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sl4sh3rsub · 1 year ago

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brahms heelshire hcs (nsfw: mdni)

brahms heelshire x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warning: a whole heap. dom/sub dynamics + aspects of the lifestyle (both brahms and reader are switches, reader is a soft dom mostly) AND top/bottom dynamics (both brahms and reader are vers), dubious consent (somnophilia, overstimulation?), use of mommy/daddy/sir towards reader in separate sections, copious mentions of cum + precum (includes cum eating/cum marking/cum jar), fuck malcolm 202x (brahms is territorial), detailed ass stuff: anal, rimming, ass eating (giving and receiving), oral sex (giving), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), domestic behaviour, hygiene practices, hickeys, thigh fucking, cockwarming, sex toys, dry humping

a/n: barely edited. is it mummy or mommy?? average aussie moment. i also have a smut fic in my drafts so hmu in the inbox if you wanna see it, i'm not too sure if there's any demand for it lmao DISCLAIMER: i, personally, have not been in properly established dominant/submissive relationship! i have been in those spaces for a while though and am doing my best to not misrepresent lifestyle aspects or write fics promoting extremely unhealthy relationship dynamics - obviously take this with a grain of salt as this fic is about a slasher and is already not a healthy n wholesome starting point. do your own research and stay safe irl folks

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

there's a very clear dom/sub dynamic in your relationship and brahms is definitely a switch (leaning sub) to the core. sometimes he'll be extremely dominant with you during sex, but he'll always revert back to your sweet boy after he makes an effort to clean you up <3

you take turns fucking each other braindead but after your eyes roll into your head, you always have to get him back by making him drool into the pillows for the next couple of hours

brahms insists on starting a quickie and cumming all over your chest and face right before malcolm is scheduled to arrive. he pushes you towards the door as the bell rings and wants to leave you with his drying spend stained all over your skin, sticking your shirt to you in dark splotches - a territorial, possessive nature is awakened in brahms as he watches from the walls while malcolm flushes and realises what is going on. the best bit is, you're fully well aware of what he's doing after the first time it happens, but you entertain his antics for a little while longer to ensure the poor delivery boy gets the message to back off

he also has a small, little, teensy weensy habit of cum marking all of your underwear, pillowcases and even goes as far as making you special little jam sandwiches with a little... salty layer, especially for you

push your thumb against his hole and go to town on his ass and eat him out - put a pillow under his hips and do him a favour by stuffing your underwear in his mouth so he won't lose his voice as he's screaming from pleasure, of course. he'll be so, so obedient for the day after and if you sneak behind him to smack his ass, his knees will buckle slightly and his head whips towards you to meet your mischievous gaze

his sloppy, spit-shined pink hole winks at you after you make out with it, and the sight makes you lose control every single time, especially when he whines. he grinds against your tongue as you fuck him, circling your fingers around the base of his cock to stop him from instantly staining the sheets. his precious cum spurting onto his chest would be a waste and make quite the mess

brahms' knees get weak and he practically melts beneath your touch when you start focusing on his cockhead while sucking him off - slick up your thumb with his sticky precum as you drag it along his slit, lick small circles and drool over it as you blow cool air to see him shiver... genuinely anything to do with his sensitive tip with get him spilling all over your tongue. if he's sitting on the edge of a table or counter while you take his length down your throat, he'll shift one of his thighs over your shoulder and hump into your mouth with shuddering gasps, needing to have your drool coating him completely while his eyes roll back and you hold your breath

brahmsy is obsessed with you caring for him (both sexually and non-sexually), especially with things such as prescribed routines and specific positions for him to follow. of course brahms is reliant on order! he's already accustomed to following the rules and schedules while in the wall, so it's only natural for him to feel safe with you after his previous neglect. he's so obedient and willing for you to make him into your own pliable doll - he's most happy with you guiding him everywhere and often shaving him, practically playing dress up every day. brahms knows that every saturday is when you have your thorough 'inspection' of his body - it's when you decide whether or not to shave his pubes and facial hair in the next week! sometimes he wants to be clean shaven and sometimes he's more than happy to grow out his dark curls, but he secretly adores you methodically shaving around his cock - gently holding it up or to the side to make sure you get everything and your diligent focus solely on his soft shaft makes him flush under your attentive gaze. every single time you adjust your warm grip on his balls to maneuver the blade, his cockhead beads out a tad bit of precum. every single time, without fail. he doesn't even have to be hard for his body to react like that, for his tip to drool with his arousal, but your low chuckles and distracted glances up at his flushed chest make it hard for him to not squirm in your hold :( he was originally the one to suggest the whole shaving thing, as he wasn't the biggest fan of fully cleaning up after cumming everywhere and it tended to dry in his thick bush of curls. after you first tried out hair removal with him, he found it much easier to wipe off his mess and was overall much more convenient.

your clinical precision in keeping your favourite boy upkept each day makes for a soothing routine for you and a chance for brahms to preen and bask in your attention for a solid hour. brahms' favourite part of the daily routine is your softly spoken orders in the morning to tilt his chin back slightly as you run the razor over his jawline and down his neck. the raw vulnerability almost gives him shivers, but good boys never disobey directions to 'stay still' <3

if you manage to wrangle up get brahms into having a prescribed skincare routine, his attentively mumbled recitations of the order for his cleanser, exfoliant and moisturizer drift down the hall while you prepare breakfast for two of you :(

make sure to praise him for washing up properly before you both get intimate! his lifestyle did a 180 after meeting you, so any encouragement to be clean and neat is positive reinforcement for him to stay that way

if brahms feels a little shy or out of it on any given day, he disappears into the walls for some time away - that doesn't mean he won't trail you like a shuffling shadow though, he just might not want to be out in the open for a little. to make him feel loved, kiss the wallpaper of the wall he's behind! the little gasp or squeak of surprise as he undoubtedly turns beet red just a mere inch away from you is a small joy <3

if you feel stressed or wound up, he's fully convinced that some dick will mellow you out just fine! he wants you to be fucked out so your anxious demeanor disappears and you can be happy again - it's for your own good :(

despite how he loves the wholesome nature of your voice going soft while you compliment him, he can't ignore how it makes him swell in his pants. he just loves the warmth in your gaze and the quirk in the edge of your lips as his eyes glaze over

brahms has a cum jar that he keeps in the walls - it has a small lock of your hair set in it from when you slept in the house the first night. if you have to go out early to the local farmer's market or shops, you'll most likely find a small, warm jar hastily and clumsily cleaned on your bedside table - a cooling milky substance makes the glass opaque as a few small dribbles slide down the outer rim. it's from brahmsy, of course. he wants you to always be aware of what your presence and existence does to him

whenever he wants to try and cook for you or you leave your meal out before you eat together, brahms will quickly jack off all over the food. he just wants to make sure you have a bit of his love incorporated in your diet - in case you accidentally swap them, he'll make sure to put it on all the plates available. he doesn't mind at all, he's not picky! although, brahms would much rather eat his cum off of your fingers or out of you, or even from your lips as you make out after you give him head... but whatever has to happen to ensure you have his cum in your tummy, brahmsy will do it

he is a fiend for stealing your clothing, especially your underwear (bonus points if they're not clean) - he wears the dirty garment or simply wraps it around his leaky cock. he begs you to wear the cum-stained underwear while you go out on emergency necessary shopping trips. he just wants to ensure that you have him on your mind the whole time :(

if you refuse, he'll reluctantly compromise with you and make you keep the doll with you to ensure everyone backs off when you're in public. he swears up and down that you'll be so much safer with his 'mini me' attached at your hip

if you need to go into town at any point, make sure to prep brahms a day beforehand with being alright in your absence - have your laundry done ahead of time with your detergent and scent on it to give him and leave written instructions to have a shower using your soap and shampoo to feel safer <3 if you've been doing a project over the past few days, such as painting or long chores together (like repairing a set of chairs or dusting all the room decor), make sure brahms is comfortable with continuing it when you're out - it gives him a distraction and something to do with his hands

puppy dog eyes go both ways in your relationship - he weaponizes it to try and convince you to spend more time skin-to-skin and you use it to make him listen and follow instructions. it also has the added bonus of getting you both riled up

tap twice on your belt buckle or the fly of your pants and his brain will fully turn off. his breath goes whiny and his tongue lolls out at the thought of you using his face for your own selfish needs

brahms is incredibly shy but willing to go against his own timid nature for you. the first time he presented himself to you was something you'll never forget. you had gone to fetch him a glass of water and when you returned to your room, he had confidently stripped naked and was kneeling on the rug, waiting for you with a blush across his chest. you stuttered and diverted your gaze in shock, hurriedly covering your eyes. brahms rose and tutted, shakily tilted your chin towards him and cooing at your bashful reaction. he whispered reassurances in your ear - he wanted you to look at his body, it's yours to do with as you wish. he trusts you wholeheartedly, so command him and he will meet your every need

if brahmsy is being a bit of a brat, tease him for not being on his best behaviour - press soft kisses into his lips but never deepening, purposefully avoiding what he craves most. keep your hand at the base of his throat to gently apply pressure while you slowly draw closer to him, puffs of breath mingling as his whines get more desperate. if brahms lunges to try and smash your lips together, pull back and tighten your grip. watch his eyes roll back with tears pooling from his need

brahms' favourite punishment is being spanked as he's bent over your knee, cock pressed between your thighs. whenever he jolts, he can thrust into you as his pale skin lights up pink and red - both from your hand and his arousal. make sure to smack his balls a little too, he'll cum like a fountain from the stimulation. brahms truly is a sight to behold whenever he is falling apart by your hand

his second favourite punishment is when you fuck yourself on a dildo smaller than his cock. order him into his prescribed kneeling position - palms flat on his thighs, heels propped up under his ass and back straight - to make him watch you bounce up and down on your toy, giving him a show. watch him intently and you'll see rivulets of sweat trail down his chest as his dick bobs and twitches against his stomach at the lack of stimulation, his heated gaze feasting on the sight of your body with rapt attention. the part that makes his chest ache is your slightly needy and unsatisfied expression you try to hide - brahms knows for a fact that the silicone can't fill you the way he can. although he is more than happy with watching you get off mere feet infront of him, the agonizing thrum of his heartbeat in his cock and white crescents dug into his thighs are testament to how this scenario is effecting him. it's different to his voyeuristic endeavors behind the walls - if he had his way, he would've already busted a load onto the drywall and all over his fist at the sight of you

brahms is a massive fan of ruined orgasms - as long as you shush his yelps and whimpers while pressing kisses into his hairline and stroking his thighs, that is. he needs the comfort during and afterwards, but the raw experience altogether gives him an adrenaline rush

he is also a massive fan of cock milking - keep a small crystal bowl under his tip to catch all his milky cum. the visual of the aftermath, combined with the shaking of his thighs, nearly makes his vision black out with pleasure

brahms' movements are clumsy, and his hands shake from nervousness and reverence every time he touches you and he learns over time how to please and obey you perfectly, but he never shakes his little habit of rutting against you whenever you're nearby

the poor guy has years and years of pent-up sexual frustration and yearning - you are the perfect solution to all of his problems, so don't be surprised if he's selfish with his pleasure every so often

if you straddle him while cuddling and put his head to your chest, his brain fully stops working and all of his blood rushes to his cock. however, unlike every other time you're in a sexual position, his constant need to fuck you is delayed temporarily - he's torn between feeling comforted and extremely turned on, resulting in him being rock hard but comfortably lounging while you run your fingers through his hair. kiss him at your own pace, as he has no rush to be buried in your guts - just don't shift on top of him though, he'll snap out of it and remember what position you're both in :<

brahms has a life mission of reminding you that it's play time at all times of the day, attempting to coax you into letting him seek refuge between your thighs, no matter the situation - be it eating your ass from behind while you cook or caging you against the nearest bench while fucking your soft thighs

call him a pervert for watching you behind the walls and he'll turn bright red out of shame. do him a favour and ignore the bulge he fruitlessly tries to cover his huge bulge with trembling hands

he loves to give you head while you wake, your heavy musk is addictive to him. he's definitely not against you returning the favour the next day or fucking yourself on his morning wood after he's been humping you in his sleep. his favourite thing is to blink away his drowsiness while realising he's buried to the hilt in your tight warmth, pinching your nipples and moaning above him. hopefully you have nothing to do that morning, because the moment he cums, he will be immediately knocked out for another hour

brahms makes himself a little leather collar in his workshop - if you go into town and get an engraved pendant for him, he will go feral and not take it off for weeks :(

if he feels a bit worn out after a round or a mind-blowing orgasm, expect to feel his face nuzzle into the crook of your neck - especially when his softening cock still buried deep inside you. he loves to take a little nap in between rounds while you cockwarm him, it's just easier for your heartbeats to match pace :<

while brahms was in the walls, he had a habit of skulking around while other nannies were working - stroking his cock for a couple of minutes before going back to lounging in his bed or returning to shadow his carer, raging boner being unattended for a while before the whole cycle repeated. this results in him wandering around the house - with either his boxers tented or his bottom half nude, for easy access of course. you have to train him into the habit of wearing pants consistently. this little pattern of his also results in him initiating sexual situations with you - such as grinding, making out or dry humping - before disappearing into a wall in the middle of it, only to reappear a short while later to continue the interaction

he treasures anything you buy for him! what do you mean you got him a rose bouquet and a pretty butt plug with a shiny gem? ... a toy? for him?? he just wants to be loved and getting him any type of gift, especially sex toys, is the perfect way to ensure he knows he is loved and cared for. it validates his intense feelings of love and affection towards you

it's very important to remind him about alternating his clothes - the sour stench of sweat and musty air can cling to his older outfits, so getting him adjusted to wearing fresh clothing you picked out is beneficial to you both

brahmsy often helps himself to your bed and bedding, causing you to be pressed snugly to his lean body with the downy comforter wrapped securely around the two of you. if you're away from your room in the early morning, expect to return to a tall, snoring man bundled in all of you bed linen

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

brahms calls you daddy relentlessly, both in and out of the bedroom, but his cock jumps whenever you reply! the thrum of his heartbeat is palpable in his veins as his eyes glaze over and his reverent gaze trails over your body.

brahmsy begs you to fuck him whenever he's feeling subby, so be sure to let him bounce on your cock - the real reward is the hickeys you leave on his pale chest while he grinds down and clutches your head close to his chest

slap your cock on his hole :( his neck will be aching slightly from his insistence on maintaining eye contact with you as he begs for you to be inside him

if he has misbehaved and broken vases or trashed the house, make sure to skull-fuck him while he drools and whimpers at being used like a fleshlight. praise him for taking it so well but remind him why he's being punished as you stroke his hair, tip hitting the back of his throat. after he has swallowed your spend, pet his cheek and let him know how good he's been for taking it like the perfect boy he is

brahms is not small in size, not small in any capacity. sometimes his shirts ride up and flash his pale tummy. the trail of dark hair heading south below his waistband teases you every time he helps you with hanging out the clothes. the breeze ruffling your hair does nothing to sway your attention from daydreaming of what lies behind that thin material, below that soft treasure trail that points directly to his pretty cock. brahms is faring no better, as he's fully lost in his head and shooting distracted towards your figure. he's trying to not let his arousal show as he remembers the night before… and no, he is not listening to anything you're saying

never underestimate his drive to please you. he'll go until you're shooting blanks - choking and slobbering all over your length, laving the underside of your cock and toying with your veins. he'll keep bringing you to the edge in record time while he gets drunk off your musk and heady taste - his favourite part of taking you down his throat is the pulsing sensation of your cock as he swallows down your hot cum. he's only trying to please you!!

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

brahms calls you mommy relentlessly, both in and out of the bedroom, but his cock jumps whenever you reply! the thrum of his heartbeat is palpable in his veins as his eyes glaze over and his adoring gaze trails over your body

if he has misbehaved and broken vases or trashed the house, make sure to ride his face while he drools and whimpers at being used like a toy. praise him for taking it so well, but remind him why he's being punished as you stroke his hair, grinding down on his tongue. after he has lapped up your arousal, pet his cheek and let him know how good he's been for taking it like the perfect boy he is

brahms daydreams about your lip-gloss, all sticky at the base of his cock as your tight lips suckle around his sensitive tip

he's not small in size - not small in any capacity. whenever he's roaming the estate and you cross paths, the sight of his bulge in those worn grey sweatpants catches you off-guard every single time. the delicious curve of his shaft forms a beautiful indent in the fabric and it makes your mind go deliciously blank for a few moments. don't worry, he's not going to notice your doubletake because brahms is far too invested in staring at your bra strap peeking out from your shirt collar. his brain is full of static the moment he imagines you without your top on, teasing him with your gorgeous fuckin body as you slide down to your knees before him... hm? what were you saying? oh he was not paying attention, you're gonna have to repeat that twice as he wrenches his mind out of the gutter

brahms has a penchant for cumming with his tip pressed against your hole - he loves working you up with his tongue while stroking himself then, while he's about to cum, he pushes himself into you. that tad bit of resistance met against his tip is enough to make his balls tighten and cock spurt hot ropes

never underestimate his drive to please you. every night, his lips are more often than not attached to your sopping pussy, tongue laving your juices as he repeatedly brings you to the edge. he's not gonna stop until you're sticky and numb, until your clit is throbbing in protest - he nudges back the hood to admire your pretty bud, spittle and hot his breath cause you to throb under his tongue. he's obsessed with lapping up the arousal drooling out your cunt. he's only trying to please you!!

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

brahms calls you sir relentlessly, both in and out of the bedroom, but his cock jumps whenever you reply! the thrum of his heartbeat is palpable in his veins as his eyes glaze over and his devoted gaze trails over your body

he loves being able to have the hand of another man to teach him how to indulge in pleasure. the absolute mind-blowing rush he feels whenever he sinks into your tight heat rivals what he heard heaven was like, especially when you moan so loudly as he strokes your cock

whenever brahms is fucking you from behind, he has a habit of digging his fingers into your soft lower tummy, massaging his fingertips back and forth over his cockhead as he's buried balls deep. his eyes glaze over at the added pressure and drool dribbles onto your back as his jaw goes slack

if he has misbehaved and broken vases or trashed the house, make sure to fuck his face while he drools and whimpers at being used like a toy. praise him for taking it so well, but remind him why he's being punished as you stroke his hair, grinding down on his tongue. after he has lapped up your arousal, pet his cheek and let him know how good he's been for taking it like the perfect boy he is

brahms is not small in size - not small in any capacity, so sometimes his shirts ride up and flash his pale tummy. the trail of dark hair heading south below his waistband teases you every time he helps you with hanging out the clothes. the breeze ruffling your hair does nothing to sway your attention from daydreaming of what lies behind that thin material, below that soft treasure trail that points directly to his pretty cock. brahms is faring no better, as he's fully lost in his head and shooting distracted towards your figure. he's trying to not let his arousal show as brahms remembers the night before… and no, he is not listening to anything you're saying

never underestimate his drive to please you. every night, his lips are more often than not attached to your sopping tcock, tongue laving your juices as he repeatedly brings you to the edge. he's not gonna stop until you're sticky and numb, until your dick is throbbing in protest - he nudges back the hood to admire your pretty length, spittle and hot his breath cause you to throb under his tongue. he's obsessed with lapping up the arousal drooling out your boycunt. he's only trying to please you!!

_ _ _ _ _

mtf hcs

imagine his surprise when the pretty, sweet nanny has a bulge under her skirt just like his! his brain short-circuits when he realises you have similar bodies - he's able to transfer his knowledge of pleasure across to you. when he discovers what makes you tick, he practices on himself to get used to it and to hone his technique

he'll sew you a special set of lingerie, with hair bows to match. brahms is a craftsman at heart and nothing makes his heart swell more than watching you showcase his work. he'll fuck you in front of all the mirrors in the house - he wants to see you absolutely fall apart while you display his handiwork. brahmsy truly believes you have the beauty of an angel, that the greatest honour is to have you wear his creation proudly :(

if he has misbehaved and broken vases or trashed the house, make sure to skull-fuck him while he drools and whimpers at being used like a fleshlight. praise him for taking it so well, but remind him why he's being punished as you stroke his hair, tip hitting the back of his throat. after he has swallowed your spend, pet his cheek and let him know how good he's been for taking it like the perfect boy he is

he's not small in size - not small in any capacity. whenever he's roaming the estate and you cross paths outside, the sight of his bulge in those worn grey sweatpants catches you off-guard every single time. the delicious curve of his shaft forms a beautiful indent in the fabric and it makes your mind go deliciously blank for a few moments. don't worry, he's not going to notice your doubletake because brahms is far too invested in staring at your hard nipples making soft peaks in your shirt. his brain is full of static the moment he imagines you without your top on, teasing him with your gorgeous fuckin body as you slide down to your knees before him… hm? what were you saying? oh he was not paying attention, you're gonna have to repeat that twice as he wrenches his mind out of the gutter

never underestimate his drive to please you. he'll go until you're shooting blanks - choking and slobbering all over your length, laving the underside of your girlcock and toying with your veins. he'll keep bringing you to the edge in record time while he gets drunk off your musk and heady taste - his favourite part of taking you down his throat is the pulsing sensation as he swallows down your hot arousal. he's only trying to please you!!

_ _ _ _ _

fuck greta and by extension, fuck malcolm ig. this took a hot minute tbh. am cooking up some more stuff but might take a while.

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

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katsukiizmoon · 1 year ago

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╰┈➤ ꒰🍒 ┊Roll On Wax | Katsuki Bakugou꒱ 『♡』 F! Reader, domestic, reader is waxing coochie, established relationship, husband!katsuki, katsuki loves u so he helps lmao, unedited, one suggestive scene at the end 『♡』 I got a new wax roll on kit-- majority of my punani is smooth now. That's how.. this happened.

No because imagine you get a new roll on wax kit and get bold and decide to do your bikini line and coochie. And you're doing it, but holding the skin taut and yanking at the same time isn't a task for the weak.

Cue Katsuki walking in on you with your legs in a butterfly position, shirt in mouth to chew on, yanking strips of wax off of your crotch and thighs. He blinks momentarily, carmine eyes scanning you just to double check that he's really seeing this.

"What're you doin' now?" The blonde exasperates with a sigh, leaning against the bedroom doorway with furrowed brows.

You pause right before pulling off another strip and clamp your legs closed. Your face burns just about as much as the side of your crotch while you formulate a flustered answer.

"Waxing?"

His lips quirk up in amusement, tilting his head to look at where the strip is still stuck to your skin. "...and how's that workin' out for you?"

Katsuki's never been picky about the state of your pubic hair. Hair, no hair, shaven, waxed-- he doesn't really give a damn. Pussy is pussy. Call him a pussy connoisseur. But you wanted it waxed. Shaving has been a pain in the ass lately with all the ingrowns and razor burn you're getting.

"It's. Well it's going." Your hand gestures to the grocery bag of already-used strips and the heated wax roll on to the left of you.

Katsuki strolls forward languidly in his work pants and socks, huffing a little laugh at the sight in front of him. His brows furrow.

"Is it hard?"

"Mmm. Keeping the skin taut while I yank is... proving to be difficult."

Big hands reach for your thighs and you squeal, clamping them closed and pouting up at your husband. He looks confused at your embarrassment and rolls his eyes.

"Quit acting shy, y're pussy ain't anything new to me." His thumbs rub over the fat of your thighs again and slowly coax them open. Your hand reaches to cover up your face and he snorts.

"It's different when I'm waxing n' stuff!" You insist, feeling self conscious for the first time in a long time.

"I've seen you shave your asshole, it really isn't that different, sweetness." He chortles, cooing when you relax your thighs and gesture to the half-done wax job.

Your face never stops burning but you demonstrate and instruct how it's done. He frowns and holds up the wax strip to look at all the hairs and makes a comment on how weird it looks. He gets a smack to the shoulder for that.

He let's you do majority of the work but yanks a few of the hard to reach strips off, pressing the back of his hand to the red area to soothe you after.

"You shouldda just used my card and got it done at the salon." He pulls off the last strip and throws it away, giving you a little pat on the butt once he's finished.

The shower after goes smoothly for a little as you reward him for it in the form of a shoulder massage and kisses. His fingers trail down and slide toward your folds, dipping in momentarily, only for you to grip his wrist with a stern look.

"No sex for three days--"

"Goddamnit." A huff and sigh.

You lower down to your knees with a quirked brow. Ignoring the water hitting you in the face as he catches on and reaches for the roots of your hair with a grin.

#[ short ]#[ katsuki ]#[ drabbles ]#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader

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kanencrow · 4 months ago

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The Father who Stepped up - Shauna Shipman | One Shot

Summary: When Shauna gives birth to her baby boy, she finds herself designating you as 'the father who stepped up' after she experiences first-hand how nurturing you are to something so innocent and defenseless. It helps her simultaneously come to terms with the fact that she's a mother, and it also allows her to realize that she's actually kind of into you, too.

Warnings: Swearing, Suggestive Themes, Descriptions of Cannibalism, Talks of Jackie’s Death.

A/N: All characters are 18+ by default, and the reader is gender neutral (no pronouns were used). I'm tempted to do a part two that consists of more domestic stuff amongst you and Shauna because I don't think I added as much I could've in this one shot, but I'm not sure if anyone would want that, so let me know in my inbox!

Word Count: 10000+

It’s like clockwork for Shauna.

She wakes up every single night, at a time where the sun is completely gone, and the room she’s been cooped up in after giving birth is pitch black. Even the illumination of the moon doesn’t peek through the window, and so it only makes it more difficult for her to function when the almost habitual crying of her son sounds off the moment she preemptively wakes up. It’s gotten to a point where her body naturally rouses a few minutes before the baby starts to fuss – like it just knows that her time for sleep is going to get interrupted. It only makes her all the more frustrated and sad, because she values her rest, and she feels that no one wants to take the time to help her care for him.

Shauna’s sleep deprived and grumpy, even as she gathers her aching body and slowly gets up from the bed she’s practically been rotting on for the past few days. Bearing a child with a body that was weak from malnutrition and lack of water was far worse than any traumatic thing she had gone through in the past. So she can’t help the way she groans and whines while she walks over to the makeshift crib you and Van had put together using sticks, leaves, and rocks. It was a nice gift from the two of you, since it gave her a place to put the baby, just so there wasn’t that worry of rolling on top of him while she slept in bed.

And sure, it made her have to get up more than she wanted, but the thought of losing her son because she wasn’t careful was something that didn’t sit right in her chest. She’d been meaning to thank you and Van for the thoughtfulness, but both of you had been so busy with chores around the cabin – and she could barely walk as is – so it just made the entire task all the more difficult. But with the way neither one of you looked expectant in receiving that form of appreciation, there was a part of her that didn’t find herself rushing in trying to convey how she felt towards the gesture.

Using it was thanks in itself, right?

She expected the baby to start crying the moment she made it to said crib, but all she got as she rested her hands at the edge of the makeshift bed was complete and utter radio silence. She couldn’t ignore the way her heart jumps to her throat, a rush of anxiety coursing through her like a lightning bolt as the thought of him being dead enters her mind, and when she reaches down into the cradle – only to feel nothing but the blanket she laid out for him – it only forces her worry to skyrocket. Maybe she’s dreaming again, having some sort of nightmare about her boy dying, but she can feel the blanket – the soft fleece against her fingertips, so she knows she’s not asleep.

So, of course, that makes Shauna wonder. Where the fuck is her baby?

There’s that flash of an image that courses through her mind – a reminder of one of the night terrors she had in regards to her baby boy just a couple days ago. How she heard his screams and his cries, only to find him being used as everyone’s form of satiation. She remembers their blood smeared faces and red teeth as they chewed and chewed and chewed–

“Shauna?”

