#i feel like she is only going to do enough to appease the people who are looking for a Little change to be appeased wrt gaza

[annwrites]

⸻ corsets & clockwork one-shot collection. ⸻

· pairing: assassin!jacaerys x fem!reader · type: one-shot (collection) · summary: having had enough of feeling like a burden, you threaten to leave, but jace refuses to let that happen. · word count: 962

“I want to come.”

Jace swears under his breath and shakes his head while fastening a blade to his side. He then glances up and stares at you from beneath dark, silken curls. “No.”

You take a step forward and cross your arms. “I’m tired of sitting around here and doing nothing. It’s all I’ve done since coming here! While the rest of you go out there and risk your lives and freedom just to bring back enough coin to keep us going, I leech off of it while doing…what? Cooking? Cleaning? I keep house while—”

“You stay here,” he interjects, acidically. “Because that is where you belong. You don’t possess the skills necessary to do what we do. You would only serve to get us jammed up. And I am not about to risk the safety of every person here just to appease your boredom.”

He comes closer to you and your eyes flit to Baela and Rhaena, who stand near the door, then back to him.

“There’s plenty to do around here to keep you occupied in our absence. So, yes, you can cook or clean, or watch the clock until we get back. It’s up to you. But what isn’t, is you accompanying us. I make those decisions—particularly for heists like these—and my decision is final in you remaining here in the apartment.”

Tears sting your eyes from anger and your chin wobbles from humiliation.

“You don’t get to stand there and lecture me like a child just because I’m finally saying the silent part out loud. I’m not capable of helping because you refuse to teach me! I know people here resent me for it: doing nothing. Daily. I’m just another mouth to feed, another head to keep a roof over, another back to clothe while I do absolutely naught to earn it all. While I live off of their shares.”

A muscle in his jaw feathers.

“You’re not living off of their shares,” he spits before turning back to the door.

“Whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean,” you reply.

He grabs his coat from a hook near the door and shrugs it on. Just as he settles his palm upon the brass handle, you speak again.

“Maybe I won’t be here when you get back, then.”

Luke stares at his older brother, watching as he grips the handle more tightly, and his shoulders tense. And then his jaw flexes. Hard. Always a simple tell for his building anger.

“Excuse me?” Jace sneers before slowly turning back to you with a raised brow which twitches from irritation.

“You heard me,” you reply, entirely serious.

Baela opens the door then.

“We’ll just wait outside,” she says quietly, and the rest of the group follows along behind her, eager to get away from a detonation just waiting to happen.

Aging wooden floorboards creak beneath Jace’s leather boots as he stalks slowly toward you.

“Would you like to repeat that?” He hisses.

“You heard me the first time.”

He doesn’t stop until your chests are a breadth’s-width apart.

You lean your head back to meet his gaze, but school your features, despite your heart pounding away between your breasts from nerves.

“You should want that, shouldn’t you?” You throw at him.

His brows furrow and his brown eyes flit between your own. “What the Seven Hells are you trying to get at?”

You snort quietly. “You’ve done nothing but treat me poorly for months on-end. You act as if you can hardly stand my presence. By extension, you should be eager to be rid of it—of me. I’m finally giving you what you desire most. I’ll be out of the city come the morn, before the first bell tolls, and you’ll never have to worry about setting eyes upon me again.”

You study his features—flared nostrils, furrowed brows, and his jaw which clenches and moves from one side to the other, even his fisted hands at his sides—but aren’t intimated by a single feature or facet of his vexation. You’ve become well-acquainted with it.

He’ll finally have a chance to relax when you’re gone, if nothing else.

“As I said, I can’t take it anymore: living as a constant burden, weighing everyone else here down. Their earnings will no longer go toward my upkeep. I won’t allow it. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me from taking my leave.”

You take a step away, and begin to turn in the other direction, until his hand quickly wraps around your wrist.

You try to yank away, to no avail.

And then, most unexpectedly, he cups your cheek roughly in his other hand.

“Let go of m—”

“No one’s funds go to you except mine.”

You still. “W-what?”

He parrots your own words back to you. “You heard me.”

He releases you. “Now, you’re going to ensure me that you’ll remain here, and will be here when we get back. I don’t need my mind focused on anything else except the job. If it is, then I risk everyone’s safety. Something will go wrong, and one of us won’t make it back, if not worse.”

You reach up and ghost your fingertips along your cheek, suddenly feeling distant from yourself.

He’s never touched you like that before…

In truth, he seems to despise any form of tenderness or physicality, so it takes you by surprise that he placed a hand upon you.

“I…” You sigh.

“Fine,” you say, if not a bit reluctantly. Once again, he’s gotten his way.

“Promise me,” he demands while crossing his arms.

You look at him—into his eyes—wishing you could break through his enigma of an exterior.

Maybe he’s simply one puzzle that you’ll never have a chance to solve.

“I promise.”

· tagging list: @emilynissangtr @tvangelism @aemondwhoresworld @cecestea

[takami-takami]

The fact that Benjamin Netanyahu is counting on a Trump presidency and that Israel in general favors Trump should speak volumes.

And at the same time, Harris has not deviated from Biden's policies and has given little indication she would do anything different from his policy with respect to Gaza— especially because she keeps invoking his name, saying "me and Biden are working around the clock for a ceasefire," like. You know damn well what that man did to Palestinians.

The fact that she has been forced to speak on it and pick Walz over Shapiro because of the protests is important, because it shows she can be moved. Now is the time to demand an American arms embargo to Israel and an end to weapons deals with the Israeli state.

This is crucial. If she does not deliver on this, she is showing complete alignment with Joe Biden's policies.

We have to show that we demand an END to the genocide, not a slight deviation from it. We demand to see Palestinians begin to rebuild on the soil and slowly heal from the trauma inflicted upon them. If we do not see a complete END to the cycle, we will not be satisfied.

If she can be pushed, keep pushing!

[inkskinned]

you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.

you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.

he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.

a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.

he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.

you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.

people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.

wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.

also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.

he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."

you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.

"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."

he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.

you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.

is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?

you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.

[youunravelme]

this is how you fall in love

author's note: let it be known, i've never been to jfk airport, and it probably shows. sue me. also sorry this took SO FUCKING LONG to write. it lowkey put me in a writing slump because it's just a monster but i hope you can forgive me. this fic is literally 18,952 words long, so i apologize in advance.

pairing: mat barzal x reader

summary: when confronted with the idea of going home without a date, you lie and say you have a boyfriend. which would be fine, except you haven't dated anyone seriously in a year. so instead of facing the ridicule of your family, you ask mat.

warnings: cursing (this is a given at this point), mean girl behavior?

you weren't quite sure why you said it.

actually.

scratch that.

you were 1000 percent sure why you said it.

you could not, would not be the family embarrassment yet again.

if you got one more wedding invitation in the mail, you were going to scream. you were happy for all your college friends, really, you were, but it was the presence of this one particular wedding invitation from your cousin angela that had you seething.

mainly because it was accompanied by a phone call from your mother.

"i told angela that she didn't need to put a plus one down for you, but she insisted. so don't feel bad if you don't have someone, sweetheart. plenty of people are still single at your age."

maybe it was the irritation at your mother's condescension, or the exhaustion from being the butt of every family joke for the past five years, that had you saying something you wish you could take back.

"i do have someone, mom!"

her scoff resonated through the speaker. "honey, you don't have to lie--"

"i'm not lying! it's mat!"

the pause that followed your white lie was louder than the new york city streets just outside your apartment.

"your friend, mat? you told me you'd never see him that way!" she accused.

you shrugged, despite her not seeing you. and thank goodness for that, she'd immediately know you were lying if she could see your face. "something just clicked."

"how long has this been going on?"

"a few months."

"and you never told us?"

"we wanted to keep it lowkey until we knew this was something real."

your mom hummed but seemed appeased. "well, i can't wait to meet him. you are coming down a week early, right?"

in hindsight, you should've told mat immediately instead of postponing it until two weeks before you had to leave. but he was out of town for games, then you had a work trip, and then time slipped away from you.

but there was nothing you and a tub of bubblegum ice cream couldn't accomplish together.

at least in matters of mathew barzal.

he answered the door a few seconds after you knocked. a smile overtook his face until his eyes dropped down to the ice cream in your hands.

"what do you need?" he asked with a quirked brow.

"who says i need something?" you blinked in what you hoped was an innocent manner.

mat sighed and opened the door wide enough for you to come in. "because you have ice cream, and you showed up at my door unannounced." but he took the ice cream from your hands anyway. "how'd you even know i was home?"

you shrugged and plopped onto his couch. "i checked your location."

mat blinked. "you have my location? since when?"

you rolled your eyes. "you make me sound like a stalker, you made me share my location with you when i was out drinking with my coworkers and i demanded to have yours as well."

you didn't get to see mat's face because he was walking into his kitchen to put the ice cream away.

"so why are you here?" he asked once he returned.

"can't i just come over and visit my best friend?"

mat blinked. "no. you want something. what is it?"

you threw yourself back into the couch cushions and groaned, tossing an arm over your eyes. "you're not allowed to judge me."

"well that doesn't sound fun."

"mat, i'm serious, okay? i got myself into some shit and you're the only one i trust to help me out."

you felt the couch cushions sink next to you. a hand removed your arm from your face. "are you safe?" he asked. "are you in trouble? do we need to get the police involved?"

you looked at the concern on his face and sat up immediately. "no! no no no no no! it's not like that, i just happened to lie to my mom and need your help."

"why would you need my help to lie to your mom? you're not making any sense."

you took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes shut. "i told my mom we were dating so i had someone to bring to my cousin's wedding."

a pause, followed by mat's obnoxious laughter.

"you told your mom we're dating?" he choked out between cackles. "how did you manage not to vomit after saying that?"

you rolled your eyes at his barbs. "you were the first person to come to mind! what else should i have done?"

"jeez i don't know, told the truth?"

you flopped back onto the couch again. "no, mat, you don't understand. you didn't hear how she was talking to me! 'plenty of people are still single at your age!' i mean the gall of that woman!"

mat laughed again. "'gall?'"

"yes, mat, some of us use words bigger than a fifth grader's vocabulary."

"careful, that's no way to talk to your boyfriend, now is it?"

you scoffed. "boyfriend? are you--" then it hit you. "you'll do it? you'll be the fake love of my life?" you jumped off the couch.

mat smiled and leaned back into the cushions. "ask nicely."

you rolled your eyes but a smile was already pulling at your lips. "mathew michael paul barzal, will you please be my boyfriend?"

he crossed his hands behind his head and smirked. "calm down, you don't have to beg."

"i would throw something at you, but you're already doing me such a huge favor."

"you owe me one," he smirked.

oh, you'd owe him big.

one week till going home

"okay, so how did we meet?" you and mat were seated at a booth in a coffee shop the both of you liked to frequent.

"no need to reinvent the wheel," he said. "let's just tell them the truth."

"that we met at a bar through mutual friends? that's so unromantic!"

mat rolled his eyes. "we're not a fucking rom com, sweetheart. we're lying to your family and being as honest as possible makes the lying look more convincing."

you sighed and sat back in your seat. honestly, you had no reason to be frustrated. mat was doing you a favor, not the other way around. and with it being the offseason, it wasn't lost on you how much mat was giving up to play house with you. he could be visiting his own family instead of lying to yours.

yet here he was, sitting across from you with his disgusting black coffee.

you must've been staring at his cup because he snapped his fingers in your face. "what? what're you staring at?"

your face twisted in disgust. "can't believe you like that shit. no cream or sugar?"

mat eyed the frappuccino nestled in your hands. "i'm sorry, i didn't realize milkshakes qualify as coffee nowadays."

"you're just mad that my drink tastes good."

mat rolled his eyes. "keep telling yourself that."

you looked down at your phone at your notes app agenda. you deleted the intricate backstory bullet point and moved onto bullet point number two.

"okay, how long have we been dating?"

mat blinked. "you're the liar, you tell me."

god, why were you friends with him in the first place?

"i told my mom we've been together for a few months but i'm not sure what constitutes a few."

mat shrugged. "let's say we got together around the time of my injury when you nursed me back to health and realized how handsome i was."

you rolled your eyes, but wrote it down in your notes app anyway. "okay so where was our first date?"

"am i the one who has to answer all of these questions? who says we even need all of this? it's not like they're gonna lock us in a room and interrogate us separately."

"my brother would say otherwise." mat gestured for you to go on. "when we met his girlfriend, my family immediately separated them so they could bombard them with questions. but since everyone will be focused on my cousin's wedding, we should be good."

"who should i be worried about?"

you thought for a moment, in your opinion, your entire family was a concern in terms of introducing them to mat.

there was your brother, who could be an ass in a heartbeat; though, when you thought about it, he'd probably just leave the two of you alone.

your dad and mom would probably ask a few questions. your grandmother would probably be too busy trying to stuff her cooking down his throat to really pose a problem.

if you were being honest, you were concerned about your cousin, angela.

she wasn't what you would call a "girl's girl." throughout your childhood, it was like she was competing against you in a competition you didn't want to be in. who had the bigger birthday, the most friends, the most boyfriends, the bigger house, the better car, the better college.

it used to bother you more when you were younger. the way she'd flirt with your boyfriends or bribe your friends to hang out with her. it was made worse by the enabling of your parents and aunt.

"just keep an eye out for angela," was all you said.

mat's brow furrowed. "your cousin? why?"

you'd never fully told him about your less than perfect relationship with her, but considering the two of you were in a public setting and he wasn't your therapist? you kept that information to yourself and just shrugged.

"we don't have the best relationship."

mat seemed to understand you didn't want to speak on it anymore so he nodded and gestured to your phone. "is your phone ready to be seen by your family?"

"i'm sorry, what? why would my family go through my phone?"

"they'll at least want to see that i'm your lock screen, you're mine, after all."

"i am not." but mat held up his phone and sure enough it was a picture of you and him after one of his games, wearing his jersey with your arms wrapped around his waist. "you're shitting me, why?"

mat shrugged and locked his phone, placing it down on the table. "i looked good in the photo."

you wanted to call bullshit, but he was already doing you a favor, so you let it go.

"fine," you said. "i'll change my lock screen." you scrolled through your photos until you found one you liked.

"can i see it?" he asked.

you immediately held your phone to your chest. "no!"

"i showed you mine!"

"that sounds like a you problem!"

"but it's not fair!" he whined.

"life's not fair, barzy."

he rolled his eyes but dropped the subject, knowing full well he could make you show him just by bringing up the favor he was doing for you. but for some reason, he decided to let it go.

"anything else?" mat asked before checking his watch.

you looked down at your notes app and couldn't find a reason to get him to stay. "no, i think that's it. why, do you have somewhere to be?"

he shrugged. "just meeting up with a couple of my teammates."

"during the offseason? don't you get enough of each other during the regular season?"

"sure, but we miss each other sometimes. i mean we go from seeing all the time to nothing. plus you got me staying in the city a little longer than normal."

you rolled your eyes. "you didn't have to say yes."

but he smiled anyway. "i know." he stood up from the table and knocked on it once. "text me the dates of travel this week so i can put them on my calendar. i'll get the plane tickets. let me know if you need anything else!"

he pressed a kiss on the top of your head and then he was gone.

an older woman stood up and walked towards you and smiled. "i just wanna say, you and your boyfriend are so cute together!"

maybe the whole fake dating thing would be easier than you thought.

going home

you slept over at mat's the night before leaving for the airport because it would make things easier on marty who agreed to drive you both to the airport. you weren't exactly sure how mat convinced marty to do it, but you made it a habit of not asking questions you didn't want the answer to.

"thanks again for the ride, marty," you said from the backseat.

originally, you and mat were fighting over who got to sit in the front, but not in the way others might expect. he said it was polite to let ladies sit in the front (which, when has he ever called you a lady?). you said he had the longer legs and needed the space.

marty groaned at the both of you to stop wasting his gas and to get in the damn car, i swear to god, barzy.

you got the backseat simply because you got in and shut the door before mat could pull you out.

"where are you and barzy headed?" marty asked.

"back to my hometown. my cousin is getting married," you supplied before he had time to ask follow up questions.

"and you chose barzy to be your date?"

you awkwardly chuckled. "tito was already in canada and i didn't have it in me to ask him to come back to the states."

"oh fuck off," mat said from the front seat.

the drive continued with you sporadically staring out the window or tuning into the conversation mat and marty were having about offseason workouts and the nba finals. when marty pulled up to the airport, mat was the first one out, opening your door a beat later.

he grabbed both of your bags in his hands, saying a quick thanks to his teammate for the both of you before shutting the trunk.

"i can carry my bags, mat."

he laughed, but otherwise continued on like he hadn't heard you. if you were a better woman, or maybe someone who hadn't been friendzoned for the last few years, you would've acknowledged the veins in his arms popping out under the strain of your luggage.

but you'd been down that road before back before you were friends and just admiring a handsome stranger from across the bar.

look at how that turned out for you.

you were expecting to split up at TSA since you knew mat had pre check and you most certainly did not. you were expecting him to hand your bags over (a backpack and a carry on) and head in the pre check lane.

so imagine your surprise when he not only refused to hand your bags over, he continued walking to the normal security check.

"mat," you hissed, but he kept walking. "mat." you stood on your toes and grabbed his shoulder to keep him from walking, but he brushed you off. so you stopped moving altogether until he noticed you weren't following him anymore.

"will you come on? you're gonna make us late!" he turned around, looking exasperated for some reason, like he wasn't the one being weird.

"mat, you need to go that way." you pointed to the pre check area.

he blinked at you, rolled his eyes, and turned around and kept walking.

"mathew michael paul barzal, where are you going?" you called after him, practically running to catch up to his long strides.

"i thought it was obvious, i'm headed to security," he deadpanned.

"but your security is that way mr. pre check."

"i'm not doing pre check. i'm going through regular security like you."

"why?"

mat glanced down at you and by that look alone, you would've thought you were the dumbest person alive in his mind. "please don't play dumb, it's not cute."

"i'm not playing dumb! and i don't care about being cute!"

"i'm not going to abandon you at tsa. i'd feel much better if we stick together, happy?" he stopped walking altogether and fixed you with a look. one that kept you rooted to your spot. "you happy, now?" you nodded. "good, let's go."

you followed after him and got in line.

tsa took a total of 20 minutes to get through. mat insisted you go first which meant you put your backpack on and grabbed your carry on before he could.

"you're ridiculous," he said as the both of you started the trek towards your gate.

"you sound like my mother," you quipped.

the rest of your walk was spent in peaceful silence. the both of you made it to the gate with about thirty minutes until boarding, which was the latest you'd ever arrived to a gate before.

you and mat argued about when to arrive the night before.

he won.

mainly because he was the one to tell marty when to pick you up from his apartment.

it felt like no time had passed when the gate attendant started speaking over the intercom. instinctively, you zoned out. you weren't an idiot, you knew when to board. this wasn't your first rodeo.

but mat started standing up when the gate attendant started calling for the first group.

you tugged his shirt sleeve. "mat, what the hell?"

it was a good thing your family wasn't there to see all the drama that unfolded between the two of you in the airport. anyone who watched the two of you since you'd arrived wouldn't believe you were in love.

not when you were actively getting on each other's nerves.

"will you stop?" he swatted your hand away only to grab it a second later to tug you into a standing position.

"what are you doing? we don't get on the plane yet--"

but he cut you off when he shoved a plane ticket in your hand with the words first class written on it.

"mat..." you trailed off. "what is this?"

he glanced down at you and rolled his eyes. "don't act like you've never seen a plane ticket before."

"asshole. why is it first class?"

he shrugged but wouldn't meet you eye. "i get more leg room."

"but why wouldn't you just put me in economy? mat i can't afford to pay you back for this!" you were panicking and beginning to think about how much you'd have to save before you could venmo him the full amount. you were about to pull your phone out to see how much it would cost before he grabbed your hand again, this time squeezing it in his own.

"don't worry about it," he said calmly. "i wasn't gonna let you sit alone, and i have the money for it, so i did it."

"but i can't afford--"

"i was never gonna let you pay me back anyways, so don't even think about how much it cost." while still holding onto your hand, he guided the both of you over to the gate entrance where your tickets were scanned so you could board.

you were sitting in first class moments later.

mat let you take the window seat while he got the aisle, saying it gave him more space, but you liked to think it was because he knew you liked watching the changing landscapes.

when the plane took off, mat leaned his head back in the seat and plugged his airpods in, closing his eyes as he did so. you mentally slapped yourself for forgetting yours, stupidly thinking that maybe mat would want to talk when he'd been uncharacteristically quiet the entire trip thus far.

you sat back in your seat and looked out the window as the clouds passed by. worries of how your family would react to mat, or worse, how mat would react to your family, filling your mind.

god you didn't think you could stomach losing him. in fact, maybe your entire idea was too risky. you'd take being the butt of the family jokes for years to come if it meant you got to keep mat. if you lost him--

your hand was squeezed twice.

you looked away from the window to mat who was holding your hand again and had an airpod out.

"you're thinking too loud," he said. "you okay?"

you nodded but it was clear he didn't believe you. nonetheless, he didn't push. instead, he held an airpod out to you. the tones of some pop song filled your ear.

mat didn't let go of your hand for the entire rest of the plane ride.

as soon as the plane hit the tarmac, mat was taking his airpod back and stuffing both into the case and back into his backpack. you texted your mom to let her know you'd just landed and would be getting an uber to her house.

while you were texting your mother, mat was grabbing your bags and holding up the line so you could slide out.

he didn't even acknowledge the glares and eye rolls being shot at both of you.

you and mat started your walk off the plane and towards the exit of the airport.

"so remind me who i need to be concerned about meeting? is it your dad?"

you laughed. your father was a lot of things, intimidating was not even remotely close to one. "not even close. it's angela that's the problem the problem."

"angela's the one getting married, right?" you nodded. "why are you concerned about her? she'll be too focused on getting married."

you laughed. actually, cackled. "she's had this planned out since we were seven. i'd bet my first born child that she has all of this finalized months ago."

"anything else i should know?" he asked.

you thought to yourself. what could you say about angela that wouldn't be mean but still be true?

"just....stay close. we need to go everywhere together, understood?"

he furrowed his brows. "even to the bathroom?"

you thought back to that one time in 11th grade when you didn't follow your boyfriend to the bathroom. "especially then," you said.

"got it. stick to you like glue."

you were staring at your phone and opening up your uber app when mat nudged you, but you ignored him.

but he nudged you before just grabbing your phone out of your hand.

"what?!" you asked.

he pointed. "is that your mom?"

a cold chill went down your back as you made eye contact with the woman who was your carbon copy holding a sign with yours and mat's (albeit spelled wrong) names on it. she was smiling and waving erratically with the hand that wasn't holding onto the poster.

"oh my god."

before you could even stop him, mat was walking towards your mom with an award winning smile. to your absolute horror, he placed your bags on the ground and allowed her to wrap him in a hug.

you zombie walked over to them, like you were trapped in some fever dream.

"honey!" she squealed when she pulled away from mat. "you didn't tell me how handsome mat was!" she said not so quietly.

god you wanted to die. curl up and die right there on the airport floor.

mat was snickering into his fist at your reaction.

maybe you should've asked beau instead.

home

your mom parked the car in the driveway; she nearly swooned when mat opened your car door for you and grabbed all of your bags.

"such a gentleman," was all she said before heading up the front porch.

the two of you followed your mother into your house where your dad, your brother, and his girlfriend sat in the living room.

"mat," you started. "this is my dad, my brother cody, and his girlfriend harper. guys, this is mat."

"i would wave, but my hands are full."

"oh honey, stop being rude and show mat to your room."

you blinked. "you mean, our rooms, right?" your mother and father were very traditional in that sense. so you'd banked on having to share a bathroom at most with mat.

not an entire bedroom.

not a tiny bed.

"we're not gonna act like the two of you haven't slept together already. i was born at night, but not last night," your father said from his position in the recliner.

you could hear mat choking on air while your brother cackled.

"besides," your mother cleared her throat. "cody's old room has been converted into an office, so that just leaves the queen bed in your room, sweetheart. that won't be a problem, will it?"

you shook your head, though you very much wanted to curl up in a hole and die. "no ma'am, that'll be fine."

your father crossed his hands over his stomach and leveled mat with a heated stare. "just because i know the two of you have slept together does not mean under any circumstances that it should happen under this roof. do you understand me, son?"

mat nodded, though he looked the most uncomfortable you'd ever seen him. "yes sir."

"oh honey," your mother started. "let them go settle in. dinner will be in an hour."

you led mat up the stairs and to your childhood bedroom. you finally gave up on offering to help carry the bags. mat, for the most part, looked happy to do something with his hands all things considered.

the room hadn't changed much since you moved out and away from home. the walls were still lilac, the carpet was still cream.

but the dolls you had growing up were missing, and for that, you were thankful.

mat dropped the bags on the ground and shut the door behind him. his shoulders relaxed for the first time since getting off the airplane.

"your family's nice," he said.

you immediately flocked to him until there was only about a foot between you. "mat, i'm so sorry. i didn't think they'd make us share a room, they never let cody do that growing up."

he smiled and placed his hands on your shoulders. "it's okay. it's just for a week. we've fallen asleep together on the couch before, it'll be just like that, just in a bed, okay? and i promise i won't stare when you get changed."

you nodded and wrapped your arms around his waist. "this is already so overwhelming."

"hey, we're the dream team, okay? i'm the best liar ever. we've got this in the bag."

and when he sounded so confident, how could you possibly believe otherwise?

the two of you got settled in your room before completely kicking off your shoes, changing into comfier clothes (with you in the closet and mat in the room) and settling into bed just to scroll on your phones. your mom came knocking before too long to tell you dinner was ready.

dinner was a pot of spaghetti, your mom's best dish. everyone was seated by the time you and mat made it into the dining room. mat, ever the performer, pulled your chair out and took the seat to your right, choosing to sit next to your mom rather than your father.

"are you waiting for a grand invitation? dig in," your father grunted. his irritation immediately kicked everyone into gear, with your family passing around garlic bread and filling plates with pasta.

the table was quiet aside from the sounds of forks scraping against the plates.

"so mat," cody started. "what do you do for a living?"

"oh," he said, wiping his mouth. "i play professional hockey."

"an athlete?" your mother questioned. "i thought you learned from the last one."

you about dropped your head into your plate. "mom...."

"sorry, sorry, i know we said we wouldn't talk about him, but he's going to be a part of the family soon."

mat's neck should've snapped from how fast he whipped it to look at you.

you nudged his knee under the table with yours. later, you hoped he'd understand.

harper cleared her throat. "what team do you play for?" she asked. "i grew up a devils fan, so i have to know."

"islanders," mat smirked, like it was something to be proud of, and to him, it was. to your family though? they were more concerned with the upcoming college football season to really care.

"oh god," harper replied. "at least you don't play for the rangers."

mat took a sip of his water. "agreed."

