I come back, I’ll shoot you. Understand me?”

You looked at him for a long moment, body tensed with rage before you nodded your head. “Understood.”

SERIES TAGLIST: @pixelatedprofilepic @o0mellowdramatic0o @bisasterbisexual @julianmarie @v3nix @coolrobloxkid28 @sunnexaltation @fiftyshadesofokay @ktdragonborn @ambivertdreamer @one-of-thewalkingdead @hellolettuce444 @ghcstvibess @qardasngan @foreverwing223 @leo4242564 @1-800shootmeplease @awkwardly-bucky @fallout-girl219 @the-faceless-bride @milk-ducts @dramaticpandabear @ladiadia @rockerchick05 @raviolisenpai @cupid-club @alastorsw1f3 @sarapaprikas-blog @sgt-barnesveins @weakling-grace

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Malicious Daughter is Back! - 3

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

You scoffed, “Are you willing to wait until school is over? As you can see, I have to teach my precious students.”

Bucky smirked. This was the first time you had seen him smile. You had to admit he was handsome. Victoria must be proud, as Bucky was way out of her league.

But you didn't want to get close to him since he was already your step-sister's fiancé. Perhaps he had the same character as her.

Bucky interrupted your thoughts, “You don't have to worry since the principal has given you permission to leave after this class.”

Unbeknownst to you, before he entered your class, Andre had brought him to the principal's office. Bucky had bribed the principal with cigars.

For the first time, Andre saw his principal, who usually wore a flat expression from the stress of dealing with delinquent students, laugh heartily as he picked up the cigars. “Haha… of course. Miss Sinclair needs a day off.”

Clueless about Bucky's deal with the principal, you raised your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting the principal to give you a day off so easily.

Half a day without dealing with the delinquents wasn't a bad idea. As you rose from your seat, you issued a directive, "Fine. Let's go."

You pointed towards the hallway and added, "And stick close to me. It's like a jungle out there."

As Bucky followed behind you, he soon realized the context of your warning. The students erupted in cheers, though the intent behind their vocalizations remained ambiguous, potentially constituting either catcalls or attempts to provoke offense.

"You've got a rich sugar daddy, miss," one student jeered, while another offered unsolicited advice, "Dude, run while you still have the chance."

A misguided attempt at physical interaction occurred when one student attempted to bump into Bucky, prompting him to sidestep, causing the student to stumble and fall.

"Dude, what the heck?" the surrounding students exclaimed in confusion.

"Pardon me," Bucky politely interjected as he maneuvered away from the scene.

Observing the exchange, you addressed the student, Mark, with a pointed remark, "That's what you get."

In response, Mark displayed a gesture of defiance, raising his middle finger, to which you reciprocated in kind.

Witnessing the interaction between you and your students, Bucky noted your lack of fear, interpreting your demeanor as assertive and resilient.

“RINNNGG!”

Break time was over, and it was time for the students to return to their classrooms. However, none of them made a move.

You understood the reason; they knew you were leaving.

Standing near the school door, you raised your right arm and held up three fingers.

“If I count to three and you guys are still here, I'll make all of you fail my class,” you warned them, your tone firm and commanding.

“We'll make you viral, b*tch! This is unfair,” Mark protested.

“Try me. One…” You began the countdown, your voice echoing through the hallway, your expression steely.

Before you could even say “two,” the students scattered, rushing back to their classrooms in a panic.

Bucky watched in awe, though he didn't verbalize it. Instead, he gave you an impressed look, admiration evident in his eyes.

You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “Like I said before, devil spawn.”

Bucky chuckled and held the door open for you, a gesture of respect and acknowledgment of your authority.

💋💋💋💋💋

He brings you to a luxurious café, seemingly inspired by Moroccan design. The place features intricate tiles, arched doorways, and rich colors. Elegant furniture, soft lighting, and comfortable seating create a warm atmosphere.

It had been a long time since you visited a place like this, reminiscent of times before you were kicked out by your stepmother.

Opting for the cheapest drink on the menu, you ordered a cold brew, not wanting to owe him anything more than necessary.

Your drink arrived promptly, and you tasted it. The taste of the coffee made you forget about the shitty cafeteria coffee you just had. Compared to you, who ordered a simple drink, Bucky's was unique.

His coffee was prepared right before him, with the server announcing, “We have prepared your coffee cup, sir.”

Bucky nodded graciously. “Thank you.”

“You're very welcome, sir,” the server replied before departing. “Enjoy.”

Bucky savored his coffee with an air of elegance, his movements precise and refined. You couldn't help but notice that he had been wearing leather gloves this whole time.

Taking a sip of your drink, you asked, “So… What do you want to talk about?”

Bucky set down his drink and met your gaze with his calm, cold demeanor.

“It's about last night,” he began, his expression unreadable as he spoke.

You grumbled, “Oh my god. Are you going to sue me for sexual harassment? I'm sorry. It's a bad habit of mine, doing something without thinking. Please don't sue me. I don't have the money to hire a lawyer.”

Bucky struggled to follow your rapid speech. “No, calm down. I won't sue you. It's just…” He paused, taking a deep breath to compose himself.

Or did Victoria cry to Bucky and ask him to teach you a lesson? You couldn't help but wonder what he was going to say next.

“I have this disorder, Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD). The symptoms include being overly sensitive to sensory input, including touch,” he explained, his gaze shifting to observe your reaction.

“No judgment here. I've encountered various cases of trauma from my students,” felt relieved a bit you reassured him, trying to offer some comfort.

“Thank you for understanding,” Bucky replied gratefully. “When someone touches me without my consent, I will vomit or I will faint.”

Your eyes widened in realization. “Shit.” Guilt washed over you as you began to fully comprehend the impact of your actions.

Bucky confessed, “The weirdest thing is, when you touched me, kissed me, my body didn't have any reaction.”

You lifted your head in confusion. “Huh?”

“I went to different psychologists, tried many medicines, doctors, meditations, but none of them worked. Except you. A stranger that I've never met,” Bucky elaborated.

“Are you sure?” you asked, still trying to process the revelation.

Bucky then removed his leather gloves and called the waitress over. “You. Come here.”

The waitress approached, curious about Bucky's request. “Yes, sir?”

Bucky extended his bare hand. “Shake my hand.”

The waitress, unsure of the situation, complied and shook Bucky's hand.

In an instant, Bucky grabbed a nearby bucket and began to vomit.

The waitress and you were both shocked. Bucky, who had been calm and composed moments ago, now appeared pale and sickly in just a matter of seconds.

Could what he said really be true?

Bucky wiped his mouth and apologized to the waitress, his tone sincere. “I'm sorry. Please don't be offended. It's not because of you. I hope the tips my secretary will give you could cheer you up.”

The waitress, still unsure of what just happened, responded hesitantly, “Ah, thank you?”

Bucky's secretary appeared seemingly out of nowhere and began conversing with the waitress, diverting her attention.

Left alone with Bucky, he raised his hand again, as if asking for your right hand. Confused, you offered your hand, which he gently took and held in his.

You thought it might have been a mistake, but Bucky showed no reaction. He closed his eyes, seemingly waiting for something to happen. There was no rapid heartbeat, no sweating, and no urge to vomit.

He opened his eyes and saw you looking thoughtful. “Thank you for your patience and trust.”

You replied, “Ehm, glad to help.”

“My predictions were correct. You could be the answer to my disorder. I will make you a generous offer,” Bucky stated. His voice tone sounded like happiness is in it.

"Really?" You could ask for money for your grandmother's surgery. After you were kicked out of the house, you lived with your grandmother from your mother's side. After your mother died, your father stopped sending money to your grandmother.

Bucky nodded, his expression serious.

You hesitated. "Wait. Does Victoria know about this?"

Bucky shook his head. “Besides my parents, only you know about this.”

“Both of you are going to get married, and you didn't want to share the truth?” you questioned. Poor Victoria, the man she will marry, has a cold heart.

You were supposed to be the bad guy, glad that she would receive her karma. But why did this remind you of something?

He went silent. The thought of marriage with Victoria irked Bucky. He pulled on his leather hand gloves again and rested his hand on the table. He looks like he's discussing a business deal worth billions.

“The truth is, I saw this marriage as a business deal. I don't have the desire to have a heart-to-heart conversation with your stepsister. And from what I've seen of her, it's better if I don't talk to her about my disorder,” Bucky explained.

His tone was cold, sending a shiver down your spine. No wonder the Barnes family had been successful conglomerates for so long—they knew how to get what they wanted.

But there was something you didn't agree with. “I want to help you,” you stated.

Bucky visibly lightened up at your words.

You crossed your arms tightly, a frown creasing your brow. “But after what you said to hide it from your fiance, you reminded me of my father. A man of few words. A hero in business, but a failure in family.”

Your father, Jonathan, lived and breathed for money. He left everything about the household to your mom, while the families’ businesses thrived. But after your mother died, her family's business went bankrupt, and he didn't offer much help.

You didn't want to assist another man who reminded you of your dad.

Placing a dollar bill on the table to pay for your drink, you stood up abruptly. “I hope you find a cure, but I won't be the one to help you. Thank you and goodbye.” You grabbed your coat and started walking away.

Bucky hadn't expected you to reject him. And what's more outrageous is you're comparing him with your father. Bullshit.

He scoffed, his fingers tapping the table in frustration. No one had ever said no to him before.

He turned around and saw your back. “What if I raise my offer? Your childhood home and Velari into your hands?”

Your foot stopped before you reached the door. How did he know your deepest desire? The home you got kicked out of was the treasure from your mom. That beautiful home was designed by her; she was a designer.

And Velari, the fashion brand built by your mother, was now occupied by Celestial Enterprises, owned by Genevieve. It was your birthright to inherit your mother's work, but that other woman and her devil spawn were able to kick you out.

Lost in your daydream, you didn't realize Bucky was standing before you. “Do you like that deal?”

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze with a hint of mischief in your eyes. A sly smile played on your lips as you reached out and gently took his hand in yours.

Bucky felt a sudden surge of heat as your fingers intertwined with his.

You lifted his leather-clad right hand and brought it closer to your lips. Gently, you pressed a kiss against it. "With an offer like that, I might just be tempted to give you more than just my hand."

The gesture made Bucky shiver, though he didn't feel any disgust. This feeling was completely different from what he experienced last night.

From this moment, he knew you're a natural seducer, and he was playing with fire.

Author Note: I had goosebumps writing the last part. I hope you like this chapter. 💓💋

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@thetravelingtyper

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@chemtrails-club

@dexter99

@seresingirlie

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@tfatwsoldir

@itsteambarnes

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

@sapphirebarnes

@thedonswife13

@angelbabyyy99

@cjand10

@esposadomd

@buckitostan

Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

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[starmapz]

shame on me || chapter fourteen || lights

gojo satoru x female vessel reader

❝gojo satoru is the strongest sorcerer. when you come along with power to match his own, his responsibility to the world gets the best of him and his first impression is poor to say the least. when he needs your help, by some miracle you're too kind to deny him. or maybe he's just manipulative enough to convince you. either way, you're stuck training his student, a vessel like you. what could possibly go wrong?❞

warnings || 18+ only. contains explicit content. enemies to lovers. extreme angst. graphic descriptions of injury and death. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. fluff. major character death. anxiety. panic attacks. extreme slow burn. eventual smut. p in v. oral (f! and m! receiving). praise. overstimulation. unprotected. fingering. mating press. slight nanami x reader. happy ending!

additional tags || gojo is a dumbass but very lovable. very very very minor love triangle, will not be a main theme. no competing. takes place after season 2. au where gojo is not sealed and the shibuya incident does not go down the same. nanami is alive. choso is around. no major manga spoilers but will contain themes and ideas touched on later.

wc || 7.4k.

edited but not beta-read.

a/n || thank you so much for sticking with me through this fic and please enjoy the last chapter. ♡

series masterlist || main masterlist || previous chapter || end ✓

Silence plagues you. Lately, the silence in your mind and around the campus is louder than a rocket taking off, than a crowd cheering, louder even than the endless rambles of your boyfriend. You know he does it to fill the space, though. You don’t dare complain because it helps- god it helps- and he knows it.

Even during moments of silence with no shared thoughts between you and the curse, there was a constant drone, a hum that you had never paid any notice to until it was gone. Every loud noise felt sharper, every quiet night threatened to drown you.

Satoru had taken to humming until he was certain you were asleep in his arms, and even during the cooler nights of early winter he would leave the windows open in hopes that the whistle of the breeze would soothe the mind-numbing feeling of silence.

The silence was surely a side effect of your grief. Although you’d finally gotten to lay Kento’s body to rest at a proper funeral surrounded by the faculty and made peace with his loss, you grieved for the loss of the constant presence of Miriko.

There was no funeral to aid with the loss, as the people who truly knew her were limited so heavily, and there was no body to bury. Still, it didn’t stop Yuji from holding a small event in her honor with you, Satoru and Yuta in attendance alongside him. It was thoughtful of him and though you could never blame him for what happened, you know he feels guilty.

It was a strange time for the school in general. With Miriko, Kenjaku, and Sukuna gone, most curses remained in the shadows, dormant for the time being. Any that dared rear their ugly heads were generally an easy job for the students alone.

You had expected the lack of missions to get to Satoru, but he seemed content. He busied himself with continuing to train his students and, most importantly to him, taking care of you.

You’re capable of taking care of yourself of course even without Miriko, and he knows that too, but you wouldn’t dare turn down his kindness. In the dead of night when you’re at your most vulnerable, it’s him that brings you back to earth and calms the mighty storm raging in your brain.

This is one of those many nights. Not the first, and doomed to not be the last, either.

You jolt awake when Taro hops on the bed, seeking your warmth. Letting out a breath, you try to relax with the pup between you and your boyfriend’s legs and the sorcerer’s arm draped over you. Yet sleep eludes you, and now that you’re awake, the still air grows increasingly loud, like a buzzing in your ears.

Even with the window open, the air is so quiet that it threatens to drive you mad. Pulling your knees to your chest as you curl up under the covers, you press your fingers into your temples. Anything to dull the feeling that drags at your chest and clutches at your throat.

You breathe as steadily as you can but your heart pounds and races until it’s in your ears. The pounding, the ringing, it’s all so much that you can’t handle it anymore.

Flipping the covers desperately off of yourself, you clutch at the wall as you race to the ensuite, shutting the door behind you and gripping the edge of the sink. You fumble with the tap, turning it on and focusing on the running water in an attempt to drown out the deafening noises plaguing you.

It’s not the first time Satoru’s woken up this way, with Taro accidentally pulling you from the gentle hands of rest and the covers flipped over him. The sound of running water tells him everything he needs to know as he gets to his feet, making his way around the bed and to the shut bathroom door.

He knocks on the door once, twice, three times, a rhythmic sound. The door cracks open like a ritual, something the two of you have grown accustomed to as he slips into the washroom and envelops you in his strong arms.

Your tired and distant expression examines him in the mirror. He’s just in black boxers and you’re in one of his T-shirts. It hangs off your body like a dress and you know the sight of you in his clothes drives him crazy in all the best ways.

Right now, no matter how much he adores the sight of you in his clothing, that’s not at the top of his mind.

Like clockwork, he knows just what to do to bring you back to earth. He kisses your cheek, parting from you to turn on the bath. The tap is louder than that of the sink as he runs his hand under it to check the temperature and you’re thankful for the way your brain seems to soothe as the water drowns the silence.

While you wait for the bath to fill, Satoru returns to your side, humming to you the first song that comes to mind. His choices vary wildly by the day, ranging from whatever pop hit he heard the second-years listening to earlier to a rock song he heard while passing Kusakabe’s office.

Today, his choice surprises you. You don’t recognize it in the slowed, mellow way he hums it gently in your ear as he slips his fingers deftly beneath the hem of the shirt you’re wearing. He’s soft and slow as he slides his hands up your body and slips the shirt over your head. Every movement is understanding, passionate, and filled with love.

No matter how tired he is, Satoru doesn’t blame you for waking him night after night. He doesn’t blame you for the amount of bath salts you go through. Which is a lot, by the way.

He doesn’t blame you for grieving. He had expected it to be similar to when you had awoken to the loss of Kento, but your grief came in a different form this time around. He knows it drives you crazy and he knows you feel guilty. You’ve expressed to him how weak you feel, although with his new insight into real strength, he would call you the strongest.

Carefully setting your shirt aside, he holds your cheeks as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. His eyes have dark circles beneath them, something that not even his reverse cursed technique can fix, but he doesn’t mind. Not when he’s doing it for you.

When the bath is drawn, he leans down and fills it with lavender bath salts, a sleep aid for the both of you. He drops his boxers to the floor after testing the water once more and silently guides you to the bath. He lets you get in first before sliding in behind you.

Strong arms pull your back against his chest. Your head falls back on his shoulder as he continues to hum a tune you still don’t recognize.

Taking a deep breath, you let your muscles relax in his embrace with warm water surrounding you, lashes fluttering as you stare at the ceiling.

“What song is that?” You ask him when your heart calms enough that you feel at ease for the time being. Your voice is hoarse, scarcely used for the past few hours and you clear your throat.

“It’s that Avicii song I really like,” he tells you. You tilt your head on his shoulder to get a better view of his face. His eyes are closed, but he still takes the opportunity to give you a little headbutt. He feels you smile against his cheek.

“The one that says ‘I could not live without you’, right?”

“That’s the one, baby cakes.”

You smile softly, shutting your eyes in turn as he continues to hum. His voice is always so sultry and you love the way it translates into his humming or even the way he loves to sing with goofy voices.

“Toru, I’m so-”

“Don’t even think about it, pretty girl,” he interrupts. “Don’t apologize for grieving.”

“I just feel bad for,” you gesture in the air at nothing in particular, “all of this.”

“You feel bad for giving me the time to have a nice bath with my gorgeous, wonderful, sweet, pretty baby girl?”

You can feel the way his lips pull into a grin against your heated cheeks when you can’t hold back a giggle.

Satoru can be… oblivious at times. For someone known across the world of sorcerers as the Six Eyes, he can be completely blind to very obvious signals from yourself and others. The same can’t be said when it comes to his attentiveness towards you.

While he may not always pick up on the obvious, he knows the subtle signals of your body like the back of his hand.

He knows the way your brow pulls together, knit with a look of pain and frustration when the silence gets to you. He knows the way your muscles loosen and your eyes light up when he drones on about some story that’s barely interesting, but you’re just relieved to hear something to ease your tension.

More importantly, he knows the way your body reacts to his every touch. He knows the subtle way you grind against him when you want something more. When you want a different form of stress relief.

He groans, hands moving to your hips to temporarily halt your grinding. “Are you sure, sweetheart? How’s your head feeling?”

“My head’s fine, just let me ride you,” you whisper breathlessly in his ear as he allows you to continue grinding against him. “I need this.”

Satoru’s head falls back against the wall of the tub, letting out a breath shaky with pleasure. He only lets you grind against him for a few moments before he turns the tables to put your pleasure first.

One arm snakes around your middle, holding you tightly against his broad and muscular chest. You can feel the way his breathing speeds up with his growing lust as it fans against your shoulders.

His other arm slides down your waist to your hip, before he squeezes a handful of your inner thigh. Your breath hitches when you feel his fingers lightly brush the puffy lips of your pussy. He kisses the shell of your ear lightly, repeating the movement.

You buck your hips, yearning for friction but he holds you tighter, keeping your hips still while he teases you with the tips of his fingers. You whine, gripping the edge of the tub as you wriggle against his grip.

Satoru’s warm and teasing chuckle sends a shiver up your spine. “Easy, baby. Le’me take care of you,” he hums, his voice low and honeyed like a sickeningly sweet tea. The effect his voice has on you drives you crazy as you moan his name from just his words.

“S-Satoru, please.”

His name on your tongue is like a drug that he can’t get enough of, a drug that sends him spiraling as he spreads your folds, desperate to hear it again. He drags his middle finger down your slit before sliding it into your entrance.

Your lips part in a silent cry of pleasure at the sudden intrusion, his finger dragging so deliciously and teasingly slowly that you arch your back until he sinks to the knuckle. He hums into your neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin.

His ministrations against your gummy inner walls are so slow that you can’t help the desperate whine you let out. Satoru takes that as his sign, gliding his ring finger in along with his middle finger. A sudden gasp cuts off your whine as your walls pulse and tighten, slowly adjusting to the additional digit.

“So tight, my love. Relax f’ me,” he hums against your skin, licking a stripe up the column of your neck. He pulls back to watch the way your jaw hangs slack, practically drooling with each slow curl of his fingers.

As he curls and shifts his fingers slowly, he knows he’s found your g spot when you cry out and arch your back so perfectly for him to drag his fingers at the perfect angle in your sopping cunt that you think you might just cum on the spot.

The coil in your stomach tightens as you teeter on the edge of release, only for Satoru to withdraw his fingers with a dark chuckle. “Not yet, my love.”

You let out a surprised yelp when he flips you to face him, your glazed over eyes and blissed out expression like a damn masterpiece in a museum to him. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you grind hard against his rock-hard, twitching cock in an effort to chase your release.

His breath hitches in his throat, his hands finding your hips to still your movements. “Shit baby,” he groans, exhaling as his cock twitches again. He has to remind himself that these moments in the early morning he always wants to focus on you, make them all about you. Your comfort, your pleasure.

He’ll chase his release through yours.

“Toru, please,” you whimper, having been so close to your release only moments ago.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he smiles cheekily, raising a hand to the back of your neck to pull you down for a heated kiss. You know from the sloppy way he claims your lips that he’s just as desperate as you are, and you use the moment to your advantage as his grip on your hips loosens and you’re able to grind your pussy against his hardened member.

He moans into your mouth, his hips bucking involuntarily.

“Tsk. What’d I say, baby? Patience,” he hums in your ear, tightening his grip on your hip again as he brings his other hand down to your clit, circling it slowly and teasingly. You throw your head back, writhing desperately as your nails dig into his shoulders, raking his collar bones.

“S-S’toru,” you mumble, your words catching in your throat. His cock throbs against your pussy, pulling another whimper from your pretty lips. “Please- f-fuck- le’me ride you,” you barely make it through the sentence, holding his shoulders tight for purchase.

“Ngh, you- hah- make a good argument,” Satoru barely manages to tie his sentence together, unable to resist the way your swollen lips seem to pull him in, the way you beg for him. “You sure, baby? We don’t have a condom-”

“Baby,” you groan, nails raking his skin when the tip of his cock brushes your clit as he moves his hand to grip both hips bruisingly. Your knees press together on either side of Satoru, closing around him as you seek friction and it drives Satoru crazy, he’s never able to hold back, to resist you, when you make it clear what you want. “I’m on birth control, just-”

Satoru gets the message loud and clear, wasting no time as he pumps his cock a couple of times before lining it up with your entrance. “S’ fucking hot, ah-” his mind blanks when you move to slide down on his cock, tightly gripping at his shoulders. “Shiiiiit- So fucking hot.”

The drag of his throbbing length in your tight walls pulls a gasp from you as you take him in one slow movement, swallowing every thick inch of him. Your body shudders involuntarily when you reach the hilt, chest heaving as you both stare at one another through lidded, lust-filled eyes.

God, the feeling of the pulsing veins running along your walls raw as they clench around him already, it’s a layer of pleasure that makes tears prick in your eyes, the feeling so intense. You almost think you could unwind right then and there.

“S’ fuckin’ gorgeous riding me,” Satoru purrs, leaning his head back against the tub as he lifts your hips effortlessly with his built arms. The blues of his eyes are nearly invisible behind his blown pupils as he admires you, his gaze completely glazed over in pleasure, swirling with admiration and lust.

He’s slow and sensual, not moving with his usual zeal. He lifts your hips again, a deep moan parting his lips when your nails rake over his shoulders and collarbone as you slide back down on his length.

His grip on your hips grows stronger, more bruising, as it takes every last ounce of self control that he has to keep the pace slow, to focus on your comfort, your pleasure. He lets out a shaky breath, his baby blues flickering up to your blissed out expression as he leans forward, pressing tender kisses to your chest as he rolls his hips.

A breathy moan parts your lips when he sucks on your nipple, tongue swirling around the hardened bud before nipping the skin. His eyes never once leave your expression, drinking in the way you gasp, the way your fingernails curl into his skin. He hisses through his teeth, releasing your nipple at the sudden sting of your long nails, but wastes no time paying attention to the other bundle of nerves.

The stimulation of your chest has you growing more needy as you take it upon yourself to move your hips faster. Satoru’s lips stutter against you as he loses his ability to hold back at the feeling of your walls clenching around him with each movement of your hips.

“Fuck, p-pretty girl,” he growls against your tit, nipping fervently at the plump skin. His strong grip stills your hips, smirking when you whine at the lack of friction.

In one quick movement, he fucks up into you, thrusting his full length into you until his swollen tip reaches your cervix as he so skillfully brushes your most sensitive spot with each thrust. “Ah! S-Shit-” Your mewls become mindless babbles very quickly, brain turning to putty as Satoru moves one hand from your hip to rub little circles over your clit with his thumb.

He pumps into you fast and relentlessly, moving his hips at an unforgiving rate as he chases your- and his- orgasms. The sounds of the warm water that surrounds you fills the air with rhythmic sloshes like music for the moans that leave your lips.

Pressure builds in your pelvis as the knot at the base of your stomach tightens. When your thighs press into Satoru’s hips, he knows you’re close. “T-Toru-”

“I know baby. Tha’s it, sweetheart,” his voice is strained as his own orgasm rapidly approaches. “Let go f’r me,” he hums sweetly, still focusing on walking you through your orgasm.

Your legs tremble as your climax barrels into you, pulling a loud cry from deep in your throat as you cling to your boyfriend’s shoulders for purchase, collapsing against him as he fucks you through the high. Your chest heaves, sweat-slicked as it sticks to Satoru’s wet skin beneath you.

He holds your hips still as his pace increases. “Where d’ you want me?” He asks breathlessly.

“Inside,” you whisper into his ear, entirely too exhausted to even lift your head.

Like music to his ears, Satoru’s climax hits like a tsunami as he unloads into you, painting your walls with his cum. He keeps you still as your walls clench around him, milking every last drop from his leaking slit while his cock throbs within you.

Slowly, he releases your hips and allows your body to slump forward against him. His breath hitches when your walls clench again with the movement, brushing his oversensitive length.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers into your ear, holding you tightly to him. Your eyes remain shut as you bury your head into his shoulder, slowly coming down from your high.

When the white-haired man beneath you begins to regain some energy, he runs the soft pads of his fingers gently over your bare back. The sound of the droplets of water falling from his hand soothes the silence, keeping your mind occupied.

You’ve come to know that Satoru isn’t necessarily tender, he doesn’t always know what you need, but he’s willing to learn. He wants nothing more than for you to be happy. You reciprocate those feelings but he insists that he is happy, simply because you accept him as himself. You understand him.

You see him for who he is.

Your communication isn’t perfect still, but you’ve both gotten better at it.

“I love you, Toru.”

His heart accelerates rapidly in his chest, you feel it as you lay against him with heavy limbs. Smirking, you kiss his shoulder as your heart speeds up in tandem with his.

“I love you too, my princess.”

It doesn’t matter how many times either of you utter those three loaded words, they never lose their meaning. They never fail to make your heart falter in your chest while your stomach flutters.

Satoru hums contently, squeezing you once before he pulls you off his cock, swallowing hard at the feeling of your walls attempting to hold him hostage.

“What do you say we get you all cleaned up?”

You pull back to look at Satoru, nodding with a blissful smile. You both help one another up as Satoru drains the tub and turns on the shower.

You rarely get moments with him where he isn’t a ping pong ball of energy or cracking jokes and flirting left and right, but these early mornings have become somewhat of a common occurrence lately. You do feel bad that he’s losing sleep, but you also cherish these moments. Away from work, away from your doubts and your anxieties, just you and him.

Of course, he panicked the first time he woke up to find you holding your head. He didn’t know what to do, how to help. He knows you’re strong, knows you're capable, but he still fears losing you. You already nearly died twice, so even so much as a headache seems to find him in a panic.

Eventually, you found the middle ground. You told him what was going on and what you needed. Satoru fell into the routine quickly and no words could possibly be enough to thank him properly.

“Turn around,” he instructs softly, pulling you from your thoughts. He lathers your back with soap, sweetly kissing your nape as he does so. You rinse off and return the favor, running your hands over the peaks and valleys of his abs.

A small smile graces your tired expression, one that Satoru regards fondly.

“Enjoying the view?” He teases, that familiar lopsided smirk returning to his lips.

“If I am?” You respond cheekily.

He playfully squeezes your waist.

“Toru!” You yelp in surprise, “that tickles!”

Your pout doesn’t stop him from grinning, pleased with himself. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.” His voice is low and sends electricity straight to your stomach that you choose to ignore as your legs still shake from the sex just a few minutes earlier.

You both finish rinsing off and shut off the shower. When the hum of the shower stops, Satoru mindlessly hums a tune, never once forgetting the reason you’d awoken in the first place. He tosses you a towel and grabs one for himself.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Satoru wraps a towel around himself, his humming coming to a halt as he stares at you.

“What’s up?” You ask curiously, tilting your head.

His smirk turns to a grin as he violently shakes his head like a dog, sending water flying across the bathroom.

“Satoru! Cut it out!”

He laughs wholeheartedly when you’re unable to contain your own giggles, unable to keep a straight face even as you reprimand him.

Using the back of your hand, you wipe the stray droplets from your cheek. “You’re such a menace,” you grumble, but your eyes shine with adoration even so.

“You love me,” he slips his hands beneath your towel, fingertips brushing your hips before he pulls you closer to him. His grin never once falters as he watches the way you try to contain your smile, but it spills over. “See? You looooove me,” he teases.

“Shut up, Toru,” you push half-heartedly against him, hiding your blush in his chest as you nuzzle into him when he doesn’t dare let you go. He envelops you in his strong arms, peppering the top of your head in kisses.

“Say it,” he kisses you again. “Say it,” and again. “Say-”

“Okay, okay!” You giggle, finally looking up at those eager blue eyes you’ve grown to love so much. “I love you, Satoru.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiles affectionately.

You lead the way out of the washroom, slipping one of Satoru’s shirts over your torso before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Not tired?”

Your brow knits with guilt as you look up at him. “Not really.”

He nods, sitting beside you. “I thought I had ya all tired out,” he chuckles.

Early morning light filters through the blinds from the window above the bed. A cool breeze brings with it the smell of fresh frost settling on the grass through the crack of the window. You shiver as it grazes your bare skin. 

“You know,” the white-haired sorcerer hums, “I have something for you. It’s… not quite ready but-” he pauses, glancing at the window. “Y’know what, get dressed.”

You tilt your head at him, curious. “What is it?”

“Get dressed or you won’t find out.”

Exchanging Satoru’s shirt for one of your own, you throw on a pair of jeans and a jacket, following your boyfriend to the door. Before he can open it, you suddenly gasp.