It’s like a bullet shoots through her back the moment she hears the softness of your voice fill the otherwise silent air of the cabin. It’s muffled at first, like she’s stuck in a bubble, but then her brain fully snaps out of the weird stupor she found herself in – the one full of fear and anxiety and distrust – and that’s when she suddenly recognizes the incoherent coo of her baby. You took him, she thinks to herself, and there’s a subtle emotion of anger and discontent towards that fact, but she also knows you – even if you haven’t talked to her nearly as much as the others have. Though even then, she knows that you wouldn’t do any of what her mind previously conjured up through dreams and intrusive thoughts.

That’s all it is. Her mind. Playing tricks on her.

Because you’re kind, you’re careful – gentle – and, even if she didn’t think so when she first woke up, you’re sure as hell one of the only people who’s put in a valiant effort in trying to help her. Both throughout her pregnancy, and even now. Unlike Lottie, who acted like the biological father and insisted that her own child was some sort of incoming prophet, that he was going to change everything. But then you just stuck around, acting as some sort of safety net for her when she needed someone or something to fall back on. Because after losing Jackie, everything felt broken, like a train had gone off the rails and there was no way of pushing it back on track.

But then you wiggled your way in, through soft words and empathetic or sympathetic glances, and she found herself letting you step through the tiny door of her heart. Because even though the thought of anyone seeing her as weak or incapable of taking care of herself made her want to recoil and die, she couldn’t deny that she needed it, and she couldn’t deny that she wanted you of all people to help her. And maybe that didn’t entirely sit well in her stomach for a good while – or even now, for that matter. That feeling of distrust towards everyone weighed her down, but you were insistent – in a good way, and so she found herself slowly getting over her own fear for the sake of eventually letting you in.

So she should have known you had taken him.

She forgot.

She could only blame that on her fatigue.

By the time Shauna turned around to look at you, the baby emitted a quiet coo, as his tiny hands reached up and grabbed at your fingers that you blindly wiggled down at him with your free limb. You were cradling him with your left arm, his head propped up by your bicep as he kicked his feet in the form of a stretch, but you were far more focused on the brunette before you, who looked completely distracted. It was hard to see her, but with the moon having peeked out from behind the trees it was once hiding behind, there was a slight glow on her face, which allowed you to take in the way she stood frozen in her stance and just�� stared at you and her kid.

The little baby in your arms was none the wiser, clearly in his element and content with using your fingers as his own personal form of entertainment. It helped you focus entirely on Shauna, though, when you tilted your head to the side slightly and spoke up, letting your voice break through the long-standing silence that almost suffocated the air. “You okay?” It was a simple question, but it held meaning, an intention, with the way your tone portrayed a genuineness to it. You were curious – maybe concerned, she wasn’t sure, but when you stepped forward slightly, trying to act as a form of comfort, it helped her confirm the fact that you weren’t putting on a facade, just to make her feel like she mattered.

You actually do think she matters.

She realized that, even with how slow her mind was being.

“I was looking for him,” Shauna managed to utter. The response was sudden, and it almost made you flinch with how she didn’t really try to whisper amongst the two of you. But you weren’t offended, or mad for that matter. Just surprised, if not a little endeared by her lack of thoughtfulness. Because you know she’s tired, and you know that if she was wide awake, she probably would have actually put in an effort in keeping her voice down for the sake of not waking anyone up, or rousing the boy in your arms into a state of panic. But luckily, he’s clueless, stuck in his own little world that consisted of him holding your fingers like they were joysticks to an atari.

“He’s right here,” you quietly assured, after a moment, as you settled your palm against his tiny belly and allowed him to lift your fingers up and down. He was so small, only about a week old, but for such a young little guy, he had been pretty responsive. “I noticed that you haven’t been getting any sleep ever since he came into the world,” you added on, shrugging your shoulders subtly, while Shauna shifted her eyes away from your own to stare down at the baby boy, who struggled to stay awake, as you bounced him slightly in your arms. His eyelids fluttered, and his stubby legs stretched out to hang off either side of your forearm, while you let out the softest huff you could muster, and continued. “I couldn’t sleep tonight, so I wanted to help.”

Shauna hears your words, and she quickly takes them to heart, which causes her brow to furrow in thought, before she lifts her brown eyes away from her son to look up at you instead. “You didn’t have to do that,” she told you, as though she were almost scolding you. But you could only shrug her off with a shake of your head, knowing that she was just saying that to make herself seem stronger. Which – she was strong – but she also didn’t have to be.

Not for this, at least.

“I wanted to,” you quietly mumbled, as you stepped closer to her and sent her a small smile through the darkness of the room. You weren’t even sure if she could see the expression on your face, but you didn’t seem to find it in you to care, when you maneuvered past her and lowered the already sleeping child back into the crib. It forced Shauna to turn her body and watch you, and as you cradled his head and guided it to rest on the little bump underneath the blanket you were laying him onto, it caused her stomach to unintentionally flutter.

She wasn’t surprised that you were so delicate with the boy. Still, it managed to push her into a state of awe, as you slipped your hands out from underneath his body and stood back up to your full height. Through the darkness, she could see the way you stared down at him, admiring the way he peacefully spread out across the blanket, like a little starfish. And his fingers curling into fists were enough to convey to you that he had fully fallen asleep. It meant that your work in helping Shauna rest was done, and as you nodded to yourself and stepped back from the crib to silently make your leave, the brunette ended up reaching out and grabbing a hold of your wrist.

It was surprising to her that you were thinking of leaving without saying anything, but after spending so many months with you in the wilderness, she guessed that she couldn’t be shocked. You’ve always been quiet, always kept to yourself and spoke to others only when they would speak to you. But that was a while back. Now you seemed a little more outgoing, but there was still a subtle shyness to you. Especially with the way you tensed slightly at her touch, and slowly turned around to look at her, as though you thought you were in trouble. However, you weren’t, and you seemed to recognize that when her fingers tightened slightly to squeeze your joint.

“Thank you,” Shauna stated, “really.”

You replied back with a simple nod and a sheepish smile. And that was when she let go of your wrist and allowed you to take a few steps towards the door and exit the room. And even then, you were as quiet as a mouse and mindful of the resting boy in the crib, and she couldn’t help but feel a certain type of way about you in turn.

It was a good feeling, though.

—————————————————————————

It was the crackling of the fireplace that acted as a form of ambiance to your mind, as you reclined along the window-side seat and stared out through the pane of glass. Your legs remained stretched out in front of you, socked feet moving mindlessly back and forth, while the incoherent murmurs of your teammates sounded off throughout the rest of the cabin, accompanying the resonation of wood crackling under intense heat. Snow fell from outside, coating the ground in even more of the white powder that had been nothing but unforgiving for the past two months, and you couldn’t help but wish for spring to come soon because of it.

There was a feeling that settled inside of your chest – intuition – that told you it was going to eventually melt away. Considering how often the sun had come out as of recent, it made sense. But for now, it was still cold, and you were more than happy to stay inside and admire the outer world from the comfort of the building you’ve been living in. Especially after spending the majority of the day doing chores, chopping wood that you took from the meat shed or shoveling the porch with the intention of keeping you and everyone else from being snowed in. Again.

Your cheeks felt frozen by the time you stepped back inside of the cabin, but at least the fireplace was roaring with life, and at least Misty was there to give you a hot cup of water. She always made sure to do her part, and whether it was by helping or speaking up to give some sort of logical statement towards a certain idea or discussion, you appreciated her… quirks and all. And, sure, you would have definitely preferred hot chocolate or tea when she did gift you the treat, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and so you found yourself feeling thankful either way.

“My god, can you just stop squirming, please?”

Mari’s voice managed to break out amongst the rest of the softer sounds that echoed throughout the cabin, and just from the frustration in her voice, you could tell that she was the one who had been tasked with taking care of the baby. Even after months of him being alive, Shauna still hadn’t named him, and a part of you was convinced she never would, with how her features always shifted into an expression of melancholy and deep, intense thought whenever she scrutinized the face of her child. You could understand that she was still trying to come to terms with the fact that she was a mom, and although you kept a respectful distance – not wanting to push anything or cross a boundary, you did want to help.

You had, in ways that consisted of making sure he didn’t keep her up at night with his crying. You were more than willing to deprive yourself of sleep for the sake of Shauna having her beauty rest, and it wasn’t like the little dude disliked you or anything. He always seemed happy to be in your arms when you paid him a late night visit and moved out of the brunette’s room to go and sit by the window bench. That spot always gave you front row seats to the moon and the way it shined through to act as his personal nightlight, and you cherished the moment, all while you slowly rocked him back to sleep with his head against your chest. But that was really the extent of your aid, other than feeding him or keeping an eye on him when no one else could.

But you did find yourself curious as to what Mari was doing. Especially with the way she huffed and puffed about the baby boy and his desire to wiggle like that of a worm. The thought of him giving her a hard time made you sneakily smirk to yourself as you swung your legs off the bench, and the moment you turned your body to look towards the kitchen, you stood up to your full height, all while your eyes caught sight of the girl trying to put a – poorly made – knitted hat on his head. You weren’t sure who made it, but it certainly didn’t look like something someone would wear. And if they did… they sure as hell wouldn’t be able to make it look good.

Even if it was on someone as cute as Shauna’s son.

He was sitting on the table, and with the way he let out a little whine and grumpily swung his arms up and down, you could tell that he didn't want the hat on his head. But Mari was incessant, muttering something about how it’ll keep him warm, and you could only roll your eyes, as you walked towards the kitchen and scrutinized the scene with an intention of saving the little boy from the girl’s control. Which seemed to go as well as it could, when she eventually lifted her focus away from him and looked at you instead, noticing your presence the moment the floor creaked beneath your feet. It didn’t take her long to let out a huff, before she picked up the baby by his waist and held him out to you as though he was some sort of toy.

“Here, take him,” Mari grumbled, “I can’t deal with it anymore.” Her patience was practically nonexistent, which wasn’t something you were ignorant to. You remembered the time where she almost strangled Travis because he wouldn’t stop complaining the first week you and everyone else crash-landed in the middle of the forest, so it wasn’t surprising that she was experiencing it in the current moment. Granted, you couldn’t necessarily blame her, but maybe she wasn’t the best person to rely on when it came to babysitting Shauna’s kid.

So, you were swift in reaching up and pulling the boy into the comfort of your arms, before you settled him onto your hip, and when he immediately rested his head onto your shoulder and tightened his fingers to ball up the fabric of your Wiskayok Yellowjackets hoodie, you felt your heart swell in your chest, discreetly relishing in the way he seemed so comfortable with you. Mari even seemed to don an expression of surprise herself – with a mixture of jealousy – too, when her eyes glanced down to look at the boy, who made a point to direct his attention somewhere else, as though he was holding a grudge against the girl in front of you.

Like mother, like son, you think.

It was kind of an amusing sight, and you found yourself huffing lightheartedly, as you cradled his butt with your limbs and spoke up. “I don’t think that hat fits him, by the way.” You gave her a teasing look, only to glance down at the child in your hold for the sake of making sure he was okay. And he was, with the way his eyes were now closed, all while he breathed contently against your collarbone and continued to grip the fabric of your hoodie like a lifeline.

“He was just being difficult,” Mari mumbled, seemingly ignoring your statement and deeming it as incorrect, while she folded her arms over her chest and moved her eyes down to look at the boy, too. “It would’ve fit if he just stopped moving.”

You found yourself humming at her words, but the sound was entirely mindless, “Whatever you say.” It wasn’t long before you turned your head away from her and took a moment to glance around the vicinity of the cramped cabin. There was an intent in the action, and when you didn’t find who you were subconsciously looking for, you allowed your eyes to fall back onto Mari, while you sent her a look of wonder. “Do you know where Shauna is?”

“Why?” Mari uttered, a certain glint of… something you couldn’t entirely decrypt suddenly forming in her brown eyes, but when the corner of her lip curled up into a smirk, it gave you the slightest inkling that she was finding your question comical. “Miss her?” And you came out to be correct, which made you immediately scoff at her question, and it only caused that small smile to break out into a grin on her cheeks, “What? Don’t act like you haven’t been trying to worm your way into her heart,” she said, “you’re almost worse than Lottie. With her whole ‘our baby’ thing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just trying to help her out,” you stated, as you bashfully lowered your eyes, pretending to be occupied with the baby in your arms, who continued to rest comfortably within them. “It’s not easy being a single mom, and I don’t think Lottie’s whole ‘your baby is the key to make the wilderness happy’ bit is really helpful, either,” you added on, as heat rose to your cheeks at the distant thought of being perceived as some sort of lap dog for Shauna. And, granted, your valiant effort to defend her definitely didn’t help your case, but you couldn’t help it, considering the fact that Lottie had been a little… off ever since the baby boy was born.

You weren’t unaware of the way she would just stare at you whenever you carried Shauna’s son. It was hard to understand if she was jealous of the sight, or if she had something on her mind and simply didn’t know how to address it. But maybe you were also overthinking it, and honestly, you couldn’t – and didn’t necessarily want to – bring yourself to think about it in the current moment, which caused you to quietly clear your throat, before you stepped back and gently hoisted the boy in your arms up to rest more comfortably on your hip. “Where’s Shauna?” you questioned again.

“I don’t know.” Mari shrugged, “Not here, clearly.”

Always the smartass, you thought to yourself, before you rolled your eyes and let out a heavy breath. It wasn’t long before you turned around and walked away from Mari, successfully deeming her as the most unhelpful person in the group, and you ultimately decided to search for Shauna on your own. The only place you could think she would be was the single bedroom within the cabin, and so you found yourself padding in that direction unconsciously, which caused the boy in your arms to tighten his grip on your hoodie, due to your movement. You weren’t even sure if she was going to be in there, but it was the only idea you had when it came to where she might have been, and so you went with the idea, secretly hoping you’d come out to be right.

The murmurs of the rest of the group ended up disappearing by the time you eventually turned the corner and made it to the door, and when you noticed it slightly ajar, you didn't think anything of it, as you pressed on and pushed it open. It creaked, signifying its age, and you winced, as you glanced down at the baby in your arms, hoping that the high-pitch resonation didn’t stir him from his slumber. You were thankful, though, when all you received in return was a tiny grunt from him that portrayed his unconscious state, and it quelled the worry of possibly waking him up. His features were still relaxed, stuck deep in dreamland while he slightly drooled on your hoodie, and with a small smile at the sight, you lifted your head up to look forward.

You immediately froze in your place when your eyes fell onto Shauna.

The last thing you expected to see was her back, which was covered in nothing but the strap of her charcoal-colored bra and showing off her pallid skin-tone that was complimented by the few freckles that adorned it. They scattered across the expanse of her flesh like stars in the sky, and your pupils naturally flickered back and forth to admire each one. It felt like you had been punched in the gut, with the way your breath silently hitched in your throat, and a weight of something you couldn’t describe settled within your stomach. It wasn’t a negative feeling by any means, but you couldn’t deny the way you felt like some sort of pervert for having waltzed in without so much as knocking.

You found yourself regretting your actions, though there was no way for you to rewind time or pretend like you had never stepped into the room to begin with. Especially when Shauna seemingly sensed your presence, as though she had some sort of sixth sense, and slowly turned her head to glance over her shoulder, peering at you with a form of curiosity in her brown eyes. You stood there, all the while, probably looking like an idiot, with the way you stared at her with a wide gaze and held her child in your arms stiffly. But you couldn’t find it in you to consciously assess how odd you might have come across. All you could do was stutter out some sort of apology, as you parted your lips and felt your stomach leap to your throat. “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to just – uh…”

Your voice trailed, and there was a certain air to Shauna’s demeanor that kept you from continuing, when you saw the ghost of an endeared smile fall onto her lips, before she turned back around and reached down to grab an old black band t-shirt that was tattered and had clearly seen better days. You remained idle in your spot, standing in front of the door as though you were a deer stuck in a pair of headlights, and as you dumbly watched the brunette pull the top over her head and allow it to fall down to cover her torso, there was a subtle feeling of disappointment that filled your chest.

But you attempted to ignore it, while you swallowed and waited for her to reply.

“Knocking exists, you know,” she uttered quietly, as she slowly turned around to completely face you, and lowered herself to sit down on the bed she had originally grabbed her shirt from. There was a subtle tone of lightheartedness in her voice, but you still felt embarrassment fill your body, as she gave you a tired, teasing look with her brown eyes and tilted her head to the side slightly. She clearly wasn’t offended by your intrusion, much to your own surprise, and that was when you found the ability to move your legs again, when you took a short step forward and bowed your head apologetically.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, “I should’ve…”

Shauna shook her head and shrugged, “It’s fine.”

You decided to keep your lips tightly wound after her response, pressing them together tightly, and you treaded carefully as you sluggishly walked further into the room. Your legs kicked out slightly as you moved, and your eyes flickered around to take in the vicinity that you had found yourself in far more than you probably should have. Ever the conversationalists, neither one of you knew what to say next. Should you have said, ‘hey, here’s your baby,’ as though you were some pizza delivery person? That probably wouldn’t have been a good idea, considering he wasn’t food. But you didn’t know what else to do, except sit down beside her and silently hand her the child…

But even then, that didn’t feel right.

“Is he sleeping?”

Shauna’s question broke through your muddled thoughts, and you found yourself immediately letting out a quiet breath of relief in turn, which was something you hoped she didn’t hear. When your eyes moved away from a random wall inside the room to meet her brown ones again, it didn’t seem like she picked up on the sound you made, when she simply stared at you with a certain type of earnestness that left you feeling warm inside. Her unwavering gaze after she inquired was enough to create a ball inside of your throat, and you found yourself trying to force it down with a swallow, as you slowly looked back down at the boy in your arms and nodded.

“Yeah,” you affirmed, “he is.” Your verbal confirmation was the last thing you said, before you eventually made it close to her bed and sat down beside her. The mattress barely dipped with how firm and old it was, but you could still see the way she faintly jostled from the added weight, out of the corner of your eye. You found yourself focusing entirely on her son, though, when you gently maneuvered him in your arms and cradled him like he was a week old again. He was still light, easy to hold without feeling as though your limbs were about to fall off, but his hair had grown in, and it was blond.

A dirty blond.

His eyes were brown, though, and his nose looked like it was going to develop into a shape like Shauna’s, the older he got. That cute, slightly imperfect bridge that you always admired whenever you caught sight of the brunette’s side profile. His round face and little lips looked just like hers as well, and you found yourself fascinated and almost amused at how he barely looked like Jeff. Even with the blond hair that hadn’t fully grown in yet and made the little boy look like an old man who was balding. It was surreal, in a way. How the girl beside you had managed to create such a beautiful soul through an ongoing situation that left all of you feeling hopeless and dreadful.

“I’m sorry.”

It was the words of Shauna again that tugged you out of your daydream. You found yourself blinking a few times, and when you slowly pulled your eyes away from her son to gaze at her, she was already staring at you, looking into your irises with her brown ones that the baby in your arms carried, too. You had to stop yourself from admiring other parts of her face for the sake of conveying to her that you were listening, and when you mindlessly creased your brow in confusion towards her apology, she took that as her chance to continue, as she scooted closer to you and flickered her focus down towards the child you were holding.

“I haven’t really been present,” she explained, clarifying herself, with a tone that conveyed shame, “for him.” You glanced down at her mouth for a split second, taking in the way that they were chapped and had dried-up blood on them, which you realized must have been from her anxiously nipping at her lips. Not only that, but it was also the winter, so you weren’t surprised, but even with the sight that didn’t necessarily look pleasant, you still found your stomach fluttering, before you shifted your attention back up to meet her gaze once again.

You inevitably shook your head, finding your voice, “It’s okay,” you whispered, “I know things have been… hard, for you.” It was difficult to know what to say to help her feel better, but you put in a valiant effort to tread lightly, which seemed to work in your favor, when she slowly deflated and decided to lean closer to you and lower her head against your shoulder. The heavy sigh she let out shortly after was enough to convey that she’d been needing some form of comfort, and although you tensed slightly, you let her have it, as you continued and glanced down at the baby in your arms. “It’s not easy having a kid and then being expected to take care of it after everything that’s happened.”

“I did it to myself,” Shauna mumbled, as she pressed her thigh against yours and mindlessly plucked at the fabric of her t-shirt, “I shouldn’t have meddled with my best friend's love life.” Even with being trapped in the wilderness, there was still a certain air of intelligence in the way she spoke, and you couldn’t help the way the corner of your lip curled up, as you slowly nodded your head in response to her statement. “Now I’m paying for it.” Her tone was dry, ultimately, and you weren't sure if it was because of the fact that she didn’t have it in her to be sad about what happened, or if she was simply angry at herself now, for what she did.

“At least he doesn’t look like Jeff,” you replied quietly, trying to lighten the mood in your own way, which caused Shauna to scoff dryly, as she pressed her cheek deeper into your shoulder and stared down at the sleeping boy in your arms. “Clearly your genes are stronger.”

The conversation lulled slightly, but you weren’t surprised, when Shauna silently reached her hand out and wiped her thumb over the corner of her baby’s mouth. Dried spit, you realized, was what she was trying to make disappear, and it reminded you of the little stain you had on your hoodie from his drool, which created an emotion of amusement that fluttered through your chest as you watched her gently tend to her kid. It wasn’t a common occurrence. It was like she was scared to touch him, or hold him, or even be in a room alone with him. But at the same time, she was equally protective. She had mixed feelings, obviously, and you had a feeling as to why that was.

And you didn’t want to bring it up.

But it was nice to see her attentiveness, even if it was something that was short-lived, when she inevitably pulled her hand back from his face, and let it fall onto her lap. “I haven’t even named him,” she suddenly stated, and when you turned your head slightly to look down at her, she pulled her cheek away from your shoulder and sat back up to stare down at the floor between her legs. “I don’t even know how to be a mom,” she added on, and you frowned faintly, before you slowly stood up to your full height and ambled over to the boys’ crib, letting her words drift off into the air, while you settled him against the makeshift bed you and Van created for him, and tucked him under a shirt that acted as a blanket for his small body.

“No one does at first,” you eventually replied, pulling your hands away from him, before you stepped back from the crib and turned around to look at Shauna, who bounced her knee up and down anxiously, not meeting your gaze. “No one gives you a rule book on how to be a parent, Shauna,” you reminded her, “it’s not easy… but that’s why we’re here–”

“You.”

Shauna’s mumble cut you off, and you paused to scrutinize her, “What?”

“You’re here,” she said, as she slowly lifted her head up to meet your eyes, “not them.” Your features faintly flinched in surprise, and when you shifted in your stance and shoved your hands into the pockets of your pajama pants that were just as tattered as all your other clothes, she continued. “You’ve been the only one who’s, like… actually helped me ever since I had him,” she explained, “I mean, other than Van, who helped make the crib with you, you’ve been here to take care of him, while I’ve just…” her voice trailed off, and she shrugged her shoulders, clearly at a loss for what else to say.

“You’ve got other stuff to deal with,” you uttered, trying to defend her from herself.

But Shauna shook her head, while you slowly trailed back towards the bed and watched her intently. “Like wallowing and resenting my own child who hasn’t done anything to deserve it?” You let out a deep breath when you turned around and lowered yourself to sit down beside her, and as your brow creased into a look of thought, she felt her eyes sting with unshed tears. “I’ve been the worst mom – you’re more of a parent than I am–”

“Shauna, stop,” you stated, shaking your head, before you looked at her and watched the way she pulled her face out of her hands and sighed shakily, “you’re not a bad mom,” you told her, “I mean… it’s normal to feel like shit after giving birth,” you added on, with the intention of making her feel less guilty, “postpartum depression is a thing, and you’re probably dealing with that on top of… y’know.” Shauna’s brow furrowed at your words, and when she shifted her brown eyes to meet yours, you could tell she was confused by how you knew that, which caused you to quickly clarify, as you shrugged. “I paid attention in health class.”

“Of course you did,” Shauna laughed out, her voice thick with emotion, as she shook her head and smiled sadly at your words. You chuckled quietly in response to her reaction, feeling a sense of pride swell in your chest towards the fact that you made her giggle, but when she sniffled and glanced down to stare at a certain spot on your face, you felt your heart leap to your throat. “How come we never really talked… before all of this?” she questioned suddenly, as her pupils fluttered back up to meet your gaze, not allowing you the chance to truly dwell on the subtle action, “We were on the same team, yet we barely ever spoke to each other.”

“Was kinda intimidated by you, actually,” you mumbled sheepishly, which caused her to give you an expression of disbelief, clearly unable to understand what might have been so scary about her. And it caused you to shrug your shoulders, as you shyly turned your head away and stared down at your lap, suddenly feeling small. Like you were exposed entirely. “I don’t know… I always wanted to talk to you, but I just… couldn’t?” You pursed your lips and pressed your palms together, and when you intertwined your fingers, you felt your cheeks heat up as you breathed in deeply and confessed through an exhale, “Guess I was just too scared to talk to a girl that I thought was pretty.”

At your words, Shauna could only stare at you, her brown eyes focusing on the defined features of your side profile and the way you clenched your jaw tightly out of nervousness, as you stared contemplatively at the floor. Your nostrils flared with a breath, and her heart thudded against her ribcage once that only signified the way your words made her feel. It was a random beat at first, but then it happened again, and again, and again. It cemented her feelings – the way you had secretly made her feel over the span of two months hitting her like an unforgiving truck, and it caused her to swallow thickly, as she broke her focus away from your face and gazed down at your hands instead.

She wasn’t sure what to say, and it was obvious that the silence that ensued wasn’t one that made either one of you feel comfortable. You shifted awkwardly in your spot, your face feeling flush, while Shauna lost herself in her own mind and continued to stare down at your interwoven fingers. It felt as though you were sixteen again, dealing with your first crush and experiencing mental gymnastics when it came to how you were going to confess that you liked the person you had eyes for. And granted, you were older now, but after spending… however many months in the wilderness, it felt like your social skills had vanished, and you were left ignorant again.

As well as a fool that had no grasp on how to say, ‘I like you’ to a cute girl.

It felt like hours had passed – when in actuality it was a minute, before you eventually cleared your throat awkwardly and lifted your chin to allow your eyes to shift away from the floor and towards Shauna’s instead. Your lips parted, as if to try and say something – or to defend yourself for what you had already stated – but nothing came out. And while the brunette seemed to find herself frozen in the way she continued to gaze down at your tense hands, you studied her expression, noticing how her features were taut with contemplation and something deeper, but indecipherable.

“I’m sorry.”

You suddenly apologized, without thinking, and when your voice – soft throughout the air – broke through the clouded thoughts of Shauna’s mind, that was when she blinked and jolted back into reality. Her brown eyes snapped up to your face, feeling them sting with unshed tears, and your brow furrowed to express your genuine guilt for making her feel uncomfortable. But she wasn’t uncomfortable. She was just… shocked. And confused. Because she had always been used to being second best, or stuck in the shadow of someone who was deemed as far more important than she ever could be. But even when Jackie was alive and she was actively experiencing the woes of being ‘the sidekick’ and ‘just the best friend,’ you still noticed her.

Still saw her as Shauna Shipman.

Not Jackie’s best friend.

And it made her angry that you waited so fucking long to say something.

To give her any sort of idea that you liked her.

Maybe it was the postpartum hormones that made Shauna swell with a mixture of frustration and sadness, or maybe it was just her, and it had nothing to do with the after effects of her giving birth. Either way, you saw a tear slip from the corner of her brown eye, and she could feel the salty droplet and the way it streaked down her cheek in an almost poetically depressing way. It only caused your breath to hitch in your throat, the guilt in your chest increasing drastically, and when you tried to reach your hand up to wipe away the stain, she grabbed your wrist, halting your movement, just as your fingers grazed over the skin of her face.