"do you still have all your teeth?" cody asked.

you inhaled and started choking on what you guessed was a spaghetti noodle. mat reached over and immediately started patting your back quite forcefully until your airway was cleared.

"yeah," mat said. "still have all my teeth."

"how did you two meet?" your mom asked. clearly your family was in interrogation mode, but at the very least these were questions you prepared for.

"at a bar through some mutual friends," mat answered, knowing good and well they weren't looking for you to say anything, their eyes were solely focused on your best friend.

"and out of all the girls, you picked this one? did you know she couldn't tie her shoes till she was in third grade?" cody laughed.

mat didn't.

which was odd, because he was usually the first one to poke fun at you.

"you wet the bed until you were nine," you shot back, ready to diffuse the tension.

a loud laugh burst from harper's mouth. not even her hand over her lips could quite muffle the volume of it.

cody rolled his eyes but held his hands up. "laugh all you want, harp. you chose this."

she smiled and leaned into him. "i did."

you stared until mat's hand landed on your thigh, effectively snapping you out of your daze. you looked at him and gave him a small smile before eating more of your mom's cooking.

dinner was over shortly thereafter, with small talk being made between the six of you. when it ended, mat was the first one up, grabbing both of your plates, while you grabbed the cups, and followed you into the kitchen.

"oh no, you're not washing dishes," you said when you saw him put the plates in the sink. but he made no sound of hearing you. "mat!" you hissed before placing your cups in the sink and grabbing him by the arm. "you're not washing dishes! you're a guest!"

"neither of you are," your mother walked in. "you just got here. your father and i will clean up dinner, the two of you can go relax and unwind. i'm sure you've had a long day."

"i can help--" mat started.

but your mom started twirling a hand towel with a smile on her face. "don't make me smack you with this, mat." and the very sight of that coupled with the lighthearted threat had you both sprinting out of the kitchen. you'd grown up in that house long enough to remember the sting of the towel on your legs when you annoyed your mother.

you also remembered trying to get back at her once and failing completely.

your father passed the two of you as he walked into the kitchen while your brother and his girlfriend took their spots on the couch. it only left one seat left in the room, your dad's chair. but combined with the air travel, the early morning, you were left exhausted and nothing sounded better than showering and crawling into bed.

"we're gonna head upstairs, long day and all," you said to cody and harper, the inference was that they would tell your parents.

mat followed you up the stairs and into your childhood bedroom. "you take the first shower," you instructed. "i have to wash my hair and it'll take longer."

he nodded and gathered his clothes while you searched your bag for a set of modest pajamas. he finished his shower in about twenty minutes.

you hopped in the shower and went through your routine, washing your hair and body before stepping out and drying off. when you got back to your room, mat was laying in bed under the covers watching the tv on your dresser.

in true fashion, he was watching espn.

"don't you get enough of this during the season? i didn't even know you liked baseball." you crawled into bed and cuddled into mat's clothed chest like you always did.

mat shrugged, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "i was waiting for you to come back to decide what we should watch."

you hummed and buried your face into his shirt.

cuddling wasn't abnormal for the two of you, most movie nights at mat's place ended with you in similar positions. you were aware his friends made fun of him for it, but mat thrived off physical affection and you were all too willing to give it to him.

"just turn on a movie," you mumbled.

he selected a random mission impossible movie that you couldn't give two shits about. but when the movie and your fresh shower were coupled with mat running a hand up and down your back?

you were out like a light.

exploring the hometown -- the dress shop

it was an alarm that woke you up right as the sun rose. you groaned into your pillow, burying your face into the fabric. a warm arm tightened its grip around your waist. for a moment you freaked out, trying to wriggle away from the person who had you locked in, but the person grumbled and groaned.

"if you keep moving like that, i'm going to need a cold shower. so stop."

oh.

mat.

oh.

you immediately stopped moving and relaxed back into the bed.

"we need to talk," he said.

"can we talk later? it's barely even morning."

but mat had no intention of letting you sleep in. he used his arm to forcibly turn you over to face him. when you looked him in the face, his hair was mussed and in his eyes. before you could even stop yourself, you hand was reaching and moving the hair out of the way.

"what did your mom mean when she said the last athlete you dated was joining the family soon?"

you groaned and shoved your head into his chest, but he lightly pushed your forehead away from him so he could look you in the eyes.

"i'm serious," he said.

you sighed. "i dated this guy in 11th grade, his name was owen and he played football. he was the starting tight end and a grade older than me." you avoided looking at him and instead traced the letters on his islanders t-shirt with your fingers. "things were great, he was nice and all, so i invited him to my birthday party. he went to the bathroom, and i noticed he was gone for awhile so when i went to look for him, he was making out with angela."

mat's grip tightened on your waist. he said your name quietly, but you shook your head.

"it's fine," you said. "i told my parents but angela didn't get in trouble, not really at least. my aunt pressured me to make up with her for the sake of 'family' and 'feminism,' so i accepted her half assed apology and congratulated her when they got engaged a year ago."

"what a bitch," was all mat said.

"mat..."

but he was sitting up and pulling you with him. "no, don't brush this off. what she did was shitty. and your family just expected you to forgive her and watch her get married to him?"

"mat, it happened years ago. forgive and forget."

"i think you mean resent and remember," he grumbled.

"can we just go back to sleep? it's too early for this."

mat huffed but sank back into the mattress.

the two of you fell back asleep until light was hitting you in the eyes. "get up, sleepy heads! you can't sleep the day away!"

you groaned at the sound of your mother's cheering, or maybe it was the bright ceiling light blinding you, either way, the way you woke up the first time was better than this.

"mom, what time is it?"

"a little after 8."

you and mat groaned in unison. "you couldn't let us sleep in?"

"there are things that need to get done, sweetheart. do either of you have something to wear to the wedding?"

"mom, it's too early for this."

she sighed and probably rolled her eyes, something you would notice if you weren't too busy burying your head in the fabric of mat's shirt. in turn, he was burying his face in your hair.

"fine. you two can sleep the day away, but i expect the both of you for dinner tonight and to be dressed appropriately for the family dinner tomorrow." she left shortly thereafter.

"family dinner?" mat asked into your hair. "how is that different from regular dinner?"

"it's with the entire family, not just mine. you'll meet all my cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents there."

"sounds like a lot."

"it is. they did this when my cousin andy got married two years ago."

mat hummed into the top of your head. "sounds exhausting."

"if you don't wanna see me for a month after this week is over, i wouldn't blame you."

he brought you closer to him, which you didn't think was possible considering you two were already pretty close. "i always wanna see you."

you smiled into his shirt, which you were pretty sure he could feel, but neither of you drew attention to it.

"we need to get up," you sighed, pushing away from him just a little.

"i'm already up."

on cue you felt something around your hip that had you squealing and falling out of bed laughing. "you absolute douche!" but it had no real bite since you were holding your stomach and rolling around on the floor laughing.

"what am i supposed to do when i wake up with a pretty girl pressed against me? ignore nature?"

you rolled your eyes and got up, searching through your bag for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. "get dressed, asshole."

by the time you made it downstairs after taking care of your hair and brushing your teeth, your mother had set out a few granola bars for breakfast.

"i would've made eggs and waffles, but i'm already swamped with helping your aunt, i just didn't have the energy this morning."

"thanks, mom," you smiled and kissed her cheek once before grabbing a granola bar.

"do you know what you're wearing to angela's wedding?" she asked.

you nodded while you chewed your bar. "i brought that blue dress i wore to cody's graduation."

your mom's face twisted into disgust. "that old thing? honey, you can do better than that."

you waited until your mother turned around to roll your eyes only to catch mat coming down the stairs in a t-shirt and jeans.

god he looked so good it should be criminal.

but instead of fawning over him, you just threw a granola bar at his chest with he caught with an ease. "what're we doing today?"

"shopping apparently," you grumbled.

"oh don't give him attitude, honey. you should've packed something more appropriate to the wedding instead of that ratty dress you brought."

"it's not ratty!" you weren't sure why you were defending a dress you didn't care about, you'd only grabbed the first dress you saw in your closet. maybe it was the fact that she was so quick to dismiss something you chose to wear.

"that dress is years old, sweetheart. it's time for something new."

"thanks for the constructive criticism, mom. you never fail to give it at the best times," you deadpanned. you glanced back at mat who was stuffing the granola bar in his mouth. "you ready to go?"

he nodded, still chewing as you started walking towards the door.

"dad! i'm taking your car." you grabbed the keys, then mat's hand, and tugged him out the door.

neither of you spoke until you were already five minutes down the road.

"are you okay?" mat asked, eyes warily staring at your from the passenger seat. "you're gripping the wheel pretty tight."

you looked down at your own hands and eased up. "she just--" you groaned. "she always does this, criticizes me or what i wear. i know she means well, but it's irritating."

"for what it's worth, i liked the blue dress."

you gave him a small smile. "the problem isn't you, mat, it's not even the dress. if my mom thinks it's ratty, angela definitely will. and at the end of the day, i think that's what my mom is trying to save me from."

"why doesn't she just tell angela to mind her own business?"

"question of the year," you grumbled before pulling into the parking lot of a local boutique.

the two of you got out and headed inside, though mat looked a little out of place. "what's the dress code for this wedding anyway?"

"i'm sure if you brought a dress shirt and some slacks, you'll be fine."

you looked around, occasionally checking the dresses on the racks, but nothing caught your eye.

"can i help you find anything?" that voice nearly stopped you in your tracks, it was someone you hadn't thought about since you left for college.

you turned around and smiled at the woman in front of you. last time you saw her, you were standing in matching caps and gowns. you sat next to each other at graduation, and before that, you shared a few classes together. if it wasn't for the bright red hair and the comments your mom had made in the past about her staying in town, you never would've recognized her.

you hoped she wouldn't recognize you.

but she said your name in shock and smiled. "it's been so long!" she said. "back in town for angela's wedding?"

and really, you had no reason to dread this conversation, meredith was as nice as she was in high school. but you weren't sure if anyone was ever this happy to run into someone they knew from high school.

speaking of, you couldn't even remember why you weren't closer to her in high school.

"meredith, hi," you replied. "yes, i'm in town for her wedding. are you going?"

meredith nodded and smiled. "i'm actually her maid of honor."

of course she was.

that explained why you weren't close friends in high school.

"that's so exciting!" you smiled through a clenched jaw.

"i was shocked to hear you weren't in the bridal party though. is everything okay?" meredith sounded genuinely concerned, and while she was sweet, you never remembered her being very observant.

you shrugged. "we've grown apart since i moved away, it's water under the bridge."

meredith nodded until her gaze shifted to behind you were you assumed mat had just appeared. "who's this?"

"this is--"

"i'm mat," he held his hand out to shake. "her boyfriend."

meredith shakily grabbed his hand, you could see it tremble in his grip. "meredith," she practically swooned. a moment passed before she let go of his hand.

you had to keep from rolling your eyes. you were no stranger to mat's effect on women but it didn't make it any less obnoxious.

"we're looking for a dress for her to wear to the wedding," mat explained as his arm snaked around your waist. "i think she looks amazing in anything, but if you could find her something summery that matches her complexion, maybe a nice sundress, that would be very helpful."

you looked at mat like he'd grown a second and third head while meredith scrambled off to find something to fit his description. "are you okay?"

"why wouldn't i be?"

"you just listed of a theme of clothing without even batting an eyelash."

mat shrugged. "i was just being efficient. if you don't like what she picks out, we can always find something else or go somewhere else. but i thought the summery vibe would look nice with what i packed."

"and what did you pack? a white shirt and black slacks?"

"guess you'll have to find out in a few days," he quipped before lightly booping your nose.

meredith came back with an arm full of dresses and ushered the both of you back to the dressing rooms. she handed the articles of clothing to you and whisked herself away citing that she'd be around if you needed anything.

which was perfectly fine with you, it meant you didn't have an audience to trying on dresses.

"try the green one on first!" mat called as you shut the door behind you.

"you're not running the show here, barzal. as much as you would like to think otherwise."

you put the green one on first anyway.

you looked in the mirror, not sure if you liked the sleeves or the cut of the dress. was it too short for a wedding? it felt too casual.

"are you gonna show me? i'm assuming it doesn't take ten years for you to put on a dress, sweetheart," mat said.

"i'm not doing a fashion show for you, barzy."

"your boyfriend would like very much to see what you're getting, baby."

you rolled your eyes, mainly because he had a point. but amidst your irritation, hesitancy rose up but you didn't know why. mat had never given you a reason to be insecure, he was more than affirming about your place in his life and your appearance. you had no reason to be insecure, but yet it was rising up anyway.

still, you opened the door.

you poked your head out to see mat sitting on his phone until he heard the creak of the door. "well, let me see you!" he said.

you came out from behind the door as confidently as you could manage.

only for mat to let out a low whistle.

"oh shut up," you whined.

"you look good, baby," he smirked. "almost too good to wear out in public." you flushed under his scrutinizing stare that seemed to linger on some areas more than others and the nickname made heat slowly crawl up your neck.

"you're such a flatterer."

"just calling it like i see it, honey."

"will you quit it with the nicknames?" you covered your face with your hands.

"am i embarrassing you, baby?" he asked, voice much closer now. you didn't know why until you felt two hands on your waist.

"no."

mat pulled your hands down and smirked as he placed his palms back on your waist. "liar."

you rolled your eyes. "do you like the dress or not?"

"it's not about my opinion, do you like it?"

you all but stomped your foot in frustration. "mat," you whined. "what was the point of coming out here if you're just going to defer to my opinion?"

he shrugged like it wasn't bothering him to be that close to you; unlike you, whose heart was racing a mile a minute. "because i like to see dresses on pretty women, specifically you."

you shoved him away with a light push on his chest. the skirt of the dress bunching up a bit as his grip was pulled away.

"lemme see the next one!" he called as you walked back into the dressing room.

you tried on three more dresses, all of them garnering a similar reaction from mat, but none really feeling like the dress you should be wearing. none of them were nice enough to wear to the wedding without your mother, aunt, or angela saying something smart.

your hope was diminishing when you got to the final dress. it was plain in comparison to the others as far as beading and lace went, just a simple navy blue dress with a deep v and a small slit up to mid thigh. but you tried it on anyway.

"i don't know about this one, but i kinda like it. i wanted to know what you think," you said as you came out the dressing room.

mat looked up from his phone.

only for his jaw to drop.

you shifted your weight from foot to foot, back and forth, as you waited for a comment from him. mat, in all your time as friends, was never hesitant to share his opinion, but the longer he stayed silent, the more fearful you got that maybe this dress wasn't the one you should be wearing.

"do you not like it? i can--"

"no, you're getting it." he stood up and called meredith over who seemed to have been hovering just out of sight, like she was waiting for that exact moment. "she's getting this one, can you ring it up?"

meredith smiled but looked back and forth between you two. "of course, she'll have to take it off but--"

"mat, are you sure? i'm not even sure about this."

"baby," there he went, using another pet name. "you look fantastic, and even if you didn't, which you do, i took one look at your face and could tell you loved this dress. you're getting it." he said it so confidently you were inclined to believe him.

you started reaching for the tag on the dress. "how much is it--"

he ripped the tag off and handed it to meredith along with his card. "will you ring this up for us while she gets dressed, meredith?" he asked.

"mat, you don't have to pay--"

���let’s be honest, this is more for me than you." he said it so confidently, how could you possibly say no to him? "go get dressed," he said. "i'll be out here."

you quickly changed into your other clothes and grabbed the dress on your way out. mat quickly took the dress out of your hand and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. you didn't think anything of it until he pulled you in and placed a kiss on the side of your head.

you would've read into it had meredith not been in plain sight.

he must've done it to keep up the act.

meredith took the dress and wrapped it in a box that mat refused to let you carry, just like he refused to let you see the receipt. you told him that you'd just venmo him, but he ignored you all the way to the car.

preparation mode

your mom had ordered pizza for dinner which you and mat had taken up to your room. no one in your family batted an eyelash considering you both cited it as having a long day and wanting to unwind.

"so tell me about your family, the ones i haven't met yet," mat said through a mouth full of pizza.

you were currently wearing one of his t-shirts that you stole from his apartment a month ago and a pair of running shorts while you leaned back against the headboard. "well, there's my uncle mike, he's my mom's brother and the oldest in their family. for the most part he minds his business, he's on his fourth marriage and probably the last one because him and his wife don't even care to mask their indifference towards each other." you took a huge bite of your pizza and swallowed it before continuing. "then there's aunt patty who is angela's mom and she's about as nice as they come but also she's super passive aggressive and let's angela get away with everything."

"sounds like she's not actually nice, and you're just conditioned to think she is."

you rolled your eyes. "we don't have time to psychoanalyze my familial relationships, barzy."

"sure we do, if your aunt lets your bullying cousin get away with everything, then she's not actually nice."

"what does that make her then, smart ass?"

"a pawn." and he said it so lightly that you didn't even think about it for a moment. when you finally registered what he said, you furrowed your brows. so mat continued. "anyone who lets their child 'get away with everything' even when they're wrong is not a parent so much as they are a pawn in their child's game."

you blinked at him once. then a second time, wondering when your best friend had been replaced by your therapist.

"what?" he asked.

"i'm just trying to figure out what happened to my best friend. it's like you were replaced by dr. phil."

mat rolled his eyes. "i'm allowed to be wise on occasion."

"is it an occasion if it's never happened before?"

"what makes you say that?"

"i'm saying someone who gets hit in the face with a hockey stick or a puck every other game doesn't always have the best wisdom."

"but i do now! and that's what matters." he took another bite of pizza and hummed to himself.

"what?" you asked. "what was that hum about?"

"tell me about your other family members."

you explained how your cousin andrew (otherwise known as andy) was the oldest of angela's siblings and was married two years ago to his wife kelsey. they were distant from angela because she announced her engagement at kelsey's baby shower, but in true family fashion, that incident was pushed under the rug.

then there was thomas who was a year older than you and angela who had an affinity of sleeping around and generally not giving a shit about anyone or anything. he would say what he wanted when he wanted and for that reason, he was one of your favorite relatives. because, for the most part, he was the only one other than your grandmother who called angela out on her shit.

"what about your grandparents?"

you shrugged. "my grandfather died a few years ago and my grandmother is still around. she's honestly my favorite family member, though i'm sure that has nothing to do with me and cody being her favorites."

"oh i'm sure," mat said.

"and that's my mom's side of the family." you slapped your thighs and took a sip of your drink.

"what about you?"

you looked at him, confused at what he could possibly be talking about. "what about me?"

"you've told me about your family, tell me about you."

you scoffed. "mat, we're friends, what could you possibly want to know about me?"

he shrugged. "tell me something i wouldn't know. if you don't, i'm going to go downstairs and ask your mom to bring out the baby photos."

you rolled your eyes and sighed heavily, like it was some burden on you. "fine. when i was a kid, angela stuck bubble gum in my hair and i had to get a horrendous haircut. cody made fun of me until it grew out again."

"i bet you were still cute."

you got up from the bed and picked up a picture frame off your dresser. for some reason, your mother insisted on decorating your room with your worst moments, hence why your prom photo was hanging in the stair way. you handed the picture frame to mat who immediately smiled at your seven year old self smiling with two missing teeth and a shitty haircut.

"oh," he said.

"what?" you asked.

mat looked up with a huge smile on his face. "i definitely would've had a crush on you as a kid." you rolled your eyes and shoved him in the shoulder. "hey!" he protested. "i would've! you were cute!"

"shut up, you would not. i bet seven year old mat was the cutest boy in his grade and too worried about hockey to look at seven year old me."

"he might've been, i'd never know. but all i'm saying is if seven year old me knew seven year old you? he'd be in love. well, as much love as a seven year old can feel. in fact, i would've given you my favorite pokemon cards if you'd asked."

you could feel heat creeping up your neck at the idea, and how far it was from the truth. your classmates gave you hell for the way your hair looked, and it was such an odd and unbelievable story that no one took you seriously until the next school year when you grew your hair out.

"well, do you have a photo of you as a kid? it's not fair that you get unlimited access to all my childhood photos and i don't get to see you!"

mat rolled his eyes but pulled out his phone and scrolled through his camera roll. he flipped his phone around so you could see a photo of him in hockey gear with a big smile on his face. "aw mat," you cooed. "you were so cute."

"would you have had a crush on me?"

you thought about it for a moment. "i actually had a crush on this guy in my grade named frankie, so probably not."

mat's jaw dropped. "so my crush would go unrequited?"

"mat, honey, we didn't even live in the same country. this whole situation is hypothetical."

"tell me, did frankie play hockey?"

"what? no."

"was he funnier than me?"

"mat how am i supposed to know if second grade you was funnier than frankie?"

he shrugged. "i don't know. but was he?"

"he was the class clown."

mat groaned and fell back into your pillows. "seven year old mat is crushed. he stands no chance."

"honey, i cannot stress this enough, this is a hypothetical situation."

but all of a sudden, he stood up to his full height and walked towards you with the picture frame still in his hands. he placed the frame back on your dresser and closed the distance between the two of you. "what if it wasn't hypothetical?" he said, his tone shifted from playful to serious.

you locked his phone while you looked at him, to say you were confused would be an understatement. "what're you talking about?"

he shrugged and placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer until you hips touched and it was like electricity struck your nervous system. "what if--"

a knock on the door interrupted anything mat was going to say. the two of you jumped apart. "hope you two aren't naked!" cody's voice sounded through the wooden door. "we're having a movie night and mom made it clear that you two need to be downstairs in five minutes."

"we'll be right out!" you called, though your eyes were still locked on mat's.

he reluctantly let go of you as you cleared your throat. you didn't know what was different about air around you, how it felt tense and warm at the same time.

you headed downstairs with mat trailing behind you and sat on the couch next to each other. you weren't sure what changed, but when mat put his arm around you like he had done in the past, you fought every urge to tense up. what was going on with you?

when the movie was over, and it was time for all of you to go to bed, you and mat dressed in separate rooms. you were in bed by the time he returned and you were too busy controlling your breaths to notice his hesitancy.

he called your name quietly, but you squeezed your eyes shut and evened out your breathing. mat pushed a strand of hair behind your ear as he got in bed before he wrapped an arm around your waist pulled your back to his chest.

your heart beat against your ribs loud enough you were sure he could hear it. you weren't sure why, or what it was, not even your ex boyfriend had your heart beating like that, and it took you months to get over him.

when mat finally fell asleep, you relaxed, and pulled yourself gently and slowly out of his hold.

you placed a pillow between you two.

it was on the floor on mat's side the next morning.

the "big family" dinner

"is this appropriate enough to wear to dinner tonight?" mat came into the room wearing a plain white tee and black jeans with adidas.

it should be a sin to look that good in something so simple.

"if you were anyone else, i'd say no," you replied.

he blinked. "what does that mean?"

"i mean somehow you make really plain outfits look good."

he smirked. "you saying i look good?"

"oh please. like you don't know."

mat put both of his hands in his front pockets and leaned his shoulder against the wall. "maybe, but it sounds better coming from your mouth." you rolled your eyes and shoved him aside as you gathered your clothes in your hands. "what're you wearing?"

"a shirt and shorts." you walked into the bathroom across the hall to change into your outfit before going back in the bedroom to get your shoes.

mat let out a low whistle much like he did at the boutique. "is that my shirt?"

you looked down and saw the islanders logo on the front and shrugged. "must be."

"when did you grab this?"

"must've been during one of our sleepovers." you walked right out of the room and down the stairs to join the rest of your family. the six of you (your father, mother, brother, his girlfriend, mat, and you) would be riding in two separate cars. cody tried to convince your parents that mat should ride with them while you rode with him, but you quickly shot that idea down. you wouldn't say you were embarrassed of your parents, but you surely weren't going to leave mat to his own devices with them.

which is how you ended up sitting in the backseat of your dad's subaru with a foot of space between you and mat.

"mat, honey, tell us about your family! do you have any siblings?" your mother asked from the front seat she tried to give him earlier.

"you have longer legs!" she said.

"and my dad would literally punch me in the chest if i didn't let you sit shotgun," mat replied.

"i have a sister, her name's liana."

"oh, liana!" your mother gushed. "what a beautiful name! i should've named you that, honey!"

"mom," you whined. "you don't think it would be weird to have the same name as mat's sister?"

she hummed. "i guess, when you put it that way..." your mother shook her head. "how'd you get into hockey, mat?"

"mom, mat's gonna be interrogated all night long, can we save the questions for later?"

"baby, it's fine," mat assured you. your heart picked up just a little at the pet name but settled down when he turned his attention back to your mom. "i grew up playing it," he said. "my dad used to play as well."

it was like your mom fell in love with your boyfriend even more. "see honey? he continued a tradition that his father set for him!" you kept yourself from snarking back and rolling your eyes and just smiled. "i wanted my daughter to be a nurse like me," she explained to mat. "but she wasn't interested."

"mom, i can barely handle the sight of blood and you thought i would be okay in the icu?"

mat cackled. "you should see her when i have cuts and bruises from games, she pulls out gloves and about douses my wounds in peroxide."

"i'm not gonna get a blood borne disease because of you, barzal," you replied.

he rolled his eyes but smiled at you anyway.

you zoned out for the rest of the car ride as your aunt's house grew closer. mat, ever the observant friend, reached out and grabbed your hand in his, squeezing it three times until you looked at him.

"you okay?" he mouthed. when you finally nodded he sighed and brought your hands to his lips, kissing it once before placing your joined hands between the two of you. your heart soared at the gesture, but you looked back out the window before he could see it.

your father parked the car in front of a giant house you were all too familiar with. memories flashed before your eyes of summers spent swimming in the pool in the backyard and playing with toys in angela's room.

"be on your best behavior," your mom directed towards you with a knowing look in her eyes. you weren't sure why, you hadn't made a scene in years, though you were contemplating it if your mom kept harassing you.

you and mat slid out of the backseat and followed your parents to the front door. your mom didn't even bother knocking; she opened the door and left it open for the rest of you to follow. mat trailed behind you, grabbing your hand at the last minute before walking through the front door.

you were immediately accosted by a plethora of voices and music, unknowingly, you gripped mat's hand a little tighter as your aunt rounded the corner with a glass of champagne and a large smile. you saw as she greeted your parents with hugs, careful not to spill her drink. when her eyes focused on you, or rather the hand you were holding, there was a sense of smug satisfaction that occurred when you saw the poorly disguised shock on her face.

"hey!" she greeted. "i see you brought a friend."

before you could say anything, mat was taking his hand out of yours and shaking your aunt's hand. "i'm mat, the boyfriend."

aunt patty smiled and then looked at you, like she was evaluating something. "nice to meet you, mat," she said before bringing you into a hug and giving the same salutation she gave your parents. "angela will be excited to see you, both of you!" she said.

doubtful, you thought. very doubtful.

aunt patty ushered the both of you further into the house; mat's hand returned to holding yours until it was time to go outside in the backyard and join the rest of the family, then his hand moved to your lower back.

the two of you walked outside and watched as your family mingled in the backyard.