“Wait!”

Before Satoru can protest, you dash back up the stairs, searching for his glasses or blindfold. When you don’t find either, you grab the bandages you know he wore long ago, bounding back down the stairs.

It’s his turn to tilt his head curiously now, understanding when he sees what’s in your hand.

“It’s not a big deal, love, I’ll survive without it,” he assures you, but he still kneels to let you wrap it around his head.

“I know, but I want you to be comfy.” You brush his hair from his face as he lets you delicately wrap the bandages over his eyes. You can’t see the way his eyes close as he practically melts into your touch, his muscles easing beneath your oh-so-gentle fingers. You adjust the bandages over his eyes, leaning back to take a look at your work.

With a satisfied nod, you press a chaste kiss to his lips and head back to the door. Satoru pauses for a moment before following you, his hidden gaze locked on you. He knows you can’t see the love pouring from his eyes behind the bandages, but he does know you’ve grown to be able to read his expressions effortlessly in spite of the covering. When you turn to see why he isn’t following, you demonstrate that exact ability when you spot his smile and your gaze fills with the same outpouring of love that Satoru’s has.

You can’t see it, but you know.

Hand in hand, Satoru leads the way past the forest clearing, further into the trees on the outer edges of the school’s barrier. You lean into his warmth as the trees block the early morning rising sun from warming you.

Peeking through the trees, you spot a structure but can’t quite make out what it is. Ducking beneath a stray branch, Satoru picks up the pace and tugs you along with him until the structure is in sight.

Before you, a greenhouse stands in a small clearing. The door has no hinges and there’s tools and tables everywhere surrounding it, clearly unfinished.

Gaping at the structure, you round the front of the building, your stomach fluttering as you see four flower beds all protected from the cool winter air. Satoru lifts the door out of the way before replacing it as he nudges you into the greenhouse.

Each flower bed has a collection of flowers you’ve shown your boyfriend over the past few months and alongside the two blooms that follow you everywhere are blossoms that mean nothing but love. Roses, tulips, carnations, each one carefully chosen to wordlessly show his adoration for you, as if the act of building you an entire greenhouse wasn’t enough. Every single petal practically oozes with his undying love for you. Even the flowers that are wilting from overwatering show just how hard he’s trying.

The butterflies in your stomach stir to life as you turn to face him, stunned to silence.

“Do you like it?”

You can barely manage to squeeze out a single word as you glance back at the flowers again. “Toru- I-” Your throat clenches as you try to hold back tears, cutting off your words in the process. Silent tears stream down your cheeks, unable to hold them back as you stare in shock again at the sight.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t cry. What’s wrong?” He panics with wide eyes, cupping your cheeks as he wipes the tears away.

“Nothing, baby,” you sniffle, chuckling as you wrestle with your disbelief. “I just- you made this? You built this?” Your voice is smaller than you intend, shakier than you intend.

“Yeah! Well, sorta. I can’t take all the credit, I’m not very good at building. Or taking care of flowers for that matter,” he chuckles, glancing at the wilting flower beds, “Kusakabe helped to build it. It just needs hinges for the door.”

“I don’t know what to say,” you shake your head in his grasp, chuckling again. You had noticed that Satoru had been disappearing on occasion throughout the day, though you had always assumed it was work-related, not that he was being a massive goddamn sap. “Thank you so much,” your words come out unintentionally as a whimper, another tear slipping down your cheek.

Your boyfriend’s thumb wipes the tear away and he kisses your nose. “Don’t cry, sweetheart,” he kisses your forehead gently. “I know you’ve been a bit lost lately without your technique and I don’t want you to feel like you need to be a part of-” he lets go of your cheeks, motioning to the school grounds behind you both, “-of all that, but I know you won’t go back to your cottage without me.”

You nod slowly, blinking as you take everything in.

“You know I can’t leave the school. So-” he inhales sharply. “I wanted to do something. For you.”

Your lower lip trembles, unable to tear your gaze from him.

Somehow, this man always finds a way to surprise you. Life hadn’t been easy since Miriko’s loss. Between the silence, the grief, and the loss of your ability to grow plants on a whim, you’d been feeling rather lost. Of course, it’s not like you couldn’t take care of plants the usual way, but losing something you could do after ten years had its effect on you, especially given that you didn’t have a greenhouse at the time and winter was approaching, killing your summer flowers in the process.

In the span of one day, you’d buried a past lover, lost a friend, lost your passion and hobby, lost your job, and damn near had to bury your current lover. How were you not meant to feel lost?

“I know it’s not super big or fancy, or-”

“It’s perfect, Satoru,” you interrupt him, glossy eyes shining as you pull him down to you for a kiss. Your lips move passionately against his, trying to say everything words failed to. His hands find your waist and he pulls you flush to his body, holding you tightly to him. When your lips part, you finally get a good look at the garden before you. “You’re overwatering them, my love.”

He groans playfully. “How can you overwater something in the ground? What would they do if it rained too much?”

You giggle, lowering yourself to the ground to admire his work. Many of the flowers are wilting, there’s patches throughout each bed of flowers and it’s rather uneven, however it’s clear that he paid attention whenever you spoke to him about flowers. Lilies and Peonies sit at the edge of the closest bed of flowers just as you always have them, followed closely by hydrangeas, your favorites.

“I don’t know how I can ever repay you-”

“Y/n.” Satoru’s tone is firm as he tilts his head to look down at you. “My kids are alive because of you.” It’s rare he refers to them as his kids, but it warms your heart nonetheless. “Sukuna never got a hold of Megumi and Yuji is free from him, because of you.”

“But I’m alive because of you,” you insist.

He shakes his head, averting his gaze. “You know you were better off before I…” He trails off, not wishing to bring up how you ended up here in the first place.

“I love you, Toru. I don’t hold that against you.”

He grimaces, his adam’s apple bobbing as he sighs and plops down beside you. “I love you too.”

You know the guilt keeps him up from time to time. You’re sure it’s a part of the reason he seems to work overtime to impress you as though your heart isn’t already his to hold. It almost surprises you the tenderness at which he does hold your heart.

“Did you plant these all yourself?”

Tension seems to seep from his body as the air lightens around you and he details his endeavors with the garden until the sun has risen just above the trees. Although there’s still a pang of sadness that you aren’t able to use your technique on the flowers, you know you’ll get over it with time.

Eventually, his non-stop chatter begins to die down as he grows more weary from waking up so early with you and he pulls you into his lap while you tend to the garden. His chin rests on your shoulder as his strong arms hold you tightly.

His breathing gradually evens out and you’re positive he’s asleep until he whispers something in your ear.

“Let’s take a vacation.”

You jolt in surprise at the sound of his groggy voice, setting your shovel down. “Shouldn’t we stay here with Yuji and Megs?”

“They’re fine. We haven’t had issues with Sukuna gone. They have Kusakabe and Choso.”

You nod slowly. He’s right, a strong curse hasn’t been seen in a while.

“You can get on a plane now, right?”

“Yeah, I-” you hesitate, “-I guess I can.”

“It’s settled, then.”

“Is it?” You chuckle, given that none of the details have been discussed.

“It’s settled,” he yawns, weary body slumping onto yours again as he returns to his world of napping. You blink at him in surprise as he passes out on top of you, nearly toppling you over. You can’t bring yourself to move though, he looks too peaceful passed out on top of you.

A trip, huh? You can’t help but wonder where he has in mind.

–

A light layer of snow coats the ground beneath your boots, gleaming in the evening sunset light. The glimmer of the flakes that slowly fall before you is mesmerizing as you let Satoru lead the way through the Akureyri Gardens.

He seems to always find ways to surprise you, including when he had decided you would go on a vacation. You hadn’t expected him to choose Iceland in the middle of winter, but who were you to decline when he’d already booked everything?

It’s chillier than you’re used to, but it’s a good excuse to cozy up to your boyfriend and enjoy his body heat through the chilly nights. He’d booked a beautiful AirBnB isolated in the wilderness with beautiful glass panel ceilings to stare at the moon and stars before you slept each night.

Somehow, he never fails to find new ways to make you stumble over words as butterflies flap in your stomach.

He pulls you over a bridge, not missing the way your eyes sparkle as you glance down at the flowing river beneath you. It’s not cold enough yet for it to have frozen, and some small winter flowers still peek through the layer of snow that threatens their lives on the river bank.

He chuckles, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets as you kneel down to admire the flowers.

“These are Lupine!” You smile at him over your shoulder, tips of your fingers gently sliding along the greenery. It has yet to bloom and though you long to see the beautiful purple flowers, you figure that gives you an excuse to come back someday. “They’ll be purple when they bloom.”

Satoru smiles wholeheartedly at you, the blues of his eyes filled with a gentle tranquility from behind his sunglasses. You return the smile, taking the hand he outstretches to pull you back up. He kisses your forehead languidly, clearly enjoying taking time off for what you can only imagine is the first time in his life. He moves slowly, with little regard for the world as the reality is that it’s just the two of you.

For the first time ever, it’s just you and him.

At least, he thinks so. With his arms wrapped around you in an embrace, enjoying the simple serenity of the Icelandic landscape, you don’t see the way his eyes flicker open. Over your head, something catches his eye as he stares down at the spot you were just sitting in.

Purple flowers sway in the breeze, in full bloom and Satoru second-guesses himself. Hadn’t you mentioned that they would be purple when they bloom? But that would have to mean they hadn’t yet bloomed, so why…? His brow furrows, deep in thought, before he comes to the conclusion he must have misheard you, because the other possibility…

No. He misheard you. That couldn’t be possible, not after all this time.

Brushing off the thought, he pulls back and smiles down at you, glancing at the setting sun and deciding the two of you need to keep moving.

“C’mon,” he tugs you gently along with him. It takes you only a moment to fall into step with him. “We’re almost there.”

“We’re going somewhere?” You had honestly assumed that, much like every other place the two of you had visited, you would just wander until one of you got hungry, but it seemed Satoru had other plans.

He hums affirmatively, rounding a small hill and hopping up a set of rocks, letting you use his hand as leverage to hop up. He repeats the action two more times until you’re standing before a small bench overlooking the entire garden.

A small gasp parts your lips. The view is absolutely breathtaking and as the last bit of light glimmers over the thin layer of snow on the ground below, the smile that plays on your lips is inevitable.

“It’s beautiful,” you mumble, pulling Satoru along beside you to take a seat on the bench.

He hums as he pulls you into his lap, enveloping you in his muscular arms. “You’re beautiful,” he mumbles cheesily in your ear, not an ounce of tension or worry to be found in the man’s bones as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

Your cheeks burn as you shoot him a sheepish smile. “You’re cheesy,” you giggle.

“Maybe,” he agrees, a dorky grin crossing his features. He doesn’t care how cheesy it is, he’ll spend every minute of every day telling you so if it means he can spend each of those minutes with you.

“Why were you in such a rush to get here?” You question, tilting your head to get a better look at the sorcerer. With a gray beanie adorning his snowy white hair, he has a sort of boyish charm to him that’s horribly endearing.

“So impatient,” he grouses playfully as he pokes your side. You yelp in surprise, wriggling in his hold in an attempt to return the favor but Satoru holds you too tightly. You pout at him when he grins victoriously. “Was worried we’d miss somethin’.”

You’re not quite sure what he means by that, but he’s clearly dead set on keeping the surprise exactly that- a surprise.

He hums softly in your ear, filling the silent air as he stares out over the garden with you. The silence gets more bearable with each day, but you’ve grown rather fond of his humming.

You’re not sure how long you sit together like that when suddenly, it happens.

You’re not sure why you didn’t connect the dots, but the conversation you’d had with him about vacations was so long ago you could barely remember. There was a reason, after all, that you had mentioned wanting to visit Iceland. A reason that Satoru had clearly held near and dear to his heart as he excitedly grins beside you, his arms tightening excitedly around your middle.

The sky becomes alight, very subtly at first, with gentle blue and green hues that fluoresce into purples and bright, brilliant blues like those of Gojo’s eyes.

Your eyes widen in awe, jaw slack as you watch in wonder as the sky dances before you.

“You chose Iceland in the dead of winter for this, didn’t you?”

Just like when he showed you the greenhouse, you want to cry. You feel the tears prick at the corners of your eyes and you find yourself giggling happily in an effort to dissuade your watery eyes.

“You said it was your dream!” Your boyfriend insists, his eyes glimmering as they reflect the beautiful hues soaring through the sky.

“I did, I just- I didn’t-” You shake your head, wiping the tears from your eyes as you chuckle again. “I don’t know what to say.” Your voice is small as you stare up at the aurora that paints the sky colors you could only have dreamed. “This is a dream come true.”

You can feel Satoru’s cheerful grin against your cheek when he nuzzles into you. “My pretty girl at a loss for words again? I’m on a hot streak,” he teases. Twice now since the green house, he’s pretty proud of himself for that.

“You’re such a dork,” you grumble, your cheeks alight with heat, but your heart pounds in your chest. He never fails to find new ways to make you tumble and fall head over heels further in love with him, if that’s even possible. “What’s your dream, Toru?”

He kisses your cheek. “I’m living my dream.”

“C’mon,” you roll your eyes playfully.

To your surprise, his simpering demeanor sobers. “I’m serious. You know how I was raised.” His brow furrows slightly. “I never thought I would have the chance to do something like this.” His irises seem to swirl like galaxies under the vivid lights as he turns you slightly in his lap to meet your gaze. “This is all I could ever want.”

Your lips part again and you lean in, kissing him unhurriedly, embracing the languid nature of your vacation. After all, you have a lifetime of moments like these to enjoy with him. It’s all so domestic, so sugary sweet it threatens a cavity.

“I think I’d choose a beach next time, though.”

You smile against his lips.

“It’s cold and I have Infinity off so it’s also snowy.”

You giggle now against his lips. He follows suit, his chest rumbling.

“A beach it is.”

He leans in again, savoring the taste of your tongue when he swipes at your lower lip. You grant him access, enjoying the taste of the tea you’d had earlier lingering on him.

You suppose now that you have the opportunity to travel and take vacations, not to mention Satoru’s seemingly limitless sorcery money, you’ll have to tighten up your bucket list given you’ve now crossed off the only real thing of substance on it.

You already know the first item, anyway. A warm beach, somewhere sunny and tropical, with your boyfriend (shirtless, of course) dripping wet from spending time in the ocean.

Yeah, that sure sounds like a dream.

You hold back a giggle at the thought, smiling against Satoru’s lips.

“What’s up, love?” He tilts his head slightly as he catches the action, his eyes flickering open to give you a lidded stare.

“Thank you, for everything, Toru.”

“Mmm, I should be thanking you,” he hums, his eyes flashing a glorious green from the vibrant lights above.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, pretty girl.”

series masterlist || main masterlist || previous chapter || end ✓

a/n || WOW if you're reading this THANK YOU for reading my whole fic, it's been such a fun experience to not only write a completed fic but also to get to share it with all of you (who have been so kind and lovely, btw) and each and every single one of your comments make me SO happy ♡ i'm not even really sure what to say aside from thank you so much for reading and know that my inbox is always open, i love chatting with y'all

on that note i do wanna give a shoutout to all of the lovely people who have sent me some love whether that be via my asks, comments, or reblogs, know that i love you all and it means the world. shoutout as well to 🌻 anon, you are such a gem ♡

i have quite a few other long oneshots and short series planned, as well as some drabbles and a rockstar!gojo longfic so it'd mean the world if you gave me a follow and stuck around for those as well ♡ i've also got a very cute (in my humble opinion) sukuna oneshot that i'd love if you checked out if that interests you, link in my masterlist.

ANYWAY thank you and ily all ♡

[yourstru1y4ever]

Day 15 - "Are you jealous?"

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x F!Reader Word Count: 2.5k (WHOO) Content: Fluff, fighting a curse (no one gets severely injured :D), Gojo's past, Reader is Kaori's younger sister, somewhat canon compliant Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: Another taste of my upcoming series that I’m hoping to put out once I finish Tuna-Tober! I do some liberties from canon since we don’t know that much about Kaori before. . . y’know. . . Let me know if you want to be tagged in the series if you enjoyed this little preview! And as always be sure to like, reblog and comment if you'd want to see more! - Yours Truly

June 7, 2007

Apparently after the stunt you pulled during the Exchange Event a few weeks ago your sister’s clan reached out to her, accepting you both into the clan. You had to go back home to Sendai and deal with negotiations with her. They would never accept that Kaori married a human, not even capable of jujutsu, nor their son.

You talked to Yaga a few days ago and he agreed to let either Gojo or Geto take your missions for you while you were gone. As you step back into your house you remember the words Yaga mentioned.

A cursed object went missing in Sendai not long ago. We’re sending some sorcerers there but given you’re up for promotion, keep an eye out. 

“Auntie!!” Your nephew runs up to you as soon as you walk through the front door.

“Yuji!!” You match his excitement, kneeling down to pick him up. Once he’s in the air he’s giggling holding onto you.

“Goodness you’re getting so big now, I can barely. . .” You slowly drop to your knees dramatically, “Lift you up anymore. . .” You set him on the ground and collapse on the floor. Yuji keeps giggling at you and tries to turn you to your side.

“Come on, Auntie!” You keep your eyes closed, but you stick out your tongue like you’re dead. “I know you’re okay. Get up!!” He laughs and you can’t help but to smile along with him. You suddenly grab him, pulling him into a hug and you're both laughing.

You hear someone clear their throat and you look up to see Wasake, Kaori, and Jin looking down at the two of you. Yuji squirms out of your hold and runs up to his dad, his smile never waning.

“She’s home! She’s home!” Yuji tells him as you start to stand up.

“Welcome home.” Your sister says, her smile not reaching her eyes.

“Thank you,” You try to give her a reassuring smile back but she turns to Wasuke before she could notice.

“My sister and I have business to take care of tonight. Don’t worry about saving dinner for us, we won’t be home until late.” 

Wasuke gives her a tense look but nods his head.

“I understand. Jin, can you take her suitcase up to her room?”

“Of course,” Jin walks over and picks up your suitcase while holding Yuji in his other arm. “It’s nice to have you home.” He whispers to you.

“It’s nice to be back.” You reply.

Kaori crosses between you two and opens the front door, “Let’s go, it’s rude to keep our guests waiting.”

You straighten up and look towards Jin. He shrugs while Yuji gives you and Kaori a huge wave, “Bye Mommy! Bye Auntie!!”

“Goodbye sweetheart,”

“See ya kiddo!” You give him an enthusiastic wave back as you leave. Once the door closes the air suddenly feels tense. Kaori walks a few paces in front of you as you make sure you have everything on you.

You were meeting the clan head and a few members of their board to go over the negotiations so you were both dressed modestly, but nice. You were wearing a dress that Gojo had bought for you for your two month anniversary and heels that matched. The meeting place wasn’t far from your home so walking there wasn’t a pain.

Kaori stops in front of a house that’s behind a set of gates, and as soon as you're by her side she rings the buzzer. The gate doors swing open and you both walk side by side up to the front door. You bow your heads and when you bring your head up you see the clan head looking down at you both with a curiosity you haven’t seen before.

You keep your face straight as you make eye contact with him.

“So she’s the one with the inherited technique?” A voice asks from behind him, “My future wife?”

Your eyes widen and you look behind the Elder. A boy, possibly a year younger than you, gives you and Kaori a disgusted look as he crosses his arms behind him. He looks weak and pathetic, his hair slightly greasy and he looks like he hasn’t bathed himself in days.

“The girl with that ugly scar on her head?”

“No child, the younger one.” The clan head’s voice was rough and showed his age. 

“Your father might have had one too many whores, but at least this child was able to inherit our technique.” He gestures vaguely at you and your hand tightens into a fist. You try to center your breath so you don’t immediately fight these stupid-

“The eldest and I will have a conversation inside; Masamune,” The clan head points to the boy, “She’s your future wife, keep her safe.” The boy rolls his eyes and sighs walking down the steps and meets you face to face.

Kaori walks past the boy and sticks her tongue out behind his back, only for you to see.

You bring a hand up to cover your laugh, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. “What are you laughing at, wife?”

You grimace, “I’m not your wife, and I remembered something a friend of mine told me about clan meetings.” You can feel your phone buzzing in your pocket but you choose to ignore it.

“Oh and what was that?”

“To always skip them.”

Masamune scoffs, “Must be some fourth grade if she skips meetings.”

You hold back another laugh, “I wouldn't consider him a fourth grade sorcerer.”

“Him!?” He raises an eyebrow at you. “No, you’re not allowed to have any male friends if we’re going to be married.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re not getting married.” You state simply, trying not to let your phone ringing for the umpteenth time annoy you.

Before Masamune can reply a loud ringtone plays out from your pocket, willing itself to be heard.

“I’m sorry I have to take this.” You give him a fake smile and look down at your phone to see Nanami’s phone number lighting up the front. You flip it open, turning away from Masamune.

“This better be good.” You mutter into the phone.

“You’re in Sendai right?!” You overhear a loud crash over the speaker and someone yelling to Nanami.

“Yeah, why?”

You can barely hear Haibara ask, “Did she answer?” 

“We’re fighting a special grade curse- need your help. Gojo is on his way but you’ll get to us faster.”

“I- I can’t I. . . “ You look over at Masamune who’s giving you a frustrated look.

“Never mind, I can. Send me a pic of your location and I’ll be there soon.” You hear a loud crashing sound a few blocks away from you.

“Wait, are you nearing a forest?”

“Yes!”

Oh God. Instinct kicks in as you shut your phone closed.

“Hello?” Masamune calls out and you give him a look. 

“Can’t explain, special grade curse-” You turn and run out the gate running towards the street.

You’re standing in the middle of the road, eyes searching for the curse’s presence. At first, you're unable to feel anything but you suddenly hear a loud roar coming from a block away.

You look up to see a curse as big as a whale barreling down the street, jaws wide open to eat you. You can see Nanami and Haibara trailing not far behind it, calling out for you to move.

Your head tilts down slightly as you allow yourself to pool your cursed energy into your hands. You bring your hands in front of you. You can feel the pulse of the curse and something inside it.

“Cursed blood technique: convergence!” You yell out as purple liquid trails out of the curse and in front of you. Its blood wraps around your hands as you clasp them together, letting the blood form a laser focus. The curse splits in two right as it reaches you, its body falling to either side of you.

Once it’s completely down, you stumble forward, dropping your focus. 

“What the hell?!” You glance over at Masamune who is hiding behind the gate.

“Guys?” You yell out to Nanami and Haibara who are still running at you at full speed.

“It’s not-!” Nanami starts but it’s already too late. The curse is somehow reforming itself. . . you didn’t exorcize it yet.

“Shit.”

You run out of its way and it fully reforms itself, giving the three of you a murderous look.

“What kind of curse-?” You start.

“It’s like a hydra.” Haibara finishes. Nanami brings up his blade in front of you all.

“We need Satoru.”

“No shit,” Nanami mutters. The curse roars again and you all get ready for the fight.

“It’s a good thing I’m here then~”

Nanami looks behind him and gives Gojo an incredulous look. 

“Now’s not the time,” You tell Nanami. The curse throws its head back, a disgusting hacking sound coming out of its mouth, “All of you, I’m going to line up the shot; Nanami, you need to cut its head off;  Haibara, help me line it up, and Satoru?”

“Yeah Pretty?”

“Don’t destroy this street, my nephew lives down the road.” He gives you a smile before kissing you, “You got it, sweetheart.”

You hear Nanami gagging but there wasn’t any time to deal with the aftermath of your classmates learning that you and Gojo were officially dating. That can come once you all finish off the curse.

You and Haibara run in opposite directions, both trying to get the curse’s attention. Nanami and Gojo disappear from your vision but you soon hear a familiar whistle that you and Nanami came up with.

Once you’re far enough away from the curse, you turn to face it. Centering your focus on its body. You feel your cursed energy seeping out of you as you bring your hands in front of you once more, this time your right arm extending farther than your left. You focus on its heartbeat, the blood it has that keeps itself alive.

You’ve never controlled this level of curse before, but you had no time to worry if doing this would hurt you.

You tense your right hand and mutter, “Cursed blood manipulation: Marionette.”

The curse stills and its body contorts as you gain control of it. You only had a limited amount of time before you would lose consciousness. You turn your right hand slowly towards you and the curse turns on its left shoulder. You can feel it trying to fight against your technique but you hold out. Your right arm straightens out as your left hand goes in the opposite direction.

The curse’s head is a meter away from yours as its body lays flat against the street, your hands start wavering as it starts thrashing against your hold on it.

“Any day now!!” You yell out and suddenly Nanami slices through its neck, splitting it perfectly.

Before it has the chance to reattach its head, Gojo quickly walks through the path between the curse’s head and body, taking his hands across the wound, and cauterizing it with a very limited version of his technique reversal.

You drop down to your knees as you fight to stay awake.

“Hey hey, come on now sweetheart.” Satoru quickly appears at your side, bringing an arm around your torso, and helping you stand up. “We got an audience.”

You try to get your eyes to focus as you look up to see your sister looking at you with mild amusement, the clan head giving you an unamused look and Masamune’s mouth hanging agape.

Haibara runs over towards Nanami helping him up and they both walk over towards you and Gojo. 

“Thank you for the help,” Nanami says to you, “I don’t know why they sent us on this mission.”

You give Nanami a smile, glancing back at the curse’s body as it starts to disappear. “I think I know why it was a higher grade than you expected.” You nod in the direction of the object that it left behind. . . one of Sukana’s fingers.

Haibara quickly picks it up before anyone else can, “We better take this back to Jujutsu High.” 

Nanami takes out his phone to call one of the assistant supervisors, “We’ll be on our way, we’ll see you soon.” He says to you and you wave goodbye to him. You bring your attention back to Kaori who is starting to walk back home.

“We’re not joining their fucking clan.” She calls out.

“You were going to join their clan?” Satoru looks down at you and you avoid his gaze. “They had offered a lot of protection for my sister and her family.” 

“At what cost? If anything you should just marry me and bam you’re a Gojo and no one will fuck with either of us.” You push away from him, a blush creeping onto your face.

“Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean it, Satoru.”

“Wait! No, she's marrying me!” Masamune stomps over to you two. You give him a confused look, “I’m not even joining your clan asshole, fuck off.” You tell him, but he doesn’t falter. He keeps looking at Gojo waiting for an explanation.

“Are you jealous? She’s dating me, the Satoru Gojo, and not you, you pathetic piece of shit.” Gojo’s eyes flicker down at him, his face disgusted. “I should kill you right where you stand.” 

“Enough,” You try to sound serious but your smile is on Satoru's shoulder. Masamune looks like he’s about to shit himself and you can’t help but laugh at him. 

“Please forgive my son’s behavior Gojo,” The clan head’s voice rings out, “He doesn’t know his place.”

“Clearly.” Satoru snarks, “Let’s get you home sweetheart.” 

Within a blink, you’re suddenly in front of your house with Satoru, your hands on his chest. You look up at him and he gives you a soft smile.

“I meant what I said by the way. We should get married.”

You roll your eyes at him and lightly tap his chest, “Okay Toru, whatever you say.” You say sarcastically. He lets go of you reluctantly and you go to open the front door. 

Kaori arrives a few moments before Gojo leaves. She sees him kiss you for a few moments before disappearing in front of you. 

You and Kaori make eye contact as a blush reappears on your face, “We were just-!” 

“It’s okay, I think it’s sweet.” She tells you as she pats your shoulder. 

You were in for a lecture from Yaga once you returned to Jujutsu High since none of you put down a veil around the curse. It was worth it though since you got multiple recommendations for First Grade along with Nanami and Haibara after fighting that curse. Things are starting to look up for you guys.

[owliellder]

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: I've been late posting this entire series 😭. i explained a bit when anon asked, but i LOST my compression gloves and got a new pair relatively quick on top of my $200 medication 💔 my wallet is in shambles guys

ANYWAYS thank you all for sticking around and bearing with me!! i kiss and hug everyone!! even though i haven't responded to comments lately, i read every single one and it always makes me giggle ♥️♥️

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 5

The drive back to your university with your mom was excruciating. You hadn’t told anyone what’d happened which meant you had to keep a happy demeanor around them throughout the holidays up until now. Dread had settled in your stomach once the drive began and continued to spread the closer you got, similar to when you’re headed to the doctors or the dentist, just a million times worse.

Texting Ella and Sky had helped a surprising amount, turning the majority of your anxiety into rage. Ella was furious when she found out, so her fury, and Sky’s, quickly became yours.

They hyped you up, ready to be at your side and assist in tearing “that shitty fratfuck” to shreds. The support meant so much after everything, especially after the reality of it all set in; you’d seen the picture via snapchat from someone you didn’t know, so how many others had seen it?

Your worst fear was being seen as easy, being used like you were. But you weren’t, were you? Your friends had made sure to try and convince you otherwise, you had to give them that, yet even with the facts laid out in front of you, it was still hard to divert your thoughts away from that ever-looming self-doubt.

Seeing the campus come into view only served to solidify those thoughts and feelings. No matter what Sky and Ella had tried or are willing to do for you, it just wasn’t enough to fix what’s been done.

Your mom helped you bring your suitcase up to your dorm, giving you a tight hug and a kiss on the temple before saying goodbye and heading on her way. Playing okay around your family all winter break was exhausting, so you just chose to sit in silence on your bed instead of unpacking your stuff. Always prepared, you wanted to get here a few days early, using unpacking and settling back in as an excuse, when really you just needed time to collect yourself before the inevitable happened.

He was here, and you were sure he’d seek you out eventually once he spotted you, or maybe when one his friends did and the word made its way back to him. Whichever way it happened, you knew it’d be unfavorable. 

“Hey,” Ella’s voice from the doorway caught your attention, “you look miserable..” How hadn’t you heard the door open? 

“I am miserable, but uh.. let’s just pretend I’m not, okay?” You replied, barely cracking a smile as you glanced up at her. 

She gave you a weak laugh in return, letting the door close as she slowly sauntered over to you, plopping down right next to you on the edge of the bed. “Fine, yeah. You haven’t shown me your schedule yet, by the way.”

“Oh, right-” you paused to reach over and grab your bag, rifling through the various papers in there until finally pulling out the schedule you printed out a couple weeks back. “It’s mostly the classes that aren’t fun.” You stopped to look at your schedule for a brief moment before passing the paper over to Ella, who quickly snatched it from your hand.

She squinted dramatically, holding the paper only a couple inches away from her face. “Yeaaah, these aren’t the best. At least it looks like you’ll have the majority of your pre-reqs out of the way for next year though.” Her observation made you chuckle with a nod.

“Which is what I’m trying to do. Work myself to the bone now, chill out later.” 

“Don’t kill yourself trying to do everything in one fell swoop.”

“I promise I won’t Ella, this is just how I-” A knock on the door drew both yours and Ella’s attention away from each other, an immediate scowl settling on her face. You wanted to ask, but it seems she already knew what you were going to say, quickly shushing you in a hushed voice, “Sky won’t be here until tomorrow night. Don’t answer that.”