“Shit, I’m sorry–”

Ever the apologist, Shauna cut you off before you could complete your sentence, when she pushed your wrist down to pin it against your lap and suddenly leaned forward to press her lips against your own. The action was done with a swiftness that left your mind reeling and your body tensing as your body leaned back slightly, but when she unconsciously squeezed your joint that she held onto like a lifeline, you snapped out of your shock. The roughness of her mouth – chapped and dry – against your own, wasn’t unwanted. Especially not when you had been wanting to kiss her for the past year and a half. So it only made sense to relax into it, when you breathed out through your nose and allowed your eyes to flutter shut.

You promptly followed her lead, creating a game that consisted of her pushing and you pulling, as your lips parted to slot together like a perfect puzzle piece. Her grip tightened on your joint all the more, and although her fingernails lightly dug into your skin, it wasn’t enough to get you to move away from her. If anything, it urged you closer to her, when you reached up with your free hand and cupped her cheek. Your mouths moved together, quiet sounds of them smacking together intermixing with the soft breaths that the two of you let out, and before you could even realize what was happening, you were being pushed back against the firm mattress, which allowed her to pin your wrist she grasped above your head, while your other palm fell away from her face to rest against your stomach.

Shauna pulled her lips away from you in that same moment, and when you let out a quiet pant and fluttered your eyes open, she was already looking down at you with a certain emotion in her brown irises. You weren’t sure what it meant, but with how hazy your mind felt, and with how quick your heart thumped inside of your chest, you couldn’t bring yourself to grow concerned. Especially not with the way she loomed over you, and allowed her fingers to finally loosen around your wrist. Your focus shifted in turn, to watch her as she slid them up and over your palm, before they curled between your own and eventually intertwined in a way that felt like a perfect fit.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” you mumbled, after a moment, as your eyes shifted back to meet the brunette’s. But Shauna could only shake her head dismissively, not wanting to talk about feelings, before she leaned down and pressed her lips against yours once again.

You immediately reciprocated that time, no longer hesitant to succumb to the concept of loving her, and when you happily hummed against her mouth, she felt her stomach flip, as a weight of tension slipped off of her shoulders.

Just like water.

—————————————————————————

There was something oddly therapeutic about the sounds of a baby giggling. The belly laughs that were infectious and left anyone who heard them grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. That may or may not have been you in the current moment, as you watched as Shauna blew raspberries into her boys’ belly from where he laid on her bed. His arms and legs swung back and forth to signify just how ticklish her actions had made him, and you felt your heart swell with affection towards the two, while you watched her pull herself up to look down at him with an expression on her face that conveyed nothing but admiration and love towards the child.

She named him Jackson.

Because although she had her own personal qualms about Jackie, the thought of forgetting her like a distant memory wasn’t something Shauna could ever fathom, and you couldn’t blame her for it. You remembered having the conversation with her, shortly after you and her started dating, and you were all for it, because you knew how much she loved her best friend, even if the last time they spoke didn’t end on the best terms. She saw it as a form of an apology, in her own way. And although you didn’t fully understand – not nearly as well as she did – you went along with it, because it was her choice in the end, and there was no way in hell you were going to control what she did.

Besides, Jackson was a cute name.

It fit him.

You snapped back into reality when a little fist smacked against your cheek, and you were quick to jolt back slightly, as you blinked and looked down at Jackson, who clearly wasn’t aware of what he had just done. He was far too focused on Shauna tickling his sides teasingly, and when he let out a high-pitch squeal as she picked him up, you chuckled softly, before your eyes flickered up to look at your girlfriend, who seemed a lot happier than two months ago, when you shared your first kiss with her. There was a certain glow to her. One that radiated from under all the dirt and grime that seemed to stain her face, even after washing it with water at the lake just an hour ago, and it made you happy in turn.

She would never fully heal, you knew that. None of you would, realistically… once you all got out of this mess. But at least she was searching for the good in things now, trying to actively find optimism, rather than the pessimism she had been so used to embodying. And you were well aware that she would always be Shauna. The girl who didn’t get as excited over the things that you or other people would. Or the girl who found far more enjoyment in staying in and reading a book, rather than going out and mingling with people at a party she didn’t truly want to attend. Hell, even now, stuck in the wilderness, she acted like a ghost who occasionally payed the rest of the cabin a visit.

But it wasn’t a bad thing.

It would never be a bad thing.

“Hey. Earth to Y/n?”

You blinked back into reality the moment Shauna’s voice broke through the fog of your mind, and you quickly realized that your eyes had fallen back down without you knowing, which ended in you intensely staring at the spot Jackson had once been laying. All that sat there now was a vacant spot, and it left the brunette feeling slightly worried. Especially with the way your gaze sat unwavering, simply focused down at the sheets, as though they were the most interesting thing in the world to you. It was obvious enough to you that she had put her son down to rest for the remainder of the day, and as you let out a quiet exhale through your nose and flickered your eyes up to meet your girlfriend’s, you rolled over onto your back and raised your brow in silent questioning.

“Hm?” You attempted to play off your daydream with a lackadaisical demeanor, but when Shauna scrunched her features up in both perplexity and concern, you knew you had failed miserably. Her brown eyes practically bored into yours, and you couldn’t bring yourself to avert your gaze, as you watched her move and sit back down on the mattress, before she clasped her hands together, so that they could rest comfortably in her lap, and gave you a certain look.

“What do you mean, ‘hm’?” she teased lightly with a smirk, as she shook her head in amusement towards your poor ability to play off your bout of distraction. She crossed her legs over the other in that same moment, and when you shrugged your shoulders and sluggishly pushed yourself up into a sitting position, she tilted her head to the side and sent you an expression that conveyed nothing but genuine curiosity. “What were you doing?” she asked, while you stared at her silently, like someone who had been caught doing something they shouldn’t have.

“Just thinkin’,” you admitted, giving her another shrug, as the corners of your lips quirked up faintly. Shauna only rolled her eyes at your simple statement, and when you let out a quiet huff in response, she used your reaction as proof that you were okay.

Though, even then, your vague explanation gave her the excuse to scoot closer to you, and you found yourself mindlessly leaning into her, as she reached her hand up to cup your cheek. “About what?” She gently rubbed the pad of her calloused thumb over the skin that sat underneath your eye, the touch almost featherlight in the way it felt against you. And you pressed into the feeling, almost melting against the warmth of her palm that cradled the side of your face, which caused her to smile softly in turn, finding satisfaction in how comfortable you were to her affection.

“You,” you eventually replied, before you raised a hand up and curled your fingers around her wrist, “and Jackson.” You gently held the joint in your grasp and turned your head slightly to press your lips against the heel of her palm, “Thinking about how so much has changed. In a good way.” You tugged it away from your face to bring that part of her body down into your lap, and she felt her heart warm, the moment you moved your thumb across the lines that decorated her limb. “I’m happy that you’re both here… that I’m with the two of you,” you mumbled, your voice coming out as a quiet whisper, as you lowered your chin to gaze down at what you were doing.

Your introspective thoughts about Shauna and Jackson weren’t uncommon, and she knew that, considering the fact that you often found yourself daydreaming when it came to her and her son. How you would stare, and stare, and stare, until she’d eventually notice and snap you out of it with a question. Hell, sometimes your mind buzzed so much to the point where you would wake up in the middle of the night and head outside to sit on the porch. And then you would just… think, about her, or Jackson, or about your teammates that also resided in the cabin. And it was all while you listened to the randomly occurring sounds of owls hooting, or birds flapping their wings and rustling the leaves that they hid within.

“You always have a habit of becoming sappy after we put Jackson to bed,” Shauna uttered suddenly, as she glanced down at your fingers, and watched the way they continued to trace over the lines of her palm. “You know that, right?” You simply shrugged your shoulders, feeling the corner of your lip curve up into a soft, innocent smirk that was entirely mindless, and it caused a quiet huff of endearment to slip from the brunette, before she scooted closer to you – her knee pressing against your thigh – and used her free hand to pinch your chin with her index and thumb, as she slowly tugged your focus up to meet her own once again.

“I can’t help it,” you replied softly, the moment you met her gaze, smiling a little brighter. The brunette flickered her brown eyes between your own, clearly stuck in a bout of admiration towards the way the color of your irises fit the different contours and features of your face perfectly, and your only form of defense consisted of you shrugging – again – as you pressed your lips together tightly. “It’s not my fault you’re you and he’s him.” It was clear she didn’t know what you meant by those words, with the way her brow faintly creased in reaction to your statement, but she couldn’t bring herself to question you.

She found your form of affection too endearing to try and deconstruct it.

With Shauna still pinching the bottom of your chin, you remained frozen in your spot, staring at her intently and with a certain glint of softness shining in your eyes. “You’re a dork,” she found herself pointing out, and you immediately brightened in reply, when she let out a loving chuckle and tugged you forward slightly, just so she could press her mouth to your own. Her sound of amusement died down the moment the tip of your nose brushed against her own, and when she tipped her head up slightly to graze her lips over your own, her eyelids fluttering, that was when you pushed in and kissed her, making the connection.

There wasn’t a feeling of anxiety or nervousness that filled your chest, as your hand slowly came up to cradle the side of her neck. It wasn’t like the first time you kissed her. Wasn’t a moment full of uncertain movement and uncoordinated positions that left the two of you huffing out embarrassed laughs and flushing with heat. There was intent and fluidity that went into it now, but even if you and her still acted like you had never shared a peck before, you still would have enjoyed the moment either way. But maybe you were also appreciative of the fact that you didn’t feel like you were going to explode anymore, just from feeling her against you.

With the way you were positioned on the bed, it wasn’t difficult for Shauna to shift onto her knees and use one of her hands to press it against your hip bone. Her other limb cradled your face tenderly, her touch possessive but equally gentle, and the moment your back fell against the mattress, and your head was suddenly cradled by the pillow, that was when her lips fell away from you. With a panting breath, your eyes fluttered open and stared up at her to see her own brown irises gazing down at you already, but before you could say anything to her, she was already leaning down – disappearing from your line of vision – to peck the side of your neck.

There was intention in the action, and it made you flush with heat, as she nestled herself between your legs and pressed her palms against your hips to keep herself from falling on top of you. Your eyelids fluttered when you felt the heat of her breath against the skin of your jaw, and as she kissed the line of it, just underneath your ear, your voice broke through the silence, as your head lulled to the side to stare towards the door of the room, which was already closed and providing the two of you with privacy. “What if someone comes in?” you questioned weakly, your voice lacking its usual confidence, as Shauna moved her hand down slightly and slipped her fingers underneath your shirt.

“Everyone’s outside enjoying the sun,” she mumbled against your flesh, while you tensed up and let out a shaky breath as she smoothed her fingers up your stomach. You ultimately moved past the possibility of anyone barging into the room, even if her words didn’t fully convince you, but when her nails lightly tickled your skin, you couldn’t stop the quiet giggle that slipped from your lips, as your hand shot down to grab her forearm.

Shauna let out a huff at your action, and you weren’t sure if it was out of annoyance or amusement. But when she nipped at your earlobe with her teeth and curled her fingers to continue lightly grazing her nails over the skin of your belly, you could tell she was simply trying to spur you on in the way you originally reacted. And it seemed to work in her favor, when you tightened your grip on her forearm and let out a quiet grunt that did nothing but convey your displeasure and sensitivity towards her teasing.

“Shauna,” you groaned quietly, pushing at her limb.

But she didn’t budge, and she only moved her hand to hold your side instead, as she leaned back slightly to gaze down at you, her dilated pupils locking with yours. “What?” she asked, though you knew the question was entirely rhetorical, when you noticed the ghost of a smirk form on her lips, “I’m not doing anything.” Her faux innocence made you roll your eyes, and she chuckled in turn, finding your attitude comical to her, before she hunkered down to kiss the bone of your cheek, as her hand that lingered on your waist suddenly smoothed lower to tease at the waistband of your shorts.

Her movements still managed to make you squirm, the action ticklish to you, though you also couldn’t deny the way it made your heart speed up, while she watched your expression intently. She searched for any sort of visible response from you, as she hooked her fingers over the elastic, and with the way your eyes flitted to meet her brown ones, it was easy to see the way your features shifted into a look of subtle surprise, the moment you felt the featherlight touch of her fingers graze over the band of your underwear.

“I’ll go slow–”

“Guys! Guys!”

At the sudden voice, which erupted throughout the cabin like an annoying alarm, Shauna’s hand jolted out of your pants as though she had been burned with fire, while you sucked in a sharp breath and snapped your focus towards the door. It opened just as your girlfriend leaned back on her heels with an almost frustrated huff slipping from her lips, and while you propped yourself up onto your elbows, you saw the figure of Van peek through the gap they had created.

Their eyes were as wide as saucers, and their expression was the brightest you had ever seen since you all became trapped in the wilderness. It made your brow furrow in turn, while the brunette stared at them with an unimpressed expression on her features, clearly unhappy towards the fact that the moment had been ruined between you and her. “What, Van?”

You snorted quietly at Shauna’s perturbed response, and Van completely ignored it, when they grinned widely and frantically glanced between the two of you with a glint of excitement in their blue eyes. “Nat waved down a fucking helicopter.” Their words were enough to make your face scrunch up in confusion, almost not believing them, and when you pushed yourself up into a sitting position and narrowed your eyes at the goalkeeper, they didn’t even give you the chance to ask what they meant, when they answered the question for you.

“They found us, guys,” Van stated, clarifying themself, “we can finally get out of here.”

This took me way too long to finish.

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets #shauna shipman x reader

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hells-wasabii · 1 year ago

Note

Haii can i get general fluff of Valentino being soft with his wife s/o.

A/N: absolutely! i'm a sucker for domestic stuff! I kinda defaulted to a headcanon format, but i think you'll still enjoy it anon! if you'd like a drabble tho, don't hesitate to ask!

Part 1 | Part 2

Character: Valentino

Type: Headcanons (Val x wife! s/o, Fluff)

Valentino is a demon who's in tune with his emotions, too much so depending on who you ask. This of course translates into his marriage with you. He's definitely not afraid to let you know how deeply his affection for you runs.

You'd best believe this man has nicknames for you: some in English, some in Spanish, all with love. I can also guarantee you he's called you wifey, too. He most definitely considers himself to be the king of the porn industry, which makes you his queen. And you'd best believe he lets you know it too.

Being in a position of power like his, it requires him to be hardened with all those he associates with, employees and fellow overlords alike. So many souls looking to take advantage of any sign of weakness. The fact that he can go home to you and the afterlife that you've built together, to be able to just decompress and be soft with you means more to him than he'll likely admit. This in turn means that he'll also be pouty and put on a woe-is-me act, especially if you're busy when he gets home.

On especially bad days when he's on a rampage/tirade after letting his emotions get the better of him, don't be surprised to get a call from Vox or Velvette, or both. It's quite amazing how easily you're able to calm him down, so much so that I'd dare to say it actually frightens the other Vee's to a degree.

When it comes to cuddling he prefers to be big spoon, mostly due to his wings. You even touching his wings is something that would take years to build up to. Moths can't have their wings tampered with otherwise they might not be able to use them anymore. This takes a LOT of trust from Val. On extra special occasions when you cuddle he loves to wrap his arms around you and just hold you close, cocooning the both of you in his wings.

On the topic of physical affection, when he's with you there's a solid 83% chance that he's touching you in some form or fashion. A hand grazing you as he reaches past you, honestly even just hovering. He's very touchy-feely. It only got worse after you two tied the knot.

He also flaunts the fact that you're married. Not a whole lot of Sinner Demons can say that, can they? He doesn't think so at least, but then again he doesn't really care enough to check. He's so proud to have you and why wouldn't he be? He'll go out of his way to introduce you/talk about you to others. "Oh, by the way. have you met my WIFE? Fabulous, isn't she?" Vox and Velvette who take the brunt of the flauntings are just looking at him like: yes Val, this is the second time we've gone through this today.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #valentino #request

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awkness · 7 months ago

Text

Serial killer! Platonic! Yandere Older Brother & Genderneutral Teenage Reader (Part 2)

(Part 1) (Part 3)

As reader tries to adjust to their new life without their father, a number of concerning incidents occur, including off-putting behavior from your brother, prevents that from happening. But despite everything, you make a new friend. Surely, this can only mean good things for you, right? Things must be looking up!

Content warnings: implied murder, manipulation, domestic abuse, briefly mentioned alcoholism and child abuse, and general yandere shenanigans. If I missed anything here, please let me know :3

Authors note: lmao I have no excuse for being this late I'm just slow. This was originally supposed to be the last chapter but it got too long so I had to split it up. It feels like a bit of filler but I promise we'll get to the good stuff soon it just needs some set up. Part 3 should be the last part so I'll try not to be too slow uploading (<- lying)

There were very few things about your father you liked, but his house was one of them. It was something he had inherited from his father, who Ben would inherit as soon your father could be pronounced legally dead. It came with a master bedroom, two normal bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, a kitchen, the basement, and an attic.

The attic was something you had always been fascinated with as a child. It was spacious, fully insulated and even had an openable window. It could have been a bedroom all on its own. As a child, you had often daydreamed of moving your stuff up there, utilizing the bigger space for blanket forts and storing all the toys your little heart could desire. In reality, it was used in the same way the basement was, except it stored much more valuable items. Holiday decorations, clothes, old valuables that had no room to be displayed, and whatever family heirlooms your late father kept were shoved up above your head, taking space that could have been used for you. You had thought you had grown out of this fantasy, content with the room you had, but with your father gone and your brother running the house, the childhood dream had crept its way back into the front of your mind, tempting you with visions of a bigger, cooler room.

So, after working up the courage, you finally asked Ben if you could move up there. It surprised you just how easily he said yes.

And now you're here, Ben helping you sort through trash and treasure alike as you both clear out the room.

You pulled an unlabeled box from the seemingly endless pile, the top covered in dust and cobwebs. You try not to think about how many spiders are in the room with you now. Cleaning them out will be a trouble for another day.

The box opens easily, cardboard weak from age, a musty smell emanating from within. You look inside, only to be left dumbfounded. Why were there women's clothes in here?

"Hey, Ben, do you know whose clothes these are?"

Ben looks up from his own box, a vaguely confused look on his face. As he makes his way towards your box, you watch it drop into a frown.

"Those are moms."

"Oh." Is all you can say.

An awkward moment passes between you two as Ben stares into the box, face strange as he becomes lost in thought. You decide to break the tension.

"Why do you think he kept them?"

He looks away from the box and towards you, his body slowly beginning to relax.

"He was always a sentimental man, I guess that's reason enough for him."

You let out a snort. "What's there to be sentimental over? She cheated on him, divorced him, and then dumped us on him. She's not exactly a woman worth pining over."

"I'm not arguing with you, but you remember how he was. Couldn't ever let anything go."

He began rummaging through it, quickly getting to the bottom before closing it back up.

"Nothing but clothes. We should probably donate this."

You give a nod as you watch him put it in the growing donation pile. That was going to be such a pain to bring down to the car.

Instead of thinking about that, though, you turn your head to the box that Ben was searching through before you called him over.

"Is this one mom's too?"

Before you get an answer, you take a peek inside, only to once again be at a loss for how something like this could be in your home.

Inside was an assortment of strange objects. A broken polaroid camera, a stained photo album, and an array of metal objects like locks, deadbolts, and... were those shackles?

Before you could make out any more objects, Ben had made his way to you and reached over to close the flaps of the box.

"I doubt it, probably just more junk he couldn't throw away."

He turned around to you and smiled, hands holding the flaps shut.

"Want to do me a favor and go start bringing the donation boxes to the car?"

"Ugh, why do I have to bring them down?"

"Because you're the one who wanted to move up here."

You glared at him as his smile turned into an amused smirk, before you finally gave a huff and picked up a box from the pile.

"Jerk."

"Brat." The smile never left his face.

With only moderate trouble, you navigated your way down the stairs and out the door, making your way to the car. Unfortunately, you had only realized you forgot the keys when you tried to open the door to pop the trunk open.

You quietly mumble curses under your breath as you set the box next to the car, ready to make the trip back inside. Instead, you go completely still as you catch a look at the people across the street.

It was a small group of high schoolers your age, maybe older, who go to your school. They were standing the the yard across the street, a few houses down, talking together to throwing glances in your direction. Your ears strain as they try to make out their incoherent babble. They couldn't have known about your situation, could they? Or at least, what the official story was. It had been over a month since that happened, it doesn't make sense that they would be talking about it now. But you were just moving boxes out of the house such a short time after it happened. That looks suspicious, doesn't it? Of course it does. Why did you have to ask to move into the attic now?

You had been standing like a deer in headlights, openly staring for what felt like minutes before one of them seemingly made eye contact with you. You avert your gaze down as you feel your cheeks grow hot and your hands grow sweaty. A chorus of laughter erupts from the group.

Without thinking, you rush up to the door, fling it open, and slam directly into Ben as he was carrying. You hear it hit the floor as you speed walk past him.

"Wha- Hey! (Y/N)! What happened?"

You didn't reply. You barely even heard his words. Panic had fully taken over and kept you moving away from Ben, away from the door, away from the outside world, and all the judgemental people it contained.

You finally make it to your room, shutting the door behind you, and seating yourself on your bed, trying to get your bearings.

Tears begin stinging your eyes as your shaky hands try and wipe them away. You wonder if they were still laughing at you.

A soft knock comes from your door, and your body shrinks inward, unprepared for the upcoming talk.

"Kid? Can I come in?"

You don't reply. You know Ben is going to come in anyway.

He waits a beat before opening the door, his face the picture of concern. His footsteps are quiet, and his movements gentle as he sits next to you. You find your body leaning away from him.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

You shrug, turning your head away from him. Even if you did want to talk, you couldn't trust your voice right now.

"Alright, that's fine, we can figure it out together. Was it something to do with mom's clothes?"

You don't move. Maybe if you don't answer, he'll leave and let you deal with your embarrassment in peace.

"The attic?"

A pause.

"Something in the box you were carrying...? Or maybe something outside?"

You stiffen, and immediately try to make yourself relax. Maybe he didn't notice?

"Does this have something to do with the neighbors?"

Oh. Nevermind.

Despite your best efforts, your body language must have given you away again. You hear the bed creak as he gets up, the blinds rustling a moment later as he gives a huff.

"It's those kids across the street, isn't it?" His voice takes on an edge of irritation, and you feel yourself curl inwards again.

The bed shifts as he takes his seat next to you again, a comforting hand placed on your shoulder. His voice takes on the softer quality it had before.

"I can't help you if you don't help me, kid. Did they talk to you?"

You shake your head, trying to talk, but finding the words stuck in your throat.

"They-" Your voice falters and you clear your throat, barely able to speak above a whisper.

"They didn't have to. I could see them looking at me and laughing, I knew they were talking about me, just like all the neighbors do whenever they see us. It's like they know. And these-"

You sniff, snot beginning to run and throat burning as you talk. Ben squeezes your shoulder, and you continue.

"These people go to my school, Ben. They know me. When I have to go back, they'll talk and tell everyone and the whole school will know what happened. They'll treat me different, they'll ask questions, and I won't know what to tell them-"

Your quivering voice finally gives out, and you cover your face. Ragged, irregular breaths come out as you try to force back the wave of emotions you've just unleashed. Gently, Ben pulls you to his chest as he rubs your back, murmuring gentle reassurances you couldn't quite hear.

Moments pass until your breathing finally evens out, eyes dry but still red and puffy. You slowly pull back and he lets you, his face full of worry. His hand still remains on your shoulder, an ever-present weight.

"You've had this on your mind for a long time, haven't you?"

You give a feeble nod. The thought of having to return to school had been weighing on you, but you hadn't realized how bad it had been until now. The thought is almost enough to send you spiraling again.

"I don't want to go back."

Ben gives you a smile. "You don't have to."

Your mind freezes for an instant, any and all thought muddled into incohereency.

"What?"

"Why don't I sign you up for online school this year? I remember you talking about wanting to do it a couple of months back, so why not now?"

"I..."

Your brows furrow. You did tell Ben that you wanted to do online school a couple of months ago before summer started. But this wasn't a new wish. You had been dreaming of being homeschooled since you had dreamed of living in the attic. Troubles in finding friends and fitting in had always followed you throughout the years until you realized the futility of it all, and only dreamt of a home where you didn't have to leave, and Ben and you could spend your days in peace. But the reality of your father's abuse had made school a begrudgingly safe haven of yours and you had slowly given up on that dream, too. But now that it was fully within your hands, you found yourself hesitating. Why? There was no monster in your home anymore, you were safe, and there's no reason to say no.

"I don't know."

He smiled.

"It wouldn't have to be permanent, just for this year. And if you don't like it, I can reenroll you back into your old school, so your options are always open. Plus, you're right, (Y/N). I know how cruel kids can be, especially when they're confronted with situations and people they don't understand. I don't want you to face that if you don't have to."

You gnaw on your lip, unsure of what to say. Ben was right on all accounts, the things he was saying made sense, and yet you couldn't find yourself saying yes. Why couldn't you let yourself have this?

"Can I think on it?"

Ironically, it came out of your mouth before you could think at all.

He nodded, his good-humored smile still on his face. You let out a small breath, so glad to still see it there.

"Of course, kid, it's a big decision. Take your time."

He gave your shoulder one last pat before getting up.

"I'm going to move the rest of the boxes in the car and go drop them off. You want me to pick up dinner on the way back?"

"Yeah, I'm fine with whatever."

"Alright. Rest up, I'll be back soon."

Unable to say much else, you nod as he gives you one last smile before he heads out the door, closing it behind him.

You rub your eyes, your body slowly unwinding from the tension just moments prior, until it gives in and you lay down on your bed.

With nothing else left to do, you crawl under your covers, the familiar comfort of the soft and worn fabric soothing your nerves. Distantly, you hear the sound of Ben's footsteps as he makes his way back and forth from the attic, the familiar and comforting sound lulling you into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning was pretty uneventful. Ben was off at work while you continued clearing the attic, sorting out the junk and keepsakes, only occasionally getting scared by the stray spiders that had made their home in the crevices between the boxes.

By noon, everything was sorted, with the only thing left being to take the boxes to be donated or tossed in the trash. But you needed Ben to help you with that, so you found yourself heading down to the kitchen, heating instant noodles in the microbe, wondering what you were going to do until he got home.

Around this time is when you usually went to go check the mail, but since yesterday, the thought of having to leave the house left you with an uneasy feeling, tension building in your spine and shoulders the longer you thought of it. A part of you was ashamed that you couldn't even walk out to the mailbox without it being a big deal, and another, much larger part, found immense relief in the thought of abandoning the task altogether, and not having any more chance encounters like yesterday. The more you considered it, the more you found your body sagging in relief. Yeah, Ben can grab it when he gets home, you're sure he wouldn't mind. It's no big deal.

The microwave beeps and you grab the noodles, all thought of the outside quickly leaving your head.

You had just dumped the flavor packet in when you heard a knock at the door.

Your heart, ashamed you were to admit, skipped a beat, and you froze mid-action, breath catching roughly in your throat. Who could that be? Maybe that was Ben, and he had just forgot his keys? No, that's stupid, he wouldn't be home this early, and he never forgets his keys. With no other answers coming to mind, you quietly set the packet down and got up to the door to peek through the peephole.

On the other side of the door stood one of your neighbors, a kid your age. You see him the most often out of all of your neighbors, often doing yard work and tending to the flowers in his front yard. He was also the guy you caught staring at you the most. Well, maybe staring wasn't completely accurate, but whenever you looked his way, you two would usually make eye contact before one of you shyly looked away. You didn't know why, and it played havoc on your nerves. He wore a hoodie despite the summer heat and had an envelope in his hand. He looked nervous.

You pull away and bring your hand to undo the locks before stopping.

