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a-spes · 5 months ago

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| DEVIOUS LIES — Part two (8.790 words).

| Summary — Anon Request — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It has been two years, and you can't stop think about what you lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.

| Tags & warnings — Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader, AoS!OC x Avenger!Reader, Other Avengers, angst without comfort, cheating, mental health issues, suicidal ideations, self depreciation, mentions of SA&SH, manipulation, toxic relationship (OCxR), revenge porn, use of drugs.

| Author's notes — I don't know how I feel about that second part, i'm not sure i like it, but now it's written it costs me nothing to share. So here we are. I can just hope that I managed to convey, at least a little, the emotions I wanted to. And, most importantly, take care of yourself.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).

Almost a year has gone by, and it means one thing: in a few weeks, it’s going to be Natasha's birthday, again. The woman is not sure how she feels about it. She never really had a birthday before she joined the Avengers, and despite the years that have passed since, she still feels a certain awkwardness at this time of the year. Especially as the boys tended to do too much.

She could only pretend to match their enthusiasm. A slight smile spreads across her face as she takes a sip from her drink, staying silent. She has been listening to her teammates talking about her birthday’s party for almost half an hour now. She stopped trying to avoid it a long time ago, when she realized how much they enjoyed organizing this stupid party. She can deal with anything they’re going to come up with if she gets to see their smiles in exchange. Her sentence won’t last more than a few hours, but the memories are going to stick with them for eternity, and it has no price.

"Wait, you know what?” someone asked. It was Clint, and by the mischievous smile on his face, the redhead already knew that she wouldn't appreciate the next words that are going to come out of his mouth. “I think we should have the mascot come over again," he added, his eyes not leaving hers. "What? It was funny to have a cartoon version of you running around," he defended himself when he saw her glance darkening.

"You know what? Do whatever you want," she mumbled, “it’s not as if you were asking for my opinion anyway,” she eventually gave in. Sometimes, you have to know how to pick your battles, and that is one she definitely cannot win, not when all the others seem to appreciate the idea.

"That’s such a great idea!” one exclaimed, and this time it was Peter Parker, “Mr. Stark, do you think they would accept to come again?” he asked the man.

"Obviously!" Tony replied without an ounce of hesitation, laughing at the question. The man thought it was a stupid thing to ask, "she likes you too much to miss your birthday,” he explained, pointing at the redhead while saying those words. "What? She pretends it’s not true, but I know she is lying. I can see right through her and, believe me, she’ll be here," he explained when he noticed the confused looks of his teammates.

"Who’s she?" a voice asked, cutting short to Tony’s rambling. That’s the question that has been on everyone’s minds, but that no one dared to ask out loud, except for one of them — And it hasn’t been Natasha, it is Steve that spoke first.

On the contrary, the woman remained silent because she didn’t need words to express herself, a silent conversation taking place between the billionaire and her through a simple glance. Even if she already has her suspicions, and is almost sure that she knows the answer to that question, she wants him to say it, refusing to believe it otherwise.

The moment she saw the box, she was intrigued by it, something drawing the woman to the small package that no one claimed as theirs. It’s almost as if it came out of nowhere, no one knowing who left it here, or what may be inside the black box. At first, she thought it was some joke, but she knew they were being honest when saying they had nothing to do with the gift. And if she had expected a lot of things to be wrapped in the red ribbon, she definitely wasn’t ready for a ghost from her past to emerge from it.

A quick glance before she suddenly closes the box again, that’s all it took for the redhead to know who was behind that gift. The only thing she could think about was how — How did it happen without any of them noticing your presence? Despite the appearances, and the smile she was trying to keep on, the woman was shaken — Why would you do that, more than two years after your break up? Could it be that you are that desperate?

"Is everything okay?" Clint asked, being the only one to seem to notice a change in Natasha’s behavior. At least, everyone had enough restraint to not ask the question that burns their lips — What’s inside the box?

She wouldn’t have answered if one of them had asked. She wouldn’t even have opened the gift if she had known that it was from you, and that’s probably why you left it on the table, avoiding giving it to her directly. Smart girl, she thought. At first sight, the woman couldn’t tell it was coming from you but there was no doubt remaining once she saw the content — There is only one person on Earth that cares enough to give her such a gift. A person that constantly looks after her, guessing what the redhead wasn’t telling.

A person that she used to love.

A person that couldn’t be here, was she? The woman can’t help but glance around but she can’t find your face. What was she expecting anyway? To see you in the corner of the room with a bright smile and your arms open for her to throw herself in a hug? That was stupid, and so is the hint of hope she felt when she opened the box. The others told her many times she has to turn the page, but she doesn’t seem ready to let you go. Even after two years, she is still craving your presence as much as before.

The thought of it puts to shame the redhead who knows she shouldn’t hold on to the past, especially when the past in question has a pretty face and breaks her heart. Even after what you’ve done to her, she has spent hours crying, praying for you to come back. Even after listening to the others assuring her that she deserves better, she couldn’t forget how you’ve always been the most caring, and strong, and beautiful person she has ever met in her life.

You weren’t horrible. Were you?

Sometimes, she thinks you are a monster.

Sometimes, she thinks she is, for not listening to you that day.

That day, she let her anger speak for her, something she swore she would never do again. When she started to realize that, maybe, she should’ve listened to your version of the events, it was too late. At the time, she couldn’t bear to hear the sound of your voice or see your voice, but after two years, as the memory of it starts to fade away, she surprised herself to miss it.

Except that Fury had refused to tell her where you were. She tried to ask nicely, to beg, and even to threaten the man, but none of it worked. He said that you needed time, that you’ll be back when you are ready, not before. Despite her frustration, the woman accepted it. After all, she is the one to blame, the one that puts herself in such a situation. She could only hold on to the fact that, one day, you’ll be back. Right? As the days go by, the likelihood of ever seeing you again is gradually diminishing. Some nights, when she can’t sleep, she stays up, eyes fixed on her laptop’s screen — Maybe she could give fate a helping hand? She knows she could find you easily. Yet, despite her urge to do it, she has always ended up closing her laptop without starting the research.

She has to trust Fury, she repeats to herself. Even if she sometimes disagrees with the man, even if it’s frustrating, she has to believe him when he says that you are safe.

Some other nights, all she can feel is anger, and hatred. The redhead is lost, and scared, again, something she never thought she would feel again the day you two met. What if it was true, and you really cheated on her? Then, you could do it again if she forgives you, because history always repeats itself, and you are no exception to the rules of the universe. She knows how people tend to promise a lot of things that they don’t mean, especially when they are desperate, which is exactly what you’ve been that day. She couldn’t forget the look on your face when she dragged you out of the building, the despair in those bright eyes, glistening with tears. This is the only thing she can remember when she thinks about you. Not the good moments you’ve shared, only the brutality of the end of your relationship.

You've abandoned her, and so did she.

It has been three since she last saw you, and almost a year since her birthday party, but the woman couldn’t stop thinking about it. She didn’t take the gift, leaving the jewelry in the box, and the box on a shelf. She hasn't touched it since. How could she when just the sight of it was already too much to bear?