"who do we talk to first?" mat asked.

you shook your head. "no one. we go grab food first. my family is easier to handle with food."

mat nodded and followed your lead to the table with assorted finger foods on it. the two of you grabbed a plate full of food and found a table to sit.

it wasn't long before the table filled up with cody and his girlfriend who'd arrived moments after you did.

"did you give him the family run down?" cody asked before taking a bite out of one of his deviled eggs.

"this isn't amateur hour, cody. i spent the entire evening yesterday prepping him."

and a coffee date and plane ride dedicated to perfecting a fabricated story.

as if reminded that you two had appearances to keep up, mat reached back and draped his arm around the back of your chair and leaned back in his own. he looked so comfortable doing so you would've believed him to be genuine.

it wasn't long before your other family members came over, your grandmother to start. both you and mat stood to greet her. she wasted no time pulling you into a hug and kissing your cheek, holding your face between her hands and smiling.

"my, my, my, you've grown," she said.

"you say that every time you see me, grandma," you replied.

"and i mean it every time." her eyes dart to over your shoulder where you're positive mat is towering over you. "and who is this?" she asked, but it was clear by the smirk on her face that she already knew. the entire family probably knew given how much your mother liked to talk about your love life.

"i'm mat," he said and extended a hand out to shake.

your grandmother immediately let go of you and all but pushed you out of the way to hug mat who didn't even hesitate to embrace her back. when your grandmother pulled away she smiled and glanced back and forth between you and mat.

"so you're the gentleman who stole my baby's heart?"

mat gave your grandmother a megawatt smile. "no ma'am, you have it backwards. i just tricked her into dating me, still not sure how i accomplished it though."

your grandmother looked back at you and all but swooned. "you didn't tell me how handsome he was."

you blinked. you weren't sure what kind of magic ability mat had but the fact that you grandmother looked ready to become a cougar or push you down the aisle said something.

"didn't think he was your type, grandma."

she rolled her eyes but the smile on her lips said enough. "you and that attitude, girl, i've missed it. i hope she doesn't give you this much trouble, mat."

he only reached around your grandmother and tugged you into his chest. "oh this one? she usually gives me a run for my money," he said before placing a kiss on the top of your head.

your grandmother looked at you and smiled.

and just like that, he'd won over your grandmother's approval. it was a record for you, actually. even your best boyfriend had to meet her several times to win her over.

and mat did it in a matter of minutes.

really, it wasn't fair how charming he was.

"well," she said. "i'll let you two finish eating, i'm sure your cousin will make her way over here at some point." and on cue, your grandmother and you met eyes and shared an understanding. while your grandma loved angela, she, unlike your aunt, was not blind to the passive aggressive comments made by your cousin over the years.

mat pulled your chair out and pushed it in as you sat down before taking his place next to you. his hand immediately made its way onto your thigh, his thumb stroking the outside of your leg.

he leaned in and murmured in your ear. "that went well."

you swallowed the weird sensation in your throat that probably had nothing to do with his touch and proximity.

"a little too well if you ask me," you replied. "she likes you a lot more than my other boyfriends."

mat shrugged like that wasn't the highest praise you could give him. "to be fair, your exes have always been shit."

"they have not!"

cody chimed in from across the table. "they have." you glared at him but he seemed unfazed. "do you want me to tally the boys you've brought home?" but he didn't even give you a chance to answer before he started listing your exes on his fingers. "there was cole who skipped your birthday because it wasn't important. then there was conrad who had the weird relationship with his sister. then there was randall who wouldn't speak to you for days on end and then text you out of the blue."

you rolled your eyes. "those don't count, those were high school boyfriends."

cody deadpanned, though you both knew he skipped one particular boyfriend who happened to be the shittiest. "oh i can skip straight to college and post college if you'd like. you've given me plenty of material to work with." so he continued. "there was yohan who didn't have a bed frame, just a mattress on the floor."

"we were in college!"

mat chimed in. "a mattress on the floor is bad, babe. you can't excuse that."

you huffed and sat back in your chair as cody kept going.

"what about peter who refused to ever get your number and only communicated through snapchat? or lance who had the armpit fetish?"

mat nearly spit out his drink. "a what? what does that even mean?"

you groaned and put your head in your hands until a new voice chimed in.

"it means that she wore a lot of tank tops when they dated, per his request. isn't that right?"

you looked up and saw the rock on her hand before you ever saw her face.

"angela," you said and tried to smile, though the poorly masked snicker made by cody told you it probably looked more like a grimace. "hey, long time no see."

"alright, that's our cue, harper," cody mumbled before him and his girlfriend left the table.

she smiled and fixed her eyes on mat. "and who is this?"

mat, as if sensing the challenge she was presenting, moved his hand from your thigh to around your shoulder. unlike meeting your grandmother, he didn't stand up or offer a hand, he just nodded and smile. "i'm mat."

"and who is 'mat?'" she asked in what she believed was a charming way.

you had to keep yourself from rolling your eyes.

"i'm her boyfriend," mat said before placing a kiss on the side of your head. it was with premature smug satisfaction that you witnessed the smile on angela's lips falter just a little. but then you remembered the times before when you introduced boyfriends to family and how angela looked at them with some sort of predatory gleam in her eyes when met with a challenge.

and mat's indifference to her was the biggest challenge of all.

a tall blond man walked over and wrapped an arm around angela's waist. "baby," he said. "i got you a drink." and he handed her a flute of champagne.

she sipped it but never took her eyes off mat.

"who're you?" owen asked. you had to keep yourself from rolling your eyes. all those years ago, you thought his blunt ways of communicating were charming, now they just grated on your nerves.

"honey, this is mat, the infamous plus one."

"boyfriend," mat corrected. "simple mistake, i get it. it's not like the rsvp's asked for a relationship definition or anything."

"how long have you two been together?" owen asked.

"a few months," you answered in unison, which immediately made angela quirk a brow. you started sweating, your hands started shaking in your lap.

almost as if sensing your nerves, mat reached over with the hand that wasn't around you shoulders, and placed it on your thigh, rubbing smooth circles into your skin.

goosebumps formed on your skin, but for an entirely different reason that a cold breeze considering it was nearly sweltering outside.

"we've been friends for awhile though," mat said. "known each other for about as long as we've been in new york."

angela hummed, but didn't seem convinced. "okay," she smiled. "enjoy the party."

when she walked away with owen in tow, you let out a sigh.

"you okay?" mat mumbled.

"that went better than i thought."

"i thought you said she was mean," mat said.

"she typically is, maybe she's changed though. it's been a minute since i came home."

mat hummed, but maybe your earlier conversations convinced him of angela's normal behavior, because he didn't seem like he believed you.

"don't hum at me," you said. "she could!"

mat shrugged and leaned back in his chair, his hand squeezed your shoulder where it rested. "okay," he said before placing a kiss on your temple. "i trust you."

the night continued on without much incident. cody got a little too drunk, but that was to be expected. your uncle, his wife, and your cousins all came by and said their hellos, but for the most part, you and mat just stayed at the table and talked.

it was moments like that when you forgot how easy it was to just be with him. you couldn't count the amount of times you found yourself sitting on his couch with your head in his lap, his hand in your hair, as you ranted about your shitty day at work or a frustrating phone call with your parents. days like that were typical with mat, because he made it so easy to just be.

you felt most like yourself when you were with him.

and sure it sounded a little codependent, but you were almost positive he was your other half.

but not in a romantic way.

never in a romantic way.

after all, he was way out of your league. the amount times he had women approach him at bars when the two of you went out were astronomical.

you were forever the friend, and you weren't really all that upset about it. so long as you had mat, you'd take him in whatever capacity he'd give you.

the night was quickly coming to an end. harper had cody's arm wrapped around her shoulder, assuring everyone she would be driving them home. mat's hand had found a new home on the small of your back as he guided you out and back towards the front door, following your parents who insisted on hugging every family member goodbye.

you felt your body lean into mat's touch and the side of his body, your own feeling drained and exhausted.

"hey," he leaned down and mumbled in your ear. "i'm gonna go to the bathroom, i'll meet you at the car?"

you looked up at him, faces close together. you were taken back to earlier when you almost kissed and for a moment, you found yourself imagining a world where you could. where you could lean up and figure out what chapstick he used.

"yeah," you stuttered out when it was clear you'd stayed quiet too long.

"great," he smiled before kissing your cheek and disappearing down the hallway.

you were immediately crowded by your mom, aunt, and to your displeasure, angela.

your cousin stumbled up to you with a bright smile on her face as both of your mothers talked to each other. "your friend was cute," she said. "wouldn't mind running away with him." she giggled, but you saw the truth in her eyes, the calculated stumbles and fake drunken smiles.

"oh, angie's had too much to drink," your aunt said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "you know how drunk people can be."

"i've always heard drunk words are sober thoughts," you stated.

your mom scoffed and waved a hand in the air. "oh honey, that's just a saying, angela doesn't mean what she says, not while she's intoxicated. after all, i have done plenty of things while drunk that i didn't mean in the morning."

you squinted at your mother, completely baffled by her excusing of angela. which, after all these years, shouldn't surprise you.

"what'd i miss?" mat popped back next to you like he was summoned.

"oh nothing--" your mother started.

"mat!" angela screamed, throwing her hands up in the air before wrapping them around his shoulders. "if i wasn't getting married tomorrow, i'd run away with you! it's too bad my cousin here didn't introduce us before!"

mat peeled her arms off his body and pushed her away as gently as he could. "before what? before you stole her high school boyfriend?"

what.

the hell.

angela's smile dropped right as your mom's and aunt's eyes widened. "and i'm not a fan of running." he grabbed your hand and pulled you out the front door, and waved down harper who was about to pull out of the driveway.

"we rode with my parents," you said, still in a daze from what he said.

"we're riding with harper and cody back," was all he said.

harper unlocked the doors for you and mat but didn't even bother asking why the two of you decided to switch rides.

the drive back to your childhood home was pretty quiet save for the country music playing softly over the radio. it wasn't your favorite genre, but you weren't going to complain.

by the time you made it home, you were exhausted. mat trailed you up the stairs after locking the front door behind him because harper mentioned something about taking cody back to their apartment instead of staying.

when he finally walked in the room, you were already changing out of your shorts. maybe it was a testament to how tired you were, or how long you had known each other that made you not give a shit about changing in front of him. you did, however, try to stay decent, so you waited until you had your pajama shirt on to remove your bra before sliding into bed.

mat had apparently walked out of the room to change while you had your back to the door because he came walking back in wearing basketball shorts and a tee shirt, like he did the other nights.

"you okay?" he asked, getting in to bed and sliding next to you. he bumped his shoulder with yours.

"why wouldn't i be?" but you wouldn't look him in the eyes.

"c'mon," he said. "you can be honest with me. i'm your best friend."

your eyes watered at his words, the ones he spoke in front of your family, and the ones he spoke just then. "thank you," was all you could get out.

he pulled you into his arms and for a moment, you were taken back to similar circumstances.

like when you watched marley and me. or when your neighbor with the cute dog moved away.

mat had always been there.

"what're you thanking me for?"

"no one's ever stood up to her like that."

mat scoffed. "i wasn't just gonna let her disrespect our relationship like that, real or fake." he kissed the top of your head. "i almost didn't say anything, wanted to keep the peace, but then i saw the look on your face and couldn't keep quiet."

"what look?"

"the kicked puppy look." you looked up at him as his thumb stroked a line on your cheek. something must've passed over your face because his thumb stopped its motion. "what?" you sighed and shook your head. "c'mon," he said. "you can tell me."

you sighed. "i just--i don't want her to take you away."

mat tilted your chin up and ducked his head down so your foreheads touched. "you're not gonna lose me, especially not to your cousin, okay?" you nodded. "i need to hear you say it, baby."

but how could you talk when he called you by pet names? how could you breathe when you could kiss him if you just lifted your chin.

damn.

did he know the effect he had on you?

"baby," he prompted.

"okay," you said. "i trust you."

"and that's all i ask." he kissed your forehead and pulled away, all too soon if anyone asked you. "now, let's watch a movie, i need to destress after tonight."

you settled into the pillows and laid your head on mat's chest as he scrolled through netflix with one hand; the other arm was wrapped around your back.

the wedding

the next two days were spent with you and mat walking around the city, nothing noteworthy happened.

but you woke up on the day of the wedding dreading what was to come.

the ceremony itself wasn't until that night, which gave you the entire day to worry about angela and mat.

his words should've comforted you, but you were too caught up in why you cared. he was your best friend, angela didn't want him that way. and mat was too loyal to let a girl come between your friendship, he never let it happen with his previous girlfriends.

but there would be times when you wouldn't be together that night. could you honestly expect mat to hang around the women's bathroom every time you needed to use it? you were lucky he got along with your brother and your grandmother as well as he did, but your grandmother would definitely leave early and cody would definitely ditch anyone in a heartbeat if it meant he'd get laid.

"you okay?" mat asked, placing his hands on your shoulders as you stared in the bathroom mirror. "you've been in here a minute. at first i thought you were taking a shit, but you left the door open." he rested his head on top of yours and made eye contact with you in the mirror.

"just stressed about tonight," you admitted.

"you got nothing to stress over, you got me, and we're not getting married. we'll just get drunk and party. sounds like a great time to me!"

"god, if i'm like this at someone else's wedding, i can't imagine what i'd be like at my own."

mat shrugged. "i wouldn't let you be stressed. i’d make sure to give you the wedding you want."

you pulled away and turned around, brows pulled together like attracting magnets. "wouldn’t that be weird though? you making sure my wedding was what i wanted?"

"considering it would be my wedding too, no i don't think it would be weird." he shrugged and said it so casually, you almost didn't register what he said. but when it sunk in, your cheeks heated up and you broke eye contact before lightly shoving him away.

"you're such a flirt," you said, hoping it wouldn't give away the way your heart raced in your chest.

"doesn't mean it isn't true!" he called after you. mat flicked on the fan and shut the door. "now watch a movie, i don't want you to hear me shit."

"we're not even in the same room, dipshit!" you laughed before heading back to your room and turning on netflix.

mat joined you after about ten minutes in the bathroom and the two of you watched a movie until your parents shouted from downstairs to start getting ready.

you got ready in the bathroom simply because that was where you makeup was. mat took the bedroom simply because it was easier. you put on your dress, fluffing out the ends to make sure no part of it was wrinkled before you started on your makeup.

you were finished rather quickly, mainly because mat kept calling your name like a child, waiting for you to fix his tie because he didn't know how to.

when you walked out of the bathroom, though, mat met you in the hallway. his eyes were focused on the tie in his hands until he heard the door open. he glanced up and his jaw dropped.

"fuck," he mumbled.

you could feel the heat going up your chest and your neck until it settled in your face. "do i look okay?"

mat swallowed and nodded. your normally chatty best friend was rendered speechless for the first time since you met him. he cleared his throat and gestured to you. "i knew buying that dress was a good move."

you rolled your eyes and smiled as you walked over to him. you took the tie out of his hand and wrapped it around his neck, tying a windsor knot until it was snug against his throat.

"i think you're trying to choke me."

you scoffed. "if you learned how to tie a tie, this wouldn't be a problem."

"if i learned how to tie a tie, i wouldn't have an excuse to be this close to you." his hands snaked around your waist and pulled your hips close to his.

"you should know you don't need an excuse to get close to me." you tried out the flirtation a little, unsure if he was joking or not, but given how his eyes lit up just a bit, you were pretty confident he was serious.

"baby--"

"sweetheart! we need to be leaving soon!" your mother called up the stairs.

you and mat sprung apart like the other had spontaneously caught on fire. neither of you would make eye contact too embarrassed to have been interrupted by your mother. though you couldn't meet each other's eyes, you managed to see mat gesture for you to go down the stairs first.

"you both look so cute!" your mother gushed as both you and mat entered the living room. "go stand in front of the fireplace! i have to get your picture."

you rolled your eyes. "mom, this isn't prom night." but mat was already tugging you over to where your mom was pointing and wrapping and arm around your waist.

your mom snapped a few pictures before hurrying the two of you and your father out the door. the wedding didn't start for another hour, but the venue was thirty minutes away and your mom wanted to make sure your aunt wasn't going to have an aneurysm.

mat held your hand as you walked down the front porch stairs towards the car. his grip was tight and firm. when you finally joined him on the sidewalk, you expected him to drop his hand, but he held onto it even tighter, lightly swinging it between your bodies.

he didn't let go until you got into the back seat of your mom's car.

he lightly chatted with your parents while you stared at the space between the two of you. the entire week had your mind whirling, you two were just friends, but sharing a bed, the physical closeness, the flirting, the near kisses, it was all driving you insane.

sure, you thought mat was good looking, but you'd long given up the hope that he'd ever like you. he was mat and you were you. even if there wasn't a large disparity between your perception of both of your physical attributes, you still would've felt the divide.

he was everything, practically your best friend.

and that alone was too important for you to risk on some juvenile feelings.

mat nudged you with his elbow. "you okay? you've been quiet."

you blinked back into the present, noting that your mother had turned on abba and was singing to dancing queen while your father hummed the tune under his breath. both of them were too distracted to notice or hear mat's question.

you nodded, meeting his eyes briefly before looking away, too scared to get caught in their orbit once more. "yeah," you said. "just thinking."

"uh oh. that's not good," he joked. but you didn't laugh. his face turned serious and he nudged you once more before grabbing your hand in his own. "you can tell me anything, you know that right?"

"of course," you replied.

he squeezed your hand twice and didn't let go until you got out of the car.

as your father pulled into the parking lot, you got a good view of the venue. a large building with tall windows and music blasting throughout the open doors.

once you got inside, your eyes were immediately overwhelmed by the visual stimulation of large flower arrangements everywhere with the most pricey looking lighting fixtures dangling from the ceiling.

it was extravagant, and everything you would've expected angela's wedding to look like.

"oh god," mat mumbled under his breath, loud enough just for you to hear. he leaned down, placing his hand on the small of your back. "remind me not to do this much at my wedding."

you rolled your eyes. "what if it's what your bride wants?"

he paused. "do you want something like this?"

"god no."

"then i don't need to worry."

you lightly shoved his shoulder. "quit joking."

"who said i was joking?" he asked.

you stared at him until your dad cleared his throat and reminded the two of you that you still needed to find your seats at the ceremony.

"honey," your mother grabbed your arm. "do you want to come with me to see angela? i'm just gonna check on her and your aunt to make sure everything is ready and together."

you were shaking your head before she could even finish getting the words out. "nope."

"honey, it's your cousin's wedding."

"and she didn't even make me a bridesmaid. i'm sure she'll be fine waiting until the reception to see me."

"i thought you weren't angry about that! i told you not to take it personal."

it took every ounce of will not to roll your eyes. mainly because mat was standing there, and if you let it slip how frustrated you were, he might step in and make your mom hate him. "i don't care, mom. but if she wanted me to see her before the wedding, she would've made her part of her bridal party. but she didn't so i'll see her when she walks down the aisle." with that off your chest, you grabbed mat's hand and marched towards the group of chairs where the ceremony would take place.

you quickly chose a seat close enough to see the actual ceremony happen without being too close that you could see angela promise her life away to the ex she stole from you.

"that was intense," mat commented. "you sure you're okay?"

you sighed and contemplated putting your face in your hands if it wasn't for the makeup you put on earlier. "i don't know why she wants me and angela to act like we're best friends, it's gone on like this for our entire lives, but it's never worked. angela has never liked me, and i'm tired of pretending like it's my fault. i don't even know what i did to make her constantly try to undermine me."

mat looked around before grabbing your hand and tugging you towards what you guessed were the bathrooms, away from the prying eyes of nosy guests.

"it's not your fault," he said, bending down so you could look each other in the eyes. "there's nothing wrong with you, either, okay? she's blind if she can't see how amazing you are. and your mom is wrong for trying to force a friendship. you understand?"

you nodded.

"i need to hear you say it, baby."

"i understand." a beat later. "thanks, mat."

he kissed your forehead and grabbed your hand. "anytime."

the two of you found your old seats taken by an older couple, so you sat in the same row as cody and harper who had shown up while you were gone.

the wedding started shortly thereafter with your parents joining you in the same row. your mother looked relatively calm for what you knew had to be a shitshow in the back room. angela was very particular, and while there was nothing wrong with that were it anyone else, your cousin's strong opinions often stressed your mother and aunt out.

the music started playing and the bridesmaids started walking down the aisle with the groomsmen and owen. you didn't recognize most of the girls, probably because you hadn't been around angela's friends since high school and you never came to her birthday parties after you graduated (not that she invited you anyway). the one bridesmaid you did recognize was meredith from the dress shop. she looked beautiful in her lilac dress. and her smile did nothing to giveaway what chaos the dressing room was in before she walked out.

with everyone in their places at the front, the music changed tune. every guest, including you, stood to their feet and turned around. everyone watched as the double doors opened and angela came walking down the aisle in a princess gown with her father escorting her.

she smiled brightly, probably basking in the attention she was receiving. she didn't even look at owen until she got close enough to the front that there was no one else for her to smile at.

i'd do it differently, you thought. when i get married, i won't be able to take my eyes off his face.

the officiant told everyone to sit and continued on with the ceremony. you mostly blocked it out, peering at mat who looked more interested in the ceremony than you were. he caught your stare a few times and smirked before grabbing hold of your hand and kissing the back of it.

and your heart soared every time.

mat was an affectionate friend, this much you knew. anytime you picked him up from a roadie, or when he came over after you just got back into town, he'd hold you in a death grip hug for five minutes at the very least. most of the hugs involved the two of you swaying side to side with mat mumbling how much he missed you into your neck.

all that to say, you weren't a stranger to his affection.

you were, however, unused to the kisses and pet names, all of which started as soon as you introduced him to your family.

it was the crowd cheering that startled you out of your stupor. you glanced at the front to see owen dipping angela in a kiss while the photographer captured the moment.

and maybe it was the bitterness in your chest speaking for the teenager who lost her first serious boyfriend, but the kiss itself looked more performative than like true love.

mat extended a hand to you when you realized everyone was standing and heading to the tables to eat.

"you alright?" he asked once your hand was secured in his own. "you keep zoning out."

you shrugged. "just thinking."

"about?"

"how do you know if you love someone?" you asked, replaying angela and owen's kiss in your mind. you were so preoccupied, you didn't notice mat scratching the back of his head and blushing.

"well, you uh," he stuttered. "why're you asking me? haven't you been in love before?"

he wouldn't meet your eyes, his own kept focusing on avoiding bumping into people as you made your way to an open table. mat pulled your chair out and didn't sit down until you did.

"i don't know," you continued on. "i thought i was, but i never saw forever with those guys."

"thank god," he mumbled.

"what?"

he looked up all doe eyed and innocent. "hm?"

"what did you say?"

he shrugged. "i didn't say anything. you must be hearing things."

you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your lips said you weren't really bothered by his lies.

cody and harper joined you at the table; your parents took the last two seats. all six of you sipped at the water on the table and waited for your dinners to be ready.

"so," harper started. "what did everyone think of the ceremony?"

you could've groaned, not because you weren't interested in weddings, you loved them.

just not angela's.

and talking about all the beautiful aspects of it sounded like a violation of your eighth amendment rights.

"oh it was so gorgeous, she looked fantastic," your mother supplied, fawning over your cousin as usual. but it was when she looked around the room before she leaned into the table that your attention was piqued. "patty was scared the wedding would need to be called off. said something about how owen was getting cold feet, she wouldn't say why though."

were you a horrible person for internally rejoicing at angela's possible stressor?

maybe just a little.

but you'd taken the high road your entire life. so in your opinion, it was warranted and earned.

mat nudged your knee with his. "at least look concerned," he mumbled with a smirk playing on his lips.

"i do! i am!" you said just loud enough for him to hear. mat looked at you until you cracked under his gaze. "okay, so i might be just a little smug, sue me."

he rolled his eyes, but the smile playing on his lips said he was far from annoyed.

your family continued to make idle chatter until the dj started announcing the bridal party. it wasn't anything that hadn't been done before; the bridesmaids and groomsmen danced their way into the room. moments later, angela and owen came in with their hands riased and cheering along with everyone else. your entire table joined in with the other guests and clapped and hollered until it was no longer socially acceptable.

dinner came out shortly thereafter.

again, it was nothing that hadn't been done before. a simple pasta dish with a side salad wasn't anything to celebrate. the food was absolutely delicious, you wouldn't lie about that, it was just interesting that angela, who prided herself on being different, had planned a party that didn't even crack your top ten favorite weddings.

but she'd never sought your approval anyway, so why would she start now?

you were shocked out of your intense thoughtfulness by an arm wrapping around your shoulder. mat didn't even look phased as he pulled you just a little closer to him, talking with your dad about the upcoming season like they'd been friends for ages.

the weight of his arm was comforting, reminding you of times he'd slung it across your shoulders after a game and pressed a kiss to your temple or when you sat next to each other at bars.

others had looked at your relationship with a microscope. sydney and grace both had asked multiple times if there was something more with the two of you and looked skeptical whenever you gave them a funny look while saying no.

he was your best friend, always would be so long as you never fucked anything up.

"how's your pasta?" mat asked.

you blinked. "same as yours."

he rolled his eyes yet again and kissed your temple. "smart ass," he mumbled against your skin.

dinner was barely over when music started playing, marking the sign of the first dance. angela and owen danced to "can't help falling in love" while everyone looked on. they didn't talk, they seldom even smiled until, like they were suddenly struck by electricity, they remembered they were being photographed and had all eyes on them.

you bided your time, sipping the water in your glass, because you knew mat was gonna drag your ass onto the dance floor like he had before at other parties and weddings.

sure enough, as soon as the song ended and the party music started, mat's hand was in yours, tugging you towards the center of the floor.

you dragged your feet as a front, just wanting to prolong the feeling of his palm encircling your own. you didn't know the name of the song, just like you didn't understand the light feeling in your stomach when mat pulled you close and placed his hands on your waist.

"in case i forgot to tell you," he shouted into your ear over the pumping music. "you look really pretty tonight."

you could feel the heat crawl up your neck. you ducked your head so you couldn't see him, but he pulled your chin up to look him in the eyes.

"don't get shy on me now," he teased, though his eyes weren't full of mirth like they usually were. they were soft, like sunlight filtered through a bedroom window. "come dance with me."

the two of you danced, hips shaking and moving to the beat of the music. mat always had a grip on you, whether he was twirling you around or had both hands on your hips.

you couldn't remember ever having this much fun at a wedding.

who would've thought it would've been angela's wedding?

but the music slowed down, usually signaling that it was your time to sit back down until hey ya! came on. so you made a move to step off the dance floor and head back to where your brother sat nursing a glass of bourbon, but it was a callused hand that kept you in place.