For one glorious, tempting moment, you picture yourself turning around, going back to your noodles, and taking them upstairs and away from the door to eat in peace until Ben comes home.

Instead, you undo the locks and open the door.

Your neighbor looks slightly taken aback like he didn't expect anyone to answer. You try not to notice.

"Hello?" You ask.

"Oh, uh, hi! I'm Alex, your neighbor. I live right next to you, the house to the right, well- uh, my right, your left. The one with the red car and lawn gnomes out front?"

He gestures sheepishly towards his house, face nearing the complexion of a tomato.

"Nice to meet you, Alex. I'm (Y/N)."

The social protocols of politeness take over, unable to fully pay attention as your mind stalls, still in a state of shock from the anxiety of the situation.

"(Y/N)? That's a nice name." He smiles at you before quickly looking at the ground.

He hands the envelope over to you, speaking as you look over it.

"Uh, I just wanted to drop this off. I think our mail got mixed up."

Sure enough, the envelope had your brother's name and address on it.

"Oh, thank you." You say lamely.

For a beat, you wonder if you should say something more. It felt wrong to just leave the conversation as it was and close the door, but what else were you supposed to say? Before you can think about it, he speaks again.

"I, uh, wanted to say that I heard about what happened to your dad, and I'm sorry."

Again, your heartbeat skips, and you stiffen, body alert, eyes wide. You probably look like a deer caught in headlights in front of him if he wasn't still looking at the ground. The thought would embarrass you if it weren't for the sharp spike of adrenaline hitting your veins.

"I... I had a dad like him too."

And just like that, your body pauses its panic response, and you find yourself fully focused on him as he continues.

"I thought it would be easier after me and my mom moved away, and it has been, but those kinds of experiences don't just go away, and I wanted to say that you aren't alone."

You still felt a little wired from the previous scares, you you felt a strange sense of ease slowly pass through you at his words.

You stare at him, as he stares down, no words passing between you two before you finally speak.

"Thank you."

You only hesitate for a moment before continuing.

"It has been rough, but it's been more of a relief than anything. It's nice not having to hide away in my room until he leaves."

He looks up, a small smile gracing his face as he finally relaxes.

"Yeah, it's nice not having to check to see if he passed out in the house again."

You find your lips quirking up. "Or having to check his pulse when he is passed out."

"Not having to worry about him throwing a fit whenever he runs out of beer despite him being the one who drank it all."

"Not having to constantly hide food in your room so you have a supply when he does throw his tantrums"

Alex gave a disbelieving laugh.

"Yours let you get food out of the kitchen? There was a lock on the fridge and pantry when I lived with mine."

Your smile widened into one of disbelief, amusement, and shock. "What the hell? Why?"

"Kept getting upset that the food would go missing. Worst part is, every time he got blackout drunk, he'd binge eat, pass out and get mad at us for eating all the food."

You couldn't help it. You started giggling, and he started giggling, unable to react in any other way to the absurdity of it all.

"Sorry! I really shouldn't laugh-" You began, failing to stifle the laughter.

"Don't be!" He said. "He's a stupid guy, you should laugh at him."

You both share the moment, the laughter slowly dying down as you both take your first good look at each other. In this moment, you see something you can't help but talk about.

"Is that a minecraft necklace?"

He looks surprised, but pleasantly so. He glances down before holding it up with a grin. The pendant was the shape of a creeper head.

"Yeah, I'm a big fan!"

He puts it back down and his demeanor changes back to being sheepish, but not painfully so like he was before.

"I have minecraft for Xbox and a spare controller at my house. If you want, you can come over and play?"

It was your turn to be nervous again.

On one hand, you wanted to say 'absolutely'. You couldn't remember the last time you got invited to hang out, and the thought of something as normal as playing a video game with a friend was something you needed. Well, maybe you couldn't call him a friend yet, but you feel like you could, given enough time. Plus, after being so afraid of your neighbors and leaving your house, having someone come up to you and act so warm and friendly made you feel soft. It was hard to say no to that.

On the other hand, you had the nagging, unnameable feeling that Ben would be, upset, but you couldn't think up any concrete reason as to why. In fact, if you focused on that feeling too long, your mind went blank.

Sure, you were going about out of the house without him knowing, but Ben has always been supportive of you. Sure, he's never really discussed rules about going over to a friend's house because the situations never come up, but he's fairly easygoing. You were sure that if you explained why you went, he would be understanding. Happy, even.

Plus, you were only going next door, you had your phone on you, and you would be back before Ben came home, so it's not like he had to even know what happened. Not that you wanted to lie to him, but something about that option comforted you more than any of the other things you listed.

Discomfort pushed aside, you gave a smile back to Alex.

"Sure thing, let me grab my phone."

It could have been the perfect hangout. Alex's mom was nice, bringing you two snacks and telling stories from Alex's childhood despite his embarrassment, as you two hung out in the living room while he helped you figure out the controls. Soon enough, you two were building a base together, laughing at each other as a creeper or sneaky skeleton would get kills on you both.

You were halfway through making the third story of the base when your phone started ringing. You felt your heart drop to your stomach when you saw Ben's picture on the screen.

"Shit."

You immediately pocketed in and got up.

"What's wrong?" He paused the game and looked up.

"I wasn't supposed to stay so late, my brother's probably home by now."

You went over to the window and peeked through the blinds, and as fate would have it, you saw his car in the driveway.

You hear Alex speak from the couch, voice slightly concerned.

"You're not going to get in trouble, are you?"

That was the question, wasn't it?

"I... don't think so. Maybe? I've never been out late before."

"If you want, I can come with you and explain what happened. I'll take the blame."

Despite your growing worry, you felt a pang of gratitude come through. You gave a small smile.

"That's okay, he'll probably be a little mad, but I don't think it's that serious."

You headed to the door, Alex following behind.

"Hey, on the chance you don't get grounded or whatever, here's my phone number."

You look back and see him scribbling on a piece of paper before he hands it over to you. You take it and look at sloppy, but thankfully still legible writing, and give a bigger, more genuine smile.

"I'll text you later. If I still have my phone, that is." You joke, or at least try to.

He gives a smile and a wave as you turn back and exit the front door.

As it closes behind you, the warmth of the interaction slowly leaches from you and leaves you feeling cold and rattled.

You didn't fully believe the things you said to Alex. You had no real idea what Ben would like because you had never gone against what he said before. The thought alone turned your stomach into knots. It was simply how you two functioned, Ben was the one in charge and made the big decisions, and you listened. Sure, he never had any explicit rules about this, but that didn't mean anything.

As you made the short walk to your home, you began strategizing.

You should do damage control right away, start apologizing straight away, and let him know where you were and what you were doing. Wait, should you mention Alex? At that thought, you shoved the paper with his number deep in your pocket. You didn't want Ben to see it.

Before you could think about it anymore, you were at your front door. Your back tensed, and you hesitated only a moment before opening the door. Waiting would only make it worse.

Before you can fully step in, you see Ben pacing the kitchen, brows furrowed, face strained. As soon as he heard you, his head whipped up, and you felt yourself freeze like a rabbit spotted by a wolf. Frozen, unable to do anything else than stare.

"(Y/N)?"

Just like that, you were broken out of your trance, finally allowed to move again.

You step in all the way and close the door behind you.

"I'm sorry! I didn't think I'd be out that long, I wasn't keeping track of time, I-"

Your voice died the moment you looked back to Ben's face, his features looked so... angry. You've never seen him look at you like that before, never seen him look like that at all. It set off a loud, blaring warning in your brain that something was wrong, and that you needed to leave. But that was crazy. This is Ben, your brother, you were fine.

You tried to start again.

"I was..."

It tapered off as you saw him move towards you, movement swift and robotic as he kept his attention on you. Without thinking, you shrunk back.

"Ben-"

Before you could finish he's in front of you, grabbing your shoulders so tightly it's borderline painful. You grip his arms, weakly trying to push away, knowing better than to seriously try.

"Where were you?"

There was such a dangerous edge to his voice that you couldn't think, couldn't look away. Your breaths came out shallow and your voice so tiny you could barely hear it.

"With the neighbors."

That only made him angrier.

"What neighbors? We don't talk to the neighbors here."

Oh, you were shaking now.

"With- with the neighbors right next to us, the Rogers. I was hanging out with Alex-"

"Who the Hell is Alex?"

His grip got tighter as he shook you, and you could feel the bruises forming. You started pushing at him again, but your arms trembled so badly you might as well not have tried.

"B-Ben, it hurts."

Your voice was so thick with emotion that it was hardly coherent, but Ben understood.

His face blanked for a moment, body shocked to stillness as you continued to try and leave. Then, without warning, he let you go, turned his back and walked a few paces away from you, pinching his nose as he let out a sharp breath.

You listen to him as he takes deep breaths while you rub your sore arms, snot beginning to run as your eyes turn wet. As you step away, you feel your back pressed against the door, and you have the fleeting idea to open it and run away. You realize what you're thinking, and the idea terrifies you so deeply you stay rooted to the spot.

Finally, Ben turns back, face still hardened but not as severely as before.

"Who's Alex?"

You sniff. You really didn't want to do this anymore.

"He's the neighbor's kid. Our mail got mixed up and he brought it over to me, and invited me over to hang out."

You probably should have stopped there, but some scared, hurt part of you needed Ben to understand that you didn't mean this, it wasn't your fault. Your voice cracked as you continued.

"I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry. It was only supposed for a little bit, I didn't think I would be over for so long, just an hour or two. I- I didn't mean for this to happen, I should- I should of called you."

You stopped, but only because the shaking in your hands had spread to your voice, and you didn't think you could keep going without sounding like a complete mess.

His face didn't soften for a moment, staring blankly as you had gone on. After it ended, he closed his eyes, rubbed his face and gave a sharp sigh.

You couldn't read him when he looked away. Was he calming down? Did that make him more upset? Every second that ticked by frayed your already worn-out nerves. You were only one yell away from bursting into tears.

He looked up again, face the same as it was before.

"Do you know what it's like to come home with the door unlocked and see you missing, with no goddamn clue where you could be? What was I supposed to think? You didn't even pick up your damn phone!"

He stopped, took a breath, and then continued, a dangerously calm edge to his voice.

"And then you tell me you decided to stay over at a stranger's house without calling me? A person you only met today? They could of been anybody, anything could happened to you. I thought you had better sense than that."

It stung.

"I'm sorry."

It sounded small and pathetic, even to your own ears.

He let out a sigh.

"Go to your room. We'll talk about this more later."

You don't think twice. You rush away on shaky legs to your room and quietly close the door behind you, afraid of doing anything else to set him off. The bed lets out a soft creak as you sit down. You gather your quivering hands in your lap and look down on them, not sure what to do with yourself.

Before you can think about it any further, you hear the front door open and slam shut, then the car turning on and driving away.

As it quiets down, you can't help it. Stifled sobs climb their way out of your chest, feeling like they're choking you until you can't resist anymore. You collapse on your bed, openly crying until you exhaust yourself to sleep.

The next morning felt almost surreal. You woke up to hearing Ben walking about the house as he did his morning routine. Usually, you would be out of the room right now doing the same, with you both then sitting down to eat breakfast together until it was time for him to leave. This time, you stayed in bed the entire time, idly scrolling your phone as you listened to his footsteps.

A part of you expected him to knock at your door, and ask you why you weren't out yet. Instead, you heard the sizzle of eggs hitting a hot pan as they cooked, and after a short few moments, the front door opening, closing, and locking behind him. The familiar sounds of the car's engine slowly faded away, and you finally got out of your bed, ready to start your day.

You decided to text Alex. You were hesitant to give the details of what happened, simply saying that Ben was upset and things were tense, and thankfully, Alex never pushed it. Instead, he started sending you memes and talking about his ideas for the minecraft world you both started. It was surprising how easy it was to talk to him, the conversation going for hours before he had to leave to help with dinner.

When it was time for Ben to come home, you scurried back to your room, feeling relieved but guilty when you closed the door. On one hand, you could still feel the fear you had last night, and you had no idea what to do with it. It was perplexing and off-putting, and thinking too hard on it made you feel like your brain was turning to static, so you opted to not think about it at all, which meant avoiding your brother as well.

But the guilt wouldn't let you be. It turned what should have been the comfort of your room into a place of wrongness, that you were doing something awful by keeping yourself here and not going down to see him like you usually did. Your lip began to bleed, and only then you realized you had been chewing on it since you heard Ben's car pull in.

You contemplated texting Alex for a distraction as you heard him make his way into the house. And then, step by step, make his way way to the hallway, and then to your door.

And then, the knock.

"Can I come in?"

You don't know if you want to answer, so you don't.

"I know you're awake, kid. Your lights on."

Thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to figure out what to do. For a moment, your mind latched onto the idea that you could pretend to be asleep, but you immediately shrugged it off. This was going to happen anyway, might as well happen now.

"Come in."

The door opens, and you see Ben, completely exhausted, his gaze nervously flitting towards you and the floor as he carried a fast food bag in his hand.

"I brought dinner."

You instinctively perk up at the mention of food, and he takes that as a sign to step closer and sit on the far side of the bed, bag between you two, as he clasped his hands together. His leg starts to quickly bounce before he stops it.

"Figured I'd pick up something on the way home. Didn't feel like cooking.

You nod, even though there's something in you that compels you to do or say more to try and ease his nerves. Even now, after what he did, you hate to see him upset. You try to push the urge to comfort down as you pointedly look away.

Both of you sit in silence while looking anywhere but at each other. In your peripheral, you can see him fidgeting with his hands.

"I know I scared you last night, I just-"

He nervously shifts in his seat. His voice is halting but sincere.

"It worried me, seeing you gone. You mean so much to me, (Y/N). Ever since you were born, I've been there to take care of you. I can't remember a time without you, and I don't want to. You're a part of me, without you, I... I don't even know who I am."

You look over at him and freeze. You're big brother, the man who protected you and cared for you your whole life, is bunched in on himself, face strained and twitching with barely contained emotion as he doggedly stares directly ahead, like looking at you would hurt him. His eyes are red and dark circles frame them. You swallow, years of experience screaming at you to reach over and comfort him, but instead, you sit, never once looking away as he continues talking.

"I shouldn't have done that to you, kid. I should of known better. Should of contained myself. I try so hard for you, but there's times it feels like it isn't enough, and it keeps me up at night."

He sniffs, and your eyes begin to blur.

"I never wanted to be like that in front of you, you didn't deserve to see that. I-"

He wipes his hands over his face, taking a deep breath as he tries to collect himself. After a beat, he uncovers his face and finally looks at you.

"I'm sorry."

It was like a spell had been broken. You found yourself pushing a food to the side and leaning against his shoulder. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around you, and when you didn't resist, he reached his other arm around you, pulled you into his chest, and began softly rocking you back and forth.

You feel the rise and fall of his chest, and it feels the same as you did as a kid when you would run up to him when something scared you, or when you felt your emotions overwhelm you. He would hold you tight and it felt like you were in the safest place in the world. The relief of that feeling after everything you had been through was like coming home.

Still safely tucked in his arms, you spoke again, voice more quiet and child-like than you meant it to be.

"Promise me you won't do that again."

The mere thought of him acting so uncontrollably and violently towards you was enough to make you nauseous.

He squeezed you tight.

"I promise, kid, never again."

You nodded, unable to reply. The both of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before he slowly began letting you go.

After getting fully untangled, you rub your eyes, a feeling of exhaustion settling in as your stomach rumbles.

"I'm hungry."

"Hi hungry, I'm Ben."

His reply is so quick, you think it's automatic for him.

You shoot him a glare, but it's undermined by your smile. He returns it with one of his own.

"You wanna go down and eat? I got you a milkshake too, it's down in the kitchen. But might be a bit melted by now."

You spring up, fast food bag in hand as you make your way towards the door.

"Why didn't you say so, let's go!"

You hear him let out a chuckle, and you let out one reflectively, too.

You both share the meal together, talking and laughing late into the evening, until it was finally time to sleep. You drifted off easily into a deep, restful sleep, finally at peace.

#yandere #yandere platonic #platonic yandere #yandere original character #yandere oc #yandere x reader #x reader #gn reader

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magicalgirlmindcrank · 2 months ago

Note

hey my gf wants me to get into HDG. what works would you recommend starting with?

Well recommendations depend a lot on the individual, like I wouldn't toss Wellness Check and Independence is Easy to the same person. How comfortable are you with non-con? How hard do you like the sci-fi? Do you want a character that's a bad person and gets broken into a soft pet, or someone softer being ensared by an affini's mechanizations?

Some recs, a brief synopsis, and their strong and weak points:

Wellness Check - NEET Shut-in hacker girl who's kind of just abrasive gets domesticated. Lots of memory play type stuff, digitization, and overall v cute. Very Ace in it's kink.

Independence is Easy - Independent Terran with only some maladaptive traits gets absolutely manipulated and unraveled into non-personhood. (A form of) Doll kink, lots of sex, kink, and good if you like stuff on the harsher side.

The Original - Hard to beat this in a lotta aspects. It's got the setting typical feral breaking, still one of the best contract scenes in the entire setting, and while it's level of non-con isn't as typical, it establishes what you can expect well. Theres a few chapters on Read Only Mind past the rewrite on AO3 if u want.

Divaricated - This was the most popular work in the setting for a long, long time, and for good reason. Outside of maybe Abscission, no fic established as much of the setting as Divaricated did. Softer on the feral breaking, and more focuses on domestication being something thats inevitable, a natural function of of an Affini and a Xenosophont being exposed to eah other. Also perhaps the most sci-fi leaning fic in the setting. The only real downside it's also crazy long, the second longest in the setting. Ace in it's Kink.

Cross-Pollination - The most above board consent wise fic on this list, this is about an actor and a former war hero playing fake pets for propaganda, when things get... more involved. Good length, but not long, very sweet, and a personal favorite.

One Analysts Opinion - Havent actually read this one, but it's lauded as one of the best newer fics for introducing readers to the setting, and we've seen it compared to Cross-Pollination, premise-wise. It details the actual fall of the Accord more than any other fic out there, and has, from what I understand, very excellent kink to boot.

And I'm legally obligated to mention Dog of War - While we can't fully say this is the best intro around simply due it being the longest fic in the entire setting, it is also the most popular. It doesn't really front load a lot of setting info on the reader all at once, but it does present them. We've been told that it's on the softer side non-con wise, but IDK about that. There's a good amount of straight up non-con, and a lot of manipulation. Primarily, this one is about a nervous youngbloom learning to be an Affini, and a living weapon learning to be human.

Of course, if you have anything for us to base recommendations on, we can offer an entirely different slate of fics. You can honestly click on anything on the first like 3 pages sorted by Kudos and find something excellent, and there's plenty of gems all throughout the tag.

#hdg #human domestication guide

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henrioo · 10 months ago

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If requests are still open would you been interested in writing some domestic Mihawk with his husband and their baby? Maybe reader teaches the kid their languages, and Mihawk gets the baby little sword plushies. Idk man but there's no way that man isn't secretly mushy 😭

°•*⁀➷ OUR LITTLE PEACE: MIHAWK

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "All Mihawk ever wanted was a peaceful life in his castle. But a perfect peaceful life is not complete without you, his husband, and now his little baby to fill his days with joy."

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : Male! Reader (can be cis or trans), MLM, homo relationship, homo marriage, Spoilers to the two years separation! (Zoro and Perona are in the castle and this is post Marineford), the author doesn't know anything about babies and children, almost nothing of Spanish because I couldn't think of one cute dialogue so sorry, not too many mentions of the reader gender like my others stories but still clear the reader is a men, also no mentions of the birth of the baby, no name or appearance to the baby so you can choose if is biology, adopted, imagine what you want.

꒰ WC ꒱ : 1,8k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : Another story! Another male reader! Hehehehe, I skipped one day of posting but here it's the new one, another ask because I'm really trying to finish them to give more attention to another project and maybe write other stories idk. Thanks for the ask, I love writing family stuff hehehhe, this one was not that good because I'm having some struggles with my writing style but I hope everyone likes it! Byee

You yawned as you tested the milk in your hand, warm but not enough to burn your baby's tongue, perfect. Zoro was in a bad mood in the kitchen eating something, he had been beaten by Mihawk in the last training session and you suspected it was because the pirate was always lost in the castle and opening the doors with great force, which made a huge noise and always it made your baby start crying, irritated when awakened from his sleep. Which also made the older man a little irritated that someone was disturbing his son's sleep.

You made a mental note to try talk to your husband, although to be honest you were uncomfortable too. His son was a needy little boy and when he started crying he would stay like that for hours, until his throat got tired and he went back to sleep, so having to deal with it several times because Zoro kept waking him up was really frustrating.

You walked through the hallways, now with furniture all prepared to be baby proof, no furniture with pointy ends, no sliding rugs, doors in front of the stairs and other changes. At first you thought that Mihawk would be uncomfortable with the changes, to his surprise he took responsibility for changing everything without you even talking about it first. He spent weeks moving furniture, buying or making objects to close doors or round edges, he even made himself available to remove carpets and pictures, even going overboard with the protection.

Your husband has always been a very protective person, even before he was your husband or boyfriend. When he was just flirting, or courting, he was always very concerned about your ntegrity. If you were traveling, would he always give you the best accommodations, extreme climates? He has everything prepared, clothes and even medicine for illnesses, that is if he doesn't change the entire route of the trip to prevent inconvenience.

As you progressed in your relationship, the more protective Mihawk became, he would never be possessive or controlling, he was just genuinely concerned about your comfort and safety and felt it was his obligation as a lover to provide you with the best. Of course he respected you, after all you were also a man and a fighter, you were not weak in any way, it was your strength and intelligence that made Mihawk attract and fall in love with you in the first place. But living a life as a "pirate", an ally of the navy or just someone very strong in the grand line meant that your loved ones and even you were at risk of death at all times. He would never want to lose you and that's why he never let his guard down.

It was no different with his son, he wanted to give him a safe and as normal childhood as possible, thus arriving at this extremely careful point. He was already planning his son's diet and he wasn't even eating so many solid things yet...

"Almost there dear, it's papa, mi hijo, papa" You heard through the half-open door, there was an area of the castle that was closed just for the three of you. Even Zoro and Perona knew to stay away from that part, it being your private wing.

There was the bedroom where you two slept, a common room with the fireplace where you two usually stayed, a bathroom, a library next to the balcony and of course, your son's room. It was almost a complete house, except that it was inside a huge castle with many other rooms.

You stopped watching your husband next to your son, Mihawk was now wearing casual clothes although his shirt was more open, contact with the parents' skin was good for babies, he had told you. The baby laughed in his arms, trying to touch the adult's face with his chubby little hands. He wore thicker baby clothes to protect himself from the cold on the island, as your husband insisted that just the fireplace wasn't enough. The outfit was dark red with bat symbols, Perona had given away saying that the cute baby needed to maintain one parent's vampire reputation.

"Baba!" Your son exclaimed excitedly, laughing again, your husband's affectionate look and smile made your heart melt and your stomach feel strange.

For many, Mihawk was a cruel and merciless man, who could effortlessly cut through ships and defeat thousands of swordsmen at the same time without breaking a sweat. For you? Ah... To you, he was a loving man, a man who always brought gifts from every island he visited, who always had fresh flowers to give you, a man who would kill anyone who dared to offend you for being in a relationship with another man. For you, he was your husband.

"I'll only forgive your terrible pronunciation because you're too cute," Your husband said, shaking his son again.

"I think baba suits you a lot" You smiled entering the room, your husband had been trying to teach Spanish to your little baby for some time. Although this turned out to be a much longer task than he imagined.

"Of course I do" He mocked looking at you smiling, it's not like he could contradict you.

"Papa!" Your baby said excitedly and soon his attention was all on you, his little hands stretched out trying to reach you as quickly as possible.

"Why can he get the pronunciation right with you?" Mihawk looked at you confused and envious as he passed the child to you.

"Because he likes to annoy you" You smiled, rubbing your face with the chubby and soft face of your baby who laughed at the contact.

"Well, he got it out of you then..." Mihawk teased as he adjusted the chair so you were comfortable breastfeeding.

"Of course yes" You sat in the chair and then placed your son next to the bottle, he quickly held the bottle as he began to drink the milk. His eyes soon started to get tired and he relaxed against you, after all it was close to time for him to fall asleep.

"I should order a painting of you two like this, it would be the most beautiful work of art I have ever seen..." He sighed looking at the two of you with love, for him it seemed like a dream, so much peace with the people he loved most.

"He wouldn't be able to stay still for that long" You laughed, your baby used to be quite energetic, which had created some good confusion with you guys losing him in the huge castle.

“It would be worth a try” He chuckled and walked closer to you, caressing your cheek and then placing a kiss on your forehead. "I can put him to bed today, you should take a shower and rest."

"You already did this yesterday, I don't get that tired taking care of him, you practically do everything." You sighed, your husband always wanted to take the weight off your shoulders since he used to travel a lot. However, your son really wasn't that big of a job, now with Perona and Zoro here and the instability of the world government, you doubted that Mihawk would travel anytime soon, so your job was even easier since you shared it with your husband.

"Humpf" He huffed, he always sulked when you didn't allow him to take care of everything.

"Let's put him to bed together... Then after that we'll have some time just for the two of us" You suggested smiling, your baby had now let go of the bottle and was yawning, showing that he was ready to end the day.

"You know how to convince me, don't you?" Mihawk smiled, taking the empty bottle as you stood up with your baby.

"Of course, how do you think I got you to marry me?" You played with him. Soon you were running around the baby's room to rock him, your son clung to you yawning and finishing digesting the warm milk you had provided. Luckily he didn't give much work on that part.

When he had calmed down enough to be practically asleep, Mihawk had already prepared the crib, also carrying some stuffed animals and blankets in case you decided to add something else. You walked over with your baby and gently placed him in the crib, then he stretched out completely and then curled up again in a ball, grabbing a sword plush and messing up the blanket there.

"Sword?" You said looking confused at the plushie of a sword, you didn't remember having one of those. You then asked your husband.

You only met a proud, red-faced Mihawk if you had seen your son doing the most graceful thing possible.

"We have to start familiarizing him as soon as possible," he said, smiling to disguise that he had bought the plush hidden from you.

"Oh yeah? Familiarize our baby with his father's swordsmanship legacy?" You said, crossing your arms and smiling at him, you even wanted to pretend to be angry but you couldn't, not with him being so cute like that.

"Of course, he will be a great swordsman in the future" Mihawk said proudly, you raised your eyebrow.

"Of course, then he's going to beat Roronoa and then come kick his own father's ass, it seems like something my son would do" You said proudly leaving the room, knowing that Mihawk would now be thinking about the fact that one day he would fight seriously with his son, knowing he would never be able to hurt his own child.

It didn't take long for Mihawk to come up behind you with a thoughtful face as he too got ready for bed.

"Well... He's still young, we can't say if he'll actually be a swordsman" He said coughing embarrassedly as he sat next to you on the bed.

"Of course, maybe he's something else" You said smiling knowing you had hit the nail on the head. Mihawk would never be able to seriously fight his own son.

"Of course... Another thing" Mihawk said with flushed cheeks, he also knew that you knew. It was shameful for him to know that his husband knew him so well.

"Yeah, another thing where he doesn't have to kick his dad's ass" You laughed giving him a kiss on the cheek, knowing he would sulk at the idea for a while.

“You really like teasing me…” He sighed as the two of you cuddled together on the bed, ready to spend some time together before bed. And well, you couldn't deny it, your biggest fun was seeing the merciless and cruel Dracule Mihawk, the strongest swordsman in the world, reduced to a soft-hearted, caring husband and father who would do anything for his husband and son. Sometimes love also came with provocation.

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lil-binuu · 4 months ago

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If he hits you once

TRIGGER WARNING: manipulation, possessiveness, domestic violence.

