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rise-my-angel · 6 months ago

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Heart of the Great Wolf

59 - Court of the North

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 17.3k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, past character death, distrustful and deceitful actions, possessive behavior and language, subspace tendencies, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v

Notes: A breather from the last few heavy chapters, but also a slow burning plot in the background I hope you all enjoy! Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

Of all things to make you nervous, this seemed as if it was the most simple one to surpass. It was easy in writing, and Jon was confident where you felt nothing but a racing heart to accompany the ragged nerves. Though, he had offered more then once to delay this for you sake. The eve before, Jon had been undoing the braids in your hair, which he had done in the morning, murmuring warm in your ear that if you were not comfortable yet, you did not need to do this.

Leaning back almost instinctively closer to his warm, gentle touch running through each strand of your hair you had withheld the urge to shake your head. “Most already know about it, the longer I hide away the more impatient they may feel.” Jon had not responded right away, sighing deep enough which you could feel dance across your skin closer to your ear. Before he could say a word, you had attempted to control the damage of what you had worried he thought you to imply. “I only mean, everyone has questions about near everything. While we even attempt getting things together, the least I could do is give them something to focus on.”

If you could have turned around to glance at Jons expression, you’d have seen his brows furrow down towards you as his jaw clenched. Attempting to seek out the right words, you both knew Jon was trying to not overwhelm you in multiple manners. Since the other night, you and him had been on much more equal terms in understanding of where your mind was and wasn’t at any given time. Jon particularly did not wish to let you wander too far into doubt or blame, should it lead to you spiralling away too far for him to coax you back again.

Mumbling both under his breath, and also loud enough to make his words known you Jon was certainly rasping through an unidentifiable frustration. “They have enough to focus on, without me throwing you into the centre of it. You’re only just starting to get better-” Attempting to placate that you were fine, Jon did not even acknowledge that you were still speaking. Continuing to talk right over you with more of a firm authority. “I don’t want you to be fine. Everytime you try and settle for being fine, you end up way too close to going right back to getting worse.”

It wasn’t a judgment, but for that brief moment the darkness of such a fog told you just what he was attempting to say the opposite of. That you not getting better faster, was being a burden.

If Jon could tell from the degree which your shoulders stiffened even under his gentle, massaging touch, he made not a motion of it. Your words were quiet, were he not right behind you, you may have not even been heard. “I am trying, Jon. I promise.”

The sigh was monumental for a man like him. Hands dropping from your hair to smooth down your upper arms, bare to the cold room as he had stripped you down to only a shift by the time he had brought you over to the cabinet to undo the braids across your head. Nudging the side of your head with his just enough that he could rest against you, eyes trailing down as much as they could to watch you. “This isn’t about that. We have a baby, darling. I only want to share you and our son with everyone enough so they can see the life we made together. But I won’t make you, you know that.”

Nodding almost to yourself, as Jon let one arm slink around your front to pull you back into him closer, your hands reached down to rest there. Pushing up the soft material against his forearms to trace along the skin you could find your thumb winding across his wrist to find his pulse, strong and steady underneath as it had been ever since it started once more. “I only-” Cutting yourself off with a sigh, Jon nudged the side of your head again almost in the same affectionately pestering way Ghost would to prompt you to continue. “I don’t want to disappoint any one. Let alone you.”

Murmuring in your ear with a low rasp which could’ve sent shivers flying up your spine as they vibrated against you, Jons tone was far more teasing then your serious one might have elicited. “Disappointed in what?” When you had no answer, Jon pulled you closer. His grin was felt against the hair he nudged his nose against playfully. “Let me show you off for one morning.” A gentle ask of only one, and Jon replaced any touch to the side of your head with a press of his lips. “Only one. I’m too possessive for anything more then that.”

Now though, as you stood more dressed and done up then you had been in well over half a year, your reflection told nothing but calmness. Your heart however, disagreed along with the dizzy feeling coursing through your veins and infecting your bloodstream. The nerves of last night nothing compared to it now. Jon though, looked as he always did, except for the ease in which on the other side of his chambers, did he have little Eddard in his arms.

Barley able to catch he was speaking, the low rasp whispered down to him was received either with muffled babbles of the babies own, or small giggles. A world in which could exist that Jon would not have anything close to this, felt as if it should be held accountable for such a high crime. As if he was born to be a father, no matter the outlook on the matter his entire previous life. In truth you had caught yourself stuck watching him as if you had never seen such a sight.

The way father and son would reach out to one another, causing Jon to smile and thus making the baby smile right back. Soon enough you could imagine both of them would taunt you with matching smiles to convince you of anything and everything. Turning in their spot, Jon shifted little Eddard in his arms to look him over to you as well, purposely whispering something in his ear which you could not heard from where you were.

A jesting tone coming about your voice with a mocking narrowing disapproval on your face, “Keeping secrets from me already, you two are.” Jons smile only widened in an unfairly handsome manner, causing you to turn away before the ruse of unamusement was revealed in a wanting grin. “No, no. Please, continue.”

Turning back you purposely did not look in the reflection of the mirror before you as the sound of Jons approaching figure came up behind you. Toying mindlessly with the laces at the waist of your dress as if to retighten them, you felt Jons warm come up to your back. One hand clearly busy holding Eddard firm against his upper torso, the other winding around to grasp at one of your hands and replacing it to toy with the laces himself. Rasping deeply and enticingly into your ear, “We could put this off.” His head dropping down to press a kiss to the skin below your ear, mumbling into it with hot breath. “Stay up here, let me enjoy you before going down there to show you off to everyone.”

Your hands swiftly grasped at his, knowing you could feel the grin coming over his face as yours fell with a playfully disapproving one as you pulled him away from undoing the front of your dress. “You are aware you’re holding our son.”

Jons response seldom helped with the light feeling in your stomach, only that time the nerves came off much more as light and floating then anxious. “And? There’s only one way to give him a baby sister-”

Just as his head dropped to your neck you pulled more forward trying to wrench yourself from his grasp, calling his name out with a laugh. Pulling one subsequently from him. Jon grasped the side of your head to press a kiss before turning you by your hip to face him. Your hands rested on his waist as he pulled you into his free side while adjusting how he stood so the baby could see you too. Glancing to the later, your voice dropped playfully as you leaned in as if whispering to him alone. “You’re starting to see why it didn’t take so long to make you?”

The little giggle from the baby as unknowing as always, responding almost only to the playful tone and grin painted too over your eyes that could so easily illicit something from him. Jon murmured still leaning more to catch your eyes, “It isn’t my fault I want you all hours of the day.” Running gently his nose along the bridge of yours, Jon nudged you a little as it to move you to the perfect position to capture your lips in his kiss.

One of your hands rose, wrapping around the back of his neck as the other pressed into his chest to lean up to meet him better. Softly guiding yours with something asking to go deeper, guided by using your grasp around his neck to his advantage. Leaning in as if to overpower you as he ever so briefly teased his tongue to toy with yours before returning to more of a chaste, long kiss.

Except, it was not only you two there, and a certain someone continued to prove they were as protective of you as his father. The sounds of a grumpy babbling protest came from Eddard as a tiny hand came up as if to tap at what he could reach of Jons shoulder. Once to catch his attention, and the other having Jon pull suddenly from your lips to turn and look down with a playfully incredulous look of offence. Without sparing a moment he leaned down more to him, “She was mine first. You have to share her.”

If an infant of barley over a week could say no, the unhappy fidgeting sounds coming from Eddard would have been just that. Leaving your hip to cup the back of his sons head, Jon pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head, muttering back that yes he does. You grabbed the hand of the baby’s which had hit at Jons attention, with a kiss of your own. Leaning in to meet his wide green eyes. “Go easy on him, he deserves a reward for having to put up with the both of us, does he not?”

Once again, he seemed to disagree as long as he was close enough whenever Jon would kiss you. Even from such an age, a protective little wolf he was already. Finally, Jon gently put him more comfortably into your arms, keeping the small bundle laying out more so he could hopefully feel more at ease seeing your face before bringing him out to the world.

Jons lips found your forehead that time before pressing his against it, a hand running through the hair behind your head soothingly. “There will be a lot of people wanting to see you and speak to us, if its too much-” Trying to gently protest saying you could handle talking to that many, Jon just smiled softly, tilting your head up to meet his eyes again better. “I’m saying, if you get tired at all, tell me. No one is going to take issue with a newborn mother needing to sit down for a little while. Don’t push yourself.”

As if it came out without a single thought, which it likely did, you knew the moment it slipped from your mouth you were in trouble later for it. “That doesn’t quite sound like what you were encouraging with me the other night.”

Jon though did not hesitate to turn you towards the door of his chambers before pulling you tightly gripped into his side. That time, his voice more akin to a growl as he muttered into your ear. “I moved you to the bed, because I wanted you to simply lay there and take it, darling. I’ll gladly do all the work when I’m that deep inside of you.” Such a mistake you had made, Jon was a man of promises. And he needed not vocalize a promise in order to ensure he would later act on it. He hadn’t wanted to push you, but finally you were slowly coming around more and more to wanting to be with him again without the anxieties of the dark fog surrounding it.

It was still there, but not so overpowering all day anymore at the least. Hopefully, it was kind enough to hold itself off from getting in the way of the mornings proceedings. And as you approached the corridors nearing the main hall, with Jon on one side of you, the approaching feeling on the other of Ghost almost acted as the final pillar of support. It had only been the three of you the night you brought little Eddard into the world, and it was when the four of you were together now did you all finally feel a little more put together, a pack a little more whole.

Jon promised he would do most of the initial talking, and for you to, as he specifically put it “To stand there and look beautiful as always.” Which luckily for you, beyond the initial scene of celebration, there was little pomp or theatrics involved like twice seen in Kings Landing. The North as always, was never quite as obnoxious about it’s royalty then those surrounding the Iron Throne.

The rest of the council proper respectively took their places amongst the Northern Lords, and beyond them the crowd of people both within the hall and outside its doors. Many from Winter Town and around to give congratulations and welcome backs to their King in the North. Keeping you with a hand at your lower back at all times as he spoke, Jon ensured you were close to him comfortably. You stood in front of the main table, and the only other ones by were on Jons side.

Bran in his new wheelchair which he had seemed rather happy with, no doubt feeling much more independent. Followed by Arya behind him, normally taking turns with Meera, currently in the crowd beside her father, to be the one to push Brans chair for most of the hard work. Arya had taken well to Bran being back, and despite her not having been near him since he had awoken without the use of his legs, she was happy to take turns with Meera to get him around. A small trio together, but for now it was only the two Starks up with you, as they watched their brother with pride.

Behind you on your side was your mother, a more difficult to read expression. Not that you blamed her. In some ways, children were a difficult topic for both of you, let alone sons. She had lost all of her boys before they were born, and she had once thought she lost her chance at having a grandson when learning of the night at the Twins. But here she watched you, finally with a son and with a feeling inside few would know how to read. But no doubt, it was nothing compared to the fight of calm and nerves shining across yours everytime you caught sight of the crowd before you, when not paying attention squarely on Jon or little Eddard in your arms.

There was only one Stark present, whom did not join up with the others of the family, but unlike Jon’s keen eyes, you had yet to notice the way she was watching you three through the morning.

Part of her felt bad for being so suspicious. Her eyes narrowed as she now stood off to the side, everything in her direct eyeline looked fine. But there still sat something in her head which refused to be quiet. It was as if everyone here had accepted the events which played out but never once gave thought to how it looked, let alone question what had truly been taking place leading to it.

It wasn’t as if in her mind, Sansa was going to accuse her older brother of holding you down and forcing you against your will. That would be a leap so grand even she knew was to a vastly unrealistic extreme. You had seemed willing from every way she watched it, but Sansa knew too well what role most women like herself and you had to play. Sometimes one may be able to pretend enough that their situation was fine, that they fell into it without anymore questions or care for the rest.

Almost too many times to count did Sansa meet women who played the dutiful wife in public, but you seemed to not quite grasp what she had been getting at the other night. As if you didn’t question what was going on or what this could be, should her darker suspicions be proven right.

Standing up by the front of the main hall, you had been standing next to Jon for some time as people all came forth to meet the newborn in your arms. When nothing else took his attention away, she could see Jon had a hand on your person as much as he could, sometimes pulling you more into his side if you drifted too much or whispering something to you alone to hear. It looked..well to Sansa, it looked like Jon was being extremely possessive. You didn’t seem to question any of it, as if to you, everything was fine.

But Sansa had yet to shake off that feeling as if something was not quite right about the situation between you and her bastard brother. The last she had ever heard of you before coming here was that you were dead. You, Robb, her mother, and yours and Robbs unborn son. The war was lost for you all, and won to the people of the capitol and it never ceased being a point of mocking pride to Joffery.

The memory of her final day in Kings Landing. The formal morning feast to celebrate Joffery and Margaery’s wedding day, Lord Tywin had gifted his grandson a Valyrian Steel sword. First using it to cut into pieces the grand book Tyrion had gifted his nephew, before waving it around to the crowd. Toying with it he had first joked that it would be like “Cutting off Ned Stark’s head,” everytime he used it. As gut churning as it had been to hear, it was followed up by him asking the crowd what to name it.

When Widow’s Wail had been chosen, Joffery had gleefully commented that it was as if he could hear your wailing and crying all the way here the night you, her brother and mother were all slaughtered. That it was a shame the baby never had a chance to be born before he too could “hear his mothers crying” before you died. It had made her angry the longer she had thought about it. None of them would have had a reason to know from the moment a blade entered your stomach, to your death, you had been drowning in your own blood to the degree you were incapable of making a sound.

She had never heard you come close to crying her entire life, but you had heard Sansa cry countless times, and been the one comforting her more often then even her mother did. That horrible day by the river, how Sansa knew she was letting Joffery treat the butchers boy terribly, and how she had yelled at Arya for it, when looking back on it, Sansa knew her sister hadn’t truly done anything wrong. But Sansa was too naive then, she didn’t really know what to do.

So when Cersei had told her to come before King Robert and tell him what she saw, Sansa had glanced to her father, taken back and confused by this display, then to you. Watching with narrowed eyes but the suspicion was directed towards neither sister. She had meekly said everything happened too fast, that she didn’t see anything. Arya had yelled at her over and over calling her a liar before hitting the back of her head and grabbing at her hair. Both sisters begun to struggle and yell at the other when their father had grabbed Arya yelling at her to stop it, you had detangled the girls grabbing at each other and pulled Sansa to the side shouting at both of them, “Enough.”

Later it was when Sansa had figured out that to spare the fate she knew was coming, Arya chased Nymeria off by force. As Cersei asked about it, you had shared a knowing look with Arya as you had quickly put it together when one of the guards had said, “We found no trace of the direwolf, your grace.”

But you had certainly known what was about to happen the moment Cersei stated, “We have another wolf.” The King had said so be it, and you had turned to him passing through the Starks with a hiss that he couldn’t mean it. He had only said, gesturing to the confused Sansa to get her a dog instead, that a direwolf was no pet.

Still Sansa could remember the horrible realization, how she tried to plead and shout, grabbing at her fathers arm and begging him not to let them do this. The way Arya didn’t hesitate to angrily look towards Cersei yelling at her that it wasn’t Ladys fault, to leave her alone. Sansa still could recall how she had turned to yell desperately to the Queen. “Please, please, it wasn’t Lady-” As soon as Cersei had started to give orders was when their father interrupted.

Feeling exactly as it happened, the moment her father had morosely told Jory “Take the girls to their rooms.” Did she break. The sobs desperate to come out instantly as Sansa realized what was about to happen, and how as if she had reverted back to a little girl had almost turned into you, and how without any hesitation did you let her fall into your embrace attempting to balance a seriousness and a comfort. Sansa years later had listened to Joffery mock in front of the people in Kings Landing that you probably had cried desperately before you died, and all she could feel was that night and how you ran a hand over her hair the more she tried not to burst into blatant tears.

Her father had told the Queen without any hesitation what Sansa had not been ready to hear for months. “The wolf is of the North. She deserves better then a butcher.” Before looking to you as you both shared a tiny nod of understanding did he leave the building. You gently waiting for Jory to take your place, before you nearly shoved passed the Lannister men around you all to follow.

She had not known it for a long time, but once Lady was gone, you had been the one to stay with her last for the proper final time. Cleaning the blood from her fur, and wrapping her up in a sheet with herbs tucked away as to not let the smell of eventual rot overtake. You had watched the four guards take Lady’s body back North until they no longer could be seen. Sansa had not been allowed to have one final time with Lady, and she didn’t know for a long time that you had taken that time in her place for her.

For a long time after that, Sansa would dream about Lady. They would be together in the warm sun, running together. When she would wake up, she would call out Lady’s name as if she would again see her direwolf’s golden eyes, but she never did. She would wake up, the dream would fade away, and Lady was dead again. Sansa suspected you understood that it never stopped hurting for her.

That evening at the table, she and Arya had been yelling at each other and when her sister had thrown part of an orange at her Sansa had let her emotions get the best of her. Shouting that she wished they had killed Arya instead of Lady, and never had Sansa forgotten the way you yelled at her. Only her name in a warning, but you had never yelled at her like that before, never given her that look before and she sat in a shocked, guilty silence over it. You had then covered up for her and Arya both when their father came in questioning the rooms tensity.

Sansa had tried returning to her food, sensing her father sitting something down beside her with a gentle, “That’s for you, love.” Opening the draw stings, you had begun pouring wine out for her father and settling into your seat finally. The doll inside was well made, the hair yellow and draped along the back of a white porcelain face. A dusty pink dress with a dark blue vest sat over top with gold trim around the edges of it matching the hair. Telling her with a hope in his voice, “The same doll maker makes all of Princess Myrcella’s toys.” As she looked at it in silence, he had asked, “Don’t you like it?”

She did. But in that moment, she hadn’t wanted to tell her father that. He was trying to reach out to her gently after what happened to Lady but she was too upset to listen. Not even looking at him she had snided out, “I haven’t played with dolls since I was eight. May I be excused?”

You had been far more stern about it then even Septa Mordane would’ve been, had she still been at the table. Barley glancing at her between the sip of wine passing your lips, “A thank you is traditionally the first appropriate response.”

Her father though, gave her a break, only telling her it was alright and to let her leave. Storming off, she had sensed your eyes following her retreating figure along with her father. Had she stuck round for a few seconds longer, she may have heard the amusement between you both as her father tilted his head in a slight exasperation. “War is easier then daughters.”

You had only laughed, jesting in reply “I’m inclined to believe my father would agree with you.”

Spending more time doing your duty by her fathers side, Sansa had almost never seen you in your time together in Kings Landing. Then you and her father were arrested. It felt like treason in and of itself, being forced to write to Robb, calling you and her father traitors. She had desperately hoped that Robb would not hate her for it. She had no choice, Cersei had told her it was essentially the only thing Sansa could do to try and help you and her father.

The night you had escaped, Sansa had recalled looking out the window with but a single candle to light. Preying that you would make it to Robb safely, and you did. Then Robb and you had declared war, then everything else followed and the deaths to come.

Sansa hadn’t even known she was to have a nephew until she was told of her families slaughter. You and Robb had died together, and your unborn son, from what all accounts said, was horrifically butchered and cut from your womb. The whispers had spoken that Roose Bolton had carved you open so deeply, that had the baby been fully grown inside of you, it would have spilled out amongst all of the blood and insides which came from you too. That was the last image she had when she’d try and think about what your final days looked like.

So, to stand there in the hall that morning, Sansa struggled to see the sight in front of her as anything but a trick. As if you were just being used for your position. She didn’t know anything close to if that was true, but perhaps it was easier to go down that train of thought for now then it was to accept the actual truth. Thus, she let it fester.

Looking around the room, she wondered who would she even be able to speak to who could give answers. Many of the Lords here all accepted the situation, and she did not know them well. So she turned her attention to those she already knew. Arya and Bran were not here for your time before marrying him, and she didn’t know most of the advisors by your and Jons side. But she did know Theon.

He had slunk off to the side of the room, likely to escape the crowed never ending in front of you and Jon. As she silently came to his side, she matched close to his posture allowing the quiet to brew between as he sensed she was there no doubt. You had been confused by her more direct questions the other night, so she this time, started as subtle as she could.

“When did they get married?”

Theon glanced to her in question, before turning back to where her gaze also kept on them as he thought back. Though, his expression was far more forgiving then her blank yet stern one. “If I’m not mistaken, they are actually drawing close to a full year to the day sooner or later.”

Quiet she was, as even more quiet as she kept her voice to herself and Theon alone with your name coming from her lips. “She reunited with Jon, and it took what? A half a year after that point for them to marry?” Theon affirmed only the timeline, not the unknown breakdown within her head, but no doubt was attempting to put it together the more she asked. “He was only crowned King in the North after about a month when they reunited. Then five months after that, he marries her. If being King meant that it didn’t matter a highborn marries a bastard, that timing seems odd.”

Theon had shrugged as he crossed his arms over his front. “With all due respect,” Nodding towards you, “If she hadn’t been so tormented in her head for so long, I think Jon may have married her the same bloody night they called him King.” Whatever meaning he had behind did not match Sansa’s. It only made her grow more suspicious.

Playing her cards a little too loosely, she took the risk to assess it outloud between them. “So, he rushes to marry her, and then as soon as they are he gets her pregnant right away.” To Theon, that was a very uncomplicated and general paraphrasing of the utmost disaster that was your developing relationship with Jon, but he had not found intent in dismantling her point just to over explain a relationship that wasn’t his.

Face twisting almost like a wince, he directed his gaze to the side to notice her watchful eyes yet unmoving. “Everyone kept still calling her Queen. May as well make it less complicated.” Sansa had not picked up on the fact that it was only a joke. His follow up though, only made her eyes narrow more at Jon. “As for getting her pregnant, I don’t think I should need explain that process to you by now. A man lays with the same woman enough times, eventually it will happen.”