Every day, when she wakes up, it is one of the first things she sees, and one of the last when she goes to sleep. If it doesn’t feel right to the woman to take the gift, it doesn’t feel right to throw it in the bin either, so it stayed here as a constant reminder of what she has done. Every time she thinks she is finally over it, the box rekindles her doubts. There are some things she can’t quite understand about the situation, and why you would give her such a gift, two years after she kicked you out, is one of them.

Maybe it was a poisoned gift. Maybe it was a sick trick to make her feel guilty, a way to get her to crawl back to you. Beside these possibilities, she couldn’t think of any others that were likely, and she was afraid to admit that your plan was working. The box was a permanent reminder of your existence, something she couldn’t get herself to give away because of those dumb feelings she was experiencing. Somehow, she was holding on to that last piece of your years together after she threw away everything else with the help of the team.

The pictures, the clothes, the gifts, even your favorite cutlery has been burned a few days after you left them. It is almost as if you’ve never stepped a foot into the building, as if you’ve never existed. The woman was fine with the idea of pretending that nothing happened — She was fine with the idea of erasing every remaining part of your relationship.

Except that black box. It is stupid how she hangs onto that last proof of the relationship she once had with you. She had burned everything, but she couldn’t get herself to do the same with that gift. Maybe because she knew that she could never erase you completely from her life. She surely could pretend, it is a game she is really good at, but you would always be on the back of her mind because memories don't go away as easily as objects do.

Since she had opened the box, doubt had been creeping inside of her — What if? What if she has been wrong the whole time? What if she should have listened to you? Give you a second chance? That day, her reaction had been dictated by anger and hatred, feelings that still inhabit her soul, but have faded over the years. For two years, she had been sure that she made the right choice — At least, that’s what everyone kept telling the woman, and she listened to their comforting words.

But since she opened the box, she was no longer sure of anything. She wasn’t the one that wanted you gone in the first place. She surely needed a bit of space before being able to talk with you properly, but only a few days, maybe a few weeks, not two years, and definitely not more than that. That little box only worsened her doubt because who would be desperate enough to still cling to the person they betrayed, years after the events? A person truly in love. She had kept her doubts for herself before that day. If she is almost sure of the identity of the person who gave her the box, because there is only one person on that planet that cares enough to gift her something so meaningful, there are still a lot of questions to which she doesn’t have the answers — For example, how did you manage to sneak into the building without everyone knowing? She now knows that someone knew the whole time.

“Tell me,” she firmly asked the man, leaving little room for discussion.

No one pointed out the thing he has said about the mascot, the subject of the conversation quickly changed after that. Except, while they were talking about which flavor the cake should be, Natasha could think of nothing but Tony’s words — “She likes you too much to miss your birthday”, “she pretends it’s not true but I know she is lying.” So when everyone eventually decided to go back to their rooms, around two in the morning, she stayed a bit longer in the common room in hope of getting some information.

“Sorryy, I can’t, I don’t know anything,” the man replied, indifferent to her tone, “anything at all,” he repeated, chuckling like a child who has done something wrong.

The woman sighs, pinching her nose as she takes a deep breath, trying to not lash out her frustration on the man. The conversation isn’t exactly going the way she had hoped, Tony refusing to answer her question no matter how many times she has already asked. She even tried to blackmail him, but he was persistent in pretending that he didn’t know anything. When he almost falls on the ground trying to get a few steps back, it has been the last straw for the woman. Gladly, someone entered the room before she could hit him so hard that it would have sobered him in an instant.

"Is everything okay?" the voice asked, and both of them immediately shut up to turn their heads toward the woman who just entered the room, Astrid. She is leaning in the doorway, her gaze alternating between Tony and Natasha.

She hates her. Not as much as she hates you, but she still feels resentful toward the agent. When she smiles, when she speaks, even when she is just here, existing, the woman can’t help but hate her from the depths of her heart. Gladly, she rarely sees her, as an agent of the S.H.I.E.L.D., she is only around when they have outstanding missions. If Natasha had a choice, she would’ve thrown her away with you that day.

"She wants me to admit that her girlfriend was the one in the costume," he immediately replied, "but sshht, we can’t let her know that!" he added, holding his index finger in front of his mouth for a few seconds before leaving the room giggling.

"I know what happened," she eventually said when she noticed that Natasha was about to leave after a few seconds when they glanced at each other in silence. "Th- That night, in the motel room~," she added, her voice being hesitant. Those words made the redhead stop in her tracks.

"If you're about to rub in my face how you've ruined my life, you can shut up," she immediately cut her, not wanting to listen to the woman, not if it’s to tell her about how she fucked the woman she loves. Her voice was full of anger, just like the murderous look in her eyes. The only thing that prevented the woman from immediately leaving the room was the thing she saw in the other’s eyes. Her attitude betrayed her emotions, a mix of guilt, sadness, and shame, which aroused her curiosity.

With a nod, she ordered her to continue.

That morning, as many others, you are woken up by your girlfriend’s gentle touches, her fingers slowly tracing circles on your stomach. A hum of satisfaction escapes your lips before your turn around, nuzzling your head further into the crook of her neck.

How could you have known it would be the last time? How could you have possibly guessed that the routine you’ve got used to would be broken so quickly?

Every morning, it is the same thing, and while the former spy has no problems getting up early, you definitely can’t say the same for yourself. She is always awake before you are and, even if she had never admitted it, you are sure that she takes a few minutes to observe your sleeping form. She loves seeing you so peaceful and calm, being able to have a glimpse of your face without those worry lines, without the marks of your anxieties.

She is always the one who wakes you up, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. There is no better way to start a day than Natasha’s sweet words and caresses. It’s her fault if you never want to get out of bed, wishing every morning that you could stay in that bed, next to her, for the rest of your life. Sometimes, you suggest that you tell the others you are sick, just to spend a day together, but she just laughs, dismissing your idea.

But all the good things must come to an end, right?

"It's time to get up, milaya," she softly said in your ear, her breath tickling your skin, "Astrid won't be happy if you are late again," she added when the only answer you gave her was a groan of discontent.

"They won't say anything if I am late once, it's okay", you mumbled, her words not being enough to convince you to leave the comfort of her arms.

Especially when you realize that there is nothing to get excited about the day ahead of you, in perspective, only hours spent in an office, listening to men who think they know everything better than you do. Today, you are supposed to attend an important meeting alongside Astrid, and you still don’t know why you volunteered. The thought of the paperwork and the efforts that you will have to put in pretending that you are actually happy to be here definitely don’t worth your pay.

Except that you’ve lied to Natasha, and she knows it. This is definitely not the first time that you are being late, it happens almost every day, to the point that the day you are in time can probably be counted on your hands. Gladly, when you are coming in the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters, it's Astrid who’s your supervisor, and she appears to also be your best friend. Most of the time, she is kind enough to accept to close her eyes on your delays. Today, you came in only ten minutes late, and the woman was somehow impressed, expecting you to be later than that.