I'm a little late to the yandere party (sorry @peppymintdreams i couldn't help it)

This is fiction, not canonically accurate, and not romantic. (I do NOT condone any romanticisation of any kind of abuse.)

If you're underage, be weary as this is quite heavy and not like my usual content.

It is a bit weird to write this stuff, but I wanted to explore the idea of what barista would do in a situation where they realise that their life is not, in fact, a wattpad story and sometimes you can mistake someone who is actually really dangerous and a horrible person, as someone who you love. And while ofc, this is not Elias canonically, i still wanted to write what he could be like as a more realistic person - especially because the abuse from his father would have affected him regardless, whether it turned into his own aggression or not.

830 words

packing your things to move to another safe house has brought up the topic of your freedom.

“Elias-“

“I’m doing this to keep you safe.”

He already knew what you were trying to talk about.

“I- I know, but- I want to have freedom. I need to have freedom.”

“You already do.” He replied, blunt and rude.

“No, I don’t. I can’t speak to my friends, or family, I can't even go outside.”

“You can’t when it’s this dangerous. Do you have any idea how easily you could die if I’m not there to protect you?”

You hesitated. “I-I know, but I-”

“You don’t stand a chance out there, not without me.”

You swallowed. You knew Elias was protecting you in a way you couldn’t yourself, but he didn’t have to say it like that.

Elias stepped towards you, taking your hand. “You know I just want to protect you.”

You nodded, eyes dropping to the floor. “I know.”

“So let’s not fight about this.” He wrapped his arms around you in a hug. “You know I’m right anyway. You’re weak, Y/n. You can’t look after yourself, you need me.”

You frowned. Maybe it was true and you just couldn’t accept it. Elias was there to protect you, why would you try to argue otherwise? He only wants what’s best for you.

Elias pulled back, facing you with his eyebrows raised, expecting.

“I’m sorry.” You answered, fulfilling his request.

But why should you be sorry? It was a legitimate worry, your freedom. Didn’t Elias want you to have freedom too?

“Come on, we need to keep packing.”

Elias turned away from you, back to the bag he was packing full of clothes. You couldn’t allow him to change the subject, not when your freedom was at stake.

“Elias,” you sighed, “I wasn’t done talking-“

“Well I am.” His raised voice thundering over your own.

You don’t think Elias had ever spoken to you like this before. Like he didn’t even care about you.

“You can’t make me live like this!”

“I can and I will.” His words cut into you like a knife. This was a side of Elias you had never seen.

He had never spoken to you like this before. He had never argued with you, never disregarded your feelings, but all of a sudden your concerns were dismissed. Your voice was dismissed.

You could only stand there and stare at him.

“It doesn’t have to be like-“

“Are you trying to get yourself killed? Elias shouted, shutting you down completely.

“You seriously think you would still be alive if it weren’t for me?”

Your frustration got the better of you.

“I don’t need you to protect me!” You yelled.

A hand came down quickly onto your face.

You froze.

The side of your face almost numb from the impact. You could hardly register what just happened.

You slowly looked back to Elias, swallowing as tears began to flood your eyes.

His chest rising and falling quickly, you could see how angry he was. But did he just hit you?

After protecting you for so long, promising to keep you safe, you never thought Elias would be the one to hurt you.

Maybe you shouldn’t have protested against him so much. You didn’t need to anger him, if only you just listened to what he said without complaining.

But his anger was now imprinted on your skin.

Elias took a step towards you, reaching out his arm. Instantly you brought up your hands in front of your face.

“Baby, why’d you flinch?”

You looked at him through the barrier of your arms, bringing your defence down as you realised he hadn’t hit you a second time.

“I- I..” You choked on your excuse, tears rolling down your face.

“Baby?” He exclaimed, his bittersweet concern almost mocking.

“You know I would never hurt you, right?”

You blinked up at him, confused and scared.

He wouldn’t hurt you? He wouldn’t? But your face was red and stinging.

“B-but.. You..” Your hand raised to the side of your face, gently touching the injury.

“Ah, but I didn’t mean to. I just got so angry, babe. You know I can’t help it.”

“W- what?” you whispered, searching his eyes.

He leaned down to your face.

“Don’t argue with me and you won’t get hurt.”

You finally realised what you had gotten yourself into. Elias wasn’t some protector, no, he was just another man who made empty promises to keep you around. His words were just lies, sweet lips and a sweet voice in the hopes that you would believe his sweet facade.

Now you just felt stupid. Why on earth would you think that putting your heart and soul into someone like him would work out? It doesn’t matter how much you like him, under all the leather and chains, he’s just another man with issues.

And you knew you needed to leave. There was nothing else for you to do.

Silently, you continued to pack. But you weren’t going to a safe house or staying with Elias any longer. You were getting out.

yualll this is kinda shit but whatev

Remember; If they hit you once, they'll hit you again.

And to all of my beautiful people out there, if someone treats you badly in any way it's never ever because of you and you are not alone. Call me up i'll beat their ass. Stay safe <3

#zsakuva #sakuverse #zsakuva elias #elias x reader #zsakuvafandom #writing #fanfic #elias zsakuva #yandere #yandere elias #trigger warnings

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licensed2faint · 3 months ago

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I said like forever ago that I would make tier list for dragon types, and I've finally gone and done it. Big thanks to @veterantrainerray for suggesting I do this like a month ago.

These lists are directed at newbie trainers, specifically younger trainers. If you're thirty-two and have a twenty acre property and all the time in the world to read up on the care and training of a Salamence, go for it. I'm not your dad.

I've ONLY added Pokemon I have personally trained, so I can try to explain each list. I made two lists, one for captive-bred 'mon and one for wild-caught. Captive-bred pokemon tend to be hardier and less temperamental, so the list is a bit different. ALSO, while I used the final forms, this list is assuming you got them in their first form. I do not recommend trying to train a fully-grown wild Salamence. For any reason. That's a catch-and-release beastie.

honourable mention: Gyarados. Not a dragon-type, but temperamental as one. My recommendation is that this is a very strong guy who (probably) loves you very much for taking care of him when he was weak, and also he hates everyone else. Train him to wait for your command, and also socialize him while he's still a Magikarp to avoid the 'us vs. them' mindset as much as you can.

~~~

First up, the 'domestic-bred dragon list!'

Explanation:

Acceptable Starter: Swablu and Dratini are not very aggressive pokemon, and domestic-bred ones are usually much hardier than their wild counterparts. Dratini are a little more intelligent, and thus easier to train, but a domestic Swablu is pretty intelligent itself. Neither of them evolves into a pokemon known for aggression, so I think overall they're pretty well-suited travelling companions.

Fine with experience: Horsea is Horsea. You know him, you love him. Domestic ones, are, again, hardier than than their wild counterparts.. Honestly, the reason I have them here rather than 'acceptable starter' is because of Seadra. All the good breeding in the world can't guarantee a calm Seadra. You have to make sure your Horsea is well-trained BEFORE it evolves. But if it is? Your Kingdra is gonna be a breeze. Way more chill than Seadra, if not a bit snooty.

Druddigon get a bad rap, which is unfortunate. I love them. Might be my favourite dragon type. Domestic breeds are hard to come by, since they're not very popular, but the ones I've met are wonderful. They enjoy sunbathing a lot. The reason I put them here is actually because they tend to be stubborn. And while it takes a lot (compared to other dragon types, NOT most pokemon) to get them irritated, they CAN AND WILL use their strength to solve a problem. So the difficulty lies in getting them motivated enough to train them well. But if you're just looking for a guy who sits out in your yard sunbathing and looking scary, maybe give a breeder a call...? (you should still train them not to attack without a command, though!)

Flygon is actually usually really sweet-tempered. The reason he's so low is actually because of Trapinch and Vibrava! Trapinch, even domestically bred ones, are not all that intelligent, and thus hard to train for people who don't know what they're doing. The digging instinct can be very, very difficult to train out. They're hard-wired for it, it's how they survive in the wild! Vibrava are much more intelligent, but when they first evolve, there WILL be accidents with the wings. They're still figuring things out. Give 'em time, teach them to only do that stuff outdoors, etc etc. But if you can get through that, Flygon are wonderful companions! Every now and again in Hoenn you'd find a family with a pet Flygon instead of the typical Skitty or Poochyena. Love em.

Might need outside help: Domestic Gibble tend to be much less wantonly destructive than wild-caught, since having that bred out of them was a big goal of the original breeding programs in the first place. That said, instinct is instinct. If you aren't giving them their proper exercise every day and making sure to train them, they are going to wreak havoc. You need to be paying attention to it at all times. They're also pretty curious lil' guys! This means they will see something neat, like a fire hydrant, go 'hey, what's that?' and then answer that question by destroying it. They tend to get labeled 'aggressive' which is. Well it's not really true, but the difference between 'playtime' and 'this little guy hates you' doesn't matter so much when you're human and a Gibble is chasing you, open-mouthed. Domestic Gabite are much more calm on that front, and fully-trained, domestic Garchomp tend to be remarkable bastions of self-control. Again, it's all about surviving and training that first stage.

Pros Only: Both of these guys are here for similar reasons: Their instinct in their final evolutions has a tendency to override their training, so you're gonna have to not only have a firmer hand then a lot of trainers are comfortable with, but train them pretty continuously throughout their lives. They're fiercely independent, so forming a bond based on respect very early on in their lives is direly important. Otherwise you ain't getting them to do anything for you. Thankfully, at the very least the domestic breeds tend to not be too violent/destructive.

Salamence has an added difficulty: most people don't train their Bagon or Shelgon correctly. Bagon is one of the most easygoing dragon types out there, and Shelgon have a tendency to be pretty placid. This leads to trainers not taking their training too seriously early on, which leads to disastrous consequences once they're fully evolved. Just because your Bagon listens to you doesn't mean your Salamence will. Practice your recall training. Or Else.

You put that thing back where it came from or so help me: Hydregion is smarter than you. You may be able to train a Deino. I don't know you. They're bitey, but not the worst out there. But you do NOT have the resources or the know-how to handle a Zweilous. Straight-up. They have high energy levels, need a LOT of food, and can and WILL injure themselves via infighting. There's a reason Hydregion is rare as hell, and it's because a lot of them don't make it to adulthood due to injuries. It's a survival of the fittest tactic. I love Hydregion. I have one. If you don't have a damn mountain range in your backyard, don't get one. They NEED a place to go off and be destructive, and they're territorial as all hell. Just don't. Please.

~~~

Next up, the Wild-Caught List!

As you can see, there's nothing on the acceptable starter list. I'll get into why in the next categories.

Fine with experience: You're looking at basically the same thing with the wild Kingdra line as you would be with a domestic breed, with one notable difference: Wild Horsea tend to be a lot less hardy and a lot more timid. It'll take it longer to start trusting you, but honestly just doing the upkeep to keep it happy and healthy should start winning it over. They're more intelligent than most people give 'em credit for. Your eventual Kingdra is probably also gonna be more headstrong, but honestly for some trainers, that's a good thing.

Dratini suffers from the same problem. They have pretty specific habitat needs- but if you're at the point in your journey where you get your hands on a wild Dratini, honestly I'd trust that you're able to provide what it needs. Bonus, though, is that while wild Dratini can be cautious, they're very curious, too! And if your vibes are good (lookin at you, Ray!) they're usually more than happy to come along with you. And as our dear friend Ray is learning, one that is eager to battle is a ready and willing student! There's a reason they have such a great reputation.

Might need outside help: Wild Druddigon tend to be pretty territorial, on top of all the stubbornness. They're usually also a bit more proactive in expressing the classic dragon type temperament. You're looking at more intensive training to get recalling down and increase their tolerance for being bothered. No shame in asking a dragon-type expert. That said, I still love these guys. If you can read their body language, you could probably get through a cave of them no problem.

Oh, Swablu. Swablu, what will we do with you? Wild Swablu are flighty little critters, and kind of frail, to boot. And wild Alteria are stubborn. They will not get dirty. They think they are better than you. This isn't to say they're awful! An Alteria is usually pretty affectionate with its trainer, wild or domestic. A properly-trained one isn't going to be raging any more than a Dragonite or a Kingdra. But trying to train a Swablu is harder than it seems, just because they're not great listeners. If You've got patience and a guide, you're fine, but really I'd suggest asking an expert.

I don't know how to say this without sounding mean. Please understand I've raised five Trapinch. They are. Difficult. and a little stupid. Wild ones especially don't really have any sort of grasp on the world of training. You are looking at one hell of an uphill battle. But they're kind of a rite of passage for Hoennian trainers, and if they can do it, you can too! Really, you're going to be doing most of the 'basic training' for these guys in the Vibrava stage. You should still be taking the time to get your Trapinch used to being balled and the sound of your voice, obviously, but the traditional way to train a Trapinch is to do double battles until it evolves. Then do a lot of the indoor-outdoor distinction, once it can understand what a building is. And if you can deal with a Trapinch, you can deal with a Flygon. They're pretty relaxed, especially for a dragon type.

Pros Only: You don't have the patience for a wild Gibble, and you almost certainly aren't capable of tying down The King of the Caves when he wants to rampage. That said, if you do manage to train one right, and you've got a firm hand an a certain kind of attitude, you've got a partner for life. A wild Garchomp's respect is a tough thing to earn, but it's worth it. I was debating putting him on the final tier, but honestly... if you're really, really dedicated it's certainly possible. But you NEED to get in contact with somebody who knows what they're doing. Trying to freehand training is going to get your arm torn off.

Honestly, with Salamence, you're looking at about the same issues as you would be with a domestic, with two exceptions: your Bagon's gonna be a bit more of a wild child (but still nothing crazy) and your Salamence is gonna be aggressive. No way around it. Keeping it trained is a full-time job. If you're not looking to make a trained team of six and would rather just focus on a few, then you might have the time to dedicate to making sure the training sticks. Otherwise, leave it.

You put that thing back where it came from or so help me: Look at me. Look at me. Do not go near a wild Hydregion. Do not attempt to steal a Hydregion's baby. You will die, and it will hurt the whole time you are dying. And then that beast is going to start rampaging, and if there's a human settlement on or even near its territory, they are going to pay the price for your stupidity. Then they'll call the rangers in, and IF they can subdue the Hydregion, they're not going to be able to release it, because Hydregion can always find their way back home. They'll have to put it down. Don't fucking do it.