You paused, thought for a moment, then nodded once with pursed lips. Ella was a pretty serious person, the mom of the group you could say, so when she pulled that tone, you knew better than to test it. Besides, you didn’t want to see who or what was on the other side of the door, you needed more time.

The next day was a little better, if uneventful. You finally brought yourself to unpack your suitcase, a chance to reorganize everything since you’d gotten a few new things over the holidays. Ella stuck close, bringing food up and into your dorm to take advantage of the empty mini fridge while the two of you binge watched a few random movies.

You stayed cozied up in your bed, having already mapped out and memorized your walking path for each class; longer, less foot traffic to and from. All you had to do was get through the rest of this year, that’s all. Little extra walking never hurt anyone, right?

When classes actually started, the long and complicated walks actually worked for a time; no one gave you strange looks, no one tried to talk to you, and it was pretty quiet. Scenic. But everyone knows everything good must come to an end eventually, and of course it had to be when you were just starting to forget all of this mess.

He caught you between classes. Scenic walks backfired massively when you realized there wasn’t anyone else around on that part of campus. Guess you didn’t think this one all the way through.

You couldn’t help but notice he looked pretty roughed up, sporting a few bruises along his cheekbone, a split lip, and a healing black eye. Seems he’s been busy over winter break.

“Listen, please listen-” Leon pleaded, holding his hands out in a weak attempt to trap you in the hallway. All this did was make you even more uncomfortable. “I know what I did was wrong, but I was not the one who sent that picture around, I swear.” You just stood in place after a few tries to get around him, giving him an almost bored stare. He didn’t really expect to finally catch you, so he stumbled over his words as he continued to ramble.

“I-.. I’m so, so sorry for doing that to you,” he slowly lowered his hands back down to his sides once he was sure you’d stay to listen, “I know that what I did was terrible, and I mean it when I say that I am sorry. I wish there was a way to turn back time and undo it, but I can't. I can't even explain why I did it in the first place, but that's not an excuse. I just- I messed up big time and I was- am stupid for letting it happen.”

To you this seemed sincere, but you really couldn’t be sure and it was safe to assume it wasn’t. Leon managed to trick you for months, who’s to say this wasn’t a trick as well? 

Your look turned skeptical, crossing your arms tightly against your chest with a shaky breath. Despite handling this better than you thought you would, it was still nerve wracking having this kind of talk.

“I'm not good at this, but I'm more than willing to do whatever it takes to make things right, if that's even possible..” Leon breathed out, panting as he tried to catch his breath after talking so fast. “I managed to uh-.. to find everyone who had the picture and I made them delete it.”

“I made them delete the picture.” He repeated, taking another moment to breathe before suddenly looking down to yank something out of his pocket. “I-I got your uh-.. these-” 

Seeing him hold up your panties so casually made you gasp, immediately looking around the hallway to make sure it was still empty before shooting him a glare, whispering a harsh “Put them back! Put them back!” which made him scramble to hide them in his pocket again. 

“Right- right, sorry! Sorry…” Leon was sweating at this point, growing increasingly anxious under your gaze. He didn’t want to mess this up any further, but man he was doing a pretty shitty job at that right now.

His hands were shoved into his pockets as well, both of you blushing with embarrassment, and also shame on Leon’s part. Once he managed to slow his breathing, he started to talk again, a noticeable frown tugging at the corner of his lips. “You don’t.. have to forgive me or anything, I just wanted to make sure you knew that hardly anyone knows and-” His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed dryly, turning his head to the side to look at the wall, “.. and that I’m sorry. I really do like you, I guess I just took a little too long to realize it…”

You made another quick glance over your shoulder before looking back at the man trembling in front of you who was still avoiding your gaze. You wanted to hate him so bad, so bad, but it was hard when all you could see was the Leon who was so sweet, the Leon who let you cry to him when the weight of the world was on your shoulders and made you feel so wanted and loved.

“Can we-” you cleared your throat and pulled the strap of your backpack further up onto your shoulder, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Can we talk later, maybe? Like, in my dorm? I don’t want anyone overhearing any of this..”

Leon perked up when he heard you talk, pulling his hands from his pockets to nervously rake his fingers through his hair, which was now partially damp from the sweat beading off his forehead. “Oh- OH! Yeah, of- of course, yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t- I just needed to-”

You waved your hands in front of your chest, shutting him up so he didn’t spill any further. "And throw those away." He nodded silently, wiping a hand down his face until it settled right in front of his lips, probably knowing he was talking too much at this point. 

There was one more class you needed to go to that day, so you hurried off after telling him to wait outside your dorm until you were done, and he promised he would. Very adamantly, too. At least he held true to his words, standing in the hallway right in front of your dorm room like a lost puppy when you turned the corner. It was cute for a second, though annoyance quickly replaced that feeling as you walked over and let him in.

You weren’t exactly ready to have a full blown talk, but then again, no one ever was. What made it easier was your roommate never returned that semester, assuming she dropped out, so you basically had the whole dorm to yourself for the rest of the year. Or until someone had a roommate issue and needed a change. Didn’t really matter to you at that point.

There was really only one thing on your mind and that was getting Leon to explain this whole ordeal to you. You needed detail, clarification, anything to help you understand what’d been going on behind your back during that time. And he did, telling you just about everything he could; who suggested the bet, who roped him into the idea, the second guessings he had since the start, how he could’ve done literally anything else to avoid the way it all played out, everything.

Obviously you couldn’t just forgive him like that, even though he kept telling you how sorry he was and how terrible he felt about it. You wanted to forgive him, but you weren’t ready, and he understood that. He would’ve been satisfied with any response you gave him, so having been given the chance to really explain and have you listen was more than enough in his eyes.

“And just so you know, my friends aren’t going to let you off the hook,” you pulled your legs up so you were sitting criss-cross on the bed, looking across at Leon who was sitting on the bed opposite of yours.

“Yeah, I know..” he chuckled awkwardly, reaching a hand back to rub at the nape of his neck. “I was honestly expecting them to jump me, but they just give me evil looks whenever they see me.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, making a mental note to question Sky and Ella about that later. “You’ll never get nice looks from them again and I won’t be vouching for you.”

Leon nodded, silence blanketing the room as you’d finally run out of things to discuss. Though it was awkward, it was nice to have him hanging around again. “Anyways,” you started, standing up from your bed slowly as you vaguely gestured towards the door, “I need to study, sooo…”

“Oh, yeah, totally, uhm..” he followed suit, standing up from the other bed before sauntering over to the door as you held it open for him. He walked out and turned around almost instantly, a small smile suddenly appearing on his face once his eyes met yours, his arms jerking upwards slightly as if to suggest a hug.

“Don’t push it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

tags:

@kayotee4 @k-fallingstar @bobastayhigh @mi-zer-y @chasingkennedy @l30nva @espressonerd @jjouki @5tarx @bunnybreadloaves @whoisgami @cyanscribe @c4b3r1a @darichvep @mmmangel @kingtacocat @klee-iii @baby--vera @dakiniii @kenma-izhu @aliidarling @leonsmamacita @deadghxsty @nekoheist @dumbassmortal @cassiecasluciluce @iovewilliams @maeplayscello @deddiemunsonsblog @paranoid-but-android @mariesmain @tteokhwaa @bonnibuckets @eilonwykennedy @1dk-anym0r3 @papatyacikcik @animesnowstorm @lexi-zsy09 @mylifedoesntexist @ifeellikedying @yourmommylol04 @ravioli19 @dakiniii @papichulo120627

(few of your blogs won't pop up, i tried though 😩)

[ohdeerfully]

Hi,

I was wondering if I could request a story. Alastor x reader although they’re more friends at the beginning. And something thats probably not canon.

The reader is doing research for the hotel trying to find proof that souls can be redeemed. In her search she stumbles across newspaper archives about the Louisiana killer. Knowing that its Alastor she becomes interested and through more digging she discovers that his victims were actually all criminals ie rapists, drug dealers etc. She prints some of the info out (I don’t know why) and then back at the hotel she accidentally drops some of the papers and Alastor sees them. I’m not sure where to go from here, I want Alastor to get a bit angry but reader assures him that his secret is safe with them.

I know its long I’m sooorrry! Let me know what you think.

💙💙

heyyy!! thank u for the request sorry it took literal ages to touch...this short fic contains NO ROMANCE sorry alastor lovers. but i hope you still enjoy!

Silence Your Soul

Alastor x Reader (platonic) TW: nothing specific? alastor is a jerk but whos surprised. hazbin typical crimes

masterlist join my discord!

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After Charlie gave you a second chance at her hotel, saving you from the streets in the city of Pride, you were nothing but devoted to her cause. Offering her a hand in trying to prove that the damned can be forgiven and offered a spot in Heaven was the least you could do—although it wasn’t easy.

It was a late evening when you found yourself in an unkempt library at the edge of the city, only tended by a single employee that probably hasn’t seen a soul in weeks. Her excitement upon your arrival made you feel bad, seeing her nearly jump out of her chair as she greeted you made her loneliness awkwardly obvious. You exchanged pleasantries before meandering through the dusty aisles.

You had given yourself a challenge that you weren’t even sure was possible to complete; it seemed more so just busy work to keep you from getting bored at the hotel. Finding proof of redemption for one of Hell’s most prolific Overlords was crazy work, but you assumed if it was possible then virtually any other demon could be forgiven.

Fingers trailed over the spines of historical books and biographies, pursing your lips as you searched the overwhelming amount of titles at your disposal. As rundown as this library was, you would guess it had the inventory of hundreds of ordinary libraries you’d typically find while alive. It didn’t help that you really didn’t have a starting point—you had no clue if you’d even find anything written on Alastor. You only had a vague idea that he was a murderer in Louisiana.

By tedious preservation you eventually managed to find a biography very succinctly titled “Alastor - New Orleans Terror.” You clasped your hands together and raised it to the sky in relief before grabbing the dusty cover and bringing it to the front of the library. After a brief conversation and being asked to sign up for a library card—although more often than not books were never returned—you were on your way back to the hotel.

Charlie had provided you with a little office to do your work in, a small gesture as thanks for your dedication to her idea. You locked your office door and sat down at your desk, pulling a packet of sticky notes and a few pens closer before opening the biography on the resident Radio Demon.

A few hours later, around midnight, you decided to call it for the day with a hefty slam to the book cover. You pushed your chair away from the desk and stretched your arms above your head, bending your back over the head of the chair until a satisfying series of cracks went up your spine. You slumped back down and began to tidy up your area.

The book had a littering of tabs sticking out of the pages, numbered to follow the bullet pointed notes you wrote down on a few sheets of paper. You were pleasantly surprised with what you found out about Alastor, although now you weren’t sure how it would help Charlie’s case in proving all souls can be redeemed. Murder is bad, yes, undoubtedly, but a strong case could be made for Alastor regarding who and why he killed. His reasonings were rather… kind? Somehow? As kind as murder can be.

You tucked the loose pages into the back of the book, holding it firmly to keep all your notes contained. You clicked off your lamp, stood up, pushed your chair back under the desk, and left your office.

Investigators at the scenes of his murders always drew to a similar conclusion—his victims were often rapists, abusers, and two were even politicians with links to trafficking operations. Murder… could be forgiven in this case, right? Of course, Alastor is in Hell for a reason, he’s actually insane and extremely manipulative, but his reasonings for the actual crimes he committed were—

Your thoughts were cut off as you rounded the corner and full body slammed into the man of the hour himself. Shit, how did you not sense his presence? Or, better, how did he not sense yours?

The book in your hand flew almost comically a few paces away, pages scattering out and landing in a messy halo around the book. You took a few stumbling steps backwards, hand pressed against your nose, aching from the impact. Your eyes were blurred with pained tears as you lifted your gaze to Alastor’s smiling expression.

“Hey, shit, I’m sorry,” You said quickly, blinking the haze out of your eyes as you dropped your hand from your face. You began walking towards the book. “I should’ve been paying more attention.”

Alastor was faster, beating you to the mess with his much larger stride. “No worries at all, my dear!” He said all too cheerfully for it being the middle of the night. “Awareness goes both ways after all!”

He hummed as he bent over, swooping up the biography with his name plastered grandly on the front. His shit eating grin somehow doubled as he looked back at you, his long index finger tapping on the cover. 

“A fan?”

“Hardly,” You rolled your eyes, playing a bit coy to counter his confidence. “Just picked it up at the library. Since I work for Charlie I figured I could learn a bit about our more famous residents.” 

Your act didn’t seem to put a damper on his cheer as he briefly thumbed through the biography, but it didn’t take long for him to notice the numbered sticky notes. His red eyes casted towards you before looking down at the similarly numbered sheets of paper by his feet. You sucked in a breath before gritting your teeth. You could probably explain yourself through this if you thought fast enough. 

He knelt and gathered the pages, placing the book down so he could use both hands to shuffle through the papers. You waited, tense, as his eyes scanned your notes. As painfully quiet moments passed, you saw his brows furrow and grin grow tighter.

When he looked back at you, his expression remained calm, but you could tell by the harsher prickling of static on your skin that he was frustrated. 

“While I’m quite pleased to see someone so interested in my living affairs,” He said rather forcefully as he stood, papers still gripped tightly in one hand. “This extensive meddling is rather annoying. What was it they said about… that one curious cat?”

The air grew a bit dangerous with his words as his voice dripped with venomous radio static. You were frozen in place, thoughts flying in every possible direction for words to calm the Overlord.

“H-hey, I’m just working for Charlie, you know, like I said earlier,” Your explanation came in an embarrassing stutter. You figured you may as well just tell the truth, although leaving out the part that you chose to research him. Of course, maybe it would butter him up enough to let you go if you told him how interesting you found him and his previous life; you chose to keep your dignity for now.

“Well, I ask you to leave me out of it,” He responded quickly, and you knew he wasn’t really asking. You nodded feverishly, promising to obey and reaching for the papers in his hand. He tutted before moving his hand away.

“I assume you’ve dedicated quite some time to this research, no?” He mused, waving the stack of pages tantalizingly just out of your reach. You sighed in defeat, hand falling to your side. 

“Yeah, a bit,” You admitted, folding your arms. He laughed for a moment and then you saw a green aura emanate from his palm before a burst of flame consumed the papers. Your mouth twisted into a frown as you watched green-tipped embers of your hard work sizzle into nothing on the red carpet below.

“Well! Then that’s far too much sensitive information on my history, so better it to be gone,” He explained, patting his hands together to rid them of any remaining debris. His eyes then turned to the book, swiftly picking it back up.

“Such a fine piece of literature, really,” He sighed dreamily, theatrically tracing a finger over his own name. It almost made you sneer—what a self-absorbed prick. Then, that same green aura lit in his hand. “Shame it has to go.”

“Wait, wait, wait, that’s not mine, I need to give it back to—” A whoosh of bright flame cut off your pleas, and you groaned in aggravation as shards of the book crumpled by his feet. You watched in helpless defeat as Alastor burned any remaining bridges to his living history. Perhaps that book managed to slip under his nose all these years as he built up his title as an Overlord. Now you had the awkward chore of trying to explain to the librarian why you can’t return her book.

“So…” Shit, that ominous tone in his voice was back as he met your gaze. You couldn’t handle the eye contact, so you swiftly looked to the side, down the hall, in meager hopes that anybody could interrupt this scene and save your sorry ass.

“All that remains, my dear, is you,” He stepped closer, and you similarly stepped backwards. The air in the room suddenly felt too heavy, the lighting too dark. Were you crazy, or were the shadows in the corners stretching towards you?

“I can’t have you running around Hell, whispering my secrets into the ears of the unworthy majority, right? No… that wouldn’t do at all,” Another step forward from him, another back for you. This continued for a few steps before your back hit a wall, sending a freezing chill down your spine. You knew running would only enhance his drive to strike you down, so you remained stuck in place. 

The antlers on his head seemed to expand and grow sharper as he reached a hand towards you. You squeezed your eyes shut and grit your teeth. If anything, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing your screams. 

The burn of flames never touched your skin, nor did the sting of tearing flesh. You cracked open your eyes, and saw that his arm hovered only a foot away from you, palm turned upwards. His piercing red eyes bore into your own, never leaving even when you struggled to meet his gaze.

“Unfortunately for me, maybe fortunately for you, Charlie is very fond of you,” He sighed dramatically. “But, still, I can’t have you walking freely around knowing what you know. You are now the last source of my history. So…”

His hand nudged, regaining your attention. You swallowed a lump in your throat, adrenaline still pumping through your entire body and creating an uncomfortable pounding in your head.

“My soul..?” 

Alastor’s eyes rolled before his grin curled maliciously. “Well, obviously, how else will I keep you from opening that mouth of yours?”

Your fingers instinctively reached towards your chest, toying with the fabric of your shirt. Was it really worth it?

“I don’t know how much of an incentive you need here, my dear,” He laughed, although his tone gave away his slight impatience. “You give me your soul and your silence, and I give you… your pitiful life. Hm. Sounds fair to me!” 

You chewed on your cheek. Man, fuck it, you didn’t really want to risk finding out if Charlie’s friendship was truly enough to keep Alastor from killing you. Your hand shot forward before you could give yourself any more time to ponder—or, any more time for Alastor to lose his patience and change his mind. 

As soon as your hand folded around his, a near blinding flash of green light forced your eyes shut as you turned your head away, a squealing and staticy noise filling your ears as you felt a heavy pressure on your neck and a lightness in your chest. In a brief moment, the room fell silent again and Alastor yanked his hand from yours.

You slowly opened your eyes again, timidly looking towards him. You didn’t really have any words at this point, only a sense of loss you couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“There, all settled,” He spoke cheerfully, a complete contradiction of his actions just seconds prior. “Have a goodnight.”

Without another glance, he turned heel and walked away, a light hum playing from his lips. You stood there, staring aimlessly down the hallway and then down at the carpet where blackened ashes of his history stood.

Honestly, right now you were just grateful you weren’t a part of the pile.

[hugmekenobi]

S3: The Bad Batch (11)

Chapter Eleven: Point of No Return

Gif by @moonstrider9904

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.

Chapter Summary: The Empire closes in on you and the Batch

Masterlist for S1 and S2

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, threats, food mentions, flash of PDA and fluff in the beginning, referenced character death, rip a certain ship :(, self-blame, brief injury mention, humour as a tool for deflection, overall angsty vibes

Word Count: 4.2K

Author's notes: Still sticking very close to the episode here but hope it's still enjoyable and episode 12 is in progress!!

Getting into the pirate’s ship had been all too easy. He wasn’t going to fail this time. CX-2 decrypted the coordinates before he put the transmission for Scorch through, “The Trandoshan’s intel paid off. I tracked the pirate and accessed her navicomputer. She tried to cover her tracks but I broke the encryption.”

“What did you find?”

“She frequented a planet in the Outer Rim. I’m headed there now to do recon.”

“Send the coordinates. I’ll have a full division on standby if you require a visual on the targets.” Scorch provided before he signed off.

CX-2 entered the coordinates for Pabu.

--

“That’s gotta be all of it, right?” Wrecker asked in disbelief as he saw the three of you approach and unload the next round of supplies.

“We still need to grab the rations.” Hunter told him. “Keep loading up the ship. We’ll be back.”

Wrecker groaned, “Fine. But at least bring me back an ice cone.”

“Just one?” You questioned with an enticing grin as you walked backwards away from him and the ship.

“No, no, no. You’re right! M-Make it two!” Wrecker corrected his error.

You gave a two-fingered salute in reply before you turned around and jogged to catch up with Hunter and Crosshair.

--

“I wish you didn’t have to leave.” Lyana said lowly as she led Omega through the Archium.

“Me too, but Hunter thinks it’s safer for everyone if we do.”

Lyana led her over to a gap in one of the ledges. “What do you think of this spot?”

“It’s perfect.” Omega said with a thankful smile.

“So, which treasures did you bring?” Lyana asked, her tone curious but respectful of what this moment meant to those that left things here and Omega would not be treated differently.

Omega tucked Lula under her arm and brought out Tech’s cracked goggles. She held them delicately in her hands as she let the memories that they brought wash over her.

“You sure you wanna leave these behind?” Lyana double checked gently.

“Pabu was the first place that felt like a home.” Omega placed both objects down with the utmost care. “This way, a piece of us is still here.”

Lyana laid a supportive hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Well, I’ll make sure these stay safe until you come back.” She looked at Omega with a new type of seriousness. “Because you will come back, right?”

“I hope so.” Omega replied, the harsh reality of the day quickly catching up to her as she realised this would be the last time she would see her for a while.

--

“And where are you going?” Hunter asked with a questioning smile and tilt of his head as you separated from them. “We’ve got rations to get.”

You feigned disgust at the very idea. “Hey, I have the very important ice-cone mission. I cannot be diverted with a mere ration run.” You said with a coy grin before you pressed a swift kiss to Hunter’s cheek and sauntered off with exaggerated determination.

“Get that lovesick smile of your face before I throw up.” Crosshair snickered with a roll of his eyes as he saw the way Hunter watched you go.

“Shut up.” Hunter shoved his brother’s shoulder before they carried on with their own search.

--

“I don’t even think there’s room on this ship for all this gear.” Wrecker complained to Gonky as he saw all that was still to be shifted and he knew there was still more to come. However, Gonky’s cheeky honks of reply were not the commiseration he was looking for. “Oh, yeah? Well, maybe I should leave you behind.” He retorted, smirking at the offended honks he got in response.

Wrecker brought more of the stuff on board, completely unaware that the proximity sensor had been flashing a half second before.

--

CX-2 landed the ship in the cavern and began his hunt.

--

Hunter paused as he heard the nervous squeaking on the island birds, their tone matching his own growing sense of unease.

“What is it?” Crosshair asked.

“Not sure, but I don’t like it.” Hunter brought out his comm. “Omega, time to go.”

Upon hearing that, you gave up your spot in line and joined up with Hunter and Crosshair. You’d make it up to Wrecker another time.

--

CX-2 scanned the bustling market stalls from above and that was when he caught sight of the two clones and the targets he’d been sent to acquire. He touched the control panel on his sleeve and got Scorch on his comm.

“Report.” Scorch demanded.

“I’ve got eyes on the targets.”

“Ground them and wait for the division. They must be recovered unharmed. No mistakes this time.”

“And the clones they’re with?” He asked as he saw the group of you leaving the area.

“If they get in your way, eliminate them.”

--

“We’re sorry to see you go, but you’re all welcome here anytime.” Shep said sincerely. “Those homes will be waiting for you when you get back.”

You bowed your head in gratitude.

“Thanks for everything, Shep.” Hunter said, shaking his hand.

Omega and Lyana shared in a hug.

“I’ll see you soon.” Lyana said as she parted from Omega.

The four of you and Batcher started to make your way back to Wrecker.

--

The sun had almost set by the time Wrecker finished getting the most recent batch of supplies onto the ship, but he just took relief in the fact that he wouldn’t be alone in shifting the next round of gear.

As he went to grab the last crate, he paused on the steps as he picked up on a faint but rapid series of beeps.

He recognised the sound.

He knew exactly what that meant.

He reacted quickly and with a shout, he abandoned the ship and grabbed Gonky just as the Marauder exploded, hurling both of them into the sea.

With the last of his strength, he managed to pull himself onto a piece of debris before his vision went dark.

--

Upon hearing the harsh echoing boom of an explosion, you all instantly ran to the edge of Upper Pabu and your heart thumped in a frantic panic as you saw the distant flames and charred remnants of what was once the Marauder.

Hunter brought out his binoculars and took in the scene. He saw Wrecker and Gonky floating in the water and felt his own panic set in at seeing his brother unconscious. He put on his helmet and started running for the docks.

You did the same with your coverings and Crosshair put on his helmet before the three of you followed close behind.

--

One of the locals had grabbed a boat and brought Wrecker and Gonky back to port.

You pushed your way through the crowd of people and stopped short as you saw Wrecker’s body.

Omega knelt down by Wrecker’s side. “Wrecker? Wrecker!” Omega gasped, desperately shaking his shoulders to try and rouse him but it did no good.

Your stomach dropped to your feet. It took all the training you had to not lose control upon seeing the lack of response from Wrecker. He was strong, he was always so strong. He had to be alright.

“Mox and Stak, take Wrecker to Shep’s. Deke, get Az-3 to patch him up, and fast.” Hunter ordered the regs. He needed his brother back on his feet. He needed him to be okay.

“Ships don’t just blow up. We’ve been compromised.” Crosshair realised.

Hunter turned his head from Wrecker to the sound of a deep rumbling from above and what he saw sent both a deep anger and dread through his veins. The Imperial Star Destroyer hovered above the Archium and a series of gunships swarmed down. “Everyone, get to cover!”

Amidst the crowds of panicked and screaming people, the four of you regrouped and found cover of your own.

--

Shep was helpless to stop the hordes stormtroopers from moving in. He could only watch in despair as his people ran in fear.

--

“Cut off all escape routes. Destroy any ships or sea skiffs in sight.” CX-2 ordered as he remained unphased by the chaos around him. It wouldn’t affect what he needed to achieve; it would only help.

--

You and Omega both paused as you saw the destruction the Empire was causing to the docks.

The only light in the night were the fires caused by the Imperial gunfire.

The only sounds the whirr of gunship and cried of fear that echoed around the island.

Kamino, the Marauder, Pabu… How many more homes was the Empire going to take from you?

From these innocent people?

And how much longer could you let it go on?

A glance down at Omega told you she was thinking similarly to you. You indicated your head back and you both joined the others in an alleyway.

“Is this our fault? Are they attacking because of us?” Omega whispered up at you as she kept Batcher calm.

You wished with every fibre of your being that you could tell her no. That they were the ones at fault but the own guilt residing in your heart made the words die before they left your lips. How could you reassure her when you couldn’t believe the words yourself? It was never meant to go this way. The very thing you had wanted to avoid had happened and now you knew there was only one real way out of it.

Hunter crouched down. “It’s the Empire’s fault. Not yours. You have to stay focused. Both of you.” He implored with a helmeted look in your direction too.

“They’re destroying all means of escape and jamming our comms.” Crosshair said as he tried his comm, but it was only static. “We have to steal one of their gunships. Once we’re out of range, we can contact Echo.”

“I’ll handle it.” Hunter said. “You three, get to Shep’s and wait with Wrecker until I signal you.”

You caught his vambrace and pulled him back to you. You pressed your forehead against his helmet.

Hunter had a distinct and sinking feeling that this was you saying goodbye, but he wasn’t going to let that be the case- this plan would work… it- it had to. “I’ll see you soon.” He said as he stepped away.

You couldn’t quite meet his helmeted gaze as you nodded before you, Omega and Batcher split from him to head to Shep’s.

Hunter gave Crosshair a last meaningful look before he went in the opposite direction.

Crosshair knew what that look meant- keep them safe. And he would do everything in his power to do that. He followed you and Omega.

--

“Lock down the town. Search every domicile until you find them.” CX-2 ordered the squadrons of troopers.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Shep demanded as he approached the black-armoured soldier that seemed intent on ruining the lives of so many people.

“Who are you?” CX-2 replied with equal parts disdain and curiosity.

“The mayor of this town. You’ve opened fire on my village and its people without warning and without reason. Under what pretence are you attacking?” Shep seethed.

“We’re here to collect some fugitives you’ve been harbouring.” CX-2 brought out the puck and flashed the two images.

Shep made sure to keep his true reaction at bay- he wouldn’t give you and Omega away if he could help it. “You can’t just barge in here-”

“I’ve barely done anything yet.” CX-2 interrupted coldly.

“You destroyed our docks and fishing skiffs. Our livelihood.”

“I have simply cut off their means of escape. But I can do worse. I know they are here. Until they are turned over to me, your island will burn.” CX-2 threatened as he walked away.

--

The path to Shep’s had been fraught with troopers and each time like this where you had to hide from the next roaming patrol only slowed things down more.

You peered round the corner of your hiding spot to see one of the villagers being forced out of her home and you heard her distressed plea.

“You can’t do this! It’s our home!”

You were fighting the urge to go out and it seemed Batcher also shared in your current sentiment as Omega was doing her best to keep the dog quiet and calm.

And the cruel reply from the trooper that you heard next only confirmed what you already dreaded.

“We know they’re here! Where are the Jedi and the girl?”

“I don’t know! I swear-”

The familiar sound of a slap made your blood boil. You went to reveal yourself to stop them but Crosshair’s hand on your arm prevented you from doing so.

Omega couldn’t hold Batcher back though. The dog snarled and charged for the soldiers before they could do anymore harm.

“Batcher can handle herself. Let’s go.” Crosshair said to you both as he made sure Omega didn’t go to follow the dog either.

--

You had managed to scale the wall up to Shep’s and opened the door.

“Lyana!” Omega said with a relieved gasp.

“Omega! My-My dad, he said to hide here.” Lyana said fearfully. She ran up to her friend and hugged her tight, “I’m so scared.”

“I know. I’m so sorry.” Omega replied as she parted from her.

You and Crosshair took off your coverings as you saw AZ attending to Wrecker.

“How’s Wrecker, AZ?” You asked.

“He is still unconscious, but his vitals are stable.”

You allowed yourself to feel some semblance of relief at that, but you hastily pushed it to one side as you heard another gunships sound outside.

The three of you ran back out to take in what was happening and what you saw made your chest tighten and curl your fists in rage- stormtroopers were everywhere, removing people from their homes, tossing them to the ground, arresting them. It was unnecessarily cruel, and it was all because you were still here.

--

Getting onto the gunship had started out as a stealth mission but quickly became one where Hunter just had to get inside without getting shot.

He’d managed to do so but the pilot was making his life extremely difficult with erratic flying designed to fling him out. He had to take a tight grasp of the handles inside to remain upright.

--

Something else then caught your attention as you saw the unstable and irregular flying patterns of an Imperial gunship and a whole different kind of emotion swept through you. You knew the exact cause of that particular situation, but you were not reassured by the sight in the slightest.

“Is that, Hunter?” Omega asked both you and Crosshair as she noticed the ship in the air.

“Yes.” You said through clenched teeth.

“Uh huh.” Crosshair echoed nonchalantly.

But then, something shifted, there was a blaster shot and vessel nosedived down towards the sea in a way that showed that neither Hunter nor the pilot was in charge of the ship anymore.

A strained breath caught in your throat as you watched the ship plummet into the sea. “Where- where is he?” You choked out as you saw Crosshair grab his macrobinoculars.

Crosshair scanned the water anxiously but let out a relieved sigh as he saw his brother resurface and swim for the shore. “He’s fine.”

You bent forwards as you braced your hands on the wall and let out a slow calming breath before the distant sound of comm chatter reminded you of your current situation.

“He’s safer than we are at the moment.” Crosshair hissed as the three of you retreated back inside Shep’s.