“You’re late, again,” she replied, obviously waiting for an excuse that you don't have. She would know if you are lying to her, and you don't have the energy for that kind of game today, and you could see that the woman neither. She was starting to get tired of every day starting with the same bullshit coming from your mouth.

“I am so, so, sorry,” you said to her for what may be the tenth time since you’ve entered the office. She is walking fast, and you are trying to catch up with the black-haired woman, who is also your superior within the S.H.I.E.L.D. “Please, don’t tell Fury,” you begged, but all she did was roll her eyes, and give you a file when you eventually reached her office. You quickly glanced at it before closing it again, your attention focused on the woman, “Astrid, I am serious. He is going to give me more paperwork if you do. Or worse. Imagine if he forces me to train the new recruits, you know I can’t do that again. Please, …,” you added, looking at her imploringly.

“And what do I have in exchange?” she sighed, turning around to look at you, one eyebrow raised. Despite her serious expression, you know she was trying to not laugh. She may be your boss, but above all she is your friend, and you both know that she would never tell Fury about your delays. Even if she has threatened you to do so a few times in the past, she has never actually done it. Yet, this time she felt like she needed something in exchange, she had covered for you enough time for free, and you were happy to thank your friend with whatever she may want.

“Anything you want!” you replied, desperate but no less honest.

“Tonight, after work, you pay me a drink, deal?” she asked after pretending to think for a few seconds. In reality, she already knew what she wanted from you. She has thought about asking you out since the moment you met, something you’ve never noticed, always reducing her to the role of a friend, and not keeping up on the clues she was leaving you. Tonight, however, she will be clearer than she has ever been.

“Deal!” you immediately said, accepting the proposal without thinking twice about it. "Thank you. Thank you so, so much. You are the best," you added, kissing your friend on the cheek before leaving the room quickly, a sight that made the woman chuckle.

It is a deal that makes you both happy. You have met Astrid at the Academy, when you were both trainees that dreamed of joining the S.H.I.E.L.D. without even knowing if you were good enough for that. The two of you quickly became close — That’s the kind of thing that happens where you are the only two females of your promotion. Either you hate each other over your dead bodies, or you grow so close that you become inseparable.

Except that, since you've both achieved your dreams and joined S.H.I.E.L.D, something changed in your relationship. It wasn’t your fault, nor hers, that you had less time to see each other, your jobs taking a lot of your time and energy. Then you've been assigned on a long-term mission with the Avengers, and you’ve spent less time at the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters despite still working for the organization. Then you've met Natasha, and you feel like you’ve slightly grown apart from each other after you’ve announced to her your new relationship. On the whole, you had less time to spend with your best friend, and the promises to make up for the lost time have never been kept, not until today. That deal was the perfect occasion to spend a bit of time together outside of the office work.

You both really hoped that this night would make things back as they were before.

"You know, I love her," she confessed to the redhead, her voice being barely louder than a whisper as she felt tears filling her eyes. "Since the day we met, I have loved her. That's what I told her, that night, when we went out," she admitted, and Natasha felt her heart pounding in her chest, her hands were shaking with apprehension, “but she rejected me. She loves you so much, too much," she sadly chuckled, but the redhead felt no relief when she heard those words because they were not explaining the pictures. She can't cry, not now, not in front of that woman.

"Continue," she ordered, feeling that the woman had more to say than that. She already knew that Astrid loved you, you may be the only one that hadn't seen it, or maybe you were pretending, or maybe you were blinded by your love for Natasha.

"I didn't plan to do that, you know," she started, carefully looking at the spy, "but I was so desperate that night, and I-," she said, except she was unable to finish her sentence, the words stuck in her throat.

The past three years, she had kept the truth a secret. At first, she thought it was better that way. The woman was ashamed of her actions, and she was relieved when heard that you’ve been transferred to another department, and she thought that her secret would be safe. Except that, if everyone acted as if you’ve never existed, her mind didn’t allow her to forget. Every hour of every day, you were in her mind, and the longer she thought about that night, the biggesther guilt became, until the burden was too heavy to bear. Tonight, hearing them argue about you, has been the last straw.

“What did you do?” she asked, sensing that something was wrong. She didn’t like the feeling that was creeping inside of her, “what. did. you. do.?” she asked once again, but more firmly that time, when the other didn’t immediately answer her question. As she saw the hesitation, she reduced the distance between them in a second, her hand gripping the collar of Astrid’s shirt that she pins to the wall abruptly, “tell me. Now,” she insisted as the interaction only reinforced the bad feeling she had.

That morning, unlike the others, you woke up alone. There haven’t been the gentle caresses of your girlfriend to wake you up, nor her sweet words to coax you into getting up. No, that day, it was only yourself, draped into the cold sheets, and it felt so strange, the silence and the loneliness of the room. Sadly, it has not been the exception you’ve wished it would be, but only the first of too many mornings like that.

In the sleepy state you were in, it took you a few seconds to realize that something was wrong, and almost a minute before you noticed that you weren’t home. You couldn’t even recognize the place you were in, only knowing that it looked like a hotel, a shitty one if you might say. The room was small, simple, and not-so-comfortable. There was something in the ambience that gave you an uneasy feeling about the whole thing, but you were unable to say what it was exactly.

Your head is throbbing, and you are definitely feeling nauseous, but you know that’s not the problem. Your physical distress isn’t the cause of the weight on your chest, the one that makes your breath aching, it’s something else that your mind can’t comprehend yet. It’s all these inconsistencies. The missing memories of last night, the unknown room, the fact that you are alone,... you don’t remember drinking that much last night. You may not be the most responsible person that planet has known, but you know how to handle yourself. Usually.

Could you have possibly drunk that much?

The day has barely started, but you already know it is going to be a rough one. If only you knew how right you were, maybe you would have taken a few more hours of sleep, enjoying the comfortable peace of your old life a bit longer before joining the chaos. Yet, you had no means to guess that your day would go that way.

It's a note left on the bedside table that answered all your questions, easing some of the worries that were creeping inside of you. Someone has written the following words : “Couldn’t get you home because of how drunk you were. don’t worry about being late today, I won’t tell Fury. however, had to go on a mission, be careful when you go home. I left you a bit of money, it should be enough to pay for the room and an Uber. Love you.” The message might not have been signed, but you can easily recognize Astrid’s handwriting. A smile spreads across your lips as you are reassured, the situation not being as bad as your mind made it look.

Some memories of last night flew back in your mind, but it’s only a glimpse of what happened, a lot of the events staying unknown to yourself. The last thing you can remember is the conversation you had with Astrid, when she admitted that she loved you and you replied that you too, thinking she meant as friends because you couldn’t see her any other way, not when you were already engaged in a relationship. The rest of the exchange is confused, and you are not sure what’s real and what has been made up by alcohol. Even today, you are still not sure.

Maybe you’ve really drunk too much that night.