"where do you think you're going, baby?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. "you owe me a dance."

you hesitated, knowing that in the past, you'd danced the night away, but with him here, in front of your family, with your grandmother giving you a smile, you didn't know you could fake it any longer. you couldn't keep pretending that you weren't completely infatuated, overcome with love for your best friend.

your hand would've started shaking had he not had a steady grip on you.

mat pulled you close. "c'mon, i won't even step on your toes. i promise."

you relented and let him pull you back into the middle of the floor. he placed his hands on your waist and, for a moment, you thought you were dreaming. in another life, you'd be wearing white and be the prettiest person in the room. in another life, you'd have matching gold bands on your fourth fingers.

in another life, he'd be yours.

you wrapped your hands around the back on his neck, playing with the hair there absentmindedly.

"you're far away," he said. "come back to earth for a minute. what're you thinking about?"

you shrugged. "wondering if i'll ever get this," you answered honestly, even going as far as looking him in the eyes as you spoke.

"you'll get it," he said without a doubt in the world to be found. "i'll make sure of it."

"what about you? do you want something like this?"

he glanced around the room, eyes landing on the newly married couple in the center. "not if i'm not marrying you."

you blinked, heart in your throat. he looked so honest, but you'd known him long enough, seen who he's dated too many times, to know he was joking.

he had to be.

right?

so you laughed, closing your eyes and tilting your head back so that you unintentionally missed the small look of confusion married with hurt on mat's face. you did it to protect yourself, to keep yourself from getting hurt, and unintentionally hurting him in the process.

"i can never tell when you're joking, barzy," you smiled, hoping it covered the shake in your voice.

"but i--"

"may i cut in?" you glanced to your left and saw your smiling grandmother.

"oh i--" mat stuttered, flustered in a way you'd never seen before.

"sure!" you interrupted his train of thought. "i have to pee anyway."

besides, mat was probably safest with her anyway. angela wouldn't try anything while your grandmother was standing there.

you stepped away, waist feeling cold from the lack of contact and made your way towards the bathrooms.

it wasn't that hard to find the restroom, it was just a longer hallway. but it was far enough from the reception that the music was only a faint bass noise.

you walked into the bathroom and did your business. fluffing your hair and fixing your dress in the mirror when you'd finished washing your hands. you opened the door and saw shiny black shoes before you saw the man standing across from the woman's bathroom.

"owen?" you asked. "the men's bathroom is a little further down the hall."

"i know," he said, pushing off the wall to move closer to you.

red flag.

"what?" you asked, moving slightly out of the way so he couldn't push you back into the bathroom. "have you been drinking?"

"sober as a judge."

you furrowed your brows. "what?"

he took another step closer to you while you quickly turned so your back was no longer against a wall, but towards the party. if he kept advancing towards you, the weird tension would soon be out in the open and surely he would stop then.

right?

"i'm sorry for what i did back in high school."

"owen, what are you talking about?"

"for cheating on you. you're all i've ever wanted and it's my biggest regret to this day that i ever let you go."

you were gonna be sick.

"owen, you don't know what you're talking about. you love angela. you got married to angela. she is your wife."

"but i want you." he reached out to touch your hair but you backed up quick enough to just miss his hand.

"no you don't," you said. "you decided i wasn't enough nearly ten years ago."

"but you looked so good and so happy with him, with max or whatever his name is--"

"--mat--"you corrected.

"--it made me miss us. don't you miss me?"

"i don't even know who you are anymore, owen! that person you knew in high school isn't me anymore, and you don't get to decide you want me now just because i'm happy and you aren't."

"we were so good together!"

"we were sixteen, owen! we were children."

"but--"

"i gave you just about everything i could possibly give, and you decided it wasn't enough. you decided to get with my cousin while we were dating instead of breaking up with me. you decided to marry her. and now you get to live with that decision." you spun on your heel and were met with mat's stare. even in the dim lighting, you could see his jaw clenched.

"mat," you breathed like it was your last breath.

"you okay?" he asked.

"yeah," you said. "just telling owen where the bathroom was."

you both knew it was a lie, especially if the look on mat's face was any indication, he'd probably heard enough of the conversation. you allowed yourself to be guided back to the recpetion with mat's hand firmly placed on the small of your back.

you two kept dancing until it was time to send angela and owen off. while mat gathered your things, you said goodbye to your extended family members because you two were leaving tomorrow afternoon to head back to new york.

which scared you.

this last week had been amazing. pretending and playing house with mat meant unlocking feelings you'd pretended didn't exist for the entire duration of your friendship. and while you wished you'd never unlocked pandora's box, part of you was happy you could never go back.

a warm and weathered hand tugged on your forearm and snapped you out of your reverie. "don't let that boy go." when you looked down, your grandmother was staring at you with earnest eyes. "he loves you the way you deserve to be loved."

your eyes welled up with tears as you hugged her. "thanks, grandma."

"i mean it. don't come back without him, you hear me? i need great grand babies soon."

you flushed at the idea and whined. "please don't tell me you said that to him!"

but she didn't answer you, she just laughed.

"you ready?" mat asked, walking over with your brother and harper following closely behind. "cody said he'd give us a ride home."

"treat my baby right, mathew," your grandmother said. "or else i'll have to fly to new york and kill you, you hear?"

he smiled. "yes ma'am."

you hugged your grandmother tight. "i love you."

"love you more."

mat ushered you outside, following behind cody and harper to their car. none of you were interested in the send off, even if was only going to take a few seconds.

the four of you got into cody's car and drove off before your parents could admonish you for leaving early. cody and harper talked amongst themselves about bills and what their own wedding would look like whenever cody proposed (and if you knew him like you thought you did, it would be soon) while you and mat just held hands in the backseat.

it was weird, the physical touch even when no one was looking. but you weren't complaining about it, if anything, you were clinging to it, scared that once it finally ended you'd go into withdrawal.

cody parked outside of your parents house and let you and mat in before driving off. you headed upstairs, with mat on your tail, ready to get undressed and to curl up in bed with a stupid movie.

"that was fun," mat said. "did you have fun?"

you sat down on your bed and started taking off your shoes. "i always have fun when i'm with you," you said absentmindedly. a moment of silence passed. you looked up to see mat shifting from side to side. "are you okay?"

"what did owen want?" he asked honestly.

you sighed and stood up, walking towards him. "i'm not even sure. he started professing how much he missed me, but i shut it down because i don't have feelings for him."

a glimmer of hope. "you don't?"

"nope."

he nodded. "good."

you took a deep breath and stepped closer to him. "i could never go through with it anyway, i'm in love with someone else." please please please don't let this past week be a joke to him. please let him be a horrible actor.

he stared at you.

a moment of silence.

his eyes searched your own, like they were looking for something.

you could feel the tears well up in your eyes at the thought of his rejection. you'd take being heartbroken, but you couldn't take losing your best friend.

and then.

his hands were on your cheeks, his lips were on yours, and your heart had jumped into your throat. your arms wrapped around his neck and into his hair.

when you finally broke apart for air, mat was smiling. "i'm guessing you were talking about me?" he asked, though the smug tone in his voice said he didn't actually need to know the answer. not when the kiss had already confirmed his suspicions.

"you're such an ass," you jokingly shoved him away, but he caught your hand and used it to pull you back in, to kiss you once more.

"but this ass loves you." he paused. "that sounded a lot more romantic in my head than it did coming out."

but you smiled anyway. "this ass loves you too, barzy."

and two years later, standing in front of everyone in a white dress, you couldn't help but smile. lying usually got you in trouble, but you couldn't have imagined a better ending.

[bambisnc]

u got me so in love [ft. p.hn]

@ yn : idk sounds like a you problem tbh @ hanni : oh yeah? watch me make it into an us problem rn babe <3

pairing : bsf!hanni x f!reader genre : angst w a dash of crack cw/tw : swearing + uneditted + hints of reader being possessive/jealous + surprise moka appearance! <3 wc : 0.5k

you saw hanni before she saw you. 

however, to be fair, the fact that in every hallway, every room, every crowd in general, your eyes would always, always be constantly in search of her did give you a fair advantage. 

she was pulling someone along by their arm, in that trademark cheerful manner of hers. 

but she was too busy in conversation to notice you staring. 

too busy in conversation to notice how you forcibly immersed yourself into conversation with minji just to appear unbothered.

you almost succeed. 

keyword : almost.

she finally approaches you. the traitor. misusing that beautiful grin of hers to force a matching one on your own face.

“y/n!! you remember we have to be at school this saturday right? for the physics project?” 

you can’t help but be distracted by how she’s still holding some other girl’s hand. you don't think you've seen her before, she's probably new - and your best friend, being the absolute sweet soul that she is probably offered to show her around.

but it's crazy if you think about it – hanni has no shortage of friends and physical touch is how she shows affection. plus it’s not like the two of you are together or anything; she's only your best friend.  

so why does it bother you this much?

you carefully hide the annoyance starting to creep up on your features and shrug noncommittally (a VERY inappropriate response to the question she'd asked). 

hanni looks like she’s finally noticed something. 

“oh! moka, these are my friends!” she gestures towards you, “and side note : this one's for sure the cutest!” “is that how you usually introduce people?” you deadpan; the compliment not doing much to appease the vague ickiness you feel.

“no!!” hanni huffs sheepishly, “minji, y/n, this is the new transfer student sakai moka; she’s in my class!”

before either you or minji is able to reply, the school bell rings and a bustling crowd of students surges through. the 2 of you get separated from hanni and .. moka.

you’re left just a little dazed but aren’t able to dwell much on it when some other classmates/acquaintances/friends engage you in random mindless chatter which you'd be damned if you were even half interested in.

- the next you see the two of them is by the stairwell; both of them standing against the wall, animatedly talking about something or the other. 

could it be that she’s waiting for you?.. 

as soon as the crowd parts enough way to walk through, you, ironically, lose sight of her completely. 

.. so she wasn’t waiting.

the entire occurrence leaves you with a bitter taste in your mouth. 

and the idea of processing whatever you’re feeling seems a little too much for you to be able to handle right now. 

you can't help but suddenly remember when just an year earlier, you and hanni had been sitting together on these same stairs. she'd confessed that she wasn't looking forward to going to the next grade because that would mean both of you would be different classes.

she'd made you promise you wouldn't become best friends with someone new you met. she'd made you promise to only be hers.

too bad you just laughed it off back then.

-

when you check your phone later, a flurry of notifications greet you, all from a certain someone who’s been on your mind quite literally all day.

● hanniiee (cutest bestest most perfect bff) :3 <3

Y/NNN  Y/NNNNIEEE WHERE’VE U BEEN ALL DAYYY IMYYY

oh and omg moka told me the funniest story about her old school you’ll love her smmm fr :((

AWW HOLD ON NO WAY  minji js texted 🤭🤭🤭 is my darling a little jealous perhaps~~ ??  u know ur always my no.1 y/nnie <33

CALL MEEE ALR LOSER

ah shit wait i need to go over to moka’s rn to help w school work

call me when u can tho i’ll be free to pick up anytime !!!

…

but when you call hanni a little later, you’re met with an automated response.

the number you have dialed is currently busy. please try again.

notes : bambisnc comeback no wayyy anyw what if i changed my user back to bambinsc guys ive totally not being having sm thoughts about doinf that + [m.list] song rec : te quiero - kissoflife! <3

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

pt.2 <3

[strangesem]

Dropping in with a request!

Could you do either Miles or Hobie (you can choose) with a Spider person reader who everyone thinks is scary and intimidating but actually just really quiet and shy?

THIS IS SO CUTE (and also very much fits my spider-sona 🤭)

hobie brown x intimidating but shy reader

a/n: I took a brief hiatus bc I’m trying to get my license but I’m back and more feral than ever

FIRST OF ALLL I feel like part of the reason people think you’re intimidating is bc of your spider-suit?

like maybe the mask is “spooky” or it’s super dark or what have you

and if you have good posture that would definitely make you seem sm more intimidating? like you’re just standing there upright saying nothing

even though you’re only quiet bc you’re shy, no one knows that!!!

except for hobie

tbh I feel like he originally approached you to annoy you or knock you down a peg?

but when your response was so quiet and soft he was like ?????

he doesn’t believe in consistency soo you’re basically his new best friend

but genuinely you would both bond so fast, largely due to how well your personalities even each other out

but also because no one else really talked to you bc you seemed “scary”

I also feel like you’d end up forming a trio with pavitr bc he’s too sweet to be intimidating by your “rough exterior”

and pav is the number one supporter of you two getting together I’m serious

“I can feel the tension, you guys should go to dinner after this”

“DID YOU SEE THE WAY HE LOOKED AT YOU? he’s in loooooveee”

speaking or pav; when you first met he *did* get jumpscared a little bit with how quietly you move around, and compared you to a ghost

it really stuck with hobie bc he immediately started calling you “ghostie”

(you’re crushing way too hard at that point to care let’s be real)

once you get together he’ll probably start spending more time in your world; just chilling at your place

teasing you occasionally about how nervous you are to even just open your door and talk to a delivery guy (he WILL do it for you if you ask though he doesn’t care lmao)

he’d also want you to spend a bunch of time in his dimension bc he wants you to go to his shows! go to all his favourite pubs with him!!

but if that’s all to overwhelming for you, even just lounging in his bed is more than enough to appease him

he likes that it smells like you after you leave

also!!! he definitely would want his partner to wear his clothes

if you’re bigger and his “normal” shirts don’t fit you comfortably? he’ll steal some oversized shirts and wear them a bit before handing them off to you!

hobie loves loves LOVES taking part in conversations where people are talking about how intimidating you are bc it’s hilarious to him

peak comedy even

“nah they’re a little cutie pie; couldn’t hurt someone if they tried”

“[spider-sona name]????”

miguel absolutely despises you both though bc hobie’s full time job is already being a menace to him and then you just stand off to the side and stare? WHISPERING TO HOBIE??? he can’t.

peter b parker though? he LOVES you guys. you’re his otp and she will sometimes point to show mayday what “true love” looks like

[coco-loco-nut]

Down Bad

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

summary: a heartbreak like no other

a/n: it’s super short, sorry

masterlist ttpd masterlist

________

You should've known better. Really. You aren't the kind of girl that a hot, 29-year-old, Spanish Formula One driver would like. Of course, you are beautiful, but apparently not enough for him. His attention was fleeting, leaving you just another one of his conquests in a long string of girls like you.

You met Carlos while interning in Madrid during the Winter. At the time you didn't realize he was love-bombing you, only to drop you cold once your internship ended a month later and you went home, practically shipped away by him. For a moment you knew, or thought you knew, extraordinary love, but it wasn't real. Was anything real anymore?

“Sweetheart, you need to stop moping,” your mom says from the doorway of your bedroom. “You know I love you, but if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you are a moody teenager,” you know your mom means well, but the last bit struck hard.

“Fine, I’m going for a run,” you groan, rolling out of bed. She leaves your room, seemingly appeased. It doesn’t take you long to get dressed, lace up your trainers, and play your angsty playlist through your headphones.

You take the path you know by heart, the one you take when you need to be away from people. When you are sufficiently alone, you let it all out.

Crying and running may not be the wisest idea, but it’s cathartic to you. You stop when you get to the meadow and lay down, staring at the cloudy sky. As the music plays, you yell the lines that hit too close to home. I might just die, it would make no difference. Fuck you if I can’t have us.

Fuck. You need to get over him. Everything just feels so hollow now, like you were stripped of everything you are and ever were. You just want to talk to your friends about it, but you know them. They will call you nuts, saying that it never really happened, that Carlos Sainz would never date you.

So instead, you lay in this field, thinking about when you were heaven struck. You might just not get up, stay down while you are down bad for someone who doesn’t even care about your existence anymore.

Maybe you were abducted by an alien to another, then returned back to this spot. That could explain it. Explain why you are feeling the angst of a scorned teenage girl, when you have more emotional maturity than that. You are 22 after all.

It’s how you imagine it feels like to lose the touch of a twin flame. I guess being love bombed then abandoned would do that to you.

The more you think about it, the more the alien analogy seems to fit. It’s like he beamed down from a ship, did a hostile takeover on your heart, the alien encounters closer and closed as each day passed. And you let them happen, willingly.

It started with a hello, then coffee, then a stroll, then a lunch, then a drive, then a dinner, then a night spent together, two, three, four, it spiraled. He did everything he could to worm his way into your heart, only for him to say it’s over.

Maybe you will take the ship, go to some planet and find an alien who can understand all of it. How dare he do everything he could to make you fall in love, only to leave you stranded. How is that romantic? You were in love, and fuck him if you can’t have him because of his actions.

You stare at the sky, music pumping through your headphones, willing the sky to part and reveal the alien spaceship that will beam you up to it in a cloud of dust and take you away.

Minutes pass until you realize your efforts are worthless, you mentally wave goodbye to the ship that carries him (and his pet names and his perfect dates) with it. Shedding a few tears on your run home, you start rebuilding yourself with each step. The hurt and pain slowly being chipped away.

No man with EVER make you feel this down bad again.

[eatommo]

Hotshot [c.f.99]

CW: Poly!batchxreader, group sex, exhibitionism, oral sex (m&f recieving), double penetration, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, vaginal and anal creampie, multiple partners, cumshots, anal sex, ass eating, spanking, praise, authority kink, cucking? kinda?, implied recording of sex, mention of weapons, mentions of aftercare, overstimulation, post season 7 pre omega, dom/sub dynamics, allusions to subspace, slight degradation, shower sex, mutual pining lots of kissing, no clonecest, liberties for hunter's tattoo, reader has hair long enough to pull, reader gets picked up and carried, i probably missed something let me know!

A/N: 5.6k of pure smut, absolutely no plot here. All mistakes are mine, repost and let me know what/if you like <3

As you climb the steps to the Marauder, something about this mission feels different.  It's been months since you've been away from the boys, and almost as long since you cared.  

Since running away from the clutches of the empire and charming your way aboard the ship you've become an asset to the team even in just your companionship, but it was also nice to have someone around who wasn't a clone.  It made it that much easier to do recon, and also that much easier to infiltrate a group because your face wasn't spread across every corner of the Empire. 

However, the longer you stayed with them, the more you valued what made them different.  You learned who to go to for help with blaster trouble, and even learned to overlook Crosshair’s slights during your target practice.  You’ve also learned that Hunter was sensitive to flowers and strong scents and that he had the best-smelling soap aboard the ship (and never seemed to mind when you used it). Tech, on the other hand, was always great at making you feel included, but was always, always going to double-check anything you did to the ship ‘just in case.’ Echo might've been one of the most interesting people to talk to, during his work with the 501st and the glory days of working alongside some of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy he saw many planets and cultures that you had only dreamed about.   Wrecker, well, he was a big softy despite his talent for demolitions and overall penchant for violence, he was the first to volunteer to take you out and stretch your legs in a nearby city and to help you bring home rations (and a sweet treat or two) for the rest of the crew, and has even carried you home from cantina trips a time or two. 

They were closer than any other troop you'd seen, all depending and working so tightly and neatly together you'd think that adding you to the mix would complicate things but all you seemed to do was fit in like sand in the desert.   You fell into a routine, they'd leave you at the ship during more dangerous jobs, typically with Echo or Tech at your side to assist with any repairs as you kept the inside of the ship in order, and kept a close eye on any equipment and prepping rations and meals as they became available. 

After a stop on Batuu, in which you fought every urge to procure a Loth cat, instead letting Crosshair buy you a long thin vibroblade to appease you.  “I haven't given up by the way.” You shout over your shoulder, as you settle into your seat before the others.  

“I've thought so.” Tech, his voice more amused than anything.  “Let us not berate the woman so that she uses that thing on us, shall we? We are cleared for takeoff.” Wrecker chuckles at the idea of you brandishing the thin blade to any of them.  You could hold your own for sure, but you were no ARC trooper. 

You settle aboard, staying seated until you reach the upper atmosphere, locking your cloak away with your blade, settling back into the seat near the cockpit, and resting your head against the wall.   

“If you need rest, my bunk is open,”  Wrecker whispers his words and his voice contradicting each other.  He's gruff but his speech is soft like he's afraid to startle you, he's cleaning his blaster but leans forward to speak softly to you. “It's still the biggest bunk.” He smiles and with his helmet in his lap, you can see the intense scaring over the side of his head, and your fingers twitch at your side begging to caress it.

“I'm fine thank you.”  You beam at him surprised by the crack in your voice and not wanting to seem ungrateful for the gesture.  “I’m quite content out here.”  Wrecker blushes, as if embarrassed he even brought it up.  

You can hear the audible judgemental breath of Crosshair even from your position behind his back, as he examines his rifle, something amiss and there's a thick tension in the room you can't quite place.  Glancing around as they settle in for take-off, none of them seem to want to meet your eyes.  

“I didn't expect you all to get so shy, I thought maybe you were starting to warm up to me.”   You let your voice trail off, a hint of a tease that cuts into the thick tension in the air for a brief moment. Before Hunter sharply stands up and lets his feet carry him towards you.  

Last night’s mission for Rex was messier than any of you had expected and used up the last of your bacta supply.  Hence the trip to Batuu, and what you thought was a tense conversation about purpose or authority between the group.  You’d overheard something about keeping secrets when you’d greeted them at the ship’s ramp and the pinched nerve in Hunter’s jaw encouraged you to keep your mouth shut.  Since the tension between each of them has been as taught and dangerous as a tightrope.  As the long-haired clone approached you, you sat straighter, already apologizing for being difficult before he cut you off. 

Leaning down until he is practically whispering in your ear, "We are programmed to be professional first and foremost. And we are not always so shy."

Just sharing your space with him has your body reacting to him, vibrating in both fear and a sneaking feeling of arousal.  His breath is hot and you turn to look into his dark brown eyes, eyes you should be so familiar with. “I am not an officer, I do not bite, and there's no reason to be formal.” the sentence comes out as a squeak, and you try to hide embarrassment flashing through your cheeks. 

He smiles, his voice dips lower but is so soft you swear you can feel his words caress your skin, “Easy hotshot, we might like a woman who bites.”

Oh, oh wow. We.

In an instant, everything and all your feelings about them shift and change.  You spent the last few rotations convincing yourself it was normal to feel bubbly around them, they'd saved you, and they were providing for you.  This feeling, the unmistakable pull of longing and need in the pit of your belly, would complicate things.  

Hunter stands and departs the conversation with an ease you envy.  You take a deep breath and compose yourself just to look up and see the rest of the crew watching you, like a wounded animal, you catch just a glimmer of a blush in Echo’s face.  

Rex mentioned they were a tight-knit group he seemed shocked you fell in line with them, but hell you didn't expect this.  Each of them is in their thoughts as you glance around the ship.  Echo and Tech are busying themselves with the controls, but you can see Echo worrying his lip, and Tech turning his head to glance at you every few moments as if wondering what will happen first.  Or rather who?  

Crosshair stares at you, blankly like he's trying to read every line in your smile or every wrinkle in your clothes, your eyes click together and he smiles like a lothcat with a womprat in his teeth. “You're not intimidated by us?”  It's almost as if he's as shocked as the fact itself,   there's a cutting edge to the statement like you should be, and then a corner of his mouth turns up. “You like being here,” he tests the statement as if tasting the fact on his tongue, “with all of us.”

You smirk, doing your best to match the heat in his stare, “I am grateful. I've never felt so important or wanted,” you swallow thickly letting the heat in your body you know Hunter can sense, speak for itself,   “At least, not yet.” You shift in your seat glancing up at Hunter who is glaring hungrily at your chest as if he could hear your heart leap in your chest with every passing moment.  

 You glance up to the stars ahead of the ship, Tech looks like he's preparing the ship to jump to light speed.  The return mission, at its worst, should only take a few days and even less of that is travel, normally you're not one for long lightspeed trips but this time you wonder if it will be too short.

The way the crew looks at you makes your skin tingle, not sure if you’ve ever been paid this much attention before.  As the ship lurches into hyperspace, you let your head lull back to catch Hunter's attention, peering up towards his face as your chin hovers just a foot away from his codpiece.  

Doing your best to keep your breath even, a part of you wishes to stand and kiss him, but this time it’s your turn to feel shy.  You stand, brushing your chest across Hunter’s’ and waltzing over to lean against the control panel of the ship and the two quieter clones on this ship.

The moment Tech realizes you’re moving towards him his posture is stuck straight, but Echo only leans slightly towards you as you pass your hand over his shoulder.  Standing at the front of the ship has only allowed them all to stare at you, your heart skips a beat.  You see Hunter’s eye twitch, he is reading you like a book.

“Well,” you speak slowly and eloquently, playing into their curiosity, “How should we pass the time?”

“Come here.” the room's attention snaps to Crosshair, whose red-hot gaze is marring into your skin. Silence falls over the craft as Crosshair lifts a hand and gestures toward his empty waiting lap.   Slowly, Echo, Tech, and Wrecker turn again towards you but Hunter stays strong locked into some silent dialogue with his brother.  

You feel as if it is entirely dangerous to cross the space between the two. Yet your feet carry you without worry, and neither of them breaks until their vision is obstructed by your body. You turn facing the softened expression in Hunter’s eyes, and slowly lower yourself onto Crosshair's lap.  

Placing your hands on his knees to steady yourself, you lean back until your head is resting on his chest and his breath is hot against the shell of your ear. “Good girl.” 

His whispers send shivers down your spine and Hunter sinks to his knees in front of you, as Cross removes your shirt from over your head and the rest of the Batch descends upon you like wolves.  

As Hunter’s face presses against the softness of your hip, Tech's teeth graze your neck and Wrecker's hands smooth over your nipples, you're overwhelmed at their strength.  These are battle-hardened soldiers, Crosshair runs a calloused finger down your spine, and you're reminded how soft you are.  Your skin is plush and comforts all of Hunter’s senses as the boys proceed to lose themselves upon you, you're reminded of the comfort they provide for you, a safety net you never knew you craved and the appetite you never knew could become so hungry.  

Your canvas pants are ripped down the leg by Wrecker and Hunter’s combined efforts, the sound almost drowned out by a collection of panting wanton noises, and the scraps hit the floor out of sight.  

Hunter noses across the top of your panties, letting his breath fan over the sensitive skin of your pussy as you feel Cross shift his hips and push his hard cock into your ass.  All of them are in full armor, save for the helmets, yet you lie strewn out before them slick pooling in your panties as they take turns pulling pleasure from your body like they serve no higher purpose.  

It's Wrecker who pulls himself from his flight suit first, and you can't remember ever having such a physical reaction to something like this before.  You reach out on instinct, fingers not wrapping completely around his girth and teasing the pink tip until it begins to leak into your palm.  He towers over your head as whimpers and shudders wrack through his body as though he's never been touched.  

You catch a glimpse of Echo, standing slightly off to the side, watching with his pupils fully dilated as he follows the path of Hunter’s mouth on your skin his face flush with crimson.  Tilting your head back you turn towards Crosshair and give him a deep kiss, letting him lick into your mouth feverishly. Hunter’s fingers trace over your seam delicately over the thin fabric of your panties as they grow transparent with your desire.  

Wrecker’s cock is thick and heavy in your hand, and you clench wantingly around nothing, his hips brush into your hand with a tenderness you long to experience. Crosshair snakes a hand up your chest and cradles the thin skin over your throat, chasing Tech’s glancing kisses away,  but taking the opportunity to encourage you to grind your hips against his cock.  