--

“What do we do? Troopers will be here soon.” Omega asked anxiously.

“Hunter would want us to stick to the plan.” Crosshair replied, internally scrambling to think of a way out of this.

“There’s no hiding, Crosshair. The Empire knows we’re here. They won’t stop searching until they find us!”

Whilst they were talking, you were coming up with a plan of your own. If you handed yourself in and convinced them that you’d already shipped Omega off-world, then maybe they’d leave Pabu and the rest of them alive and in peace.

You glanced between Wrecker and Lyana and the door. You took a calming breath as you came to terms with what you had to do but a squeeze of your hand brought your eyes downwards. No. You said as you saw her nod at you.  

“You promised.” Omega reminded you.

This is different, Omega. It’s not a choice you should need to make. It-

“You’re going, I know you are!” Omega interrupted. “But that won’t be enough, they’re here for me too! They won’t stop and you know it. It is my choice!”

Crosshair clued in and realised what the two of you were arguing about. “Absolutely not.”

“It’s our only option, Crosshair.” You said heavily.

“What? No, it’s not. We-”

“Look at what they’ve already done.” You said, a flash of anger coming through. “We can’t let the people here suffer any more because of us. That’s why we were leaving in the first place- to avoid this. We can’t let it carry on. We just can’t.” I’m not risking anyone else. Wrecker already got hurt, I’m not risking you and I’m not risking Hunter. If I could help it, Omega wouldn’t be coming but I can’t and it kills me that I can’t, but it’s how it has to be.

Crosshair went to respond to you, but Omega got in first, “If we let them take us, it stops.” She emphasised.

Crosshair focused on the young girl, distress in his voice. “You’ll be taken back to Tantiss.”

“Exactly. We’ve been trying to find those coordinates, and nothing’s worked. But if we keep our comms on us, and turn ourselves in, you can track us to Tantiss. This is our chance. Our chance to finally rescue the clones imprisoned there.”

“No. They’ll search you and find it. It won’t work.” Crosshair argued.

“Then shoot a secondary tracker onto the ship that they take us away on.” You suggested.

“Too many unknown variables. It’s not a viable plan.”

“It’s all we’ve got.” You countered.

“And it’s our choice.” Omega reminded him again.

Crosshair looked imploringly in your direction now. “Tantiss is different. This isn’t some random Imperial that’ll take you this time. It’ll be Hemlock. Who knows what he’ll do to you there.”

You also saw a genuine fear behind his eyes, and it unnerved you. It won’t be for long, I’ll be alright. “Focus on the bigger mission, Crosshair.” You said aloud and you came to stand behind Omega and rested your hands on her shoulders.

“Yeah, we’re just a small part of it.” Omega agreed.

Crosshair found himself in a position where he was forced to reflect on that, and he had to agree with you both.

--

The two of you got ready to depart but you noticed the reluctance that still graced Crosshair’s face and you approached him.

“He’s going to kill me.” Crosshair said to you quietly.

So, tell him he was right that Hemlock was after me too, that outta smooth things over.

“It’s not funny.” Crosshair snapped. He didn’t want to lose you both either. Not when he knew how important you both were to Hunter, to this squad�� to this family. He’d finally made ground with you, you were one of them, you always had been, and he’d welcomed that feeling again. And Omega, well, Omega had seen and been through it all with him already, he owed her much more than a half-baked rescue plan.

Yeah sorry, it’s a bad habit. You went serious again and shook your head. “He’s not going to do that, Crosshair. Six months ago, maybe he would’ve, but not now. He’s not going to lose the progress he’s built with you either, not anymore. He’ll understand.” You glanced back to Omega who was standing by the door and regret stabbed your heart over the fact that this was to be her fate too, but you also knew that she wouldn’t have it any other way. “We’re very stubborn and determined individuals.” You said fondly before you looked back at him and placed a reassuring hand on his upper arm. “Just don’t miss.” You said with a light but resigned smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

With that, you and Omega exited the hut.

--

You caught Omega’s shoulder just before you rounded the corner to make yourselves known. You crouched down to her eye-level. “Omega… you know if there was any other option that I could think of that would get us- particularly you- out of this, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

Omega nodded. “I know, but it’s what we have to do.” She said bravely.

Your heart broke a little bit more right then and there- this was something no kid should ever have to do, “You had to grow up far too fast.” You murmured, both with sadness and a hint of pride in your voice as you gave her a loving hug before the two of you stepped out of your hiding spot.

--

“Stop.”

CX-2 signalled the troopers with the flamethrowers to disengage as he heard the voice of a woman.

“We surrender.” Omega said as all eyes, both Imperial and Pabu civilians turned in your direction.

“Stay alert. I neutralised the other two clones with them, but not the third.” CX-2 advised as he approached you two.

“Take us and leave the island alone.” You said as you held your wrists out.

“The people here are innocent.” Omega did the same thing as you.

CX-2 first put the cuffs on the young girl, “Then you never should have come here in the first place.”

“I’m assuming these are the special cuffs made just for me?” You said dully as the operative attached a second pair to your wrists, and you noticed the slightly different design of them compared to Omega’s.

“Why don’t you try them and find out?”

The harsh modulated voice sent a cold shiver of fear down your spine, but you covered it up. “Nah, you seem like someone who is on top of things, so I’ll take your word for it.” You were determined to not flinch under the unwavering glare of his helmet.

“Scan them for tracking devices.” CX-2 ordered as he confiscated your knife and Jedi weapon.

As expected, the comm devices were picked up immediately.

“Give them to me.” CX-2 demanded.

You and Omega reluctantly handed them over before you were both shoved and made to walk between the squadron of troopers as they got ready to transport you off the planet.

--

Crosshair had watched the surrender take place and had been stealthily tracking and making his way to a vantage point where he could tag the ship that you were to be taken away on.

--

Hunter staggered to shore and collapsed to his hands and knees.

He felt the water seeping through the gaps in his armour, weighing him down, and it was choking him beneath his helmet.

He removed it and took a few recovering breaths before he became alert to the sound of rustling just ahead of him. He instantly got to his feet and guardedly drew his blaster as he waited for the threat to show.

But he was able to relax his stance as Batcher came into view and ran over to him with a happy bark. He bent down and rubbed her side with a slight grin before he glanced up at the Archium and the rest of the island, but he didn’t see as many ships anymore.

And the realisation at what was about to happen hit him harder than he had hit the water.

Hunter grabbed his helmet and started running back, Batcher close at his heels.

--

You swallowed thickly as you and Omega were marched to the docks and forced to walk past the wreckage of both the sea skiffs and the Marauder.

CX-2 tapped the band on his arm and his ship came flying to meet the three of you.

You and Omega paused before boarding but an insistent jab of the butt of the operative’s rifle prompted you both to step up.

--

Crosshair got into position and readied himself to take the shot when the flashlight hit him.

“Over there!”

He fired back at the small squad of troopers that had found him and dealt with them as quickly as he could, but the interruption had moved him out of the prime position.

He had to run for it.

His gait was rushed.

His aim unsteady.

But there was no more time.

The ship’s engines were powering up.

He had no choice but to fire.

The ship took off.

His tracker missed.

And he could only look on in complete and utter dismay and horror as the ship flew out of view.

--

“Targets acquired. Returning to base.” CX-2 transmitted before he put the ship into hyperspace.

You and Omega sat side by side on the metal floor.

Omega took off her hat and leaned against your shoulder. “We’ll have each other there.” She murmured, doing her best to keep her voice composed.

“Yeah, we’ll be okay.” You whispered back.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @arctrooper69, @dominoeffectsworld, @andreaaxy, @notgonnaedit, @nightmonkeysstuff , @jellybeanstacey0519 @callsign-denmark @allthingsimagines, @superbookishhufflepuff

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

70 - Conflicting Boundaries and Ties

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 21.3k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, flashback scene, past character death, blood and violence, disturbing imagery, references to infant death, self harm, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, over stimulation, blindfolds, bondage

Notes: No I don't know why this chapter is so bloody long, don't ask why. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

It felt normal, everyone sat where they always did and food piled onto their plates without thought. A few seemed to be missing, but most of which always made their way a bit later to give the rest of them a chance to both wake up and for the youngest to get their early morning energy out of their system. Multiple times Arya had to turn to Bran and fix how he was holding his cutlery, his small hand holding each utensil with a closed fist and letting it stab down at his plate, his young mind not grasping why food wouldn’t stick when he did it. Only a year older, Arya had a good handle on bringing her little brother up to speed. Sansa kept eyeing Arya with a suspicious look, but also one with a wondering in mischief that wasn’t often seen on her face.

Across the table from them, Jon sat beside Robb hoping that his nerves did not come off of his person whatsoever. He looked more tired then usual, but the previous nights known activities could explain that. Nudging his brother in the side, Robb was the first to bring the more unusual missing person up as he gestured with a nod to the seat normally you took beside Sansa. “I’ve never seen her this late. What did you leave her out in the woods?”

If he played everything off as normal, it seemed as if his brother bought it when he shrugged one shoulder. Half finding his words through bites as if to cover up whatever would’ve come out in his speech. “If I never found her maybe.”

He felt lucky, Robb taking it much more playful then Jon knew it really was. “Didn’t think she’d be one to take losing so harshly.” Jon only jesting that maybe you were afraid they’d tease you for it right away, a grin shared between both brothers as Robb only muttered, “Well, we would.”

Jon could thank the gods no one could hear his heart by the time you made your way into the dining hall, otherwise they’d worry he was about to die, even if he felt like it anyways.

Nothing looked out of place, you had dried from the rain of the night before and your dress was different as if it wouldn’t be the next day, but Jon thought he hated it. The image burned into his mind was of last night, how you looked with the rain soaking your hair that it stuck to where it touched your neck, how it all drenched your dress and even though you had been dressed in more leathers for so much time outdoors, what soft fabrics covered you still had clung to you.

Swallowing roughly whatever of his food he had been chewing, he tried not to think back to the way as you heaved to catch your breath looking up at him, the way he had almost noticed for the first time just how much mature your body had changed to be almost without him noticing. You always covered up so modestly, that until your clothes stuck to you in the rain did Jons eyes, without you even noticing, tear down to your chest as you breathed heavily, the thought of whether or not they’d fit perfectly for his hands, but he dared not make any move like that.

Here as you walked in, you were innocent. Hair mostly pulled back save for loose strands you always liked to lay at the sides of your face, the braids done behind your back in a fashion he’d only ever seen on you before. Something you once told him was a sort of style that was common amongst women from the Stormlands, a complete contrast to the night before where your hair had fallen loose around you. If he curled his hand into a fist perhaps Jon could still feel the way the strands were soft and soaked between his fingers. Your dress long and warm this time, hiding away much of what men would describe as the body of a woman.

It drove Jon mad sitting there as all traces of the night before were nowhere on you, and how normal and calm you appeared without even glancing at him. Not even in an avoiding manner, as if you continued your day now as if nothing happened. No one noticed how tightly Jon held the fork in his hand to the point his knuckles turned white looking at you.

Instead of taking your seat, you found your way behind both girls, crouching down with raised eyebrows as you muttered between them. Not enough for no one else to hear, but quiet enough to indicate you only meant to speak to them. “Now, either you can both come with me. Or, we can wait until your mother comes down and all four of us can have a long chat with Septa Mordane and get to the bottom of this.”

Just as Arya tried to protest that it was Sansa’s fault, did Sansa protest that she didn’t do anything and it made both Robb and Jon smile at how little your knowing expression changed. Both turned to look at you, and that time Sansa at only six, tried very hard to act as calm and mature as you despite the blatant look of fear in her eyes of disappointing you. “I only did it because Arya did it to me first.”

It was lost on her that she sounded exactly like the small girl she was and not anywhere near as mature as you were almost ten years her senior. Tilting your head you only looked at her until her own gaze dropped with guilt, turning then to Arya. Jon knew whatever it was his sisters had done, you’d give Arya a little more slack considering she was only four, which her answer matched that. “I did not-” Sansa only snapping back that she did, and Arya cutting back in with a louder, “Prove it.”

A smirk, you pushed up to your full height before taking the matter out of their hands. Picking up Arya with ease at her size, you plucked her down onto her feet before half turning to look back at Sansa. “Either we handle this now with just myself, or your mother and Septa will determine what punishment is suitable.”

Both hands nudging the girls out of the room, if it were any normal day Jon wouldn’t have considered anything that you said nothing to him. But still, his heart pounded as he sat there with narrowing eyes watching where you were no longer in sight. You seemed calm and normal about this though, nothing like you were upset or mad or different in any way. Maybe that was a better sign then anything else.

No one knew, and neither of you gave away that there was anything to know. It made his day easier to get through. One thing, then the next, only sometimes did you make an appearance throughout Jons day spent mostly him with Robb, but normally you’d only show up with Theon in toe. No one in Winterfell thought you were acting different, and it made Jon relax immensely. No one treated him as if he were acting different.

By the time evening fell over the sky, Jon walked back to his chambers considering if he were hungry enough to even think about joining everyone for supper. The thought was rather boyish, but that if you were going to be there, he might find worth in it after all. Maybe he’d change through first. Take off his heaviest layers, wash up as if you needed impressing.

He didn’t notice until he already closed the door. The nervous figure standing in the middle of his room, hands wringing together in front of them with wide eyes and a matching expression that told him there was nothing but gut wrenching anxiety behind it all. Gently calling your name in question, you nearly turned to him with a startled gasp. As if you stood there nothing but nerves, and nothing like the normal girl you were during the day.

Opening and closing your mouth, he could see that the manner of yourself in the day was nothing but a facade. One falling apart before him as he stood there, but the moment he took a step towards you did you take two away, turning from him somewhat. Your voice soft but a stammer. “I- I came to apologize.”

Face twisting in confusion right away, Jon took a hesitant step towards you even when you weren’t looking. “Apologize?” You didn’t look at him as you nodded, just wrapped the shall around your arms over you more as if to hide away. Turning to attempt to glance back at him but never fully committing as you looked to nothing. “Apologize for what?”

Your brows furrowed, turning to him in your own frustrated confusion. “What do you mean for what?”

For a moment, both of you stood there. Feet from each other feeling as if it were miles. Both too afraid to approach as if it would spook the other, but really the only one at risk with such emotions were you. Something wide and almost shining behind your eyes that looked as if one wrong misstep here and he’d pull tears from you. Which spoke to him that something more serious was going on in your head. You never cried. Or, you never wanted to cry in front of anyone.

Tilting his head to implore you to give him something to go off of, you bit down on your tongue as you looked away only to inhale before speaking. Still not looking back at him. “For last night. I-” As you cut yourself off, Jon felt something twist in his stomach.

This couldn’t happen. Not now, not so soon. He’d never been happier then he was last night and it was all about to be for nothing. Jon was sure, he wouldn’t have done it if he wasn’t sure. He knew it, he felt it, but now his own heart pounded painfully unsure if he read it wrong, and what that meant for your friendship going forward. The fear flowing through his blood that he had ruined everything.

Looking back at him though, something soft and vulnerable was on your face but the expression was strange as it tinted in shame and guilt. But not a judgmental one, a personal one, an upsetting one. “I should never have done what I did last night. When we..it was wrong, it was inappropriate, and I know I never should’ve put you in that situation.”

Jon took another step closer, now that fear turned to pure confusion. “You didn’t do anything wrong-”

“I did, Jon.” A raise in your voice lowered, looking around the room as if terrified everyone in the castle could hear you yelling before turning to mostly a mutter only he could hear. “I know better then that. Not to...” Repeating you, as not to what, trying to prompt you into being honest. Jon felt confused about what you were really trying to say now, but hearing it out loud hit him in a way he didn’t expect. “I didn’t mean to- I tempted you into it.” You begun to pace along his floor. “Being alone with you so late at night with no one around, the rain, my clothes, everything. It was wrong of me to put you in that situation.”

Truly, for a moment, Jon had no words as you looked at him with the watering in your eyes wishing to turn to tears as you elaborated. “If you need distance from me...or if you wish for your father to send me back home again, I’ll understand.”

His chambers were dead silent but the fire crackling beside him. Sometimes, Jon could forget. That you were younger then him. In two months, you’d reach your sixteenth name day but Jon had been eighteen for nearly half the year now. He’d been a man practically since you arrived a year and a half ago, but you were younger, and so much more innocent.

It was easy for Jon to grasp on his end, he knew he had never kissed someone before and he didn’t hesitate to share it with you. But you weren’t where he was. You likely had never even considered having your first kiss until bloody marriage the way you were raised so strictly. Everything the women in your life had taught you, the Seven, your Septa that Jon hated even though he never met her.

Jon kissed you last night, and you stood in his chambers now afraid that you had tempted him into it, and it was your fault. That you had done something wrong.

Sighing deeply, Jon took a step forward before his hand reached out. As if taming a spooked horse, he silently asked if he could come close. You looked at him wearily before nodding, and looking away again, the shall wrapping tighter around you. Coming up to your side, the nerves clearly hit you strongly as you turned away from him. Not stepping away, but your back now facing him not able to handle looking at him with your guilt.

Without second thought though, Jon let a hand raise. Come up to your upper arm, while the other found gentle and light at your waist. The term slipped from his tongue with ease, rasping and strong as if it was as natural as saying your name. “Darling, I need you to listen to me.” He waited until you nodded, his hand running up and down your arm soothingly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t do anything in the first place. You didn’t tempt me, or seduce me or whatever it is everyone down south is putting in your head. I kissed you. Not the other way around.”

Your voice was a meek mutter, “I kissed you back, I encouraged you. You- men are different, and I shouldn’t have encouraged it when you didn’t want-”

He could tell his chuckle confused you. “Who says I didn’t want to?” You had no reply, nor did you have any idea of an answer he knew. “I kissed you, because I’ve wanted to kiss you for a very long time. Is it the kiss itself you’re upset about, or because it was with me?”

You didn’t really think about it, the way you turned to look up at him right away with wide, distressed eyes. Not realizing how close you stood with his hands on you, and how the stance had you and Jon pressed right up against each other. “No, that wasn’t it I promise-”

Moving the hand on your arm, Jon brushed some of the loose strands of hair at your side behind your ear, letting his hand trace to your cheek as this thumb ran over the soft skin. “Let me make this easy. Did you like it? When I kissed you?” Your nod was so shy Jon’s eyes could’ve rolled into the back of his head. “One more question.” Leaning down, he tilted your head up to look at him. “Did you want to try again?”

“Now?” Jon nodded, a stammer coming back over you as he felt your muscles twitching under his touch as if wanting to run.

Narrowing his eyes at you, Jon moved you to sit at the edge of his bed. Facing him as he sat beside you, your arms loosened their hold on the shall a little, his hand still cupping your cheek as he leaned over to you. “There’s nothing wrong with what we did, and there’s nothing wrong with the fact that you liked it. It was a kiss, darling. I didn’t tear your clothes off and take you against the tree.” The bright grin Jon had as you flushed terribly, looking away with a complete stammer.

You were so innocent about things, but he had never found it more endearing then that moment.

Your hands finally fell to your lap, fingertips toying with each other, voice soft. “I don’t want you to get into trouble.” He knew what you meant, but he nudged you to look up at him with his hand under your chin, his eyes asking you to explain. “I’m supposed to wait until I marry-”

Jons grin grew. “To what? To kiss a man?” Your embarrassment tried making you turn away, but with something a bit more playful added to it. Muttering your name, he tilted you to look back at him as he leaned close. “We don’t have to do it again, we don’t have to do anything. But you need to understand you didn’t do anything wrong, and I kissed you, because I’ve always wanted to kiss you. And if you ever want to do it again, I’ll be right here.”

That time your brows narrowed. Something a bit girlish in the way you let it mutter out in an embarrassed sort of jealousy he could sense you wished to cover up. “Why though? Why do you want to kiss me? You have plenty of other girls-” Jon interrupted with a gentle laugh asking what girls when you begun to stammer again. “The other girls..you..the ones who you kissed before me..”

Jon tilted your head to meet his bright gaze, “You’re the only one I’ve ever kissed, darling. The only girl I’ve ever wanted to kiss.” There was both an innocence but a hopefulness in the way you looked up at him, as if possibly everything was going to be alright. “This is new for both of us, but, we can do it together. However fast or slow you want.”

Jon knew it would be slow, very slow. But as you looked up brightly at him with a hope in your eyes even more prominent, he knew that taking it slow would be perfectly fine as long as it was with you. “I think I’d like that.” Prompting you to elaborate, there was a soft but embarrassed smile as you said it, the words foreign on your innocent lips. “...to kiss you again..”

He was as new at this all as you were, but still did it feel natural for Jon to take the reigns. Leaning close, cupping your cheek as his lips hovered over yours. Your eyes slipped closed, his hot breath dancing across your skin as his grey eyes looked down to your lips with a deep rasp. “We can do this as much as you like, I promise.”

For a moment, Jon waited to see if you’d close the gap, but he knew better. He was still correct. You were younger, far more naive and innocent about physical feelings and as close to a woman as you were, Jon still was the man. He had to ease you into it, make you feel safe. And for now, being the one to kiss you, was what made you feel safe.

His eyes slipping shut, Jon closed the gap. His lips connecting gentle to your softer ones. Slow and chaste, but just as you had on instinct last night, responded right away. Moving with his kiss but letting Jon dictate everything about it. Your hands slowly reached forward, finding his upper chest, slipping to his shoulders as Jon cupped both your cheeks and turned you to his mercy.

More and more he deepened it, but never without slowly guiding you. One kiss, then another, barley able to even describe it as pulling away before Jon kissed you again. By the time he pulled away, your eyes still closed as Jons fluttered open to look down at you. Pressing a firm kiss to your forehead, Jon very gently let his nose nudge into yours to gain your attention. “Do you want me to ask everytime, or is it alright if I just kiss you again?”

Luckily, he read your nod. Pressing his lips back to yours. Both of you sat on the edge of his bed, nothing intense or even perverse about the gentle, intimate manner Jon kissed you with. His hands by your cheek and hair, yours clinging to his shoulders as if trusting him to lead you.

Jon knew what he felt, he knew it for a long time. He wouldn’t say it, but he felt exactly as he did last night too. Jon knew what love felt like, and he had found it nowhere but in your sweet and gentle kiss.

Yet, it didn’t feel like it was staying that way. Jon could feel you, taste, you, hear you but further and further did you seem to drift away from him. Out of reach of his arms and touch as the room around him grew cold. Too did everything change as Jon looked around. No longer sitting, he stood in the middle of his room until the his head whipped around, hearing screaming. Your screams echoing along his own walls as if they were made rock echoing at him. His hands raised up to his view, soaked in blood as you screamed more and more. Turning one way, he looked back towards his bed where it no longer was.

You laid against what looked like a cave wall, eyes open but unmoving. Soaked in blood like his hands, and the lifeless body of a small blood soaked infant in your arms. The screaming had faded as you and your son had from life, but the lingering horror tearing his eyes up did not last. Instead, Jon was forced away from you to a sound of crashing against the walls. Turning around and around you had disappeared, but now he stood in his room alone, but with walls made of wood.

Banging and clawing and smashing and suddenly did deathly arms break through. Faces torn and rotted and bone but with eyes shining blue as they clawed their way to the inside of Jons chambers. Dressed in blacks and leathers with Longclaw at his side, he heard fighting and shouting and death all around as they tried to get in. Each wall they tore down Jon could see around him. The snow blowing around everywhere and the white cold freezing beyond compare.

Just as they crashed inside, burst through as those outside the room in the cold died by the thousands did they circle him. But when Jon spun to face them, he was unarmed. He was lost, confused, and in the dark of the courtyard of Castle Black. In his hand, he clutched tightly a note with a paper tinged ever so slightly in pink before the wights which approached him.

One, then the next, each wight wore the face of his brothers. Most watched and did nothing. In his stomach he felt two at first. Right in his stomach and another not so far, the wight with blue eyes but the face of Ser Alliser. The next the same, but the face of Othell Yarwick, again in the stomach and one more by his hip. The next wight both in the chest, and the face of Bowen Marsh. The final was the most confusing, a knife plunged right in his heart as he could see Olly mouthing the words, “For the Watch.” But Jon could not hear them.

The cold fades around him, as water and green and lush surrounded as he fell backward against the ground, wounds bleeding out. As if armour had been covering him he felt heavy, and the wights fighting around him were nothing but living men in a battle. He could not make out the face which stood over him, but held in their hands was a great war hammer. And just as it was to come down, shattering his bones to pieces did Jon whisper a name.

His insides told him to whisper one womans name, but Jon laid there and whispered another. The name of the voice he could hear echoing in the distance, his own name right back. And just as the hammer found his chest, did Jon awake with a horrible startle.

Hands grasping at his arm, you leaned down right into his curls with a gentle shush. “Jon, breathe for me, it’s alright.” One gasp after the next, did Jon lay on his side struggling to seek his breathe. He had torn awake suddenly, tearing from your gasp as if the dream he had, had forced him into being awake with a jump. Turning to the side with his palms against the sheets hardly able to breathe like it had been taken away from him.

Pushing yourself more as Jon sat up more, his feet finding the floor but not committing to standing did you drape yourself gentle along his back. One hand by his waist, you reached the other to slid under his arm and seek out his heart. Scar and all you felt it pounding under your hand, but Jon reached his own up. Snatching yours and clutching it in the same spot tightly.

Your head leaned into his neck with your lips leaving gentle presses to his skin as his now more sweat dampened curls didn’t bother you in the slightest. Your voice hardly a murmur, but whispered light in his ear. “I’ve got you, I promise.”

His eyes remained closed for a moment as he tried to control his breathing. Not willing to let go of your hand, you continued to match the gesture with your lips not leaving his skin. Neck, his cheek, side of his head whatever you reached to try and lull him back to you. Feeling his head lean back into you, did you nuzzle right back. The hand on his waist curling around to press more to the scars along his stomach, not even realizing the degree to which your touch against the wounds was bringing Jon back down so quickly.

Letting his breathing even out, Jons eyes opened to the room. The fireplace the only light in front of him, but it was his chambers. The same ones his dream showed, where he kissed you the night after the first time. Only now, it was many years later, and he was the one in pieces as you kneeled behind him with gentle words and a sweet touch to bring him back to you.

His voice strained with a rasp, as if he had been yelling fiercely, despite silent in his sleep. “I’m sorry I woke you.” Shaking your head, you leaned back down into his neck muttering not to be. You felt his back lean more into your touch, his free hand rising up to run his hands through what he could of your hair, his fingers dancing through the soft strands with a sigh like he felt relieved. It took him a good minute to say anything, as if finding the courage too. “Normally they don’t wake me up like that.”

Your hand free along his chest run along the skin you could reach, feeling his muscles relax each passing motion. “You called my name out.” Your voice just a tender mumble in his ear. “Right before you woke up, you called to me quietly, like you were afraid.” His brows furrowed, you only nuzzling the side of his head more. “You don’t have to tell me, Jon. It’s alright.”

Shaking his head, he swallowed back down that fear now that he could feel and hear you in what he knew was the present. “It wasn’t just one thing.” You didn’t let go of your hold on him as he spoke. “It was about us, at first. When we were younger, then..everything kept changing. I was back at Hardhome, then Castle Black the night they murdered me. And you-” Jon dared not tread into the screams and sight of you he saw. Refusing to even bring it up to you, not just remind you of it, but not wishing for you to know he dreamt of it near every night. You leaned more into him with a tighter grasp, even as Jon relaxed more. “Then...I don’t know. I’ve dreamt of it before but I never figure out what it is. I was in a field..a battle..I was on the ground about to die when I tried calling out to you, then I heard your voice and I woke up.”

A gentle whisper in his ear, “We all have nightmares sometimes-”

“Like the ones you pretend you don’t get every night?” It wasn’t an accusatory tone, but it caught you off guard. Pulling back only enough to look over his shoulder more at him in a wide eyed question before he shook his head. “If you get to comfort me after mine, why don’t I get to after yours?”

Voice very quiet, but you knew Jon always heard you. “You’d never get any sleep if you did.”

Jon actually chuckled deep in his chest, a small bemused smirk coming over him as he turned somewhat to try and meet your eyes. Letting go of the hand over his heart to try and reach back to you, feeling the ends of your hair as his grey eyes grew a bit brighter looking at you. “I’m awake to know when you have a nightmare more then you think I am.” Asking why, almost in a purposefully playful tone to ease him back into things Jon only let his fingers trace over your cheek that he could reach. “Whose going to protect you if I’m asleep?”

Heart tight, you leaned more to grasp at him now as if for your sake. “We protect each other.” Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you gently pulled at him to follow as you moved behind. “Come on, we still have a little while before the baby wakes up.”

Instead of Jon resuming how he normally slept, on his side pulling you firm into his chest, you took the reigns with a gentle hand. Laying a bit more up against the bed, and pulling Jon down to rest more against your front. His hands able to grasp onto either side of you as he lay somewhat on his front and side against you. His legs reaching the end of the bed whereas yours higher up didn’t go nearly as far. One hand ran over his shoulder and back, the other not hesitating to find his curls and run your fingers through them, never allowing them to snag on a strand.

Mumbling into your front, you could tell how quickly Jon was fading back into sleep. “We’re not laying like this every night.”

A gentle laugh you weren’t even sure if it hit his ears as his breathing evened out against you. Always the one to comfort you, you suspected sometimes Jon forgot he had been through just as much pain and horror. That he still had things to haunt him. Your eyes tore between looking up to the stone ceiling, and back down watching Jon sleep as your hands never ceased running through his curls.

You knew come morning he likely wouldn’t be very willing to admit what had been in his dreams specifically, but you felt thankful he at least allowed you to give him this. That he allowed himself to be held by you for once, not to push down his struggles for your struggles.

By the time the sun peeked through the windows, you weren’t sure you slept much after that. Dozed off a few times, but you knew most of the time you had never let go of Jon or your gentle touch. By the looks of where the brightness was in the sky, Jon would’ve been awake before you by this point, but still his muscles felt dead to the world.

Glancing over, it was as if as long as Jon was asleep this deep, so was his son. You’d have to wake him soon to feed him, but both wolf and pup were as gone to the waking world as the other. A gentle knock at the door though, your eyes flew down to Jon, but still he did not stir. A smile crept on your lips, and this you had begun the painful process of sneaking out from his touch. Still asleep his brows furrowed as he reached out to grab at you, but you prompted him more to relax, laying on his front.

Leaning down, you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, your hands running down his back gently before getting up from the bed. Pulling something warm over you quickly just to cover up modestly, you creaked the door open only enough so that you could be seen and nothing else.

Both Sam and Olly seemed to have been bantering over something as they stood outside the door, but much to both their surprises, you were not who they expected. Part of you could only wonder, how often did Jon open the door in the early hours of the morning sending people off not to disturb you while still asleep, yourself. Your voice a quiet tone to try and ensure they didn’t speak too loudly. “What is it?”