Knowing that you’ve been with Astrid the whole time was reassuring, and you are no longer as bothered by the absence of memories. For a moment, you thought you'd been kidnapped by some weird man. As you regain your composure, your thoughts become clearer and you decide that the first thing you should do is to send a message to your girlfriend. She must be so worried, and your heart aches at the thought that you might be a source of problem for the woman you love.

It is not your kind to not keep your promises, and you’ve told her you would be home last night. It is not your kind either to not answer her messages or calls. In reality, you are quite the opposite, always sending her hundreds of messages when you are out with your friends. The only reason she hasn’t got after you is because she knew you were with Astrid, and she trusted you. However, the sweet messages are going to have to wait because, when you try to turn your phone on, you only encounter a black screen, a sign that you’ve run out of battery. Obviously, your friend didn’t think to leave you a charger.

You sigh, admitting your defeat. Shaking your phone surely won’t change the situation. For the moment, there is nothing more you can do, except hoping that Natasha won’t be too angry. As you are getting ready, your mind is focused on how to earn the redhead’s forgiveness — Maybe you could stop to buy her some flowers? You hate it, when the two of you are arguing. It doesn’t happen a lot, but it’s never pretty, and the mere thought that it might happen was already hurting.

As you definitely couldn’t go back to the compound by yourself, not knowing how far you were and being in a pitiful state, you decided to use the money left by Astrid to call a cab, as she instructed you to do. It’s not before you enter the car that you realize how late you actually were. It is almost one in the afternoon, and if you are not an early riser, like your girlfriend who is always up by six at the latest, you rarely get up after ten.

It has been a thirty minutes drive back to the compound, and the whole time you were thinking about two things: taking a shower, and leaning into your girlfriends’ arms. You are so exhausted, physically and mentally, that you’ve decided to skip work today — You were already so late that it wouldn’t make a big difference anyway. The journey was long, and those thirty minutes felt like hours.

Soon enough, you started to suffocate into your own mind, then skin. You felt so sweaty, and dirty, that it quickly became unbearable. Maybe it was the effects of the alcohol, or maybe because you’ve slept in a seedy motel, but the only thing you wanted was to get rid of the clothes you were wearing and the uncomfortable state you were in as soon as possible.

When you enter the compound, you find it empty, and so is the room you are sharing with the woman. If you frown, you don’t think much about it. If the building is rarely empty, it sometimes happens when emergencies are called. A whine escapes your lips as you realize that, if it’s true, they are going to be mad at you for not being here when they needed it. You can already feel your mind losing itself to self-hatred thoughts, as you mutter to yourself how stupid you are. You are going to need more than a few flowers to earn their forgiveness. The fact that JARVIS confirmed that everyone was at the S.H.I.E.L.D.'s quarters didn’t, you would have preferred to hear that they went to the restaurant without you rather than that.

Tears brimming your eyes, you quickly put your phone to charge. It is only when you get out of the shower, twenty minutes later, that you saw the missed calls and messages from Natasha. The most recent ones were sent a few minutes ago. There were too many of them for you to take time to read everything so you just sent her a quick text that said: “sorry, my battery was dead, and I couldn’t answer your calls. I’ll explain everything, I promise. see you soon. love you.” A message she saw but she didn’t answer, which is unusual and an obvious hint of how angry she probably is.

Despite your decision to not work today, you still end up in the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters. You are almost running in the corridors, going to the meeting room where you find your girlfriend, and the rest of the Avengers. When you stumble into the room, a deadly silence descends. None of them greeted you, and the only reaction you got was Fury’s nod when you started mumbling excuses for your late arrival. While your eyes immediately landed on the redhead, she didn’t glance at you once of the entire meeting. The sight made your heart sink. You love her, but you have to admit that the spy is scary when she has that stern expression on her face, one that leaves no room for discussion.

The safest decision was to sit on the furthest chair, leaving her space until you get the opportunity to explain yourself. Something that you hadn't had a chance to do before a few more hours, when you stumbled into her in the corridors. You have been lost in your mind, having a hard time focusing on your work. Earlier, when the meeting ended, she immediately left the room, not leaving you a chance to exchange a word with her, and it has been bugging you since.

“Please, wait,” you said, already begging the woman. When she heard your voice, she stopped, allowing you to gently grab at her arm so she didn't go. She could, if she wanted to, and a part of her did want to run away, but the rest of her knows that this conversation can’t be avoided. “Listen, I- I am sorry,” you started once you were sure she was willing to listen to your excuses, “I should have warned you, but I couldn’t, my phone’s battery was dead and, and- honestly? I don't remember much of what happened last night. All I know is that once was enough. It won't happen again,” you chuckled sadly. When you woke up that morning, you promised to yourself that it was the last time you drank that much. A promise you kept, and three years later, you still haven’t touched a bottle of alcohol. “I promise, 'tasha. Please, don't be mad at me for that, or at least tell me how I can make up for my mistake,” you said, and the woman knew she had heard enough.

“Seriously?” she scoffed, breaking free of your grip. “I can’t believe you are that stupid,” she said, as she started to walk away. But if she didn’t want to hear the sound of your voice any more, you, however, weren’t done yet.

"I know I’ve made a mistake, but I am fine, isn’t it the most important?” you asked, starting to follow. Except that, when she heard your steps in her back, she accelerated her pace. “I promise to be more careful next time but, you know, I can handle myself for one night. Well, I might have drunk a bit too much, but Astrid was wi~,” you tried to explain, except she cut short your ramblings. To say, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but the woman quickly cut you. She scoffed again, in disbelief this time.

"You are really stupid, aren't you?” she said, stopping in her tracks, and you almost ran into her, surprised by her sudden stop. A few more seconds passed before she turned around to face you, her posture matching her stern expression. “Do you think I don't know what happened last night, with Astrid? Do you really think I wouldn’t have known the truth?” she added, taking a step forward for every question she asked, and you took one back every time, until your back hit the walls. You would certainly have found the situation hot if she didn’t look like she was about to murder you.

“W- what?” you said, “you are mad because I went out with a friend. That’s the problem? Astrid is the problem?" you snapped, starting to feel frustrated about the whole situation.

You are tired, and the only thing you’ve wanted to do since you opened your eyes that morning — Throwing yourself in your girlfriend’s arms — was impossible to do. You hadn’t expected the woman to give you such a hard time. You knew she could be jealous sometimes, you’ve already had arguments about that in the past, but you’ve always been understanding because you know that her jealousy isn’t caused by a lack of trust. This feeling is fuelled by her own insecurities and past. Except that, that time, it was too much. The way she wouldn't listen to your excuses is seriously hitting on your nerves.

"Don't you dare to lie to me,” she said. For a moment, you thought she was going to hit you, but she took a step back before she could do that. She was angry too, taking deep breaths in an attempt to ease the feeling. “I trusted you,” she eventually added but her tone was different — The anger left her voice, replaced by pain. “I trusted you and, most importantly, I loved you,” she whispered, turning around to see you one last time. “After everything I have done for you, I can't believe that's how you are thanking me. You know, I really thought you were different, better," she laughed, trying very hard to not throw you against the walls or worse, to cry. The most insufferable was the look in your eyes, the false innocence. She was tired of pretending, she had given you enough chances to tell her the truth, “but you’re not,” but now, she was done trying.