In a few mere movements, the men surrounding you have altered your state of mind and each passing touch coaxes you further into submission.  Tech shifts and lets his breath ghost over your nipples, you turn your head and catch Hunter in a deep kiss noting how different he tastes and feels against you. You let your thumb swipe over the leaking tip of Wrecker's cock, and fight the urge to stuff your fingers in your mouth to taste.  

Hunter breaks the kiss and steps away, letting Echo take his place between your legs but not before using his dagger to cut the hip of your undergarments and stuffing them into one of his pant pockets.  

You blush at the obscenity of it all, but it quickly soothed away but the cool metal of Echo’s headpiece brushing over your thighs. Wordlessly Crosshair adjusts the seat so your pussy is presented to Echo, leaning more onto your back and looking up at the boys devouring your form. 

His mouth is hot, licking softly over your clit as you relax with Crosshair stroking the pulse point in your neck.  You’re slick with arousal and he doesn’t hesitate to lick it up teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue. 

You writhe, letting yourself melt against him, fighting to stay concentrated enough to play with Wrecker’s balls tugging and rolling them beneath your fingers.  Eager to pleasure every one of them.  

Echo’s glove ghosts over your sex, teasing your entrance with a digit, the leather smoothly gliding over your skin. Hunter and Tech each take to stroking down your thighs and holding them in place, “Easy, meshla, we will take good care of you.” 

Your mind is swimming, when did this start? Tech steps a hair closer to your face, tilting your jaw up with his free hand, and slips a finger past your lips. You suck lightly, sure to match the pace at which you’re stroking Wrecker.  You get a praising hum, and Tech surprisingly is the second to drop his pants and pull himself free. Stroking himself to the rhythm of you teasing him with a curl of your tongue.    

It's the tangled moan of you around Tech’s fingers that breaks Crosshair, his pants unbearably tight and each little movement of your hips making him clench his jaw to stave the noises that die in his throat.  He lifts you to your feet, and removes his pants, letting himself spring free.  You have to admit you expected the armor to be harder to take off. 

You stand on unsteady feet, in an attempt to turn your head towards Crosshair, Hunter captures your chin in two fingers locking your eyes together.  “Echo.” A chuckle reverberates between them, all seemingly on board with whatever plan this could be. Echo slides flat onto his back looking up at you and the rest of the boys.  The realization is enough to make you shiver. Your pussy clenches, still empty, but a dripping mess sticks your thighs together.  Hunter’s eyes are burning through your resolve, there’s an intensity you’d come to respect that now sends a spike of fear through you.  “Sit.”

You go to protest but are quickly shut down and you look around at the men surrounding you eagerly but patiently waiting for you to follow his instructions.  Swallowing thickly over the lump in your throat, you sink to your knees and hover a few inches from Echo’s waiting mouth.  From your knees they tower above you, all but Hunter free from their confines.  You get a good look at the three cocks, all weeping and swollen pink across their tip, beautifully complimenting the darker-tanned skin of their shaft.  

Each of them was different, which only slightly surprises you, Wrecker being the thickest, but both Tech and Crosshair meet him in length.  You can feel each breath from Echo’s mouth, knowing you're probably close to dripping across his chin. You lower slowly, afraid to hurt him, until he licks the seam of your entrance savoring the hot flesh and you seek his tongue sitting on his face in earnest.  His mouth brings welcome waves of pleasure as he suckles on your clit.  

They pump themselves slowly, enjoying the view of your tits bouncing with each shiver.   You start to move your hips in small circles while reaching to palm over Crosshair’s balls and stroking up over his shaft squeezing a bead of precome from the tip.  You open your mouth and glance between them, expecting to see some kind of hierarchy emerge but they take a half step toward you together.  

You opt for taking Tech into your mouth, but only because he's in the middle, letting yourself drool around him as you suck on the thick knot of his cock head, before turning and spitting the excess saliva onto Crosshair’s cock coating it with slick to make your fist glide against him nice and quickly. Tightening around the base and working more of those beautiful precum drips from his leaking tip.  

You snap back to Tech’s cock, tasting the sweat of his skin, and the desire for your body grows with each passing second as he throbs needfully in your mouth.  

Echo is teasing your clit with calculated movements of his tongue, licking around it in sharp purposeful circles, and sucking on it every few passes.  Enough to make your brain fuzz up each time his lips seal around you as Tech nudges the back of your throat to earn a gag.  

You pull off him again, this time gathering the drool in your mouth to cover as much of Wrecker's cock as you physically can.  His cock is so heavy it sways low on his hips thick and so hard your body is already aching for the sting that will accompany the stretch.  You use the thick spit to pump him slower, allowing yourself a moment to admire what has to be the largest you'll ever get the chance to worship. 

The slick sounds are broken with an “Atta girl.”  in the shape of a deep growl from Wrecker’s chest.  He reaches and gathers some drool from your chin and brushes it over your lip and you open instinctively, just as Echo uses his tongue to prod at your entrance.  His praise is as wholesome as his affection for you.

Hunter has taken a seat across from the rest of you, watching as if analyzing each movement of your legs as they quiver from the ravenous pleasure and your throat tightens around the length of Crosshair's shaft.  His thin fingers find purchase at the back of your neck, urging you to sputter around him and the sick squelch just barely audible beneath your moans. 

Echo swiftly plunges two fingers into your pussy, crooking them and stroking deliciously at your g-spot and forcing you to pull yourself away from Crosshair to let your head drop as you fight for composure.  “Let yourself enjoy it little one.  It won’t be your last.” Cross takes the tip of his cock and taps the tip to your tongue.  

You swear, body humming and teetering on the edge before losing yourself to one hellishly explosive orgasm.  It shocks you, body shaking and toes curling against the cool floor as your body burns in the aftershocks Echo works you through it with some tentative kisses to your entrance, and he encourages you to sit up so he can slide out from under you. 

So much of the room is spinning you don’t notice Tech sitting in front of you until you’re kissing him.  His tongue finds yours in a syrupy sweet and methodical kiss as you fight to catch your breath.  Wrecker moves behind you, running his rough hands down your back and palming the flesh of your ass, striking it with a loud slap.  

Tech swallows your gasp, pinching your nipples and pulling them as Wrecker bends you at the waist until you’re scrambling to your hands and knees sucking Tech into your mouth with a compliant and satisfied hum.  

Hunter speaks up, “Turn around.” The trance is broken for the briefest of seconds, and you don't have time to think before they’re turning you so you’re faced with Wrecker’s huge cock and Tech teases your entrance with the tip of his cock.  The passive command that Hunter has over all of you gives you goosebumps, his authority even stronger than the ache they share for you. 

You sink to your elbows, propping your ass up on display and practically begging for Tech to fuck you, pushing back onto the head of his cock, all while blinking away tears as Wrecker’s size makes your jaw ache.  The larger man splays his hand across the back of your head, inciting your thick moans as you work as much of him as you can fit. 

Tech’s hips pitch forward and he’s splitting you open in one fluid deep thrust until your ass is nestled against his hips and he grunts at the eager squeeze of your sex around him. You work your hips in sync with your head the drag of his cock along your walls is unlike anything you’ve ever felt.  He shifts from both knees to one, allowing a deeper thrust to kiss your cervix with a hiss of pain-laced pleasure.  He sets a pace, hips meeting yours in synchronous harmony, and the three of you get lost in each other's pleasure.  

You’re briefly aware of Crosshair stroking himself above you and Hunter is still watching with bated breath as you service his brothers, wondering if you’ll let each of them have a turn or if they’ll need to give you a break.  

Tech snakes a hand around to press a firm thumb against your clit, and a rush of fluid hits the floor of the cargo space that permeates his senses. The sickly sweet smell of your release coats his tongue and he chokes the head of his cock through his clothes to stop him from cumming before he even gets to touch you.  

Your vision is white, and you’re vaguely aware of the spend running down your thighs.  When Tech pulls himself free with a grunt you feel the hot ropes of his cum on your back you whine, feeling ashamed that you long for him to finish inside of you.  You clench around nothing and sit up to look at Wrecker who brushes a hair out of your face.  You kiss him, softly at first, unsure of his comfort with the taste of his precome in your mouth, but he growls and lifts you by your waist, licking into your mouth as he helps you hover over his cock.  

You take advantage of the break, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking the weight off your knees in favor of straddling him. Even in his lap, you’re looking up at him.  Letting gravity do some of the work, you adjust to let him prod at your entrance and sink slowly onto him, the slick warmth of your pussy a welcome substitute for your pretty mouth. 

His chest rumbles beneath yours, groaning as your pussy flutters around him.  You kiss him through a grimace, “Take your time.” He whispers against your mouth, low enough you’re not sure the others hear him.  Heart swelling at the compassion, you let him slowly rock his hips against you, easing his way into your heat and keeping his hands splayed across your hips to support you.  

It’s a slow process, each inch accompanied by breathless and muffled moans followed by kisses and words of endearment.  “You can take it mesh’la.” You’re nearly there, body so in tune with his every word you nearly forgot your showmanship. 

Crosshair is to your right, one hand gripping the base of his cock as precome dribbles and hangs just out of reach from your eager tongue, muttering something in a language you don’t understand. 

You swear you can feel the throb of Wrecker inside of you, and he presses his mouth to your forehead as he pistons his hips slowly angling your body in a way so that he’s moving you along his shaft effortlessly. 

Breathless and spent, you let him.  Being filled by him is almost overwhelming, each push and pull feeling like he's going to split you in half.   He mumbles and groans into your hairline, speaking nonsense in between bitten-off praise.  When his fingers find your clit you all but cry, shaking your head in protest, “Please- I can't.” 

It's Hunter that answers your cries, “You can.” His voice hoarse with need and restraint, “Be a good girl.” Your brow furrows, in concentration, tossing your head back in near agony at the overstimulation. 

Wrecker leans forward and presses his mouth to the column of your throat sucking on the thin skin and leaving a pink welt in his wake.  You feel as if you could explode, not able to hear the sounds of your screams as you shudder and writhe under his touch, against his skin and your body falls slack with the overwhelming pleasure. 

He lifts his face and you catch a pleased smile, like a loth-wolf with its prey in its teeth.  As he throbs and fucks his spend deep into your core.  They all see the muted smile tug at the corner of your mouth as Wrecker cums inside you.  

He holds you for a moment, kissing over the reddish blemish on your throat and waiting for you to make eye contact with him before slipping free with a tangled whimper from both of you.  

Wrecker wraps your legs around him and stands on sturdy legs, you cling to him, resting your cheek on his shoulder hyperaware of the wetness between your thighs. He sets you on Hunter's lap, in your euphoria, he’s lost his pants and sits still in a pair of soft cotton underwear, stark black against his tanned abdomen.  It’s now that you notice his tattoo, so familiar with the portion on his face you never notice how the tattoo bleeds across the entire left side of his body.  

The lines are both clean and elegant, highlighting the rich flawless tone of his figure.  Gorgeously broad shoulders with rippling cords of muscles supporting your cheek as you rest your head lazily and admire him.  Placing a lingering and exhausted kiss to the stretch of skin between his shoulder and neck and relishing the warmth of him against your sweat-soaked skin, in the extra cold air of a ship in hyperspace.  

He runs his fingers through your hair, scratching lightly and working every line of tension out of you over a few minutes.  You distantly hear the sound of the fresher’s shower being turned on.  Crosshair is gone, and you fear a pang of regret and pity. 

 Your breath is coming easier by the time, Hunter carries you towards the sound of the water.  Crosshair meets you both under the water’s spray refreshing your senses and soothing the ache of your muscles. You get settled on your feet between them, legs feeling like they’re made of sand, Hunter’s body is pressed tightly to your back, anchoring and steadying you as you greet Crosshair with an inviting kiss. 

He welcomes your touch, all but overtaking your space completely as you get pressed between the two of them and lost to the feeling of their bodies against yours, Hunter nestled into the small of your back and Crosshair’s cock leaking and purple with need against your belly.

The steam only adds to the dreamlike quality of it all, tendrils wafting off the ground and highlighting the sight of your ass pressed against him.  Hunter doesn’t want to hurt you, but each passing second without fucking you is making him lose his sanity.  As if he might just sink into the floor with the weight of his need crushing him entirely.  

He nibbles at your earlobe, earning a low whine from your chest.  You tilt your head in invitation for his affection, kissing up the column of your neck and tasting the water on your skin tangled with the smell of his brothers.  He makes eye contact with Crosshair, and they communicate silently as they spin you around and switch roles.  

Hunter licking into your mouth and letting his hand run down to your hip and pull you to him.  Expecting the press of Crosshair to your back, you’re startled when you feel the graze of his teeth on your ass.  His palms run over the smooth skin, kneading the flesh and watching it move in response to his touch.  

Crosshair splays a hand on the small of your back, urging you to lean forward.  You glance over your shoulder as he spreads you open and licks a stripe across your asshole. The feeling sends a shiver down your spine, you hear a chuckle as he presses the pad of his thumb into you and watches you with a hungry stare. 

Hunter distracts you, kissing you slowly and running his hands soothingly down your back as Crosshair preps you to take him until he’s working two fingers in and out of you and sucking a bruise into your hip to match the one adorning your throat.  

You nibble on Hunter’s lip, and bury your hands into his hair, tugging at the root living for the whimpers you get out of him.  Crosshair kisses his way up your spine, standing straight, and this time you see them.  There’s a small nod of agreement and both of them turn their full attention to you, “You gonna let us fuck you cyar’ika?”

 Without hesitation, you nod.  You’re not able to explain, how you were able to wrap your arms around Hunter as he hoisted you up his waist and you sank down onto his length.  Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the way he demanded your submission through the tone of his voice.  No, you thought, it was the way he sounded like he was begging you, he commanded your attention but the way he used his authority had you believing that you, and what he asked of you, was the most important thing in the galaxy.  You wanted nothing more than to give him everything he asked for and more. 

They give you a moment, Hunter biting his lip as your cunt squeezes him like you haven’t already come three times already.  You throw an arm around Crosshair’s neck opening your legs just enough for him to slot himself against you and slowly push into you with the cant of his hips.  

He goes incredibly slow, sawing his hips back and forth and relishing in the feeling of Hunter’s cock also nestled deep inside you making you impossibly tighter and the friction of your walls against him.  

It feels like too much, pain and pleasure mixing in an enchanting cocktail of stimulation, yet still the familiar tug of an orgasm stirs in your belly.  You suppress a sob at the idea of coming for a fourth time around the both of them.  They hush you, nuzzling against you and pressing righteous and thankful kisses to your skin, “Look at you, pretty girl.” Crosshair’s voice is so low and drawn out that it takes every last shred of your concentration to hear what he’s saying, “You look so good taking everything we give you.” 

The inflection acts like a highlight reel, your body remembering along with your brain the feeling of being the center of attention during your first orgasm.  The complexity of your second. The white-hot stretch of Wrecker using and worshipping your body filling you to the brim during the aftershocks of your third.  Hunter whispers against the shell of your ear, “Good girl.” Reading the signs of your body and feeling the crest of your orgasm build around him, and pulling you over the edge with his praise. 

He presses his forehead to yours as he follows close behind, senses overwhelmed and fighting the bend to his knees as they buckle with the intensity of his climax.

Crosshair pumps into you from behind, lifting one of your legs slightly and changing the angle so he can thrust deeper grinding into you, and urging you to lean more heavily on him to keep the three of you from collapsing as he stills and spills into you. 

The three of you pant in silence, ragged breath lost in the noise of the water hitting the metal floor of the fresher, you wordlessly separate.  The endorphins running through your bloodstream turn your muscles' pain into a blissful ache you never want to forget. 

[marvelmymarvel]

Heir

Silva x Reader

Synopsis: His wife was crazy, hell, you'd be crazy too if you knew your husband was sleeping around... But it wasn't your fault he loved you and not her.

Her shrill cry hit your ears, making you wince from your spot next to Silva. He currently had you wrapped up under his arm, hand absentmindedly caressing the bare skin of your arm. "Kikyo" he warned, eyes darkening a bit as she continue to wail about how evil he was for having a mistress.

This wasn't new knowledge, she had known about it for some time now. This was just her weekly temper tantrum. "I just don't understand how you could do this to me. The woman who gave you your CHILDREN"

Silva's lip curled into a snarl, there was that jab again... The classic 'mother of your children' saying was always the stab she took in the hopes that it would wake him up, but it only ever angered him. Your eyebrows crinkled in distress as you felt the bloodlust oozing from the man who was now gripping you tightly against him. You couldn't run and hide from his anger if you tried. You were just thankful it wasn't directed at you.

"Kikyo."

The woman stopped wailing as the venomous tone and bloodlust hit her finally. You could see her hands shaking, and you felt bad. Not bad enough to stop the relationship you had with the head of the Zoldyck family, but enough to put your hand on his thigh, hoping it would calm him even a little.

And it seemed to work.

He let out a deep exhale, free hand coming up to rub at his eyes. If he could leave her he would, he would much rather be married to you than to her, but he hadn't met you when he needed to settle down some 26 years ago. "I've been nothing but loving towards you, what does she have that I don't?"

You lightly gasped at the question, eyes flicking from Kikyo to Silva in shock. He sat there in silence, staring into her soul as if trying to banish her from the earth altogether. "She was the one who gave me Killua" your eyes widened at his statement. Many things were well-known and talked about, but this was not one of them.

You cringed as Kikyo's sniffles hit your ears. Having Killua with Silva was not something you were proud of, the guilt ate you up to the point where you gave him up to Kikyo, allowing her to care for him as if she carried and birthed him herself. It seemed to have appeased her, and she went on to have two more children with Silva after. But you knew the reason for that was just her trying to prove that she too could give Silva what you did.

An heir.

It was a low blow though, and it made all of the guilt rush through you like a violent hurricane. "Silva..." you whispered out, tone teetering on guilt and warning. He paid no mind to you though. Standing from his spot, he walked towards a sobbing Kikyo. His hands rose to cup her cheeks and while you'd normally feel jealous, all you felt was shame.

You should have never slept with him 12 years ago. Should have never given in to his blue eyes and blonde hair, but you did and now you were here. Stuck in the middle of the family drama that you yourself caused.

He leaned down to be eye level with her, a passerby would have found it sweet, but you knew better. "You mean nothing to me. The children you've given mean nothing to me. I don't know what else I need to do to get you to see that"

That was a lie, the children part at least was. He cared deeply for all of his children, Killua was just special to him. You knew that the hurtful words were only spewed to bite back at her stab but you wished he would have let it go. "Silva" you called out as you shakily stood from the pillow.

Kikyo was now sobbing so hard that she was choking, the sound didn't do anything to Silva, but it was breaking your heart. "Silva leave her alone..." you whispered out as your fingers ghosted his arm before gripping the flesh to pull him away from her. He let you move him away from her, something Kikyo has never been able to do.

The sight only made her sob harder. How could you, of all people, make the man she loved do anything you asked of him? She gave him everything and loved him through everything. But you? You did nothing and yet can control everything about him. Before he goes on jobs, he asks you about your opinion on the danger of the task at hand. When he leaves the house, he asks you if you'd like to join him. When it's time for bed, he'll wait for you because he can't seem to sleep without you.

Her eyes snapped to yours as you looked back at her over your shoulder. "Can you please go get Gotoh" you called out to the butler by the door. The butler left without another word, rushing down the hall to get the head butler who helped Kikyo remain calm. Silva sat back down with a huff, legs crossing as he leaned back in annoyance. You turned back fully to Kikyo, sadness and regret written all over your face.

"I'm sorry Kikyo" you stated firmly, but anyone who knew you could hear the nervous waver in your voice. Despite being annoying, Kikyo was far from weak. She could kill you in two seconds if she really wanted to.

And she really wanted to right now.

But you didn't care anymore. Walking towards her slowly, you waited for her to break down again. But she was silent. You stopped just feet from her, lips pursing as you took in just how tense the air was. Silva called your name out in warning as if he knew deep down that she would attack you while he wasn't by your side.

But maybe you deserved it.

"I'm sorry for everything" your words caused her to inhale sharply, hands forming into fists as she shook in her place. You had no right to apologize. The only way to make this right was for you to leave. But Silva would never let you leave. So there was only one other way to make this right.

You had to die.

Silva felt the shift in the air quicker than you did. Kikyo's hand shot towards your chest, fingers shaped into a sharp form. Your breath hitched but you knew there was no escaping it. You should have been faster...

But Silva was fast enough.

His hand stopped hers right as the fingernails pierced the skin of your chest. She could feel the way your heart was beating frantically under her fingertips. Oh, how she wanted to feel it pound in her hand as she watched the life drain from your eyes. But, with the way Silva was gripping her did she realize she had made a grave mistake.

Silva pushed you behind him as he ripped Kikyo up to him angrily "Lay a hand on her again and I will feed you to the dogs" the words hit your ears, and you would have scolded him for uttering them, but you couldn't think straight - not with all the adrenaline in your veins and the tension in the air.

Kikyo sputtered out apologies but it only angered the silver haired man more.

It all went silent though when the door opened. "Madame. I was called to retrieve you" Gotohs voice broke the tension and you sighed in relief. Silva let her go, allowing her to run to Gotoh in fear. Gotoh didn't say anything, only grabbed her by the shoulder and moved her out of the room.

The sound of the door closing echoed in the room and mixed with your heavy breathing. Silva was in front of you before you could blink, hand reaching for your shirt where blood was pooling. "I'll be okay" you croaked out but he ripped the shirt open regardless, eyes narrowing at the cuts Kikyo marred you with.

"She will be dealt with accordingly" he whispered as he applied pressure to one of the heavier bleeding wounds. You didn't say anything, knowing that not even you could stop what would happen to her. He loved you a lot, maybe even too much. But you couldn't deny that you loved him as well. You reached up to pull his hand away, smiling softly at the confused look on his face.

Dropping his hand, you stepped forward before wrapping your arms around his torso, hiding your face in his chest as you gave into the part of you that needed him close. You didn't care if you were hurt. You didn't care that Kikyo would try to kill you every chance she got. None of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was him. And as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a loving kiss to the top of your head -

You knew he felt the same.

[coquelicoq]

Xiao Heng had managed to get his very inebriated wife into their room without carrying her, but only just. He had in fact tried to pick her up at one particularly tricky part of the hallway (a lip in the floor had threatened to trip her up, literally and figuratively), but she had insistently pushed at his arms until he let her get back to her very important business of navigating around the obstacle. Now he led her to the bed and sat her on the edge, hovering for a moment to make sure she wasn't about to fall over, then settled on the floor to take off her shoes.

He had just gotten the first one off when she spoke. "Hey," she said.

He looked up. A'Li was staring at him, a bit glassy-eyed, a furrow between her brows. "Yes?" he said, and when a reply was not immediately forthcoming, added, "How are you feeling?" She needed to drink some water, though he had been hoping to get her in a more stable position first before going in search of a pitcher.

"You," she said suspiciously. "Whatchu doin' down there?" She squinted. "Gongzi," she tacked on after a moment of consideration.

Gongzi? That was a new one. "I'm taking off your shoes," he ventured, and held up the one in his hand. "Since I think it may be beyond your capabilities at the moment."

The brow-furrow deepened. "Your face," she said.

She wasn't always the most eloquent drunk, but she'd get to a sentence eventually. "My face?" he prompted.

There was a pause as she inspected him with half-lidded eyes. "'s good," she said finally.

Waiting for her to make a sentence had been worth it. "You like my face?" he said, delighted. His wife was a delightful drunk.

"'s good face," she said, sounding defensive. Her lips were turning down at the corners. Adorable.

"I'm glad you think so," he said, still feeling, despite all the intervening years, just as warm as he had that night in the rain in Luyang.

She must have found something about his reaction unsatisfying because her frown deepened. "'s'not that good," she said. "Not as good as th' face--" A hiccup cut her off and she startled, losing her train of thought. She stared at him in surprise. "What?" she said, as if he had been the one interrupted.

This would be the perfect opportunity to move the conversation in a more productive, sleep-adjacent direction, if he weren't dying to know whose face his wife liked better than his. "You were saying, you've seen better faces than mine, apparently," he said. He was not pouting, because he wasn't a baby.

"Yeah," she said, emphatically. "Face of Xiao Heng. M' husban'."

"Your…husband?" he said slowly. "Your husband Xiao Heng? You like his face better than my face?"

"So what?" she said, belligerent. "'m allowed. He's mine."

"That he is," Xiao Heng agreed, nonplussed. She must be drunker than he thought. Drunk enough to forget who he was--but thankfully not so drunk that she forgot he existed. Theoretically. Somewhere.

"Well," she said, seeming appeased. "You got good eyebrows."

"You like my eyebrows, huh?" He raised them at her.

"Yeah," she said, jabbing a finger in their general direction. He caught it before she could poke out his eye. "Nice an' hairy."

"You like my eyebrows because they're…hairy?" he asked, but she had already moved on, her gaze now trained hazily on his mouth. "What?" he said, curious to know what she would have to say about that part of his anatomy, but she just kept staring. "You are so drunk," he teased.

"'m not," she said, frowning again. She pushed at his hand until he released her finger.

"No? You're totally sober right now? Could have fooled me," he said.

"Not drunk. Don't get drunk," she said. "Not safe."

Now it was his turn to frown. "How come it's not safe?" he said, though he wasn't sure why he was asking. He already knew the answer.

"People can do stuff. To you," she said, enunciating carefully, "when you are incap…sasitaded."

"Incapacitated," he said automatically.

"Sapsidated," she agreed, nodding her head, then stopped immediately and clutched her temples. He put his hands on her thighs to steady her, then thought better of it. She thought he was some stranger, after all.

She squinted at him again. "You're not gonna, though," she said matter-of-factly.

"Not gonna what?"

"Do stuff to me."

"That's right," he said. "I won't do anything. How could you tell?"

"Just know these things," she said loftily.

"Oh?" He smiled, relieved and endeared. She felt safe with him, even when she didn't know why. Teasing, he asked, "But how do you know these things?"

"Tell you a secret," she said, leaning forward precariously. He caught her by the shoulders, propping her up. In the whisper-shout of drunks everywhere, she said, "'m a very. Smart. Cookie."

He loved her. To the ends of the earth, he loved her. "Is that so?" he said, and thought about how much he would kiss her in the morning. She would be cranky, and her breath would be horrible, and he would kiss her and kiss her and kiss her. "And that's a secret?"

"What's a secret?" she asked curiously, and he laughed, and she glared at him, and he felt his love for her like a balloon about to burst inside of him. "I think it's bedtime for you, sober-niangzi," he said.

If looks could kill they'd be scraping pieces of him off the walls tomorrow. "Sober-furen," she corrected, and then added, "'s'not for you to decide," managing to sound imperious despite her drooping eyelids and the fact that only his intervention was keeping her from faceplanting onto the floor.

"That's true," he said. "That was just this one's humble opinion. What does sober-furen think? Perhaps she'd like to play a game of Go?"