Looking to Olly, it seemed you being there had taken them both off guard. Sam attempting to sound as normal as possible, as if otherwise he’d be coming off as awkward. “Well, I was just hoping to see Jon about something-”

“Is it urgent?” Sams head jolted back a bit by your more stern question, even moreso when you repeated yourself. “Is it urgent? Does he have to speak to you right now, or can it wait?” Sam only commenting that of course it could wait, and interrupted before he could say anything else. “Good. Now..now isn’t a good time.”

You could tell for a moment that Sam’s instinct was to make a joke about much more physical affairs, as if that was one he’d normally make to Jon. But meeting your eyes, there was something he could see in them that told you would not take that very well, for whatever it was it was serious he seemed to pick up. “I only thought, because Jons normally-” Shaking his head to cut himself off did he change routes. “If you could just tell him that I need to talk to him about something, sometime today.”

Nodding firmly, “Of course.” Sam looked at you and then Olly before making his way. Your glance at Olly though, was more hesitant. Part of Jons dream he said, that night at Castle Black. The Olly in front of you now was very different no doubt then the one holding a knife that night, but still you thought. Jon didn’t often have so blatantly bad dreams, and you wanted to take care of him as he would you. “Maybe, you should come back later too.”

Olly’s brows furrowed, “Is everything alright?”

He didn’t buy your smile, nor did it last long enough on your face for it to be meant too. “It is, it’s..” Trying to put it as diplomatically as possible, you didn’t want any hint of guilt put on the boy for something that had been long discussed over again. “It’ll just be a slower start to the morning is all. Jon needs time before everything else today.”

Hesitating at your expression, but he did not fight you. “I understand, your grace. Should I pass that onto the maids?” Asking if he would please, Olly too made his leave as you closed the door.

The timing couldn’t have worked better, as one stirred awake before the other. A small sound crying into the morning air of the bedchambers, little Eddard breaking a smile out onto you without delay. Walking over to his cradle, you leaned down to let your hand rest at his front. “And how were your dreams last night?” Just a small babble with a smile did his make yours grow wider. “Good. At least one of you had an easy night.” Picking the baby up into your arms, he wasn’t yet impatient to be fed, just leaning into you as you held him more high against your chest to rest against at first. One hand holding him firmly, the other resting comfortingly along his back, not unlike the exact manner you had done lulling Jon back to sleep.

Looking over, you turned so the baby too could see him. Little head turning as he still rested it against you, a hand reaching out with a tiny cry as you smiled. Looking at Jon then the baby with a whisper, “Let him sleep more, silly boy. You and I can get through one morning on our own without him.”

By the time Jon stirred awake, his voice was a grumbling husk so heavy with sleep his accent was thick to follow. Glancing over to his side of the bed, Jon had turned onto his side facing you, letting his elbow prop him up to watch you closely. “Wish I could make up to this more often.”

You laughed gently, leaning against the headboard, you held the baby to your breast to feed, a tired but relax look on your face as you had been gazing down at the baby and even brighter now looking at Jon. “You could if you let yourself sleep in more.”

Shaking his head, Jon pushed up right away. Coming up to your side, and slinking his arms behind you and tugging you into him without jostling the baby. Kissing the skin below your ear before Jon rasped into it, “I can’t take care of you if I’m asleep and you’re not.” Muttering with a playfulness that he didn’t always have to take care of you, Jons brows furrowed as if you said something ludicrous. “Of course I do.” His lips pressed firmer to the hair at the side of your head, leaning down against you as his hand wrapped around to your waist and his other traced along your front. Pushing the material of your shift up, not for any indecency but so he could freely run his hand along your stomach, smoothing over the scar that matched the fatality in his.

The morning quiet for a few minutes as you both watched your son feed from you, Jon unable to help himself most of the time from turning into your hair with his lips to follow. Sometimes trailing down to your neck, but never yet pushing it too far. One hand always against your stomach quite firmly, as if so you always could feel he was there.

Neither of you yet spoke about his nightmare, but at least for the time being, there was peace between the three of you as long as you stayed in the little bubble of Jons chambers together. If only it lasted.

Forearms leaned across the table, your fingernails dug mindlessly into the wood as your face felt permanently twisted in thought. It had felt like that for the past hour, the men around you all discussing more then you could comprehend all together and eventually you found yourself lost in the whirlwind of theory and information being shared.

Having started from the top, the original intention was to relay everything of what they knew now and what occurred to both Stannis and Ser Davos, only for the interrupting figure of Ser Royce entering the room before they begun, his tone rough and on the side of doubtful, but when on this topic, doubt was something Jon was very used to being sent his way. “If the Queen is right, and these things are responsible for what happened to my son, then I want to hear about it. All of it.”

More then once your eyes would turn from the table, head spinning just enough to look over your shoulder to where the door to the side room was still partially open. On the fur laid out by the fire, Gilly was sat with little Sam, an easy to read book in her hands, and Sam in her lap as she slowly and quietly read the words. Helping Sam point along to each she read, sometimes prompting him to say certain ones back. A bit beside her, you could see the small cradle on the ground as well where your son was laying.

Sometimes you’d look and he was unmoving, clearly asleep. Other times you’d hear the occasional faint sound coming from him as a limb would move. If it was loud enough, Gilly sometimes would turn from Sam to give the baby bright smiling attention with ease. This time however when she glanced upward, with a more nervous swallow and bite to her lip did she look wearily at you. An attempt to act as if she was still looking at you in a normal way, but the manner she diverted her gaze quickly back down to little Sam told that she knew she couldn’t keep it up for long.

Eyes glancing back to the discussion around you, your shoulders deflated, feeling like your brows furrowed more and you turned inward on yourself. Pretending you didn’t feel Jons gaze on you each time your mood grew more dour each time Gilly would no longer talk to you.

Around you though, a thorough discussion was being had as the question was brought up, asked by Ser Davos as he gestured to you. “Why her though? I only mean both times wights attacked any of you in a group, they always went for her first.” Many things tossed about at first, being a woman, looking the most venerable, or that maybe you were simply just convenient in both instances.

Sam shook his head at most. “Nothing I’ve been able to find says anything about that. During the Long Night, they make no mention that women or children were exempt or special in anyway when the dead came through.”

Tormund rumbled from where he sat, giving Jon a more knowing look drenched in a darkness shared between a horror none here but them had seen. “Boys right. When they hit us at Hardhome, it didn’t matter who was in their way. A whole group of those things were children when they attacked Karsi.” Jon only muttering roughly to add that then she too was woken up into one of them.

It was your father who brought it up, directed at Sam. “You killed one of them, with a piece of obsidian. What happened before then, that could possibly tell us anything?”

That time it was Sam whose eyes went over to Gilly, but instead of a fear he once may have still held, there was something more brave in him finally as he spoke of it. “It didn’t care about me at all. It just threw me out of the way trying to get to Gilly. Or, well, she said it was here for the baby.”

Jons face twisted downward as he looked away, eyes closing for the length it took to roughly exhale through his nose before answering the why being asked in result. “Because that’s what Craster was doing to his sons.” All eyes looked at him, and yours barley flickered over as well with a knowing that only made you feel heavy in your limbs. “Everytime one of his wives had a baby boy, he’d wait until nightfall, then take them out to the woods and leave them there. So the Others could take them.”

“How do you know that?” Jon met Benjens gaze who looked the most like he believed it but still something exasperated in his tone that most all held hearing it now. “His wives used to say strange things about it, that they were gifts to the gods but I never..”

Swallowing rough once more, Jons hands braced against the table curled more into fists as if to relieve the tension somewhere. “I saw it. I followed Craster in the woods one night, and saw him leave his son out there. And I saw what came and took it away.” The wide look in his grey eyes as he found Sam, head tilting with something of a silent apology trying to follow. “It was there for the baby. Probably came to collect, and when the mutineers took over the keep, it went looking for the child.”

The glance shared between Meera and Bran caught both your and Jons attention. “We heard a baby in the middle of the woods, early on before we were captured by those men.”

Bran nodded, his eyes finding Jons as if too putting things together at just how close to this winding mystery they all were at separate times. “I went out in Summers mind trying to see what was happening, but before I did, I saw Ghost.” Jon standing up a bit straighter with a narrowing in his eyes. “They had him locked up in a cage, but Summer fell into a trap before I could see anything else. The next morning when we went to go look, was when they found us.”

Jon looking to Sam with something a bit more agitated playing close to his chest, “You and Gilly were already at Castle Black when that happened. Which means it was another boy they-” Cutting himself off in thought, Jon forced the thought through without blame for the women, he knew it wasn’t their fault for it. “They must have convinced Karl and the rest that it needed to be done.”

But Bran had pointed out what the glaring issue was as he mentioned to you, “But neither time they attacked her had anything to do with the baby. He wouldn’t even have been born when she got attacked at the Nightfort, and north of the Wall they attacked her when she was alone. If they wanted the baby, wouldn’t they have gone right for him, just like the Others did with Sam and Gilly?”

That time, you and Jon knew everyone saw the uncertain look shared between you. Neither of you tried to hide it, nor did either of you hide what expressions followed. Jons with that of frustration, yours much more of something helpless and defeated as you turned to look back at your nails still failing to scratch into the wooden surface. “What? What is it?”

Jon chose the hard path, but too the direct one. “In both times, the Nightfort and that day in the Haunted Forest. She was there both times, but what about her is different then anyone else was who was there too?”

A woman was out, as Meera and Yara were present the second time. The second time could’ve been called an easy target when alone but you were in the room with Theon the first, and Tormund and Olly both were just outside the room when it happened. You were unarmed properly the second time but armed the first. All options thrown about seemed to go nowhere until it dawned on one of them.

It seemed fitting that it first came from Bran. “The Andals.” Most eyes looked to him, but Jons only looked to yours. You felt them, but didn’t look at up at them. “The four at the Nightfort, and when we were north of the Wall. We’re all descendants of the First Men, but she isn’t.”

Tormund looked to him in a doubt, “I’ve seen my people and southerners alike get carved up by those things. Didn’t matter who they were.”

Bran kept going, his eyes narrowed as if putting it together in his mind from pieces he knew, pieces he saw, and everything else he’s head. “That was before, when the Nights Watch and Free Folk were both constantly north of the Wall. They still had men to collect for an army at that point.” Jon looked over to Tormund with a nod, Hardhome. An attack meant to collect the Free Folk left and gain the most of their army from what was far North they could, and they succeeded in the tens of thousands. Sam asking what that had to do with you being a descendant of the Andals, but again Jon caught your eye.

Yours were wide but with hardly any brightness in them, a tilt of your head slightly to the side to indicate that he should just say it. That at least, was something you both knew, for better or worse, though most of it continued to point to worse. “In some way, we know parts of each others languages. The Others using old runes to leave messages. The old stories say the Long Night ended with one man finding a way to defeat the Others, but we know better. One man isn’t enough to lead a battle to victory, not against them.” Jons eyes trapped back not dissimilar to somewhat of the disturbed way they looked when he awoke so violently that morning. “I killed one of them with Longclaw, and then one raised up tens of thousands they just killed. That was a message too. That it doesn’t matter how many of them I or any one else kill, they’ll always have more power against us then we do them.”

Leaning more to where Jon stood, Sam asked “What are you saying?”

That time when Jon looked at you, you knew you failed at giving him anything comforting, as if it all had left that morning behind safe in his chambers and had no part out with everyone else anymore. But his eyes were soft, trying to assure you, but you felt too distant and strained in your chest to be able to understand what he said in any specific of the silence. “The Dawn Age started when the First Men made peace with the Children of the Forest. Some treaty not to fight each other anymore. We may have enough weapons and dragon glass to defend ourselves and the people we love, but not enough to take down an army of that size. And we know we didn’t kill them. If we did, they wouldn’t be here now. They just left.”

Stannis put it together in words as some were still connecting it. “You’re saying that the First Men made an arrangement of peace with the Others?” Jon nodded with his muscles rather tense. “What does that have to do with their attacks on my daughter?”

“If they made some kind of deal to end it, it was thousands of years before the Andals ever came over to Westeros. They may not know the difference between the Free Folk and the Northerners living on the other side of the Wall, but they know the difference between the people they made a deal with, and the ones that they never agreed to have peace with.”

A loud scratch had you nearly flinching, the right painful degree of pressure pushed downwards to scratch into the rough wooden table just as you matched in how hard you bit down on your tongue, keeping your face twisted but unmoving, and hopefully to any but Jon, unreadable.

Tormund and Sam both brought up that they attacked the free folk, Northerners, and they didn’t care, but Jon too had an answer that you both knew, was far more confident then a man just figuring it out as he spoke them. “It could be two options.” First looking to Tormund, “They saw your people as necessary casualties to build their army.” The second he looked to the rest of them. “Or they see our mixing with Southerners as breaking whatever deal the First Men made thousands of years ago.”

Shaking his head, Sam looked as in disbelief as everyone else, only he had the courage to say something about it. “What kind of deal-” Jon only muttered that he had no idea, that it was over eight thousand years ago, which Sam relented. “Any information on the Long Night since has all but disappeared, I suppose that disappeared as well. But why now? The Andals came over four thousand years ago, the Rhoynar not long after that, why only wake up now?”

It was not lost on either of you, that you said it, so Jon didn’t have to trap himself in what could’ve come off as a lie. “That’s what we are still trying to figure out. We have ideas, but not the whole picture.” It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t quite the truth, and your nails continuing to carve into the wood meant you missed the grateful but needing look Jon had given you for it knowing he didn’t know how to say it or even what to say about it. Neither of you hardly understood it yet as much as you knew.

Ser Davos asked a very good question however, “How do you know that? The Andals and the First Men, how can you be sure that’s why they’d attack her instead of any of you?” Jon only saying that he and you went beyond the Wall in the first place to find answers like that. “So, what do we do? If whatever this treaty existed doesn’t apply anymore, what do we do?”

Jons answer was tinted in more vagueness then he was letting off, but it still was the right one. “Exactly what we’ve been doing. Prepare to fight, and hope the rest of the Kingdoms join us before it’s too late.”

Sitting down, his hand running over his face, Ser Royce looked up to Jon. “I never knew your father to be a man to lie in such outlandish ways, Jon Arryn himself raised him to value the truth. I may not know what the rest of the Lords in the Vale will think about any of this, but if Ned Stark were the one telling me all of this, I’d believe him. Which means I have every reason to believe what his son is telling me now.”

Jon nodded, a strain in his low tones. “I’m not asking you to believe me without question, but I’ve seen what the Others can do. Sam’s seen it, Tormund’s seen it. What the army of the dead will do to us if they breach the Wall, and even if the North somehow manages to protect itself, you, your people, no one in the south will be safe. And the Others won’t care how much you didn’t believe us.”

You could see why Ser Royce would be a man that greatly respected Ned Stark, the blunt manner he got to the point without being rude about it. “If I did choose to believe all this, what would you have us do?”

Right away Jon had an answer, and a powerful one. “Train. Your people all need to train. Spears, pikes, sword, bow and arrow. Every man who can hold a stick needs to be able to fight, and if they all fall, then your women and children need to know how to fight all the same.”

Leaning forward, he had the same expression that many of the men in the hall had the day Jon said it to the North. The same one that your father and Ser Davos now were wearing as Ser Royce said it. “My youngest granddaughter’s tenth nameday is this year. Do you expect me to put a sword in her hand when she’d barley be able to hold it up?”

Your nails only dug deeper, to the point you wondered if the stinging you were feeling was actually drawing blood, but you had not the will to drag your hand from it’s position to do so as Jon said it. “If winter doesn’t kill us all before I get a chance to have a daughter of my own, I won’t hesitate to train her exactly as I will my son.”

You knew no doubt to the southern men, all fathers in their own rights looked at Jon as if he had said something completely mad. But, your eyes only tore up to the side to look at your fathers, a narrowing glare to not stay in silence when you knew he understood Jon was right. Whether or not he felt pressure from you, or he found it willing in him to say it, did Stannis speak up in Jons defence. Saying your name as you hadn’t yet looked away from your father in a stare that could only be described as eerily matching of his own. “She came home to Dragonstone at twelve, someone had begun to teach her the basics of sword fighting while she was gone. I didn’t like it, I had never intended for her to learn. Fighting wasn’t for girls. But, she already started, and it would be a waste to let those lessons go nowhere. So I kept them going. I could only imagine how unprepared for this threat or the world she would be now, if no one bothered to start her on that path in the first place.”

Neither of you said anything how he had somehow figured out it was Jon, nor did you suspect Jon knew either. Only feeling his eyes in the back of your head as he spoke. “Ser Royce, I can only tell you what I told my people when they said the same thing as you. I hate every single time she’s anywhere near a fight or battle, but I’d never want to take away the fact that knowing how to defend herself has saved her own life more then I ever have.”

Were you not in a room with so many people, or your nails finally wanting you to scream in pain, you might have looked up to him with a brightness that Jon would know was a protest. You knew how to defend yourself because of him, even if he didn’t swing the sword in every instance, you still owed all of it to Jon for knocking you to the dirt in the courtyard with a training sword in the first place.

Ser Royce sat in thought, “I cannot promise anything, and I won’t until I know in my soul this all is true, but I could speak to the other Lords of the Vale. At least push the stubborn old bastards in the right direction.” Glancing at him, his face didn’t change any from how rough it was but his tone did take on what felt like a rare jest towards Jon. “No offence meant of course.”

You could hear Jon actually withholding a bit of a smirk. “No offence taken, my lord. There’s nothing you could say that I haven’t heard dozens of times already.”

A crack of a smile came over the man in return. “You’re your fathers son, no doubt.”

Only then did your eyes look over to Jon, and you knew only you had seen the flash over the greys that spoke much like something distant and disturbed again like that morning. Whatever this dream was in detail, it felt as if it wasn’t the first time he had it. Just the first time you had woken up with him when he awoke from it so suddenly.

The last to get up, it wasn’t until you felt a warm hand grab at your wrist, pulling your hand up from where it felt like it was melted to the table. Your fingertips shaking slightly as blood was clearly dripping from them, somewhat too coated as if it had been doing so a while. Nervous eyes glanced up to Jon, his own narrowing in a worried disbelief as he found the spot you had been carving into.

Prompting you to stand with his other hand finding your waist, Jon turned to Sam with as much of an even tone as he could despite you knew he felt otherwise not calm. “Sam, could you and Gilly watch the baby a little longer?”

It was discreet, the way Sams eyes looked from Jon down to where he clearly had a hold on your wrist and the sight more of blood, but with wider eyes trying to hide as neutral he nodded. “Of course, whenever you’re...finished.” Jon muttered a thank you, but you felt Sams eyes on you as Jon turned to walk you out.

Motioning for you to lean against the wall as he closed the door behind him, you sighed shakily before he came close to your front. Without saying much, Jon grabbed at your hips, lifting you with a gesture to sit back on the high table behind you, “There you go.” Looking over there only seemed to be two which had bled, eyes scouring for any sharp shards of wood he must have come to the conclusion whatever you scraped them so hard against was attached to the table not in your skin.

Hidden from his side, did he pull out wrappings, one hand holding yours up he lifted his other to use his teeth tearing at the fabric to make smaller strips before gently wounding them around each finger. “I’ll clean this later, but this will do for now.” Asking in a gentle voice if he just kept that on him, did he surprise you. Eyes peeking up with more of a playfulness and smirk to match, “I know who I’m married too.”

One finger then the next, before using the third to wrap around both and your hand in general, did his brows begin to furrow a little. “Jon?”

Shaking his head with a sigh he didn’t look away from his work. “Soon enough your hands will be covered in more scars then I am.” Your head tilted almost in a bemused disapproval, and too did he smirk before continuing. “I know you weren’t seeing anything.” A single shake of your head no. “Do you want to tell me what happened this time?”

With a sigh, you finally found it in you not willing to look away from him. “Everything we know, and it still doesn’t feel like enough.” Glancing up to you with a furrowed brow, Jon finished tying the wrappings off before pulling your hand up to press a kiss to the skin still exposed. Letting it sit in your lap with your other as he cupped the side of your head, leaning in with gentle eyes as you finished. “Sometimes it gets to me.”

Running his thumb over your cheek, he gave a small shift to a more stern expression. “You get hurt enough as it is. You can’t be doing it to yourself.” Leaning down more to meet your eyes properly, you gave him a nod. Which for now, he accepted without words to follow from you. His other hand coming up to your waist, sitting a bit low closer to your hip.

Keeping your eye, he slightly grasped at the skirt of your dress, pulling it enough that your lips parted, a fluster rising in your chest. Jons smirk grew as he only moved it enough to give him proper room to stand between your legs. Shifting his hand so the thumb on your cheek could now tilt you by the bottom of your chin to look up at him. Where the inclination came from, you weren’t entirely sure, but the tone you said it with while not at all seductive, there was a purposeful innocence about it that Jon knew was no accident. “My King?”

Eyes closing, Jon let out a rough exhale. His jaw clenched as he murmured your name in warning. “Don’t.” Asking what specifically, you felt his hand both at your waist and more by your jaw tighten as his eyes begun to bleed the grey into a darker colour. “Don’t tempt me here.”

You knew you were pushing it, a small grin fighting it’s way onto your face. “I didn’t say anything, my King.” A roughly muttered word of stop, and your hands reached up to rest at his shoulders. “I only ask if there’s anything you need. The King takes such good care of his people, he deserves to be rewarded-”

Both of you knew it was a trap you were setting, but Jon let himself walk right into it. Grabbing both of your cheeks, Jon pulled you up into him to press his lips to yours. Sliding a hand right away to the back of your neck, keeping you there in his hold. Your hands slipped to his waist to steady yourself, only able to follow Jons command.

His lips were so soft, guiding you deeper and deeper as you felt a whine in your chest travel up for him to capture. A growl rumbling deep in his chest, never parting from you for more then half a second and certainly never enough to let you gasp for air. Leaning more over you, Jon tilted your head back even more, nowhere for you to escape his kiss.

He didn’t even need too, the bite to your lip causing you to part the, so his tongue could slide into your mouth. You would’ve done so for him without being asked, but Jon had other ideas. Ones that had his hand on your cheek drift down. Grasping at your waist with a tightness, did he step forward. Too many layers between you, but enough bulk sat low attached to his person that you’d feel it at least brushing to your inner thighs. A tease of what you could have if you were anywhere else.

Running his hand down your thigh, he gripped tightly the edge of the skirt of your dress as low as it was, the temptation to yank it up growing more and more appealing to him. Brushing his tongue against yours as you let out a higher pitched moan, Jons hand fisted the hair at the back of your neck through his fingers tightly. Readjusting his hold more and more, as if telling you like a wolf that you were under his control. Which his strength certainly spoke of that. Letting go of your dress, Jon shamelessly let his hand drift up the skin of your leg, squeezing your thigh roughly until he got to his destination.

Pulling back, the saliva trailed between your lips as he watched with hooded eyes as yours barley fluttered open up to him. Rasping low and roughly, “It’s like you want me to take you where anyone can find us.”

Looking up at him, there was a lightness in your heart, but a breathlessness caused by him as you said it so genuinely. “Like you said, we’re married, and you’re King. You can take me anywhere you want, any time you want.” Eyes bleeding black, Jons gaze twisted looking over you as his hand roamed under your dress to the nothing in his way.

Suddenly his large hand covered you completely, a gasp letting out as he yanked you back to his lips. A biting roughness as he kissed you deep that had your hands tighten against him. The feeling of his fingers thick along your folds finding out all over again just how quickly his simple touch and kiss could make you wet. Toying with the idea of sinking two inside of you then and there until a rather loud clearing of a throat hit both of your ears.

There was no hiding it, Jons hand shoved up the skirt of your dress and the rough, possessive hold of your hair as he kissed you. You sitting on a high surface legs wide enough for Jon to even stand between them in the first place. But what was worse, was that the throat clearing was followed by the worst possible voice lecturing your name that could’ve been.

If your horrifically embarrassed jump and gasp spoke of one reaction, Jon somehow spoke of a whole other. Pulling from your lips, both his hands eased. One gentle as he ran it smooth down your leg once more before seeking the edge of your dress and pulling it back down modestly, before running it along your waist in a firm manner. The hand in your hair running down it smoothly as he nudged your nose with his gentle to say without words to let him speak for you.

Unable to stop the small grin bright on his handsome face as you nodded, heart racing too much to think. Gently grabbing both your hips to help you down, but Jon was subtle at least. One hand polite at your lower back, the other grabbing your injured, or more recently injured hand in his, running over the fresh wrappings. Moving your fingers in a way that it was clear that at least at some point in the encounter, did he dress a wound for you to distract.

Which your fathers gaze flickered down to it right away, noticing it with a small narrow before again sternly looking back to Jon. Ser Davos stood beside him, trying as hard as he could not to look thoroughly entertained by all of this thus far.

“I was hoping to speak to you alone on a matter.”

Addressing Jon specifically, he kept his calm as if nothing happened despite how flustered you stood beside him. “Of course.” Pulling you more into his side, Jon cupped the other side of your head to press a kiss to your hair, muttering just loud enough that they’d be able to hear it. “If you want to go get the baby, I’ll meet both of you when your father and I are done. Alright?” A nervous look was clear in your eyes as you nodded. The silence following as you made your way back into the room, praying to the Mother that neither of them would say anything to Jon and just let the embarrassment fade away.

Sam always busying with something, sat reading and scribbling away at something. Looking up with a genuine smile, his quill in hand pointing over to the other room. “The little Prince is still with Gilly, nothing to worry.”

Pausing in your step, you turned back with something of a troubled look that tried to act as if it were merely banter. “You know Sam, you don’t have to use titles with me or him. It’s alright to call us by our names the way you do with Jon.”

Nodding a bit, Sam was easy to talk too. Very little judgment came over him no matter how awkward you stood there, now wrapped hand fidgeting with the other. “Old habit, I suppose.”

Mustering what you hoped was even part of a smile. “I understand. I married Ned Stark’s eldest son and right up until he died, I never could shake the habit of calling him Lord Stark.”

For a moment it seemed as if words had passed, you hardly even moving to the other direction when Sam spoke. Something more serious in his voice, and eyes. “What was he like?” Turning back with wider eyes, he spoke with a respect but still trepidation. “Robb Stark, I only know what little Jon told me about him, but he was his brother. He was your husband, and King in the North. It’s odd hearing so much about someone who had that big of an impact on the people in your life but will never meet.” Lips opening and closing, your heart felt heavier in the thought which Sam picked up on right away. “You don’t have to, of course. I was only wondering.”

Shaking your head, you moved a bit more into the room without committing to sitting anywhere near where he was. A barrier you put up that Sam had detected, as if without Jon by your side, he had hardly ever seen you exist in a room with people and feel comfortable. “No, it’s fine. I- I suppose I’m just not much of a story teller, but, if there was anything you’d like to know specifically?”

The easy manner Sam laughed was relieving a bit, that it wasn’t directed at you. “I’m aware of that at least. Jon told me once that you never had a very good imagination.” That had you laugh lightly, Sam to join moreso as you muttered that he was correct. “What did it feel like? Learning you were to marry one Stark, but not the one you’d been with for years?”

Almost as if a nervous girl you glanced to the closed door, no doubt Jon having left with your father and Ser Davos already. Looking back to Sam, your brows furrowed a bit, hands still fidgeting. “It was confusing at first. My father told me there was no choice, that King Robert had ordered it. Only for me to speak to him myself, and he told me that my father had come to him, insisting on the match out of nowhere.” Asking why, you inhaled the nerves and attempted to exhale that feeling you had in the Black Cells realizing that very thing. “My father leaned the truth about Joffery, and he knew that made him Robert’s true heir. If he suspected war was coming, he knew marrying his eldest daughter to the heir of Winterfell would put the North in his pocket.”

The casualness which Sam would jest things, even with someone like you, made it easy to understand why Jon would’ve liked Sam so quickly. “So much for that plan.” You broke a small, silent smile in agreement. Letting him follow up in questions himself. “Now, I’m not asking to be rude, or question your time with Robb, again I’m only curious-”

Your tone gentle as it was a little amused. “Just ask it, Sam.”

“If Jon had come to you with that idea. If it were more then just a fantasy in his head, coming to you and bringing you far North to just be together instead, would you have done it?” Your eyes were wide, asking him where he heard about that. “Jon told me. Once he opened up about you, it was like I couldn’t get him to stop talking about you.”

Again your eyes drifted to the door where he wasn’t outside of it, drifting just slightly to the side where you knew your son with him was, but too did you feel the scar under your clothes and the question wasn’t as easy to answer as you thought. Perhaps it was more honest then it needed to be, perhaps it was the ease in which Jon had said in front of everyone, the future of a daughter you both didn’t even have yet as if it were without question to happen. The security of now, perhaps made the loss of before slip from your lips a bit more with honesty.

Not really looking at him, but just off to the side as if lost in memory. “Robb and I hardly had a chance to be husband and wife, and even less time to ever have a child together. Having that now with Jon, it means the world to me but...” You could still see him, brown curls always perfect in place and his bright blue eyes and warm soothing voice, not a single bit of him was gone from your memory. “Maybe there was someone out there better for him, a girl he’d love more or be happier with..but instead he had me. And no matter what, Robb deserved to be loved. And I don’t regret for one second being allowed to be the one to give that to him.”

The room was silent, nor did you have the strength to look at Sams reaction to such honesty from you of all people, but your head turned the very second a small sound was heard that you knew too well.

Muttering a mere, “Excuse me.” Not hearing what he said politely after as you gently opened the door. For only a moment did you have enough in you to not feel the lonely detachment as Gilly only referred to you as your grace, and no longer your name as bright green eyes sought yours, with arms holding themselves up.

Leaning down with a smile bright on you, the brightness too on little Eddard’s face grew as did the nonsensical sounds he gave you in return to your voice. “I missed you too, sweet boy.” Your fingers running along his front almost in a tickling motion, as he attempted to grasp at the loose strands of your hair in return. “Were you good for Gilly?” Just a babble, but your voice played right along with ease. “That better be the truth you’re telling me.”

“It is.” Your head turning somewhat to the side, Gilly with a more apprehensive look but life was more within them looking between you and the baby. “He’s very well behaved. You and Jon have done a good job.” You swallowed whatever that feeling was back down to interpret later, nodding with a thank you until your attention was forced back with that grasp of your hair.

“Alright, alright, come here, you.” Picking up the eager Eddard, as soon as he came close did the baby snuggle right into your front. Cupping the back of his head to press a kiss to the top of his you mumbled gently, “Let’s go get you fed, and if you’re lucky, grandfather will stop lecturing your father long enough that he might get back in time for your bath.” Turning more to her, you were more formal, and it was not lost on either of you how quickly it felt like whatever friendship had been brewing here was now lost. And neither of you were good enough at this to know how to mend it. “Thank you, Gilly.”