That is the last time the two of you talked. The next time you’ve seen her, she hasn’t been kind enough to let you have a chance to explain things. She was done trying, and so were you. The last words she said are still ringing in your head, even years later. Maybe if you'd chased her once again that day, things would have ended differently, but you haven’t moved. You couldn’t, petrified by the conversation that just took place, you have just watched the redhead walking away without glancing back.

It’s only when you enter the break room that you understand the whole conversation you had with Natasha. No one was here, but the walls had been covered with pictures of yourself. At first, you thought it was a prank from your teammates’ but the pictures were all but innocent. You felt your heart sink when you took down one of the photos to get a closer look at it, and tears in your eyes when you realized that you were nude in those.

It was you, in bed, with Astrid. Your face doesn’t entirely show but you can easily recognize yourself and the bed you’ve woken up in that morning. There were dozens of different pictures, but all showed similar scenes: your bodies against each other as you are obviously sharing an intimate moment. Something that you should only share with one person on that Earth. A person that is definitely not Astrid.

Except that the more you look at those pictures, the more foreign they feel. You are sure you are the one in the pictures, but you are still unable to remember what happened. Slowly, doubt creeps into your heart — Did you drink that much last night?

So much that you betrayed the woman you swore to love until the sun dies?

You feel tears welling up in your eyes. You are suddenly overwhelmed by a bunch of emotions that you can’t describe, but that are definitely not pleasant. It is a mix of confusion, anger, guilt, and disgust. The pictures speak for themselves, and they leave little room for doubt about what you were doing — And you were surely not just sleeping. The woman was on top of you, her mouth closed to your neck, maybe she was leaving soft kisses against your skin, maybe she was whispering sweet things in your ears, you don’t know. But the thing you were focused on was her hand hidden by the sheets, leaving only your imagination to complete the scene. It wasn’t the only picture of that kind: they were all picturing similar scenes. You can easily understand her rage and hatred earlier because you are now sharing those feelings with your girlfriend, just for different reasons.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" a voice said, pulling out of your mind. It was Astrid, who just entered the room. She glanced around before looking back at you, a sad smile spreading on her lips when she notices the tears that are soaking your face. and you saw Astrid entering the room. She looks around, a sorry look on her face. "I am sorry,” she started, and you could feel she was looking for the right thing to say, “I- I sent the pictures to the wrong person. When I realized, I tried to explain to Romanoff but, well… you know how she is,” she explained, shrugging as if she was trying to make you believe she had actually tried to, “she wouldn't listen to me, and they- they did that before I could stop them. It doesn’t please me either," she added, reminding you that you weren’t the only one suffering from the situation. Except she seemed to deal with the situation better than you do. As she talked, she slowly walked closer to you, accompanying each of her sentences with a few steps forward until she was close enough to wrap you in her arms.

You didn’t get the energy to push her away.

"Did we.. ?" you asked, but your voice broke before you could finish your sentence. It felt too difficult to say those words out loud — “Did we hook up? Did I cheat on Natasha?” But the woman doesn’t need the words to be said, she seems to read in your mind the end of your sentence.

"Of course we did, what kind of question is that?" she replied, frowning. She seems to be surprised by your question. For a second, the hand that was slowly caressing the back of your head stopped. The woman pulled back a little, just so she could see your face. "Why? Do you regret it?" she asked, and for an instant she seemed to be genuinely worried about your reaction, "because you didn't seem to last night, when you cried my name,..." she whispered in your ear. You could feel her breath tickling your skin but it wasn’t a pleasant feeling, unlike when Natasha does it.

Everything felt so much. Her voice, her touch, her presence so close to you, was now unbearable. As she remembers the night you’ve spent, a soft smirk spreads on her lips, but you are definitely not sharing her feelings. “Of course we did.” The words loop back into your mind, it seeps in like a poison that quickly takes over your whole being. Soon, you are paralyzed by an awful feeling. It hurts, but at the same time you are not sure you are actually feeling something, your body and mind feeling so foreign to you — If you wanted it, why does it feel so wrong?

At that moment, if you had been able to move, you would have ripped your ears off just so you wouldn’t hear her voice any more, and maybe you would have done the same with your skin. It felt like the only way to get rid of your overwhelming feelings. Suddenly, the reassuring touch of your best friend made you feel gross, and so do her sweet words — But if she said that you did it, and wanted it, then it must be true, right?

You have seen the pictures, they are in your hands, right under your eyes. You can see yourself betraying the woman you love and in those, you really don't give the impression that you didn’t want to. On the contrary.

"No, no, it- it's not that, it’s just…," you eventually managed to say, but you are hesitating and unsure of yourself. There are too many thoughts and words clouding your head, so many ways you could react and yet, none of what you could say or do felt right. "It’s just that I don’t even remember last night,” you admitted, feeling ashamed about it, “I mean, did we- you know,... for real?" you asked softly but you were not even listening to Astrid’s answer, the question was more for yourself in reality. "Sorry, I have to go, see you later", you said, interrupting the woman. Somehow, you regained control over your body, just enough to push the other away and leave the room. You are not sure where you are going, but as far from that room as you can is already a good start.

That's where she found you when she came home that night, sitting on the bathroom's floor, the pictures in your hands.

Your hand is still wrapped tightly around the pictures, but you didn’t notice it. Not before being back home, in the room you are sharing with Natasha — Or were sharing, you thought, unsure about how the situation would unfold. It may be the last time you set a foot in that room that has been your safe place for months. Before you could completely break down, you decided to take a shower, thinking that, maybe, the steaming water would be enough to ease your mind. You took two showers. Then three, then four, and maybe more. You can’t be sure, you’ve stopped counting. All you knew was that it hasn’t been enough to get rid of the uneasy feelings and thoughts. You’ve scrubbed yourself until your skin was so sensitive that even the touch of the towel has been painful — But maybe you deserved it.

The rest of the day is a blur, and you are not sure what time it is. You’ve spent hours on the bathroom’s floor, your left hand clenched around the picture while the right one was holding the towel. Your head was so empty, but so full at the same time. That’s how she found you when she came home that night, and if she had been tempted to wrap you in her arms when she saw your pitiful state, the conversation she just had with the others discouraged her to do so — You didn’t deserve her pity. They are right when they say that you are not the victim: you are the one that cheated on her, and she needs to be firm, stern. You knew how hard it is for the woman to trust someone and yet, you still broke the fate she had put in you after years of making her dream of a better future.

"Oh, so you remember now?" she coldly said to you when she entered the room. You didn’t move, not even your eyes to look at her, but if you did, you would have seen that the woman was leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed. Maybe you would have also seen that her coldness was only a facade, and that she was as close as you were from breaking down.

You stayed silent, unable to say anything. The words were stuck in your clenched throat, and they aren’t feeling right anyway — How could you defend yourself when you didn't even know what happened exactly? Plus, you weren’t even sure there was something to defend, the pictures speaking for themselves. Even when she started packing your belongings, you didn’t move. For you to move, she had to grab your arm and drag you all the way outside the Avengers’s building by herself.