"'m very good at Go," she said, and then, emphatically, "very good. Better'n you def'nitely."

"Yes, I believe that," he said. "Well, you would be doing me a great favor not to challenge me to a game of Go this evening. My ego is very fragile, you know."

"Yeah, I bet," she said, much more confidently than he thought was warranted, then she smiled at him. "'s'okay," she said, reaching out and haphazardly patting the side of his topknot. "Least you got good eyebrows."

Xiao Heng felt his heart clench inside him from an excess of tenderness. One of the things he had learned from knowing A'Li was that hearts could do that. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than for her to recognize him, to remember that they played Go all the time and she was in fact better than him, specifically. For her to love his eyebrows because they belonged to him, her husband. "Have you told him?" he asked. "Your husband. Does he know how much you like his face?"

"He knows," she said. "I told him."

"Maybe you should tell him again," said Xiao Heng. "The next time you see him. I think he'd like to hear it again."

"You think?" she asked, and then, before he could reply, she started to rise from the bed, as if to find him and tell him that very instant.

He caught her and pulled her back down. "Not right now. Just sit and rest your eyes for a moment. When you open them, he'll be here and you can tell him anything you want. Okay?"

She looked down at him, still on the floor. "He'll be here? How d'you know?"

He smiled. "Just know these things," he said. "I'm something of a smart cookie myself. I get it from my wife."

She was quiet long enough he thought surely she had lost the thread of their conversation. But eventually she said, "Okay. Then I'll wait here fr'im."

He thought of the long years she had already waited, and wanted to tell her, he's here, I'm here, I'll never make you wait again. But her eyes were closing, and she trusted him, both the him-that-was-here, to be a safe person, and the him-that-was-her-husband, to return to her. He knew what a gift that was, to be trusted by her.

So he took off her other shoe, then made quick work of her hairpins. He swung her legs onto the bed, one hand behind her shoulder blades to lower her back onto the cushions. He lifted her head and repositioned the bolster under her neck. He hadn't had the chance to make her drink water, and he'd surely hear all about that tomorrow. But he was looking forward to it--tomorrow, that is. Tomorrow she would recognize him.

He sat on the edge of the bed and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "See you when you wake up," he murmured, and looked toward the east, willing the earth to turn faster, willing the sun to rise.

[lilyrachelcassidy]

Birthday Buzz

Mattheo Riddle x Reader 

A/N: hi! loving your feedback and constructive criticism, so if you feel like sharing your opinion, feel free to do such! love ya 

Summary: How birthday day can go in such a different way than initially planned. 

Warnings: oh yes! language, some mild graphics (make-up lol), bitchy Pansy, and... have I mentioned language??

Word Count (bruh): 5.1k 

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

No one would have convinced Y/N in the morning that what had just transpired was coming around, in such a slapdash rapidity as it had. Even so, with that clear-cut fact smacking her right across the face was it still so damn hard to believe that... that it was true.  

She must be hallucinating. Or dreaming. Even the phenomenon of swines with the wings in the air would have been more feasible than... what was that exactly?  

It all started with Y/N descending to the Great Hall, the walls woven with the luminant sunlight of the spring. Entering the room, humid and somewhat irksome (it was Monday, everything is irksome on Mondays, alright?), she instantly noticed a few details: McGonagall's new insipid hairstyle, the plate with her go-to breakfast already stowed in her regular sitting spot, Pansy’s huge grin tacked on her lips, and Blaise missing. The latest part surprised Y/N the most because she knew that Blaise would never skip a breakfast, and these were his usual hours of arriving; maybe he had already eaten?  

Also, what’s the Pansy’s deal with smiling like a madman who overdosed on the crack?  

What in the world...  

“Haiya you!” Pansy scrambled to her feet, without giving Y/N a chance to query. “Guess what! Or no, you are so bullshit at guessing anyways... Slytherin is throwing a party today!”  

The last part of her sentence came out in a feverish murmur, so that the Teachers’ Table wouldn’t overhear their conversation, and only loud enough for Y/N to hear. Still, her excitement was speaking volumes and Y/N wondered quickly whether Pansy really hadn’t dosed on a shot or two before the breakfast. Not that she wasn’t like that on a daily basis.  

“What? It’s literally the beginning of the week.”

“But not every week does someone have a birthday!” As Pansy’s elation gently receded, was then Y/N able to finally to abscond herself at the table and munch on the already-prepared food. Upon seeing Y/N frowning, Pansy let out a shrill shriek which made a few people nearby glance crabwise at the two. “You didn’t forget, did you?”  

“About what?”  

Another shriek followed. “Mattheo’s birthday!”  

An awkward grimace popped on Y/N’s face, brows knitting together. “Well... if you haven’t noticed, we are not precisely on the friendly terms.”  

Pansy made a fish-like O with her mouth, obviously about to say something appeasing, but the grunt next to Y/N interrupted. Promptly, she looked for the owner of the voice and was astonished to learn that the rest of their group was siding just next to her and Pansy, ostensibly listening to their exchange from the starters.  

“Well, well... just look who has finally decided to acknowledge the rest of her friends. Good morning to you too, Y/N.”  

She smirked. “No need to be so bitter, Theo. A few more years of practice and you may replace Snape in his disgruntlement.” A snort issued at the table and Y/N, complacent, grinned cheekily at Theo who only huffed. “Oh, don’t be like that, Theo, you know I love you.” Laying her head against his shoulder, she patted him at the top of his head. “There, there...”  

“So... party you say,” spoke up Draco for the first time. He was chewing on his morning toast, evidently amused by the entire scene, but his eyes had a ghost of a question in them. Y/N already knew that this topic wasn’t going to slip by as easily. “Have you really forgotten about Mattheo?”  

A smear of naked embarrassment splattered on Y/N’s cheeks. A part of her wanted to tell everyone to back off and just let her be, but at the same time, she knew she had blundered. It didn’t matter if they were close with Mattheo or not; they belonged to the same coterie, so it entangled some commitment. Even if that indicated associating with the bombastic entitlement of Mattheo for longer than the ideal time.  

“Mhm... Yeah. You know. How was I supposed to know, really. We barely talk.” While saying so, Y/N made sure to perform the best glower she could pull off. She felt extremely petulant while doing so, but she wanted to fend for herself and not let anyone manoeuvre her into culpability.  

“I told you about that, like two days ago!” Pansy had a distinct air of displeasure, as though personally offended by the occurrence. “I specifically highlighted ‘please, try to remember, it’s important’ and you said ‘fine’!”

“Well, I did not remember. And so, what? Don’t make such a big fuss about that. It’s not like he cares anyways,” Y/N said that with a nose in her breakfast plate, trying to avert the gaze from the rest, especially from Pansy who seemed to be at the brink of incredulity.  

She should have remembered though. She should have.  

Shit, shit, shit...  

Theo grunted again. “It’s not the end of the world, Pansy, we only have to find a way to... make Y/N appear like she’s not an ignorant brat who forgot about her friend's birthday.” A beat. Theo peeked at Y/N goadingly, but she was already shooting daggers at him; that made him smirk. “She can pin her name on the present we got with Blaise.”  

“Thank you, that’s really sweet,” said Y/N, making a U-turn and smiling gratefully at her friend. Gosh, she didn’t know what she would have done without this insolent arse. In order to take the limelight off herself, Y/N continued: “Why did you decide to organize the party so last-minute, anyways?”

“We didn’t know till now if we would be able to smuggle the booze,” said Draco through the half-full mouth.  

“And how ar--”  

“Don’t ask,” interjected Pansy with the look that explicitly indicated that Y/N wouldn’t like to know that piece of information. “Blaise is fixing everything.”  

In response, Y/N merely nodded.  

“So here is a deal,” Pansy continued after a beat. She lowered her timbre as if revealing a top-secret gossip to a bunch of nine-year-olds. “When Mattheo comes down, we are going to pretend like we don’t remember about his birthday. He is going to be sulking all day long and stuff-”

“Highly doubt th-”  

“However.” If the looks could kill, Theo would be surely laying prostrate, French-kissing the floor. “At around...” She looked at her wristwatch. “8-ish, Y/N will ask Mattheo if he could help her out, at the same time hauling him to the Common Room. And that’s when all of us will jump out and hold a fucking “Surprise” banner right in front of his pretty face. Clear much?”  

Y/N exhaled, with one nagging thought in her head. Why was she always the one to be arranged in such a setting with Mattheo? Her friends were acutely aware of the enmity between the two, yet they always impelled them to work together, both if it came to the school projects or even the group hangouts when everyone – beside her and Mattheo, obviously – would suddenly mingle out of the gathering last-minute.  

As if sensing the ongoing dissension in Y/N’s head, Pansy critically eyed Y/N and furrowed, precisely addressing her concerns: “Something to add, Y/N?”  

“No, I love the plan,” she replied quickly, after a moment of contemplation. “It’s that I’m not sure about the latest bit. I—I don’t know if he will accede, you know, with helping me out. We aren’t that friendly, so it may seem a tad suspicious that all of the sudden I’m asking him for a favour.”  

No one said anything for a couple of seconds, but everyone seemed to be having the same hardwired thought as they threw each other the same bemused look, chewing the silence away. The tension of the message, so palpable it was, that it made Y/N snap out of the anticipation; she turned to Pansy, catching the waft of her strong double expresso, and then ogled each of her friends with an expectant eye.  

“What?” Her tone seemed brusque, even to herself. “Why are you all acting so... meek? Is there something I don’t know about?” And then, the thought dawned at her: “Has Mattheo said something about me?”  

Another round of chary looks followed, but before anyone was able to lodge a definite answer to the barrage of Y/N’s questions, the voice from behind echoed:  

“Morning, everyone.”  

Y/N whirled so abruptly, it almost cost her a whiplash, but when she saw the way Mattheo suited himself today, it most definitely caused her that whiplash. He was clad in a button-up shirt, the last couple of buttons undone and exposing the cleavage; his hair of the usual dark-brown curl was tumbling in its usual haphazard style and accentuating his prominent cheekbones; most definitely, the vague scar across his face did not make Y/N anyhow randy. Anyhow!

What struck Y/N the most, however, was the halo above his head – sunlight seeping through the Great Hall’s windows and highlighting Mattheo’s figure. The image was so angelic, so lofty, it suddenly caused the dryness in her throat. She thought she must be melting under those caramel-brown eyes like a humongous puddle of sweat and adoration.  

No, she most definitely did not develop a crush on her frenemy, that couldn’t be right.    

Y/N suddenly realized that she might be gawking, so she promptly returned to her previous position, all her aptitude to eat and breathe gone. Sidewise, she also noticed Pansy grinning knowingly at her, and when Y/N gave her an evil eye, she merely shrugged in a manner of “you know what I mean.”  

Mattheo, instead of occupying his usual spot at the table, squeezed in between Y/N and some Slytherin second-year. Y/N had a vague impression that he was awaiting his friends to suddenly burst singing “Happy Birthday” or bestow him with wishes, because his lips were pressed in a thin line, and he was silently scooping the porridge from the ornamental bowl.  

“So, what’s new, Mattheo?” asked Theo which felt so widely inappropriate that Y/N suddenly had an urge to boot him.  

From this proximity, Y/N could perceive the brief flash of hurt across Mattheo’s features, but that was only for milliseconds. He plastered a sham smile on his face, and only tipped off with a short: “Not much.”  

“We were actually talking,” started Pansy, carefully. “That Y/N needed some tutoring in Potions.” This time, Y/N seriously contemplated booting someone. Namely, Pansy. “Maybe you could help her, Mattheo? You are good at Potions, right?”  

Dismissing Pansy’s last question, Mattheo finally eyed Y/N who was maxing out the redness of her face. She gave him a bashful smile. “Really? I thought you were good at Potions.”  

The blankness overcame her. Y/N, clearly at whom the question was directed, tried to contrive a blatant lie but failing more and more as the seconds elapsed. Panic-stricken, she looked at Pansy who was witnessing the entire fall with a pained expression.  

Shit.  

“I-- I have a problem with this n-new topic. Something connected with Pepperup Potion,” she finally spluttered out, after what felt like forever. Once more, she glanced at Pansy who gave her the thumbs-up (that crone!), but she made the point of averting Mattheo’s gaze. “But sure, if you don’t want t--”  

“No problem,” he broke off Y/N’s exhausted ramble. “Around 6-ish then?”  

“Actually,” said Pansy. “Me and Y/N are headed to the Hogsmeade at that time. Girly things, you know. Maybe you can meet up, afterward, like 7-ish?”

“Mhm, yeah, why not. As long as it’s okay with Y/N.” He shortly looked at her but she, mortified, merely responded with a nod of agreement.

“It’s settled then!” Pansy exclaimed a coda with a sort of exuberance which, apparently, nobody else shared. And Y/N couldn’t help but think how interesting her one-to-one with Mattheo is going to be.  

XOXOXOXXOXOXOXXOXO

Precisely two minutes before the appointed time, Y/N was at the foot of the library, taking in deep breaths.  

She didn’t know why she felt so overwrought. She thought she must be overreacting. It’s not like her and Mattheo hadn’t been alone with each other before.  

Rather, the opposite – they had been. Plenty of times.  

The worst part was, or the funniest -- Y/N wasn’t sure in which terms she should regard that case – she constantly kept recollecting the same printed image of Mattheo from the morning. In his unbuttoned shirt, with that tousled hair which really gave him a look of a lead vocalist from the “Weird Sisters.” And the weirdest bit was that Y/N found that immensely attractive.  

Maybe there was something wrong with her? Maybe it was her hormones butting in, her pre-period thirst for what’s been chucked by the universe? And again, why would the universe be afflicting her?  

Deciding that she would probably not find any answers to those unabating thoughts, Y/N thought that there was no longer point of dangling in front of the entrance like some kind of mule. She pushed the door, treaded through a couple of book sections before finally localizing Mattheo with his usual cavalier aura. He was scribbling something rather intently on the piece of parchment in front of him, so much was he absorbed that he didn’t even flinch when Y/N strode over to the table.  

She cleared her throat, announcing her presence. “Hey.”  

He ultimately quirked up, and gosh was he so unbelievingly charming. Even after a day of meandering in the same clothes, he still made an impression of impeccable, and when his eyes met Y/N’s irresolute gaze, he smiled at her softly. Something flittered in Y/N’s stomach, and she only hoped that it was that sketchily-looking croissant that she had eaten.  

“Hey,” he spoke in a stoic manner, simultaneously gesturing at the chair next to him. “Take a seat.”

And so she did; from that distance she could smell the scent of his cologne – cedarwood mixed with an enticing trace of bourbon. Damn him.  

“Huh, so shall we start?” he asked as Y/N’s eyes were transfixed on his face. “Or will you just keep staring?”  

At once, Y/N tore her gaze away from his face, a blush blotching her cheeks; she felt positively mortified, warmth venturing from the chest to the nape of her neck. Well, it will take her some time to recover from that... “Yeah,” she laughed out, breathlessly. “Sorry.”  

He merely shook his head, then plucked the course book from his satchel, and dragged it between the two of them. Without further ado, he commenced explaining the topic to her (“Pepperup Potion is quite a facile topic” Yeah, no shit, Flamel) in his calming voice, tracing his finger over the ingredients and elucidating their cruciality in finalization of the potion.  

And while he was explaining all of that, composed and unbothered as if it were his daily lark, Y/N was on the other side of the spectrum – never had her body undergone something like that: her brain muddled, thoughts garbled, heart doing cartwheels whenever she looked up at Mattheo. She even noticed those little things about him, like the way his fingers smoothly flipped the pages, the way he pursed his lips whenever he was deeply immersed in his thoughts, or even that he had this sweet, little habit of raking his fingers through his hair.  

Y/N, at the same time, absolutely detested herself for having those thoughts – superficial, distractive, unnecessary, delusory, egregious, and...

She was staring again and, from the peripheries of his vision, Mattheo had noted that because he was eyeing her again in the matter of seconds, clearly saying something but Y/N couldn’t string those words together. Only after a couple of seconds did she parse what he had asked.  

“Yes, I’m fine...” she answered, swallowing the pit in her throat. Then, she inspected her watch – 7.47 -- and decided that it was a high time for them to bestir. “I’m just feeling... tired. Maybe we should get going, you know.”  

Mattheo eyed her for a few more jiffs before finally nodding. Y/N had a dim impression that something in terms of acrimony flashed across his face for a split moment, but that was quickly gone, and he was already shoving his belongings into the satchel.  

Once they were out in the corridor, Y/N started: “Thank you for your help, you know. That means a lot.” She thought it a good idea to pass over her gratitude by touching his shoulder but boy was she wrong. The reaction was immediate: Mattheo stiffened under her touch and, like a scalded cat, took a stride backward; his breath hitched and even in a dull lighting as it was, she could discern how his pupils dilated; he raked his hand over his hair like he had done before.  

Y/N froze, halting just as he had. Not sure what else to do, because she hadn’t done anything wrong really, she simply waited how this debacle was going to progress; she could have anticipated many things -- him throwing cusses at her, him laughing the entire situation off, even him casting curses at her. What she hadn’t expected, however, was Mattheo suddenly rushing in a different direction than the Common Room and leaving her lingering in the spot, not able to process rapidity of the shebang.  

Maybe she should have felt contrite at the moment, maybe she should have given up, and simply informed her friends that the plan clearly hadn’t worked out, and that Mattheo was a prick, leaving her hanging like some kind of scum in the middle of the corridor. But she would be lying to herself then and poorly attempting to talk herself into believing that she didn’t care.  

Yet she did, that’s why Y/N suddenly felt like the blood was curdling within her. Without administering that the words were spewing out of her mouth, she was already shouting after him:

“What’s your problem?” Mattheo stopped in his track, not turning around nor snorting at her, but simply standing still. He was waiting for her to continue. “Every time we are supposed to hang out with each other, every time I try to initiate the conversation with you, every time I smile and you ignore me, every time... I try so hard to be nice to you, try to act... civil, at least in front of our friends. But you always bring me down.” She didn’t even fathom how she had come up to him, but here she was – standing in front of Mattheo Riddle and cannoning the grudges that she had been keeping for years at him. It felt so... emancipating. “Even that one time when I cooked the brownies for Christmas, especially for you, and later you gave them away to Blaise. You know how humiliated I felt? That I spent time doing something for you, and you... so carelessly dismissed that? And, and... by the way, how much of the psychopath do you have to be as not to like brownies, on Merlin’s Beard!”  

Her voice sounded so reedy in her ears, but she knew that she was just poorly trying to outshout the quiver in her voice or the prickling tears in her eyes. When a tear tumbled down her cheek, not wanting to unveil any accompanying emotions, she angrily wiped it away with a sleeve. Her gaze travelled downwards because she felt more waterworks coming about.  

“I realize that you might hate me bu-”

“I don’t,” interjected Mattheo. For the first time, he shifted in his spot and when Y/N scrutinized his countenance, his lines had a note of desperation in them, earnestness that clearly stressed the truthfulness of his words. “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t have to lie, Mattheo, I-”

“I don’t hate you,” he retaliated, sounding stern. And angry, in a way? Y/N must have misheard.    

“Listen, Mattheo, I appreciate you trying to patch things up, but there’s no poin-”

But her sentence spiralled into the distant corners of the corridor, and Y/N piped down as Mattheo took a step closer, curtailing the distance between the two. Y/N cast her face downwards under Mattheo’s intense stare, but his hand travelled to her chin, forcing her to look at him once more. His thumb swiped over her cheek where the tear stain was, and it seemed like he was contemplating her dejection with a sour expression. For a moment, Y/N could swear that the air in her lungs disappeared altogether, and she just kept waiting for his next move, her eyes turned into the deer-in-the-headlights expression.  

With the intent look, he bent over her, Y/N’s nostrils catching the scent of his cologne yet again, and he was leaning over to her ear. One of his hands moved over to her arm, clutching it lightly as if she was the most exquisite dainty porcelain set, and his mouth was just centimetres away from her earlobe. Y/N’s body went entirely rigid.  

“I. Don’t. Hate. You,” he spelled out every syllable of his sentence, gravely, gutturally, slowly.  

Something clicked in Y/N. No longer was she standing there spellbound, but maybe because of his intoxicating scent, maybe because of the intensity with which he had uttered his words, she was tugging him by his collar with both of her hands. She normally, a brief thought crossed her mind, wouldn’t have enough nerve to do something like that, but she kissed him -- her desperate, parched mouth travelled onto his.  

For a moment, she asked herself if maybe she might be out of her mind for doing that or if Mattheo felt the same way she had this morning, or if he had ever considered her as more then... well, whatever they were. She soon found out the answer, however, because his lips momentarily detached themselves from her skin, and he was scanning her face with dilated pupils.  

Instantly, Y/N pulled away and put her hands on the level with her head in the defensive mode like a child who had been caught red-handed while sneaking out the chocolate bars. The air was sucked out of her.  

“I’m so, so sor-”  

“It’s not the way I envisaged that...” His voice sounded positively berserk, feral even. Her hands pending mid-air, Mattheo drew them back to their previous place. In the middle of that maelstrom, Mattheo capitalized Y/N’s confusion by placing his hands on her lower back, flipped her so that now her body was positioned against the wall, moulded against him.  

“And how have you envisaged that, exactly?” she muttered, her voice barely audible. She blinked a couple of times, disorientated, observing as a smirk curved on Mattheo’s lips.  

“Let me show you how...”  

His lips smashed against hers, and Y/N was happy to note that her feelings were requited after all. At first it started off gentle, but that quickly morphed into this voracious battle for dominance. They were devouring into each other's taste (Mattheo’s peppermint toothpaste), and he slid his tongue over her bottom lip, silently soliciting her for deepening the kiss.

She permitted, of course she did, parting her lips ever so widely, deliberating that if she ever were to die, that’s probably the only way she would have accepted the Grim Reaper in her warm, hospitable embrace. Much to her surprise, Mattheo took her by both of her wrists, pinned them above her head while his other hand was caressing the skin underneath her shirt.  

His kisses were so fierce and zealous, Y/N couldn’t help it but feel the sudden yearning to be as close to him as possible; she draped one of her legs around his lower waist, aligning his body with hers as if they were the unity. It felt like they belonged together the whole life, just like yin and yang, and it was so ludicrous that they hadn’t realized that before.  

His tongue flicked over her lips a couple more times, making the want pool around her abdomen, before he finally dipped lower and lower, reaching her neck and planting the sloppy kisses on it. It was as if though he couldn’t get enough of her taste, so ardent in his actions he was, and when he finally discovered the weak spot on her neck, he started sucking on it ever so roughly. Not quite able to quell it, she let out a small moan which apparently must have worked marvels on Mattheo because Y/N could suddenly sense the bulge of erection ramming against her thigh.  

She was torn. From one side, she wanted to do this so badly, the knot in her lower parts specifically betrayed that, but she knew that it would be so wrong and thorny if they elevated that to another level.  

Yet, it was so hard to focus with Mattheo’s lips leeched to her neck, signaturing her skin in the most conspicuous way.  

“Don’t... you think... that we sho...uld talk this over... first?” Y/N rasped out with an evident difficulty.  

“What’s there to talk about?” he muttered in between the kisses, his hand still circling on Y/N’s belly and dangerously nearing to her bra. “I’ve wanted this since forever. And clearly, so did you.”  

Y/N released an amused, hoarse chuckle but that silenced her only for a few seconds before she finally deciphered his words. Particularly, the one resonated in her mind: forever. A paroxysm of joy sprung up in her.  

“So, you felt like that for a long time?”  

Mattheo, apparently cognizing that Y/N wasn’t going to relinquish the topic easily, halted. He withdrew both of his hands, instead placing them on each side of the wall where Y/N was residing. His chest was still moving rapidly, hair rumpled, and pupils almost entirely replacing the irises of his eyes. As Y/N examined him briefly, she thought she must be out of her mind for ceasing their make-out in the first place.  

Too late for reversion, anyways.  

After a few inhales, he finally started: “Well, haven’t you noticed? This entire time, that I-” With a small gloss of hesitation, he looked her in the eyes, assiduously. “I have been crazy about you. For so long. I don’t even remember how it feels to be sane, because whenever I’m around you I just... want to grab you and kiss you senseless.”  

Y/N balked. Things got another notch inexplicable, and Y/N wasn’t sure anymore if she was dreaming and perhaps was stuck in a different universe where cats were the heads of the Ministry, Pansy was Gryffindor, and Mattheo was besotted with her. That would be more possible, from all Y/N could think of.  

“Really?” A blush suffused her cheeks. “I thought you hated me! All those signs – always avoiding me, never talking to me... This didn’t necessarily appear to me as... what you just said.”  

“Listen.” His palm covered hers and he squeezed it lightly a couple of times. “All of that was just a game. I didn’t want to weird you out nor did I know if you reciprocated my feelings. That’s why I tried to... avoid you, if you will.” He stopped for a moment, just staring Y/N, enchanted, as if there was nothing else in the world, both of them captured in slow-motion where nothing else around them mattered. The silence between them was only raptured by their quick breathing and the hammering in their chests. “In truth, the way you... move and talk, it’s all driving me mad. Fuck! I want to be with you, be able to kiss you whenever I desire, want to touch you and be there for you whenever you feel down... Y/N, I want to do so many things with you, and you don’t even know that. But how could you, right?”  

As if pained, he closed his eyes with a microscopic grimace and he licked his lips, as if reminiscing the tastes of her on his skin. With guilt flaring up, Y/N cupped his cheek in her palm and stroked over it again and again. He seemed to be enjoying that as he leaned into her touch, his frayed nerves somewhat tranquilized.  

“You know, I like you too,” Y/N said, and before Mattheo was able to protest as he opened his mouth with the clear intention of doing so, Y/N proceeded: “I really do! It was just that... I was trying to tell myself otherwise because I wasn’t sure of how you would react. And when you waltzed into the Great Hall today, looking like that, I realized that... I’ve been lying to myself. And- and are you mad?”  

He furrowed. “Mad? What for?”  

“For screaming at you earlier.” Y/N pursed her lips.  

Gently smiling, he smooched her lips shortly, and Y/N fleetingly missed the heat of his body on hers. “No, I was a dick.” Another smooch. “Although, I would specifically like to highlight that I didn’t give these cookies away to Blaise. He stole them.”  

With poorly faked disapprobation, she shook her head but soon enough, a grin adorned her features. “That shithead.”  

Mattheo chuckled and he was about to kiss Y/N again when...  

“There you two are, I was looking all over for you two and--” Pansy prowled from around the corner, clearly with annoyance painted on her face but when she discerned the view right in front of her, with Y/N positioned against Mattheo, she smirked. “Well, well... Y/N, I told you to sneak him into the Common Room, not to woo him.” Y/N palm-faced herself but Pansy, not taking on the social hints, continued: “But have it your way, I guess...”

“Pansy, I think we would like to be left alone for now and if you could-”  

“No,” Pansy interposed, folding her arms together. “It’s your birthday party, Mattheo! It was supposed to be a surprise, but someone...” She leered at Y/N with a pointed look. “...clearly can’t control themselves and restrain her animalistic instincts, irrespective of the plan that her other friends set up.”