In her mind, she struggled to rationalize it in a different way, no matter what her better logical side was insisting on. She found herself deep into something she knew deep down, was a rather harsh outlook. Jon had rushed into marrying you, and rushed into getting you pregnant and now here he stood. King in the North, with a son and heir with the once Queen in the North. Made officially so, when it was Robb you were at the side of. You had been married to Robb before made King and Queen and you both had lost the son unborn to you. Yet now, her bastard brother stood in Robbs place. His crown, lands, title and even his wife. Only Jon now gets the son which Robb never had a chance to have. Robb didn’t have an heir when he died, and yet it felt as if Jon rushed into ensuring you birthed him an heir.

With a son between you two, it would certainly make his position a lot harder now to denounce. In her worst reading, which Sansa was unable to send away from her mind, it was all rather unfavourable. Robb was a Stark, and when he was named King in the North you became his Queen already being his wife. You then both died before you had a chance to birth Robb a son and heir.

Then Jon, their bastard brother who laws Sansa grew up with stated he had no rights too, claims Robbs title as King in the North. Then to ensure his claim is strong, marries his brothers widow, the last Queen in the North and as soon as he can, puts a child in you. And here he stood with a son and heir to present to the Northern Lords. But as she looked around the room, it felt as if not a single person was seeing the deception which Sansa was.

Struggling to tell herself that this wasn’t a manipulative ploy to use you for your position, just for Jon to strengthen his own. It was as if no one was seeing this for what it could be, but her.

“I imagine it is too late to try and tell them that they did not have to bring gifts of any form?” Jon chuckled deep in his chest as he turned more into your side as a hand slipped to your opposite hip, turning you to match his position. Muttering under his breathe that it certainly seemed too late.

Thus far little Eddard had done well with the attention as long as you didn’t pass him off out of your or Jons arms. Both yourself and Jon spending much time ensuring either he or yourself were interacting with him in some fashion seemed to help. A small wave of a very tiny arm reaching out to him, and Jon without a hesitation allowed the baby to grab at what he could reach of his hand as a good enough way to hold hands together, bright wide eyes gazing down to bridge wide eyes, as his other ran along the top of his head. “If you don’t sleep well after today, I don’t know if you ever will.”

Nudging him slightly to grab his attention you jested, “At least so far he doesn’t take after you in that sense.” Both of you well aware that in addition to a lifetime of sleep troubles, Jon now then ever before struggled to get enough sleep moreso then he was willing to admit to you. You had begun wondering if he simply could function on four or five hours compared to most normal people needing perhaps double that amount. Newborns though, especially early born newborns according to Maester Wolkan would often sleep more then they were awake for some time. Though when his cries would wake you and Jon up in the very dead of night, it certainly didn’t feel that way. But neither approached it with frustration, there was little point between you to get upset about what could not be changed. Often the little one would allow you both to just begin falling back asleep before needing something else, only causing you both to laugh gently into one another at his needing timing.

“One can only hope he takes after you in other ways.”

Both your eyes and Jons tore up from the baby to the approaching figure. Jon was either doing a far worse job then you at feigning civil pleasantries, or was not even trying to hide his glare. You had perhaps a little more experience in playing that role with the man in question as you were the one to greet him in a half meaning greeting. “Lord Baelish.”

Giving an appropriate bow, he made a vauge gesture of asking further permission to approach. None of you made a scene in front of the crowd, or the few watchful eyes. Allowing him to come close as he continued on as if a conversation was being shared previous. “Even so young, it is lovely to see the little Prince with so much wolf in him, and a wonderful choice of name.”

You couldn’t quite pin why the way he said it made you uncomfortable, but perhaps it was bordering on a mocking that he thought neither you nor Jon would pick up on. The unspoken tension was saying otherwise. Jon had taken up the discussions mantle for you, with a short and unhidden tone of dislike which the man before you did not seem surprised nor perturbed by. As if he had already experienced this side of Jon well before right now. “If only his grandfather could be here to meet him.”

The tension between both was something you knew had already boiled beyond a safe point. Pulling the baby a little closer into your front as if to shift him away from the mans clear view, contrasting to the manner you attempted to placate anything furthering then this. “Forgive me, my lord. I am surprised to see you’re still here. Surely a man such as yourself has many matters to attend to in the Vale?”

He was at ease more dealing with you, Littlefinger switching his tone and gaze to something much better suited for what he always did best in playing to a specific crowd. “I have many matters all over to attend to, your grace. The Vale is simply one place as such, and I have many trusted men there to keep the peace for me while I’m gone.”

You had the sense, Jon had never seen the kind of smile on you before, which sat present on your face. One so unreaching of your eyes it was almost staggering how false it was. “You have never been this far North before, if I am not mistaken. I could only wonder as to what business then would keep you here now that you have safely delivered Sansa Stark home.”

The nonchalant mannerisms in his gestures as he spoke was merely a smokescreen of casual conversation. But the eyes watching both from Bran and Arya spoke even more suspect of him. All but interrupting their conversation with Meera to watch him close and untrusting. He did not acknowledge it, but you knew he was aware of it. “Let’s simply say, making up for past mistakes.”

Not a moment could pass to breathe before your false polite demeanour had nearly spoken back with a thick layer of condescension. “Winterfell should run out of candles before you find enough to light in forgiveness for that amount of errors, my lord.”

He did not react, not did your eyes blink watching him. The air was heavy before he found himself overstaying his welcome to the degree it could grow too noticeable. Looking between your son and you, he did not even make such a chance of including Jon in the formality. “I congratulate you both on the birth of your son. I believe I had once wished you a future of beautiful children, it is a shame it took this long to get you back from the summer heat, in order to finally achieve that.”

Littlefinger bowed before making his leave, and your watchful eyes as he retreated would tell Jon that more was being said between you both then either party had used in genuine words. You had told him that Littlefinger had once used his knowledge of your early time with Jon as a threat, but not what he said to do it. Nor that such a threat was now being used as a crude slash at your heart for what he felt that comfortable implying to your face, in front of all attending.

Jon didn’t however, need to say a word either for Ghost to catch what he was trying to tell him. And as Petyr Baelish made his leave from the main hall, as subtly behind did the sight of a large, white direwolf with watchful red eyes. Jon it seemed, had enough of letting the man walk about his home without eyes he could trust watching his every move.

And he knew you weren’t yet aware of it, but Jon couldn’t help but wonder how much the distrustful way Sansa was attempting to pretend she wasn’t watching him with, was influenced by the retreating figure Ghost now followed.

To some degree, she put more trust in Littlefinger then Jon, and he knew that acting with swift aggression towards the man would only alienate her more. Having Littlefinger in his home, around his family and his wife was one thing but Jon was not going to let him do so in any secret any longer. Afterall, Jon was more then aware that he and you had secrets between one another that a man like him would never conceive of guessing. And more then one at that.

As evening fell on the day, should those present have been aware, one watching one watching another should have been an amusing sight.

Yet none knew they were being watched, let alone followed save for the first of the chain. As night continued to fall quickly over the sky as the depths of winter grew closer, so did the beauty of the snow which was illuminated by the brightness of moonlight. On the clearest of nights, even the stars were visible shining along with it, but it was not quite so lucky this far north for such things. Not that you were put off by such a notion. You had grown up by the sea, always able to look up into the stars far into the distance as if they were falling into the water the further they travelled.

When you were very young, you had always wondered what the lands beyond your island home could have possibly looked like. Across the Narrow Sea you couldn’t imagine anything but what you knew, just a large span of islands stretching across water, each city their own plot of land separate from another and you could not imagine it could look as beautiful as the world you came to see, was.

The first time you left your home was not truly what you’d call a journey. Sailing young to Storm’s End and you had never came close to leaving the castle. Only from the front gates to the beach leading down to the waters you knew well. You had at such a young age always wished that your family had been allowed to live there. Storm’s End was large and sturdy, as if the largest of creatures could come crashing through it’s walls and every stone would stand in place without a shake. By the waters wind it was always beautiful and cool but the further inland one get it grew warm and even hot in the summers, but unlike Dragonstone, there was no volcano sat within the middle to smoke and smoulder to set the lands alight with the scent of brimstone.

The tomb of your family lay there, stretching back to it’s beginning. Not as long existing as many families in Westeros, but to your young mind it may as well been the beginning of time which they started. You had asked your father would one day you be buried with them here, or would one need to be made on Dragonstone. He had assured you, Baratheon’s belonged here with each other. You had spent many years wishing your King Uncle would have let you live here, all the things in the world you could’ve had.

But as you walked through the snow now, the light falling having given the previous footsteps a fresh dusting which you followed in near perfect succession, you knew that would have been for the worse. You had no resources on Dragonstone which were not thickly coated in a history of dragons, and few wished to travel there to live in order to provide you with education. You had no friends, not real ones at the least.

The other children anywhere near the castle were years older then you, and did not wish to stood low and play immature games with such a small girl nor did they want you tagging along and interrupting their own fun. The ones whom were your age were separated by the woods between the castle and villages on the other side of the island. You seldom had reason to be brought that far and thus when you did, you were treated far more as their Lords daughter then a girl wishing for friends.

The first time you had seen anything of the North, you felt such a strange feeling. It was large, such a large and vast stretch of land that kept going and going. By the time your ship had stopped in White Harbour already the people were so different. With each other they were loud and lively and yet also somehow felt as cold as the lands around you. You had felt as if each person was angry with you, but you did not understand what. Your father had told you that Lord Eddard Stark had two sons your age, but upon learning that they were in fact both at least two years older then you and much taller, you had felt the same worry. That you were now just in closer proximity to children whom did not want to waste their time on a childish little girl.

Sometimes they could be so cold and serious like the adults around you, that you worried that they would be annoyed with you when you weren’t as mature. You had wanted to go home, you wanted to have been able to live in Storm’s End so you never had to come here, you had one chance to make friends and for weeks you were scared they hated having to put up with you.

If such a thought wasn’t ironic enough now, you knew it was even moreso considering that you for those first weeks, thought Jon specifically hated you. He and Robb together could laugh and have fun no matter what they were doing, but whenever Jon had to interact with you, you felt like he waned to be anywhere else. Robb would be the one to come find you to get you to come with whatever he and Jon were doing, but it then would always feel like the later was trying to force you to grow up already so you weren’t as annoying to deal with. Always hovering over you like you were a burden he was forced to watch.

You had been on a ride through the wolfswood one afternoon, the lightest mood you had been in thus far just in awe of how far the North went on and on. Robb had to turn back at one point, telling his brother were he not back in half of an hour or so, to continue on without him. So you and Jon had stopped by a cliffside so you would all be somewhere recognizable for Robb to spot coming back.

A feeling of guilt had sat within you, being forced to watch you like you were an infant when clearly Jon would’ve preferred just going back with his brother. You had attempted to stay mostly on the other side of the flat clearing of land you two were on, shoving down most things you came up with to say in case he would finally snap, and tell you to shut up. You didn’t know when the thought came to you, but part of you wondered if you could see how far the woods went on for if you stood at the top of the cliffside.

There was no clear path up for some time by the sides, so you looked back. He wasn’t looking, and you didn’t want to annoy him by asking, so you quietly did it on your own. You had done this sort of thing all the time alone, so you had found it quite easy to climb up. By the time Jon had noticed you weren’t where he left you, he had but all yelled your name when he realized. But you were nearing the halfway point and it would take more effort to climb down from where you were then to keep going.

The sight almost was as fascinating as it was puzzling. The way not even this high up did the wolfswood seem to have an ending. It simply kept going and going. You didn’t realize with how long you had been looking out to the sight, that Jon had followed you up. When he had grabbed your arm saying your name, you for a moment were swept up in the sight before you that you had merely turned to him in excitement asking all of the wolfswood looked like this.

Face falling though, as he looked at you with those grey eyes speaking something you couldn’t understand, you had begun to apologize, that you’d never do it again. Jon had called your name twice as you attempted to promise you could get down on your own when he nearly shouted it. Wide eyes looking up at him in nerves though, did he smile. “Do you do this a lot on Dragonstone? Climbing?”

Confused at his sudden tone change, you nodded. Muttering as your head dropped with an honesty that you didn’t have any friends there so you explored the woods behind the castle and learned that you liked to climb. You recalled feeling taken aback when he had smiled more turning to stand more beside you to look to the same sight. “Well, I know you like to ride already. And now I know two things you like that we can do together.”

Sometimes it still felt after that like he was watching over you, but less and less did it seem as if he did it because he was obligated too but more because he was always on the lookout for things that you enjoyed or liked, so he could start doing them with you more often. You made friends with he and Robb both quickly, but Jon was your first true friend.

It was why now, everything you wanted as a girl felt backwards. Had you lived on Storm’s End, you’d never have had a single reason to be sent to Winterfell. You’d have never understood the beauty of the winters cold as you walked through thick trees coated in snow as you walked into the night of the godswood. And never would you have lived any life leading to the sight you had stumbled onto.

The Weirwood tall and even in the darkness, the red leaves stood out so vividly against all else. The white bark blending into the snow which too nearly hid the just as white figure of Ghost. The direwolf’s eyes as red as the leaves and directed towards the sight you were a fool for once attempting to live a life leading away from this. His original white fur around your shoulders, but his now were thick and dark, matching the colours of fine leather underneath and his long, black curls all once more pulled back entirely as his grey eyes shined bright in the moonlight still sitting between the clouds.

You could not hear him from there, but you could see the gentle way he held little Eddard in his arms, both facing the wonder of the Weirwood as if already sharing with his son, the beliefs which sat so strongly within him. For a good moment did you not even find it in you to disrupt the three of them. A trio of wolves all in a place encompassing so much of who and what they were that it felt a rare moment you considered yourself an outsider.

But it was striking, how in any point in your life you wanted things which would have certainly taken having any of this, far away from you. That this wasn’t a land you’d always yearn to return too, that twice you would kneel before a heart tree and offer your heart, life, and purpose to a wolf, a Stark, a man of the North and it was with him which you belonged. Both of them, but the sight before you was the one which all blood and death had led you and Jon towards and there was no longer use in pretending as if any of it was wrong. The only thing which was wrong, was the thought of ever thinking this place was not where you belonged. That you did not belong here, belong to him.

You had truly not even noticed Jon had caught sight of your appearance, watching the three of them with bright eyes shining with a ghost of a smile until he had affectionately called out to your name. “What are you doing back there?”

Noticing not the gentle smile already dancing across your lips you stepped forward more. “Admiring you three. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Coming close to the Weirwood, did the more eager sound of little Eddard cry out as two small arms shifted from under the blanket to reaching out. An even wider smile was to follow on you and Jon watching. A free arm reaching out to pull you close as you put your gloved hand in his. “Not interrupting means I can’t admire you.” Nearly close to a playful roll of your eyes was interrupted as he shifted his hand to cup your cheek. Tilting you up to more meet his gaze as he stepped as close into you as he could. Both of your hands reaching underneath the warmth of his fur cloak to rest at his waist, eyes fluttering closed the moment he continued to lean in closing the gap between your lips and his.

A gentle coax for you to simply let him guide you, you could feel the leather of his glove tracing over your cheek with his thumb. Jon barley deepening it, but not letting a single breath through your lungs pass without gifting it all to him. Each press of his lips almost tingling in your own as your hands clutched at him tighter before one drifted upwards. Tracing across the facial hair scratching under your palm at his jaw you almost pulled him closer to you, and you up to him.

Once, twice, again and again he moved his lips with yours but the second part of you or him shifted to deepen it did Jon tear from you. The kiss begging for more but instead tilting your head down to press a kiss firmly to your forehead and resting his own thus against it. The hand on your cheek now tracing along your hair loose down your back, raking through it gently enough by the back of your neck to keep you where he wanted. Your hands both now winding around the back of his neck as your lips begged you to lean up and kiss him once more. But he kept you in that position, until the needing tenseness in your shoulders relaxed for him. Only then his voice rasped so low and deep, vibrating in your ear. “I was telling our son that this was where we married.”

A gentle nod against him, not even unwilling to part from his warmth, but turning to rest your head more in the furs against his neck as you looked to where he still held little Eddard comfortably bundled in his arm. The press of Jons lips to the top of your head followed as you met the wide little green eyes looking up at you. One hand leaving Jon only to drift down to run along the side of the baby’s head as even just with the touch did his eyes begin to blink heavily. Murmuring against Jons front as the feeling of Ghost settling more by your feet join. “I’m almost shocked we didn’t already conceive you that night alone.”

His small ears not understanding a word of what that meant, but the feeling of Jon turning more to nuzzle the side of your head as he rasped for you alone, not even to reach the baby’s hearing as he cupped the back of your neck to keep you leaning up against him comfortably. “I was desperate to.” Only a hum left you to indicate you were listening, still letting a gloved hand run over little Eddard’s head as part of you considered in what felt like little time did you imagine he’d start growing out locks to match Jon perfectly, as he himself continued to murmur into your ear. “How many times did I take you that night? Six? Seven?”

A shiver ran right down your spine, warming your insides substantially as it begun to travel between your legs, the hand still around the back of your neck tightening ever so slightly. Yet not at all enough for Jon to miss, nor not catch the shaking tone of breathlessness which your voice spoke with. “I kept thinking about it..” A nudge against the side of your head when you faltered as if prompting you more commandingly to continue. “When you...when I was..”

The tone was rough but not even a smirk crossed his features, just a tightening of his hand by the back of your neck as his voice and accent flowed thick. “When I had you on top of me?” Only nodding as you almost nervously bit your tongue, Jon continued to contrast by a gentle nuzzle against your hair as if a wolf while again his hand tightened more. “Gods, I was so deep inside you that way.” That time the increasing tension in your blood had you lean more into Jons front as he found himself unable to stop rasping with a thick want in your ear. “You didn’t even know what to do.” Shaking your head no, you felt him breathe in deeply. “Just let me bounce you on my cock as much as I wanted.”

Once more you nodded, but that time Jon pulled your head from the furs hiding you in his neck to meet his eyes. Narrowed and a darkening grey with an expression any but you may have interpreted as angry, but his ramble came out almost instinctively. “You’ve always done that. Let me do anything I want to you.” Again you nodded, and that look tricking one of anger grew harsher as did he hold behind your neck. “I didn’t even ask to put a child inside of you. I did it because I wanted to, wanted to see you swell with my child. It’s like it doesn’t matter what it is I want, you’d let me do it to you no matter what it is.”

Letting the hand trace along his facial hair drop down to sit high on his upper torso, you inhaled long and deeply as you glanced down to what of Jon you could see, though the layers between you outside meaning you did not catch how hard you were making him, looking at him that way. There was an intention whenever Jon would tear his eyes down your body but knowing you were doing it in such a more innocently needing manner made him feel as if he was throbbing. Your voice but a whisper, letting your other hand drop from the growingly sleepy bundle Jon was still carefully holding to let it too join against his upper torso. “Because I trust you. With our son, me, anything.”

Jon only looked at you as the grey returned more to his eyes shining brightly before sighing out. Leaning down he captured your lips once more, a slow and chaste embrace pouring much of what he found himself unable to say into his kiss. A language you always knew how to read. Barley pulling back before he would reconnect, pressing multiple smaller kisses to your lips again ultimately failing each attempt to stop before you drifted your hands up. Cupping both sides of his face you indulged in a far more needing kiss, allowing him to go harsher as his teeth bite at your bottom lip.

Tearing away before he pushed it any further, he mumbled against your lips. “Do you know how I realized this one needs to go to sleep properly?” Tilting his head vaguely to where he held the baby you shook your head gently, only eliciting a breathy laugh to dance across your skin. “I’ve kissed you this much and he hasn’t fought me on it once.”

Your own laugh came so much easier, your forehead meeting his as he joined. Only pulling back from him enough to relieve him of his duty. “I can take him.” Gentle did he transfer him into your arms, never letting go until sure he was secure. Not in the way you as a girl feared, like he was making a fuss to ensure you did it right, but out of the sheer degree of protective within him. It was not yet often in the week of your return that little Eddard was found in one’s arms beyond you two.

Jon noticed you hadn’t responded to his comment truly, and now able to more freely, grasped the side of your cheek and jaw to tilt you to look up at him, his other running a thumb along and down the side of your neck. “How am I supposed to have you the way I want when my own son fights me for your attention?” Almost not bothering to let you answer, did Jon pass your lips by tilting your head enough to start pressing his lips down the sensitive length of your neck.

Knowing as you held the baby you were powerless to let him do so, your eyes fluttered in want to close as your voice breathed out high pitched as it was quiet. “He’s only protective. He doesn’t..” Swallowing the urge to let a whine bordering on a moan as you felt his tongue drag along your skin before once more covering up the trace with his lips, Jon stepped closer to you forcing him to lean down much more over your shorter stature to come with the same need. The hum in the back of his throat his only indication he expected you to keep speaking. “He doesn’t understand what any of this is yet..he-”

Tilting your head up to meet his now much more dark eyes as he dragged them down to your lips and back with a roughness scratching at his voice. “He’s lucky it’s cold out, or I’d have taken you right here as soon as he fell asleep.” Yanking you to meet, his kiss was so much more rough. Short lived but a deep harshness to it as he bit at your bottom lip tearing away, soothing with a single gentle kiss before running his nose along yours. “Let me get you two warm inside before I do anything else.”

Only a nod, you allowed Jon to turn you in place as he much more calmly called to Ghost. The direwolf getting up to start walking first as Jon pulled you into his side firmly, your head turning up to the side as he guided you away. “He’ll need to be fed before we sleep tonight, I assume.”

Jon left another firm kiss that time to the side of your head, his arm shifting upwards so he could grasp ahold of the white fur around your shoulders and strands of your hair which fell loose over it. His voice was steady and unphased, a striking opposite to the words slipping so easily from his deep voice. “I’ll long since have you bare by then, should make it easier.”

A shiver not from the cold winds ran back down your spine but he again looked unphased by his own words, despite the knowledge within Jons own head how painstakingly hard he had been since he first saw you appear like a vision sent to torment him by the gods. Dressed in his fur standing in the night snow of the Winterfell Godswood, you never made Jon more worked up then seeing you look so much like his, in his own home. It was possessive, but Jon was more then that he knew.