She needed you gone, and everyone agreed that it was only for the best. At least for a few weeks, just the time for things to calm down. That’s what she came to announce. The few words that left your mouth were useless, your pleas falling in deaf ears: the decision had already been made, and the sentence was irrevocable. The woman is done with your bullshit. She is done with you, and so you are.

"The pictures, they- they aren't real," she eventually admitted, her voice being barely louder than a whisper as she unburdens herself of this old secret. “I mean, th- they are, but it’s a staging. Nothing happened between us, she- hm, loves you too much to give you away,” she continued, tears filling her eyes as she talks, her voice wavering a little more with each word. "She isn't even conscious in these," she continued when the spy didn’t react. If the black-haired woman thought it was because the other was listening, it was because she didn’t know how to react.

The weight of what she had done left her shoulder, and it was now lingering in the room, where the air was suddenly thick, and almost unbreathable. Natasha felt a weight in her chest that made each breath harder than the previous one. Overcome by surprise, she had let go of the other, stepping back a few steps. Her thoughts were racing, numerous and contradictory, they weren’t coherent enough to allow how to respond in any way. She needed to do something, but she didn’t know what.

“I- I don’t know why I did that. It wasn’t me, that night, you know that, right? That I would usually never ever do something like that,” she started to defend herself when she saw the look on Natasha’s face, “I was so angry, and disappointed, when she refused. I have given her everything since we met, and yet you are the one she chose. I thought that, maybe, with a bit of time she would eventually realize her mistake, … but I was so wrong,” she sighed, and the redhead could see the remnants of that anger in her attitude. A clenching jaw and fists, accompanied with firm words that left no doubt about the resentment she held towards her, and towards you. “That night, I- I wasn’t myself. We’ve already had a few drinks and, you know, it doesn’t mix well with emotions,” she continued, and the woman could feel her anger rising with every word the other spoke. “All I could think about was getting revenge. I wanted to show her she was wrong, that I had so much more to offer than she thought. I wanted her to change her mind, to see me for more than just a friend,” she admitted, her voice being just a whisper as she says the last sentence. “I never thought it would end this way, I swear, you’ve to believe me, Natasha,” and to forgive me. She didn’t say the last words out loud, but she doesn’t need to, her eyes are speaking for herself.

Only, when her gaze met the redhead’s, she didn’t see in her eyes the compassion she had been expecting, only pure hatred, an emotion that had quickly replaced the initial surprise. Not even a word was addressed to her as the other left the room, leaving her alone to dry her tears.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).

| Taglist — @cd-4848, @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite, @gemz5, @jusnough, @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0, @mrsrushman, @riyaexee, @takeyaki, @taliiiaasteria.

#a spes writing #devious lies #mcu fandom #mcu fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfiction #reader insert #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #angst writing #angst without comfort #anon request

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prettiestlovergirl · 9 months ago

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DISCONNECTED

tw: MDNI; fem!reader; semi-public sex; teasing; almost getting caught; unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it); oral fixation! reader; family friend! luke castellan.

concept: going on vacation to your family's beach house with your favorite family friend. song: disconnected by 5sos.

a/n: oh how i love family friend luke castellan. also, sex in a bikini. that is definitely a plus. for pool house context, i'm imagining one like slightly smaller than the one in the OC. this is supersuper unedited. enjoy, my lovelies! 𓆩♡𓆪

when your mom informed you that the castellan's were joining you guys for your yearly spring break trip to your family's beach house, you'd been fucking ecstatic.

you played it cool in front of your mom, of course. just smiled and said it sounded fun, you couldn't wait to see them again and catch up. you had to play it cool, telling your mom you were looking forward to catching up with mind-blowing sex was not an option.

unfortunately for you both, you hadn't gotten a moment alone. there was always a sibling or parent interfering in every single private moment the two of you had.

until today, that is.

you had resigned yourself to having an orgasm-free vacation, deciding to instead spend as much time as possible in the pool, the cool water acting like a giant cold shower.

you got up early, hoping to relish in some of the silence at the pool without any smaller kids running around. you figured you were the only one awake, so you had no issues wearing one of your smaller bikinis.

you'd been in the middle of placing your sunglasses on your face when you suddenly felt two hands wrap around your waist. you yelped in surprise, hand flying over your heart when you heard a familiar laugh in your ear.

"jesus, luke! you scared the shit out of me!" you huffed, smacking his chest roughly while he continued to laugh at your surprise. god, you didn't realize how much you missed his laughter against your skin.

"'m sorry, 'm sorry." luke grinned, pressing a quick kiss behind your ear before he went on. "let me make it up to you?" he hummed suggestively, hands lightly squeezing your hips.

"knowing our luck, someone's gonna wake up right now and cockblock me." you grumbled, biting your lip as he started pressing soft kisses along your neck that made you shiver despite the april heat.

"then let's go into the pool house. no one'll think to check there first." he hummed, nipping at your skin hard enough to make your breath hitch. you finally relented, just nodding your head. you didn't trust your voice not to come out all breathy.

luke led the two of you to the small pool house, locking the door behind you before pouncing almost immediately. his lips met yours in a hungry kiss, drawing out a desperate whine from you.

it had been far too fucking long since you'd had his lips on yours like this, it had been pure fucking torture having him be so close for this past week and be unable to touch him.

your hands roamed all over his bare chest, desperate to feel every inch of his skin, feeling for any new scars or marks he'd gotten since the last time you'd seen him.

"fuck, i wanna take my time with you, but there's no time." he murmured against your lips, groaning softly against you. you tightened your grip on him, gently grinding your hips against the bulge in his swim trunks.

"s'okay, don't care, just fuck me." you moaned, relishing in the feel of his skin against yours. he grunted as your hips rolled against him, quickly pushing you back towards the white chaise lounge in the center of the room.

he helped you lay back against the pillow, not once pulling his lips off of yours. he'd waited far too long to bruise your lips with his, he didn't plan on breaking until he absolutely needed to.

you laid against the pillow, one leg bent up on the chaise lounge while the other hung off the side so you'd be spread open for him, just like he wanted.

luke moved one of his hands down, slipping it under the fabric of your bikini. he rubbed his finger over your entrance, moaning at just how fucking wet you were for him already. it was certainly good to know you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you.

finally, he broke the kiss and you whined as he pulled away, despite the fact that you were now practically gasping for air. "need you to hold this to the side, baby" he told you, panting lightly before pressing his lips to your throat.

you brought your hand down, pulling the small strap of fabric covering your aching pussy to the side and holding it there. he ran his tongue over his suddenly dry lips, taking another mental picture of how fucking gorgeous you looked all spread open for him.

if he had it his way, he'd just bury his tongue in you right then and there, but there was no time. "never gonna get tired of this sight." he informed you, his free hand bringing his throbbing cock out from his swim trunks.

he lined himself up to your glistening pussy before thrusting inside of you, drawing moans out of you both on impact. your back arched against the chaise, mouth open as you felt the delicious sting of your walls stretching to fit him.

you'd think that after the amount of times you two had fucked, he'd fit without much of a struggle, but alas, here you were. "fuck, baby." luke groaned, hands moving back to grip your hips tightly.