You can probably keep and train a wild Axew. Just make sure it has an everstone, because you are in no way, shape, or form prepared for a wild Haxorous. See the above, minus the rampaging parts. They're usually content with just you and anybody in a direct line-of-sight. If you train it well, it'll probably just run off into the hills instead of attacking you, at least. They've got really powerful instincts, and need things most people can't provide. 'Oh but Laser, don't you have a wild-caught Haxorous?' I do and I also have an entire nature preserve, complete with mountain range. He loves me, in his own way. I know this because he is willing to wait for food and not attack everything in his territory. I can go into his territory without being instantly vaporized, and he's willing to come out of his territory and interact with me. This does not mean he is safe to be around. It only means that I have twenty years of experience. If you want one, get a domestic breed. There's plenty of Axew breeders all over Unova.

~~~

I hope this was informative! Please remember that pokemon are individuals, and not all of them will conform to what I've laid out here. Please also remember that your life is not worth the possibility that you could get that one in a billion, super nice Hydregion. Dragon types have their reputation for good reason, and I simply can't stress enough that you need to do a lot of research before owning any of them.

Good luck!

#I love my domestic Garchomp- got her as a trade wayyy back in the day #she keeps shit in LINE. like a very strict grandmother #And my Druddigon! I love you Ruddy my sweet baby and Todd my strange man #Ruddy was wild-caught and Todd is a domestic. Honestly super underrated #If I was a pokemon I think I'd be a Druddigon #laserland #pokemon #pokemonirl #pokemon irl #rotomblr #dragon type #got a little dark there but it's bc I know how kids are #they take a threat as a challenge

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obsidiancreates · 6 months ago

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I will get on my hands and knees and BEG for Booker x Grumley domestic fluff, please, I beg, I NEED more Uprooted content, especially Booker x Grumley!!

"Oh, wow." Grumley looks around their shared cells. "This is the nicest jail we've ever ended up in!"

"Is that a pillow mint?" Booker picks it up and gives it a cautious sniff. "How high are the taxes on these poor bastards? Well, at least it's going to making our stay comfortable."

Booker is inspecting the cell for weak points when he hears Grumley whimper. He turns around to see Grumley trying, in vain, to scratch behind his own ears.

"Whattya doin'? Come here, come here." Booker waves Grumley over and scratches the itch for him, leaving Grumley to sigh in relief. "You know that can't reach that spot."

"You were planning our great escape! I didn't want to bother you!"

"Okay first off, maybe say that first part a little quieter next time. Second, since when does planning something come before making sure you're all set? I'm not the one who volunteers you for kidney puncturing for plans."

"That's true." Grumley points behind his other ear, and Booker switches his focus there. "I'm sorry I couldn't fight off the guards."

"There were like, a hundred of them! You're one pug! If anything Peggy should've used her magic again!"

"The clown mask, right? Not the bottle with the fire?"

"Never again the bottle with the fire, I'm never getting those images out of my head as it is. My point is you're strong and you're brave but you're not our only option for intimidation so don't blame yourself for stuff that can't be helped. Hey, sometimes a con just goes wrong!"

"Thanks, Booker."

"Anytime, Grumley."

"... Can we have a little kiss? They cleaned my face folds before they tossed us in here."

"What is this jail, a spa? Alright, one little kiss then I have to get back to work."

"Okay!"

It's a quick, soft smooch, and it leaves Grumley contentedly laying on his belly on the floor watching Booker with his tail wagging as Booker, blushing, keeps trying to figure a way out of this one.

#legends of avantris #uprooted #uprooted: dimwits of the dimwood #uprooted booker #uprooted grumley #booker x grumley #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

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aventurineswife · 2 months ago

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could i please request sampo and you choose who else with a dog and human hybrid reader that lives with the character? the reader would have stuff like a cage, squeaky toys, and can the fic just explore what it's like domestically for a night with the character?

The Price of Loyalty

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Dog-Human hybrid!Reader, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Playful Interaction, Humor, Emotional Depth, Found Family, Gentle Themes, Teasing and Banter, Companion Bond.

Warnings: Light manipulation, Minor suggestive language, Emotional depth (brief glimpses into Sampo and Aventurine’s vulnerabilities), Mentions of past trauma, Mentions of self-serving tendencies.

A/N: Damn I'm getting a lot of sampo reqs lately🫣

It had been a long day filled with the usual mischief and deals, but tonight was different. Sampo had returned to his quarters, exhausted but still smiling that signature grin of his. His place was cozy, if not a little cluttered with trinkets and oddities collected from both the Overworld and the Underworld. You, his dog-human hybrid companion, greeted him at the door with an enthusiastic tail wag and a playful bark.

Sampo laughed softly, ruffling your hair as you jumped excitedly. "Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite little troublemaker," he teased, his voice smooth and full of affection. "You’ve been a good one today, haven’t you?"

You barked in response, spinning in a circle as he set his jacket down. There was a familiar jingle as your squeaky toy caught his eye, lying on the floor just beside your small cage—your space, your sanctuary. Sampo had always made sure you had a place to call your own, even though you often preferred to curl up at his feet while he worked.

He flopped onto the couch with a sigh, watching you eagerly as you brought the squeaky toy to him, offering it up like a gift. Sampo smirked, taking the toy and giving it a small squeeze. The squeaking noise filled the room, causing you to jump and bark with delight.

"You always know how to make a man smile, don't you?" he said, his tone light, but there was a subtle warmth behind it.

Despite your playful nature, you could tell Sampo’s mind was still buzzing with his latest dealings. He often hid his true feelings, but you knew him well enough by now to sense when he was burdened by something. You gave him a gentle nudge with your head, your eyes full of concern.

Sampo chuckled softly and leaned back against the couch, resting his hand on your head. "Don’t worry about me, little one. I’m always one step ahead," he reassured, though you didn’t quite buy it.

Later that evening, he threw a blanket over the two of you, as you curled up next to him. Your cage remained open, but it was clear you preferred this quiet moment, lying beside him. Sampo smirked, his usual sly grin softened by the comfort of your company. "You know, sometimes I think you’re the one keeping me grounded," he murmured, though his words were almost too quiet to hear over the sound of your contented breathing.

Aventurine was not the type to show weakness, but there was something about you—a human-dog hybrid—that brought out a gentler side of him. His evening began as it always did, with a reflection on his strategic decisions and the game he was playing with the universe. However, tonight was different. He had a rare quiet moment to himself, with you curled up at his feet as he relaxed on his chaise lounge, the flickering of candlelight casting long shadows in the room.

You had a way of making the atmosphere feel less tense, your presence offering a comfort he hadn’t realized he needed. Every now and then, you’d let out a small whimper, nudging his hand with your snout. Aventurine smirked, adjusting his blazer, before leaning down to pet you, fingers running through your fur with practiced care. "A little restless tonight, are we?" he mused.

You responded with a soft whine, your tail wagging slightly as you brought a squeaky toy to his feet. Aventurine raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not particularly surprised by your antics. "I suppose you’re in the mood for some amusement, then," he chuckled, the glint in his eyes never faltering.

As he squeezed the toy, the squeak echoed through the room, and you immediately pounced, trying to catch it with the speed of a predator, your eyes glowing with playful determination. His soft laughter was a rare sound—something that came not from manipulation or strategic amusement but genuine enjoyment. "Such energy," he remarked, shaking his head with a smile that never reached his eyes. "You’re a handful, you know that?"

Later, as the evening deepened, Aventurine reclined on his chair, hands behind his head. You, having tired yourself out from your playful antics, curled up at his feet, letting out a soft sigh as you made yourself comfortable. He glanced down at you, his expression shifting slightly.

"Sometimes I forget how simple life can be," he muttered, almost to himself. His fingers brushed against the delicate band of his wrist, his thoughts drifting before returning to you, curled so contentedly by his side. "You always know how to make the chaos of the world feel far less… chaotic."

Aventurine stretched, standing up to gaze out the window for a moment, and when he turned back, his gaze softened, the ruthless strategist giving way to something gentler, a hint of fondness in his eyes. "Don’t get too comfortable," he added, his tone laced with teasing, "but I suppose I’ll allow you this one night of peace."

The night passed quietly, with you curled up by his feet, and Aventurine content in the subtle companionship you offered. For once, the world outside seemed far less important, and the games of life seemed a little easier to bear with your presence.

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rise-my-angel · 1 year ago

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Heart of the Great Wolf

Woes of a Modern Day Love

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 21.2k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, abusive relationships, pining, male masterbation, domestic violence, unhealthy alcohol consumption, implied sexual abuse, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v

Notes: A modern!au of my main series, no knowledge of that fic is required though. Also if you thought this was going to be a fluff filled funny fic, I'm so sorry you must be new to my blog. Series Masterlist Here

Jon Snow could still recall that day as if it had just occurred. Six months had passed since then, and yet it currently felt like an utter lifetime of endless suffering. The way he knew right away as he picked up the phone that something was very wrong, how much you were trying to be quiet without crying and the swiftness in which you hung up as soon as yelling could be heard on the other end.

He had all but knocked his chair over how fast he got up before running out of the door, yelling back to Sam to tell Commander Mormont he'd apologize for leaving like this later. By his estimation as he had gotten into his car, it would take about five hours to get there if he, perhaps, didn't quite follow the speed limits. Double checking he still had something in his glove box, Jon shifted things around to prepare before leaving.

As morose of a thing it was to say, Jon had been long since preparing for it. Not a man to rub it in your face how much of a mistake he thought you had been making, but Jon did not sit idly by and wait for it all to implode leaving you stranded and alone. Jon had known this was coming since the day you had told him you were dating Karl Tanner. Not many men were known to be kicked out of the Nights Watch, but he had been one of them and Jon still could not fathom how he had convinced you to date him.

Or what he said to talk you into moving away from your friends and loved ones, to live with him five hours away.

But you were an adult, and Jon couldn't coddle you from the world. He couldn't just lock you in your room and tell you to break up with him. But he did know for a certain that when Jon had been the one originally planned to drive you there, Karl took it upon himself to pick you up instead. He knew why, giving Jon five hours alone with you was giving him five hours of time to talk you out of it.

No music played on his radio, he never bothered connecting his bluetooth, he only drove five hours in a seething silence, hand tense on the steering wheel counting down each mile remained. By the time he could see the house in the distance, you were waiting. Front door closed, you sat on the steps with your arms wrapped around your knees and a bag next to you.

The second you heard the sound of an approaching car you stood. Within the instant Jon got out of the car, he could see every sign you had been trying to hide the fact that you were previously crying but he didn't care for a second. Pulling you to him, his eyes wide and painting over with such a worry as he cupped your cheeks, “Did he hurt you?”

Jon was not convinced by the weak manner in which your tone said no. But you shook your head still barley finding the courage to grasp lightly at his waist, only a cracked whisper coming from you realizing he was still in his Nights Watch attire, that he had left the Wall to get here. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have made you-”

One hand running over the hair at the side of your head, Jon rasped gently. “No, darling. None of this is your fault.” Trailing off for a moment he glanced down to the small bag you had, no bigger then a gym bag and not even full by the looks of it. “Where's the rest of your stuff?”

Avoiding his eyes, you shook your head again, “It's fine, I just want to leave.” Jon asked far firmer that time, why you didn't have your things with you when your eyes drifted nervously to the side.

Narrowing down, grey eyes tinting down to more of a black, Jons voice grew rougher. “You had a full car worth of things,” gesturing down to the bag in your hand. “This isn't even enough for overnight.” It was the way he could tell you were biting your tongue to keep quiet that made him angry all over again. Either you were too scared to go back in and get the rest of it, or Karl wasn't letting you but either way meant he was still in the house.

Saying he'll go in, you suddenly perked up. Eyes going wide and almost trying to push him, or more, the both of you away from the door. “No, Jon, it's- it doesn't matter let's just go.” Jon persisted, one hand firmly on your upper arm keeping you in place as the other stayed on your cheek, you trying one last time. “I don't care, it isn't a big deal.”

Rasping in a soothing low voice, he assured you. “It won't take long.” But it was then he realized in a manner of speaking, why you hadn't wanted to press the issue. Karl had opened the door, and leaning against the frame his voice rung out with the same condescension he always had towards him.

“Lord Snow, of course you're the one who comes to her rescue.” Jaw clenching instantly, still with the childish nickname. He was the direct assistant to his stations Lord Commander, and so the nickname had passed amongst those who didn't like him as a way to mock his position. “I told her she can get the rest of her stuff, she's the one who didn't want to come back in. Not my fault.”

You looked up at Jon, imploring him to simply listen to you and leave, but his eyes had yet to leave Karl's with a growing rage burning in his blood. “And why would she be too scared to come back in, Tanner? What did you do to her?”

You tried calling Jons name, but he merely guided you to stand behind him as he took a step towards the unmoving man at the door frame. “Who says I did anything? Why don't you ask her.” Raising a smug eyebrow towards you behind him, “Go on sweetheart, tell him what caused our little disagreement.”

Jon hadn't yet realized his voice was already raising. “I heard you screaming at her on the phone, you call that a disagreement?”

Karl only shrugged, still as smug as before. “She likes to play rough, don't you?” Looking back to you once more Jon somewhat shoved you behind him far more down the grass. Muttering for you to wait in the car, and the second you tried to convince him to leave, Karl kept making it all the worse. “See, she doesn't listen to me, doesn't listen to you. Got ourselves a trouble maker, we do.”

Jon spoke over whatever you tried to say. “How about you stop talking, let me get her stuff and leave so you can tell Rast and Locke all about how you scared me into running away, and we can move on with our lives.”

“Of course.” Turning suspiciously to the side as if to give him space to walk in, but Jon didn't move yet when Karl couldn't help himself. “Take your time, I'll stay out here with our girl and make sure she doesn't wind up getting into even more trouble. Or, maybe you'd prefer her more then a little broken in?”

The second Jon moved, you had swiftly put yourself in front of him. Pushing him back, barley making any difference as he looked up, and you desperately tried to get him to look at you. “Jon, please, I just want to go.” Glancing down, his eyes softened almost instantly. “Please.” Swallowing roughly, he nodded.

Without another word, he had grabbed your arm to turn you around and once more push you ahead of him. Ensuring you were in the car first as he watched with a deathly glare at Karl the whole time. But not before one last thing came out of his mouth, now that you were in the car and Karl was sure only Jon would hear him. “If I were you Lord Snow, I'd ask her what it was she said while I was fucking her this morning that started the argument. I'm sure you'd find the answer rather interesting.”

Jon said nothing of it, slamming the car door before leaving without another word. And it took well over five silent minutes after that for you to find your voice to try and apologize. With not a shred of the harshness anymore, Jon dismissed your every attempt. Instead shifting the conversation to ask you what you brought.

“Toothbrush, toothpaste, my phone, journal, and a few clothes.” Jon asked calmly about your laptop and a glance to the side he caught you shaking your head. If he were to guess, Karl had likely already called Rast and Locke. They'd trash most of your things and sell what was left. You had sat outside already knowing you'd never get your stuff back.

Without skipping a beat, Jon simply told you “We'll go out tomorrow and I'll buy you a new one.” Protesting with a call of his name, Jon shut it down. “No arguing. I'll move things around when we get to the apartment. You can stay in my office, so the computer in there's yours but you need things of your own. We'll get whatever else you need too, clothes, furniture,” Still you protested weakly, but there wasn't any shortness in his tone. Only a gentleness mixed in with nothing but deep affection. “I have the money, you don't. You don't have to stay with us if you don't want too, but I'm still going to make sure you're alright.”

Now though, Jon could remember glancing back to you. The brightness in your eyes that he suspected you hadn't had in months as intense as you nodded a single yes to him. He never asked what it was Karl meant, it wasn't his place and you were upset, so he forgot about it.

You stayed in the apartment, no one was rushing to see you go. Jons brother Robb had known you as long as Jon, and in your own words, was just as frustratingly insistent at getting you back on your feet. The other in the apartment, a very old friend of the three of you, Theon had clearly enjoyed having you around again as well. The pair of you found your previous friendship picking up easily, acting closer to a brother and sister, meaning you contrasted well against Jon and Robb making the apartment always amusing to live in.

He knew you had trouble getting used to it, the way Northerners did things. In the South it was very much, move out, live on your own, form a new life away from family. But it was different here, it would be weird for people not to live together as such. It wasn't uncommon for when a couple marries, to move back to the family home when having their first child, so that they and the baby could be surrounded with a sense of family.

The Starks didn't have much in the way of outside family anymore, not since before Jon and Robb were even born, but it meant it only would be even weirder for them all to live apart. No one was pressuring you to find a place of your own. No one really wanted you too. And just as you were finally beginning to settle again, finding life and routine, did he come around.

Jon had blamed himself for you getting involved with Karl Tanner, you only even met him because he was pledged to Jons own station. But this time, he seemed to appear in your life out of nowhere. They all tolerated him, seeing passed his facade and not knowing how to explain it to you without sounding like they were attacking your new boyfriend. But they didn't like him, and he knew that. He knew especially, that Jon hated him. And he loved it. He loved how much Jon utterly despised him. Robb and Theon were civil, but Jon would barley speak two words to him knowing he would talk endlessly at Jon in return just to frustrate him.

He had spotted your vulnerability and used it to his advantage to slide in, and he had spotted thusly in Jon, how much he was desperately in love with you. The day he put that together, was the day Ramsay Bolton had made it his life's goal to torment Jon every single moment he could manage.

Jons office was right next to his room, which now meant you lived right next to him. He knew the layout, you shared a wall where your beds were. Now though, it felt as if when he was home he lived on the other side of his room. Distracting himself with work or really anything which came to mind in order to tune it out. Or worse, but he hadn't really been ready to even admit that to himself yet.

It wasn't right now, it was the middle of the day but that didn't change the fact that if Jon worked in complete silence, he'd be able to hear you talking. Which would inevitably lead to Jon eavesdropping, and he was trying desperately to not do that. Anymore. He couldn't stand it after months, when just talking turned to something else.

At first he tried listening to something. Shove on his headphones and tune it out, but that did not change he still knew what was happening. Jon still knew that Ramsay was doing it on purpose.

Spending the better part of the afternoon transcribing, Jon had gotten into the habit of recording his meetings with the free folk, so he could write them out and give Lord Commander Mormont a direct report of what happened, but he so rarely had time to sit at a computer and just listen and type when stationed in, that he tended to take it home. Doing it in the quiet was easier anyways, and it now gave him an excuse to hide away when Ramsay was over.

He couldn't stand there watching him dangle you in front of him, if Jon was busy working in his room.

By the time he emerged, Ramsay was nowhere to be found. Wandering into the kitchen, noticing that he had hidden away long enough that dinner had been made and cleaned up. Robb looked up to his brother, noting the eternal frown on his face and tense posture, he nodded to the fridge. “She left you a plate. Knew you were working, she didn't want to bother you.”

Opening it up, indeed whatever had been made you set Jon aside his own. Exhaling through his nose, Jons eyes shut not noting his hand gripping the handle of the door tightly, nor the slightly more rough shove he gave to close it. Asking low, Jon was grateful Robb was used to Jon when he was like this. “When'd they leave?”

Neither had to specify who. Robb knew Jon and Ramsay hated each other, and that Jon only endured it for your sake. It was why he and Theon endured it too, if Jon could set aside his short temper and overwhelming protectiveness for you, then the least they could do was match that. None of the guys wanted to upset you.

Robb returned back to whatever he had been writing out, “Hours ago. Said something came up at home, she's just in the other room with Theon for the night.”

A frown coming across his face further, Jon turned to him. “Wasn't he supposed to take her out somewhere tonight?” Robb nodded and looked no more impressed. It was a science exhibit that all three of them had poked fun at you, by calling it nerdy. But Ramsay had offered to take you, and judging by your jacket and boots still sitting by the main hall, had indeed, backed down on it.

Jon glanced up to spot the time, keeping the grumble to himself that it was way too late for him to take you, it'd be nearly over by the time he got you there. Besides, he knew you would be bashful. Saying not to go out of his way and you were perfectly content staying in, despite Jon knowing how much you were looking forward too it.

Robb read his mind. “What's that now? Four times this month he's cancelled on her plans?” Jon corrected him on five, recollecting the time you went out of your way to reschedule a dinner reservation at a nice place in Torrhens Square. Ramsay had called you quite literally at the same instance Jon was braiding your hair for you as you tried to put a little extra effort into your makeup, saying he couldn't make it.

Your shoulders had deflated under Jons touch, clearing your throat as you hung up and very awkwardly apologized for making him help you for nothing. Jon had tried to insist otherwise but you shut down, trying to laugh it off rather unconvincingly before leaving to your room and not coming out the rest of the night.

He hadn't told anyone, nor you, that he spotted the dress you bought specifically for that date buried the next day at the bottom of what you called your donate pile. Jon had been there when you bought it too. You had kept looking at it on the rack, this long sleeved dress in whites and ivory and lace trailing down the forearms as it draped along the floor like a gown. The restaurant was fancy and it would be perfect, but you were busying yourself with a thin strapped red dress. Short to the point it on you would hardly cover even part of your thighs, and a neck which would show plenty cleavage despite you not even owning anything showing off like that.

Jon had asked if you were sure of it, and you tried to play it off. Saying it was the sort of thing Ramsay suggested would look good for you to try, but as you were asking the assistant if it came in your size Jon had gently murmured he would be right back. A hand trailing along your back and hip as he passed you by.

Finding your size easy, Jon had brought it over to you before the woman even came back. Telling you to try it on in the meantime. Not mentioning he knew you had been looking at it the entire time, only prompting you into the dressing room with it. Thanking the clerk when she came back but you had reconsidered something else. The woman, a bit older had smiled a little bit, nodding to the curtain hiding where you were. “She's lucky to have a man like you at her side, most boyfriends already have gold and silvers out waiting to buy numbers like that.”

Jon never even considered to correct her that he wasn't your boyfriend.

You had asked him gently to come in, not wanting to make a scene of such a dress on you out in the open if you weren't sure. Not that you had known, but however turned on men would've been by you and your plush skin and soft curves in that tiny red dress, was nothing compared to how hard Jon felt looking at you in such an innocent, long and modest white dress. He didn't insist on buying it, fearing it would look as if Jon was just trying to manipulate you into getting what he wanted. He did want to see you in it, but because you had clearly wanted it so much.

And then a month later, the day after Ramsay cancelled the reservation the second time, it just sat at the bottom of a box. Nicely folded and clean to be donated because the return date had expired, and you no longer had a use for such a fancy dress.

It looked rather odd sitting in Jons closet, a long, white dress amongst far, far too much black mens clothing, but he didn't want you to give up on it yet. You never owned such fanciful things, it wasn't the way you were raised, to value luxury. But Jon knew if the right opportunity came up, if Ramsay bothered to put even a modicum of effort into doing something nice for you, then Jon would show you he kept it for you, so you could have one night in the dress you were so excited to buy.

Jon was so utterly lost in his thoughts, he missed half of everything Robb had said to him. Not even bothering to sit at the table with him, Jon just stood with his back and shoulders tense as anything as he ate at the counter. Only tuning into what Robb was saying as he called to him louder. “Snow.” Jon turning abruptly to look, Robb just gave him a flat expression. “You hear a word I said?”

At least Jon was blunt about it. “No.”

Robb only smirked, used to it at that point. “Father wants you there too, said he'll bloody pay your Lord Commander to give you the night if he has too.” Jon only asked in confusion what Robb was talking about and he shook his head. “You getting knocked in the head out there by the Wall? Starting to loose brain cells already.” Jon took the jest with a grain of salt when coming from Robb. “The Harvest Gala, all of Winter Town's coming into Winterfell, and all the older families are going to be there. Father told me to tell you, you don't have a choice. You're coming, and he's dragging Uncle Benjen down too.”

Moving to wash his plate, Jon only asked “Why did he ask you and not call me?”

“Fathers known you your whole life, if he asked directly you'd make an excuse.” Asking if anyone else was going, Robb dissected the root of Jons curiosity. “Roose Boltons coming, which means Ramsay will be going if that's what your asking.”

Jon only left the room muttering under his breath, leaving behind the sound of his brother laughing both at his expense and as a cope for how little Robb too, was looking forward to the later. “Great. A whole night with you highborns and watching Ramsay shoving his tongue down her throat.”

Oh Jon hated how much effort he put into willing his cock not to get hard now of all times. Not an usual sight, Theon sitting on a chair in the main room working his way through a game, and you spread out gently on the couch across the television watching. Only, you were utterly ruining Jon. He had been wondering where one of his Nights Watch shirts had gone and there you lay wearing it like it was normal you would wear Jons clothes. Sometimes the guys things would mix with your laundry, but normally you gave them their things back right away. Yet you laid out in his shirt, clearly oversized on you. He dared not think that it was large enough and the material thick enough, you could completely hide were you not wearing a bra.

Before he could embarrass himself further, Jon closed his eyes to let an exhale out and get himself together.

He said nothing of it as he approached, only gesturing to your legs as you looked up at his approaching figure. Pulling them more towards your chest, Jon very casually and without thought, grabbed them once more to return you to your previous position just now with your thighs resting in his lap. Your voice was quiet enough for Jon to pick up on without completely disrupting Theon. “Did you see the plate I left you?” Nodding, you sighed out in a relief. “I tried to message you while I was still cooking, but you didn't answer so I figured you were busy. I would've come and gotten you otherwise.”

Narrowing his brows, Jon pulled his phone out and it had been some hours since he checked it clearly. Sam and Grenn both with messages in the group chat, a few from Tormund separately, emails no doubt from Cotter Pyke down at Eastwatch by the Sea bothering him for some thing or another, and of course a single message from you, sweetly asking if he was going to miss dinner and if not you would keep enough for him to sit aside.

Glancing back down at you with a low rasp, “I'm sorry, I haven't even looked at it in hours.” Jon could feel the restraint not to call you by the term he used for you alone. He had always called you darling, he had since he was ten. But it felt unfair to keep calling you that when you were with Ramsay, and Jon also knew if he kept too comfortable it would one day slip out in front of the man himself, and Jon would not have gotten to live it down.

Shaking your head, you flipped more on your back, head turned to see the screen but more easily face Jon when you needed too. “It's alright. I only didn't want you to think I didn't make anything for you.”

Jon would've said you didn't need to make him anything in general, but you both have had that discussion too many times to count. It was fruitless task. Robb and Theon had more normal schedules so sharing who cooked when between you three was easy, but Jons schedule was never consistent day to day. Jon typically came home having not eaten most of the day and so you liked to cook for him. If he worked into the night, you always would check in when he was coming home and if it was in time, you liked to be the one to make dinner.

Since on those nights, you always tried to make sure things were done by the time Jon walked into the apartment, and almost always, at least one part of the meal would be something you knew he specifically liked more then the others. He had long since given up trying to tell you that you shouldn't feel obligated to do that, but you would then have that narrowed expression as if confused why he thinks you feel obligated.

It was quiet between you both when he breached the topic, feeling you stiffen up right away. “Next time something comes up, you should tell me. I would've taken you to the exhibit.”

But you only shook your head, “It's fine. It isn't your responsibility to drive me around like that. You have more important things to do.” No words were appropriate which came to mind, as Jon felt deep within the confines of his heart, that you were what was most important to him.

So he only muttered back, “Just tell me next time. I don't want you missing out on things.”

Your brows narrowed, something hesitant and not understanding flashed in your eyes as you glanced between Jon and the screen. It was risky going further you knew, but your brain did not understand his meaning. “I'm not missing out on things, Jon. Ramsay and I can go on another date any other time.”

Both of you were too stubborn to let it drop. “Dates are one thing, it's another to cancel everytime you have something you're looking forward too.” Jon could tell something about what he had said bothered you. Your jaw clenching a bit as you no doubt bit down on your tongue. Shifting to look back to the screen and no longer keeping Jon in sight.

Were you more childish, you'd have something clever to retort with, but you didn't. Because Jon was right. You simply did not like to think about how often that statement was turning out to be right. You could go to an exhibit anytime. Well, not that one. Only was there for the night and then the event was leaving the North, and it was the only one you truly wanted to go see, but it was fine. There were other things you and Ramsay did other then stupid events you wanted to go to like a child.

You however did not like that when trying to come up with other things Ramsay liked to do with you, the only conclusion that kept coming to you, was how often Ramsay turned down doing anything or going anywhere with you, in favour of just having sex. Then leaving. Much like what Karl was like, fuck and then fucked off elsewhere for the night.

No, you certainly did not want to think about that, because then you'd have to acknowledge the warmth behind your face in an unpleasant manner, and the sting in your eyes. Or how just laying here with your legs draped over Jons lap, his hand respectful as it was caressing, his thumb trailed along where one hand rested on your thigh, was the most intimate feeling you'd gotten from a man in well over a year. You felt dumb wanting to cry at such thoughts. You were an adult, adults in relationships have sex, what was your problem. Telling yourself, you should be grateful Ramsay was even kind enough to fuck you in the first place.

After all, that's exactly what Ramsay would tell you to your face, wasn't it?

It wasn't as if it were obnoxiously loud. On the other side of the back stretch of the apartment were Robbs room, then Theons. It left yours and Jons just on their own at the left end. It was never loud enough it reached their rooms or even the living room. No, it was something so purposeful. It was just loud enough, that only Jon could hear, and he knew Ramsay did it on purpose.

Prompting you specifically to be louder, trying to prompt you to talk more, boast about what he was doing to you more, and mocking you about being shy. All the while, Jon would sit at his desk, gripping his pen so tightly it threatened to snap, because Ramsay would always ensure your headboard banged against Jons wall. The absolute obscene things Jons heard Ramsay say to you by this point, and he could confirm to the no one who asked, that Ramsay wasn't just mean during sex, he bordered on sadistic and cruel.

Jon hated that he knew you were naturally quieter in bed, because of how often Ramsay would make you go louder and louder, and the more perverted things he'd force you to say that sounded unnatural coming from your beautiful, sweet, high pitched voice. It was an unspoken thing only between Jon and Ramsay that this went on. Jon gave zero indication to you he could hear anything, and he knew Robb and Theon heard nothing.

It was something Ramsay did just to make him miserable.

At first he had a routine. It would start, then Jon no matter the time of night, would quietly prompt his direwolf Ghost to go for a night hike in the woods just outside the Stark properties his family all lived on. Sometimes if he was awake, Jon too would beckon Robb's direwolf Grey Wind to join. Ramsay never stayed until morning, and so Jon would wait until he saw his car leave and only then would he make his way down the path from the cliff side and try to sleep. Only one time did Ramsay stay, and he was smart enough at least not to cause a scene that would wake everyone else up.

Jon had just rolled in, a thirty two hour stretch at the Wall and he only had gotten home. Making something simple to eat before a very quick shower, and finally planning on going into his room and passing out, Jon stood in the kitchen in time to hear quiet creeping footsteps. Coming out to the hall, Jon came face to face with Ramsay and it was the only time he'd seen Ramsay hesitate.

Jon still dressed in the black leathers uniformed along the Nights Watch with eyes so seething and black they matched what he wore, Ramsay had finally found one instance where he knew Jon would have the upper hand. It was easy for men like him, highborns who never worked for anything in his life, to mock the Nights Watch right up until he stood before Jon in his dark, imposing uniform. Remembering that as much as the North called them peacekeepers, almost every brother of the Nights Watch was somewhat trained for combat, and Jon was the primary teacher for his station after all.

Jon remembered feeling that Ramsay was lucky. The more skilled men at his station would carry weapons. Partially a left over from when the Nights Watch was entangled in active conflicts with the free folk, and now partially serving as a reminder that the Nights Watch was not governed within the same confines of law. Jon used to bring it home with him, the sword strapped to his side called Longclaw, but he stopped bringing it home when you moved in. Not wanting you to feel uncomfortable with it. He was also lucky Jon remembered thinking, that the shorter dagger Jon kept for safety purposes, still sat in the glove box of his car.

Or maybe, Jon was unlucky he didn't have those with him. Maybe Ramsay wouldn't have come back.

Ramsay only rose an eyebrow at him in knowing before leaving. Jon hadn't blinked nor spoken a word as he watched him leave. Going into the bathroom you two shared, all Jon planned was to forget about it. Wash the grime from his body and rinse out the sweat in his long curls from keeping it up so many hours, but he couldn't stop thinking of it. Of how Ramsay had only been here to sneak off, because he had fallen asleep after fucking you.