Jon knew he was little more then addicted to you, and looking down seeing you holding his son in your arms only had him pull you closer into his side. He adored you for so much more then your body, but for a man with few words, sometimes the rawness of lust he felt for you was his only way of expressing the degree of his love. Which made watching you simply interact with the baby something that made his cock howl at him to strip you bare and slip inside of you again and again.

Perhaps it was something only you two did and would ever understand, and for Jon he was perfectly fine with that. For the second pair of eyes watching someone else that night however, it was research. It was following what one told her to do despite how everyone else didn’t see a reason to care.

Your second night home, you had run into Sansa outside the crypts by the glass gardens and for everything you two spoke of that night, it was the whispering in her other ear during the daylight of Petyr which were speaking a different story. It was hard to keep up, her trust in you and her family on one and Petyr Baelish’s teachings on the other.

Was he feeding into her views to sully the already sour image he painted to her of her brother? She struggled to know that. She had watched you and seen something genuine, and even the way you both looked at each other was something Sansa had seldom seen adults share between each other. Certainly nowhere near anything she had ever come close to experiencing.

But then another part of her still sat in Petyr Baelish’s study, going over the details of what Alyane Stone’s life was. The lessons discussing how she will be perceived because she is posting as a bastard, and teaching her to not react in offence as if it would be the first she’s ever been treated as such. It was the words in her head which Petyr had so delicately taught her that festered in her mind like rot overtaking a bleeding wound.

“They will look down on you. You were raised with the love and worship of a highborn girl, but people will not gift you the same outlook anymore. People do not trust what is different from them, they will be suspicious and expect the worst of those who they do not trust. Everyone knows that bastards are wanton and treacherous by nature, having been born of lust and deceit.

It had been hammered away in Alyane Stone’s mind to the degree which even standing there once again as Sansa Stark, did she follow Petyr’s advice. Watch him, keep an eye on Jon when he is with you. Petyr was sure he said that for Sansa to properly pursue what was rightfully hers, that she will need you on her side. You were twice Queen in the North and a born and raised proper highborn. So he told her, watch what Jon does. Watch him manipulate you, watch him seduce you into staying rooted by his side. That was what Petyr had said.

Following you to the godswood, Sansa had watched the way Jon interacted with you. It was a manner she had scarcely seen a man ever interact with a woman, let alone coming from her own brother. She could hear Petyrs words. Wanton by nature, born of lust and deceit. It certainly looked as such. Exactly what Petyr had said people would say about Alyane when she was to cozy to the side of Harry Hardyng.

Petyr had said that a wife of Harry would be he envy of every highborn maiden in the Vale, even a few reaching as far as the Riverlands or the Reach. That because bastards were lustful and lecherous, the more she earned Harry the Heir’s favour the more women would hiss that she had somehow bewitched him. At the time, she felt it laughable. Alyane was the opposite of that, Harry had been rude her once because she was a bastard and she had taken off embarrassed.

It wasn’t until he returned at the ball to dance with her did she forgive him. Alyane was a bastard she was used to it, but within her, Sansa was a highborn girl. She was nothing of the sort. But then she stood there, spying on her own brother. Spying on you, by law twice you were her sister and to Sansa you had felt as such far before. But she spied, and all she could see and hear was exactly what Petyr warned her of.

Even when you were holding the baby, Jon could not keep his hands nor lips off of you. No doubt whispering things in you ear to keep you seduced to his side. Jon was her brother, but he was a bastard and Sansa struggled to see past one to get to the other. Her worst ideas which she already had tossed away for such ridiculousness were far beyond inaccurate.

Jon needn’t hold you down and force himself on you. The part of him which was a bastard had pushed away what of his blood was a Stark, and it was that side that had lured you into his bed willingly. And even now, keeping you on the edge and control of his lust, as if should you drift too far the spell would break and you’d see clearly.

But Sansa was not the only one watching. Because as she watched you and her brother, Littlefinger watched her. And this was not a plan he had yet to lose. He had brought Sansa Stark home, but in truth, he had trained Alyane Stone so well that she still watched and thought through Sansa’s eyes. He had told her to be distrustful of Jon. Littlefinger more then most men knew exactly what desire looked like, and it lived within Jon Snow’s eyes each time they even slightly drifted towards you.

So he conjured a story to Sansa that you were a traumatized and confused widow, bewitched and seduced by the lecherous and wanton ways of a jealous bastard brother. If Littlefinger could manipulate Alyane so much that such lessons could trick Sansa now, perhaps he knew, she was not the only one he may be able to sway against Jons side.

Some plans though, did not always work the way one intends. An example provided so generously by the same evening, now within the warm walls of Jons chambers sat an amusing one.

Jon had gotten as far as peeling off the cold outer layers covering you both before little Eddard had decided enough was enough. The rapid switch from blinking awake with such a gentle and precious look on his face to fidgeting and grumpy was one which drew laughs from both you and Jon rather quickly. Changing the order of things, peace was found first between you all before anything further.

You had argued playfully with Jon about pretending to allow you modesty, when as he helped with the top layer of your dress, did he end up all but yanking the fabric away to allow your breasts bare. A fluster swimming up your chest and into your eyes as you had protested. Jon slowly letting a hand trail along your side to the skin just above your stomach where the tighter layer of the dress kept your skirt in place, pulling you back into him as his other grabbed at your hip. “If I sit you two by the fire this way, you’ll warm up faster.”

The sight now had been the in between. A little pack of four you were, Ghost half curled up on top of the fur before the fire, giving a cozy space for Jon to lean back against. Pulling you with him, Jon carefully lay you back against his chest enough that kept you comfortable but was also an angle safe for the baby to feed at. Jons arm was wrapped around your front, resting just under where you held at the baby, his other grasping tenderly at your waist against him. The skirt of your dress outstretched across half the fur as if taunting with what Jon had not gotten off in time.

But none of you were impatient for this part. Your eyes trained without faltering on little Eddard, as the thought came to you once more. The strange fact that some women chose not to feed their infants from their own breast, not out of necessity, but of choice. Of inconvenience. This was such a small, simple task shared between mother and son that you struggled to come up with any reason to willingly surpass this to another for your own sake. While Eddard was still so small and new to the world, feeding him of your own milk was the most natural way to bond you both together so quickly.

Muttering into your neck behind you, Jon felt almost as warm as the heat from the fire he had sat you all in front of. “He’s still on the small side.”

Your smile was gentle, still not having looked away from the baby. Your voice if possible was quieter then Jons merely muttering for your sake only, but knowing and trusting he’d always hear you. “Maester Wolkan says that he’s growing at an appropriate speed. By the time a full moon passes, he should be the size he is supposed to be. That some infants born at full term are still sometimes on the smaller side until they start walking.”

Adjusting his position, Jon leaned the side of his head against yours as his own eyes shined bright watching you both. An affection dripped from his words but lacked the rawness of need which motivated him as he had led you in here in the first place. “Of course he’s small, he came from you.” You didn’t need to see him to know he was smirking to the point it would break out into a grin as you smiled almost in audacity. Protesting that you didn’t stay that small forever, but Jon let the hand on your waist shift you indescribably closer into his chest with a breathy chuckle deep in his chest. “You’re still smaller then me.”

Now inside, you could feel the edges of Jons curls loose as they danced across the side of your head and brushed just at the edge of your cheek as you turned somewhat to lean into his touch. “Something you’ve never let me forget.”

Jon muttered in a passing tease of his own attempting to come off as dry and even. “I’ve never let Arya forget it either.” As if all he needed was to hear yours, the moment a gentle laugh left your lips did a much warmer one husk in your ear from Jon. Almost envious of the fire before you, knowing it was graced with the sight of the smile which always accompanied Jons laughter, a sight more handsome then you knew how to handle.

When he broached it, you had not at all expected his question. “What did Littlefinger mean this morning? When he said something about you and your children, what did he mean?”

As if on a sign hanging from his chest you could read the protective level of distrust radiating from Jon even here and now. Only you rested comfortably against him, shifting subtly the hand on your sons back down to cover his. Jon only raised yours off, placing it right back against the baby as he then covered your own hand with his larger one far more successfully. Some days neither of you were even aware of the smallest of gestures shared between you and Jon, it was merely things you did from each of your souls towards one another.

Your voice however, was not low to be quiet, but as if distant in memory desperate not to fall within it like a trapping vortex in the sea waters. “I told you he had tried to threaten me into being quiet, did I not?” Jon only nodded, no doubt his jaw as tense as you felt his muscles turning, but you continued with the opposite hoping it would soothe him. “I had turned on him. Saying to just tell me what it was he wanted to say in truth instead of trying to use you to scare me. And his response was...I don’t know, I didn’t think on it for a long while. He parted ways telling me he hoped I could return to Robb soon, wishing me a long life with many children. He said that I suited summer there far less then I suited snow.”

Barley a grunt let Jon, having no problem connecting the very mocking dots Littlefinger had toyed with you about. The tenseness still felt behind you as did his rasp strain more in a force to remain on the side of quiet. “You lost everything that night, and finally when you have the chance to share even a little bit of that with me, he mocks you for what you still lost.” The frustration on his face must have been so distinct were you facing him. It was almost as if he was convincing himself. “I told you, you belong to me. We belong together, I’m not giving you up to anyone ever again.”

Your laugh almost was enough to ease even just the tightness he held your waist with. “You and I have a son together. A man and wife can’t quite get more bonded together then sharing that.” Jon only watched you and little Eddard for a while again. Whatever was stewing in his head, he let stay there until it boiled to the proper point. Simply choosing to watch the mother of his child feeding his son from your breast, as if his was which the old gods had always been fating Jon towards.

The routine was without words. Getting his fill, you would then raise up Eddard to the opposite shoulder Jon was resting by as he pulled your hair off of that over to him. Almost without failure, the moment the tiniest burp would come from the little one, would he start to drift off. His head dropping down to your neck and shoulder as his eyes begun to drift closed.

Jon always took over from there once night came, the insistent claim that you did enough all day for the baby, the least he could do was not force you to jump up at any instance for him if he could bring him to you or back to bed. Each night thus far, Jon would shush you gently to stay in bed while he went and tended to Eddard, only ever bothering you if he needed feeding, to which he’d prop you up in the exact position you two had been in minutes ago, but upright in his bed.

That time barley managing to stand, you almost on instinct lifted up the loose fabric of your dress to cover your chest with a modesty as Jon carefully put the baby into his bed, up against the wall merely a few feet beside and down from where you both would rest. Neither of you had been anywhere near ready at the idea of giving the baby a room he would be alone in.

Whispering low words to his son as he drifted off, Jon pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead before turning back to you, still standing at the fur in front of his fire but now holding your dress more up to hide you away. Jon however, only dropped his head with a smirking laugh as he approached. Raising his head up along with his eyebrows to you, grasping your hips within reach with something incredibly playful draping across his grey eyes. His voice low and rasping but filled with as much tease. “I think darling, you should know by now that I’m only going to peel the rest of this off far before you could properly put it back on.”

Jons hand almost childishly tugged at the skirt of your dress, but your hands did not drop. Your eyes did along with your tone in as much of a lecturing tease as he mocked you in playfulness. “Am I allowed to stay partially dressed as I take your things off from the day, or do you demand I do so with nothing else on?”

Jon only tugged at the material harder that time, not blinking nor shifting his expression at all while his eyes once more darkened. The yank was enough that it slipped from your grasp and exposed your breasts to him in a bounce. A small gasp left you, grabbing onto the skirt in front of you which he hadn’t pulled down enough yet, something bright in your eyes matched his but was painted over far more embarrassed. “Jon..”

Leaning in, he only nudged your nose with his. “Let me see you. All of you.”

His tug that time was more experimental, a question as he did one then another before finally moving his hands both to properly undo the laces keeping it against your person. Brows narrowed in focus as he kept his eyes trained on ensuring he took it all off of you respectfully. Sitting it aside from where you stood as he had knelt down by you. Looking up, Jons eyes were bright and asking of a permission you both knew he did not need to stop for.

But regardless he did, and the slight bite at your bottom lip with a nod was good enough for thus far. Pressing a kiss to your calf, up to your inner thigh, and trailing a path from your knee up to the warmth between your legs. Surpassing your core, Jon skipped up to your stomach. His lips refusing to miss a single scrap of skin which consisted of the scar across your womb before continuing his path up. Between your breasts but considerate of your sensitivity and pressing but a small kiss to what would be your cleavage before back up your neck. Rising up to his full height as he did so, his taller and stronger stature mixing with how he still was almost completely dressed, made your smaller bare frame feel exposed and vulnerable, a shaking exhale at how his lips against your neck only grew as purposeful as they were needing and sloppy.

Hands tighter and tighter at your waist, Jons breathing picked up with the high pitched breathlessness of yours. Rasping deeply, hardly able to convince himself to part from any way his hands and lips could touch you. “Are you still alright with this?” Your nod was lightheaded, but his voice calling your name was firm. Pulling you by a grip on your chin to look up to his stern expression. “You’re not still too sore? You don’t have to be ready so soon, it’s alright.”

Your own hands reaching up to flat against his chest you nodded along with a breathless voice which was tinged in the need your heart too raced with. “I’m not sore, I’m fine, I promise. Please..”

Leaning further into his front, Jon held you tight at your hips. Grey eyes on green until he found nothing but a complete truth in them, nodding down to himself with a mumble against your lips. Hand still pulling your chin up to his him, “Let’s get this off first.” Your nod was eager and his kiss too short lived, but he allowed you to work.

Bare in front of him, you took no rush in undressing Jon. Each layer taken off as the heat from him and the fire behind almost made you feel as if you could start to sweat, but never did you consider wanting anything else. Boots off and set aside, part of you always felt as if you should be unlacing his breeches in some kind of show when you took them off in such intimate moments, but you always just felt those nerves.

It never was anything but slowly pulling them down and kneeling in front of him with a hitch in your lungs, Jon had clearly been hard for some time. His cock full and thick, the colour deep as much blood was needed to harden a size and length such as his, but Jon only grabbed your hands. Pulling you up to your feet before cupping your cheeks.

Nose nudging against his, your hands wound up around the back of his neck, grasping at his curls before he nudged you to the right angle to kiss you. Rough and urgent as he held at the back of your neck to keep you there, soft lips guiding yours, deepening each second and growing rougher with that. You could feel his cock against your front but you dared not disobey him by doing what you wanted now, only being allowed his kiss so far.

Deepening his kiss each time as if to tease you with more until he chose the fairer path for you, licking at your lips instead of demanding you. Only gliding his tongue into your mouth once you had graced him permission, with your nerves hesitantly brushing your tongue with his. Jon though could guide your kiss with him for all of eternity, he knew just how much to give you, to explore and taste as he pleased before it became too much. Shying away as he ran the hand at your neck along your hair, back to rough and urgent but not such overpowering kisses.

But your arms wound around his shoulders and back of his neck even more, letting your hand entangle in his curls grasping with your own need to ground yourself against his touch making you dizzy. Leaning more over you, your back arching into his front, Jon let his hands run down your sides.

Hands smoothing along your waist and hip only for one to detour. Nibbling at your bottom lip, Jon only teased at letting his tongue brush against yours in your mouth at the same instance one rough hand slid along your ass. Grasping at one cheek, not tightly nor meanly but enough you cried a whining need into his kiss before his other hand joined. Large, calloused hands grasping and kneading at your ass as you held his hair tightly. Jons kiss growing more and more urgent, licking and deepening against you as he pushed your hips up against his cock, hands still grasping over and over at your ass.

Letting one hand overtake the other, Jon simply pushed your front to press up against his throbbing cock, fingers toying with pressing harder into the skin. Pulling from your lips with a force, the saliva not even snapping between you as you looked up to his hooded, black eyes with wider innocent ones. “Jon..are..did you want..”

Dragging his eyes all the way down your body and back, his jaw clenched as he once more grasped roughly what he could hold, which in his large hands was much. But he shook his head as he growled out, “No. Spread your legs, I need to taste you.” But as you asked about the bed, almost drifting towards it, Jon tugged you back with a feircly disapproving glare. “Now, darling.”

With a nervousness, Jon watched as you moved your legs apart better for him, only looking to watch your throat move with a swallow when he lowly ordered you to stand wider. Nudging your chin up to meet his eyes, Jon captured your lips in a chaste kiss before kneeling down. Resting his forehead against your mound, Jon groaned. “Seven hells..it’s not fair, I can’t go this long without..”

Cutting himself off, Jon pushed your inner thighs as far as he could from there before moving his mouth onto you. Tongue brushing up along your clit, he gripped your hips from moving but your hand tugged at his hair in need, a growl vibrating again you. Sparing you little time, from one pattern to another Jon lapped at your clit in one moment almost like a kitten in teasing, to the next his tongue fat against it before sucking at the bundle of nerves with a growl. His hands on your hips were tight enough bruises no doubt were forming.

His facial hair was thick, scratching at the skin of your inner thighs as he sucked and let his teeth scrape just against your slit before letting his tongue sloppily taste over it as it a salve to soothe you, but only bringing forth more pleasure. Twisting inside your core, you burned white hot with a beg of his name and your hand almost pulling at his curls. Your eyes closed, too overwhelmed and too shy to watch him but had you opened then, as you pulled at his hair Jons eyes snapped open. Never stopping tasting you as he glared up at your pleading figure in nothing but pleasure his mouth and tongue gifted you.

Eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head, Jon grunted as he pulled you more into him, sucking harshly to the point your gasp was sharp. Hurling you to the edge, Jon sucked and licked at your clit as if not a single other thing mattered. Drawing closer and closer your hand didn’t even mean to pull at his hair but it did, and each time he grew more greedy.

Licking down to your core and back up to your clit, no longer staying in once place Jon finally allowed himself to dive deep into your cunt. The soaking taste nothing but a pure addiction to him, he refused to let you even slightly drift away. His tongue running along your walls as he drank from you with a terrifying need. A thirst which he refused to entertain a solution not found between your legs.

Closer and closer to the edge Jon drew you, his own grunting growls vibrating against you as the coil twisted at each brush of his tongue from your clit back inside of you as if feasting only for himself. Begging at his name, hotter and hotter did you burn before it burst. Only, it didn’t.

Tearing himself from your cunt, Jon rose up before you could even think to beg him to let you cum, Jon bit roughly at your lip, sliding his tongue inside to make you taste yourself against his tongue with fervour. Turning you by a grip at your hips to the bed, Jon tore from your lips again as the saliva snapped between you. Guiding you to lay flat against the fur for him, Jon pulled your legs both wide open as he kneeled in front of you on the bed.

His eyes were dark, an anger only you could see was truly need as he stared intently at your soaking cunt. Rasping deeply he dragged his eyes up to meet yours, it seemed like he hadn’t noticed the growling manner it hissed out. “I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me again.”

“Jon?”

Your gentle and meek tone ignored, Jon somehow yanking you wider for him as one hand pressed down against your sternum keeping you flat against the bed contrasted to your feet spread obscenely wide at his behest. “The next man who even thinks about you this way, I’ll kill him.” Something far gone was Jon, replacing with the feral teeth baring anger of a wolf before you. Unable to come down even when your hands reached up to try and run along his waist. “I should drag you out there right now, take you apart until you’re crying.” The hands on your thighs were nearing a painful tightness but you still found yourself begging for more. “Fill you until I’m spilling out of you, then cover you with whats left.”

Biting your lip, your chest heaved as you knew he was watching your walls clench around nothing, desperately soaking wet wishing he would come to you already, but the wolf was not one to ever be told what to do. “If the only thing I do for the rest of our lives is fuck you, no man will be happier then me. None of them have a clue what you’ve given me, none of them understand. You-”

Cutting himself off, Jons head dropped for only a moment before he shifted. Gripping the thick base of his cock, Jon used his other hand to grasp at your jaw, forcing you to look up at him, Jon did not finish what he was to say. Looking nowhere but your eyes with his pitch black ones as he slid roughly inside of you. He was not gentle the way he was he other night.

One hand holding you open for him, Jon begun to pound his cock with a roughness that his skin slapped against yours right away. Your head wanted to throw itself back, but couldn’t. Forced to look Jon in the eye, his hips only moved harder and faster. Sliding as deep as you could take him, and barley managing to slide halfway out before roughly pushing his cock back just as soakingly deep. Your hands barley reaching his waist to grasp at, your voice weak and nothing but a gentle, almost innocent plead. “Jon, please, kiss me?”

But he shook his head, breaking eye contact to drop down and watch himself. His cock sliding deep in and out of you, rougher and rougher he trusts got the more he watched. Letting your jaw go to hold at your thighs, forcing them back wide open and grunting as he pounded harder and harder. A screaming in your veins at the shock of pain followed by a humiliating sound of how wet you were. In and out, he found a rhythm, but he was so fast inside of you.

Your breasts almost on a lewd display each rough force, the sound deafening of his hips slapping into yours. Jons grip nearly had your lower half up on display, wide and unable to move unless at his control as he fucked you, over and over without a care for how it looked. Again his voice growled and not a man, but a wolf looked and spoke down at you. “You’re mine, darling. You always were.” Nearly dropping his head back down in a long groan, Jon lost some of his speed as he thrusted rougher and slower into you each time. Your insides burning, set alight and screaming for him as you were soaking wet around his cock. The wolf only continued on with a deep possessiveness. “From the moment I saw you across the yard, you belonged to me.”

A hand reaching up to almost caress the side of your face, your skin and hair now undeniably soaking in sweat as the coil within you twisted and burned so tightly you felt not sane within your own mind, only consumed with Jon as it truly under a curse or spell. It was innocent in contrast to the rough manner which his cock would thrust roughly inside of you, the sound of your wetness each time he slid deep as if to seduce him all on its own. But your voice was light and you tried to grasp at his waist and forearm with wide eyes, “Jon, please, gods..I love you..”

The man within Jon and the wolf were at war, his heart tearing inside his chest to lean down and kiss you, the other only grew more shamelessly possessive and Jon had not a clue where this terrifying intensity had even come from. “I know, darling. I know you do, fuck you were born to. You were born for me, my cock, all of it. I’ve always loved you, and I don’t want a single man out there thinking he’ll ever come close to the way I love you.”