"fuck, luke, give me your fingers, need to muffle." you moaned, eyes focused on him while he started to thrust into you. he did as you asked, releasing the grip on your hip with one hand and letting you grab hold.

he started thrusting fast and hard, your eyes squeezing shut as you moaned out before bringing three of his fingers into your mouth. you sucked and swirled your tongue around the digits, making him groan as his eyes watched.

"god, you look so fucking hot like that." he grunted, his pace picking up more as you looked at him. the feeling of your cunt gripping him like a vice and your tongue coating his fingers in your saliva spurred him on.

"harder" you moaned around his fingers as he fucked you, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. your voice came out muffled and wet, drool and spit slipping down chin as he moved faster into you.

you let out more muffled moans, hips bucking up to meet his every thrust as he fucked into you. your foot stayed up on the tips of your toes, body buzzing with the attention it craved for so long.

luke's eyes were fixed solely on where you two were joined together, watching the way his cock got lost amongst your soaked walls again and again.

your arousal created a thick, creamy white ring around the base of his cock that he fucking relished in. he just couldn't take his eyes off you, the way your pussy clenched every time he moved out and fluttered when he shoved back in.

"fuck, g'na cum!" you moaned, mouth hanging open with his fingers still in your mouth. he started fucking into you even faster, wrapping your bent leg around his waist to go even deeper into you.

"hold on just a little longer, baby, fuck, just a little longer" he grunted, grip on your body tightening so he could fuck into you harder, getting close to cumming himself.

"shit, shit, fuck!" you cried out as your legs quivered around him until you finally came, drenching his cock in your pussy juices and creating a loud, wet slapping noise as he continued to fuck you rough and fast.

"oh, fuck, c'mon, fuck, cum for me, luke, please, want to see you cum" you moaned out, your hips bucking up once again to meet his thrusts and take him in deeper to help him get closer.

"oh, fuck, do that again" luke demanded, eyes closing as you bucked your hips up again to meet his thrusts until he quickly pulled out of you.

he wrapped his hand around his cock, fisting it immediately before cumming on your stomach with a groan. "fuck, babe..." he panted, the two of you slumped in silence for a moment.

he pulled his fingers from your mouth, a string of saliva trailing behind them as he swiped them through his cum on your chest. wordlessly, you pulled his hand back up to your lips, cleaning the cum off his fingers while he watched with rapt attention.

he'd been about to say more when he heard the doorknob start to jiggle. "luke? is that you?" your dad's voice called, snapping you instantly out of your dizzy post-orgasm haze. you quickly grabbed your towel, wiping your chest off.

"yeah! what's up?" luke called, looking at you with wide eyes as he started to quickly put his dick back in his shorts. "have you seen y/n?" your dad questioned, making your eyes widen.

"uh.. yeah! yeah, she went down to the beach like twenty minutes ago. wanted some alone time, i think!" he lied, biting his lip gently. "oh, alright."

he waited until your dad's footsteps trailed off before letting out a sigh of relief. "shit, that could have been bad." he murmured, glancing back over at the door.

you let out a giggle as you slumped back down against the chaise lounge, biting your cheek to try and stop your smile as he glared at you.

"so, now that he's gone... round two?"

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

#☆lola writes !#luke castellan #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fanfic #pjo luke #luke castellan smut #pjo #pjo smut

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myladysapphire · 6 months ago

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His Sapphire Princess (IX)

After the night in the brothel Rhaenyra is married to Laenor Velayron to protect the birth of her child. who in the years to follow is the only one of Rhaenyra's children that is believed to be his, she is loved by all in the red keep, even queen Alicent adores the girl, so when Rhaenyra proposes a marriage between Aemond and Rhaenyra's daughter Visenya, Alicent happily agrees.

The children having been best friends in their youths are more than happy to be wed but when the incident at drift mark occurs things change, will it be for better or worse?

word count: 2,455

CW: angst? some fluff (like they reunite and don't hate each other and decide to start over), tensions, refrences of past SA, not proofread!

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclaimer: i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

a/n i hate this, but it's kind of a filler chapter anyway

Aemond

Aemond had been both eager and nervous for her return.

Though counting down the days, planning on how he would greet you, he also was scared.

He know she felt ignored by him, betrayed by how he had just stopped replying to her letters. Ignored her name days, ignored her completely.

But that was not entirely true. He had wanted so badly to reply, writing letter upon letter, though some were just mindless scribbles. But not once did he find he wrote a letter worthy of her, worthy of the emotions he felt. He needed space and he had shown he needed it in the worse possible way.

He had hated how he knew some version of her, a guarded version. Her letters expressing less and less, over time just mere updates of her life before stopping altogether. And he hated that the version she knew of him was the scared little boy he had tried so hard to get ride of.

The version of Aemond he had gotten ride of, in all ways but with her. He wanted to be the old Aemond with her, but hated that he did. It was why he needed the space, the time to heal, the time to become the man he is today.

But as he stood in the training yard, staring at her as she talked to him, so ddiffernt, so cold.

He knew he made a mistake.

She was so different, she had changed, and not just her personality.

But her looks also. Gods she was the most stunning and beautiful woman he had ever seen, he had always thought it impossible for her to become more beautiful.

But her beauty was clouded by the look in her eyes, the anger, the hurt and the loneliness.

She looked so alone, even as she walked out the courtyard with her brothers, laughing. She same old melodic laugh that could capture a room. The loneliness ceased slightly when he looked into them, as if she was finally being seen.

He understood. There eyes always talked to each other, expressing their true emotions, it why he knew his eyes mirrored hers, but they also showed another emotion, regret.

Regret for reading your letters time and time again, annotating them as if they were quotes from his favourite novel. Regret from the stack of unsent letters he kept in his bedside draw.

Each filled with his thoughts. Most mindless scribbles, unfished letters ending with angry scribbled out words as words escaped him, as fear filled him.

He had tried to write of the events in his life even detailing his fights with Ser Criston, his rides with Vaghar, the books he read. And yet he could never send them, fear of her seeing his liefe and not understanding why he needed the space, or fear that he would see the darkest parts of his mind grew as the years went on. The sweet kind boy she had once new fading, and a cruel, vengeful man taking his place.

He had once longed to be a protector, her sworn sword, doing good in her name. now…now he revelled in fear. He loved how the woman would run at the sight of his sapphire eye, a sight he knew deep down she never would. He revelled in revenge, revenge by going to the brothel, the place of his hurt, and burning it.

It was ruthless, but the second he had done it, he felt free, healed.

And yet fear still gripped at him, fear of wheat you know thought of him.

Fear that she would not accept the new him, but as he had started at you he felt like the old sweet Aemond was still in there somewhere, but only for her, his Sapphire.