The thought was made far worse when Jon realized in his absence, you had restocked everything for him so he wouldn't have to rush out to the store when finally coming home. He couldn't stand it, how domestic you treated Jon while knowing Ramsay got the rest of what came with that.

People mistakened Jon for your boyfriend nearly everytime you two went out alone somewhere. It always happened, and eventually you stopped correcting people on it, not thinking the truth worth explaining to people you barley knew. Someone called you Jons wife once, and he nearly blacked out at the thought. But for all you two treated each other as, Jon sat in his room that night with his jaw clenched so hard he wondered if it would break.

Headphones on, Jon was trying to find anything to distract himself. Abandoning his report open, and leaned much more relaxed back in his chair, connecting his headphones to his phone now, he tried not to consider why he did it. He was a man, men didn't need a reason so why did he? Why was Jon trying not to listen to what he could hear of you specifically as he opened up his browser. If it was nothing in particular working him up, why did Jon double check looking to his door to ensure it was locked?

It was only a coincidence that the search terms he looked for, were physical traits that just so happened to describe you. It had nothing to do with anything. And it was not at all, anything but lack of interest that had him close his browser after searching through nearly fifty pages. Because if Jon let himself think about the truth, then he'd have to admit that he had spent the past half an hour searching through a porn site looking for a girl who looked like you. And when he found no one who came close, Jon would have to admit that he exited the site, and very intentionally opened a message thread between he and you.

It didn't take long to find, many times you instead of typing longer messages, would send him voice notes. Knowing if Jon was at his desk at his station, he could just plug an earbud in to listen instead of stopping to read. The conversation he had found, was nothing even close to erotic. You were simply talking about something that funny you found even working from home now, did you still find ways to be annoyed each time your co workers reached out to you.

You were just too natural. Light and airy in tone, high pitched as you were much more quick in tone and not so formal for once. You were the most you in your voice notes in contrast to your typed messages, and yet despite there not being a single thing about the words you were saying being seductive, Jon felt his cock stir, unfairly hard he was and just as he was going to talk himself out of this idea, Ramsay had clearly prompted you to go again.

The second Jon heard your unsure voice on the other side of his wall, his free hand was already undoing his belt.

He loved your voice so much, the way you sounded so sweet when it was only the two of you. How from sure of yourself, how put together and stern you were all melted away into a gentle but kind shyness when with Jon. So few people ever heard you laugh, but Jon had so many voice notes of you laughing or giggling to yourself with whatever you were saying.

Jon could tune out what was on the other side of the wall, as long as he had your voice in his ear in whatever pathetic capacity he was allowed to have. He was also not in a rush, his hand slow as he moved his fist up and down his length, enjoying the building pleasure running through him at the sound of your voice. His hold a bit tighter when you would say his name. One hand kept scrolling, as soon as one series of voice notes as done, he searched for more.

Each new one, Jon stroked his cock a little faster, hand holding a little tighter. Breathing heavy, jaw clenched, Jon contained a grunt in his chest at the way you would say his name. Seven hells did Jon love the way his name sounded on your lips. Tighter more he gripped himself, running his hand up and down faster again.

It was why he kept headphones always charged. He couldn't dare have this interrupted now, and he couldn't listen to it out loud. Jon needed to cum to your voice, but he needed it to be for him and not for Ramsay. The desire ran through him, overwhelming Jons head. It was like an addiction, some men took shade of the evening to get themselves through life out of their minds. But Jons addiction was you, it always had been.

Truth be told, he hadn't even noticed a groan left him. Head falling back, his cock throbbed in his hand at the sound of your giggle. He was a doomed man, he replayed the sound again and again. Then another voice note, then the next and the next. Until he came along one you were not just giggling, but affectionately saying his name as well.

His insides burned, his hand running up and down his cock rough, fast, needing and desperate to cum with each stroke, which each sound of his name from your voice. How long had he been going, he wasn't even sure. All Jon knew was that his mind was consumed with thoughts of you so much his cock begged for you.

Hissing through gritted teeth, “Oh fuck-” Jon prayed to the old gods he had not said your name. He was lucky they answered, but he had come so dangerously close to groaning your name as he came, that he felt himself almost forming the first letters it. Cumming into his hand, Jon kept stroking until he had nothing left. And it seemed, Ramsay didn't either. It was dead silent next door.

Not sparing time, Jon tucked himself back in, tossing his phone and headphones onto his desk, before opening the door to his hall. Ramsay always left your door partially open, and as he peeked in, you were under your covers still bare, turned away from the door looking rather alone. Likely your sleeping self was wondering why your lover was not next to you to comfort you in your sleep. Jon closing it silently, and noting properly Ramsay was nowhere to be found.

His phone told him that it was two am. Jon knew he wouldn't get any sleep before needing to leave for the Wall. Ensuring the apartment was empty and sleeping, Jon didn't go to bed. No, sitting back at his desk, that time Jon spared no time in once more pulling his already throbbing cock out. Jon spared not a second in pretending he wasn't getting off thinking about you, wishing he would ever know what being inside you would be like.

What made things more complicated, was a message informing Jon he needn't come in that day, and thus he sat at the table that morning with Robb and Theon plagued with two thoughts. He had always tried to deny it, but this was the first time Jon had been so brazen with himself that he would stroke his cock thinking explicitly of you. Hoping that it wasn't about to change the way he acted with you, only he didn't get the chance to know right away.

You had been very late getting out of bed. Which was unusual, you were very disciplined about not sleeping so late. Your alarm goes off and your feet were out of bed within seconds. But it had reached the point you would have been up and getting settled into whatever project you had going on for the day, when you only had just emerged the first time.

They only heard it from the sounds of your door opening and closing, but it was Theons quick muttering in an angry confusion of, “What the fuck?” Did it have Jon and Robb look up.

You had been awake the whole time, you were however, hiding. For a good reason. As quick as both Robb and Theon were to stand up and call your name, Jon was already down the hall with a bit of a short tempered shout of your name as you ignored him. Grabbing your coat you didn't even wait to put it on before walking out the door.

Stepping out to the porch, Jon watched you swiftly rush to a car waiting for you. Recognizing inside the driver as Loras Tyrell, and in the backseat where you joined was his sister Margaery. You had shut the door without ever acknowledging him and clearly had told Loras to just go, taking off before Jon had a single answer from you.

You had left the house in a hurry, avoiding the guys all, because when they last saw you, it was with Ramsay who was clearly taking you to bed to fuck. But the next time they saw you as you rushed out the door, the guys had recognized the very distinct look of a bloody cut across your lip and a bruised eye.

It had been a longstanding joke within the Stark household that whomever built the family home, must have purposely Stark proofed everything in advance, protecting the house from the wolves tempers. Ned Stark was currently trying to quell his sons anger, Theon was sitting more firmly at the table trying to convince you to answer your phone. Robb was perched with his palms against the table on the other side seething with anger, while Jon leaned against the wall arms crossing his chest and truly looking nowhere but with his eyes so grey they appeared as black as they were angry and intense.

They had only just stopped slamming things about as Catelyn sent them into the dining room before they broke a plate with all their ruckus. Ned still was trying to be the calm voice of reason for the three of them despite his own feelings on the matter. He did not know the boy, Ramsay, but he knew his father Roose Bolton all too well. And that told him enough.

Emerging from where she had headed upstairs, Sansa returned looking at her phone confirming what their father had asked her to find out. “Margaery says she is with her and Loras, but she doesn't want to talk about what happened.”

Robb shook his head with a clench of his jaw, “We let him stay in our home, and he expects us to stand by as he beats-”

Ned cut him off, “Now we don't know he did that to her.”

Robb interrupting as soon as his father stopped talking, “She goes to bed with him fine, and she comes out the next morning alone with a black eye and cut lip? So, she what? Busted her face up all on her own by accident?”

Running his hand over his mouth, Ned sat down before both elbows propped up on the table to clasp together in thought. “I'm not saying that. I am saying that we should think before you three all go back out there and hunt the boy down.”

Nothing but a low rasp was Jons voice coming out in a restrained anger. “We don't need to hunt him down, we know where the Dreadfort is.” Ned gave a slight tilt of his head towards Jon, but he only clenched his jaw and turned to look back out the front window as if you'd appear in the driveway.

Trying to speculate why you would want to hide it, and Sansa looked up from her phone to say with a passing casualness. “It's obvious.” Raising an eyebrow at Jon with a look almost stern like a lecture, “She didn't want to deal with your reaction, if she's upset and you come lashing out of course she'd want time away.”

Jon pushed off the wall, face twisting into an anger as he raised his voice slightly. “Ramsay beat her and you're blaming me?”

Sansa only shrugged, a look almost smug like she had her point proven. “Maybe if you could control your temper.”

Once more Ned had to speak up interrupting what would inevitably turn into an argument should he let the two of them keep going. “Sansa, try and get Margaery to find out when she plans on coming home without making her feel pressured to come back now.” Robb tried arguing why shouldn't you come home now, and Ned once more shut it down. “She's upset, and so are all of you. It will not help anyone, give her space and she'll come back. In the meantime, don't do anything rash about Ramsay. Only until the gala is over, I'd rather not have the Boltons pull their support before we direct their funding.”

He knew it was a bit of a bias, not being anywhere close to the traditional Stark family business, Jon piped up with a dismissive mutter under his breath. “Of course, wouldn't want to scare them away after they've scared her all the way to Highgarden.”

“Jon.” Looking away in a bit of shame at the sternness in his fathers voice, Jon knew it was far more complicated then that but the agitation of not being allowed to do anything was getting to him. He just wanted to know what the hell happened.

You could tell she was surprised that you hadn't flinched once. The small swab of alcohol running along your lip and only your hands clenched slightly before relaxing again as she cleaned it. Voice soft but something attempting to be convincing against a difficult target, “Are you sure you don't want to tell us what he did?”

Inhaling slightly, you straightened your posture slightly as Margaery took that as her answer. Sighing of her own as her shoulders deflated, she glanced somewhat behind her, looking at Loras to implore him to help. But he only gestured towards you with an outstretched hand. “If she won't tell you what happened, what could I do differently?”

You had long gotten used to the manner in which the two siblings could joke about you as if you weren't in the room. “She's too used to my feminine wiles, maybe she needs a mans touch.”

Though, it slipped out before you had the sense to stop it. “If he closes his eyes and pretends I have grown a few more inches, maybe.” The glare was not meaning what so ever, not towards you. Despite the family you came from, it was still your Uncle Renly which Loras was seeing. He had long stopped wondering if such comments from you were serious. Attempting to change the subject, you tried dismissal as the first tactic with it. “It was only an accident.”

Tilting her head, she looked at you as if you were stupid. “If it were an accident, you wouldn't have messaged me first thing in the morning to come get you. Not caring about something is not the same as avoiding it all together.”

Truly, you did not wish to come here for a lecture. If you wanted that, you'd have stayed in the apartment. Margaerys eyes peeling away from you for a moment, taking little time to tap out a response to something as part of you wondered how she could possibly use the screen with nails that long. Turning back, you glanced at it with a knowing question.

“It's nothing.” Your expression fell flat as Loras's behind her grew into a smirk. Changing her tone to much more casual explaining, “Sansa was asking me if you're alright. Don't worry I told her you don't want to talk about what happened, just that you're staying with us for a little while.”

If anything had you close your eyes in defeat. That meant it had already spread as far as the main Stark house, by nightfall all of them would know. Loras at least had done the smart thing early, leaning his hand to the back seat telling you to give your phone over. Saying, “You can't be tempted to look at it if you don't have it on you.”

Had he not promptly turned it off, you'd no doubt be seeing it light up every few minutes with one of them either messaging you or calling you. By the time Arya finds out, no doubt eighty percent of such notifications would be from her. They could last without you for a few days. The Winterfell Harvest Gala was only three days away, by then hopefully things would have cooled down.

If not, then Margaery had at the least, assured you that your eye would be healed enough by then she could cover most of the bruise with makeup. For now though, you knew over the hours from when it happened, your eye had begun looking far worse as the bruising colours finally set in. You hadn't even known it was hard enough of an impact to leave a bruise until you woke up. Instantly, you had messaged Margaery asking if she and Loras could come get you.

Correctly assuming the second the guys saw it, they would get angry and that was exactly what happened. You thought you had a better chance of not being seen, thinking if it were only Robb and Theon, then maybe you could sneak from the door when they were near their rooms getting ready to leave, but then you realized Jon was still home for whatever reason.

That was when you added an additional message saying to just reply here when they arrived, and you'd come out to them, not wanting more of a scene to be made. The second you realized Theon saw you, you snatched your coat and walked out the front door. Of course Jon was the most angry, he and Ramsay hated each other. But you didn't want to deal with that after what happened.

You had been in their kitchen, assisting their ever immaculate and tart tongued grandmother Olenna with the baking. Whomever the highest of family names attending the Harvest Gala were, it was a tradition that the Starks provided the main feast and the subsequent families would provide a dessert unique to their region.

The whole kitchen smelled of a mixture of baking apples and fresh lemons, it was peaceful. For as quick on the draw as Olenna Tyrell was, she knew when to get down to business and your quietness only meant that you were a diligent worker to make up for the lack of conversation. Which she was fine, with, as long as she could pull a small smile from you now and again she could affirm you hadn't been knocked around that badly.

Oh she took it seriously, but she also did not coddle you. Which was what you wanted. “It won't make you feel better, but it will distract you long enough you may finally rid yourself of that sulking expression.”

You almost went to protest you made such a look, but her eyes shined in an amusement for you to prove her point. Huffing out what may have been a hint of a smile, you returned to the tasks she had delegated you towards. “So why is it your grandchildren get out of doing any of this?”

Olenna never failed to be as blunt as she was quick. “Those two out there are talented at many things, but baking certainly is not one of them. At least you know how to make something look attractive more then just the reflection in the mirror.” All said with a love you knew she held, the Tyrells never ones to withhold a jest at the others expense.

Decorating the very top of the small surface you had to work with, you heard the front door open as you did her voice accompanied by Maragery. You knew she was coming, and if you had any stroke of luck it was that there was one person in that family who wasn't going to hound you about it, it was Sansa.

You could tell her eyes sought you out the moment she walked into the kitchen, trying to keep whatever reaction to your not yet healed eye to herself. Though, it was easy as you without much thought on any other matters, grabbed one of the smaller pieces and turned towards her. “Perfect, I need you to tell me if it's missing something.”

Grabbing the small lemon cake from you, her face twisted from a purposeful look of thought to an easy enjoyment and a hum of satisfaction. Barley managing to her herself swallow the pastry, boasting with genuity. “That's delicious, do you make these often?”

Shaking your head, you turned back to carefully pipe the tops of the full sized ones into each matching design. “Not really. Usually my family brings something seafood in origin, so sweet isn't my normal handling.”

Normally she would have been over here for Margaery, but as she sat down at the island counter in the middle of the kitchen, you suspected she came with not so hidden intentions. “Everyone was worried about you yesterday morning.”

Saving grace, Olenna spoke up from her own work on the mixture going around the apple fillings. “Yes, yes, one muddied up face and the Starks send themselves into a pack formation.” Trying to protest, Sansa was as used to the woman as you were by now. “We needn't beat around the bush, my dear. Her brute of a boyfriend knocks her around, and every wolf within a thousand mile radius gets sent on a hunting spree. If they had reason to be worried, she wouldn't be here suggesting to bake lemon cakes simply because she knew you loved them and were coming over.”

Head raising just the slightest, you'd have rather wished that she didn't rat you out so quickly, but you only tilted your head in no denial when Sansa looked at you brightly. “Don't tell the others, I have a badly tarnished image to maintain.”

Margaery walked into the room, her light voice floating about as did she move with her usual, yet annoying level of grace. “Only your hypothetical image. I'll have that face prettied up for the Gala like none could guess.” Her own hands toying with the bright orange hair loose down Sansas back, did she also lean in to mock whisper. “Aren't I so good at hiding when someone marks up a girls pretty skin?”

A fluster came about Sansa pulling away as you and Margaery both laughed at her reaction. Sharing a look with the later, before raising your eyebrows to the former. “You're lucky I'm good at keeping secrets.”

Looking between all of those in the room she tried to deny it once more, “It isn't like that-”

“So you didn't change your foundation to a new brand, because it was easier at hiding when this one,” Pointing the now empty piping nozzle towards Margaery, “Gets a little bit too carried away in her spare time?” Both girls pretend to be annoyed with one another, but there was little weight behind it.

Margaery was likely the only person who Sansa couldn't stay mad or annoyed at. Almost drifting your mind away, considering the simple fact that you however, were the one who got everyone angry with you. A talent of yours.

You didn't want to think about it, it was a completely different situation then that.

Nothing in common, you felt so much more at your wits end here, the opposite of relaxed as Margaery and Sansa fussed about you. Their touch felt yanking at trying to decide how to this time dress up their new doll, when all you could recall was the last time anyone did something like this for you was before you threw that beautiful dress into the box to donate when Ramsay cancelled your reservation a second time.

You were focused on trying to paint up your eyes, while Jon stood behind you. You had asked if he would help put your hair in a braid, just a simple one until you could decide what you wanted to do, when he took over. Warm against your back, Jon begun carefully and expertly moving the strands around into a braid far more fancy then you could have ever accomplished yourself. Rasping low that braids suited you, whereas here both girls were arguing you should keep it down.

“Make him feel guilty. Show off a little.” You wanted to toss away the dress they handed you, but Margaery grabbed you and walked you to step behind her privacy screen to try it on. “You want Ramsay to realize what he may be missing out on if he keeps acting like this.”

Not being able to see her, you picked up the doubt in Sansas tone as she perched herself on the edge of Margaerys bed. “Are you sure that's the right approach? It may look like she's trying to impress other men.”

The dress itself was fine, but it showed off so much in terms of your back, arms, waist, too much. “That's exactly what we want. He needs to chase her a little, show why he's better then other men, give her a reason to stay other then familiarity.” Suddenly turning with a small shout, “Are you done yet?”

Sighing out, you shook your head without caring they could not see. “Do you have something a little less..revealing?” Sansa laughed, reminding you whose closet you were borrowing from. A deep sigh came out, “Try.”

The next two were also a no. “The Gala is tomorrow, you can't say no to everything.”

Cutting back quickly, “I can if I don't go.”

Sansa spoke before Margaery could once again. “If you don't go, you know my brothers will come and drag you home themselves.” Clearly the two shared a look as she explained quieter, “Shocked they haven't already.”

Oh you were even less sure about this one. The both of them dragging you out to stand before the full mirror in the room, one at each side somewhat behind you the doubt was radiating from your face. “You don't think it's too-” Shutting you down, Margaery only grasped at your hair once more, fiddling with it as she thought through what she wanted to do to match.

Still, her feeling and touch was nowhere near as comforting as Jons.

It was the same every year, but this year it bothered him more. The fact that you would sit up with those of the Baratheon family, occupied around by those who lived around Kings Landing. You had arrived with the Tyrells, but dutifully took your place by your family when Jon wished you would at least look over to him once. Wounds like that do not heal so easily, but it appeared as if there was no bruise around your eye at all.

You should've been allowed to walk in without covering it up, force everyone to see what a man like Ramsay does to his partner. Luckily, Jons morose attitude was easily hidden as well, but by the simple make up of that his Uncle Benjen beside him was equally as unhappy. But they suffered there together, both arriving in a variation of their attire with the Nights Watch, as if to separate themselves from those around.

Some laughs were found between the two of them. Jon knew Ghost was not supposed to be in the banquet hall, but as his name, no one noticed the direwolf laying by Jons feet unseen under the table. Without much thought even, in one moment sat by him a whole roast chicken, the next Jon had flipped a knife up, stabbing it in the meat and depositing it under the table to the very happy Ghost, as Jon continued like he hadn't done anything. Benjen tried not to laugh into the beer in his mug, and he too could see Jon failing to hide his own smirk as he brought his own up to his lips.

Every family who mattered was in attendance in the banquet hall, and outside the muffles of music and laughter where the thousands of other attendees shared the boasts of their own harvest. Thousands of years ago it was a tradition between those only of noble birth, to celebrate the Northern harvest together but the longer the years passed and more of community being formed within the lands less separated by monarchy, it had turned into something much more.

There were always two which switched, the Harvest Gala always took place in the North, hosted in the vast lands of Winterfell always by the Starks. The other was a much more specific celebration taking place in the capitol of Kings Landing.

Jon had never attended it, most Northerners didn't as most never even would go south of Moat Cailin. Close by his fathers seat, Jon could see the ever elusive Howland Reed. An old friend from worse days and the man only ever came out of his home in Greywater Watch for Ned's sake. His two children, Meera and Jojen sat next to each other as they would gesture across the way to Bran.

Even from where Jon was sitting further away, he amusingly could see Sansa desperately trying not to look over to the Tyrells, and then down to her lap only to recall father had forced them all to leave their phones in the main house. It had taken some years for her to settle, her attitude high strung and dismissively childish for many years all coming into a clarity the day she had sat down with their father and her mother. Robb and Jon being the eldest naturally being there too, as she had apologized for her behaviour.

It was much more easy to forgive her when her apology was followed with the admission that she and the Tyrell girl were seeing one another. Now that she had it out in the open, it was easier for the rest of them to move passed the rough years. But it also meant, that he knew for a fact Sansa had spent some time with you in the days previous.

Wanting to ask her about how you were, how your eye looked, if the cut across your bottom lip was indeed healed or if it was simply the red shade painting your mouth hiding it. He knew both his sister and Margaery must have had a hand in choosing how to dress you for the event.

Trying not to consider that the dress you were wearing clearly was borrowed and not your size, as certain places where your curves stood out so beautifully to him looked that much more alluring then it would on the rather small Tyrell. He knew for a fact you must have been embarrassed beyond anything walking in the main doors wearing something showing that much. It draped along your shoulders like a fine silk and down your back scooping low enough a few less inches of fabric and your hips would have been showing next. You kept a darker shall wrapped around you though, still not at all comfortable with how much the dress emphasized your breasts.

The amount of make up was their choice too, he knew that. The bold shade of red staining your lips as if meant to tempt men to ruin, it was not a choice you'd do on your own. It was as if you had been dressed to catch one's eye and as Jons flew across the hall a pair of pale blue ones had certainly been trapped in that net.

Ramsay had no right to look at you that way after what he did, Jon thought. He never gave you respect as it was, and this was something else. But Jons own watchful eye also caught what no one else was seeing as well. How every now and again, Ramsay would turn to the small dark haired girl next to him and the two would blatantly flirt and touch.

Were it a glass Jon was holding and not a much more sturdy made mug, it would've shattered from the force Jons hand was tightening around the grip. How often did Ramsay leave you after fucking you, to sneak off to whomever this girls bed was? How long had he been using you as a public shield to then sleep around behind your back?

Once more his eyes caught yours not looking at anyone. Sometimes sharing half baked smiles or a fake huff of laughter with your cousin Myrcella, but little else. You hardly touched your food, and the only other person in your families sitting who was out beating you in the amount of wine you were drinking, was your uncle Robert.

You had showed up trying to look as if everything was fine, but Jon knew the amount you were drinking was telling him you were anything but. Whatever dessert was sat in front of you as the night progressed too was passed by. Already forming a plan in his head, the moment the meal would end, Jon needed to make his way over to you. He needed to apologize before you were too drunk to be able to fairly understand it.

He was so angry when he had seen what Ramsay did, but he knew it was wrong to let that anger out around you. You deserved better then that, but he was beginning to sense you wouldn't be anywhere near sober enough to understand any apology at this rate. And the more you drank, the less he noticed Ramsay did.

Jon had too, but he stopped because he hadn't wanted to let any intoxicated emotions get the better of him about you. He suspected however, Ramsay had stopped, in order to gain back any sobriety he lost, so that he held all the power when he'd inevitably approach you. He would take advantage of your drunk state to weasel his way back into having you forgive him. Men like Ramsay, like Karl Tanner, they took advantage of girls like you.

Quiet and not confrontational, insecure and quiet so manipulating you into staying with them, and relying on them was easier. It was why Jon said he'd make sure you owned your own things once leaving Tanners house. He wanted to help you, but he didn't want you to rely on him. That was what Tanner did, moved you away from everyone who cared and made you rely on him for everything.

How long, Jon thought, would it take for Ramsay to convince you to leave the apartment and move in with him? Keep you away from the rest of them, and no doubt whisper things in your uncertain ear about Jon to drive a wedge between you. Tanner tried doing it to you about Jon as well, but it wasn't so personal. He spoke lies as such about anyone who wasn't himself. Not even Rast nor Locke, cravens that they were, were immune to that.

But Ramsay knew. Jon knew that Ramsay was fully aware of what Jon felt for you. It was why he loved dangling you in front of him, why he fucked you just loud enough to make Jon lose his mind at what he wasn't the one getting. Cancelled plans you were looking forward too, only ever did just enough with you to convince you to let him fuck you, and Ramsay had the audacity to touch and flirt with other women in the same bloody room as you, knowing you were too nervous to look at him.

Jon would rather you never date, then watch you continue to date men who saw your worth as nothing but something to shove their cocks in. You were so much more then that, but they had convinced you otherwise. Why else would you stay with a man who made you that upset so often normally, because you had figured it was all you deserved.

He didn't want to sit there and pretend he was a selfless man, Jon had the shame of knowing three times in one night he had gotten off to you before all this happened. You were his best friend and in more ways then romantic did he love you, but Jon still knew he couldn't lie to himself about the way he looked and thought about you. All you'd see is your best friend trying to take advantage of your weaknesses to get you into his bed.

The crowd was immense as you all stood. People everywhere you turned and your quiet self had gotten lost and forgotten in the sea of social waves passing you by. You hated this dress, you hated how much makeup was painted on your face, you hated having to play nice when all you wanted to do was find a bed to cry in for how much you let your life turn into this.

The air was warm, too warm as so many bodies took up the space in the room and spoke with their warm breath increasing. How did no one else notice the heat? How hard it was becoming to breath in such a heavy fog. Heart racing more as you felt your lungs tighten, you needed to walk away. Find a corridor mostly empty and walk until there was an alcove isolated to collapse against.

Nothing of what you drank told you if you were sober, you couldn't sense it underneath the racing in your head which flooded your nerves. You hadn't wanted to come, you hadn't wished to face how you were ruining your second chance at having a partner all for the same repeating reason. Whatever rationale you could lie to yourself with this time, did not exist when it was Karl Tanner in the role of Ramsay.

You had said it, and couldn't take it back. Karl didn't say what had happened, he didn't care about any of you involved once Jon drove you away, but Ramsay would. If you couldn't fix things with Ramsay he would use it against you, and who knows how many people would abandon you after that comes out?

You were pathetic, you always were. He's never wanted you, he still doesn't and yet you were broaching two separate relationships you've ruined over someone who does not want you. As your head leaned against whatever surface you found yourself at, you felt the world spin even as you stood still against a stone support.

“Now tell me, love, who did you dress like such a whore for?” Opening your eyes, the world still spun while still as a statue as you looked at Ramsay. Standing before you with a narrowed expression you had seen in the seconds between what happened that night, and how hard he had slapped you with the rough back of his hand. “Speak up now. Did you let the Tyrells slut you up to try and beg for me back, or did you just want to tempt any man in here that you were walking around with a sign hanging against you, that you'd spread your legs for the first one who walked up to you with a cock?”

Shaking your head, your words slurred as they were forced you beyond the heart pounding stammer overtaking with your nerves. “You- you always wanted me to dress like this.. I was, I'm only trying to listen to what you told me..”

The chuckle was fake, but you were far too drunk to also pick up the more sinister echo which matched behind his eyes as he invaded your space. Grasping rough at your jaw he didn't let you flinch away too much from his hissing. “Such a poor memory, do you need me to repeat what I actually told you? That if I'm going to fuck you, you may as well start dressing like someone who my cock would actually get hard for.”

You were so stupid. He was always going to be mad at you. You couldn't imagine how angry he'd have been were he to have actually taken you to that restaurant in Torrhens Square. He'd have asked where you got that long, white dress, why it covered so much of your skin, and why you disobeyed him when he had told you to go to that specific store to buy the short, red one in the first place.

Trying to stammer out, “I- I'm sorry..” He just tilted your jaw up to force your eyes up at his darker ones now trailing down your frame. You read the words, what he wanted. He had taught you by now, but you shook your head as something unsettled bubbled in your chest. “Ramsay, there's other people-”

“Did I ask about other people?” Saying no, you tried to insist on finding an empty room but he leaned in more. “Did I say I was going to do this in private? You're lucky I don't leave you naked and covered in me, here so everyone can see what a real whore does in the dark.”

As drunk as you felt, you were still in your head enough to feel utterly humiliated. If you were caught now, you wouldn't ever be able to look the Starks in the eye. You'd just move out on the spot and return to Dragonstone, hide away from the world on your grim, dark girlhood home. Too slowly you tried to pull one of the silky sleeves down your shoulder but he took over, the fabric ripping as you tried to argue, “Ramsay, please this is Margaerys-”

Shoving your legs apart, he only raised an eyebrow. “So I know who to blame for turning my girlfriend into a walking cunt begging to be filled.”

No argument came against that one, you had none. Your mind was nowhere near sober enough to wonder if he was wrong. You just accepted it. You almost ruined this relationship because you couldn't keep your mouth shut in the worst moment, so it was your duty to let Ramsay punish you in whatever ways you always dreaded. The mood he was in, you doubted he would even care wasting a single second getting you even slightly wet.

When he used sex as a punishment, you weren't meant to enjoy it. That was how it worked.

It took you longer then normal to realize why he didn't do anything. Suddenly moving away from you, your slow mind hardly caught up to the fact that there were now three large figures slamming Ramsay against the wall. Trying to protest, “Wait- stop, he didn't do anything.”

It wasn't until one of them spoke did the blur in you vision focus enough to see a teeth grittingly angry Robb was on Ramsays left, now turning back towards you, as Theon took space up on Ramsays other side. Not recognizing until Robb was already talking, that Jon was in Ramsays face, keeping him pinned to the wall with only one hand. “Didn't do anything?” Robb calling your name with a confused anger, “Did you not hear a word he was saying to you?”

Theon piped up with anger clear of his own, “Or how he busted your face?”

Swallowing, you felt lightheaded and confused more then any of them. “I-” A slightly stumble trying to stand up straighter as if they hadn't already seen how drunk you were. “That was an accident, he didn't do anything.”

Ramsay was quick on the draw making intentional mocking eye contact with Jon, “See, bastard? I didn't do a thing. Our girl here is just a tad too slutty for her own good, needs a stern hand to put her in her place, doesn't she?”

The guys all started to speak, but you felt your eyes sting with tears. Shaking your head at him not to say it, but Jon captured his attention. Voice so low and rough it was but a husk teetering with something burning in rage. “Don't talk about her like you care about her.”

He smirked, as you felt your stomach twist. “Oh I care deeply, bastard. It's why I was just so angry, you see. I take her to bed, show her my love and in return all she does is-”

“Ramsay, please.”

You tried pleading with him not to, but it was too late, as soon as he started to speak it was too late to keep it contained. “Was that so hard? You remember my name here, but not when I'm inside you?” He had turned to make eye contact with Jon, nothing but a smugness in letting it fall free. “Imagine how much it ruined the mood, when I'm fucking her nice and rough and suddenly, more desperate then I've ever heard her ask for it, does she beg your name before she cums.”

But whoever was the first out of the three of them to look back to you in surprise, you didn't know. You had taken off so suddenly and so fast that none of them knew where you went. As it turned out, utter humiliation sobered a girl up, right quick.

You weren't sure the last time you had been here, likely too many years to be worth counting back to, but it was just as beautiful as you remembered. The white bark standing out against red leaves with a face carved into it as if watching over the North it stood within. Back against it as you used your shall to sit on, to try and not muddy up Margaerys dress, despite looking too many times at the no doubt expensive silk now ripped along your shoulder.

Long enough it kept your legs from the cold as you pulled your knees to your chest, forearms resting over them as you had long since stopped caring about the stain of tears on your cheeks. You were such an idiot. You had let your feelings for Jon ruin two relationships, and now he and likely everyone else knew about it.