Your head flew back, eyes struggling to stay open as your orgasm begged you to be let out but you refused to even consider asking Jon for it. You’d accept him never give you another if thats what he wanted, you didn’t care, you trusted however his cock wanted to use your body. Finally letting go of your legs, Jon leaned down. One hand shifting to grasp behind your head tightly in your hair.

Slap after slap, pound after pound did Jon sink so deeply, so roughly inside of you as he bit at your lips, his tongue making the same path as if to refuse parts of him to not be inside you. But he had one more thought, one which Jon had not wanted to jump into but it was the wolf sinking his cock in and out of you.

His other free hand slid between the furs and your ass, pulling away with a bite to your bottom lip Jon hissed your name. Eyes fluttering open, the moment your met his black ones did he slide one thick finger deep into your ass. Back arching up as you cried his name into the night, Jon met his cocks pace as let a finger, knuckle deep in your ass sink in and out just as greedily. Pleas of please and his name, Jons head dropped back to a kiss, forcing your head up to his with his only other hand to make sure you could not escape his kiss.

Hurling you closer and closer to your orgasm did you cry out, and as if he could match you perfectly, the moment your soaking walls clenched tightly around his cock did Jon growl your name into your lips. His kiss rough and biting and deep as your hands reached up to grasp at his back and shoulders.

Nails digging into his back, clawing down without even realizing as you so desperately needing something as his kiss refused to let you even moan out for him. The stinging sensation so striking in Jons blood he throbbed inside of you. Pounding once, twice, almost managing seven more incredibly cruel thrusts before he sunk deep as he could.

Your orgasm almost pulled Jon deeper as he came, his thick seed hot and spilling deep inside of you but his hips did not still. Almost thrusting incredibly shallow to ensure every single drop would stay inside you where his seed belonged. Pulling suddenly from your ass you cried out, but as your orgasm waved over you, you realized how lightheaded you felt.

Not yet coming down, Jon tore from your lips. His eyes suddenly wider as he looked down to you, a rasp more concerned on his voice as he prompted your name. But your hands wound into his hair reaching up to press your lips again to his, the feeling as if blackening your vision as Jons seed was so thick and hot inside of you, almost making your orgasm go on and on. Vaugely aware that Jon pulled from your kiss again, he ran his hand along your sweating hair, again murmuring your name in a gentle concern, but without much more knowing, did you feel yourself fade.

Hardly even coming down from your end, and Jons cock not even yet truly done spurting thick amounts of his seed inside of you, but you felt like he held you above the clouds. Just Jon, and a floating underneath you as you clutched at his warm self before slipping into the darkness.

It was strange, still drastically in need of coming down to the ground, but Jon had noticed you quickly slipping away before passing out before you had even stopped cumming so beautifully around his cock. Heart pounding and racing, he looked down at you while he propped himself up partially with one hand, his other running along your neck almost as if to ensure your pulse was fine.

But you were, only passed out as you both came together. No faster then that had sent the wolf within Jon away and brought the man back. Almost cradling you as he hovered over you, Jons breathing was heaving desperately. Both your bodies glistening with sweat and dampening your hair, but otherwise you seemed fine. Hands almost growing tight if he tried to pull away.

Unwilling to leave your still soaked, warm cunt, Jon turned you in his arms. Laying more on your sides, Jon pulled you close. That had never happened before, he had never seen you drift so far you passed out before either of you had even came together and finished once.

Laying there in the night, the fire crackling beside the bed as Jon stayed deep, and half hard inside of you, you tucked into his chest and Jons face tucked into your hair, his arms wrapped firmly around you, and nothing but the peace of your son together still slumbering behind you both.

He had not a clue what came over him that night, and still, part of it scared him. He had been so blatantly possessive of you in an unhinged manner, a feral sort of way. It was the side of him which had truly wanted to tie you to his bed and never again let you leave it, keep you spread open for him to fuck over and over at every perfect time, keep you here for him alone and refuse to share you ever again.

It was incredibly intense, and he had gone so much more rough then he knew he should’ve, but yet you seemed incredibly happy snuggling further into his front as you slept. Jon knew as he laid there, there were a few places such an intenseness could’ve come from, but one of those options scared him more then the other.

He was a Stark, the White Wolf, wolves were protective of their mates. Thats all this was, Jon told himself. Nothing else. He loved you with everything his soul and heart had, that much was true, but an obsession had taken over Jon that night inside of you, and Jon for the first real time lay there trying to fall asleep, cock still sunk deeply into your cunt. It was not the first time a Stark had ever asked himself that question, but it was the first time, Jon had ever asked the question about himself. The worrying wonder of just how much of his father did he inherit.

The question Jon fell asleep with repeating in his head, how much of Rhaegar Targaryean was actually running through his veins.

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #jon snow #robb stark #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #jon snow imagine #robb stark imagine #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #game of thrones imagine #asoiaf imagine

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bunnysbrainrot · 1 year ago

Text

If You Change Your Mind

Relationship: Dean Winchester x Reader, friends(?) to lovers

Summary: For about half a year, you’ve hunted alongside the Winchester brothers to find a purpose in their ‘family business’. But, it seems that Dean’s harsh attitude is driving the two of you away from one another. What happens when that tension breaks, and his truth is revealed?

A/N: I plan on writing more for this, so expect more to come!

No content warnings, just some tension!

Though you had been working alongside Sam and Dean for a few months, practicing your skills as a hunter, your relationship with the older brother hadn’t been the easiest. Dean had a talent of being condescending even without words, which was discouraging to your hard work. Sure, you hadn’t been a hunter nearly as long as Dean, but hell, you were trying your damn hardest to improve. Sam, when you had brought it up, explained that Dean had a ‘hard time opening up’, which you knew better than anyone, at this point.

In the beginning of your working with the brothers, you had taken a liking to Dean, to put it lightly. His rugged demeanor and nonchalant attitude drew you in. He knew how to have a good time, had an amazing sense of humor, and could flirt with anyone as easy as breathing. All except for with you. Somehow, when Dean was with you, he couldn’t find the right way to approach… anything.

That is, until a hunt last week. It was a simple salt and burn, out in the countryside of Georgia. Dean had been distant, only speaking when necessary, but growing frustrated with you for futile reasons. Eventually, the two of you had a full blown argument: you pleaded with him to be more patient, that he was being too harsh on you as a new hunter. For Dean, he was rambling on how much of a ‘dumbass’ you were, getting too risky on hunts.

After that argument, you kept quiet. Ever since then, Dean barely looked at you, let alone said any words your way. Eventually you realized the toll it had taken on you, leaving you feeling out of place and drained. If it weren’t for Sam encouraging you to confront Dean, you considered planning on heading back home, if it could even be considered that anymore.

Taking a deep breath as you walked into the bunker, you spotted Dean seated at a long mahogany table, legs kicked up as he scrolled through his phone. While you were out you picked up food, burgers to be more specific, unintentionally Dean’s favorite. You had picked up orders for both brothers, since you didn’t go out on your own errands too often. Approaching the table, heart racing slightly wilder than before, you placed the paper bag near Dean, took out your own food, and began to walk off. A silent olive branch, the Dean Winchester way.

His voice rang throughout the room as you walked off, stopping you in your tracks.

“So, what? You’re just gonna ignore me, is that it?”

You turned to face him now, heart in your throat at the confrontation. Dean didn’t make this shit easy by any means. Confrontation was already difficult as is, and the eldest Winchester son challenged that further.

“I think you made it pretty clear you didn’t want to be talked to, Dean,” your voice was shaky despite the firm sentence you chose. Dean narrowed his eyes at you before taking a swig of his beer.

“Just been going through a lot lately, I guess,” his tone was terse, like there was a dam of emotions waiting to burst open. “Yeah, I’ve been a little distant, but you gotta stop thinking it’s all about you.”

Something in you snapped at that, glaring at Dean as you replied, “That’s bullshit and you know it. Everything changed after that shapeshifter hunt a few weeks ago. You’ve barely said a word to me. And that case out in Georgia only made it worse.”

Dean looked at you for a moment, studying your expression and sudden reaction to his remarks. He nodded as he listened, but you knew it wasn’t him taking it in. It was the specific Dean nod that meant he was ready to unleash how he felt. The pursed lips said it all.

“Fine. Maybe I have been ignoring you. There’s some truth there, but trust me. You have no idea why I’m doing this. You probably think it’s because I’m mad at you for screwing up, but it’s more than that.”

“Then, what is it?” You demanded, eyebrows raised as you awaited a better explanation.

“It’s for a reason.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Honestly? I don’t want to see you get ganked just because you’re a dumbass on a hunt.”

That remained to be his only response for a long pause. “I think you don’t care about your life as much as others do, so yeah… that pisses me off a bit.”

“Pisses you off so much that you treat me like I don’t exist,” you muttered, but he had already caught your retort. Dean’s jade green eyes darted to you. But, for a good while, he never gave a reply.

“If this is the way you show you’re concerned,” you began, “then maybe it would be good to learn some ‘people skills’.”

He sucked his teeth, looking away with a smug smile. Your eyebrows knitted together in frustration at him. Dean stood from his spot, walking over to you. You always forgot just how impressive he was until he stood toe to toe with you - his muscular physique and sharp features had always made you nervous, and the sensation they sent through you now was beyond confusing. It was hard to tell if your stomach was turning over itself or if your senses were distorted from this man staring you down.

“Oh I know people, don’t get me wrong,” he started, his voice lowered, “and believe me, I know more about you than you think.”

Your eyebrows arched in confusion at this, mulling over in your head at what the hell he could’ve meant.

“What…?”

“Oh, you were easy to understand. Practically see through. I knew what you wanted from the start,” Dean seemed to be speaking more clearly now, that hidden kernel of resentment now popping open.

“Listen, I’m just telling you this now, this whole ‘lovey dovey’ crap doesn’t mix well with hunters. You wanna bang? Better find someone on the road. Now for me… that’s when shit gets complicated.”

You could hardly wrap your head around what he was saying, noticing that he was far more than two steps ahead of you in this. Your throat was taught, straining to respond to him.

“Nothing is getting in the way, Dean. You’re seeing this all wrong.”

He shook his head, prodding his pointer finger into your collarbone. “You know that’s bullshit. And I’m telling you… that I know how complicated this would get if things went any further.”

It’s not like you had high hopes to begin with, but now it shattered completely. You looked to the ground, unable to form what you wanted to say.

“How do you know that?”

Dean replied, “Well, item number one… I’m pretty sure you just confirmed your feelings, but item number two, it just would.”

His tone had shifted to something slightly playful, but you didn’t break into a smile just yet. Your head spun as you thought about where this would lead to.

“But what if it doesn’t? What if it works out?”

The hunter looming over you stayed silent, eyes scanning the floor between you. His voice when he spoke next was hushed, almost a whisper.

“Because it would make losing you worse.”

For a split second, time seemed to stop.

“What do you mean?”

He looked at you once more, intently into your eyes as he explained, “In this line of work, getting close to someone is a damn luxury. That’s something I can’t have. Not in a million years, and definitely not with you.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but he cut you off.

“I’ve been a dick, I get it. And listen… I know you didn’t deserve that, and that’s completely on me. And it didn’t help that I didn’t tell you before.”

The only thing the two of you could hear was the faint buzzing of the lamp on the table.

“I don’t trust myself enough for it. If we’re too close, that makes us vulnerable, and the last thing any of us need is a new weak spot for those evil sons of bitches out there.”

Now with a heavier heart, you looked at Dean, unable to look anywhere but his eyes. A sad light had taken over his expression, more emotion than you had seen from him in weeks.

“I,” he said in a hushed tone, “listen…. I want this. You. If I knew that this could work, and everything would be okay, I would take that chance in a heartbeat.”

Something mixed inside of you, a strange muddled feeling of heartbreak and hope. Where did this leave them? What happens now?

“But,” your head snapped up at attention, “it’s not like I don’t wanna try. I’m just… shit, I’m scared to death of what could happen.”

A feeling in your gut tugged at his words, the weight of the truth in them. Dean let out a long breath, seeming to gain his composure. You noticed how his demeanor changed while he stood in front of you - from one of a fierce man, to one so vulnerable.

“Dean,” you started, hoping to give him some sort of comfort. You could only imagine how difficult this was for him, but there wasn’t the faintest idea of what to say to make this situation better.

“Well, I guess we know how we feel about each other. At least, a little.” There was a sense of hope in those words, like the optimism of your tone would change this discouraging outcome. “And, if you ever change your mind, about this whole ‘us’ thing not working, I think you’ll know where to find me.”

The words hung in the air.

“You would know it better than anyone, Dean.”

————

Chapter 2 is up! Thank you for reading!

#dean winchester #dean x reader #spn #supernatural #supernatural smut #supernatural fanfiction #friends to lovers

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lynnlovesthestars · 1 year ago

Text

Blood.

Pairing: Astarion x gn!reader

Genre and warnings: hurt and comfort, allusions to sexual assault, past trauma, mention of torture, emptiness, lots of feelings ngl.

Gentle reminder that what is going to be under the cut, is a sensitive topic, we can't know who is going to scroll past it or read, so please be mindful about those around you. Myself I am a survivor and though I'm confident enough to write about it, it doesn't mean everyone is, so once more, please excercise kindness towards others.<3

Part One- scars.

Astarion cradled your body to his chest, he rested against the headboard while keeping you in his lap, his cold fingers traced shapes as he helped you calm your breath.

Even with the bandages wrapped around your body, the raw wounds ached no matter what you laid on, and if you had the chance of laying on a bed and in pain, or staying cradled in Astarion's arms still in pain, you always picked the second.

There was something about his touch that was able to soothe you. Particularly now, when you couldn't find the strength to do anything, his arms around your middle reminded you were in a safe corner, he wouldn't hurt you.

"My love" he whispered as he placed a soft kiss on top of your head. “You need to eat something, and take a bath” He hoped you’d turn your head, even just say yes or no, but you couldn’t, you just let everything happen. It’s been three days since you last had something similar to a meal, and Astarion wasn’t fond of the idea, especially since you were also dangerously close to being void of all your blood.

He didn’t want to force you to look at him when his fingers gently turned your face towards his, he knew what it felt like, so he didn’t force you to open your eyes, he simply rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed as well, as he was just caressing your cheek.

“I wish I could just take away the pain, my love” He kept his voice low, barely a whisper, words no one else had to hear but you. “I know it hurts, but you need at least a few bites of anything, even just a piece of bread.” His other arm was still wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him. He was never going to let you go, he would fight for the both of you if you allowed him to. If he had the chance to take the burden of your pain as well, he wouldn’t hesitate. He would carry it all, if it meant he could see your smile or hear your laugh, if it meant he could lay next to you as you slept a night without nightmares, if it meant you would scold him because carrying your pain was an idiotic idea, cause it would break you to see him in pain, the same way it’s breaking him to see you like this. Despite this he knew that you’d carry his pain if it meant he was okay, and he would scold you the same way.

He stayed silent as you worked slowly on his words, he knew well how hard it must be to even get your brain to move those cogs slowly, how hollow you could feel, how dirty your soul would feel. He just wanted to be there for you, help you, like he wished someone did with him.

Oh how he wished someone just held him close the first night he spent in solitary confinement, or when he’d have to endure months of starvation. The first time he was compelled to lure someone, he just wanted to scrape his skin off. What Cazador did to you was just like being stabbed over and over again while taking a bath in salt, but he had to be strong for the two of you. He promised to himself that one day this hollow feeling in your chests would just be a distant memory.

For a moment he was absorbed by his thoughts, he almost didn’t feel you squeezing ever so slightly his arm, like he guided you to do the first night, when he realized you were too hurt to speak anything but the pleas of in your nightmares.

“I’ll bring you some fruit then, my love” He placed another delicate kiss on your cheek before laying you on the bed, under the thick duvet. He quickly made his way towards the chest, gathering a plate and filling it with some fruit Halsin gathered in the woods outside Baldur’s Gate. He usually would eat the fruit as it was, uncaring if it had to be rinsed, but he put so much care in this plate, asking Shadowheart to purify the fruit before giving it to you, and cast some sort of heal on it as well, since you didn’t allow anyone but him to touch you.

Once more you let everything happen around you, Astarion would help you up and slowly feed you a small portion of fruit while praising. Letting you know how good you were doing, and how proud he was of you.

He would do it so gently that the rest of the group was hardly able to keep his eyes off him, as he would try and coax a smile from you, while slowly he helped you eat all the food.

His tone was once more low just for you to listen. “Do you feel like you can walk a little?” He asked. At the absence of you squeeze, he took your hand in his. “Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?” You could see it in his eyes, how he was pleading with you to trust him on this, to let him care for you. You trusted him with your life.

“Please, yes” You shakily let out as you lowered your eyes to your hands. You didn’t notice his reaction, since he just jumped up, but he could feel his eyes instantly getting glassy, and the knot in his throat slowly unclenching at the sound of your voice. It was days that the only thing that fell from your lips were teary no’s and heart shattering screams.

He was so afraid of hurting you, of pressing too hard on the wounds, unaware how you actually needed it, no matter the pain it would cause in those few days you learnt how to dissociate from reality, to ignore the stinging sensation or the phantom touch haunting you through the day. Of course you could tell the difference between Astarion’s fingers just mindlessly tracing your skin, and the feeling of nails dipping in your hips, at your legs or at your arms, fighting to pull you one way or another, while also trying to keep you from moving. You wanted to erase those memories, forget how it made you want to retch. You wanted to beg Astarion to erase it himself, with his touch, with his lips, with his everything, but words were too heavy on your tongue, just like moving your limbs.

Astarion was lost in his thoughts as he read the scroll Gale wrote for him, “how to warm up water, quickly. (But make sure it’s not too quick or you are gonna boil your skin, idiot)”. He gave it to him months prior when Astarion wanted to take a warm bath but there was no bath house in kilometers.

“My love..” He kneeled in front of you, taking your hand in his hand and placing a kiss on your knuckles. “Can you undress and get in the water or do you need help?” You wanted to tell him he could have raised his voice, you were alone and no one was going to eavesdrop, but you could tell he didn’t want to startle when you were zoning out or lost in thoughts. “If you need it, just tell me and I’ll call Jaheira or Karlach, so they can help you get in the water.” He over explained himself as he was just so careful to not make you uncomfortable.

“No, you” Your free hand rested on his. “Please stay”

He didn’t reply at that, his cheeks taking just the softest shade of pink, as he got up. He kissed your forehead again as he helped you up on your feet.

He waited until you nodded at him, letting him know you were okay with him.

He was very careful to pull up the shirt, trying to not pull too hard in case your exposed wounds would have stuck to the fabric.

It reminded him when he had to dress again after Cazador marked his skin, how unavoidable it was for his back to make contact with his button up, and how painful it was to get undressed. He was glad, though, that a good bit of your skin was covered in bandages. When he brought you back, and Shadowheart had to wrap you up, she didn’t have enough bandages to cover all your open wounds, so she had to cover the deepest ones, the one that were oozing more blood than the others, while she could only heal you a little bit at a time through that night.

Astarion was quick to unwrap the bandages, his face scrunched in a worried look, as you hissed at the feeling of your skin being fred, like it was about to peel off from your muscles, just like Cazador pulled it from your chest.

Astarion tried his best to ignore the bubbling anger in his chest at the first sight of the bloodied lines, your whole body marked by that bastard, almost as a taunting reminder that in a way, he won. Cazador broke you, he took you in front of him, he used you until you were just hollow, he stole the smile from your lips, and there was no way to hide the reminder. Whenever you’d look at yourself in the mirror, or you’d look at your fingers, you’d see Cazador engraved in your skin, and he hated it. He hated that he was able to haunt him even after his death.

Astarion slowly guided you towards the water, helping you in until you were laying in the tub, and pressing another kiss on your cheek.

He was ready to step back, allowing you to let your body go in the warm water, when you didn’t let go of his hand. “No, please, don’t leave” You pleaded, tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, as you felt the haunting hand of fear on your shoulder.

“I’m gonna stay here with you my love” He pointed towards the bench where you were sitting moments ago, you could have sworn that it was too far in that moment. You wanted, no you needed him close, to cling to him like he was going to disappear at any moment, to feel his skin against yours, to remind you he was real and not just a fragment of your delusional mind trying to cope with the nightmares.

“No, please, here” If you had the strength to pull him stronger, you would have dragged him in the water yourself, but you were holding that hand with all you had already.

It took him a moment to grasp at what you meant, as his confused scowl quickly eased in a sad smile. He lowered, so you didn’t have to strain your neck to look up, as his eyes searched for something in yours. “Are you sure, my love?” He asked in a breath, as he studied your face, your movements, how your chest was raising and lowering rhythmically, to catch even the smallest hint of hesitation, but when you nodded at him unhesitant, he smiled back at you.

He turned towards the shelf nearby, plucking several bottles from there that he placed next to the ones you recognized as yours.

He looked for your eyes as he took his time untying his shirt, waiting for your nod before quickly peeling off all his clothes and making his way in the warm, soothing water.

For a moment you just both laid there, your hands intertwined as you allowed the water to caress your skin.

“How did you do it?” You asked, sucking in a breath, you needed some reassurance, any kind. “How did you get over it?” He could feel your hand stiffen along your body.

“I guess I didn’t until recently” He admitted, for the first time he avoided your eyes. “After 10 years of confinement, you stop trying to fight it I guess” His voice cracked at the last word, his hand unclasped from yours as he rested his back against the edge of the tub, measuring his words before letting them out.

“After I was let out again, expected to comply without putting up a fight, it became a matter of survival. It was either that, or starvation, torture and pain” He was mustering all his strength to resist the tears.

“Though the feelings never..” He hesitated for a moment. “They never left, for 200 years. Intimacy felt tainted” You recall him mentioning it, when you were in Moonrise.

“Then you came around, and bedding you didn’t work” He could feel that disgust against himself rise just at the thought of using it against you. Or rather, at his advantage. “You were supporting me, you wanted to know my opinion about anything, you held me when no one would have done it” He tilted his head back, his hair slowly starting to lose its form as the steam relaxed the curls. “I don’t know what it is about the way your touch feels, the idea of you being so close to me, so vulnerable, for the first time in my life, it feels genuine. It feels real. It’s not coated with lies.” He breathed out for a moment, looking for your eyes, making sure he didn’t say too much and scared you away. “You happened and it’s like your touch is healing me” He brushed his index finger on your cheek, taking in your teary eyes, the way you were tilting ever so slightly your head as you listened to him, and the way you were resting your hands together on your leg, fidgeting with them.