Luckily, the hall outside was empty save for two guards whom now never left your shadow. Thankfully for you, the two present didn’t feel the need to say much. But you knew with Ser Davos in the same walls as his son, it was only a matter of time before your embarrassment of getting caught by your own father would spread to Allard and Theon both, and gods protect you when they got hold of that kind of fodder to make fun of you with.

Jon tried not to think about it, the ease in which he relayed the details of that night with near as much anger as he felt in the moment, barley restrained beneath his words. The three of them stood in private, Jons anger across from the troubled look of Ser Davos and the withheld but perturbed expression of Stannis as the later considered his words carefully. “Littlefinger tried to have her killed before if the information you are telling me is correct. How can you be sure this wasn’t a leftover from a plan he previous had in place.”

His jaw was clenched roughly, the feeling of having to subtly let out the tense air from his lungs to even speak not lost on both men. “Their orders were to take her head, and bring it back to the person who ordered it. Littlefinger had been in Winterfell for weeks, and was dead for days by the time they showed up. If it was him, they’d have no one to bring it to, or even pay them.”

Ser Davos nodded in an agreement. “No use in trying to murder a Queen if they’re getting nothing out of it.”

Following up with what theories he had so far, Jon didn’t say anything for a moment. None of whom was involved had said anything about it, and Jon couldn’t be sure you’d want your father to know but here he was asking and he had to be honest. “It’s not a strong possibility, but there’s a chance Euron Greyjoy had something to do with it.”

“Greyjoy?”

He knew there was more personal of a history there. Stannis had been the one to defeat Euron and Victarion in battle at sea during the Greyjoy rebellion. His actions against their fleet were the reason Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon could get to Pyke to end it in the first place. So he nodded once, hands tense at his sides trying to explain it without reliving those hours all over again. “When we were north of the Wall, he sent men after us. Tried to kill me, and kidnap her to bring her to him.”

Much like you could be when holding back, Stannis had one word responses. “Why?”

There was a lot he left out, but there was no room in him to explain anything to do with your abilities, the facts were easier to work with in this scenario. “He wants the Iron Throne, and he wants her by his side when he gets it.”

Both older men gave the other a glance, Ser Davos himself knew about Euron from beyond the Greyjoy rebellion, and Jon could only wonder which would be more willing to give him that information. Ser Davos himself, or Allard, as the former spoke. “If he wants her by his side, why send assassins after her?”

Shrugging one shoulder, Jons voice was rough but even. “Maybe if he can’t have her, no one can, to a man like him. It might be a stretch, but I can’t rule it out.”

“I agree.” Nodding, Stannis had kept his calm more then Jon could’ve even pretended to do despite the information. ���These assassins, they didn’t think to harm the boy?” Jon shook his head, affirming they never even tried to touch little Eddard, only making Stannis think more. “It would be someone then who doesn’t yet know you have a child together. Eventually most of the realm will hear it, some already have, but this was someone who didn’t have a clue. Otherwise they might have reconsidered their plan, or strategy at the least were they to know a child, an heir was in the picture.”

Voice more on an edge did Jon feel unable to hide it. “You’re saying they’d have gone after my son too if they knew about him?” Stannis only repeating what Jon had said previous, that he couldn’t rule it out.

Already the guard he had and the measures he had in place were as heavy as Jon could get without being overbearing towards everyone, but perhaps it helped that he knew he had most of it surrounding you, and normally the baby could be found with you or him, if not one close by. Back and forth they went, but Stannis changed the subject before Jon could even think to leave. “One more thing. You knew, about the one my daughter has been hiding here, the bastard boy.”

Jon tried very hard to ignore the smirk across Ser Davos’s face reacting to what came from his mouth next, with a bit of a jest in his eyes. “You might need to be more specific.” The two mens glances meeting just barley before Jon returned his attention to Stannis, whom was either not amused or didn’t pick up on the joke at all.

“One of Robert’s bastards, Gendry. She admitted to me that she brought him here and has been hiding his identity.” But the look in his eye too, was serious, as Jons was in the confidence he had in why you had made the choices regarding him in the first place.

“Aye.”

Hard to read, if the quick quirk raised in his brow was negative or positive with this man as his tone never changed once. “Am I correct to presume you knew about this?” Jon again nodded, with no shame nor anything to hide in him for it, if you had brought it up first it seemed. “If he is here, I would presume she told you of what happened. You don’t think it would be appropriate to inform me that you have someone here who was a prisoner of mine?”

“Gendry might have been your prisoner once, but he isn’t now.” Bringing up your name with more of a sternness, “She brought him here to protect him, because he is her blood and she doesn’t want to see any other members of her family dead more then she already has. Gendry may have been your prisoner once, but he’s also her family. And she’s my wife, my Queen. Which means he’s under my protection too. From anyone who might come looking for him.”

The stare between both men was difficult to read, neither knew the other well enough to determine the degree of possible hostility spoken amongst such words. But Stannis was at the least, a man who knew when to pick his battles, and when not too. “Very well. You’re roof, you’re decision.”

Jon could only watch as the man took his leave, Ser Davos not quite following as he turned halfway to watch until Stannis was out the door and back. “I think finally being a grandfather is making him soft.”

Were that not such a drastic image in his head compared to what soft meant to most men, Jon might have laughed instead of looking at Ser Davos incredulously. “That’s Stannis being soft?”

Tilting his head in an understanding amusement, he let the smirk come out more freely as well. “I’m the one who set Gendry free, you know. More then anyone else I knew how angry he was about it, and more then a few times did he bring it up as if I robbed him of a great opportunity.” Asking low of an opportunity for what, he appreciated how blunt Davos was. “The red woman put it in his head that she could perform her blood magic better with Kings Blood, and having him as a prisoner could mean she’d be able to use him for anything, including kill him in the name of her damned fire god.” Before Jon could say anything, he rounded himself back to the point. “I’d say his reaction to learning you let her hide Gendry here and not say anything, was basically nothing compared to how he’d feel just weeks ago.”

It wasn’t meant as a slight, Jon of all people understood that your family was as complicated as they came, but it was an awkward truth. “He’s been here for days, and he’s spent almost no time with the baby.”

The grimace was warranted from Ser Davos as he mentioned you by name. “During the war, the King went back and forth on the subject of if he wanted her as his heir or not. Now that they actually speak again, she’s all but told him she wants nothing to do with the Iron Throne, and now he watches her have a male heir of her own for a Kingdom that isn’t the one Stannis was fighting to rule. Not alone, at least.”

Jon made no comment on that, nor did Ser Davos say it for him to make any sort of point over it. But it was only honesty that came from Jon when he said it. “We didn’t have him because he would be my heir.” There was a narrowing in his grey eyes, but too something more raw. A confusion of why people kept looking at you three and assuming thats why he existed. “We had him because we wanted too, because I’ve always wanted a child with her. He’s not my heir he’s...just my son.”

A man of low birth and humble beginnings, as he put a comforting hand on his shoulder, Jon knew that Ser Davos of all people said it solely because he meant it in his heart too. “Most highborns in the south raise their oldest child like an heir. To some, Stannis included, they have a hard time looking at that child just as they are. He raised Shireen like a daughter.” Your name coming from his mouth with more of a grim truth. “But he didn’t raise her like one. Between you and me, I’d say he raised her with a bit of resentment. That she wasn’t born a boy. Having an heir would’ve been a lot easier for him if she had.”

A weight sat in Jons heart. You had said something similar, many months ago beyond the Wall. That you suspected your father always wished you were born a boy, but here a man so close to your fathers side echoed that very sentiment.

It didn’t help the feeling, but Jon suddenly could think of you and realize the problems always seemed to stem from much deeper inside you. How you think the people only ever look at you and see a Queen, how you still struggle to see past the fact that Jon looked at you as more then just a dutiful wife, and the simple fact that you were raised thinking that you were your fathers failed heir.

With everything in between, there was too much noise in your life. But you were more then that to Jon, more then all of that, you were everything to him. But you put nothing but title and duty and responsibility on your shoulders every time something happened, so maybe he thought, he needed to, just at least once, take all of that away from you.

And the wolf howling inside of Jon, had a dark and perverse way of knowing just how to do it.

You knew he heard you come inside, the door closing slowly behind you and the light footsteps approaching but Jon was content as he worked away it seemed, to just know you were there. Turned away, you could see his shoulders a bit tense, and were you to turn him to face you no doubt there would be a deep frown etched into his features which more then likely he had tried to run his hand exasperated over his face and failed to wipe the frustration off.

Laying happily against the fur before the fire, Ghost rose his head up as you approached. Hands and nails running freely over the fur by his ears. Leaning more and more into you, almost knocking you over with his sheer size with how he nudged his head more into your crouching front as if to cuddle. Were he standing no doubt he’d have done so. More of a huff left the direwolf, his eyes slipping closed as he lay back down against the fur much more content then he had been before.

Gently did you take off your heavier outer layers, fur cloak and warmer dress with just something lighter and soft underneath, watching Jon now, the whole time. For a moment did you stand by the cabinet wondering if he wished you to leave him in silence, when as if reading your mind did he speak with a tint of playfulness. “Will you come here already?”

A withheld smile came over you, coming up you let a hand come up to his hair, curls still up from the day and working to let them loose without really even considering it. Looking over his shoulder to him, your eyes naturally found their way to his work before quickly diverting back away. Only for Jon to chuckle, smirking as he didn’t even look up at you. “You’re allowed to read my letters.” Mumbling you didn’t want to invade his work, Jon only smirked more. “First you want to ease my workload by doing things like this for me, now you worry you’re not allowed to even know what I’m doing?”

The smile on you was soft, knowing the judgment in his tone was jesting far more then it was meaning. Still letting your fingers run through his curls, once again you wondered if in the next few days if he’d want the ends trimmed. Getting too long, was normally when Jon would tend to keep it up for much longer into the night not wishing to deal with it all. Your only response to his words as light in tone as he set it as. “I only want to do what’s best for you.”

Brows narrowing, Jon let the quill hover mid air before setting it down flat to look up at you. Not yet finding the words, he pushed back in his seat. Only as you went to give him room to stand, did Jon grab you by the arm, and yanked you down into his lap. A surprised yelp came along with a laughing scold of his name, Jon let his laugh out much more brightly and free as he turned you. Sitting across him with your arms around his shoulders and back of his neck, Jon grabbed your hips to make you face him more, your lower back now pressed against the wood of the desk.

One hand moving up to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, Jon trailed down its length still, toying with it before slinking up to cup your cheek. Muttering with his eyes roaming gently over what he could see of you, despite how yours stayed on the wandering greys no matter where they went or why. “Eddard?”

Your fingertips toyed a little with his curls in return. “With Bran and your sisters, like you suggested.” Only muttering a simple good, Jon continued to just let his eyes wander you freely as his thumb gently ran back and forth over the soft skin it touched at your cheek. Other hand on your hip warm and steady to keep you there. “May I ask why?”

Jon was good at getting the point. “Because I wanted you all to myself, and having our son here means I’m always fighting him for your attention.” Instantly you laughed, Jon following in a way that always made him look so handsome, such bright eyes as he did so like a laugh on him was a rare beauty. “Do you think I’m exaggerating? How often does he get mad at me when I kiss you?”

Leaning more towards him, Jon followed, the sides of your head resting against the other, Jon now able to run his hand freely down the hair along your back. “He’s just protective. Which he gets from you, you know.”

You felt his chuckle more then you could see it that time, but it was there all the same. “Which is why he’s not here. Our son would be very upset if he knew what I was planning on doing to his mother tonight.” A shiver ran down your spine, swallowing something devious as it only filled your blood and travelled to every corner of your veins, asking what that plan was exactly. Jon remained calm, not giving away at all what was in his mind, hand still smoothing down your hair. “It’s something I’ve mentioned before, but it’s alright if you don’t remember it.”

Pulling back, you looked at him more confused. “What are you talking about?”

Nudging you closer, Jon let his nose gently nudge at yours with a whispering rasp. “We’ll get there, don’t worry.” His lips meeting with yours before you had a chance to ask anything further, melting into his kiss and touch in an instant.

Your hands wrapping more firmly around the back of his neck, you felt Jon sift his fingers through the locks of your hair at the back of your head. Guiding you to follow, he didn’t yet deepen the kiss but refused you any air to move. Hands tightening where you held at him, and Jons hand on your hip too tightened as he bit at your bottom lip.

Only as you gasped, such an instinct to allow his tongue to slide inside your mouth did Jon not continue, but coax you slow back to something more chaste. Small nibbles did he bite as if teasing what he had done before, the sounds between you barley managing to include your small needs to breath until he bit at you once more, but harder. Were it any harder, it may have even drawn blood but pushed right to that edge with his kiss without ever letting you fall off of it.

Suddenly yanking you from his lips, Jon leaned forward as he turned your head slightly to the side. That rough need found the sensitive skin of your neck. Deep bites of his teeth followed by a sucking feeling as it to bruise along with the sharp marks made. Gasping out into the open air, a charged tingling ran from your neck down to your chest. From there a desire flooded your bloodstream only to increase as Jon further moved along, further marked your neck with a viciousness.

Only a brief gentle brush of his tongue and lips before he’d move on as a tiny soothe to his roughness, but still did he work you over harsher then even your nails dug into the skin of the back of his neck you held him at. You felt yourself leaning enough to give him more room, but with Jons grip on your hair you could barley move.

Shifting you by your hip did Jon move with you. Hidden beneath the layers, still could you feel a growing pressure that had Jon bite down rather harshly the moment he too moved you he could grind you down onto his growing length. The gasp from you sharp, as Jon pulled away from your neck but not at all ceasing his other movements. Cupping your cheek, he turned you to him with gentle shushes on his lips. “I’m sorry, darling, I know.”

Not even granting you the protest he knew you’d give for his rough treatment, he captured you in a kiss once more. That time it was much slower, guiding your lips to mould with his as he deepened it without the urgency of before. His hands though, both now were at your hips, subtle as he moved you down onto his covered cock.

Pulling back enough to rasp low, “Come on.” His hold moving you to stand up with him, steadying you on your feet with you grabbing more to his shoulders. Wide eyes looking up at him, Jon cupped both your cheeks. Bright his face shined but with something that one could mistaken as sad, if not the tighter hold he took of you, standing close enough you could feel his breath hot dance across your skin. “I need to take all this off you.”

Gesturing down to your dress, Jon kissed you once more to steal away your breath. Sliding down your neck on one side, the other where his teeth had sunk into you did he trace along your hair instead before seeking your dress. Hands quick as he let go of your kiss to grab at the skirt and instantly move to pull it up and off of you. Wasting not a second, as if in a hurry did he follow with your shift leaving you bare in the cold of his chambers.

Swallowing, Jon held at your waist looking down with black bleeding into the grey of his wandering eyes. Smooth his palm was running from your waist up and down to your hip once more, before your voice soft and a bit unsure seemed to break the spell. “Jon?” Eyes peering up at you, you hoped he could see the nerves flowing through you at his silence. Your hands grasped lightly at the belt strapped across his person still.

As if once he had gotten in, he removed his weapons and had not the mind to do a single other thing to get comfortable. Instead of letting him wash you over with a fluster of a comment he could make, you made a point to look down and back to his eyes. He only nodded a yes.

Cold and bare you stood there, taking the time and care you always did undressing him, and not even sparing how much you were respectful of his clothes when Jon had simply tossed your own to the side when he had it off your skin. Kneeling down to his boots, you exhaled with hope it was silent as you felt his hand run along your hair.

Truthfully, you had thought nothing of it. Reaching for the laces of his breeches, only to have your hands snatched by his. “Don’t.” You couldn’t grasp how much you had made his cock throb, the wide innocence as you peered up at him while bare on your knees, an ask in your eyes as if wondering what you did wrong. Shaking his head, his rasp came strained. “We’re not doing that. I don’t know if I can even trust you with that again.”

Waving through your heart was something full of an immense guilt right away, Jon only pulled you to your feet. Tilting you by your chin to look at up at him right as you spoke. “I’m so sorry, Jon. I promise, I am.”

Leaning to brush his nose down yours, he sounded just as strained but with that tenderness which came you warm still in your heart. “I know you are, but..it’ll take time. It’s not easy trying to make sure you’re alright when you do that, and last time I completely missed that you weren’t.” Trying to protest that wasn’t his fault, Jon again cupped your cheeks. “You didn’t want me to notice, but that’s on me. I should’ve known better. That I struggle to go easy on you. You were hoping that would happen, but I never should’ve let it get that far.”

Your hands held at his shoulders, muscles tense from trying not to fidget so openly despite how you had to bite down on your lip just to stop it from a quiver. “Are..will you never want me to..”

Brushing his lips to yours, it was barley what you could call a kiss as he mumbled against them. “Until I can trust you with you’re own well being, I’m taking care of you from now on. Not the other way around, and that’s final.” You once more, couldn’t know how much Jons cock begged to be released from their restraints at how you had obediently nodded in agreement.

Everytime it was an order he gave you, you never questioned it and it drove Jon mad. Especially when it had to do with this.

Nudging you backwards as he told you to lay back on the bed, Jon only watched with darkening eyes as you slowly did so. The fur against your back was soft and comforting, the opposite of the darkness watching you. Until you were laid back, propped up with your palms behind you did Jon reach for the laces of his breeches.

He never blinked as he undid them, not as he slowly dragged them off his person. No words, and barley a blink before Jon suddenly moved up onto the bed hovering over you so close it pushed you down onto your back once more. Grasping at your jaw, Jon kissed you with an urgency. All but shoving his tongue into your mouth, your hands flew up grasping at his shoulders desperately.

His curls acting as a curtain, hiding your kiss from any of the no one watching. Kneeling more to the bed, Jon wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you more up to press your front to his. The urge in his own mind to forego his plan, and yank you up onto his lap right there and sink deep inside of you, but he had to contain himself. He had a plan.

Your legs shifted on either side of him, one thigh resting up by his hip as the other somewhat wrapped around his calm. Jons tongue deep as he brushed against yours, pulling back only to mock you with the temptation of giving you air then not ever allowing it. He controlled it all. Your nails dug into his skin as you felt his cock hard brush between your legs. Not paying any mind to it, Jon held a skill in ignoring his burning need as long as he was entangled with you in one way or another.

Slowly, did he move. Grabbing a hand from his shoulder, Jon pressed it into the bed, intertwining your fingers before slowly doing the same to the other. Pushed down into the fur, his own lips more red and swollen from how roughly he treated you, and gasps from your own looking no doubt more abused. Without you even noticing, occupying your mind blind with his kiss rough and deep, gentle brushes of his tongue against yours before refusing you more, you hadn’t at all noticed.

Until suddenly did Jons hands and fingers intertwined with yours, did you feel he was moving until he suddenly pulled them high. Crossing one wrist against the other as one large hand kept a firm grip of it. Pulling back to look down at you, your chest heaving almost as if mocking him with how little he’d been able to touch them to his greed and pleasure. His voice was a rough rasp as he sought your eyes, black staring back at you enough to nearly stop your lungs.

“Tell me no at anytime, do you understand?” Taken back by how intense he suddenly felt over top of you, Jon much more sternly called your name. “Tell me you understand, that you say no at any moment, and I stop right away.” But you didn’t say that, with something nervous and meek on your mind did you only ask Jon what he was about to do, but his head tilted slightly with a narrowing disapproval, he needed you to just say it.

“I understand.”

Barley muttering a good, Jon pressed his lips to yours once more before pulling back, mumbling into them, “Don’t move.” You read the unspoken second command, don’t watch so blatantly what he was about to do. Eyes forcing themselves to the stone ceiling, your hands itched to reach down and grasp at something to ground the nerves and want between your legs. Only as Jon returned, you felt him put something onto the bed without looking up to see.

Coming back to you, now sitting more at your side did Jon run a hand down the side of your face, touch gentle as he looked down at you. With a hesitation, his brows furrowed in what you could see was a self doubt. “Jon?”

Flying up to meet your gaze, something innocent within them once more made Jons blood run hot. Rasping as he traced along your jaw, “I need you to trust me, alright?”

Your words did not help how hard he was, “I always trust you.”

You couldn’t grasp what he was doing at first, almost thinking he was going to kiss you again until you felt something drape along your skin, and then nothing. A soft material shielding your eyes, your heart begun to race more instantly. Muttering his name, almost a brief panic at how little you could feel he was there, but the moment he seemed to tie the knot behind your head, you felt his warmth. One palm braced on the other side of your body as he leaned down to leave a chaste kiss to your lips. “We don’t have to-”

“No, don’t stop.” Almost wondering if your phrasing may have confused him, your mind muddled with trying to put together the mystery of what he was doing, the blindfold only ever being done once before in a drastically different setting. So you stammered through a breathlessness trying to rephrase. “I mean, keep going. Please..”

Without you seeing, he nodded before remembering you couldn’t see. What part of Jon that still felt a man, reminding himself to take care of you. That you will need his touch and voice significantly more then usual, not being able to see him. “Two more things, alright?” You nodded, and suddenly you felt a softer material across your wrists.

Tying your raised arms to the headboard, you stuttered a breath as your heart pounded. He said two, what more could he possible do? What more could people do with one another that you-

Only you figured it out, as you felt something at your ankle, rougher material. Not scratching or even tight. In fact the tie on your wrists was tight enough they couldn’t move, but whatever he tied around your ankle was slack a bit. Until you felt him pull, moving your leg to something wide open, a fluster coming over you almost instantly. Because then Jon did the same but the other.

Experimenting, you tried moving your leg, able enough to somewhat bend it at the knee, but nowhere near enough to close them, or even slightly. Jon did do three more things, tie every part of you that could move after taking your sight away. One again he draped over your top half, a hand running down your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts and gently caressing over your scar as he rasped so close to your ear. “Tonight, you aren’t doing anything. I’ll do all the work, you just lay right there, okay?”

You could feel his other hand run down your hair more as you bit your lip with a nod. Only to be prompted to use your words. Mustering through your nerves and racing heart only, “Okay..” Before Jon pressed his lips to yours.

The hand on your stomach rising up to cup your cheek, his soft lips were slow. Almost methodical as he kissed you again and again, the hand on your cheek sliding down to your neck, tracing along your collarbones once more. But this time, just as his tongue brushed your lip, did his hand gently grasp at your breast, pulling a high pitched gasp.

Lips pressing to yours once, then your cheek as he leaned down to murmur in your ear, “I know they’re still sensitive. I won’t do anything else.” Hardly a grope, just a gentle squeeze of what he had in his hand, he knew to be careful. The shiver down your spine made your core awaken with a startle. wetness already between your legs, the need to hide it by pressing your thighs together now taken from you so completely that it made his gentle touch to your breasts even more overwhelming.

Pressing his lips down the marked side of your neck, you could hear him muffled with something of a growl in his voice. “You shouldn’t look so beautiful like this.” Never his teeth, but your lips fell parted open as he allowed his kiss down each bruised mark to be sloppy to soothe the leftover sting. “Makes me want to never let them heal.”

Along your skin he trailed them without failure, a hand running along your side as he moved. Your breath held as his lips reached your breasts, but only a lingering kiss to the skin there before moving along down your sternum as his voice softened. “Why you ever want to be on your knees for me, when it’s nowhere near as good for you as what you give me..”

Trying to sound confident, but it only came out with a heavy need being muttered out. “I want you to feel good too..”

You couldn’t be sure how he had moved, but you felt both hands now on your legs stretched wide, pushing up ever so slightly to the little amount you could bend them. Before Jons lips kissed a path along your scar and paused the moment he reached your mound. “You can live without that, but I could never give this up. I’d go mad without being able to taste you, darling.”

A sound wanted to come from you, but biting down on your lip trying to prevent it despite Jons breath so hot between your legs. Closer his lips had gotten, before he hovered right over your clit. Being forced to wait there, not a clue that Jons eyes were overtaken with a darkness, his hands braced on your thighs as he could stare at the wetness between your legs with greed.

Tighter and tighter his grip got until without a shred of mercy did he move. Tongue running flat against your clit, sparking something burning inside of you as you wished you could jump away from it, but his lips only followed. Sucking at the bundle of nerves in a way that felt as if he was making up for what sparing your breasts he had. He could be content without one, if he could have this.

A rough hand sliding to your hip by your ass, did the other follow before Jon kept you steady from even writhing against the burning need. Tongue running over your clit in whatever way had forced that cry from your chest out into the world with a startling beg. His name your only words, but it pleaded into the air as he dragged you to an orgasm with a stinging pleasure to your clit.

Barley letting his teeth scrape against it before his tongue soothed the feeling, your mind felt foggy at how quick it came. Hands tense against the headboard your toes curled in as your head fell back as much as it could. A wave washing over, being drawn in and out of the shore again and again as your orgasm flowed. Jons tongue soaking your clit, letting it burn as he treated you almost as if a kiss.

Again and again did Jon draw you to your end from that alone, only to feel him move you what felt like shoving you higher against the bed before his mouth found it’s true desire. The wetness between you in amounts Jon could drink for days, parched with a thirst and you were the one thing he needed to keep him going. A greed in how much he ran his tongue along you, how much he refused to let a drop escape him no matter how much he had to pull you into his mouth closer.

A growl left, as his hands gripped your plush skin with a force that would leave bruises of his fingerprints. Vibrating against your soaking walls, and twisting the core within you faster, but truly it never unwound properly. He kept you slipping from one orgasm to the next, his mouth there to taste every single bit it would give. The taste so addictive against his tongue, Jon could feel even with his eyes closed, them rolling into the back of his head.

Your back trying to arch as he guided you to another end, no idea who had caused you to have so much of a wetness, you from his mouth or just his mouth alone against you without ever drawing up for so much as air. Begging his name, your head felt light and far away, only Jons touch between you existing.

Neither of you held a clue how long he kept you there, hands trapping you against his mouth as the only sounds in the room beyond your breathless begs was his greeding, merciless tasting.

Small you spoke out, barley able to speak through each cry for him. “Jon, it’s so much..I- I-” Cutting yourself off both times, you feared the nonsensical beg that you couldn’t take it but you could not fathom a world beyond Jons touch. But your very words brought that into existence with your heart racing, hands clenching tight unable to move as he pulled from you.

The soaking between you was cold in the air, but his words breathed hot so close that Jon interrupted his own words between sentences to run his tongue along you more. “I know it’s a lot..but you need to be good for me.” You nodded, but Jon growled with what sounded akin to anger of your name. “That’s not a suggestion, darling. Just lay there, and be good.”

You nearly begged out, “I promise,” more the once before he finally sunk back to drenching your cunt with his mouth.

In Jons own mind, it was just like when you let him sit you on top of his mouth. He knew you had no idea that this was dangerous. How much Jon could stay there and refuse to let you go. Taste you until you were crying begs and pleading for him to stop, but even if you did, he still would slide inside of you before it was over. Jon had soaked you so much that he groaned into your cunt with the thought, that not even his size would hurt with how wet you were for him.

And even so, you never begged anything more. You cried, and moaned, and let out high pitched whines at the burning inside of you each time he dragged his tongue inside of you. Sweat built to a sheen over your skin and dampened your hair before he stopped.

Sucking roughly at your clit once more before moving from your cunt. Not sending where he was, Jon all but leaped up to grab at your jaw. His kiss rough and bruising as he bit once more at your lips, that time, he was the one certain he might have drawn blood. But he ignored it, beyond the whine you gave him that had his cock throb. His tongue deep inside your mouth, making you taste what you gifted him.

Never would you understand his desire, but he tried every single time to make you understand what you had caused him to be endlessly, helplessly addicted too.

But then he muttered into your lips, his hands on your thighs suddenly sunk two thick fingers deep inside of you at the same instance. “That’s my girl.” Your heart felt it was bursting out of your chest, how he spoke to you and yet how little you considered that he had tied you and blinded you to his complete control. Thrusting them deep, he pulled them close to leaving your warmth before a third joined as his rasp was as thick as his accent was rough. “You are perfect for me, it doesn’t matter what I do, you were meant to take me.”

Nodding, Jon rewarded your agreement with a deep, lingering kiss before your legs shook in place as another orgasm was dragged through you with each deep thrust of his fingers in and out of you. Only dragging them out as long as it took for them utterly soaked to cup you.

You could feel Jon moving, but not a clue how or what but you laid there not even the thought in your head to question him. Without any warning, the moment his soaking hand grasped at your hip, did he replace the feeling with his length. Sliding deep inside you, soaked not even with as tight as you were around him, did you give a single bit of resistance. His cock so thick that it always stung but he had done every bit of work to ensure it wouldn’t this time.

Jon knelt on his knees before you, lips parted as he could barley catch his breath, let his other hand run tight against your clit and with that and but a single thrust did you ruin him. Walls clenching around his cock did he nearly hold you down against the bed. “Fuck, darling.. you can’t do this to me right away..”

He could see your hands desperately trying to grasp something to no avail, and the question truly burned in his mind if he was willing to give that to you. From where he knelt, so slowly did he drag his cock along your sensitive walls, that high pitched cry from your lips so beautiful to him that he sunk back just as deep, just as slow.

When he planned this, Jon hadn’t thought he’d take this pace. He thought he’d fuck you, truly fuck you like a wolf does his mate but something about taking you this slow and gentle had his heart burst from his chest with a loving need. Truthfully, he didn’t imagine many men enjoyed this. That many men ever would tolerate going this slow, but smoothly sinking his cock in and out of your soaking cut Jon looked down to the sight.

His hands tight on your hips, but otherwise his eyes were wide. Mouth somewhat agape as he watched his length sink inside you again and again. Your mind had become such a fog of pleasure, Jon wondered if it even registered in your head how obscenely wet it sounded each time he sunk deep back inside of you.

Jon did this because he needed you to trust he could take care of you exactly as you needed, but it wasn’t until his cock was surrounded by your warm tight walls, did Jon realize that you needed him to be slow and gentle as much as he needed it too.

Carefully, without ever stopping did Jon move himself to hover over top of you. One palm braced into the furs, sinking almost deeper each time from this angle as your legs couldn’t even think to close on him. Capturing your lips in a kiss, it was as slow as his pace.

Tongue brushing against yours with a patience, not to overwhelm you the way he knew you felt being filled with him. Pulling back, the saliva between you both not even severed as he rasped, “I’ve got you, darling. I’ve always had you.” Begging his name with a weakness in your throat, Jon kissed you once more.

His hips thrusting again and again inside of you with an excruciating pace to the wolf within his chest, but Jon again pulled back to look down at you, not even seeing your eyes and past that darkness his heart a man almost tore at him. You trusted him with everything that he took all of your control away and never once did you assume he’d take advantage of that.

He couldn’t. Again and again his cock filled you, but never could Jon consider doing anything but making love to you with every way he could prove how deep that ran. How much you had always meant to him. Resting his forehead against yours, not any part of him cared at how needing it sounded as he fucked you. “You have no idea how much I love you.” Hips moving perhaps a bit faster, enough that a cry left you once more which he had to soothe with a kiss. “I need you, darling. I’ve always needed you..”