What was more pathetic of a revelation then your best friend calling your name when having sex with their boyfriend, you weren't sure.

Enough time had passed to which your drunken fog begun to lift and a stressing headache wormed its way in to keep you sitting in the cold air hoping you could find the courage to get up. You had your phone, that was it. Maybe it would be enough, perhaps if you could pull yourself together long enough you'd be able to convince your father to let you stay on Dragonstone until you figured out what to do next with your life.

As long as you could find someone who could drive you to White Harbour, your father could send someone to come bring you the rest of the way. What other choice did you leave yourself?

Robb and Theon would think you were pathetic, Jon wouldn't want you anywhere near him after this, and thus your presence in the Starks home no longer was welcome. You hadn't called Jon wishing he'd come get you that day with Karl because of anything like that, you had done it on instinct. He was your best friend, he was the only one you wanted to come get you but now it must feel as if you were a manipulative snake.

By the time you heard footsteps, you almost flinched to get up and apologize for being here, but it was in fact the rumble of Ned Stark coming to ease you from fleeing. “It's alright, no ones asking you to leave.” Muttering quietly why he assumed that was what you were planning, he without any care sat down next to you on the rock keeping elevated enough that a hand wrapped around your back and sat soothingly on your upper arm. “So you're telling me you weren't sitting here worried you were going to have to leave here and go back home?”

Looking away somewhat ashamed, your arms crossed more over the top of your knee. An uninspiring mutter, “I presume you know what happened.” Only a glance slightly to the side showed you his nod, and your head dropped into your arms. “Suppose everyone in the North knows by now.”

However, the man only chuckled. “Far from. I heard what happened, but put an end to any scene they were about to make before most noticed anything happened. No need to make a spectacle out of you after everything you've been through.”

Ned did not hear the first try, so you lifted your head and repeated your words as new tears gently fell once more. “I'm sorry, truly I am. I wasn't trying to ruin anything or manipulate anyone.” Asking where you had gotten that idea, you paused. Not yet clear enough from all the wine could you come up with but a shrug of a shoulder. “None of it was on purpose. It just happened. First with Karl, now with Ramsay. Two relationships I ruined by saying something I didn't even realize I had said until it was all over anyways.”

You were glad it was Ned Stark listening to this, not sure your own father would dare care to listen to anything even remotely close to a sexual topic like this, but he listened with the care he gave all his children, but to you. “None of us can control how we feel, sweet girl.”

The shrug and nod you gave didn't really indicate much, but he understood in your state that was all you could offer. The quiet of the night, this place far enough from the crowd not even the muffled nightlife of the gala could be heard. Only in that quiet did you say it, “You can tell him I'll move out.” Humming in question, you clarified. “Jon, I'm sure hes mad at me. Likely doesn't want to speak to me after that, you can tell him I'll move out. He bought a lot of my stuff, I won't take it with me he can sell it or whatever he wants. It was his money.”

Ned didn't say anything for a moment, and you had almost took it as a defeated acceptance that he would indeed deliver your last message to your best friend. But he didn't stay quiet, he only spoke in a quiet tone, pulling you closer to his side running his hand up and down your cold arm. “Tell me, if my son was angry with you, why when I last saw him, was he outside the hall worried sick that you had taken off drunk as you were.”

You struggled to envision it, but maybe it was the aforementioned drunkenness impeding your intelligence more then usual. “Because he's just a good person. Simple. Always has been, even now when I don't deserve it.”

It seemed whatever he had gleaned from such a comment had cemented an idea in his head. “Here's what we're going to do. We're going to get up, bring you back to the apartment. The boys are all busy right now hosting in my absence so you'll have it to yourself. We'll get you cleaned up and you won't worry about what comes next until you've slept the rest of this off.”

Truthfully, you were too tired should any argument have ever even existed within you.

Coming back down to the winding Gala late into the night, Jon noticed his father gesturing for him to come over to speak alone. Your name coming instantly out of his mouth, his father swiftly placated such worry. “She's alright. I brought her back up to the apartment to sleep tonight off.” Nodding, Jon stood tense as anything unsure as to how to breach the subject or if he should when his father did it first for him. “Whatever you're going to say to her Jon, go easy. She's upset and she's convinced herself you're mad enough at her she should move out.”

Face twisting in a mix of anger he could not fix from the night and a worry that everyone around you had let you get so intoxicated you spun a story such as that about him in your fears. “Did you tell her about-”

“I think she would take it better coming from you.” The two men stood for another quiet moment when he stepped towards him. A hand resting on his shoulder with a concern Jon knew was for both parties, himself and you. “And Jon, don't ambush her right away.”

Both nodded, his father leaving Jon to think. He knew he was right, he couldn't lay all his cards out on the table yet. Between Karl and Ramsay, they had done a number on your self worth. You'd jump in an instant to what Jon wished to say, if you thought it was a way to make it better. He needed it, only if you still wanted it once you felt safe in your own home again.

Strange, you had no dream and yet you were lulled into the world of the wake with something gentle along your hair. Not realizing until your eyes fluttered open that the morning sun was shining through your window. Jon was sat on your bed facing you, a hand running soothingly along your now loose hair.

Were your brain not about to explode from pain, you might have jumped up to apologize right away. But in your state, Jon continued to run his hands through the strands of your hair as he rasped quietly and comfortingly. “You're lucky to be alive. If I let Ghost come in here last night like he wanted too, he'd have cuddled himself into your side so much you'd have suffocated.”

The laugh was weak as you sat up, Jon not moving his hand from you as he tucked some of your hair behind your ear to more then cup your cheek and jaw. Your eyes heavy as you found a more shredded voice. “I could imagine worst ways to go.”

His grey eyes were as wide, bright and yet soft as ever. As if the night before was not an utter catastrophe you had brought upon your friendship, but the ship was steady on the water, you dared not yet rock the boat, listening to him with a warmth at his low rasp deep this early in your time awake. “You scared me last night, darling. Running off like that.”

Neither of you noticed how easily he slipped back into calling you that, or how you hadn't taken notice in any negative manner whatsoever. Sitting more against the headboard behind you, you were glad Ned Stark had insisted you wear something actually comfortable to bed instead of the ripped reminder of a terrible night. Your insides were warm as much as your front so close to Jon was warm from the proximity alone. “I'm the sorry one. About everything. Getting drunk, causing a scene..and..for-”

Mercy was what Jon showed you, but for why you couldn't put together. “You didn't do anything wrong. Ramsay's been barred from attending any Northern run event, and he's not allowed within two hundred miles of you.” Your brows narrowed in confusion, Jon giving you a gentle laugh in return, still toying innocently with your hair. “My father works fast when he's mad. I didn't think anyone could've been more mad at Ramsay last night then me, but he came back after bringing you home and went right to your Uncle to have a restraining order filed.” Asking why, Jon almost shook his head in a manner that was only amused by you. “You're like a daughter to my father, if he wouldn't let someone treat Arya or Sansa like that, he wasn't going to stand by and let Ramsay do it to you.”

Nodding, it felt strange that you weren't upset by it. Perhaps it was too early to feel it, but much was hard to care about when Jon was this warm and looking at you with such wide grey eyes pouring into your heart and soul as if he belonged there. “Jon..I really am sorry..”

But he only laughed a little, sliding his hand behind your head to pull you forward, Jon leaned enough to press his lips to your forehead. Murmuring against it, “Don't take off like that again, and you have no reason to be. Now come on,” Prompting you to slowly begin standing up, Jon rested a supporting hand at your lower back, pressing your unsteady self to his side enough he could rasp in your ear. “I'll make you something you can actually stomach.”

You didn't understand why Jon was making it so easy. For days now, things had been much like it had been before Ramsay ever entered the picture. Your days were normal, settled back into working without distractions and it all seemed as if the apartment was smoothly running.

Part of you wondered why it felt though, as if they were all waiting for something. You could only hope that it was not for you to fall off once more, you knew thus far your record had not been on your side but you hoped they had more faith then next to none. You wanted to start over this time, you were given that proper chance and you didn't want to waste it no matter what people were or were not presuming about you.

It seemed the restraining order was applied to those speaking of him as well. Margaery had not brought up anything, and when you had gone over to her house to profusely apologize over the dress she only wrapped an arm around your waist to drag you in, dismissing, “I have others.”

Trying not to fear this all had made you look as weak as you felt, but for how close you came to ruining things, Jon was the one easing that fear away. He was the only one who you didn't feel as if were watching and waiting for something you didn't understand, he treated you as the same as you two had been in your best of times. Before Ramsay Bolton, before Karl Tanner.

Things were normal enough between you that you, he and Ghost all went on a longer hike through the wolfswood for the first time in well over a year together. The warmer weather this time around was not quite what many would call warm in the south, considering heavier long sleeves were still the most necessary outerwear at the minimum, but it was not yet cold enough that spending so many hours outside wasn't preferable to ones health.

Small rolling hills led to cliff sides where the main river poured out in small divets of pooled lakes like a small waterfall, hardly anything for one who grew up on an island, but for here it was the most amount of a body of water you could get too within a days walk. Perhaps before you'd have worried about the quiet, but no longer did it feel stifling or on purpose.

Jon used to be the one person you could be your more naturally quiet self around and have it not be uncomfortable, he was the same way. The less talkative of the group of you, but together that silence was never filled only because the quiet as awkward. Jon would instinctively grab your hand to help hoist you up a steeper climb and push you forward with a hand on your lower back without sharing a single word and neither of you thought twice again.

Or how when you three had returned, Jon once again gently guided you to your shared bathroom first, quiet in your ear as it was late enough Robb and Theon were asleep. “You shower first, I'll get something started.” And without any more question, when you emerged, you took over what he had been doing and by the time his shower was done you both had a very late meal but in the comfortable presence of only you two.

For a while it went on as such, but you couldn't help those two same thoughts. Was everyone really just waiting for you to combust once more, and more importantly to you, why Jon hadn't even come close to bringing up what happened.

It went completely unspoken, but you didn't know why. Your friendship felt as strong as ever, but for what reason? You had completely violated his trust and it was as if he would rather forget, but it didn't work that way. He would've known you weren't to forget so easily, why was he? Were you lingering once more on the edges of feelings which Jon wished to pretend he never learned about? If so, why was he even more gentle and affectionate then before?

None of it made sense in your head, but you truly did not want to ruin things, not now. Not after being given another chance to keep him in your life. So you stayed quiet, didn't speak a word of it for as long as you could withhold the anxiety and nerves festering from your brain into entering your heart.

It was one evening, you both looked so much like you did as teenagers, sitting back against his bed, both too lazy to bother moving things around his room for a better set up, so your laptop was dragged in his room instead to watch something on there. Later into the night, the apartment was settled and only you two remained awake, but the mixture was dangerous for your subconscious.

His room always cozy and warm, and so was Jon naturally heated in his blood to never feel cold around and the dark from only a single lamp on his desk other then the screen, it all lulled you into relaxing a little too instinctively. You without realizing, allowed your head to rest on his shoulder, but Jon without asking you to move, stiffening up uncomfortably, or even hesitating, adjusted his position in order to wrap his arm behind you. Resting at your waist and tugging you firmly into his side as that same hand now ran lightly up and down your waist to hip and back.

Your- his shirt on you, rising slightly each time which his hand kept brushing your bare skin sending silent shivers along the surface. More and more did the film fade away, until you found a sleep more warm and soothing then you had in weeks.

Jon was caught between the concepts. Slowly shifting things as to not disturb you too much, Jon moved everything but the two of you off his bed, before turning to watch you carefully. The last time you fell asleep in his bed, it was in far more innocent times then what ran unspoken between you both now. He didn't want you to feel pressured, but Jon knew you were feeling the air between you different, and he did not wish to return to when it felt otherwise.

It was heavy and electric, but neither of you were such forward seducers to act upon it so brazenly. But, Jon still knew such feelings were there. So, instead of gently carrying you to your room and tucking you into your bed, Jon made a risky choice. Slowly helping you lay down on your side, Jon ran a hand over the hair at the side of your head, ensuring you hadn't stirred awake. Across the room, Jon turned his light off, and opening his curtains a slight bit to let some of the moonlight guide his vision.

On one end by the foot of the bed, the slumbering white ball of fur called Ghost slept soundly as you did, as if failing his guard duty to keep you safe laying only feet from him. But as Jon carefully climbed back onto his bed, he laid on his side to face you.

He watched at first, only watched. The peace in your face there was unlike the past years as tormenting figures appeared in and out of your life. Never did Jon presume his place, he was your best friend and he refused to act as if that made him obligated to your feelings. But it wasn't the same now, you had been keeping your own locked up just as, if not more tightly away from the world. Only coming out twice.

Jon knew now that was what Tanner was trying to tell him that day. That started the fight the morning he came to get you. You had spoken Jons name in the heat of the encounter, and then did it once more months later with Ramsay. He didn't want you to think you should stay here with him, but Jon also refused to allow you to push this all away in favour of lessening your value, to running to the next horrid man.

For now, as Jons hand ran up and down your arm, did you shift closer, and he spared no time in pulling your front into his chest. Meekly, your slumbering hands reached up, grabbing the edges of his shirt as if begging him to keep you there. And as he found a home to sleep in your hair and you in his torso, only quiet was found.

If you had one thing you needed to accomplish that day, it was to ask. You had to, even if you didn't like the answer, it was no longer appropriate to hide such wonders when he knew what you had done. But, part of you wished he wouldn't make it so difficult to be blunt about it. You had clearly fallen asleep watching the movie, and woken up in his warm, gentle embrace tucked into his chest. It felt right, and it also meant it felt unfair.

Jon should only show you such affection if he understood your mind had not moved on yet, if he wished to pull away then that was how it would have to be, but hiding your worry about it was not conducive to your dynamic anymore. But gods he made it so hard to get to it. Not even realizing you weren't alone in the waking world, Jon rasped in your ear so thick from the early morning it was just a heavy husk of a Northern accent slurring together. “Too early to think this much, darling.”

You breathed out a small smile, almost swearing you could feel him smile in your hair in return. Hardly loud enough to be heard by any not directly as close as Jon, you whispered back not yet yelling go of your fingertips toying with his shirt. “Not for how long I've been awake.” Oh that deep chuckle so close to your ear was deathly.

One of his hands around your hip and waist shifted up to run smoothing over your hair, slightly raking through the strands to pull a relaxing in your muscles against him. “Alright, why don't you wake me up by telling me what's going on inside here.” This thumb leaving it's touch to lightly tap at your head as if to indicate what he meant.

You had told yourself, ask it today. It came out as light, strained and breathless as if felt. “Are you never going to bring up what I did?” Instead of the hesitation you feared and worried, instead came the same soothing nature as he pulled you a bit closer.

Taking his own time to answer without making you worry of the passing moments to do so. “You mean when you called my name out in bed with Ramsay, or when you did the same thing with Tanner?” Your frozen nature must have given your shock away. “Wasn't difficult to put together once I knew the truth.”

Your voice muffled by his torso, but you were almost emotional at how grateful you felt he hadn't yet made you leave his warm comfort. “Aren't you mad?” Asking for what, you did not sound any more confident. “I violated your trust. Twice. Then hid it from you and lied about it.”

Once more his chuckle was utterly unfair, and his voice rasped so deep as his hands almost held you a bit tighter if you weren't imagining things. “Would you like to know what I was doing when you called my name out with Ramsay?” Not a clue how blind sighted you were about to feel, you shook your head before noticing for certain that time he held you tighter. “I was scrolling through all those voice notes you send to me, while my other hand was around my cock.”

Blood within you flooded with something warm like a burn, and only as you let a shaking breath out did Jon begun to somewhat ran his hand back to the side of your head, thumb much more firmly tilting you to suddenly meet his eyes, dark normally in colour but now the grey appeared closer to sinking into a black. “Why?”

Far too handsome for his own good when he laughed deeply, knowing your breath hitched as he leaned forward. Only to nudge your nose with his, letting his trace down yours. It seemed if your question was to be honest, he'd let his be as well. “Because I wanted to have you in my bed, instead of hearing you in yours with another man.”

Lips parting slightly, your eyes were wide trying to contain how both confusing yet unrealistic that sounded so early. And yet there was not a shred of lies or doubt within his gaze, only something far too dark yet affectionate that you wished to melt into. “But..you- why not say anything before I even met Ramsay..”

Thumb running firmly over your cheek, Jon had yet to pull away from you the rest of the way. Your mind trying to tell you otherwise, that you were imagining any other feeling. Jon though, was not you, and did not care about hiding it seemed now that the topic had been broached. “You finally had the courage to leave Tanner, I wasn't going to ambush you about my feelings when you needed someone to just be there for you. No matter how much I wanted you, still want you.”

Shifting you both every so sightly, Jon moved so you lay more on your back, and he partially still on his side, but somewhat hovered over you. Now looking at you with those bright eyes, curls all still pulled back from the night before. The hand on you cheek turned much more selfish in not pulling away from where it roamed. Tucking some of your hair behind your ear, before once more nudging your nose with his almost as it to tempt you with how close his lips would be at such a motion.

It felt like such an utterly girlish and child like question to ask, “Would all you want it to be is just..sex?”

Jons chuckle once more was deep, laced with something dark that should have set your nerves off and yet on him it only lit the fire within your bloodstream to flow. Muttering close enough to your lips you felt his breath dance across your skin as he cupped your cheek and jaw more to his control. “I want everything, all of it, as long as it's with you. I always have.”

Looking back up to his eyes, Jon looked you over carefully for a moment but in the heavy silence, slowly took over in seeking a path. Glancing between you and your lips, Jon was so close to closing that gap only as long as it took for your hands to so very willingly reach up to grasp at his shoulders and part of the back of his neck. The moment your own eyes slipped closed, you barley needed to move a single breath forward, for Jon to close the gap between his lips and yours.

Jons lips were softer then you could have dreamed of, guiding you in an instant as if kissing you was what he had been waiting for all his life, and not for a second did he waste time. Pushing up to hover over you properly, his hand at your face slid to cup the back of your neck, keeping you pressed to his lips with no escape. Not urgent, nor greedy, and without the incessant ask for you to get to it. Jon kissed you as if he enjoyed kissing you.

Which in truth, was foreign. Men didn't spend time kissing you unless they wanted to fuck, they didn't enjoy kissing, you had always thought that was the case with your limited experience. But Jon deepened his kiss as if the idea of leaving you yet was devastating, as if he sought salvation and he found it through kissing you rougher and needier. Small sounds left your chest, hands tight on Jons shoulders he begun to gently bite at your bottom lip.

Small as if only a nibble, it grew more and more of a bite until he tore a gasp from you, which was his sly plan. Using the opportunity to glide his tongue into your mouth, he brushed up against your tongue as if guiding you to explore him back all the same. Hardly did you, but hovering above you on the bed Jon was in control regardless. Stealing your very breath and drawing up small whines of need before he would pull back to only a deep kiss.

But then he'd bite and once more the entire process repeated but his need grew each and every routine. Harsher did he kiss you as your legs slid, bent by the knees you let them sit at Jons side when he tore from your lips. The saliva between you snapping as he spared no time in running his kiss along your ear and down to your neck. Lips and tongue setting the stage as he suddenly would bite down.

A gasp clawed from within, back arching up into his touch as Jon suddenly with a growl in his own chest begun to then suck at where his teeth indented into your sensitive skin, forcing the colours to turn to a tingling bruise of his making, swiftly marking down and down your neck until he reached the collar of his shirt. Hoisting himself back up, capturing your lips once more deep and breath taking did he pull back.

Both hands pressed beside your head as he looked down at you with a darker, more serious gaze. “Tell me if I'm taking this too far.” But you only shook your head, trying to desperately seek his kiss but Jon gently pushed you back down flat against his bed. That time his brows furrowing as if seeking something in your own need. “I mean it, we don't have to do this, any of this. Whatever you want we can take our time.”

It was a heart pounding need stealing your lungs away, and only a scrap of voice drenched in desire was left. Without even the means of seduction, it came off as better then any temptress could possible use her wiles towards Jon with. “We've already imagined it separately, but now I want to know what being with my best friend really feels like.”

Jons eyes fluttered closed, a low sound grunting inside to maintain but he surged back to cup the back of your head to leave a harsh, biting kiss to your needing lips before tearing away and back down the already sensitive trail he left on your neck. Kneeling up a bit for the leverage, Jon grasped the ends of his shirt on your body, looking up dark and face twisted so seriously to your expression. The single second it took for you to nervously nod yes, Jon had yanked it up off of you and tossed it far as if offended it covered you up for so long.

Staring at your heaving chest, Jon almost tore up in a glare had you not known any better. “You were with me all night and weren't wearing anything under this?” Your head shook no as the air shivered along your skin. Eyes closing again to sigh much more deeply Jon let a a hand reach up. Rough and calloused was striking against the soft skin of your chest, but it was as if his hands were made to fit with your breasts perfectly. Kissing back to your neck, now just as greedy at your collarbones, Jon spared no shame in only grasping at your other breast for the time it took for his lips to reach it. One hand pinching the small, pink bud of your breast to stiffen it up for his hand to twist at, chest arching up more for him while his teeth sunk into your other breast. Biting the same as his hand twisted the other and your hips writhed desperately at the feeling.

Trying to reach for his own shirt, Jon used his free hand to snatch yours, slamming it down beside your head and intertwining his fingers with yours, without ever easing up the treatment sparking such a burning coil within. Gasping his name, Jon bit and sucked at your breast as his hand groped a tightness that in another mans touch would've hurt. But Jon kept you on the precipice of pleasure and just enough pain to keep you pliable for him.

Pulling from you, Jons eyes scoured his work and the trail of saliva left on your breasts no doubt you could feel in the cooler morning air. His hands were slow as he reached your the top of your pants, but the second you didn't blink or flinch but slightly raised your hips Jon stared at every inch of skin pulling them from you revealed to him.

Tossing them away, Jon ran his hands up your calves as they once more parted for either side of his body, Jon held at your thighs. Spread for him and nothing hiding the rest, you had been next to him for hours this bare under the basest of clothes and yet he was only finding out now.

But he allowed you to lean up, drag his own shirt up and over his head. Grasping the back of your neck as you leaned up towards him, Jon licked back into your mouth much more freely groaning as he hoisted one thigh up at the side of his hip. Only the lower and lower down your body Jons lips and kiss explored the more your heart begun to pound irregularly, something unsure in your head making you sit up away from him when you realized. “What are you doing?”

Jons eyes were wide, almost as if stunned at your sudden confusion. “Wh- I'd like to taste you, darling-” Interrupting with a short and high pitched ask of why, Jon almost breathed a laugh. Leaning up to better meet your now on edge posture sitting up on your elbows. “Because I've always dreamed of it, because I really want you to feel good.”

You had no way of knowing how much you were ruining him, how hard you were making his cock still hidden under the jeans he fell asleep in. “No, I mean why would you ever want to do that?”

There seemed to be a disconnect. The ease in which Jon was so sure of the ways he wished to explore you, and you not at all grasping why Jon would want to do things Karl and Ramsay told you men absolutely hated. Tilting his head, he ran his fingertips along your cheek some. Sighing through his nose trying to collect his thoughts, low and rasping he explained to you. “Because if your lips taste that good alone, I'm dying to know how you taste between your legs. And I promise it will feel good for you.”

But you shook your head. “No it-” Sighing out of something unsure, you shifted up a bit more as Jon, returned to hovering somewhat over you. His hand never leaving your touch as it ran along your gentle cheek. Collecting your thoughts, ignoring how your neck and breasts stung with the same bruising from his mouth, and yet feeling lightheaded at how much you like the feeling. “Men only do that stuff in videos, none of you really want to do that.”

You didn't understand why Jon was looking at you that way. Confused and if you weren't mistaken, almost a bit heartbroken. Asking roughly and short in tone, “What else did those two say. About sex, about what people do together?”

That was easy, they told you consistent things. Which was why you were so confused as if it was the first time anyone was telling Jon something men were all supposed to have agreed on. Anything a man does to you, you owe him back, be it between your legs or getting on your knees. All that romantic stuff was for movies and all the stuff men did in porn to pleasure women was just that, for porn. They didn't like it, they both were just actors doing a job.

He had to look way for a moment, Jon couldn't look at the genuine, almost innocent expression on your face as you said all of this. Hands curling onto a fist as they rested beside your body in the sheets but he shook his head. Jaw clenching trying to keep it together before rasping out, “I need you to listen to me. And I don't mean to hurt your feelings, but you need to hear this. Karl and Ramsay were just using you for sex. They didn't care how you felt or if you liked it, they wanted to fuck you and all they cared about was that you let them.”

He was right, you didn't really feel good inside your heart hearing it. But it paired so oddly with the way he was looking at you with something you were a bit scared to admit you were hoping looked like love. Your voice was as week and unsure. “I..I just wanted to do this right this time..Ramsay used to always leave to go see another girl.. so I started just doing what he wanted because I thought he was losing interest because I was doing it wrong.”

Were you not laying gently out and naked on his bed, Jon may have found the anger in him to lash out at that. Unable to stop thinking that you knew, you knew Ramsay saw other girls and he wouldn't put it passed Karl to do the same. You were someone he loved, but in a way Jon knew he had his work cut out for him with you. You had a lot to learn about your own pleasure.

Leaning into you, Jon forced you to lay back down against his bed. Capturing your lips in a quick but biting kiss, muttering into them as he pulled back. “Will you let me prove you wrong? Will you let me taste you? Make you feel good like you deserve?” Trying to ask what about him and Jons eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head desperate for his mouth to just drink between your legs already. A growl deep in his words. “I promise, darling. This is as much for me, as it is for you.”

Nodding with a hesitant, “Please..” Jon knew he had to control his need. He'd keep you here pinned to his mouth another time, but right now he needed to show you why you deserved this kind of pleasure and why he wanted it so badly. “I trust you, Jon.”

His kiss was much softer then, muttering “I'll take care of you.”

Moving down, Jon hoisted one of your thighs up over his shoulder, nudging your other open wider on his bed as you shook. Feeling his warm breath, Jon pressed a gentle kiss to your clit. Jumping slightly in his tough, he reached out to grasp your hips, gently shushing you. “It's alright, I've got you.”

Each subsequent kiss was slowly followed by his tongue gently licking at the bundle of nerves, building the fire within up and up within you but keeping you perched on the edge of an orgasm, already feeling somewhat embarrassed by how quickly he worked you to it. Jon however, hardly cared. Sucking it more before running his tongue tightly against it, his eyes closed you felt his facial hair burn between you, gasping out at the roughness contrasted to his mouth licking and nibbling at your clit. But yet, it was another gentle kiss which pushed you. Arching off the bed, Jon grasped your free leg and threw it over his shoulder before yanking you down the bed.

Tongue hot and wet, licking flat down your folds to your core and were his eyes not closed he'd have them rolling onto the back of his head at the taste. If possible, you came quicker. Barley managing to drink every bit of wetness you gifted him between your legs, Jon heard you cry his name with breathless pleas as if this was even a fraction of how long he'd keep you there. Licking flat, he ran his tongue just barley inside of your cunt as you let go once more.

You had not realized how terribly worked up you felt until your orgasm let free within Jons tasting mouth as he grunted against you. Drawing back up to your clit he let those sparks of twisting need feel overwhelmed a bit more before kissing up your mound and to your stomach. Your mind a mess, not noticing really what he was doing now as your eyes closed and ringing in your ears from something so burning so addictingly inside your core.

By the time Jon surged upwards, he gently hooked your hip at his thigh, leaning to kiss you again, your hands winding behind his neck. A gentle smile came over him as he pulled away, “I know it was a lot, but tell me, did you enjoy it?” Nodding, still catching your breath, he smiled brighter. A single kiss to your lips. “Good, because we're going to do that longer and longer each time from now on. I want you to feel as good as I do. Now, we don't have to do anything more,”

Just as Jon trailed off, you felt a shiver run down your spine and arms into your chest. Feeling his cock gently run along your soaked core, you hadn't even been in the head space to notice when he took everything else off of himself. It was overwhelming, being bare against Jon who matched in his bed like this, but you couldn't feel the nerves normally present. You looked up at his bright grey eyes and closed yours to kiss him.

Hardly pulling back to whisper, “Please, Jon. I want to feel you inside me, I've wanted to for so long..”

Dropping his head in your neck, he muttered just as low and rough. “I know, darling. I know.” You read the unspoken of his own desire matching so perfectly for so long yet only now were about to join in a harmony.

Sliding inside of you slowly, Jon growled without removing himself from your neck at how smoothly you took his entire cock, but yet the tensing of nails in his skin at your sharp gasp. He stretched you so thick, you felt woozy thinking of his size, of how deep he was. A shameful thought would your hand even be able to wrap around him.

But he slid deep, and never sped up. Slowly pulling almost all the way out, Jon slowly pushed back in. Your cunt soaking around him, but only small sounds shared in the air other then the obscene sound each time his cock sunk deep as you were utterly wet around him. To either man before him, this pace would be unbearable and awful. But with Jon, you felt as shaking in need clenching around him as he throbbed inside of you.

Pulling up, his eyes hooded and his lips parted, he kissed you with a sloppiness that you matched, each slow thrust of his cock somehow less urgent then the gentle, slow manner he kissed your lips. Every step of the way you felt embarrassed how you came so easily, but Jon never stopped for one. Until you would cry out from too much, Jon wouldn't leave.

Slowly letting his cock push deep inside of you, licking his way into your mouth to match such a pace, but he kept going. Throbbing deeply as you let a leg wrap somewhat around him, Jon groaned your name just barley against your lips. As unexpected as your end was found with him inside you, Jon almost surprised himself with how suddenly he finished. Throbbing inside of your soaking, tight walls, Jon suddenly buried his head in your hair, pulling you to his neck as he pressed tightly against you into the bed.

Spilling inside of you, you felt his seed was somehow almost hot. Thick that you felt strange taking so much of it so deep but you let your other leg find your ankle around his back as Jon almost grasped at your waist to keep you steady as he slowly filled you with his thick, pouring seed. Your heart feeling light in your chest, but as Jon pulled you both up to meet your lips something in his passion told you he felt the same floating feeling.

Though you did notice, how he had yet to lose any shred of how hard his cock was inside of you despite cumming mere seconds ago. And when Jon didn't pull out, only sped his pace up just the slightest as he once more thrusted in and out of your cunt, his forehead leaned against your as you wrapped up in each other.

It was slow, and not urgent, and still very much brand new to a strange degree but Jons cock gentle inside of you was the first time you both felt as if you finally fit into each others life properly.

It was some hours later when you both properly emerged to the world. Only after Jon had lost his control when trying to clean you both up, and pressed you against the wall of the shower. Holding your hands above your head against the tile as he slid inside of you again and again. Only when the water turned cold did he pull out.

Each time a little faster, a little rougher, and a little more greedy for what you finally let him sink his cock deep inside as if you both desperately needed it. Which you did, only, your hearts also followed such a connection that time.

The topic though, was not at all addressed in the apartment until that evening when Robb and Theon came home. Jon had currently been hovering by you looking into the fridge as you both decided what you would cook together. His hand so freely pressing against your lower back in such an intimate stance for two best friends.

Theon had commented first, much to how quickly it made you playfully roll your eyes. “So, are we turning your room into a nursery, or have you two not moved everything into his yet?”

Robb's laugh was louder then Theons, but nowhere near as free and amused as Jons as he joined. Pulling your head close to press a kiss to the side of your hair, did it clue in. They had all been waiting for something to happen.

You were just the last one to find out it was not for anything morose. Theon and Robb had simply put bets as to how long it would take for Jon to finally make a move. Though, considering both of them handed the silver to Jon instead, your realized no matter what changed between the love you felt for your best friend, you still lived with three brothers who all were very unaffected by this new development.

Theon once more asking in jest about the nursery thing, and in truth, Jon had left you entirely flustered as he muttered both into your ear and loud enough for the others to hear, “We have a lot of years to make up for, shouldn't take long.” Your hanging head and deep sigh had all three laugh at your expense that time.

Some things it seemed, would always stay the same between you four.

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

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