“In her defence--”  

“And I’m not going to be a shitty friend who forgets about her best friend’s birthday! So, collect yourself a little and schedule bumping uglies on a different time.” With that, the pitter-patter of her stilettos faded away, while both Mattheo and Y/N stood stunned in their spot.  

“That’s not how I planned it,” Y/N explained quickly. “Especially the “bumping uglies” part.”  

Mattheo chuckled with hilarity sparkling in his eyes. “I know.”

“And I’m sorry about your birthday, we were supposed to act like we have forgo-”  

“Doesn’t matter.” Mattheo smiled finally at her, covering her mouth with his. “It’s still the best birthday I have ever had.”  

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

58 - One Whirlwind to the Next

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

Length: 20.2k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, mental duress, references to cheating/infidelity, past rape and sexual assault, self harming behavior, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v

Notes: Good news the smut drought is over, finally. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

Steady footstep were all which were heard for sometime. The walls around dark as the gentle whistling of wind through the stone walls the only accompanying sound. At least aside from the crackling of fire. One figure against the torch flames stationary along the path. Still so late, or perhaps early being the word more appropriate. Awake for now the betterment of nearing two hours and still your brain went in too many directions to settle.

Having walked Sansa back to her chambers, you found yourself standing alone in the corridor. Hands together as your fingertips toyed with one another trying to consider it all. Eyes wide as you glanced down, you considered someone else you had yet to see upon your return. One which you had only been told about when asking your mother in a moment alone the afternoon previous. It was smart, her idea.

Quick and clever knowing that with who was here, there were few which should never have their paths crossed from what was known. Few knew, but she had moved quickly considering that it was impossible to know what the man would do should he find him so directly. Hidden away, no doubt much to his dismay and you considered that in the early hours you could make your way and few would make notice of it.

A stretch of rooms within the castle that were seldom used but doors locked when not used, none would consider it odd. Arrangements had been made to handle the small details of being in the room for some length of time, but still captivity would it feel like. He may or may not be happy to see you, knowing you were not there to simply tell him he could be free to walk about but this was more important then appeasing someone’s wishes.

Only to make your presence known did you knock gentle on the door, “It’s me.” Slipping in only enough as you unlocked it, did he switch from what looked apprehensive and defensive to a sudden slouch in his shoulders. Moving to where he had gotten up from his bed, sitting horizontal across the way with his back against the wall as you approached.

Looking down to him, it was so question he was playing a game of who would speak first. His expression flat and agitated behind it’s tensity, you did not blame him but you tested the waters of his patience all the same. “Dare I ask how you are fairing?”

Gendry’s response, was precisely what you expected. Dripping in a dryness. “Great. Never better.”

Voice flat as you gently made your way to sit beside him, your feet barley reaching over the side as you let them outstretch, one ankle resting over the other, the lack of dryness by the skirt of your dress’s very edge showcasing how even in such hours you had been outside for some time before now. “You do understand you aren’t being kept here as a prisoner?”

The lack of inflection was indicative of both his irritated state and no doubt, his own amusement. “Of course not, I just can’t leave. Can’t go anywhere. Can’t do anything or interact with anyone except for the two people who bring me food. One of which is your mother. All the freedoms I could ask for.”

Hardly a sigh left you. “There is a difference between being held prisoner, and being hidden away for your own safety.” When he as dryly, asked what, you only raised an eyebrow glancing to him from the side. “Prisoners are revoked their freedom due to the unsafe nature of their presence within a place. You are being kept hidden away so that those same sorts of people, cannot get their hands on you for their own purposes.” His glance met yours as you waited for him to either grasp that or not.

“And Lord Baelish is one of those people?”

You did not hesitate, nor did your voice continue so passively. Dropping down to something much more serious as was the flashing glint behind your eyes. “The gold cloaks did not come looking for you on their own. Joffery had every bastard of Roberts hunted down and slaughtered in Kings Landing.” Only a twitch in his jaw showcased any reaction, not that you blamed him. You scarcely had known how to feel about such information when you learned it. “Who they were and where was not publicly common knowledge. They had to be told names and where to find them.” Gendry only asked if it was him who told Joffery. “He was one of them. He had spies everywhere. He was the reason Lord Stark and myself had found you in the first place. Someone who already knew told Lord Arryn, one of Petyr Baelish’s spies saw, and thus he later knew that you were there, and who you were.”

Shaking his head mostly to himself, you could still sympathize with such a struggle in his mind. The acceptance of being an unknown role in such a game you had no interest in. “What’s a man like him even going to do if he finds out?”

Perhaps that was the worst answer. That you did not quite know. What use he would be, was something only Littlefinger would understand and nor did you think it would be wise to attempt learning it. “For over five years men have been fighting over the Iron Throne. And killing those who get in their way. For all we know, you’re Robert Baratheon’s last living son. The Lannisters would love to see you dead, and Petyr Baelish would sell you to them, walk you himself to your death just for a single chance of gaining some form of power from it. And trust me, your death that time would come far quicker then the last time you were taken prisoner by a royal family.”

From your position, his head dropped as did the weight in his shoulders. Voice it was evident, that was lightened a bit too from the breathlessness of the words. “So, they want to kill me for something I didn’t even know I had something to do with until two years ago.” Answering much more in his fashion, a single word of agreement. His hands wrung together as his forearms hung over his bent knees, your own fingertips begging to dig into the others skin from behind your gloves. “We’re not really people to you, are we? Just a million different ways to get what you want.”

You took no offence personally, nor did you think he intended it towards you as such. Inhaling, your voice steady moreso then his, but not quite as affirmative as he may have needed. “Petyr Baelish doesn’t see anyone as equal to him. Which means not you at the lowest, nor highborns such as myself are people. Not to him. No one here knows who you are. I am attempting to keep it that way, because I’d rather see you alive then in danger known out in the open.”

Sensing his gaze on you more questioningly, you allowed that silence between until he found the correct words in his mind to get it across out loud. “I’m starting to think maybe I should’ve kept my fake name. Make it less obvious I’m here, or that I have anything to do with whatever you highborns are always up to.”

The smirk was small, but it passed over your features. “If you don’t trust highborns, why did you reach out to me?”

On his own, a smirk identically matching fell over his expression. “Couldn’t tell you.” Your brows narrowed in question, but you needed not ask he elaborate. “I was alone, didn’t know where to go, and was too paranoid to stay in one place too long. Everything the way Arya talked about you, you didn’t sound like you were like your father, so I just did it. And spent months after feeling stupid for thinking you’d care.”

Both smirks grew as did your jest. “My apologies for showing up and ruining that neglectful image.”

The quiet was actually, for a while, quite comfortable. Neither needing to fill the air, content just in that night darkness without interruption needlessly. Though, questions no doubt rolled through his head as by the time either spoke again he had breached the subject most obvious between you. “So, what was it like? Out north of the Wall?”

A deep sigh left you, the feeling of uncertainty of much, or nearly all passing through. Neither you nor Jon had spoken much of it, but you did not need too. Speaking such things in a way that made sense, was another issue. Thus, a non answer was your choice of path. “It’s a long story.”

Dismissive as he was sarcastic, your eyes rolled over to his in a glare he knew you didn’t mean. “Best not then. I’m a bit busy.” Both your glare and his amusement held at a stand off until he found a better directional leading question. “Alright, I’ll start over. How are you?” The tone was immense to the degree one would need scale a mountain to see the tops of it’s reach in mocking.

You however, took the path least antagonizing thus far. “Well, I was thrown down a hill in an explosion, kidnapped, travelled in the middle of the night trying to fight for my life to return to Jon, jumped in a freezing river to escape being attacked by the dead, and to top all of that off, I gave birth a little over a week ago.” You could see the dramatic head turn as he asked in clarification that you gave birth. Staring forward towards the small candle lighting the other side of the room in the middle of a table, you felt your eyes blur unfocused. “And I don’t suppose saying I almost bled to death during it makes any of that sound much better, does it?”

Only you could hear the surprise if not confusion in his voice. “I’ve been alone in here a few days, but I haven’t gone mad enough to think you were gone that long.” Shaking your head no, did he lead himself to further conclusions. “Nine moons, meaning you were passed three when you went out there, how did you not know? You didn’t know, right?” Adding onto your silence and you dared not see his face.

“I was only two. I went into labour a full month early.” Asking if you meant out there and you nodded once more but slowly. “We both knew, Jon and I when we left. We had no choice.”

Returning to neither of you saying much, Gendry sighed deeply before finding his voice once more. “And no one else-” Only did you get as far as opening your mouth before closing it again but he caught it. “Who knew and let you go out there? Other then the bloody King in the North apparently.”

He had caught your attempt to speak and hesitation, but he also caught your dragging eyes to the side to glare at him before looking back to the candle at nothing. “Maester Wolkan knew, or, he figured it out. I’m not sure which. Arya knew.” Words were not needed, your smirk to his open mouthed near offence said it all on his end. “Don’t get mad at her, it wasn’t her secret to tell.”

Had Gendry not said it so quickly and so passingly, you might have had the time to feel your heart and stomach lurch forward. “You know you’re the only thing like a sister I’ve ever had, you don’t think knowing you walked up North to your death while pregnant isn’t something someone should’ve told me about?”

If not mercy for yourself but him, you pushed passed the wording as in the moment. “Have you told Arya who you are yet?” His silence once more, was something you read with ease as you tilted your head somewhat to the side as if to put emphasis on your point. “Then why would she know you’d want to know that?”

By the time you dragged your feet to the floor, some time and conversation passed which was much needed for your anxiously riddled mind. You looked back to him as you grasped the door handle. “Why haven’t you told her yet?” Clarifying at his narrowed brows to the question. “Arya. You mean a lot to her, and her you. Why not tell her the truth?”

Honesty was not what you were expecting in a raw fashion, but the manner which he dropped his head to his lap showed it all. “When we met, we thought the other were a couple of no one’s. Low life’s on the road to the Wall but we got along all the same. Then she told me who she was, and I can’t really tell even now if she regrets it.” You didn’t ask, but he still answered with a non meaning shrug of his shoulders. “Suddenly I was the no one and she was a highborn lady. I think part of her misses when neither of us had to worry about that stuff.”

You did not say anything further to ask his side, it was right out in the open. It was something you never had quite been able to understand, the life you had led but you could only say what you did, as someone who knew both parties. “You should trust her more.”

Gendrys brows narrowed, but you didn’t elaborate nor give him the chance to ask, before you left.

Of course as the sun begun to arise, the Stark in question made themselves known. As if there were one which being out so early had an advantage, it was certainly Arya. The degree to which all formality left as she finally spotted you since your arrival back was quite amusing to all who had a chance to notice it. Nearly knocking you over in a hug, forgetting clearly what she knew Jon had told her that you still had other injuries to recover from. The wince in your face as you hugged her followed by a breathless laughter had her come to her senses, backing up properly.

At that point, others doing the same was inevitable and thus your intent to start the day quietly was no longer an achievable goal. Trapped between one conversation and the next, you felt almost on the edge of lightheaded. Barley seeing her turn the corner did you see Maege in the distance, clearly debating with herself if interrupting to save you was better, or if watching you squirm for a little longer was more appealing. No amount of time had changed that she saw you as much a Queen, as she did a friend to endlessly find amusement in watching the suffering of.

Mostly Lords and Ladies whom you had known, jokes that the King in the North was hiding you away all to himself, after having you to himself for months. Only a tiny light within you was amused, the other majority begun to feel trapped. Suffocating as words and people stood all around you. The nerves mostly from so much talk and questions, you had a whirlwind getting through. Certainly in more then one way, but despite that, for once the sudden turns of formal greetings of “Your grace,” had ticked it in your mind that of gratitude.

Jon making his way to your side, pulling you more into him with an arm wrapping around your waist before leading you away saying you were needed elsewhere right now. Slipping it to your lower back he pushed you forward gently and had yet to move it by the time he could speak without listening ears. Muttering low but more rough then you expected so close to your ear as he leaned into you. “I was wondering where you ran off too.”

If he believed you, Jon did not make that known one way or another. “Woke up a bit early. I thought I’d stretch my legs a little, ran into Arya and that was that.” You did catch the deep chuckle, and the proceeding knowledge that he had yet to move far from you. “I was trying to make my way back, I know need to take- “

The hand on your back ran a bit higher up your spine, then back down and again. A repeating but almost soothing manner as was his voice, despite the roughness behind it. “Already brought him to Maester Wolkan, told him to start checking up on how the baby is doing while I came and found you.” Your eyes flickered somewhat to him, but not committing to the point you could properly see his face. “I told you, I’m making sure you’re alright too. You went through more then you should’ve had to out there.”

If Jon also saw the harsh swallow in your throat, he too, said nothing about it. Arguing to yourself, you were simply matching his low tone, and it was not in fact nerves which strained your own words coming out to the air. “He said I was fine when we first arrived. I’m sure I don’t need to take up his time-”

Cutting you off, Jon was not angry but there was a firmness in the manner which he spoke it. “Your well being isn’t a waste of time.” He hadn’t stopped you both walking, and thus the hesitation had to be in your words not your stance, thinking if you stop in place, did he’d merely tug you back along with him like you were a child. But when you protested that wasn’t what you said, he dug deeper. “It’s what you meant.”

You weren’t really sure what you were expected to say, it was true but Jon wasn’t supposed to pick up on it. The thought came before you could shove it ill from your stomach, that perhaps he only picked up on it, because he wasn’t actually at ease yet. If he just let you- if he had simply done it and let you get over any pain, he’d be more relaxed by now. But he wasn’t. Marred in a thick insecurity you were desperate to hide away, you attempted to steer him from the tense discussion brewing. “There isn’t much more he can do, then what you’re already telling me to do.”

Quick Jon was that morning it seemed. “Darling, if you were resting like you’re supposed to, you wouldn’t have run off in the night for nearly three hours and not come back.” Your heart skipped a beat, you had no idea he had actually noticed.

“Did the baby wake-”

Shutting down the out you were trying to serve him, Jon let the hand on your back drift back down to your waist before gripping a bit tighter, matching the edge in his words as well. “The baby was asleep the whole time. I know you left, because I sensed you weren’t beside me. I woke up and had no idea where you were.” Waiting but a moment passing to add, “You should’ve woken me up if you were having trouble sleeping.”

The flatness in you could’ve been mistaken for a time not anything was wrong around you both, the dry slight raise of your eyebrow towards him. “Waking up somebody else, because I cannot sleep does not seem reasonable.”

You truly had not at all seen coming what Jon had to say next. Your breath nearly ceasing to function temporarily as did your heart. “Neither is tricking me into making you do something against your will, because you think it’ll please me.”

Eyes tearing themselves up and to the side to look at Jon, but his eyes were not his voice. The greys wide and gentle as he only nodded for you to the door you had not realized you both had reached by that point. His lack of words after only made you feel on edge beyond what you had even previously understood what you felt. The anxieties rippling through your blood evident as you stepped into Wolkans study, almost catching the Maester off guard by your demeanour.

“Your Grace.” As if in a brief daze you hadn’t even registered he was speaking to you, and not Jon considering the later had only left the study to find you.

A tear came through that you were hoping the early hours of the morning still could cover up the feeling inside of you growing as deeply upset as it was dark and festering. “Is he alright?” Coming right up to where he had little Eddard laid out, limbs begun to wave and kick briefly as the baby happily reached out to you. The laugh leaving you was as breathless as before but much more genuine. “Now, now, behave for Maester Wolkan. He’s making sure you’re in proper form.”

A hand reaching to yours, only a finger he was barley able to hold onto, but it seemed enough to direct his focus to calm down as Wolkan begun to elaborate. The sudden feeling of Jons hand pressing against your back, followed by his warmth indicated he had no problem coming up close to you still. But for once, you had no idea in what context did his normally comforting touch meant this time.

“I can safely assure both of you that any immediate risk he could have found himself in has passed. By the new moon I expect he will be caught right up in the growth a normal infant his age should be.” Your eyes had yet to look away from the baby, whose eyes now swapped between all three adults hovering by him. “You two have done a fine job.”

If it was said or meant as a jest, you did not hear it nor take it that way as it left murmuring beside your ear from Jons lips. “She’s the one whose done all the work, believe me.”

He had taken you off guard earlier, and now it had been your turn for him. It came out short, and almost dismissively angry the way you hardly turned to look at him as it hissed out. “Jon.” You could only feel the frustration that he would so easily put the credit onto you, when for the first few hours of his life, all he had to protect him was Jon alone.

You saw neither of the mens reactions. Wolkan had taken a moment to clear his throat, you still oblivious to the tension you had put forth in the room. “Regardless, continue caring for him as you are, and we will soon scarcely be able to remember we were worried about him health at all.” Looking in a gesture to Jon towards the baby, “Would you be alright with him while we examine the Queen here?”

Just as Jon easily confirmed he would, you had looked up to Wolkan with a hesitation. “Is this really necessary-”

“Yes.”

Wolkan it seemed, took Jons answer as the correct one and gently guided you to a different side room, “Let’s start with the easy ones.” First your visible injuries, then the more subtle ones, and finishing off with the remainder as questions flew through you head. Jon had not invaded the space, you could somewhat see peeks of him holding the baby, talking quietly and sweetly at him like he was born for all of this.

Laying there, your mind hoping you’d be able to come up with something to defend yourself with against whatever it was you did last night to make him mad. When everything you did was for such an opposite reaction. By trying to please him, you somehow made him even more mad at you. But, did ever really doing things of your own idea make it any easier when it was Ramsay trying to teach you those lessons?

No, no it was not any better. The less you fought Ramsay back, the less violent his subsequent punishments would be. Perhaps you thought to yourself, you needed to actually remember that lesson for once. Listen to what Jon was mad about, agree and do whatever he wanted to salvage the problem and you could pretend for one more day that the darkness in your head wasn’t consuming you with what you struggled to see, were lies.

You had not a clue what it was Jon spoke to Wolkan about alone once it was all said and done, but only that you wait outside the room for him while he talked to the Maester in private. Hovering by the opposite wall, you seemed to rock little Eddard in your arm as if the motion would soothe your anxiety instead of calm his already comfortable state.

But when he emerged, he said nothing of what they spoke of, or of what he had said before you both walked inside. Leading you down the hall, he kept you close once more to his side. “You can say no, but I’d like for you to join me downstairs to eat this morning.” He breezed passed your pause, lips parted as if to say something unsure but nothing had come out. “Most of them have met the baby by now, and the rest know not to hound you like earlier.”

He wanted you with him to eat? Publicly? That dark fog told you that you did not understand it, and it was so painfully easy to listen to it. But you nodded your head, adjusting your hold on the baby as if to fidget. Your voice little more then a mutter for Jons ears only. “That depends, will eating upstairs stop you from watching my progress at meals more then Maege and my mother?” Jon hummed a laugh in your ear, so warm his breath against your skin as he said no. Your mutter that time a little more playfully dry. “Then downstairs it is, I suppose.”

Sometimes you truly felt so out of place. Coming into the main hall things set out, and it was almost strange. Seeing so many people around it naturally as if it were the busy mornings in Winterfell in such easy, innocent times. Faces were different and some were older and changed, but there was an energy around the table that at the very least, had settled in a little. Luckily, your morose attitude was briefly lifted almost soon as you walked in.

Arya near the edge of one side of the long table, Meera opposite her on the other and by the end where normally nothing stood, sat Bran. Glancing down to it, your smile went from non existent to something bright as you looked at him. “What’s this?”

A smile so boyish came over Brans face, one looking as if he had not worn it in too long. Gesturing down, “Do you like it?” Explaining as Jon guided you over, nudging you to one side where he’d sit beside you. “Maester Wolkan had it made, said he had known others who couldn’t walk anymore so he had the instructions all prepared.”

Still you felt Jons hand on your back as you slowly sat down, shifting the baby in your arms without moving to any food. Once Jon sat, he wasted not a moment doing it for both of you. Meera looked to Bran and then you, a brightness a little more returned to her own face thankfully. “It has wheels, so all he needs is someone to push. It’s a lot easier then having to pull him around everyday, all that weight.”

Bran instantly screwing his face up in protest, “I’m not that heavy-”

Meera didn’t hesitate to interrupt him saying he was. With Arya piping up and little hesitation to join their banter. “If you could stand on two feet, you’d be taller then both of us. You’re heavy.”

The three teenagers all seemed to get along in the days since you all had returned. It was some consolation, that through the horror, perhaps not all of a childhood was stolen just yet. As Jon murmured your name, as soon as your eyes met his grey ones he nodded to the food he put in front of you. Before you could say anything, Bran spoke up easily. “Do you want us to hold him for now? Give you a chance to eat properly?”

Arya jumped at the opportunity before you had really said yes. “I get him first, I’m the only one here who hasn’t met my nephew yet.” As a small laugh left you, a brighter smile watching from Jon grew more as he watched you ensure Arya was holding him properly. Looking down at him in her arms, he once more was calm as if all he needed was to be around Starks to be happy. Arya’s smile was as wide and childlike as you suspect she’d had since you were together in Kings Landing. “Look at you. I’m Jons sister, Arya. Don’t worry, I’m going to be your favourite.”

Bran argued he’s known him for the whole time he’s been born, starting a trading of jokes between the three of them. Your attention finally back down to the food Jon put in front of you. You had not said it, but you suspected he had chosen what to put on your plate specifically instead of letting you pick at whatever you’d find on occasion.

You hated that the thought came right to you the moment you took your first bite. That you weren’t getting any smaller eating like this. But, you said nothing. Not to yourself on the matter but also not to anyone out loud, no matter how often the present company directed the conversation into matters you could easily jump in on. You simply ate quietly, and let them all enjoy the morning.

For now, things were easy. People had to get settled in, and much had to be done to bring Jon up to speed and he had much work atop that to tackle before anyone did anything. Still to the people you and the baby had not been brought out from the main halls of the castle in any way, Jons insistence that you are properly healed first, despite you not really understanding why he cared about that.

None of your injuries would be visible to the people by now under your clothes. But why Jon cared, you didn’t grasp still. A lot you didn’t grasp, some days were foggier then others but Jon had not yet brought up what he had said in the corridor the other day. And you didn’t know if that meant he was still mad at you, despite you not really understanding what you did to make him mad in the first place.

The thing was, Jon knew you didn’t understand. For more then one reason. His discussion with Maester Wolkan had been quite eye opening, even on top of what Yara had described. Jon had first tried to talk around certain things, bringing up your general mood and your ability to bond with the baby. Luckily both coming to the conclusion that the later was not a problem, considering the manner which Wolkan had huffed out a laugh as Jon described, “She doesn’t even want the wet nurse anywhere near him.”

But he seemed to understand what Jon wasn’t saying. How the biggest sign Jon knew something was wrong was not one he was so easily comfortable with describing, as he dodged the leading questions to answer it in a different way. Being back in Winterfell was helping, being around people who could help you was aiding in your mood and day by day thus far you had looked with a little more life in your eyes but you still struggled to sleep, and you also still struggled with eating. Moreso then ever before.

Jon knew you understood you had to eat, because you were feeding the baby from your own breast. Your health was important to his health and development, but were if not for that Jon guessed you would hardly be ending the day with a full meal in you. If nothing else, Jon was grateful that when Wolkan asked if Jon ever feared you were unstable around the baby, it was a firm no, and Wolkan too, seemed relieved.

But then there was little left to say, other then what Jon hadn’t been comfortable yet bringing up. Thus, Wolkan took the plunge and asked the most direct leading question he could provide if not asking outright. “And how would you say she is, when with you? In your time alone together, does she seem to struggle then?”

Jaw clenched, he had crossed his arms over his chest as if containing the increase beating of his heart from bursting out with the same nerves. It also, simply hurt a significant amount to say out loud. “She’s the worst when she’s alone with me.” Wolkan nodded, but said nothing, only indicating he was listening intently for Jon to continue. Sighing deeply, Jon paced along the room suddenly unable to stand in one spot as he attempted to conjure up the correct way to phrase it. “She-”

Running a hand over his mouth, the awkward agitation was noticeable, Jon knew. Once more, Maester Wolkan prompted him without judgment. “A question a tad on the personal side, your Grace, but may I inquire as to if these issues are intimate in nature?” Jon hesitated, but nodded. Giving Wolkan the direction he needed to start putting the final idea together. “I would not ask for more information to put you at unease, but a bit more of a description of the behaviour you’ve noticed would go a long manner.”

Jon did not want to go into this, but in truth, it was the clearest indicator he had of a much bigger problem going on inside your head. How other men so easily went into detail about their escapades with women, Jon had no idea. But by the time he relayed what had occurred, there was no longer a point of hiding away his thoughts on the matter. “It felt like she wanted me to not give her a choice. Like she didn’t understand why I wouldn’t..” The lurch in his stomach felt sickening, but his voice was gruff pushing through it. “Why I wouldn’t force myself on her.”

Wolkan was rather silent, but Jon could see deep thought swirling behind his eyes. “Has she exhibited this sort of inclination before?”

Nodding, Jon returned to pacing as his eyes briefly closed as he shook his head almost to himself. “At the very start, but it was never this bad. For some reason she’s convinced if she’s not letting me just use her like a whore, then I’ll find someone else.” The idea was so vastly uncomfortable to him, that Jon had been shocked the feeling didn't bleed out into the room and reach you waiting for him in the hall out the door.

Taking a seat at his desk, he prompted Jon to follow suit. Taking a moment, as the man already begun to speak before Jon did, sitting across from him. “I suspect there are a few factors at play here. Though, I do not think I need elaborate much on one of the likely most difficult influences here.” If Jon wasn’t so on edge with worry, he’d feel that rage all over again. The man was dead so long there would be nothing let of him but bones and still he haunted over you like a phantom. But Wolkan wasn’t done. “I fear, Ramsay Bolton’s influence is being mixed abhorrently with a rather harmful mindset I have seen in countless new mothers. The fear that now their only use is to breed sons for their husbands, and thus he will move on to younger and prettier prospects to bed instead. Some women's fears come true, and I also would count on the fact that she likely has seen that occur more often then not. Leading her to believe she is foolish for thinking she would be the exception.”

Jon didn’t need the final conclusion spelled out for him, he got it perfectly fine. He scarcely felt his heart tear away at him quite that way. The wide, bright look in his eyes emphasized by the fact that the greys in them were painted over with something as devastated as he was lost. The realization that this sickness in your head had convinced you that all of the horrible things people taught you were true. That the only way you knew to make Jon happy, was to try and get him to treat you the way you knew Ramsay had enjoyed treating you.

But the thing was, you had not a clue what this had done on the opposite end. And he hated himself for not picking up on it that night. You were genuinely enjoying yourself enough that when you begun to lie and pretend, Jon was fooled. Were he to have not put his foot down, you’d have put yourself in pain just to let him fuck you, because you had begun thinking he’d find it elsewhere if you didn’t give yourself over to him for too long.