Not even allowing you to answer, he pressed his lips to yours. Your cunt clenching around him and Jon knew you were so close he could taste it. Keeping that pace, again and again his cock thrusted deep, pulling only halfway before he had to feel you completely once more. “It doesn’t matter whats coming our way, I’ll protect you. I promise.”

As your orgasm burned and blazed around you, Jon was so relieved did he too find his end right with you. As deep as he could did Jon spill inside of you. His seed thick and hot as he let his hips grind into you, his kiss not sparing you the treatment.

Shaking around as each wave after wave you came, Jon let his hand fly up. Grasping tightly at both of yours as much as you both could hold at the other. Even when Jon filled you as much as he could, he didn’t stop. Not the slow pace, not how much he refused to pull out of you in any amount before he needed his cock as deep as you could take him again.

Once more, neither of you knew how long he kept you there, feeling as if it was a never ending moment refusing to change a single thing about how he fucked you. Easing you into him stopping, Jon could tell your mind was a fog.

Suddenly did you feel as if he left you with no warning, despite how long Jon eased out of you, but your mind couldn’t grasp it. Lifting off of you, a weak beg of his name did Jon kiss you again, his hand running along your hair caressingly. “I’m right here, I just need to untie you.” Before he did so, did he allow the blindfold to free your sight once more.

Fuzzy the world felt, but his grey eyes all you needed to feel calm once more. Arms, then legs were you free as Jon turned you into his front. Laying you both on your sides, he carefully placed your legs apart enough that it wouldn’t overwhelm you with what he knew would be sensitive as soon as the rest of your mind returned.

Your hands draped along his chest, scars somehow comforting under your palms as he hid you in his chest, and his own face in your hair with presses of his lips and murmuring words to bring you down back to him.

It was possible you fell asleep, as when a knock came to the door, you felt as if you had been startled awake. Running his hand over your hair, Jon muttered into your ear. “It’s alright, they’re bringing the baby.” Nodding, Jon whispered once more when you looked up with something filling your nerves as he pulled away. “Hey, come on now.” Pulling the furs over top of you, Jon kissed your forehead before meeting your eyes. “I’ll be right back, and I’ll bring Eddard with me.”

His breeches tossed on but lose, and a soft shirt of a grey dark enough it matched his eyes did he return to you with. Senses more awake, the sound of a little noise of nonsense pulled a gentle smile on you. Keeping the fur pulled high did Jon slink down onto the bed beside you with a playful glint in his eye. “It appears our son doesn’t want my attention.”

A laugh left both of you, as he carefully let little Eddard into your arms. Much like how you awoke that morning, Jon let his arm wrap around your back under the fur, pulling you close as he rested his head somewhat atop yours. The quiet and the baby all you both needed before a weight made itself known on Jons side of the bed.

Before you could even look, did you hear him louder try and protest, “Ghost-” But coming to your feet was the presence of the large direwolf. So large that his head lay down on the furs atop one of your legs and Jons. His own eyes narrowed but playful, as both white wolves pretended they were frustrated with the other to no convincing. Jons free hand now preoccupied with Ghost, did someone else too try.

Eddards little arms tried reaching out to Ghost, whom when he lifted his head did you and Jon subtly shift forward so he could actually reach. The scene was all Jon needed. No matter what was outside those doors, the Long Night could come and rage beyond control but as he sat there, his direwolf, his son and his girl, the little pack he always wanted, he could pretend for now that this was perfect.

And maybe it was, as long as you and Jon both could ignore that ever since coming back from the far North, did it feel as if the nightmares came each and every night to haunt you for it. For going that far north in the first place, or for leaving it, that was what neither of you could figure out.

Each night Jon had been trying to let that nightmare go further and further, he knew what each dream showed him until the battle leaving him dead in a field of green. It wasn’t a vision of the future he knew, but maybe if he let the nightmares fester a little while longer he may figure that out.

That was until his eyes slipped closed that night, you tucked firmly back into his arms, did Jons dream finally show him purple eyes, hair of silver.

The nightmare, a memory that certainly did not belong to him.

[desiderio-dixon]

Darkest Before the Dawn

Chapter two : Wildflowers

Pairing : Daryl Dixon x f!reader (endgame), (unrequited) Glenn Rhee x f!reader

Series summary : When Glenn Rhee comes into your life, you become convinced he's a guardian angel sent by your late best friend. You think he's your soulmate. But then he falls for the farmer's daughter, and you find that your own angel may be a little more blatant than expected; wings and all.

Chapter summary : As time passes, you grow more concerned about the group in Atlanta. Daryl faces an internal conflict while hunting.

Chapter warnings : I believe just language? Please let me know if you notice anything else!

Word count : 1.6k (I wanted this one to be longer but it felt too cluttered, so the next chapter will just come in quick succession)

A/N : Thank you so much for all the positive reception on the first chapter! I'm open to starting a taglist for this series if anyone's interested. Just send me an ask :)

Series masterlist

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

When Carol returns, she hands you two mini Hershey's chocolate bars. "Courtesy of Sophia," She tells you with a gentle smile.

You gave your best smile in return. "I'll have to thank her later."

After eating the candy, you started to feel a bit better. Carol stayed with you until you declared you were going back to your tent, trying to catch a couple more hours of rest.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

When you awoke, a few hours had passed. Enough for the sun to emerge from the horizon and the camp to grow lively with the sounds of everyone starting their day.

Crawling out of your tent, you were satisfied to find that your head didn't spin. Really must've been an episode of low sugar; thank god for Carol. You should find both her and Daryl, to thank them for their help.

You find Carol pouring dry cereal into bowls for the kids at a picnic table. Mischievously, you sneak behind Carl to snag a freeze-dried marshmallow from his bowl. "Hey!" He calls, a pout heavy on his lips while you toss it into your mouth. You stick your tongue out at him, ruffling his hair. He makes a face, but sinks back into easy conversation with Sophia in no time.

Turning to Carol, you find her eyes already on you. She's staring at you with an emotion you can't quite place, but it seems sweet and somber simultaneously.

She pours you your own bowl wordlessly. When she hands it to you, you place it on the table behind you before grabbing her hands in your own. You regret the sudden movement instantly, when she briefly flinches before relaxing into your gentle touch.

"Thank you for earlier, I don't know what I would've done without you." You say with a genuine smile and a tone of exasperation. She nods, returning your smile. You let her hands go, sitting down on the bench with your bowl of cereal.

Sophia sits on your left, enthusing with Carl about one of her dolls, kicking her feet and shoveling spoonfuls of sugary cereal between words. You eat your cereal silently while you wait for her rant to come to an end. This is a very important topic, after all.

Finally, she concludes the telling of her doll's very intricate backstory. "Sophia," You call gently. "Your mom lent me a couple of your candybars this morning. I promise I'll bring you a king size bar soon!" You wink. She giggles and nods, ever the shy kid.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

After breakfast, you decided to try and track down Daryl to give him your thanks. Weaving through tents and trees to reach the far end of the quarry, you arrive at the Dixon campsite. To your displeasure, there's no Daryl in sight. Only Merle, sitting on a tree stump cleaning his rifle. He doesn't look up when you approach, and you debate just turning back. But, Daryl truly does deserve your thanks and you want to be sure he receives it. "Where's Daryl?"

Merle chuckles, hands stilling over the rifle on his lap. He looks up at you over his brow-bone with a smirk. "Wasn't sure my baby brother had it in him," His chesire grin only grows when you scoff and roll your eyes. It's not like that with Daryl and you're certain he knows that too. "Oh, cmon, sugar! I ain't one to get in the way of young love! Sorry to say, though, Darylina ain't here. Went huntin' before the sun." So that's why Daryl was fully dressed in the early hours of morning. You suppress a sigh of disappointment at your failed mission, knowing that would only egg on Merle's teasing.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

Word had spread quickly around camp about your early morning escapades (though you'd hardly label it that as it wasn't quite exciting) and you'd been sternly grounded; no runs for the near future.

As the group prepared for their journey to Atlanta, your heart felt heavy. Nothing quite prepares you for just how boring the apocalypse is, especially when your favorite person is going on a run without you.

You flick the rim of Glenn's cap, standing in front of him next to the van. He swats your hand away gently, always careful with you. This is the first time he's gone on a run without you since he found you, and you're not sure what to say. 'Goodbye, hope you come back alive.'? 'Good luck not getting torn apart by the living dead.'?

Glenn beats you to the punch. "I'll see you later." He says, casually. Something about the way it's so easy for him feels like a knife twisting in your gut. You know he's an optimist, you know he believes he's going to see you later, but it hurts to think that he's not as worried about never seeing you again as you are. Overall, you're reminded that you're nothing but a friend to him. One he's only known for a month.

"Yeah, I guess I'll see you later." You breathe, lump forming in your throat when he just grins at you before hopping into the back of the van.

You walk away before you can watch it leave.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

The day seems to drone on, time moving slowly. You're holding a variety of tools for Dale, handing them off to him each time he makes a request. He and Jim have their heads firmly pointed into the hood of the Winnebago. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, Dale sighs exasperatedly. "Boy, that hose isn't long for this world, is it?"

Jim shakes his head solemnly. "No, sir." Dale hands you back a variety of tools for you to tuck into the toolbox at your feet. He slams the hood shut.

"Where the hell are we gonna find a replacement?"

"Maybe Glenn and I could find an auto store in the city." You offer, shrugging. Dale had made a great friend and mentor; you think you'd do just about anything to make that old man happy. Including risking your life for a damn radiator hose.

"It's late. They should be back by now." Amy yells over. You agree. There's been a nagging sense of concern in the back of your mind. Your trips never take this long.

Dale looks to Amy with an empathetic expression. "Worrying won't make it better." He tells her. The words weren't meant for you but you let them resonate. Worrying won't make it better.

When garbled speech starts to spew over the radio, Dale snatches it up. "Hello? Hello? Reception's bad on this end. Repeat, repeat." He yells into the radio. There's a crowd now gathered around, awaiting a response from the other end. You'd gotten a strange signal the day before but even still you were certain this time it was your group.

More unintelligible speaking comes through. "Is that them?" Lori asks. The next message is clearer. T-dog is speaking, something about trapped and the department store. Your heart sinks to the soles of your feet at what that may imply for their fate. Dale tries once more to get a clearer message when the radio cuts out completely, leaving everyone with a pool of anxiety in their chest.

There's minimal chatter before Shane shuts down the thought of sending help immediately. "No way," He says. "We do not go after them. We do not risk the rest of the group. Y'all know that."

Amy's face turns from scared to red hot rage. "So, we're just gonna leave her there?" You watch Shane, who frankly looks agitated by Amy's reaction. He runs his hand through his hair, the other one placed firmly on his hip.

"Look, Amy, I know this isn't easy."

Amy cuts him off before he can finish that thought. "She volunteered to go to help the rest of us!"

Shane sighs. "I know, and she knew the risks, right?" The question hangs in silence for a second before he goes on. "See, if she's trapped, she's gone. So, we just have to deal with that. There's nothing we can do." You scoff at that.

Amy has a stronger reaction. "She's my sister, you son of a bitch!" She yells before turning and stomping off. Lori goes after her.

"And what about Glenn?" You ask Shane. He doesn't answer. "You people wouldn't have half of the shit here if it wasn't for him." You spit. Just then, thunder begins to rumble in the distance, and you retreat to your tent to wait out the incoming storm.

In classic southern fashion, the rain comes and goes just as quickly. You decide to stay in your tent, worry implanting in the back of your skull keeping you from wanting to socialize. The cheesy romance novel you found on your last run is all the company you'll need for now. A nice distraction from the images of your friends, trapped in Atlanta, being torn apart.

You've read two chapters when you hear it. A blaring car alarm and rock music. Louder than anything you've heard since the bombs dropped.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

Daryl feels stupid. He barely knows you, certainly doesn't like you. But here he is, staring at a patch of wildflowers. You'd like them, he thinks. He's noticed that embroidered patch on your bag. Flowers of all different pastel hues, some spots stained with dried blood. He crouches over them, pulling his knife from his belt.

His fingers stutter where he goes to slice the stems. It's what people do, right? A 'get well soon' gesture. He's nearly cutting it when a groan sounds behind him. It breaks him out of his trance. Standing, he scoffs, stomping on the flowers. He uses the same knife to plunge into the walker's skull. He doesn't know you, and he's sure as hell not going to be seen carrying around a bundle of flowers to give to a girl.

[ghoul-bonez]

~You Are Home~

(Neteyam x Fem! Na’vi! Reader)

Summary: After Neteyam is injured in the battle against the sky people you have one priority, to kill Quaritch…

Word Count: 3.8k

Author’s Note: LAST ONE LAST ONE LAST ONE‼️WOOOOOO‼️‼️‼️ I really really enjoyed writing it so thank you all SO MUCH for following this and allowing me to do what I love <3

~Last - Next~

~Series Masterlist~

~Main Masterlist~

You Are Home

As you were resting, relaxing, healing, you had taken up a few new hobbies. Some of your favorite hobbies, like archery and exploring new places, required standing, running around, being active, which you were barred from doing right now. You were frustrated with Ronal’s instructions to stay home and rest, but you did not dare go against her.

You had taken up weaving, something you had never thought you would enjoy, or really learn to do. You mostly made bracelets and necklaces, but would sometimes mend broken fishing nets or clothes people would bring you.

Your favorite part was watching the joy on people’s faces when you showed them your work. At first it was sloppy, when you were just making small bracelets which you would gift to Tuk or Kiri, but they still loved them. Then as you got better and started mending things for people the look of gratitude as they tanked you fueled you. The fact that you were helping people fueled you.

Unable to spar with your hunting knives, or shoot arrows with your bow, you felt useless. You felt defenseless. Any time you would think about the sky people returning your gut would twist. You thought about how you could struggle through a fight off the ground, but if you could fight while down that would make things a lot easier, so you decided to learn how to make throwing knives.

It had been rough at first, their blades and handles slightly different from the ones you were used to carving. When you would throw them they would land wrong, unbalanced or not sharp enough to stick to your target.

Your favorite throwing knife you had crafted had a blade carved from the tooth of a palulukan that you had found in the forest ages ago, as a young girl. When you found it you weren’t sure what to do with it, keeping it safe until you thought about how to use it, and now you were happy you decided to bring it with you to Awa’atlu.

You loved the look and feel of the knife, the way the handle was smooth driftwood Neteyam had brought you from the beach, the sharp edge of the blade that had come from the forest. The palulukan tooth reminded you of home, and the driftwood was a reminder of what was to come living with the Metkayina people.

Not only had you learned to carve throwing knives, but you had taught yourself to use them. You had been practicing on your time off. A wooden beam in the walls of your marui was often your victim, marks etched in it from your many misses and victories. With every throw, every mark, you thought the marui should be more damaged, but it stood strong through your attacks. In an odd way it reminded you of yourself, beaten and battered, but still standing unwavering in the face of danger.

Even though your other new skills came in handy, they held no significance in your heart. Someone may ask, what skill could hold so much significance to you? Your answer would be quick, learning English. Even though you had been so determined to deny any chance Neteyam gave you to learn English back home in the forest, you had taken up his offer now.

So you have been learning English since you arrived in Awa’atlu. Neteyam took the role of your teacher, and he was doing a pretty good job if you had anything to say about it. He was patient with you, and didn’t get frustrated when you couldn’t pronounce a word correctly, or when you asked over and over again, what is the english word for skxawng when Lo’ak was being a moron.

You were supposed to be learning Metkayina sign language as well in preparation for you going into the water when you were ready, but instead of practicing that you spent most of your time on english.

In some ways it was because of the Sully family.

It was Jake’s first language. Sometimes he used words you didn’t understand, phrases that made no sense to you, and you were curious to finally learn what he meant. It was also Neytiri and the kid’s second language, everyone in their family knew it to some extent. Everyone around you spoke it, so why shouldn't you.

In some ways it was because of Quaritch.

You wanted to talk with the man that had brought you so much pain. You didn’t have questions, you wanted to lash out at him, and let him see how badly he was affecting you, and not just you, but your people as well. You knew he wouldn’t care, but you need him to know. You need him to know.

There was one thing in particular that you wanted to say to him, and so you practiced that sentence over and over again, making sure to get the inflection right. You wanted your statement to strike fear into his heart.

Once you had calmed down enough to lift your head from Neteyam’s chest, where it had been laying moments before, you looked around. Jake was questioning Lo’ak about where his sisters were, and suddenly everything was chaos again as Tsireya cried out that they were tied up on the ship. The ship that was slowly sinking into the depths of the sea, the darkness that laid below the water. The ship that was quickly becoming a graveyard as more and more people died.

Kiri and Tuk can not die on there.

Your breathing was unsteady as you thought about it all. Everything that had happened, and you knew you needed to help. You needed to help get them off, and maybe you would run into Quaritch.

Quaritch was the cause of this, and he was your target. You would not rest until he was dead, so you repacked your healing pouch, knives and all, and tied it back around your waist. On wobbly feet you stood, ready to run off and find the man you hated so much. You needed revenge, now. You needed to be the one to take him out.

However once you were on your feet someone stopped you. Jake. He placed his hands on your shoulders, by the serious look he had on his face you had missed something, “They have Tuk and Kiri. We’re going to get them. Stay here with Neteyam and the others.”

You felt yourself deflate, you needed to go help, but you knew Jake was serious, and you didn’t want to mess with him right now as he held the fire of rage in his eyes, so you answered simply, “Okay.” and this time you meant it, you would stay, you weren’t going to run off, not as you through about how Neteyam needed you like he did right now.

Jake and Neytiri took off soon after, headed fast towards the demon ship, and as you sat there with Neteyam you thought about what was about to happen. Jake was going to kill Quaritch. You wouldn’t get the chance, but you supposed as long as he was dead you were happy, whether it was you who killed him or not.

You didn’t know how much time had passed as you sat there, and you were quickly getting riled up more as time went on. You felt yourself slipping the more you thought about Quaritch. You thought about everything he had done, all the pain he had caused, and you felt the wild animal inside you awaken.

As your eyes surveyed the area for any sign of danger you took deep breaths, doing as Neteyam had taught you, and you tried your hardest to keep your eyes in focus, your hearing from going out, your mind from going blank, and you seem to be succeeding.

You seem to be succeeding.

Then you’re not.

You watched with harsh, unforgiving eyes as Spider lugs himself and Quaritch out of the water, both of them dripping and shivering from the breeze that was gently coasting over the ocean. You were worried about Jake as the thoughts of his mission to kill Quaritch flooded through your head, but you thought if Jake couldn’t finish the job, you certainly would. It was your turn now, and you wouldn’t miss your chance.

You focused in on them with cruel eyes, eyes that held danger and uncertainty for them, and you knew if looks could kill you can guarantee they would both be dead right now.

However no matter how much you prayed to Eywa for the man who had caused you so much pain to be dead, he was not.

No matter how much you wanted his son, who you blamed just as much for his wrongdoings, to be dead, he was not.

Neither of them were.

That was about to change.

You said a quick goodbye to Neteyam who was still asleep, praying he would stay stable with a lingering kiss to his forehead. You left him with Tsireya, who you trusted enough, as everyone else had left on missions to save their parents.

You swam as stealthily as possible with your leg, aching as you used it too much, over to the rock where they were standing. You slowly creeped out of the water crouching low like you were going to pounce. You stood behind Quaritch, but decided not to attack yet.

Your mind focused on him. It was as if you were coated in a haze of violence, as your heart hammered in your chest. Thoughts of killing him fogged your mind like a dewy early morning where the fog rolled in off of the ocean.

As you struggled to think about anything other than the brutal death you were about to bestow onto him you remembered the sentence you had practiced so much, “You will die today.” You hissed out, your accent was strong, almost hard to understand. He whipped around as if he didn’t even realize you had been behind him, his eyes meeting you, and he seemed to understand what you had said.

He laughs at you, like your threat is funny, “You’re that feral one, aren’t you?” He questioned you, and you simply hissed back, teeth bared and a violence stronger than anything else stirring in your soul, like a storm about to downpour.

“If you want to kill me so badly, then let’s go!” He taunted you, holding his hands out like an invitation, “Let’s dance.”

Before you could make your move, Spider barged in, stepping between the two of you, but facing you head on, “(Y/n), please don’t do this!” He practically begged you, and you were furious.

You growled at him, violence in your eyes, and he flinched back as you spoke, “Stupid tawtute boy.” You insulted him, voice low and full of rage, “Stay out of this. You will be lucky if I do not kill you too!” You shouted the warning at him.

If you asked Spider he would admit he feared for his life, but he didn’t back down, knowing the Sullys would be furious with him if they found out he hadn’t tried to stop you, “This isn’t about me, it isn’t even about him. I’m warning you, (Y/n), I don’t think you can win this fight.”

You hissed loudly, your ears flat on your head, and sharp canines bared, “Spider, I am warning you, you better be gone by the time I’m done with him, or you will meet the same fate.” You warned him once again, before turning back to Quaritch, drawing one of your throwing blades, “He will pay for his crimes with death. If you are lucky he will have paid for your crimes too.”

Spider seemed to be fed up now, frustrated beyond belief, “Fine… Fine! Go on, fight him then!”

You smirked with that little victory, turning back to Quaritch as Spider stepped aside, “You die, now!”

Quaritch looked just as smug, he was confident he was going to win, and he let you know that with vaguely threatening words, “You’re really gonna fight me, huh? With your leg all busted up like that?” He snickered, smirking as he taunted you, “Did my guys do that to you?”

You just hissed as a reply, crouching down in a fighting pose, remembering everything your mother palulukan had taught you. She had taught you to stay strong, to keep your stamina up, to pounce, and take down, and kill.

However she hadn’t taught you to play dirty.

You had learned that somewhere else, and playing dirty was exactly what you decided to do. He had no weapons, an immense advantage for you, and a downfall for him. If you were being fair, making sure the battleground was even, you would have fought fist to fist, but it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair, and you didn’t care.

You draw your first weapon, pulling out a knife from your healing pouch. Feeling the handle you immediately knew which one it was, the palulukan tooth knife. In an odd way it filled you with rage. It was your only throwing knife made of supplies from the forest, every other one made with typical Metkayina materials.

It reminded you of home, and what you had to leave behind. All because of him.

When you drew it from your pouch and he didn’t make a move you knew you had the upper hand. He was hesitant to attack you while you were wielding a weapon, but what he didn’t know was that your knife wasn’t for slashing or cutting, it was to be thrown, and that’s exactly what you did.

He wasn’t quick enough to figure out what was going on, and before he could dodge the blade was dug into his shoulder. He hissed out in pain, looking at his shoulder and assessing the damage. You were sure it didn’t do too much, maybe his arm would be out of the fight, but that wasn’t much in the whole scheme of things.

He was quick in his movements as he pulled it out of his shoulder, not flinching as if he was prepared for it, and instead of throwing it back at you he tossed it to the side, not giving you a chance to use it again.

You threw the next, him dodging it this time, and you decided this wasn’t going to work. He was too aware now, but maybe once he got tired, slower, you could try again. Instead you crouched down, pouncing at him and throwing a punch.

Thank Eywa, it landed.

He seemed frustrated as you tried to back away, but he didn’t let you escape, grabbing your braid, dragging you back and placing his arms behind your neck while twisting your arms behind your back. You struggled in his hold for a second, and once your mind cleared a bit you came up with a plan.

You threw your head back, nailing him straight in the nose and he was quick to let you go. He staggered back, a hand wiping the blood that trickled from his nose as you sprinted towards him again. This time he threw a punch in your direction, hitting your shoulder and you hissed.

He tried to hit you once again and you caught his fist, twisting it and using his momentum to throw him to the ground on his back where you stood over him, looming like an angel, like you were the last thing he was about to see.

As you sank down, knees on either side of his torso where you had planned to stab him with the same serrated knife that had taken the life of another one of the recoms just weeks earlier in the forest, he grabbed your wrists together, both hands held firmly onto the handle. He tried to throw you off, but it just ended up with you dropping your knife.

You saw the palulukan tooth knife beside his head out of the corner of your eye, and you reached for it quickly, but he took his chance and flipped you over pinning you to the ground this time, but by his error your hands were free, and you managed to grab the knife.

Horror filled his eyes as he realized you had the weapon, and before he could move away it was sunk into his chest, right above his heart, but luckily it hadn’t pierced the vital organ. He tried rolling off of you, tried to escape, but you were quicker than him.

You dug your knife into his neck, slitting it open, and as blood spewed onto you from his body above you, you felt victorious.

You had won!

He was dead…

It took a few seconds for him to be completely gone, and when he was, his body slumped down onto you. You shoved him off of you roughly and he fell to the ground, face down, and you were grateful you never had to see his face ever again.

You stood up, looking down at him, and for good measure, anger and violence still flowing through your veins, you stomped on the back of his head, making sure his face was smashed beyond recognition if he somehow, somehow, survived your finishing blow.

When you were satisfied, done with the fight, you crashed to the ground, exhausted. You wanted to collapse to the ground in a heap of tears, but instead you cleaned yourself up, tending to the small cuts you had gotten, somehow avoiding any serious damage to yourself, and you had never felt so young since you had been a child.

You felt so small as you sat hunched over, cleaning your wounds in the seawater around you. The salt left a burning sensation that somehow calmed you. It reminded you of being a child, being littered in cuts from your days in the forest before you got back home and your mother palulukan would lick your wounds clean. It reminded you of your den back in the forest. It reminded you of home.

You breathed harshly, still angry, and as Spider stood near you with his mouth agape you addressed him harshly, “Why are you still here, traitor? Why haven’t you run away?” He still looked in shock, apparently he was truly convinced you couldn't kill Quaritch, and now you had. You asked him, “Am I going to be forced to kill you too?” That snapped him out of his shocked state.

He began to talk, stuttering over his words, not actually getting anything out, and you hoped for the boy that Eywa be on his side, as he tried to convince you not to murder once again.

All he could say was, “Please. Please don’t…”

You felt bad for him in a way, although you had no reason to, but decided to let him live. However he had to be held accountable for dragging Quaritch from his grave in the sea. You decided to let him live thinking whatever punishment Jake would have for him would be worse than death, “I’ll spare you, but I am telling Jake. Good luck with that.” You squinted at him harshly, before you stepped back into the sea, ready to swim back to Neteyam and his family, your family.

When you got back Spider was close behind you, and everyone could feel the tension. Everyone knew something had happened, but you decided to allow peace for now, not addressing what had happened and staying quiet.

Instead you hustled back over to Neteyam who was conscious again, and sitting up with help from his mother. You took her place and held him tightly, “I love you. I love you so much.” You whispered to him, just for him.

“I love you too, yawne.” He muttered back, clearly exhausted.

“Let’s get you home…” You trailed off, carefully admitting that you were calling Awa’atlu your home, but only because he was with you, “Let’s go home.”

He nodded in agreement, happy that you were content. Once everyone else was ready to leave everyone paired up with a creature to take them back. Neytiri called her ikran, Jake on a tsurak, and the kids on ilus.

You called out to your ikran as well, and once she landed you carefully sat Neteyam up on her back with you sitting behind him holding him close. He had to be out of the water so his wound wouldn't get infected and the blood clotting paste wouldn’t wash off. You were grateful he was able to ride with you, Neytiri taking Tuk with her.

You were grateful he was still here with you.

Once you arrived back in Awa’atlu you rushed Neteyam to the Tsahík’s marui, and as Ronal heard the panic in your voice she rushed out to meet you. She was just as shocked as you were at first, but she was even more so shocked he was still alive. She took note to compliment you later, sure you were the one who had saved his life.

Just as you were required to rest, she now put Neteyam on bed rest as well, and as you had once again pulled your stitches out during your fight with Quaritch you were required to stay with him. You had complained you were stuck inside for longer, but you were secretly excited to spend all day relaxing with Neteyam.

You sighed, your hand resting on his knee gently, rubbing circles on it more so to calm yourself than him, “Ronal says your leg may never work the same, says you’ll have a limp, but I have faith in you… I know you will recover.” You admitted. You know he had heard that from Ronal, but you wanted to reassure him he would be okay. You were sure of that.

He cringed at your words, he knew Ronal was most likely right, but he gave into you, “I know tiyawn.” He said to amuse you, he didn’t want you to know he was so pessimistic about this. He didn’t want you to know he didn’t believe you.

You frowned, and he wanted to do anything to take it off of your face, “I know you don’t believe me, but you are so resilient. You will be back to normal in no time. You are so, so strong…” You complimented him, kissing his cheek, “and you have the best healer taking care of you.” You winked at him, slyly complimenting yourself, and making him laugh.

As you sit next to him, checking his wounds, changing the dressings, caring for him as you would yourself, you realize why you are so happy, even after your world has completely changed. As long as he is okay, as long as he is next to you, as long as you have his love, you are home.

Word Bank:

Palulukan (Thanator)

Awa’atlu (Metkayina village)

Metkayina (Ocean Na’vi)

Marui (Metkayina homes)

Skxawng (Idiot, moron)

Eywa (Na’vi goddess)

Tawtute (Sky people, humans)

Yawne (Beloved)

Ikran (Mountain Banshee)

Tsurak (Skimwing)

Ilu (Metkayina animal transportation)

Tsahík (Spiritual leader)

Tiyawn (Love)

@xstarsmvxz @netedoongie @c-h-i-l @rose-brulante @purple-imaginess @n7cje @celi-xxmoon @innercreationflower @btsiguess-kpop @hana-yuri

[reidsc0nverse]

A Rose by Any Other Name (Chapter Two)

Summary: Reader accompanies Emily to a club during a case where Spencer shows her one of his many talents with the help of the one and only Derek Morgan.

Warnings: Language (not much at all)

AN: This is based on episode 4x9 (obviously) and basically goes along with the story. Also let's pretend Courtney (the bartender) wasn't the object of Spencer's attention for his magic trick. K thanks.

Series Masterlist

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The other day when I walked through the doors of the BAU I was not expecting to be thrown into my job, but of course, it happened. 

I was in the technical analyst Penelope Garcia's office when all of a sudden JJ (as she now told me I can call her) went into labor. How wonderful.

I mean don't get me wrong I'm so happy for her, but I still had a good week of training that I could've used.

That was two weeks ago, so now I'm fully in my spot as Communications Liaison, and not to brag or anything.. I'm doing pretty well. 

Right now we've been working a case in Atlanta where a guy of the "Alpha Male" type would kill women that he would pick up from the local bars. The team came to the conclusion that he was getting his tips from a pick up artist that seems to be teaching his skills to other men. 

They call him "Viper" and, according to Emily, he's a real treat.

"He's a grade A asshole." she huffs walking into the room of the precinct I'm in. 

"That bad?" I ask and she slumps into the chair next to mine.

"He makes me wanna gauge my eyes out." She says, laughing, but clearly annoyed. So far while I've been on the team she and I have gotten pretty close and she's honestly one of my favorite people. 