“I will always have nightmares, and I hate that you will as well,” He admitted. “But now that I know that I have you by my side..” His finger gently traced the line of your shoulder, pushing them down so you could allow them to relax. “I know I can endure them, cause when I’ll wake up crying, and you’ll be laying next to me, I know I will be at home”. It was like he took his heart straight out of his chest, and laid it bare there for you. He wanted to let you know how much he cared for you, and how much you meant to him. He would be there, step by step.

“‘Starion” Your voice trembled at his sight, you could see it through his eyes, the hurt, how vulnerable he felt by letting you in his heart, and deep down the fear, that same fear that had been waiting in the back of your mind. The fear of being too much to handle. You wanted to say something more, but he stopped you, knowing that talking about this more, could have been too much for you.

“Shh” He whispered gently, extending his hand for you. “I promise you, my love. I will wait for you, I will be there all the way, even if you’ll be too afraid to kiss me for the rest of your life. Until the end of our days, I will still hold you to my chest and live off of that touch only” He smiled as you held his hand, and closed the space between your bodies, resting your head on his chest. “As long as you are by my side, I will do my very best to protect you, to help you reclaim yourself, I promise, my love”

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moonlight-prose · 11 months ago

Note

Heyy I never send requests because honestly I can’t explain what I mean but can you do

*hard to sit here and be close to you, and not kiss you* from the fritz gerald sentence starter list with steven grant

I loveeeee the way you write him 🥰

THE WAY THINGS CHANGE

a/n: thank you so much darling! i've been off my writing game for awhile. but i was listening to the head and the heart last night and gained some much needed inspo for steven. only to find this perfect request sitting in my inbox yet to be answered. so i hope you enjoy this late response.

summary: memories of steven grant haunted you like a history you could not change. they were your dreams, nightmares, and wishes that never came true.

word count: 1.5k+

pairing: steven grant x reader

warnings: none, angst, my attempts at being a writer again, idk this is probably not very good so be warned.

The sky was set aflame as the minutes and seconds ticked by. Your mug filled with cheap wine sat on the edge of the roof, your hands clasped around it. You wondered if you imagined hard enough that maybe the liquid would burn hot. Would it turn to coffee? The same type you had with him. Would the sun fade to a soothing darkened sky, scattered with very few stars and even fewer wishes.

His smile was an object of permanence in your mind's eye. The quirk of his lips, the pink hue that fell into a pout of confusion. Even if it was just to show he was listening.

Although when it came to Steven, he always listened.

If you shut your eyes—imagined a night sky of infinity and constellations and stars not yet wished upon—you could see him. You could feel the way his curls twined around your fingers. The soft brown was somehow your favorite hair color now. You never knew you had one until him. They became a staple when you remembered him. The singular trait you latched onto when you could no longer trace the shape of his face, the curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose.

“What’s your favorite thing about the night sky?” you asked on a whim. The coffee perked you up slightly. Bitter and grainy on your tongue but perfect nonetheless. It allowed you to stand there at least, to stay awake as his own mind fought against the exhaustion that no doubt riddled his bones.

He never complained though.

Never told you that he lived on barely enough; that his mind was a place of chaos he’d been privy to for quite some time. You saw him as much as you could, but sometimes time never seemed to work in your favor. Time seemed to be intent on keeping the two of you apart.

He smiled—bright enough to put a sunset to shame. “The moon.”

“Of course,” you huffed.

His life wasn’t a secret to you. Steven—ever the man to consider others emotions—made sure to be upfront with you. As much as he possibly could of course. But some secrets were simply not his to tell, not a history he could divulge. So he made up in whispered words of lands that existed centuries ago. In stories that bridged the gap between humanity and the past. He regaled you with the history he could speak aloud with the hope that it would be enough.

That you’d be okay with just that.

“Tell me yours love.”

Somehow breath turned nonexistent around Steven. Your default had become to live eternally without it. Not that you minded much. Breathing was no longer a necessity when you yearned for the sensation that came without it. The skipped beat of your heart, the warmth that spread through your stomach, and the love you felt spark along each nerve and each limb.

With Steven you felt like you existed on a different plane. Problems were nonexistent. Humanity became an afterthought, and the possibility of anything flourished like a flower at the start of spring. Bright and beautiful and full of endless potential.

You’d describe your relationship with Steven that way. A perfect replica of that actually, but every now and then life collided with your shining star, knocking away the wish before you could make it. Steven held your hope in his open and inviting palms, yet the thought of permanency with him…felt further away with each passing day. He couldn’t remain. He could barely stay for the moments spent awake together.

“The stars,” you whispered, casting your gaze out onto the sea of tiny shining sparks in the sky. An endless amount of them out in space, yet so few shone in the night sky.

“For the wishes?”

You smiled. “I guess so.”

Oblivious to you, he had moved closer, his leg centimeters away from brushing against yours. “What are you wishing for tonight?”

Could you tell him? Could you reveal that your mind—your heart—was set on him. After all this time it would always be him. Steven had sunk into your life as one would fall to the bottom of a river. Softly, smoothly, until your breath slipped free in a thousand tiny bubbles. Yet you held the option to come up for air; you had every choice layed out in front of you.

When it came to Steve though…sinking was the choice you’d make every time. You’d rather drown in his sweetness than live without it. A fact that you’d come to terms with months ago.

“You tell me,” you replied, your eyes meeting his. So full of life, so full of hope. It nearly broke your heart in two.

He smiled. “It’s not really a wish.”

“I don’t care.”

“It’s…uh…” He tapped his finger on his leg. A subtle beat of morse code, each letter spelled out before your very eyes. You caught the makings of an L and an O, but the echo of his cough dragged your attention away. “It’s hard.”

“What’s hard?” you breathed.

He cleared his throat, a hint of crimson spilling onto the tops of his cheeks. “Hard to sit here and be so close to you, and not kiss you.”

Your stomach swooped, breath escaping your lungs faster than you could suck it in. Yet you still held his gaze. You kept it like a closely guarded secret; dug your fingers and nails into its makeup hoping that some part would remain once this moment ended. Once you were alone again, yearning for him to return. That was the thing about Steven though. You never had to hold on so tight, because without knowing it, he was already embedded in your heart. He was a part of your DNA.

“It doesn’t have to be,” you said softly, leaning a bit closer. The heat of your mug seared into the skin of your palms, but you ignored it for favor of the burning ache that spread through your stomach. Until it wrapped tightly around your heart.

Like a vice you’d never be able to escape.

“No?”

You shook your head, leaned even closer, and watched his eyes flick down to your lips. “Guess you figured out my wish.”

He let out a breath, shaky and warm, and you nearly collapsed as it washed across your face. Perhaps he wanted to say more, or maybe you should have been the one to keep talking, but Steven was never one to keep you waiting. He yearned for you like the moon did the sun. An ongoing cycle of passing one another by, until nothing remained but your simple silly little wishes scattered across the sky.

He held onto each one with reverence. With the patience of a man who knew that your time together would come. You’d flourish together, pass across one another. Even if it was for a brief amount of time. Steven had always been your wish, your eclipse that was yet to come, yours in more ways than you could imagine.

Cupping your cheek, he tugged you close enough until his nose pressed to your skin, his shaky breath an indication that he felt just as nervous as you. That this small moment of time was anticipated with a fervor you’d never understand. His lips met yours, barely there at first, a soft brush of skin against skin. You felt hesitant, scared that he wouldn’t want more than this.

Until you heard him groan. Broken and long and absolutely withering. He tugged you closer, his lips slotting against yours rougher than before. And you felt the heat spill searingly into your chest, a soft moan bubbling to the surface to echo in the night air. He swallowed it with ease, his fingers lightly digging into your cheek, hand moving to press into your waist. You could still taste his nerves on your tongue, feel the way his body remained slightly tense, but with each touch of your skin to his he began to loosen.

He bloomed for you right there on that balcony with the moon as your only witness.

Hot tears slipped down your cheeks, the sunlight spilling back into your vision as you finally opened your eyes again. Sunset melted into dusk, the soft hues of blue and purple streaking across the sky. Until you could see the moon begin to rise in the east. A glimmer of the man that once held your heart in his.

The creak of the roof door echoed behind you. Probably another tenet coming to admire the view. You gathered your mug, wiped the flow of tears that refused to stop, and moved to give them the space. You’d seen enough of the moon for one night. There was no reason you had to stick around to pick out hopeless stars and lost dreams. That would remain in the past with the rest of your memories.

“What are you wishing for tonight love?”

The breath caught in your throat, eyes wide as you whirled around to face what you assumed would be a figment of your imagination—a cruel trick of your mind. Yet there he stood. Wearing different clothes, and holding a different demeanor, but you’d recognize him anywhere.

You smiled slightly, your fingers tightening around the mug. “You tell me.”

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant #moon knight #moon knight fic #a dream within a dream week🍷#me posting a fic in 2024???#unheard of #my writing

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vhyunjinverse · 10 months ago

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PRINCE !

choi soobin x black!f reader || (18+) || reblogs would be appreciated!

somewhat like Bridgerton if that helps !

warnings: semi-public fucking, prince!soobin, tears, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

“Have you seen him? He looks like he’s never even felt the touch of a woman!” Came a voice from afar. A group of young ladies gathered like others in the ball room.

A chuckle in your ear

“He’s a beautiful one- the prince- no matter how…much he talks about random things. I mean really, who cares about the flowers outside? He sat there for ages telling me about the soil and whatnot!”

“There wasn’t a thought behind her eyes.”

“My mother wants him to court me, I’m doing my best. I’d make a great queen! The prince looks lost most of the time anyways..if I play my cards right, I could get him to fall in love with me.”

“That’s impossible.”

Idiots. All of them. None of them really knew the prince because they had one goal in mind: to be courted by the prince.

Another group of ladies talked differently about him. Calling him intelligent, some who actually took time to know him. Though, it still did not matter, because they wanted him all the same.

“Do you hear that..” breath fanning against your face. Your eyes blurry, barely focused on the sight in front of you. A chuckle from behind you, chin resting on your shoulder. “Can you hear that nonsense they speak of?”

“Y..es…” You gasp, eyes shutting briefly before opening again to the sight. You could hear everything. “They don’t know what they’re talking about. They all want me in some way that i can’t see myself being in. It’s difficult..being a prince-“ He shudders, “-so much to do, so many people to talk too. Yeonjun hyung said that it’s not as bad as being a knight, did you know that they have to train-

“Soobin.” You suck in a breath, hand curling into his. His movements stopping, cock twitching inside of you. “Are you really going to talk about that..now of all times?”

“No- ..no, of course not.” He blushes, lips brushing your bare shoulders. His thumb rubs over your swollen nipple, where his mouth sucked on just moments before. You felt sensitive everywhere, his touch like fire. It wasn’t everyday just anyone was with the prince like this..having sex without being married- the Prince, of all people. “Shit..” he whines.

The thought made your pussy throb, his cock twitching in response. He fucked you in a private hall used mostly by servants to enter and exit rooms. They weren’t known to anyone outside of those intended to use it, and boy..did he use them.

In public, you were another girl to court. Not just any girl, though. You were special, to Soobin that is. When he first laid eyes on you last season his breath had been taken away in an instant. Your dark curly hair, brown eyes. Your curves in the fitting light dress you sported, jewelry placed beautifully, everything about you was perfect. He wanted you. He was a nervous thing though, only watching you from afar..by the time he talked to you, the season was over. But that didn’t stop him from being first of everything for you, and vise versa.

“Feel so good..” He groans into your ear, tugging at your nipple while he fucked you from behind. And no one suspected a thing, no one hearing your small whimpers and whines while being fucked by the future king. His other hand held your dress, rolled up at your hips. Loud smacking sounds from your bodies connecting. “so good..”

His mouth fell open, head tilting back. Your hips rolling, his thrusts getting harder. Now, there were questions as to where the Prince was. It was strange for the man who looked lost all the time to actually be lost.

“S-Soobin…” You whine, feeling that familiar warmth in your stomach. Your cunt throbbed around his length, thrusts sloppier and so much harder. He was close. “Fuck!” Your fingers reach back for him, hand on his stomach- anything to steady yourself.

“What will they say when they find out about this hm? F..Fucking in the secret passages. They don’t even know i’m courting you this season cause i’m too busy being inside of you to show them-“ He groans lowly, your legs shaking. Gushing slick trailed down your thighs. A smack to your ass sent you back to reality. Courting-

“m’gonna cum!” you squeal, his hand covering your mouth as a low groan slipped from his. Together you both stilled your movements. Biting his lip to hold back his moans while his hand covered yours. That didn’t stop your teary eyes from overflowing. Pleasure shooting through your body, feeling his seed fill you.

By the time you both return to the dance floor, everyone knew the Prince chose you. The moment he grabs your hand, his flustered smile. While you danced together…by the time Soobin asked you for your hand, the seed was already planted inside of you. You said yes, of course, Princess.

#soobin #choi soobin #choi soobin x reader #choi soobin x black reader #black reader #fem black reader #soobin x black reader #tomorrow x together #txt #txt x black reader #tomorrow x together x reader #bridgerton au #prince txt #prince soobin #soobin x female reader #soobin x you

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fishyvamp · 5 months ago

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Day 3 of Kinktober 2024

"Such a brat"

Dead by Daylight Pairings: Evan MacMilian | The Trapper X GN!Reader Rating: M | Mature | NSFW 18+ MDNI Word count: 1.3k+ CW: CNC, negotiated kink, Reader gets blue balled Summary: It's that time of year and your normally sweet boyfriend isn't feeling quite himself. Prompt: CNC | “God, you love it like this, don’t you?” Ao3

The Trapper was a blighted monster at this moment. Seemingly fueled by mindless rage. Hook after hook, Each survivor downed in minutes not a single gen completed as he came for the last one, you. The Beast barreled towards you as you ran for the shack. You needed to get out of his way already. You need to find the hatch and escape. There would be no escape however as the moment you ran under that damn pallet you screamed loudly. The sound bounced off the walls of the empty shack the gen only half finished. A painful reminder that none of you had been quick enough to keep him away from the gens, Your leg screamed in pain as you desperately pried the trap off of you. The trial was brutal and pure carnage as you had fought to keep everyone alive as long as possible, but it was all for naught. With a grunt and another scream, you fell to the floor dying. Honing stone, of fucking course he used today of all days to sharpen the traps. He was leaving nothing to chance.

The Trapper, agonizingly, walked toward you picking you up slowly. Basement was right there and all he’d have to do is take you down into the heart of The Entity and she’d be happy. You struggled as he picked you up, but The Trapper pushed you against a wall, Blighted serum dripping from his open sores, his mask oozing and dripping down onto your torn bloodied clothing. The Killer holding you up by the curve of your ass against the wall. Feet instinctively wrapping around him causing a hardness to press against your groin. “God, you love it like this, don’t you?” the usually familiar voice comes out monstrous and hollow. “I can make you feel so much better like this than I ever could as that spineless maggot you call a lover.” a trembling growl ran out. His hand pressed you further into the wall, the wood groaning under the extra weight.

You wanted to speak and defend him, but you were in the trial and only killers were allowed to talk and be heard. So you just let out an indignant grunt, which earned you a hand around your throat. Trapper growled in your ear, “You know I’m right.” his words felt like a threat as you gasped for air feeling lightheaded from the lack of it. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it felt unfair. Why was he allowed to taunt you and make you feel this way? Please, You mouthed. The Trapper pulled his hand away, masked face leaning in pressing against your pulse as he took a deep breath. “You know I can smell you, right Brat?” It was a threat laced with lust and wanton need. “I can feel your arousal. That delicious hole, begging to be speared on my cock.” he inhaled deeply, the hand on your ass kneading the flesh drawing out more whimpers. It didn’t help as he began to grind into you. “You like this don’t you? You like feeling helpless.” His clothed cock rubbing against you the large member grinding into you rubbing your aching sex. He was right, there was something about being made helpless under the weight of a monster that excited you. You had begged for this in a way, but that didn’t mean you were ready to admit any of this.

Seeing you getting flustered the killer relaxed pausing for a moment before throwing you over his shoulder. “Don’t fight or I’ll hook you.” He chuckled darkly smacking your ass firmly as he walked to the foundry. The monster’s boot echoed against the grated stairs as you climbed to the control room. A beaten-stained mattress on the floor. Without much care he dropped you onto it tearing at his own clothes, his coveralls falling to the floor exposing his heavy cock. Even being erect it could barely hold itself up under the sheer weight. His balls were covered in thick coarse hair, large, and heavy as he moved in on you. You lick your lips without even thinking, The trapper noticed this of course, and held the erection as if showing it off just for you. “You want to be a good Brat and suck it already?” despite being posed as a question, you didn’t think it was.

You got on your knees and opened your mouth, hands in your lap as you felt brainless at this moment, The action itself seemed to please the beast, he closed in on you cupping the back of your head as he brought your mouth to his length. The monster growling as you licked the slit of his cock. The smell was like honey and flora, no doubt thanks to serum. Taking a moment you worked your way along the length taking it in little by little jaw stretching to accommodate the sheer girth. The monster was impaint though, pushing in harshly causing you to gag around the length as it pressed into your throat. The cock mostly sheathed inside your mouth he began a steady pace growling lowly, “built like a proper slag.” his grip tightening as he kept a slow but aggressive pace

“That’s a good Brat, take it just like that.” He grunted. Your hands moved one palming the front of your pants the other cupping his balls as tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You could feel the veins as he twitched in your mouth the man leaning forward to brace against the wall directly behind you. He was getting into it his hands running through your hair tugging harshly to keep you in place. The mask twitched and shifted as The Trapper fought to maintain his composure. Poor guy must’ve been pent up all trial. His pace became fervent. “God, look at you, no self-respect. Nothing but an obedient hole.” The words coming out strangled as he neared closer and closer to the edge, “Shit, I’m…” He gasped for air pulling out abruptly glowing orange cum spurting forth covering your face as you obediently held out your tongue to catch what you could. Trapper stroked himself as he leaned back closing his eyes, letting the waves of ecstasy wash over him. Panting he fell to his knees knocking you over as he forced the both of you on the mattress. His arms wrapped around you for just a moment.

“Spit it out,” he growled into the mattress. A smirk graced your face as you looked at him with a shit-eating grin. “I’m not joking, Spit it out, I don’t know what it’ll do to you.” His words came out like a genuine concern. The monstrous facade was gone. He knew you too well, you knew that you would happily eat his release even if it had been tainted. However, the fact that it tasted like honey probably didn’t help. “Just do it.” he sat up mask contorting into a scowl. You just laughed Rolling your eyes you complied, spitting out the blighted fluid before leaning to kiss Evan on his cheek. Mouthing the words, I love you, Evan. “Hatch is just east of Shack. Get out before the entity starts clawing at the walls,” he warned, lying spread out, his naked form on full display, the blighted serum glowing under the dark light. The statement caused you to sit up offended.

Don’t you deserve the chance to get off? After all, Evan was only like this for a short time. He was extra big all over and you had agreed to this in hopes of getting your hands on all of him. As if reading your mind The Trapper folded his arms sitting up straight. “I don’t particularly like getting blinded four times in a single chase, Brat. remember that next time and maybe then I’ll indulge you.” The Trapper just stared you down laughing as you pouted. “Now git, before I decide to hook you anyways. I’ll see after trial.” You nodded your head grumpily walking out of the foundry down the steps towards where he said the hatch was knowing you’ll get payback later.

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight fanfic #kinktober 2024 #dbd x reader #dbd fanfic #dbdkillerxreader #The Trapper #evan macmillan #evan macmillan x reader #Evan Macmillan X GN!Reader #gn!reader #Reader gets blue balled Sorry not sorry #Also just gonna throw it out there Evan MacMillan is a bottom #He just tops as a treat #dbd killer x reader #seriously this killer and his lover are haunting me

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soxcietyy · 10 months ago

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Temptation

Chapter 7

Your dad is tired of you bringing home these unworthy men. None of them being fit to take care of you or to be given the family business since you are the only daughter. He decides to find you someone fit to be your husband and receive help from the father of the church. That’s when you meet Yuta, though just because he goes to church doesn’t mean he’s much of a saint

Mafia, murder, violence, mentions of religion, (will contain other things in the next chapters)

The rest of the week he spent as far away from you as he could. He would come home late, sleep in a spare room or sometimes he wouldn't come home at all. Ever since that day he couldn't help but maintain his distance. He was scared, he didn't want to frighten you like that again. Not only did that cause him fear but also the fact that he cared about that.

He was Yuta Okkotsu, one of Gojos most important business partners that worked under him. Everyone was supposed to be terrified of him. But just the single though oh you being scared of him gave him an itch.

He tried to convince himself multiple times that maybe it was because this was all new to him. The concept of marriage and now having to care for Someone else other than him. Yea that sounds about right. This will soon pass and he'll be back to his normal self.

He's been away from you for a good length of time that he kinda felt prepared to face you again. Putting his foot down and putting you in your place. A women shouldn't be walking over a men. Maybe his actions were justifiable last week. He told you to stay put and you did not listen which created consequences.

Yea that's it, you deserved what you got and he will not let it slide.

"Yu?" He hears a soft feminine voice speak. He snaps his head from the paper he held to the door way where you stood in a sun dress.

"Darling you know well you're not allowed in my offic..." as he spoke to you he noticed the bruises on your neck that he left last week. That delicate skin of yours being harmed by his own hands. He couldnt bare to see the injury's he caused so he looked back down at his paper.

"Yes I know but I'm worried. We haven't been able to sit down and relax. You're always busy or coming home late. We haven't even slept in the same bed. Im worried about us." you say

About us? what a joke, with the way he's been treating you he was surprised you thought that way. A normal girl would of already attempted to run away.