Watching her sway away he knew he had limited time, this week was the first week of their official courtship, but the week after they would begin the moon long celebrations for their wedding.

Celebrations were they would spend day after day, hour after hour together being the perfect couple.

And he didn’t want it to be an act.

He had returned to his rooms, opening his bedside draw, but instead of reaching for her letter he reached for his own, and realised what he wanted to do.

He waited, two days. Two days of agony.

He had somehow hoped those two days he would be able to approach her, talk to her. But now, all he could was watch her. Watch her spend day after day in someone else’s company

Whether it was one of the tens of ladies begging for her favour and chance at becoming her lady, or her brother Jace, or even Aegon.

Gods he had forgotten about Aegon’s obsession with her. He knew they wrote, Aegon often bragging about it. With Aegon telling him about her, their little jokes, their shared secrets.

Not that he was jealous, no. He was not jealous of how Aegon seemed to act as if they were betrothed to each other. For two days they seemed to walk everywhere together, sit with each other at dinners. Though her eyes were often searching for Aemond’s, Aegon’s eyes were always firmly planted on her. And whenever she wasn’t with him, he was like a lost pup, waiting for her to appear.

Those two days, though never alone they often found the other staring, their mouths would being to form words that they were never able to form. And so he finally built up the courage and sent her his letters.

Visenya

When she had received Aemond’s letters she did not know what to expect.

They had appeared on her dresser, all 112 of them. Though some were scrapes of paper with random thoughts scribbled across them. One just one word repeated, 110 times.

Her name written, again and again, in the same neat, perfect handwriting Aemond had always had.

She then realised what this was, an apology.

She found the first letter he wrote that was left unsent, and she felt her heart break.

Dearest Visenya,

I am so sorry, I can not say why it has taken so long for me to only now reply.

Prepahs it was the guilt.

I never should of come to Winterfell, You had been kind and sweet, but I fear your kindness is unwarranted. I do not desire pity, I regret coming that night, I regret allowing you to see me so weak and scared. My whole life I have sworn to be your protector, your sword. And that night as I cried in your arms I felt like a small child, I felt smaller than when I did when Lucerys tore out my eye. And I hated it.

I have tried to look past it, look at it in away where I do not come across a whiny little boy and I am nothing but ashamed.

I had hoped to write you, bragging of my successes and yet all I can do I wallow In self pity at how I acted that night.

It matters not that I bested ser Criston for the first time, or how often I ride Vaghar.

For all I can think about it the look of pity you gave me.I do not need nor want your pity, my sapphire.

You gave me a place to stay and a place to cry, but I shall make it clear to you that the Aemond you saw that night is long gone. And shall never return. He can never return, not for you not for anyone.

So sweet, I shall not answer your request to come to Winterfell, I need the space, the time and so do you.

I fear distance is what we need, though we may hate it, I need to become Prince Aemond, and not just scared little Aemond, the boy who lost is eye, the boy who cried in your arms.

Yours, whether I say it or not,

Aemond

Dearest Visneya,

It has been near six moons since I last wrote you, and you are writing less and less.

I have been cruel, I know. I have ignored you in the favour of bettering myself.

I do not deserve you, or your kindness even still.

You seem to be doing well, a fact I envy not too see. But I myself am not.

I miss you more and more each day, I find myself looking for you ate very turn. And yet it has been over a year since you were at the red keep.

So much has changed, Aegon and Heleana are to wed soon, I have started training with a real sword.

I no longer wake in sweats from that night.

So much has changed and yet I have so little words to say, I hate it!

I used to have all the words in the world for you, never once fearing how you viewed me. For I knew how you viewed me then.

And now I fear you will judge me.

Hate me.

Resent me.

I fear I have become a stranger, and yet I have a dozen unsent letters all addressed to you, read and read time and time again your own.

I know you, and I fear you.

Fear your opinion of me, how you view me.

I fear-

Most of his letters just ended, frustration finding him far to quickly, some were just mindless words and phrases.

Visenya,

I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you .

Some were hateful, words said in anger, at how she still cared.

Dear Visenya,

Stop writing me.

How long must I ignore you to realise I want not to know you as we once did.

How am I to become the man you desire we spend all our time writing each other, stuck in our silly little heads!

Then gossip filled the red keep, gossip that Cregan had asked for your hand.

Visneya,

please, my sapphire, I beg of you do not marry him!

Your mother bids it but I do not!

Please.

And then her letters had stopped and he left once last letter to her.

Visneya,

Please, don’t stop writing me!

I know I have not been a friend to you but a stranger but without your letters the world has stopped.

I now I am a hypocrite, a hypocrite who cannot find the words. Who never has been able to speak his feelings, but show them.

I know not of a gesture to prove I want you till, I crave you and I need you.

but please, I cannot live without you, knowing you, please.

Please!

forever your Aemond.

Gods, she thought, he had to been hurt. Though not by her, and she had resented him for it. Resented how he had opened up to her, and then abandoned her ignored her for so long.

She knew it was hard for, he was never one for words. Gestures yes, but words? They always frustrated him, he could never formulate his feelings and yet this, the scribbled erratic thoughts and letters, unedited and rushed. They showed so much but also so little.

She has spent the whole day reading those letters, seeing no one bar her maid delivering her meals. And had it not been for her mother coming to grab her for dinner, demanding her presence, she would have sat on her thoughts all day and night.

But as she was sat next to Aemond she realised she would have less time to think on what Aemond’s gesture meant and what it meant for them.

“Aemond” she greeted, flipping her hair to the side as she sat.

“Senya” he greeted in response, eyes firmly on her.

She squirmed in her seat, unsure on where to start. “Senya” he said again, capturing her attention, as they made eye contact some tension left her body.

“why?” she asked, its all she could think of, why?

He coughed awkwardly, clearly not expecting this conversation now, “I was never one for words, Visneya. But gestures, have always been something I excel at.” He moved his head closer to her, their conversation too private for prying eyes. “ I never should have ignored you, I know realise, it hurt us both, more than I ever thought” he shifted in his seat “seeing the look in your eyes when you arrived and realising I had made a mistake”

She nodded, urging him on, as she began to plate up her food.

“I focused solely on myself, I was selfish, but I won’t lie to you, my sapphire”

My sapphire, she liked that.

“I have become selfish and cruel, I have become a man who craves fear, but not from you, never from you”

“then what do you want from me?” she asked softly, before nervously looking to make sure no one else was listening to their conversation. “you did not want companionship from me, you ignored me for years on end, and yet by the end of the moon we will be wed!” she took a breath “if you have truly become selfish, and cruel, how do I know that it is for your betterment? And how will I know that you wont ever make me fear you?”

“because I became that person, so that I never have to feel fear again, feel the fear I felt at Driftmark, at that… at that brothel” she sighed, taking her hand in his “ I want to be your protector, it is all I have ever wanted, and how could I become that if I remained that scared, naïve little boy?”

Everything he was saying was true, but it also made her realize she did not know him anymore.

She breathed in “perhaps we should start over? Get to know one another again?”

He nodded, “I would like that”

next part

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