"I'm so glad I wasn't there." I say, shaking my head. I've dealt with one too many narcissists on a personal level so if I had to listen to a guy go on for ages about how to play hard to get with a girl or blatantly insult them to get them attracted to him I'd probably lose my mind.

"Time to give the profile" Derek says as he sticks his head in the room. Emily sighs and walks out with me to the rest of the team. 

They go on giving out details to the local PD and I drone out until Spencer talks to me, or at me kind of. "I like those earrings, yeah my grandma has a lot of fake jewelry also." 

PARDON?

He smiles and waves it off as not serious, which I understood he was only exemplifying what our unsub does but it didn't diminish the fact that it was funny as hell. 

After the team finishes I get up and Spencer walks towards me, "Um, sorry about that. I just needed to show them what the unsub learned from Viper."

I laugh and wave him off, "No no don't apologize it's fine, it gave me a good laugh so I'm really not hurt by it."

He smiles and Hotch calls us over to where the rest of the team stands. 

They explain that we need to see about more of what the unsub may have learned back at the group discussions and they hint that Emily is gonna need to go back and talk to Viper.

"Oh. Oh god, this is really gonna suck." 

A little later, Emily comes to me after the team splits up with a cheeky look on her face and her hands behind her back.

"Y/NNNNN...." she drags.

"Oh god what do you want." I say playfully, already knowing what she's gonna say.

"You know, Derek is bringing Spencer as a wingman, so maybe you coulddd..."

"Fine fine, but if we're hitting the club I don't think my work attire is gonna cut it." I say, looking down at the blouse and black pair of pants I'm wearing. 

She shakes her head, "Ah, no worries, I have something you might fit in." She pulls out two dresses from behind her back and hands one to me.

"So you just happen to have party wear in your go bag?" I ask, looking at the black tight fit dress now in my hands.

"We go to some interesting places." She smirks and smacks my shoulder lightly, continuing, "Come on, I'll help you get ready." 

She takes my hand and we go to the PD locker room, getting changed and she gets her makeup out.

"I thought you hated this guy, now you're getting all dolled up." I tease her, she laughs and starts applying her eye makeup. 

"I take every opportunity I can get to look hot as shit with a job like this. Plus, we're still going to the club." She jokes back and after a couple minutes we're done getting ready and meet up with Derek and Spencer at the car.

"Heyy, looking good ladies." Derek says with a cocky smile and Spencer waves at me awkwardly. 

"How flattering." Emily says and then huffs, turning to me, "You better help me through dealing with this worm." 

"Of course" I say, hand on my heart and all.

Once we get to the club we decide to split up, Derek and Spencer asking girls in the club if they've seen anyone similar to our unsub, and Emily going up ahead of me while we face this nightmare of a man.

She tells me to stay back until the right time and I watch her play her game of flirting while continuing to intrigue the man. She looks back at me when he gets a little too confident and a little too close so I walk towards them, Viper's eyes following me carefully.

The conversation goes as usual, some mindless snarky remarks tossed around as he starts discussing eye contact, more specifically pupil dilation. 

"Okay fifteen seconds." Emily says in response to the eye contact that Viper has been making with me, and trying to prove a point.

"What do you see?" I ask.

"Nope, no dilation."

Viper comes quick with his response, "Ah, because you have someone else on the mind." 

Do I? Maybe. I don't know. No.

Emily eyes me teasingly and the conversation between us and Viper goes stale until he gives us just what we want for the case. He gives us that our unsub is going to go for his "queen bee," the focus on all his killing. 

Emily calls Hotch with our findings and I meet up with Derek and Spencer as they talk, or..bicker maybe.

"Come here pretty girl," Derek says to me, I comply, confused but still.

"Pretend she's someone you're showing the unsub to, use that magic." Derek says to Spencer, putting me in front of him, but he explains to me that apparently Spencer isn't having any luck giving the profile out to the girls at the club so now he's doing..magic?

I don't know how he's not having luck, he's an attractive guy. I would feel like girls would go crazy trying to talk to him but I guess not.

Spencer looks at me like he really doesn't wanna do this, but he goes with it anyway. "Don't worry I'll play along" I tell him and he seems comforted in that.

He begins by acting as though we've never met and asks me if I've seen the man in the drawing before, I nod no and he pulls out a pen.

"We have reason to believe he has a scar about right..here." He says, running the pen through the paper and moving it around, leaving no rips in the paper.

"Woah, woah. What? How did you do that?" I ask, inspecting the paper. 

He shrugs and smirks, "A magician never reveals his secrets." 

Derek laughs and pats his back, "That's what I'm talking about, pretty boy!" 

After the case ends smoothly we arrive at the BAU once again and settle everything down. I go to JJ's office which is mine temporarily and get some paperwork out of the way with Emily.

"So, don't mean to remind you of Viper, but, is there someone on your mind?" She asks teasingly.

"Oh god." I groan and put my face in my hands.

She snickers and responds, "Oh so there is!"

"Maybe." I say, dragging the word out. "But I don't know, he doesn't really know me that well."

She nods, I feel like she sees right through me.

"Seems like you and Spencer kind of had a good time earlier."

I choke on my own spit, "Um what?" I say, coughing. Covering my mouth as well as the slight pink coming onto my face.

She smiles and nods her head as a tall figure walks in the doorway. "Speak of the devil." She says and walks out, I look up and see Spencer, so now she's leaving me and him alone.

His eyebrows furrow, and I wave it off.

"Hello there, Houdini."  I say smiling up at him, he laughs and leans against the doorway.

"You know it's an easy trick, nothing up to Houdini's standard." 

I shrug. "Eh, still impressive." 

Things are quiet for a moment and there's a hint of tension in the air until he clears his throat and starts.

"You looked really nice today, by the way. Just thought I'd say." His face goes red and I smirk.

"You came all this well to compliment me?" I tease. He laughs sheepishly and shakes his head. 

"No, no. I was um, I was coming to ask you if maybe you wanted to grab a coffee or something. Maybe I could show you how I really do that trick?"

He was nervous, obviously. But that didn't help the grin on my face growing and trying to hold back the blush that's definitely growing on my face.

"I thought magicians couldn't tell anyone how they do their tricks." I reply, more calmly than I thought I would've, I mean I'm just trying to play it cool.

"I can make an exception. I'll let you know, I have your number right?"

I nod and he smiles again and sticks up an awkward thumbs up, "Cool. Well, I'll see you later." 

"Bye, Spencer" I say playfully and as we walks out to the hallway I peek out and see Derek standing by the doors that leave the office with a cheeky look. I can see the back of Spencer's head nod and Derek raise his arms, saying something but they're too far to hear. 

Guessing Derek convinced him to go for it. 

Good thing.

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I'm gonna be real and say I kinda hate this chapter but I promise it gets good. ALSO TYSM ON THE SUPPORT FOR THE LAST PART IM SO GRATEFUL UGH.

taglist: @darkenwolfie @justlivinginadaydream @daddy-dotcom @itsametaphorbriansblog @rosesandlavendertea @4karaa

[talkfastromance4]

That's My Girl--Jake Seresin (An Arrangement Series)

a/n: I realize I never stated what the name of the flower shop is called so that will be told here!

An Arrangement Masterlist

Follow here for all updates as I do not have a taglist

word count: 3k

warnings: none

Feedback, asks, comments/reblogs mean the world to me!

Enjoy!

After Reynolds picked you up from work one Friday night, Jake called you and asked if you’d like to meet him at The Hard Deck. Excited to see more of him in his friend group you said yes and Reynolds had no problem driving you there after you changed out of your work clothes at home. 

Reynolds chatted with Rhea while you raced upstairs to change and when you looked at yourself in the mirror, you really wanted to make yourself look nice. You still had leaves in your hair from an arrangement you were working on. After cleaning out the leftover leaves, you used that expensive dry shampoo Jake supplied you, washed your face and did your makeup the way Inez showed you.

You found the perfect outfit; a babydoll type black top, high-waisted light washed jeans and a black belt. Then you found a cute pair of wedges with a black floral design that wrapped around your foot and your outfit was set. Until you saw the leaf earrings winking at you on one of your dressers where your perfume is and you placed them in your ears. 

“Perfect,” you smile at yourself and admire the earrings for a moment longer before descending the stairs. 

“All set?” Reynolds asks.

“Yup. Do you think Jake would mind if I invited Serena and Dom?”

“Not at all. Do we need to pick them up?” He sounds almost hopeful.

“No, they live together so they’ll come together. But,” you touch his forearm, “I’m sure Jake will bring me home so you can drink with us if you’d like. Dom loves tequila sunrises.”

He smiles at that nugget of information and then you’re both out the door. On the way there, Serena texted they’ll meet you in a little over an hour and as you walked up the sandy walkway and through the double doors, you became nervous. There’s a lot of Navy in this bar and you stood on your tiptoes to look for your Navy guy. 

“y/n!” Penny calls from the bar.

Thankful to see a familiar face, you weave through some bodies and give her a hug over the counter. 

“Looks like you’re looking for someone,” she says. 

“I am. Have you seen Jake around?” your eyes scan around her as if he’ll magically appear just by you saying his name. 

“Him and the squad are back the billiards and darts,” Penny nods to her right. “Can I get you anything? I’ll make sure to put it on Hangman’s tab.”

You laugh nervously because you know he wouldn’t want you to pay for your drinks at all.

“Sure. I’ll just have a hard seltzer right now, with a straw please.”

She pops open the can and sticks a straw in it for you and you make your way towards the game area. Jake and Coyote are at the dartboard and Coyote has his hand over Jake’s eyes while Jake tosses his darts. He makes three bullseyes in a row.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” you ask and he whips his head around so fast while Coyote collects the darts. You feel flattered when his eyes glitter over you, a bright smile on his face. 

“Well, don’t you look mighty pretty,” he approaches you and places his hands on your waist. His eyes move to the drink in your hand. “You put that on my tab, right?”

“Yes, Penny knew to,” you nod. “But seriously, are you bad at anything?”

“We’re still trying to figure that one out,” Rooster says behind you. “We wanna find what makes him a sore loser.”

“Never will Rooster, I’m too damn good.”

You can see in his eyes that this is Hangman talking, he’s got a certain err of confidence that’s slightly borderline on cocky.

“Not very humble, are you?” you tease and that makes Rooster snort into his beer. 

When Jake looks at you, that mirth is replaced by the tender softness you’re used to and you know this is Jake. The real him. 

“Sorry, Sugar. The Navy needs the best and drills it into us, hard not to brag. Especially in front of you,” he pokes your nose.

“Can I play?” you point to the dartboard behind him. 

“Need me to show you how?” Jake flirts.

“You toss a dart at a bard, pretty simple,” you shrug. You move out of his arms to take the darts from Coyote. 

“Please beat him, he needs to be knocked down a peg or two,” Coyote encourages.

“There is a certain finesse to it, Sugar,” Jake picks up three other darts and he smirks at you. “I’d be happy to show you.”

“I’ll ask for help if I need it,” you pat his chest and move to the scuffed green tape on the floor signifying where to stand. “Ladies first?”

Coyote moves out of the way and Jake does a slight bow, his right arm extended towards the dart board as if presenting it to you.

“But of course.”

You take turns trailing each other in points but in the end, you get a bullseye and it wins you the game. Rooster and Coyote cheer behind you then run off to find the others. 

“Good job, Sugar,” Jake congratulates as you sip on your drink through your straw. 

“Thank you,” you smile sweetly.

“Did you really beat him?” Phoenix asks impressed. 

“Yeah.” You say and Jake comes up behind you, his fingers tickling your sides making you laugh. “I did.”

Phoenix glances between you two then she cocks her head to the side. 

“You didn’t let her win, did  you?”

“Oh no,” Rooster groans, “You did, didn’t you?”

When Jake doesn’t respond you turn your head to look up at him. He’s drinking his beer slowly and avoiding your eyes.

“Did you let me win?” you ask softly. He still avoids your gaze, shifting uncomfortably against you and you pout. “I want a rematch.”

“Sugar–”

You spin out of his arms and place a hand on your hip. 

“I mean it, don’t hold back.”

“All right,” he relented, “we’ll do a rematch.”

He lets you go first and you do pretty well but then his three bullseyes in a row easily overpowers you. You turn grumpy and Jake grabs your hand. 

“You told me not to hold back.”

“I know, I’m still grumpy because you let me win. Let’s go again.”

You move away from him again, he sighs as you gather the darts and take your position. You suck down the rest of your drink. You end up getting a few bullseyes yourself which impresses Jake. When it’s his turn you watch his stance and the clear focus in his eyes as he aims. 

It’s down to the final points and you plant your feet, square your shoulders and take a deep breath. You relax your arm and toss them quickly in a row, each one landing smack dab in the center. There’s silence behind you and when you turn around they’re all staring at you but Jake is smirking. 

“What just happened?” Rooster asks dumbfounded. 

“She hustled me, that’s what,” Jake grins. He saunters to you, pulls you against him by your hips and kisses you. You smile into his kiss wrapping your own arms around his shoulders and he lifts you off the ground. “Were you on a team or something?”

“No,” you murmur on his lips. “I just don’t think and hope for the best. I’m lucky.”

“Very lucky.”

You continue to kiss until you feel your phone and wrist vibrate from a text. Breaking the kiss, you glance at your watch reading a text from Serena that she and Dom have arrived. 

“Serena and Dom are here,” you tell him and he sets you back down on your feet. “I’ll be right back.” You lean up and give him a quick kiss.

“Drinks are on me, Sugar,” he calls after you.

You find Serena at the bar looking great as she always does and give her a hug.

“Where’s Dom?”

“He got distracted by Reynolds outside,” Serena smirks. 

The two of you order your drinks then she links her pinky with yours and  you lead her towards the back where Jake and his friends are. They’ve gone back to their pool game and you notice the flirtatious look of interest between Serena and Rooster. Jake’s eyes were on you and he sent a wink your way before breaking the balls. 

“I beat Jake at darts, do you want to play?” you ask Serena.

“Sure. Who’s the guy in the Hawaiian shirt?”

“That’s Rooster,” you line up for your shot, squinting one eye shut. 

“He’s hot.”

“I’ll introduce you when they’re done with pool. Don’t want to interrupt their game,” you say and throw a dart. You line up for the next shot.

“Do you think his little rooster lives up to his name?” 

“Serena!” you exclaim and you throw your dart but it smacks a guy in the back of the head a little ways away. “Oh no!”

“Ow! What the–”

You rush over to him already apologizing profusely as he rubs his head and turns around. He smiles at you then picks up the dart.

“Are you okay? I wasn’t aiming for you, I swear!” you fluster out, your voice just shy of panicking. Because of course you would be the one to hit someone with a dart.

“I would hope not, unless we’re in the hunger games or something,” he smiles. “Good thing these aren’t real darts, right?”

“Yeah, I would have felt even worse. This is why I’ll never go axe throwing.”

“You hit people in the head a lot?”

“No, I’d be worried it would fly back and decapitate me,” you shake your head and take the dart back. “I’m sorry again.”

“No blood no foul,” he shrugs then points a finger at you that’s not holding onto his beer bottle, “don’t you work at that flower shop? Rose Window? I’m John B Stokes…my grandpa Roger worked with your Grandpa John?”

The name rings a faint little bell and you’re staring at him trying to place his face.

“We used to play in the circle of their subdivision in the summer?”

“Oh yeah!” you smack your palm against your forehead at finally recognizing him. “We’d sneak freeze pops and draw treasure maps on the driveway. Wow, it’s been a long time, huh?”

“It has. My mom told me you took over the shop after he died, I was sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you, it was very rough the first few years.”

“And how’s Betty?”

“She’s…getting by,” you nod. You don’t want to go into details about her health right now. “I’ll tell her I ran into you. What have you been up to?”

“I own a surf shop along the beach with my buddy, JJ.”

“You always did like to surf, even in my grandparent’s pool.”

“Remember when we climbed that tree….”

“Woah, who’s that over by y/n?” Bradley asks while Jake is lining up for his shot.

“Who?”

“The guy and her hot friend.”

“Serena and Dom, I told ya’ll they were coming,” Jake responds and sinks the red solid in the corner pocket. 

“And you said Dom was gay?”

“Yes,” Jake responds patiently as he lines up again.

“Well, the way this dude’s looking at her says otherwise.”

That catches Jake’s attention and he looks over in your direction from his angle along the pool table. He sees Serena next to you and a guy that is definitely not Dom talking to you. He’s got a hat on backwards and is dressed like a surfer, his tanned face clearly signifies that.

You’re both smiling and laughing with Serena nodding along and piping in now and again. Jake stands up immediately to get a better look. The guy isn’t standing too close to you but he has conflicting feelings because the two of you are still figuring things out together. He trusts you, he really does, but he’s seen how men look at you when you’re out in public. 

Hell, he saw how they all looked at you when you walked into the bar now. And he knows how charming you are–you don’t realize when you are being charming and it draws them in. Like flies to honey and you’re the sweetest bit o’honey there is. You probably don’t even realize the guy is flirting with you, you’re just that nice.

What really stirs the green monster of jealousy inside him is the way the guy is looking at you because it’s the way Jake looks at you. And that just won’t do.

He has four shots left before he wins and he makes a decision to go intervene if you’re still being bothered. He sinks them in record time, winning the game. He picks up his beer bottle and takes a swig.

“We should have called you Hammerhead,” Bradley grumbles, rolling his cue stick on the table. Jake scowls at him. “You know, cause it’s a shark and pool sharks is when–”

“Yeah, I get it Bradshaw,” Jake snaps. 

“Cool, you two done?” Bob asks reaching for Jake’s cue stick.

“Have at it, Bobby,” Jake hands it off a little too roughly. He wants to intervene but he can’t really read the situation properly. 

“What’s got him upset now?” Bob scowls rubbing at his chest. “I thought y/n being around didn’t make you such a dick.”

“Some dude’s talking to his Sugar Pie,” Phoenix appears next to Rooster.

“Uh oh,” Bob sighs, racking the balls back up. 

Serena glances at Jake and gives him a look, her eyebrows raised and glances to the guy you’re talking to.

That’s his cue.

“Excuse me,” Jake makes his way towards you.

When he’s close enough, he rests his hand on your hip, pressing into you.

“Hi Serena,” he greets then curves his head so he can see your face. “He Sugar.”

A testing glance to the guy who is also sizing him up. 

“Jake! This is John B, we grew up and played together. Our grandparents were neighbors,” you explain excitedly.

“Really? That’s nice,” he cocks his head back in a normal position and makes a show of lifting his hand on your hip to John B. “I’m Jake.”

John B takes his hand and it’s a firm grip, both of them squeezing as hard as they can. Jake’s impressed, but only a little. 

“I heard,” John B nods to his service khakis. “Air Force?”

“Naval aviator,” Jake stiffens.

“Damn, that’s badass, man,” John B says. 

“What do you do?”

“I own a surf shop just down the beach. I rent out paddle boats if you’d like to try them sometime,” John B is speaking to you. 

“Those aren’t really safe,” Jake shakes his head.

“I’ve always wanted to try those! Serena, let’s do it sometime,” you say.

“Sugar, I don’t think–”

“And you and Rooster can come, it’ll be a fun double date,” you’re literally bouncing in excitement. Your eyes are wide as you look up at him.

‘Double date’ puffs Jake’s chest up a little, he gives a subtle nod to John B.

“Sure, anything you want Sugar.”

“Come by anytime,” John B says unfazed. “I gotta get back with my friends but it was good to see you again, y/n. And nice meeting you, Serena.”

“You too,” Serena smiles.

“Jake,” John B nods, then he touches your shoulder before heading back to his corner. 

“Did you win at pool?” you ask just as Jake starts leading you back to the others. 

“Of course I did. I think we should introduce Serena and Rooster, don’t you think?”

“Ugh, please! I’m foaming at the mouth,” Serena follows and downs the rest of her drink. 

Once you’re all back with the squad, Bradley stands up from his stool when he sees Serena approaching.

“Serena, this is Roos–”

“Bradley,” he interrupts, clearing his throat. “You can call me Bradley.”

“What if I want to call you Rooster?” Serena smiles.

“That works, call me whatever you want, honey,” he flirts. “Can I get you another one?”

“Please,” Serena grins and leads the way to the bar. Bradley places his hand on the small of her back and they disappear in the crowd. 

“Well, guess we’re chopped liver,” you giggle and hop up onto the stool next to Phoenix. 

“What’s the story with you and John B?” Jake asks, Phoenix winces but he ignores her. 

“What story?” you straighten his collar. He removes your hand so he can lace your fingers together.

“Did you two have a summer romance at one point or something?”

“No? Why would you think that?”

“He was flirting with you, sweetheart.”

“No, he wasn’t,” you shake your head. But when you glance over Jake’s shoulder  you lock eyes with John B and you frown. “Was he?”

“With his eyes, yes, he was,” Jake nods.

“His eyes?” Phoenix snorts.

“Do you mind? We’re having a conversation here, Phoenix,” he snips.

“Hey, you two came by me but I’ll leave. Don’t let your jealousy take over, it’s not a good look, Bagman,” she pats his shoulder as she sidles past him. 

“Wait a minute, you’re jealous that I was talking with him?” you ask and he sighs, his eyes downcast. “Jake?” You place a finger under his chin, lifting it gently.

“Maybe a little. He was looking at you the way I do, I didn’t like it,” he admits. Never in a million years would he think he’d admit to being jealous but you’re altering his code. 

“You wanna know something?” you remove your hand from his and slip your arms around his neck and pull him closer so he’s between your legs. 

“What?”

“I don’t look at anyone else the way I look at you,” you whisper. “Do you know how many women stare at you when we’re together?”

“No, I don’t see anyone but you, darlin’,” he grins.

He’s surprised when you initiate the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair.

[dlst0rtion]

july 6th, 2012 (chapter one)

pairing: nekoma x male reader, yachi hitoka x male reader, and kuroo tetsurō x male reader

masterlist

series masterlist

a/n: not me coming back after 3 years

not many people know much about [name] on a personal level at school.

he didn't seem to hang out with anyone during school hours, not like many people would try.

[name] has a syndrome called "the resting bitch face" that intimidated a lot of people. not only that but he is also at the top of his class which fuels the fire of him being untouchable.

many girls in nekoma had a crush on the second-year boy. although he was aloof, he does have a handsome face and an aura that oozes out confidence but not in an arrogant way. he was just so... attractive.

[name] sat boredly in his math class as the teacher went on about logarithmic. he span his pen around his fingers as he turned towards the large windows.

it was grey outside and he sees dark clouds surrounding the sky.

"fuck," [name] cursed inside his head as he continued to glare out the window. he was in a rush getting out of the house today and didn't have time to check the weather forecast. he definitely didn't bring an umbrella to school.

[name] just hopes his little sister had time to pack one.

normally the two [last name] siblings would go to school together but [name] had to go out early to run some errands before school started.

the boy was so zoned out he didn't even hear the school bell ring until he heard his teacher say, "Class dismissed".

many of his classmates already left the classroom before he finally got up to collect his belongings.

it was the end of the day and students were getting ready for their clubs or staying after school to study. [name] didn't bother joining a club since he had other responsibilities to attend to.

when he exited his classroom many female students were loitering around wanting to get a glimpse of the handsome boy. some pretended to go through their lockers while some were in groups of circles, gossiping to their girl friends.

[name] paid them no mind however as he walked towards the front doors of the school, eager to get out and pick up his little sister before it starts to pour.

as he changed into his outside shoes and turned around, he accidentally bumped into a girl whose stuff was now all over the floor.

"[last name]-senpai! i'm so sorry!" the girl stuttered frantically as she bent down to try and collect her papers as quickly as possible.

"don't bother," came his short reply as the girl froze up, scared and embarrassed. "it was my fault."

[name] crouched down and picked up the remaining papers swiftly. he couldn't help but look at the contents of the papers.

croissant recipe. how to make a red velvet cake. how to pipe flowers on cupcakes.

ah... this girl is from the baking club.

"thank you, [name]-senpai!" the girl blushed as she took the papers from his hands.

"don't mention it," [name] remarked and started walking towards the exit.

"wait-!" she gasped, wanting to say more to the male but he was already outside the door.

he walked a few blocks before turning the corner to his bus station but to his demise, he saw his bus leaving as soon as he turned the corner. not only that but it started to rain... heavily.

"what a shitty day," [name] grumbled as he stood at his bus station, waiting for the next bus to arrive in the cold rain.

after a couple of minutes, he decided to sit down on the floor, tired from standing still for 15 minutes. he didn't care anymore, he was already soaking wet from head to toe so it was not like sitting on the wet floor would make a difference.

[name] zoned out again as he continued to wait. he didn't realize the rain stop attacking his body until he looked up and saw a male wearing the same uniform as him, with his bed head sticking out from all directions.

"you're [last name] [name]," the rooster head said as he held out his umbrella for the both of them.

"yeah? and what's it to you?" came his reply as he continued to sit on the ground.

"tsk tsk tsk no need to be hostile, [last name]," the other boy chided as he wore a smile on his face despite [name]'s rude reply.

"and who are you?"

"kuroo tetsurō."

"the volleyball captain?"

"oh? so you have heard of me."

"all bad things."

"nobody likes a liar, [last name]."

[name] just rolled his eyes and ignored the boy.

"i've heard a lot about you too," kuroo said eyeing the boy.

"what do you want?"

"just to talk. i know you don't hang around a lot of people. kenma told me, he's in your class."

"so what? I'm a pity case? i don't need friends."

"everybody needs friends, [last name]. and it's not a pity case, I actually find you quite intriguing."

"and? why is that?"

"you're so popular yet nobody knows who you really are. you haven't joined any clubs yet and you're at the top of your year."

"are you stalking me?"

"nope. word travels fast in nekoma."

"what do you want?" [name] finds himself asking this question again.

"you should join the volleyball team."

"not a chance," kuroo frowned a little at his response.

"why not?"

"are you kidding me? it's July. it would be too late to join any sort of club."

"it's never too late."

"I don't know a single thing about volleyball."

"so? we'll teach you. you're pretty smart, you'll catch on quick."

"no."

"why not?"

God, [name] hated why notters.

"why do you want me to join so bad?"

"kenma is observant. you guys are in the same year and pe class. he tells me you're smart and quick with your strategies. finding out people's weakness in a matter of seconds and working around it."

"is that all you want me for? didn't you say your friend is observant? I think you guys are fine without me."

"I know who you really are. who you were."

"what the hell is that suppose to mean?" [name] snapped, standing up.

"you went to ushimi middle school and played as their wing spiker. you were a volleyball player."

"so you are a stalker."

"no, I'm just really good friends with that airhead wing spiker that played during your second year."

[name] only knew one airhead wing spiker during his middle school days, bokuto kōtarō.

"I don't play anymore."

"why n-"

"if you say why not one more time I'm going to punch you in the face."

kuroo bit back a smirk, knowing he irked the male.

"consider my invitation," kuroo said as [name]'s bus finally arrived.

he didn't say a word to kuroo and got on his bus, not sparing the volleyball captain a glance.

"you're late," [name]'s younger sister, [last name] kazuha, pointed out as she saw her older brother approaching her elementary school.

"yeah I know, I'm sorry," the older one out of the two replied as he took his sister's froggy umbrella and held it for the both of them, his other hand holding onto his sister's.

"what happened?" kazuha looked up at him with her adorably big [eye colour] eyes.

"hmm... don't worry about it. just tell me about your day while we walk home," he offered a small smile to kazuha as she brightened up and told her older brother all the exciting things she learned.

"go upstairs and do your homework but don't be too loud okay? mommy's resting," [name] whispered and put his finger in front of his mouth in a hush symbol.

"okay! I will be quiet for mommy," she whispered and copied his hush motion as well.

kazuha quietly ran up the stairs while [name] dropped his bag on the floor with a loud sigh and loosened his school tie.

[name] went up to his room as well and took a shower, changing into some nice warm and dry clothes.

he went over to his mother's room where she was still soundly asleep. he walked over to her window and pulled the curtains to let light through. it wasn't much light but enough to make the once pitch-black room have some sight.

he heard a groan and turned toward his mother.

"oh, sweetie. you're back from school?" the woman smiled at her child weakly.

"yeah, it's raining cats and dogs out there," he commented.

"sounds like a good day to stay in bed."

[name] didn't mention how she always stayed in bed for the past few years.

he walked towards her and sat on the edge of her bed, grabbing something from the nightstand.

"mother, I'm going to have to take a look at your arm."

"no," came her cheeky reply.

"mother," [name] said sternly as he prepared the thing in his hands.

"fine..." she muttered and gave her son her arm.

it was silent when [name] gave his mother her medicine.

she sometimes felt guilty about how [name] had to take care of her and little kazuha when he should be going out and hanging out with friends at his age.

"how was your day, [name]?"

"same old routine. I got drenched by the rain though."

"what did I tell you about being prepared for the weather, [name]?" she scolded her son lightly.

"sorry I was in a rush."

I was getting groceries before school.

"you can get sick, [name]!"

not as sick as you, he said in his head.

"it's okay, mother. a guy... offered me his umbrella."

"oh really? that's nice of him," she smiled.

"he offered me to join our school's volleyball club..."

"that's wonderful! you haven't played in so long."

"I didn't say I was going to join."

his mother frowned.

"but you loved volleyball..."

"you know I stopped playing after he left."

"that shouldn't stop you from playing it. volleyball used to be your passion."

his mother, ayaka, was sad to hear her son did not want to join his high school's volleyball club. when he was younger he wasn't passionate or enthusiastic about many things except volleyball.

she was happy when her son found something he finally loved but after some stuff happened, he swore to never play volleyball again.

"get some rest while I make dinner, I'll wake you up when it's finished," [name] said after a couple of moments of silence passed and he stood up to walk out of her room.

[name] sighed as he took some of the groceries he bought earlier that day and started cooking dinner. the cooking club was nice enough to lend over some free space in their fridge for the boy to put his groceries in.

even though he didn't have friends at school, he was on good terms with most people and is highly respected.

he was really tired when he finished cooking dinner. waking up early, going grocery shopping, attending school, taking care of his kid sister and sick mother, providing dinner, and having to do a closing shift at the Cafe he worked at was too much for a 17-year-old boy.

sometimes [name] wished he could have a different life.

he loves his sister and mother dearly but sometimes he wishes he can be like normal teenage boys his age.

before he delve deeper into self-pity he cursed himself for his selfish thoughts.

no, not today.

he wasn't going to make his day worse by going into his life crisis.

he made a plate for two.

he brought a plate to his mother who thanked him with sad eyes and left the other plate on the dining table.

he opened his sister's bedroom door, where she was sitting in her little makeshift fort.

"dinner is ready downstairs once you're done," he said to kazuha who smiled and thank him.

he went back downstairs and got ready to go to work. this time bringing an umbrella.

even though he was exhausted from a long day, he was ready to work a long night shift with his annoying coworker to provide for his family whom he cares for so much.