"I don't think what I’m doing should concern you. Go back to bed and get some rest." Yuta says as he scans the paper he's been rereading over and over again. To him it seemed like a never ending paper, every time he read it he would get lost in the words making him have to reread it over and over again.

“Can I least go out for some fresh air?” you ask him “Of course.” He says as he begins sign the paper he held.

“Without someone following me.” You cross your arms. The number of times they had stopped you this week from walking out was outrageous. Every time you confronted Yuta about it he would ignore you and keep on with his business.

“you’re not allowed to go out without anyone accompanying you.”

————————

Your angry thoughts influenced your actions immediately. Storming out of his office you quickly made your way upstairs snatching up his wallet that rested on the nightstand. You couldn’t believe that he had just spoke to you that way. This wasn’t what you imaged being married to him was. You felt like an idiot for actually agreeing to something so dumb like this. Anyone would have seen something like this coming a mile away. You were just so stupid, so gullible to believe every word that fell out of his mouth. After putting your heels on you walk downstairs. You knew well that Yuta had guards stationed right out the doors.

You were so sick of being stuck here with an arrogant man. All you did was try and be the best wife but clearly, he could care less about you and your efforts. Opening the door, you see a tall buff man standing with is back facing you. You let out a small huff as you quietly closed the door behind you. Taking a few small steps forward you see him turn around at the slightest sound of your heels hitting the floor. “Go back inside before I throw you like last time." That did happen didn’t it. “Yuta said he’ll meet me outside the gates. He seemed to have lost his wallet.” You say trying to get pass him.

He lets out a laugh as he blocks you from going further. “do you think I’m stupid little girl? He would never let you go even a few feet from him.” The guard laughs even harder as he shoves you back making you stumble a bit.

You give the man an innocent smile. “Clearly you don’t know him enough to know that he would let me do that. Let me through before I tell him that you put your hands on me.” You talk back.

“What would people say if Yuta’s wife was being man handled? Clearly you would be fired right away.” You stare into his shocked eyes. He mumbled a few words before letting you get pass him. If you knew it was this easy you would if been escaped this place.

Immediately you started walking to the open gates. Walking with the fear of him possible looking outside his window to see you walking off the property. Once you made it out the gates you turn around and shut them. The guard looked at you confused for a second before booking it towards you. That’s when you quickly lock it with the key Yuta always carried in his wallet. You gave him another innocent smile before you ran down the road. Luckily those gates where as tall as pine trees, that means he had no choice but to get another key from Yuta who should be at a meeting about now. That’s if he had the guts to interrupt a meeting.

Running as fast as you could in heels, you cut through people’s property’s so you wouldn’t be found so easily. Eventually after so long of running you made it to the city of New York. Yuta did not live far from the city at all making everything supper close to you guys. Stopping at a coffee shop you rest by the wall and catch your breath. You haven’t ever ran this much in your life before. The adrenalin in your body was still pumping as you held your chest.

“Oh, darling are you alright?”

Alarm bells ran in your head once you heard them say darling. When you look up your met with blue eyes but not the dark ones you know. They were infused with a light green color making them look really friendly. Moving from his eyes to his face you realize this was a total stranger. This man had blonde short hair, chiseled jaw, he wore such a nice navy-blue suit that complimented him. Your mouth seemed to have dropped, mesmerized by his beauty. “y-yes! I’m fine I just got done with my morning run.” You say

“A run? In heels?” he raises his brow.

“yes...”

“Your quite an interesting girl, how about I invite you to grab a drink with me?” he says holding his hand out. You looked at him not being able to believe him but take his hand either way. He grabbed it firmly and walked out with you in his arm.

“ I know this coffee shop with better drinks up the street. I had came to the one we had just left to grab a quick drink to go. Then I ran into you, and I just love having drinks with people.” He says as he walks with a fast pace. This man was really tall, to the point where it kind of hurt your neck to look up at him.

When you guys got to the place you couldn’t believe how beautify it looked. Plants where planted in so many spots and it smelled like roses from the pots that surrounded you. This was something you’ve never seen before. As you approached a table, he pulled your seat out and letting you sit before taking his own. A waiter soon came up to you guys and asked if you guys needed time to order.

“No need, I would like Americano and for the lovely lady hmm, what do you want tea or coffee?” he tilts his head making his golden locks fall to the side.

“I uh, I like tea.” You say

“ Hōjicha please! Oh and maybe a set of your delicious biscuits.”

As the waiter left, he put his attention back towards you. “so do you usually take strangers on-“

“Coffee dates? No, no I am quite a busy man, I was actually free this morning and well I couldn’t just ignore you.” He smiles.

“Oh well thank you for taking me out uhh.” You say ignoring the fact that he called this a date.

“How rude of me! I haven’t introduced myself, haven’t I? The name is Angelo.” He says.

“Oh, I’m y/k Okkotsu.”

His eyes seemed to have lighten up once you told him your name.

“Magnificent.”

“Do you work Angelo?” You ask him curious to know his profession if he could afford to go to such a coffee shop.

“I own many restaurants and coffee shops around here, including the one were at. Its quite new actually.” He says as he looks around admiring his work.

“Really? Wow I really love what you did with the place. It’s so stunning and it feels like I’m in the middle of a flower field.” You say surprised.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it darling. What do you do for work?"

“um currently nothing, I’m just home all the time but I want to get into my husbands business. I want to feel useful you know? But how can I do that when I’m not even allowed to know anything about it.” You look down at the wooden table “oh sorry I started venting without realizing it.” You say embarrassed.

“No need to feel bad I enjoy giving advice to people.” He says as he receives the drink from the waiter that you didn’t even notice. He set your drink in front of you as he took a sip of his. He let out a satisfied sound come out as he tasted the drink.

“What does your husband work in” he asks as he licks his lips.

“Trading under a company.” You say as you also took a sip out of your drink. Your eyes brightened the second your tastebuds made contact with the liquid. This was really good, this man kept on surprising you by the second.

“What is this? It’s so good, I’ve never had such a flavorful tea.” You bring the cup up to your lips once again.

“Ha, I knew it would be to your taste. It’s a Japanese’s tea that has roasted green tea leaves. Its naturally sweet yet has a hint of a smokey flavor in it.” He lifts his hand up in the air to get a waiter’s attention.

The man quickly runs to him and ask him if everything is okay. Angelo reassures him everything is good and that he just wanted to know if he had a bag of the tea you were currently drinking.

“oh you don’t have to do that! I can always come on my own, I want to support the business.” You say.

“oh sweety but what if you can’t go out when you crave it? You already know how husband can be, ugh so bitter for no reason, Speaking of.” He brings his drink to his mouth. “Y- your husband how is he like?”

For a second you thought he was going to say your husband’s name. Then again, he shouldn’t even know him.

“Well, he’s…nothing like I expected him to be like.” You say with a sense of sadness. You had no idea why you held such high expectations for him in the first place. You didn’t even know him for that long and here you thought he was going to be the best husband ever. “I just wish he was more caring, kind, and well just loving in general.”

You had no idea what had happened, when you first met him, he was the most kindest person ever now he was someone else.

“Sorry to hear that,” Angelo crosses his legs as he stretches them out. “Something like that must not be easy to go through, I trust your strong enough to pull through, right?” Angelo looks down at his watch and raises his brows. “it’s near noon, do you need a ride?”

Ride, but to where? You couldn’t possibly go back to Yuta’s. He was going furious when he finds out you escaped. If you ran back home, you feared your dad would call Yuta since apparently, they were buddy’s now. You could get a hotel room, but they would be able to track you right? At this point he must have already called everyone he knew to look for you. At your wedding the kinds of people that came up to him were unexpected, bank tellers, police, business people, doctors, and more. He probably had all eyes and ears out for you. You couldn’t held but fiddle with your wedding ring to ease your thoughts.

“Or you could come to work for me, you can be my secretary for the day.” He offers with a genuine smile.

“Really?! But I’m a women, wouldn’t people look down on you?” You say feeling a bit excited for the opportunity.

“You think I care about other opinion? Is that the way your husband thinks? Such a childish mindset. Common let’s go to my company building.” He says as he helps you get up.

AN: Guys I wrote this on my laptop on word during my finals. I typed 5 pages of fanfic and thought I out did myself and once I posted it onto here I screamed. YOUR TELLING ME THIS IS HOW 5 PAGES LOOK LIKE.

#yuta okkotsu #yuta okkotsu x you #yuta okkotsu x reader #jjk second years #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #yuta okkotsu x y/n #jjk yuuta #yuta okkotsu smut #yuuta okkotsu #yuuta x you #yuuta x y/n #yuuta headcanons #yuuta smut #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta #yuta x y/n #yuta x reader #yuuta x reader

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hanzhen0506 · 2 months ago

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~’I Took It Out on You’~

You hadn’t expected much. A quiet evening with Kyungmin was all you’d been looking forward to all week. You'd been busy with work, and so had he, so when he invited you over to his apartment after practice, you thought it would be the perfect chance to spend some much-needed time together.

As you stood in front of his door, a small smile tugged at your lips. You could already picture the evening: the two of you, curled up on the couch, talking about everything and nothing, your hand in his.

You knocked lightly, and it wasn’t long before Kyungmin opened the door. He looked a bit disheveled, his hair messy and his eyes tired, but when his gaze landed on you, a tired smile tugged at his lips.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, stepping into his apartment. "I hope I’m not disturbing you."

Kyungmin sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking over his shoulder toward the couch. “Nah, I just... I’ve had a long day. But I’m glad you're here.”

You smiled sympathetically, noticing the exhaustion in his eyes. "You look tired," you observed gently, hoping to offer some comfort. "You should rest, if you need to."

Kyungmin shrugged, dropping his bag to the floor and letting out a yawn. “I’m fine. Just… really tired, that’s all.”

You felt a little concern stir in your chest, but you decided to take his word for it. “Do you want me to make you some tea or something?”

He gave you a half-hearted glance, his tone more curt than you’d expected. “I don’t know, Y/N. I’m just not in the mood for anything right now. Maybe we should just… hang out another time.”

Your smile faltered slightly. “Oh... Okay. I understand if you’re really that tired. I don’t want to keep you from resting.”

Kyungmin’s frustration, which had been simmering beneath the surface, suddenly flared up. He ran a hand through his hair again, his brows furrowing. “Look, I’m really tired. I told you that already, right? I don’t need you hovering around me or making a big deal about it. You’re being a little clingy right now.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. Clingy? You stared at him, stunned, as his tone grew sharper, more irritated.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, Kyungmin,” you said quietly, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice. “I just thought we could spend time together, but I can go if you’re that tired.”

Kyungmin seemed to register the hurt in your expression too late, but by then, he was already too deep in his annoyance. “I didn’t ask you to come here in the first place, you know? Maybe you should’ve just texted instead of showing up like this. I don’t have the energy for… whatever this is.”

You felt the sting of his words, each one heavier than the last. He hadn’t even really looked at you when he spoke, his eyes on the floor, his posture closed off. It made you feel small, like your presence had become an inconvenience rather than something he appreciated.

“Okay,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You nodded slowly, not trusting yourself to speak any louder, lest your emotions spill out. “I’ll go.”

You turned to grab your bag, your fingers shaking as you held it tightly in your hands. Kyungmin finally seemed to notice the sudden change in you, but his expression was unreadable. “Y/N…” he started, but you didn’t wait for him to finish.

Without another word, you walked out the door, shutting it softly behind you. The sound of the door clicking shut seemed to echo in the silence that followed.

Kyungmin stood there for a long moment, his anger fading into confusion and regret. He hadn’t meant to lash out at you like that, but the exhaustion and pressure of the day had made him snap without thinking. Now, as the silence of his apartment stretched around him, he realized how much he had just hurt you—and how wrong his words had been.

He paced around his apartment, unsure of what to do. The realization hit him all at once—he was being selfish. He had hurt the person he cared about the most over something so trivial. Why hadn’t he just let you in, instead of pushing you away?

He grabbed his phone, his fingers hovering over the screen as he debated texting you, but his pride held him back. He didn’t want to be the one to admit he was wrong, but every second that passed made the guilt grow heavier. The apartment felt even quieter without you there, and suddenly, he could feel just how empty it was.

You were important to him, more than he’d let on. And yet, he had been too quick to push you away. He hadn’t given you the comfort you needed, only pushed you out when you needed him the most. The weight of it all settled heavily in his chest.

With a deep sigh, Kyungmin finally pulled up your contact and typed out a message:

Y/N, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I was just exhausted and… I took it out on you. You didn’t deserve that. Can we talk?

He stared at the message for a moment before hitting send, his fingers hovering over his phone. He couldn’t take back his words, but he hoped that, maybe, you could find it in your heart to forgive him.

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

(Please do not steal my works!)

#zhan talks!^u^'#tws imagines #tws pledis #kpop imagines #tws kyungmin #tws angst

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lajulie24 · 7 months ago

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What I should have said

Part 1 of a series of ficlets/drabbles featuring Han and Leia in different AU scenarios. Written for Han/Leia Appreciation Week 2024 ( @hanleiacelebration ) Day 3 — AU/Canon divergence.

When Han confronts Leia in the hallway on Echo Base, Leia changes her response.

“Well, don’t get all mushy on me. So long, Princess.”

Han turned on his heel and strode out of the command center, and Leia couldn’t tell whether she was more furious at Han for going back on his promise to stay, or for the way he’d broken the news to her.

She’d felt her heart go into her throat as he was speaking with General Rieekan, and could barely say a word as he’d come over to say goodbye. (Not even “goodbye,” just “I guess this is it.”) She knew she’d sounded cold, but what the fuck was she supposed to have done instead?

It didn’t take her long to decide to follow him into the hallway. No way was that bantha shit going to be the last word, after what they’d already been through together.

She spotted him moving swiftly down the corridor toward the hangar (well, as swiftly as one could on this ice without falling on one’s ass).

“Han!” she called, and he paused and turned around while she caught up.

“Yes, Your Highnessness?” he asked.

Great. So it was going to be like that, was it? Might as well get right to the point. “I thought you had decided to stay.”

“Well, the bounty hunter we ran into on Ord Mantell changed my mind,” he said.

Damnit. She’d hoped Ord Mantell had just been a temporary setback, that after they’d gotten back and everyone had recovered, that things would have blown over. Guess not.

“Han, we need you,” she said. She hoped it wasn’t too late.

Han scowled. “We need?”

“Yes.”

“What about you need?” he asked.

Leia was a split second from answering that she didn’t know what in nine hells he was talking about, but she paused. This wasn’t the first time they’d had a conversation like this. Usually it was less angry, more him encouraging her to put herself before the Rebellion for a change, but—

He was asking her for what he needed, she realized. That’s what Well, your highness, I guess this is it had been about too.

The most ass-backwards way to tell me what you need, she thought. But she and Han had gotten into the habit of things being unspoken between them. Maybe that was ass-backwards, too.

“I need?” she asked him, her voice a little softer.

He gave her a pointed look, like You know what I mean.

She swallowed.

“I need you,” she said. She was aware there were people passing by in the hallway, no doubt expecting some kind of epic blow-up the way she’d stormed out of the command center, but fuck it. “I want you to stay.”

A second ago, Han had looked ready to pounce, ready for whatever counter argument she might throw at him. Now, he didn’t seem to quite know what to do with his limbs. After a couple of false starts, he crossed his arms, still in that protective stance.

“You do, huh?”

“I do.”

Han sighed and unfolded his arms, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. His body seemed to relax a little, but he wasn’t happy.

“Don’t want to leave,” he said, “but I think that might be the best thing for you.”

She shook her head. You want me to be more selfish, Han, I’ll be selfish.

“No, it’s not,” she said angrily, then realized she was coming pretty damn close to crying, which made her angrier.

Han was beginning to notice the growing crowd of other Rebels moving through the hallways.

“C’mon,” he said, “let’s go somewhere…not the hallway. We’ll talk.”

#myfic #hanleiaweek2024 #hanleia #han x leia #star wars #leia organa #han solo #day 3: au/canon divergence #the empire strikes back

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xxfaithlynxx · 1 month ago

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Promenades and Imaginations

Pirate!Sylus x OC!Aria Harglow

Mentioned: Zayne, Philip and 'Blonde' Xavier.

Ice Dance- Ashton Gleckman (Edward Scissorhands)

ENJOY the next installment!

NOT PROOFREAD!

Please DON'T steal or plagiarize my work. Much appreciated! As always. ~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2:

“You know, brother. One could misconstrue your insistence of being present during my bath as less than gentlemanly. I am a grown woman now.” I sat idly inside the deep copper bathtub, water and suds covering up to the upper quadrant of my shoulders.

“Poppycock, woman or not, you are still and forever will be my baby sister! And I can’t stand idly by while you waste your time galivanting about like you have nary a care in the world. You need a marriage match, Ari.” I dunked myself beneath the surface of the water, exhaling through my nose, letting the bubble smack the surface, some popping while others decided to stay, occupied with my breath, my lifeforce.

Closing my eyes, I could still hear the lilt of his voice, but the clarity was no longer pure. Garbled it was now, and drifting I was. My mind wandered back to that terrace, and that voice, and its hidden owner. Had quickly such a voice had been memorized within my mind, within my very nerves. I was sure… as much as I would have loved to put a face to it, without it, I could pick that voice out within a crowd and find my way to its owner.

“The darkness is no place for a dove.” Dove… he thought me a dove. Honestly, I should take that as a compliment, but they way he’d said it… made it seem like it wasn’t. Doves were beautiful birds, aviaries used them for passing along messages, used them for navigation and they bird itself was durable and had the ability to fly long distances. Something I couldn’t do…. Biblically, it’d been used as a messenger from one of the Gods, to show that the flood waters had receded. Not that I held any faith in such a thing, all of that seemed like a load of hogwash to me, but who’s the say. Opening my eyes from beneath the water again, I released the last of the air from my lungs, before curving my fingers up and over the edge to pull myself upright once again. Pinching the water away from my eyes.

“Ari, were you even listening to me?” I’d shoved my littlest fingers into my ear canals to clear them of water, only hearing Caleb speaking once the appendages had been pulled free.

“Yes, Caleb…” I lied, but then thought better of it, “Well, no not really. What did you say?”

“Father condones that of a love match, but things with the north and the south have been heating up as of late, and we need to rectify allegiances sooner, rather than later. So, we must consider some form of arrangement.” He paused, sighed and continued, “Did either the Viscount or the Baron catch your eye?”

“Caleb, those boys are like my own brothers, I could never see them as marriage material. I thought you perused the guest list, several times if I’m not mistaken, so why just invite them?”

I heard him release a rushed breath, a heavy sigh, “I did invite several other titled Lords of the realm, but none seemed to take an interest in you, for that I do apologize to you, dear sister. Why they even accepted the invitations leaves their allegiance to father something to be desired.”

“As sad as it is to admit, brother… you have no one to blame but yourself.” I lifted a leg from beneath the water, hoisting it above the surface just to run a sponge over my glistening skin, making sure to clean between my toes as I went, “You barely let the men who arrived anywhere near me, the only two you allowed me to dance with were the Baron and the Viscount. How else would you think the others would react to being first invited, only to be rejected by none-other than the invitee.” Repeating the action with my other leg, I could only hear silence from the other side of the black room partition divider. “I apologize, I did not mean to offend.”

“No, no. You need not worry, dear sister. You… are correct. I should’ve been less diligent in my, what do you call it? My mother-hen tendencies. By your leave, I hope you have a good night.” I could imagine him bowing his head, always the dutiful gentleman, before leaving the room. Sighing, I hoisted myself out of the bath, and with one hand resting along the edge of the tub again, I stretched to fetch the towel hanging from one of the metal stands. Damnit, Jen… why’d you move it so far away. Finally, I managed to pinch the plush fabric between two knuckles and pulled it quickly towards me.

I squeaked in a throw of panic as I felt my feet slip an inch over the bottom of the tub before catching myself. Sleep sounds nice right about now….

Drying myself quickly, I donned the silk scarlet robe that hung over that same partition wall and wandered into my room, toweling the mess that was my hair now that it was unbraided and free of all the ornaments and gems. Again, my mind couldn’t help but wander back to the little event that had imbued itself in my mind like a brand. The warmth, and jest of his words… but the underlying sadness that seemed attached to the man himself, not just his voice. How could I know that? I hadn’t even seen him… how would I know with just a few cryptic words?

“Miss, I’ve turned down the covers for you, be wary of the warming pan. I’ll be back to remove it later.” Yvonne, Jenna’s daughter and my other lady’s maid, said near the door to my room.

I nodded at her, showing a light smile, “Have a pleasant night, Nonny.” A nickname I’d adopted from her mother when she’d been employed. She preferred the use of her full name, but the monicker had stuck and she never complained about it. She smiled kindly at me before exiting the room, shutting the large wooden door silently behind her.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I braced my hands on the edges the mattress, hair towel forgotten where’d I’d absentmindedly draped it over a hanger near the fireplace to dry while lost in my thoughts. Who was the owner to that voice?

“Why do I need to know…?” I whispered to no one in particular. I could feel my eyes glazing over as my imagination ran rampant, picturing a face and body to match the voice. I was entirely sure the man I pictured would not be anywhere close to the likeness of the actual man, but… a girl could dream.

A vibrant image of a tall, handsome man with dark hair and hard eyes appeared in my mind. A narrow, but straight nose sitting between heavily lashed brown eyes, plush lips in the shade of soft pink blossoms. Broad shoulders, and long arms, leading down to soft but large hands. A wide chest and narrow waist, long but muscles legs. Clothed in the darkness, black shades of velvet and satin for his cloak and overcoat. Shined to perfection shoes and burgundy gloves.

Opening my eyes, I couldn’t help the tinge of blush that rushed into my cheeks and ears. I’d never willingly imagined the visage of a man before, and as dressed as my mind had made him, there was a small part of me that desired to remove those clothes. No… let’s not go that far. Striking up the image of the persona who I thought belonged to that voice was bad enough, let’s not wander down lecherous trails.

“If he even remotely falls under any of the categories, I’m imagining… he would be the ideal man, wouldn’t he.” Why was I talking to myself…. Oh great, I must be getting old. I recounted a time several years ago when I caught Caleb having a conversation with himself in his study. He’d been twenty-two at the time. I shuddered at the thought.

I slipped under the covers of my bed, pulled them up to cover my shoulder and turned to face the window where the remaining moonlight cast soft beams through the sheer royal purple curtains, beyond stood the stone rail of my personal balcony, it was lit up from the moonlight, and just as my eyes began to drift shut, I could’ve swore I saw a massive black bird hop along the railing, a bright red eye flicking in my direction.

~~~

My little rendezvous with the mysterious voice remained my very own secret as the days moved on, but I found myself looking for the image I’d conjured up, looking for a man whom I had no actual idea for how he looked like.

“Ari, are you even listening to meee?” My attention snapped back to Tara in that moment, my eyes had been scanning through the throngs of meandering folks promenading through the court’s gardens. I gave her a weak smile in apology before she started in on another scandal she’d heard from one of her lady’s maids. I tried to focus, I really did… but my mind was drifting. Between the dreams of that bird, the voice, and picturing an entire scene between him and I. Of course, my own imagination running rampant to fill in the blanks, the biggest of which was what the man looked like.

“… so, I suppose now she would be with child, no?” My eyes snapped back to Tara, having missed the entirety of her conversation once again. She looked hurt, but also curious. “Darling, you have been downright spacey all day, what is going on in that mind of yours?”

I smirked, always the observant one. Should I tell her? Of course. “The other night… at the coming-of-age ball… I met someone.” I glanced around for listening ears as I said the last three words. Thankfully Nonny and Tara’s maid were walking several paces behind us, giving us our privacy. I watched as her eyes blew wide and a broad grin stretched her puffy cheeks.

“Tell me, tell me, tell me!” She all but squealed, I patted the hand she’d left curled around my arm and smiled at her, another blush running up into my face.

We were coming up to my mother’s willow tree now and I dragged Tara to the base before casually taking a seat, my skirts draping around me like a fan. Tara followed suit and clasped my hands with her own. My eyes fixed on the little white lace gloves she wore for a moment before I took a deep breath and explained.

“It wasn’t exactly… a true meet.” That caught her attention tenfold, “right after you cajoled my brother into conversation, allowing me to escape… I went to the south terrace for some air.” I directed my gaze upward, seeing the underside of the same terrace above, “Only, I guess I hadn’t been alone.” I left out the bit about my crying, “He hid himself amongst the willow bows, I never saw his face, but he spoke to me.”

“What did he say?” She asked, completely enthralled with my Romeo and Juliet style fairy tale. She was an even bigger romantic than I was… than most girls our age who knew nothing different but expected entirely opposite results as we’d been told since childhood.

“Honestly, not much.” I looked down at my hands, thumbs twiddling together, the friction of my own lace gloves roughing up the edges of my fingernails. A small smile pulled my cheeks upward, “He called me a dove.” Not the entire truth, but he did.

I could feel Tara staring at me, “How romantic!” She reached out and gripped my hands between hers again. “What was his voice like?” She was breezing right over the fact that a strange man had basically cornered me on the terrace, I could’ve been scandalized- her favorite topic.

Yet another blush rushed up into my face, “It was….” I had no words. How does one describe a voice such as his? “Confident and relaxed but also seemed to hold a sliver of sadness to it.”

“Honey, that’s not what I meant… but I am surprised you picked up on those without seeing his face. What I was getting at was pitch.” I looked up at her, I was surprised as well.

“I suppose you could say gravelly and low. A baritone, with a rough timbre.” My brows pulled together as the image I’d come up with of what I assumed he looked like appeared behind my minds eye.

“Do you think you could pick it out if you heard it again?” She asked me, reaching up to brush a willow leaf from the braid that wrapped around my head.

I looked her directly in the eyes, allowing the gleam within my own to shine through, “Without a doubt.”

~~~

Tara and I had made it our mission to try and seek out groups of men throughout the promenade, and through town while we did our minor ribbon, bow and jewel shopping. Trying to hear the voices within the groups, attempting to search for this mysterious voice I’d heard.

At one point, I’d come close, or I thought I did, to finding the man. He was handsome, big green eyes that smiled down at you from his much taller vantagepoint, dark hair that draped over his eyes, although being a whopping five-foot-two made everyone around me seem giant. I’d focused on his looks versus his voice and had run right up to him on a whim, latching on to his arm. I’d been so embarrassed when I remembered that it wasn’t an actual man we were searching for, but the voice of one.

Tara and I were sat at one of the nearby cafés, a small bowl of sparkly apricot sorbet sat before us, delicate silver spoons sticking out of each edge. Apricots were a specialty here… My family had hundreds of massive orchards amongst the mountains around our land, that was another way our family to maintained wealth, not to mention the apricots we grew were one of a kind. An ancestor had managed to create a strain of fruit that sparkled upon being bitten. From then on, people deemed our orchards that of the sparkling Harglow.

“I don’t know what came over me, Tara.” I was bent over in my seat, in a very unladylike position with my face in my hands. “I saw that man and just lost control. Argh. I am such a fool.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Ari. He didn’t seem all that insulted by the fact that a beautiful young lady had thrown herself at him.” She giggled, which made me feel even more embarrassed. “Besides, he was quite gorgeous.” She snapped her fan open and waved it at herself, that shit eating grin in place, making me smile back and sit straight again. “Now, shall we enjoy the sorbet before it melts?”

“Yes, we shall.” I responded, pinching that tiny spoon betwixt two fingers and digging into the fruity dessert. We giggled and talked our usual gossip before mingling for a while longer just to try and listen in to the surrounding conversations.

It was only after the sun had dipped low in the sky did, I heave a soft sigh and shake my head forlornly. Was I ever going to find the source of that voice?

We were just standing to return to the castle when someone behind me spoke a single word, and I froze. “…like a dove.” That same timbre, the same gravelly edge, that confident brusque and relaxed tone. Tara saw me freeze in place and was already darting her eyes around. I snapped up once my shock had dissipated some and looked around. How do you find the owner of the voice when there were so many bodies already moving their mouths!

“A dove, you say?” Another voice said, a softer pitch, slightly higher in tone. I scanned every man I could see, looking to watch they way their mouths moved. I saw the tall dark-haired man with green eyes that I’d latched on to earlier, he was stood beside a taller man, looking at him. His back faced me, a tall hat sat atop his head, a long black cloak flowed down off his shoulders, stopping mid calf, to reveal shiny black shoes and black pleated trouser cuffs. The two of them were walking away from us, toward the pier, but the way that one word was spoke… that had to have been him!

“Tara….” My eyes were fixed on the back of this man, memorizing the cut of his shoulders, the way he walked. Even slightly hidden from his cloak, everything I could see my mind memorized. She came up beside me and wrapped one of her arms through mine, following my gaze. The two men were beginning to disappear down a hill that led to the docks.

“Was that him, do you suppose?” She whispered to me, but I couldn’t find my voice. My nerves were rattling with heat and recognition. It was him.

~~~

That night, I was pacing in my room. Okay, so I saw him… sort of. I saw his back. Wait, had he been standing with the dark-haired man when I latched on to his arm?! No… he’d been talking to a shorter… blonde man. With a groan of frustration, I threw myself on to my bed, burrowing my face into one of the lavender down pillows and screamed into it, feeling the resolute vibrations move from within my chest into the pillow, the warmth of my breath heating the fabric around my cheeks.

“Miss? Are you alright?” I peaked an eye to look towards my door, Yvonne had poked her head in, fingers gripping the edge of the door.

“Yes, Nonny… I’m fine, thank you for checking on me.” I pushed myself to kneeling on the bed, as I gave her an authentic, but soft smile to reassure her.

“Oh, good, miss. I was worried! Um… Master Harglow has requested your presence in his study.” Her soft voice betrayed her nerves. Caleb rarely summoned me, and when he did… it was usually to do with some near scandal that I may or may not have been involved in. Oh boy….

“Thank you, Nonny. Please let him know I’ll be right down.”

As I swept into Caleb’s study like a princess, albeit, clothed in my night gown and a robe, looking nothing the sort, I curtsied and lowered my head. “You summoned me, brother of mine?” Lifting my head, I came face to face with an angry looking Caleb. He looked like a puppy that was denied a treat!

“Dear sister, do tell me how your promenade was this afternoon.”

I blinked, what why? “It was fine, Tara and I roamed the gardens, we sat beneath mother’s willow and even enjoyed some sorbet at that cute café down by the docks! I even managed to find some ribbons that matched my color pallet! Truly, a splendid affair.” I tossed him a fake smile, only to find him with steepled fingers, white knuckles and a glare to end all. Yup, he saw right through that.

“Would you care to explain why gossip monger extraordinaire, Madam Burke, saw you dangling off the arm of a gentleman today?” Shit… Burke had the biggest mouth amongst the gaggle of women who took every ounce of information gathered and spread it around, no matter the consequences.

“It was a misunderstanding, Caleb. I swear, nothing untoward happened, I thought I recognized him, that was all. I apologized immediately after.”

“Did you see him at the ball? What do you mean you recognized him?”

Rock and a hard place… “I thought I might have, but I was mistaken.” I tried to keep it simple, less directing but with how Caleb was glaring at me, I knew I was in shit. It was always the same when I got called in here, it was never for anything good. No praises, no good news. Always bad, always the sour end of the blame.

“Fine. Just… make sure you look next time, please.” He looked down to the papers on his desk again, retrieving a quill from its stand before pausing with it above the paper, his head tipped up, his eyes meeting mine. “You may go.” I stuck out my tongue at him. Fumbler fop. Dismissing me like I’m a servant. Even I wouldn’t be so cold. I sighed as I exited the room, leaning against the solid surface of the door. He must be very cross with me to act in such a way. Silver lining, at least he said please.

I decided to head back to my rooms and met my father along the way. A loose fitted sleep shirt hung off his shoulders, a red velvet robe with black dressings hung atop. He smiled at me before he tied the belt around his waist. “My girl, what are you doing up at this hour? Should you not be dreaming by now?”

“Caleb summoned me.” He bit his lip and nodded, reaching out a hand. I took it and he curled it around his arm as he led me up the stairs to the living quarters.

“With you of age, he has had to pick up a great number of new dealings. He informed me of an incident this afternoon, I did try to admonish the situation as best I could, but he would not hear head nor tail of it.” I was cowed by my father’s words and stared off at the carpet as we walked. I felt his eyes slide to me once we were outside of my bedroom, he turned me to face him fully and held his hands over my shoulders, “He loves you, dearly, my little melody. Do not let one little thing ruin a vast lifetimes worth of experiences. It is simply a bad day, nothing more.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of my head.

“I love you, father.” I whispered before wrapping my arms around his frail frame. Pressing my cheek against his chest, feeling and hearing the thrum of his strong heartbeat against my ear. He hummed as he hugged me in return, I hadn’t realized just how much today had gotten to me, not until now, being enveloped within the arms of my aging father.

“No more tears, my girl.” He leaned back and held me at arms length, before raising a single hand to grip my chin between forefinger and thumb, “Keep that chin up, darling. Everyday is a gift, treat it as such.” I smiled up at him and sniffed as he let me go and walked on down the hallway toward his chambers. I watched him go, folding away his words into the bank of information in my mind of things he’s ever told me.

Ever the wise old Duke. I smiled softly, before pushing open my bedroom door and stepping beyond the threshold into the dimly lit room. I wasn’t sure who it was, be it Nonny or Jen, but they’d lit the hearth, the soft snaps of the thin logs drawing my attention as I stopped in the center. My head is always in the clouds… and it almost ruined me and my family today. That’s what rumors did, what gossip was. I needed to do better.

Once I’d calmed down before the fire enough to feel that familiar pull of the sand man at the corners of my eyes, I drifted into my bed like a ghost and laid down, pulling the covers to my shoulders. Rolling over on to my left, I bent my arms to grip the corner of the pillow beneath my cheek and stared out the window. The curtains had been pulled away from the doors, allowing a clearer view of the night to be seen. I could see the stars and their vast constellations, shapes and tales behind each one.

“Maybe I should just give up….” I wasn’t sure what I was giving up on, my dreams? My search? My one wish? My body, too tired to unwrap the thought, took it upon itself to slip into a daze of sleep and wakefulness. Just as the haze of sleep drooped my eyelids, I swore I saw that black bird hopping along the stone rail of my balcony once again, the beady red eye staring right at me.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but I could hear the silence of my room, if that made any sense. I could hear the rustling of the blankets as I moved, the soft subtle pops of the remaining coals in the hearth, my own breathing and the heartbeat that thumped away in my ears. What had woken me?

My eyes pried apart; the image of my room came into view through my lashes. My end table, with its small candle and its base, long since melted down. The book I’d been reading sat besides, the dried red datura flower bookmark placed between its pages. Beyond stood my small bookcase, lined with books and novels about fantasy and worlds unparalleled. Rolling, I faced the balcony again. Weren’t those doors shut?

“Sleep now, little dove.” My eyes fluttered shut at the sound of his voice, so soft, so melodic and gruff in its tone, as I swore, I felt the backs of fingers trace the curve of my cheek. I had to be dreaming, had my imagination gone so far? “You will see that horizon soon enough….”

Wishful thinking, even for me. Why would my mind conjure something so alluring? So asinine. Of course I wouldn’t see beyond what I was shackled to. Impossible…. The feel of another brush of fingers across my cheek drew my sleep addled mind back to its depths. Vibrant images of forests, animals, and adventure flashed behind my lids, causing my eyes to whip from side to side as I tried to grasp them all, experience them firsthand as the dream regaled me with the possibilities.

~~~

He watched, seated beside her on the bed, as her eyelids drifted shut and almost immediately started their rem cycle, flipping back and forth. Those eyes, the very ones that had stolen his breath up on that terrace. The eyes that looked out to the horizon, much the same way he did.

He canted his head, looking down at this young girl, with the vastness of the universe locked within her galaxy blue orbs. Crying for freedom. For something she couldn’t have. What am I doing…? He asked himself as he reached up to brush a strand of her hair behind her ear.

He’d been mesmerized from the moment he’d seen her that night. Something about her… reminded him of himself. A need for freedom, and desire for adventure. Not to mention she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. Hair that rivaled his own, a mouth as succulent as a rose. Cheeks that never quite gave up the pink hue of a blush. A slender neck and soft shoulders. He’d been drawn to her that night but had shooed her away instead. He’d seen the hurt in her eyes when he’d called her a dove, although, he’d meant it as a compliment. What she’d said to him had solidified his desire for her.

“Even a dove has more freedom to roam the darkness than I do.” He’d wanted nothing more than to protect her from that moment on, from the future that had been planned for her. Had been chosen for her. He despised society in its cruel banality. Always the same, wherever he went, never changing. Females by any title weren’t given the right to think, to choose, to want. Seen, not heard. Simply put, they were to bare children and nothing more. Continue the bloodline no matter what.

Where he was from, he’d made sure that people of every sex, race, and nationality were respected and accepted. An ongoing revolution.

When he’d seen her sitting outside that café, he’d nearly gone to her, but he’d stopped. Only to watch her run up to one of his men, Zayne, his doctor and cook, and latch on to his arm. Something inside of him had nearly snapped the man’s head off, a jealousy that surged through him like he’d never known before.

He’d been watching her for days now, even having his shoulder pet, Mephisto silently watching over you as well each night. He’d made sure to stay just far enough away, for he knew if she’d hear his voice, she’d come running. He’d seen it in her eyes. So, he simply watched, watched her mannerisms, the way she spoke, the way she carried herself and spoke to others. She never treated her lady’s maids poorly, she treated them like they were humans, not items. The few friends she had, she seemed to trust the smaller brown-haired girl the most, even having her join in on her little quest to search him out.

He chuckled in the dim lighting of her room, eyes drifting over her possessions. Minimal frivolous items that many ladies of her age would tote or flaunt. No… her room was far more mature than she seemed to let on. Opposite her bed stood a bookshelf, full to bursting with more books than he’d seen in some time. Not since he’d been home. He noticed that night at the party that she’d worn a vibrant dress of red, black and silver. A striking match to the outfit he’d chosen to wear.

I’d been invited to the soiree, but wasn’t given a chance to interact with the girl… was the boy who’d managed the event a family member? He had to be, older brother maybe? He stood, and faced the girl in the bed, eyes roaming over her face for the hundredth time. The way her lashes brushed her high cheeks made his lips part in wonder. She’s truly beautiful…. At first, after seeing her, he’d chocked it up to having been out to sea for too long, figuring that any female would seem as enchanting as she was, but he’d been wrong.

Philip had taken him to a brothel near the docks after he’d returned to the ship, out of sorts after his encounter, and the boisterous women held no salt to the young lady he’d met earlier that evening. What’s wrong with me…. He was known as the Serpent Emperor. Swashbuckling rogue of the Aetherium seas. His land dwelled where folklore had dubbed sea serpents lived, and he had no problem with that little fairytale, it kept the wrong people away, and the right people nearby. A typically hard mannered man, ready to fight at any given moment… and yet, had been rendered a mushy puddle of feelings and protectiveness by a single insignificant chat with the princess of the region.

By no counts had anyone successfully tame the man prior, not for lack of trying. Many a woman and some men had tried and failed. So why now… why had he fallen victim to the beauty of this little female? He crouched down beside her bed, leaning to press his nose to her hair, silently breathing her in. Apricots, honeysuckle, amber spice and the smell of the ocean wafted into his senses, molding to his memory, into the very fibre of his being.

“You… are my next horizon, my little dove.” Was all he found himself able to whisper, before he drew back, stood and strode to the balcony she always looked to, every night, with a single glance over his shoulder, he stepped up and on to the railing, and dropped over the edge.

~~~

#love and deepspace #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #prose #sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus qin #l&ds sylus #love and deep space

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fr3sh-tragedies · 1 year ago

Text

Busy Confession

[Mean Girls 2004] Janis Ian x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.81k

Proofread: No

Content Warnings: Language, anxiety, and feelings of rejection

[A/N]: Story three for Janis--I'll be working on another character soon. I still have a couple of characters I want to write for, but then I'll upload the master list I'm currently making and start answering requests.

[A/N] #2: Sorry this one took longer than the others. I've been trying to post every Saturday, but I could not for the life of me figure out how to write this one. I haven't proofread this yet, so let me know if there are any mistakes.

Enjoy!

“Oh come on, turn red already!” Janis hollered, her voice raising towards the end as her nails dug into the material of her steering wheel. Her hands had begun to cramp in the past few minutes, and she knew it was from her white knuckled grip that she had on the wheel during the entirety of her drive, but each time she tried to loosen said grip to help her tense, aching muscles relax, they’d return to their firm grasp at the mere thought of the text she had received.

Logistically speaking, Janis knew [Y/N] wasn’t trying to come across as flirty or teasing. In the emotional part of her mind, however, she wondered if it was actually the opposite–if the girl she had been crushing on for years was finally picking up on it and was now taunting her with semi-flirty responses. Usually, when her emotions would spiral out of control the way they were in the moment, she’d head to [Y/N]’s house to rant about it and ask for any kind of advice. Since that was who was causing what she was feeling, however, she knew she had to resort to her other best friend: Damian. Too jittery from her gay panic, Janis only managed to call him long enough to let him know she was headed over.

He had tried to say something to her before she hung up, but she was in too much of a rush to get in the car that she didn’t comprehend a word he said. She hopped into her car after barely remembering to snag her keys from the hook by the door, scolded herself when she struggled to get the key into the ignition, then sped off out of her driveway toward the direction of Damian’s house.

On the way there, she continued to glance anxiously over at her phone, which she had tossed over into the passenger seat. She feared that [Y/N] would notice her going silent and say something, but she herself couldn’t think of anything to say. With anyone else, she could blurt out a clever retort or crack some kind of joke. With this girl, however, she always seemed to find herself falling silent. The last thing she wanted to do was say something weird or make the situation worse and lose [Y/N]. She was aware that wasn’t how it would happen. After all, she had known [Y/N] far longer than she had known Damian, and even knew her before Regina George changed the course of her life back in middle school.

But that was exactly why she was suddenly so cautious over her words around her. She didn’t want to ruin all of those years together and lose the one person who genuinely seemed to love her for who she is. As far back as she could remember, [Y/N] was the one person she could always rely on without the constant worry of being talked about behind her back. She didn’t want to ruin that by assuming [Y/N] felt the same way about her that she did.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, Janis finally made it to Damian’s house. There, she practically fell out of her car with her phone tugged tightly against her chest. Quick footsteps beneath her was all she could hear as she more or less ran to the front door. Subconsciously, her arm raised far enough for the side of her fist to pound against the thick wood of the door now in front of her. Almost immediately after, it swung open, revealing Damian standing there with a conflicted look. Before he could say anything, however, Janis pushed her way past him and dashed into the kitchen. She froze in the doorway upon seeing Cady standing there as well, visibly confused at her desperation.

“Janis? What’s going on?” Speechless for a moment, Janis could only stare at her. At length, Damian stepped in and cleared his throat, moving to stand beside Cady. “Yeah,” he started, “I was trying to tell you that she’s here, but I guess you weren’t listening. Which, I mean, your face right now kinda confirms that for me.” Finally, the goth managed to blurt out a small, “oh,” before glancing at her feet to avoid eye contact with the redhead still glancing at her in puzzlement. “Am I interrupting something?”

A heavy sigh slipped past Damian’s lips as his hand shifted up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “No, but I think I’m not the only one here that’s “too gay to function.” Not sure if she even heard me at all before she hung up.” Finally, a look of understanding crossed Cady’s features. “Oh,” she mumbled as she once again turned to gaze at Janis. Although she was still averting her eyes from Cady’s focus, Janis managed to sneer up at Damian at his words.

Now worried she was in the way, Cady slipped past the two having a one-sided staredown and made her way over to the front door. “Well, I was just about to head out anyway.” Janis glanced up at this, looking slightly relieved. “But, uh…I’ll give you a call about our plan later on, Damian.” The exhausted teen, at the mention of his name, looked over at Cady as well and nodded. “Yeah, sounds good.”

With that, the redhead vanished through the door and began walking home. Only waiting a moment to make sure she was really gone, Janis quickly whipped her phone back up and powered it on, clicked over to her recent messages, and turned the phone for Damian to see. “Dude, I don’t know what to do. What the fuck do I even say after that? Do you think she knows how I feel about her? What if she does? I don’t want her to hate me for it. How would she react if she really did know? Would she–” Two hands landed heavily on her shoulders, halting her babbling and forcing her to look up and away from the screen.

“Janis, calm the hell down, holy shit.”

He huffed when she managed to settle a bit, then took the phone from her hand to read the screen properly. At the sight of the words [Y/N]’s had chosen, he chuckled and ran a hand down his face. “Good lord, I have no idea how you’re gonna survive if the two of you actually start dating.”

“That’s exactly why I came here, Damian: if I don’t ask her out soon, and if she starts talking like this all the time, I’m going to fucking die of embarrassment. Problem is, I have no idea how to ask her out without ruining everything. I need your help, man. Please.” Damian let out a laugh, crumbling whatever sense of confidence Janis may have had. “Oh my god, you and Cady are the bane of my existence today. How did I manage to not be busy the exact same day you both decided you needed relationship advice?” At his words, the goth tilted her head and hummed in confusion.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you over the phone: the reason Cady was here was because she was trying to figure out how to ask Aaron out on a date without Regina ripping her to shreds.” Janis’s brows shot up in surprise. “Oh, shit. Seriously? Is that what the phone call she mentioned was about?” Damian only nodded in reply, crossing his arms as he suppressed another groan. A moment passed where they only stood there in silence, and Damian was internally grateful his parents were at work as Janis had an existential crisis in the middle of their kitchen.

Finally, a smirk replaced his bothered grimace. “So, she wants to kiss you, huh? Wanna do that with her?” He teased, leaning down to nudge her shoulder and gain her attention again. Janis scoffed and shoved his arm away. Her head turned and lowered in an attempt to hide the growing shade of red on her face, though she wasn’t able to bite back the small grin that painted her lips. “You know damn well I do,” she murmured almost silently.

Damian snickered, cupping his ear and leaning toward her in a mocking manner. “What was that? Speak up–you know I’m selectively deaf.” Janis sighed, forcing herself to speak in a louder tone. “I said you know damn well I want to kiss her.” Upon finishing her statement, she stormed over to the kitchen table and planted herself in one of the chairs, crossing her arms on the tabletop and burying her face in them with a drawn out groan.

As she struggled to gather her thoughts, Damian moved to sit next to her, cackling softly to himself at seeing how uncharacteristically distressed his best friend was over a girl. “But it’s not just kissing you wanna do, is it?” He questioned after a moment. Janis shot up from her slouched position and gestured wildly with her hands. “Of course that’s not it! You know it isn’t! But I just…” She glanced down again, her fingers tangling themselves into her fringe and tugging harshly at the strands as she wordlessly went to war with herself, unsure of what to actually say.

“I just don’t wanna mess everything up,” she all but whispered in a broken confession, returning to her previous position of hiding her face in her arms.

The sound of a chair squeaking followed by something landing softly on the table and being slid her direction made her glance up again. Damian had slid her phone back over to her, though now it was face-down and powered off. “I know. I know you love her–pretty sure everyone does at this point. You’re terrible at hiding it.” Janis jabbed him in the arm again, making him chuckle. Upon seeing how distressed the goth was, he sighed, his voice taking on a much softer tone.

“But I do know that she’s one of those people too, even if that’s not what you wanna hear. Trust me, she feels the same. I’ve got quite the eye for these kinds of things.” Defeated, Janis sighed. She leaned back against the chair, dropping her head back to glare up at the ceiling. “Even if that were true, how the hell would I confess without sounding like some sort of loser? I don’t want her to think I’m a creep or something.”

Her friend hummed in thought at this, his eyes seemingly scanning everything and nothing in front of him at once. “Well, why don’t you make it count then? Make it special–your confession, I mean. Just add a whole bunch of stuff she likes. I mean, she loves going to the movies, eating out at restaurants, playing random sports and board games…there’s all kinds of stuff you could do.”

Janis remained silent for a while, prompting Damian to question if he said something wrong, or if she had even heard anything he said. Finally, right as he parted his lips to ask if she was alright, Janis slowly looked up with a growing smile, almost as if realizing something. “That’s a good idea,” she murmured. “Uh,” Damian started in reply, glancing around nervously as she pocketed her phone and began to stand. “Which one?”

“All of them.”

Over the span of another two and a half weeks, Damian managed to help Janis set up a plan where she could finally confess her feelings to [Y/N] and ask her out. The day had come that they agreed to put it into motion. Janis had never felt so nervous before. Not when she had a class presentation, not during any of the art contests she had participated in, and not even when she came back to school after leaving for the final half of her eighth grade year. She knew how to handle those levels of anxiety, but not this.

Never before had she confessed to someone–let alone someone she could actually picture a future with. In the past, when she found herself developing some sort of crush on another girl in her class, it was short lived. She never had to deal with the feeling long, which is why her feelings for [Y/N] became very evident after reflecting for a while.

In the days leading up to her confession, Janis more often than not found herself sketching [Y/N] on everything. She wasn’t able to focus during classes, so she’d pretend she was taking notes or working on an assignment to hide her inattention from the teacher. Even when [Y/N] wasn’t there for her to see, Janis was still doodling her from memory on anything and everything available to her.

Her sketchbook had been filled to the brim with illustrations of the girl before, but the closer she got to the end of the book, the more the pages seemed to be occupied by her face. No matter what she tried–playing video games, watching movies, going to work after school–she couldn’t get [Y/N] out of her head. More than usual, anyway. Tucked away in the corner of her room, hidden by a thin white sheet, she kept a canvas propped up on her favorite easel. Underneath the cover lay a portrait of [Y/N] she had spent weeks on, always finding another flaw that had her repainting over the dried, flaking pigment.

In her mind, Janis could picture the girl so easily. She could recall every little marking, whether it be a scar or a freckle of some kind, it was so vivid. On her canvas and on paper, however, she just couldn’t seem to get it right. She wanted the illustrations and paintings she made of her to be perfect because that’s how she saw her.

That’s how she had always seen her.

It felt nice thinking about someone she loved so much, but it also worsened her anxiety for her upcoming plans.

She waited until school had been let out for a holiday toward the end of the second semester to carry them out. It would allow for her to set up an outdoor date that would hopefully take place past the beginning of her and Damian’s ideas, as well as give her time off from both school and work.

After making sure [Y/N] was ready for the day, Janis let her know she was headed in her direction to pick her up. The entire drive there, everything about her was shaky, including her breathing. By the time she arrived, her mind was numb and her limbs were tingling. She barely managed to type out a coherent message to let the girl know she was there. Her breathing only got worse once [Y/N] was in the car with her, sat so close to Janis, yet so far away somehow. When she greeted her, her voice cracked and shook, furthering her embarrassment. [Y/N] giggled at her, so she looked down. “God, fuck my voice,” she mumbled.

Again, [Y/N] chuckled, but planted her hand gently on the goth’s shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze. “Hey, I don’t know why you’re getting so flustered about it. Do you not remember when we first met back in elementary school? You know. When I was crying?” Janis sat up a little straighter and smirked. “Because another kid ate one of your dino nuggets during snack time? Yeah, I remember that. Squeakiest voice I’ve ever heard, even to this day.” [Y/N] faked a gasp and a look of offense, bringing her free hand to her chest in an exaggerated manner. “How dare you say that when Karen Smith exists in the same town as us?”

Finally, Janis snickered at her, turning back to the wheel and shifting her gear into drive. “Fair point,” she replied. She leaned over a bit. “You’re definitely the runner up, though.” A scoff and a playful shove was what she was greeted with in reply, prompting her to finally let out a proper laugh. Her smile visibly faltered for just a moment at the feeling of [Y/N]’s hand sliding off of her shoulder a moment later and moving back to rest in her lap in the passenger seat.

“So, what all are we doing today?” At this, Janis’s anxiety spiked once again. “Well, I thought we could go see a movie and then go eat somewhere before I show you the surprise I have for you.”

[Y/N] leaned over a bit, drawing out a long “oooh” with a dorky grin. “What’s the surprise?” Janis laughed and gently pushed her back, even though she didn’t want to. “If I told you the surprise, then it wouldn’t be a surprise.” Again, the girl in the passenger seat faked a look of hurt, though it was quickly replaced with a smirk. “Okay, okay, fine. Fair enough.”

As Janis began leading the car in the direction of the nearest movie theater, [Y/N] slipped her phone out from her back pocket and began typing away and swiping through her apps. Unintentionally, Janis continued to glance over at her and her screen periodically, some unknown feeling bubbling up underneath her skin and causing her throat to fall dry. Her hand slipped to the side to turn the AC’s settings up higher, then drove upwards to run down her face as she sighed. Whatever it was that she was feeling was making her burn up.

[Y/N]’s attention was drawn to Janis’s motions, her head perking up and turning in her direction. “You good?” The goth only nodded, desperately trying to scrounge up some sort of excuse as to why she was suddenly far more flustered than she previously was mere moments ago. “Yeah, I just…I’m really hoping you’ll like the surprise when we get to it. I worked really hard on it.” A small pause. “Oh.” Another pause, one that had Janis fighting the urge to scratch or pick at something with her fidgety hands.

“I’m sure it’ll be amazing, Jan. You don’t need to worry about anything.”

With a bit of force, Janis managed to convince her lungs to work properly again. She sucked in a deep breath, trying to hide her struggle in the motion, and let it slip back out in the form of a heavy sigh. “Yeah, okay,” she replied softly. Thankfully, before things could grow even more awkward, Janis pulled into the parking lot of the movie theater. She switched the engine off and tucked her keys away in one of the pockets of her black, baggy cargo pants. “Well, I guess we should get inside if we wanna get through the long ass line for concessions,” she explained as she pushed her door open and slipped out of the car.

Without thinking too much about it, Janis sped over to the passenger side and tugged the door open for [Y/N], who glanced up at her with a confused stare. She quickly chuckled, however, and stepped out, moving over far enough for Janis to close the door again and lock the car. “Such a gentlewoman,” she teased, prompting the goth’s pale face to flush red again. She still laughed, even through her slight embarrassment, and rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” came her reply, though it was accompanied by a small bump against her shoulder. She had turned to walk towards the entrance, but [Y/N] had almost immediately caught up with her and nudged her arm with her own. Janis grinned at her and double checked that her car was locked before they got too far. As she stuffed her hands into her front pockets, Janis found herself glancing around at the other people littering the street nearby.

She subconsciously let her teeth hook against her bottom lip as she spotted the couples walking in and out of the building, each one leaning against each other and sharing light conversation or cracking jokes. Her fingers bent upwards, allowing her to toy with her rings as she managed to tear her eyes away from a pair sharing a quick kiss and focus on the ground in front of her. For just a moment, her eyes glimpsed over at [Y/N], who was squinting to try and read the movie posters lined up on the wall still halfway across the parking lot.

Janis couldn’t bite back her small smirk at her focused expression, though she let her gaze drop back down to continue watching her feet leading her forward. Too caught up in her thoughts, Janis let out a startled gasp when she felt two arms wrap themselves around her left one. One hooked around her elbow, the other sliding down so a hand could rest on her forearm. She turned her head to face who had clutched onto her, her cheeks and ears bursting with color as [Y/N] stepped closer and beamed up at her. “A-Ah, you okay?” Was all she could manage to ask between stuttering breaths.

“Yeah, I just like your jackets. They’re cozy, even if I’m not the one wearing them. Like, this sleeve?” [Y/N] gently patted the section of Janis’s sleeve covering her bicep to clarify, making the other girl jump, “it’s soft. Not sure how. Looks really rough, but it’s not.” She giggled to herself for a second. “Kinda like you.”

A darker shade of crimson dusted Janis’s already reddened face. “What?” [Y/N] smirked at her reaction. “Well, I mean, a lot of people are scared of you–specifically the freshmen–but I’m pretty sure it’s just because of your style. You’re really good with comebacks too, and even when they’re mean, they’re still funny as fuck. I think people are just afraid to confront you because they know you’ll destroy them. But you’re actually the sweetest person I know. And you’re really cool. I don’t think you and I have ever really gotten into an actual argument, but I also think it’s because you make sure to listen to me and hear me out.

“Most of the time. Unless you’re trying to lecture me on my gaming skills.” Janis smiled at her last statement, though her heart hammered against her ribs for the small speech before. She thinks I’m sweet? And cool? Unintentionally, she tuned out the majority of what the conversation was about as they both headed inside, the wide, sheepish grin never leaving her lips.

They got their tickets checked, stepped into line, got their drinks and snacks, then headed to the room playing the movie they were there for. As they sat in their seats toward the back of the room, Janis finally felt her spiked nerves subsiding a bit, realizing they could both focus on the movie and avoid having to make awkward conversation.

She didn’t pay attention to most of the film. Although her anxiety had calmed, it was certainly still there. Each time she thought of what she had planned next, another wave of trembling shot through her body. Roughly halfway through, [Y/N] shivered, shifted in her seat, and grumbled something under her breath, gaining Janis’s attention. Sensing eyes now on her, [Y/N] made eye contact and sent a nervous smile in her direction. “Sorry, I just keep forgetting how cold this damned theater is.”

Janis hummed, and almost instantly, after putting her box of small chocolates down, she slid her jacket from her arms. She leaned over a bit, motioning for [Y/N] to lean forward. When she did, the goth dropped the jacket gently on her shoulders and pulled it around her a bit before moving to sit properly in her chair again. She fought the urge to glance back over at [Y/N], but from the corner of her eye, she could see the girl tug the jacket snug around her frame. She let out a gentle sigh at the warmth.

Janis cracked a smile without realizing. She picked her overpriced sweets back up and pulled another one from the box, popping it in her mouth before scooching over enough to take a sip from her soda. For the remainder of the movie, the two sat in silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence. When the film ended and the lights came on, they got up and wordlessly left the theater. Once they were in the car, Janis finally fully looked over at [Y/N], sucking in a breath at the sight of the jacket now fully on her.

Sometime during the ending, [Y/N] had ultimately slipped her arms into the sleeves to wear it properly. Janis beamed, feeling a strange sense of pride. “So,” [Y/N] chirped, snapping her out of her trance. “Which restaurant are we going to?”

Oh, right. Her plans.

Janis, to distract herself momentarily, turned her car on and began the journey to the restaurant she had made a reservation at prior to the movie. She checked the time before answering. “Ah, it’s that new Italian place down by the mall.” “Oh, cool! Have you heard if it’s good?” “Yeah, it’s got a lot of good reviews online. It was also honestly the only place I could find that the two of us haven’t both been to.” [Y/N] laughed gently. “Yeah, but who knew we’d end up being drawn to so many different places here?”

The time at the restaurant, much like the theater, was hard to pay attention to for Janis. Throughout the meal, even when she didn’t realize it, she could be caught practically staring at [Y/N] as they both ate their dishes. She managed to focus enough to answer any questions thrown her way and keep the conversation going, but had anyone asked what they talked about, she wouldn’t be able to answer.

By the time they had made it back to the car, [Y/N] was able to tell something was wrong. As soon as the car started and Janis pulled out onto the road to head toward her next plan, [Y/N] tapped her arm to get her attention. A hum slipped from the goth to show she had acknowledged the touch, though she kept her eyes on the road. “Are you alright? You’ve been really…quiet. Like, all day.”

Shit.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m still just really nervous about the whole surprise thing. Which…is where we’re going now.”

After she pulled up to an empty parking lot, Janis took a breath, practically freezing in her seat as [Y/N] slowly got out of the car. A moment or so later, at the sound of a knock on her window, the goth finally pulled her attention away from the steering wheel to find [Y/N] standing there, confused. Finally, she managed to pry herself out of the driver’s seat and close the door. She locked the car with trembling hands before wordlessly walking in a random direction. With a small squeak of surprise, [Y/N] jogged to catch up with her, immediately questioning where she was headed.

“Oh, right,” Janis muttered, glancing up at the now concerned girl for just a second. She turned around to face where she was walking again. “Sorry, I’m just…I’m leading you to where the surprise is, I just forgot to say that somehow.” “Oh.”

Too anxious, Janis couldn’t force herself to blurt anything out, too afraid of making small talk as they headed to where her source of anxiety was originating from. The entirety of the walk, [Y/N] trailed behind her and quickly told herself to just look around at the scenery. They had stopped at some kind of large park, though the part they were headed toward looked more like the entrance of the woods. The sight at the darker shade under the trees caused her nerves to spike, though she calmed down when Janis finally managed to mumble a really soft–almost inaudible–“we’re almost there.”

The closer they got to the wooded part of the field, the more concerned and puzzled [Y/N] grew. Finally, just as she was ready to ask if they were lost, or if Janis planned on killing her–which in her mind made sense, considering the goth had started acting weird in the past hour–Janis sighed and stepped to the side. She lifted and waved her arm, motioning toward a small setup partially in the shade. “We’re here.”

[Y/N] turned her focus to the setup, which made her gasp softly. It was a classic picnic scene: a red and white checkered blanket laid out neatly underneath a large oak tree, a small woven basket weighing one of the corners down, and a cooler for the drinks. However, a decently sized gift was wrapped up and was propped up against the bark. “Surprise,” Janis murmured, snapping [Y/N] out of her surprised trance.

“Oh, Janis,” she whispered. “It’s beautiful.” Janis seemed surprised at her words, a small smile finally painting her lips again. “Really? I figured you’d find it cliche or something.” [Y/N] chuckled and gently nudged the goth’s shoulder. “I mean, you know I love a good cliche. It’s not a bad thing.”

After sharing an awkward grin, the two of them headed over to the blanket and sat down. They picked a few snacks from the basket on the corner, as well as a drink from the cooler, then ate slowly as they did their best to strike up a normal conversation. This worked for a very short amount of time, but [Y/N] eventually gave in and finally asked what it was all for, to which Janis grew nervous all over again.

She tried to find a way to segway smoothly into her confession, but eventually realized there was no point in trying to appear confident. She had blown that long ago. With a heavy sigh of defeat, she stared down at her lap, fiddling with the tab of her soda can to pull her attention away from the set of eyes on her. “Okay, I can’t keep this up anymore,” she began.

“I brought you here because I–” She swallowed hard and shut her eyes. It was just a confession. How hard could it possibly be?

“I brought you here, and did everything else today, to tell you that I really like you. Like, I’m in love with you. A-And I wanted to bring you here to ask you to be my girlfriend.” A moment passed where the two just sat in silence, and although she didn’t want to, Janis finally managed to open her eyes again to glance up at [Y/N]. She worried she had been completely ignored, but she mainly feared she was about to be made fun of by the one girl she actually had serious feelings for.

Instead, she was greeted with the sight of [Y/N] blushing for the first time that evening, a small smile cracked across her lips. “Uh,” the goth stuttered. “It’s fine if you say no. When I told Damian about wanting to ask you out, he said I should make the whole thing special, so…here we are.” More silence, though Janis couldn’t tell that it was only there because [Y/N] couldn’t find the right words to express how she felt. After what felt like a whole hour to her, Janis finally sighed and put her drink down, readying herself to stand up. “This was a mistake, wasn’t it?”

As she began to lift herself off the blanket beneath her, a hand grasped her wrist, halting her movements and prompting her to sit down again. “No, I’m sorry, Jan! It wasn’t a mistake, I just…I never thought you’d actually ask.”

Janis could only gawk at her, mouth agape. “Huh?”

[Y/N] giggled at her reaction. “I would love to be your girlfriend, Janis.”

More laughter stemmed from Janis sitting there, purely dumbfounded as she visibly tried to process the words. Finally, a bright smile graced her lips, one wider than ever before. An excited glimmer shone in her eyes. “Wait, really? You would?” “Yeah, of course!”

Janis finally let out a laugh, then a sigh as she shifted to fall over and let her head land in [Y/N]’s lap. “Oh thank fucking god,” she blurted, causing the girl to chuckle and gaze down at her in slight bewilderment. “I’m so tired. I spent so much time planning this whole thing out. I wanted things to be perfect. I didn’t know you were going to say yes like it was the most obvious thing on earth.” They shared a laugh, the previously thick tension finally lifting.

“Yeah, no, I was always gonna say yes. But don’t worry, I really loved everything we did today. Uh, well, except when you were leading me to the woods and started acting weird. Thought I was about to be wiped from this planet.” Janis snickered again. “Nah, I wouldn’t do that to you.” She grinned softly up at her, shifting to lean against [Y/N]’s stomach. “But I am glad you liked everything today. That’s a relief.”

[Y/N] beamed wider and nodded. She drove her free hand upwards to let her fingers rake through the goth’s dark strands, causing her to let her eyes to flutter shut and lean into the touch. They stayed like that for a while, but [Y/N] eventually had a small reminder pop into her head. “Oh, what’s the box against the tree for by the way?”

Janis’s eyes shot open again, a deep crimson red dusting her cheeks. “Ah, well…” She hesitantly sat up and stood long enough to pick up the present and hand it to [Y/N]. She sat back down next to her and watched as she carefully peeled open the gift. Once it was mostly torn away, [Y/N] gasped gently at the sight of a canvas with a portrait of her, glazed over nicely with Janis’s signature down in the bottom left corner, right next to a small note.

To the one person who has always seen the best in me and has never treated me poorly. I hope this painting does you justice.

Silently waiting for a response, Janis kept glancing over between the portrait and [Y/N], trying to gauge her reaction. When she got nothing, the overly anxious girl cleared her throat. “Do you…like it?” Finally, [Y/N] turned to face her. “Are you kidding? I fucking love it,” was her reply. Janis huffed out a sigh of relief from the reassurance and smirked, leaning against the other girl’s shoulder and closing her eyes again. “Jesus Christ, another huge relief. I love you so much.”

Softly, [Y/N] nuzzled her head against Janis’s, slipping one hand from the partially unwrapped canvas to lift it and cup the girl’s cheek, her fingertips lightly grazing her raven hair.

“I love you too.”

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