So instead, you promised him you wanted to take him in your mouth, and tricked him into forcing you past your limits that night and pretended you wanted it for his sake. You just did what you thought he wanted not to risk him being mad at you or tossing you aside.

You didn’t know it, but the reason the past days Jon had not let you come close to anything remotely sexual in nature, was partially for your well being, and another part because you hadn’t realized, you had essentially turned Jon into her. Into Ygritte.

Pushing yourself passed your limits, your needs, what you felt safe doing, just to please him as to not set off a worse or volatile reaction against you. She thought Jon was willing when he forced himself to do the same, and now you were doing it to Jon thinking he wanted things just as Ramsay had.

Truthfully, Jon had no idea how you hadn’t woken up these past nights at how tightly he held you after you fell asleep. Trying to almost convey to himself and you in your most vulnerable state, that you two were more then that, that he was there to protect you not use you. Wolkan had given him advice on what to do, but Jon had yet to tackle the what to say. He needed to address this to you directly, he couldn’t let this fester between any longer.

But by seeing yourself as little more then a pleasure toy for him, you had accidentally put Jon in the exact position he was scared he had done after your very first night together. That he had forced you with him thinking you wanted it when you didn’t. That time, he was mistaken about it. This time, he wasn’t, but you had tricked him into it thinking it would make him happy.

With everything Jon had piling up getting in the way of being able to just take care of you, he had not expected it.

Jon had only just been left alone one afternoon in the meeting hall. Back leaned up against the main table, his hand running over his face with a deep sigh from what felt like the fifth meeting he had that day alone. The room having just emptied out as he remained to collect his thoughts before simply jumping into another.

The sound from the other side of the room indicated the door had been opened, just as quiet footsteps filled the echo of the empty space. Whatever it was, Jon had waited for them to speak first but the voice had sounded distant even beyond the meters between each of them. As if they hadn’t known what to say, and it only came off as stilted. “When you left for the Nights Watch, I never quite thought this was how we’d all see you back here again.”

As it turned out, she looked as distant as she sounded. It appeared that the gap between them was as if Sansa stood alone by the door refusing to come closer. Her face even harder to read, two of his younger siblings had been so easy to reunite with. Yet the look on hers now was as if she did not know what sort of reunion she wanted to have either. “I didn’t know I was coming back.”

The silence was distinct, and Jon finally realized how Arya must have felt. In another life, they’d be happy to see each other again. But Jon only stood straighter without moving, as Sansa barley stepped further into the main hall closer to where he was. What was the use of pretending this was a reunion when they both knew thus far Jon had been the one she was avoiding the most. Inhaling almost in preparation for whatever this was going to be, Jon attempted to mend the bridge before they both acknowledged how broken it already was. “Sansa-”

She however, came with questions quicker then what she once used to speak up like. “How did they let you leave?” Her eyes barley shifted, nor did she move much. Frozen in place like a statue that Jon hardly recognized. Dressed in clothes and cloaks dark and almost as if wanting to appear intimidating as opposed to the naive girl she left home as.

“It’s complicated.” What could he even say to her? How he was elected Lord Commander, what came of it, going after you, death, returning to life and everything since then to now? That was not a story most knew even close to him but you in full. It was only a joke, something to ease the heavy tension between them but he suspected Sansa had not taken it well once he said it. “Harder to execute me for desertion now that I’m a King, probably.”

For only a moment did her eyes flicker to the side with something a little more tight and on the edge of frustrated, but had covered it up with a half baked smile when she looked back. He too, was not sure if it was meant as a joke what she said. “So you can get away with whatever you want?”

In truth, it was difficult to see the joke in there the way he could’ve easily detected it were that to come out of Arya’s mouth. “There’s a difference between a King and a tyrant, Sansa.”

A tilt of her head came as she once more, said it both passingly and yet with a weight he had no idea what the intention was behind the words. “Joffery was a King, and he always did whatever he wanted no matter what it was.”

Her face was still and yet slipped into something taken back as Jons expression turned to a much quicker offence as his tone dropped. Pushing from the table more a step towards her but she didn’t move or blink as he slightly rose his voice. “Do you think I’m Joffery?”

The lightness in her face was only meant for her, an amusement in her thoughts Jon was not privy too whatsoever, only adding to the tension. “No. You’re probably as far from Joffery then anyone I’ve ever met.” He’d say thank you, if he could yet figure out what this was. And her next question only served to add to that doubt.

“Will you start wearing a crown?” If his little sister was trying to come off as patronizing, it was working. Asking shortly why he’d do that, she almost gave what looked like a shrug. “I thought Kings wore crowns.”

If Jon took the time to consider the manner which she phrased that, he may decide he would not like what conclusion he came too, so he moved passed it with something hopefully a little less stilted. “Robb was King for longer then I’ve been, if he never wore a crown then I don’t see why I would.” Or maybe, Jon realized what should’ve been an easier subject if moving towards others in their family would’ve gone over better had it been anyone but Robb. As a look came over her eyes that seemed a but more unreadable and more on the edge of unpleasant then he’d expect from her and once more attempted a different direction, as your name came from his lips in a more fondly amused manner. “Not sure if she’d appreciate having to start wearing a crown anyways.”

There was where he spotted it. A little light in her eyes as he brought you up. Jon didn’t even know how much she’d remember just how attached to your side she was when she was a very young girl. Something warm came over him, the relief that even in such a small way, there was still somewhere in there, the sister Jon remembered. Instead of this near stranger he didn’t know how to talk to.

Looking away for a moment, Jon’s eyes drifted down enough to see as she wrung her hands together only as long as it took for her to return to the present with a much more reserved state again. “When did you two marry?” Answering two months before you got pregnant. Sansa thought for a long moment. “So you were King for months before you married. Why wait?”

His voice low and a bit rough, he dared not step on your toes from your own hurt prior. “I didn’t care about rushing into anything, we took our time.”

Now it felt as if she was digging at him for something he wasn’t quite catching, her tone a little more short as if pretending she wasn’t offended by something. “If she was Queen for years beforehand, what’s the point in waiting to marry her? Why not do it right away and seal that power for you then?”

No, he thought to himself. Don’t consider that she is implying what he seemed to suspect she was implying. Instead he took another step towards her with a much more stern tone that time. He didn’t even address the second part of her question. “She’d been through a lot. I wasn’t going to rush her into something just because I wanted it.”

Sansa was far to quick, and bordering too close on accusatory. “So you wanted to marry her in general.” It wasn’t even a question, nothing curious was there except for an agenda he did not appreciate. Only affirming that of course he did, but Sansa did not seem to find that answer either convincing or satisfactory. Her tone that like a question but dripping with a lecture. “Isn’t it standard practice historically, that a King and Queen marry and have a child right away to ensure the King’s blood line with an heir?”

It was, but not this time. Jons silence was as difficult for her to read as her doubt for him. There was something she was not saying that was being attempted to dig into, but Jon was not in the mood to handle it here and now. “We had a child together because we wanted to.”

“So she wanted to get pregnant?”

The last person he wanted to feel this rising anger towards was his little sister, but Sansa had not a clue what a line she was trying to cross here. Not with you, not now of all times. His voice was noticeably rougher then it was before and both were beginning to realize he was not hiding that rising anger. “I thought you said I wasn’t Joffery.”

Oh the swiftness of what she said only made Jon that much more tense. “You aren’t. I wasn’t here, I’m only asking questions. The last time I saw you, you left to join the Nights Watch and she was married to Robb.” Jon let her deal with the quiet air, he had nothing to say to that or whatever which was hidden in something like that. Or whomever those thoughts actually came from. “You named him after father.”

A hint of a smile appeared in his eyes. “I did.”

If for just a moment, did finally a crack appear as something soft came over her too. “I- could I see him?”

That he would never deny. No matter what he and her had to sort out, little Eddard was her nephew. The last thing he’d want was to deny any of his family from being in his sons life. Nodding as your name was voiced out Jon explained, “She’s in my chambers with him resting right now, but anytime this evening. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you no matter what.”

There it was, the bright shine ever so briefly of a what was once just a little girl who looked to you like the big sister she’d always wanted. Nodding, she opened her mouth only to close it as she looked down in thought, coming back to say something now she knew was out of left field. “You didn’t take the Lord’s chambers for yourself?”

Raising an eyebrow, Jon didn’t quite see any thought process behind that. “No. It didn’t even occur to me. I don’t need a fancy room just because I’m King, that wasn’t why I took back Winterfell.” No, he had done it so what remained of his family could have a home again, but he did not know why Sansa still did not seem to grasp that included her. “If you want it, you should take it.”

Jon had a feeling he’d have to have a word with Arya about Sansa taking it, knowing letting her have their fathers chambers would be a bit of a contentious choice, but he’d have given it to Arya if she said she had wanted it first. That and he was sure that Bran still quite liked his chambers, alone up at the top of the stairs. She didn’t quite say anything further, but she nodded and begun to leave the way she came.

Calling out to her once more, something much more full and genuine came through the quieter tone which followed. “Sansa, I’m happy you came home. We’re family, all of us. We need to stick together. Protect each other. Now more then ever.”

What she’d take from that, was up to her. But once more she nodded before Jon was alone in the hall again. A pressing question remained however, how much of what she had said was of her own conclusions and how much had been the words of Littlefinger in her ear for years now? Whatever he promised her had led her to return home strained towards Jon more then she’d ever been.

The fact that Jon couldn’t even be the one bringing up Robb to her, stung something inside him. The last thing he wanted was for his brothers memory to be something tainted to her because of what Littlefinger had said and done.

Which was something Littlefinger was rather good at that. Slinking between one to another with the hopes he could wound himself around their heads until they were twisted to his will one way or another. The Starks were a target he had been looking towards a very long time. Since the day you suspected, it was arranged that a young and beautiful Catelyn Tully was to be wed to Brandon Stark. It had begun then and never ceased, only he sought to drag those around each wolf he encountered with him.

Never had he failed to make his attempts to each new wolf within his passing. You had scarcely emerged to the world since arriving back in Winterfell, and you expected that the image painted for him was that you were too weak, too ill to know of his presence, if only not caring. For a man with so many eyes around the realm watching for him, he did not quite realize the blatant ones both right in front of him, nor boring into his back.

“I’ve heard much about you, more then you might think.” The knowing in his voice always dripping in something condescending. He had approached him while he was alone, taking advantage of the quiet he sat in to spin his tales and lies.

Bran however, was not the foolish boy Petyr Baelish likely thought he must be. Even though as his brows narrowed in a doubtful confusion, you read it perfectly fine. “Strange, I haven’t heard anything about you.”

You could hear the smile on his face. “Not so strange. I am a man of business, not adventure like yourself.” Repeating the word adventure in a question, Littlefinger came forward more with a hand outstretched in question asking for permission to sit. Doing so as he continued, now sitting across the table Bran had been working away at. “I imagine you have many adventures, my lord. For years the realm thought you were dead. Being on the run in such trying times in your condition must be a fascinating sort of challenge.”

Bran however, did not take it the same way he had as a boy of ten insecure and heartbroken by his new change in life. “If by condition you mean I’ve lost the use of my legs, then yes. But we ran away all the same, just slower.”

For a moment, you nearly invaded your own plan. The moment Littlefinger spoke you felt something in your heart you were certain little Eddard could feel through the soft layers between you as he stayed held against your front. “You fled the Greyjoys with your younger brother. Rickon, was it?”

The image still was something you felt ill recalling. The utter horror of watching how close Jon had gotten, how he could almost reach out to grab his hand and pull him up to safety before Ramsay stopped toying with them both. An arrow slamming right into him from behind as he collapsed on the spot in front of Jons horse. The way in which Jon was frozen for a moment before you had felt that call to command knowing Jon was going to need men at arms beside him faster then they could run to him first.

The way Benjen spoke about it, made it seem as if he knew the story. It only made sense, if he knew because of Bran, since Bran it seemed was the one who knew about Euron. Jon wouldn’t let you wander outside in the cold until you were considered in full health by Maester Wolkan, but you knew the moment you could, you will learn a lot of why he knows these things.

But now, he did not play any role beside young, traumatized, angry teenage boy. “I did. But we got...separated.” The audacity of the man before him to say that at least his killer was brought to justice, and Bran felt the same as you. “Do you really think that the person who killed someone you love, being dead, makes that feel any better?”

“Not exactly, but vengeance is a powerful motivator.”

The air sat silent for nearly five painfully long seconds before Bran muttered out more roughly, “My brother is still dead, and so is the man who killed him. What vengeance?”

Littlefinger seemed to find something amusing, but you stood in silence doubting what it really was he picked up on. Bran asking him what, he seemed to silently agree. Littlefinger played the charm as much as he could, “It is merely interesting this is how we meet, considering where we started.” When Bran spoke none, he continued. “It is simply strange that I finally meet the boy I heard so much about, only after the ones who I heard of you through are gone. Life has unique ways of bringing people together.”

Looking him over closer, Bran narrowed his eyes but little more then a the sound of the very start of a word had been cut off. “Is that why you’re here, Lord Baelish? You simply enjoy bringing people together?” The man stood abruptly, a bow as if nothing was wrong.

“You’re grace.”

You didn’t blink, watching with sharp eyes tinged in a distinct lack of trust. “How about you walk with me, leave Brandon here to his work?” Looking to you now with Littlefinger’s back to him he gave a single nod, small and slow with eyes wider speaking of something the man between had no idea was being communicated.

The smile was fake, but he knew you didn’t buy it regardless. “I couldn’t very well refuse a royal escort.”

Raising your eyebrows, you merely stated rather flatly. “You could. But we both know you won’t.” That was far closer to the truth, you were certain a myriad of things were flowing through his mind as you motioned for him to follow you first. Looking behind, you knew he seemed surprised no guards had accompanied you, but certainly you thought, he knew better. Or he should know better. His threats were not such physical ones and you both were too aware.

Quickly eyes glanced down to the small bundle hidden away in your arms and you could practically write word for word what he could possibly say to start off as formally polite as he knew you didn’t care about. “A beautiful boy, your Grace.” Only a thank you dry and short, you walked slowly through the corridor down a stretch of hall you knew to have few currently around in, forcing him to keep up any conversation. “Have you revealed him to the court yet?” Once more, your answer was short, only the word no and the ensuing awkwardness forced him to be at the verbal disadvantage. “Any plans on doing so soon?”

“When the King decides it is appropriate.”

Stretching thin what small talk he could engage in before you left him with nothing but what you approached for initially, he once more filled the air with a tone akin to questioning as if unsure as to the purpose of your lack of reciprocation. “And how does the King in the North deem it appropriate when to reveal his newborn Prince to his people?”

He no doubt caught the small smirk adorning one side of your mouth for merely a moment. “I’m not sure, my lord. I am not the King, therefore I do not know what a Kings criteria for such an event would be. Why do you ask, plans on staying long enough to attend are you?”

Should you have looked his way, the curious gaze he had begun directing towards you would’ve elicited a much less subtle knowing smirk. He was not a clever as he once was, not here and now. “I aided the Lady Sansa in getting here safely, I felt it only fair to her that I stay here a while and ensure she settles in comfortably.”

Eyes looking nowhere but forward, your tone dry did you let it come into the world more mocking towards him then not. “This was her home for thirteen years. I presume she will settle in just fine without you.” Asking you if this was your way of suggesting he leave, you turned your head just enough to indicate a shift in your demeanour, as your tone dropped. “I am asking why you’re here, why you felt you had the right to come here after everything you’ve done.”

Littlefinger had always spoken to you a bit like you were a child, and now was no different. “We have had our disagreements, your Grace, but I’ve only ever done what the crown I serve bids me. I never set out to hurt your family, I assure you. As I did your husband the other day, though he seemed no more willing to trust in me then you are.”

Your hum was as close to a laugh as one could possibly create. “I cannot possibly imagine why that may be.” Whatever he said, you cut him off as you turned in place to look up at him. Eyes narrowed as the rest of your expression was tense matching the degree in your voice. “I don’t know if you think I am forgetful, Lord Baelish. Or foolish, even perhaps just an idiot. Tell me, in which possible world is there a chance I put even an ounce of trust within you after you broke the last one.”

Neither of you said or asked for details, he would not want you to elaborate as much as you would gladly. “In matters of life and loyalty, your Grace, I simply chose the path which allowed me to keep my head.”

But the way neither of you said it, neither of you also said whom you had referred to. “Yes, you did. Just as you watched Joffery take Lord Starks for a crime we both know he did not commit.”

That smile, truly you hated it from the first moment you met this wretched man. “My trust was not going to be enough to spare you nor Ned Stark’s life, but it has spared his daughters. Sansa would have been tried for murder had I not gotten her out of the capitol.”

Not seconds had passed when you said it, but the process which got you there was not as quick or simple. It was a difficult place. Cersei no doubt would have executed her for murder, thus she was not safe in Kings Landing. So indeed, he had saved her life, but then hid her away for years under his sole protection when you knew too well what those results could create. “And for that you have my gratitude. Truly, Jon and I both. But one good deed does not wash out the bad. Nor a bad, the good.”

Glimmering a flash in his own eyes, there it sat. His words were drenched in an irony which his eyes gave the secret away. “Surrounded by Starks, one could forgive not remembering right away that you are no doubt, Stannis Baratheon’s daughter.”

Does that alarm you, Lord Baelish? Does that remind you that you are not safe and protected by your spies and power and brothels of Kings Landing? He was a mockingbird, and you a nonthreatening doe, but he had walked into the den of wolves. He lacked every understanding that he was not safe here, but his greed and lust for power blinded him.

But, still, you dangled him over an edge he was not yet made aware of. Let him think he still had a modicum of control. “And yet you watched the Starks father lose his head in Kings Landing. I thank you for delivering Sansa home safe, and for arranging the bones of Ned Stark to be returned here as well. But that does not make you a guest here, it does not make you welcome.”

Were your son not with you, you may have had a very different reaction. “Here I thought certain tragedies would have made yourself more sensitive to honouring guest rights.”

The world grew dark as a lightheaded feeling kicked in, your heart screaming at you in a pain you refused to recall on top of the rest haunting you of now. If Littlefinger was not the smartest man here, the tightness in your airless lungs told a story that he was still certainly one of the cruellest. He had never even met Robb. He had no right.

Your slow shift to an upset shock said plenty it seemed, a bow as he looked towards the door to the courtyard you led him to. “Your Grace.” And out he went back to whatever hole he had crawled up from this time. Looking down to your son, you felt a breath finding its way inside. Lungs inflating once more as his large, bright eyes shined up at you now that he had awoken. One hand moved, running over the top of his head, distracting yourself you wished, with the thought of when his hair no doubt was to grow identical to Jons black, thick curls.

The man was here and you all had to deal with it, but he had no right digging up the remains of a love you were taken from. Not when you were terrified that you were soon to watch the one intense and present before you, break apart on it’s very own.

Failing Robb and driving away Jon. It felt as if Littlefinger knew right where to twist a knife to attack the agony in both. One already lost and the other crumbling before you from your own worthlessness.

But you had known you were to protect the Starks from him. But you were not a Stark in any manner of real. Your well being in protecting them against him, was not to be taken into consideration. You would protect the girls, Bran, Jon and your son, but you stood alone. Looking down to the precious bundle so new to the world, and hoped whatever cost you were paying to do so was worth it in their eyes.

Littlefinger mentioned the past of Robb once, and you stood there, feeling yourself spiral so fast from it, even the present was not safe from your destruction. But you couldn’t focus on that. Not tonight at least.

You had to pull yourself together before the moon fell over the sky.

It was a strange moment of something feeling of so genuine and true as you both sat by the edge of the bed. The baby finally sleeping soundly after another new face to meet, leaving you to look over what it was Sansa had brought. She had gone over the details of all them, and thus far each and every small article of clothing had something unique to it. “I can always make more when he starts growing, he’ll still be small for a while so it’ll be easy.”

Looking at them one by one, it was clear she had put time and care into it. Had made clothes herself for her new nephew despite such a difficult place she stood within her home as. But there was something so much more natural in her ways as she merely sat with you explaining each one with a pride and an excitement you’d last seen before she first left these walls.

For the third eldest of her family, she was so far the most nervous to hold him. Hardly moved as she never risked carrying him in a careless way. But she took to him well, spoke gentle with almost a teasing laugh on her tongue as he got used to her, and by the time his eyes were in need of proper sleep, helped ease him down into his new bed before you secured him for the night. For a little while, she was just a girl in your presence, nothing more or less complicated.

“Don’t feel obligated too. The way my mother has spoken, it sounds like there is a fair plenty of people all around who have things they’d like to gift.” Your own wider look of exasperation made her laugh lightly, if not just at you alone, which you could accept. Asking gently when she had begun staying here, you knew it was merely an attempt to pry for information in curiosity, but that perhaps she struggled to come off as such anymore. “A little while before we left for Dragonstone. I’m the only daughter she has left, and we never had a strong relationship before. She decided she wanted to start trying to mend that now.”

Commenting that she seemed much like you, you only rose your eyebrows for a moment in dramatic fashion. “You must not have met most of my fathers side of the my family. In comparison to them, I have nearly nothing in common with my mother. Or my father in some respects.”

You felt her watching you, but allowed any questions to form at her own pace. “You had been out there the entire time you were pregnant?” A slow, single nod was all which you gave, making her face scrunch up in something unpleasant for a moment. The disapproval now much more distinct as she spoke. “I don’t understand, how could he bring you out there for so long if you were pregnant? Anything could have happened to you.”

Eyes softening a little, your head tilted as you met hers. “We both did what we had to do. Jon of all people didn’t want me out there, but there was no choice.” A feeling brewing within told you that there was something she was not saying, nor did you quite catch it when she asked you something strange and yet out of nowhere.

“How quickly did Jon want to marry you?” Your head jolted back, something blatantly confused washing over it. “From what you told me, everything around here happened so fast. I’m assuming when he became King, marrying a highborn wasn’t a big problem. Did he want to right away and everything else just got in the way of it happening?”

You honestly had not a clue where that came from, nor what she was even implying. Truth be told, you had not picked up there was anything to be implied quite then. If you looked back far enough though, not much time had truly passed when the subject was first broached even in teasing terms.

The night before the battle against Ramsay’s forces, Jon had found himself standing behind you, a hand covering your scar over your clothes asking for the first time about the son you lost. The manner the more you spoke, the easier it became. And how when you had amusingly eluded to the fact that Robb had suggested naming your second son together after Jon, he had turned you to face him. Crowding you with bright teasing eyes and a confidence you hadn’t seen on him in such a way ever before.

“Well, when we get to our second boy, we’re sure as hell not naming him Jon.”

You knew had you found yourself with child from the throes of a desperate passion the night you brought him back, what he would have done. Based on timing alone, likely you’d have been on Bear Island by the time you would find out, and you knew Jon would have organized it then and there. Bring you to the heart tree on the island and marry you then, ensure his child never had the risk of life he had grown up enduring.

If you asked her, Maege no doubt would say she wished it had worked out that way. From what you had met of her other daughters, Alysane in particular would likely have given you grief in teasing for worrying about that sort of thing at all. Maege had five daughters all recognized from birth as Mormonts, and she had never been married. Alysane had two currently, and she too had never been married.

When you married Robb, it was not what either of you had expected but you both did not shy away from embracing it. Despite being forced to set your unspoken love for Jon aside, you had known Robb was the future given to you and everything between you both after was easy. One night together and it took months for you to get back to him, and it was as if you two had been married and together that entire time you were in Kings Landing.

The very moment you had become his wife, everything else just became normal. But with Jon, it was different. As your time together had been in secret, to all others it looked as if Jon had never had any kind of a romantic relationship with a girl, nor expressed interest in one. Joining the Nights Watch it appeared as if he simply did not care about that sort of thing but you knew better. He had never said your arranged marriage to Robb was part of that choice, but it was.

He’d likely been thinking about it for some time, and then you had simply been his final push. And now that the world had not protested you both being together in both your new lives, you knew marriage was still not as easy for him. In truth the fact that he had wanted to bed you outside of marrying you at all was still surprising. Only in the freedom of marriage had Jon been truly comfortable being physical with you.

Yes he wanted to marry you because you both truly loved one another, but you also knew marrying you was his only true way of being able to have you. To him, if he married you, he could just have you the way he wanted without fear. So in a way, yes. He did want to marry you right away and everything else did get in the way, but you did not know how much of such a complicated plight Sansa could understand.

As gentle as you could put it, you met her gaze with an ask akin to patience as you were clear with your manner of speaking. “It wasn’t a rash decision in the heat of the moment. He considered a lot of things beforehand, but yes, wars and battles do tend to get in the way of such things.”

But there still was something in the way she looked at you that you could not decipher. Nor did you immediately grasp the meaning of why she would ask you what she did. “Do you love him?”

Lips parted in question, but the door opened to the room and her narrow eyed demeanour stiffened up as much as the honesty in her expression had closed off. Turning in place though you could see Jon had matched her in just as much a purposely closed off manner. “Sansa.”

Almost a question in his tone, but she instead looked to you as you stood as well. “I should go, I didn’t mean to stay so long or interrupt.” Assuring her it was all perfectly fine, she glanced down to the clothes she had brought with a more bright look once again. “When he outgrows those, probably rather quickly, I’d love to make more.”

Nodding with a softer smile, she hesitated to do anything else. Before glancing between you and Jon. A more stiff goodnight she gave before exiting the room without further delay. Jon had turned to watch with a narrowed expression as you gathered the clothes she brought to set them aside. “She wanted to bring the baby some clothes she made for him.”

Coming closer to you, the moment Jons hands went to the belt around his waist you met him in the middle. Your hands almost moving quicker, and more efficient then doing it himself. His voice a murmuring rasp watching you turn from him to properly put the weapons on him away though you weren’t quite expecting the question attached. “Did you see Maester Wolkan this morning?”

Returning to him, you undid everything of his warmer outer layers with something more picking up in your heart. He hadn’t broached the subject since what he said the other day, and so this time you knew you needed to ease into it far more subtle then last time. “I did. He wanted to see how I was healing.” More of a concern on his voice asking what he told you and only as you worked more behind him presently could you see his shoulders deflate from their tension. “He said that everything has healed almost entirely, save for some of the marks.” Inhaling silently, you refused to put emphasis on the subject as you said it. “He also said that since I no longer have any pain, I would be safe to engage in more physical activities once more.”

He hadn’t quite stiffened up, but you felt his breath hitch a little once you got him in his soft single layers, even moreso when you ran your hands up over his shoulders behind him, the massaging motion also digging into the muscle there as his head almost dropped. Murmuring your name, you merely muttered back in a tender manner. “I don’t want to talk about that, not now while I had a bath drawn up for you. The water too as scolding hot as you like it.”

Chuckling deep, he rasped in just as much amusement, “Would it be unfair then to ask you to join me?” Your smile was not forced as neither your words were too, answering that you would love too. Turning in spot, Jon grasped your hips suddenly as he looked down at you, lips parted wanting to speak before changing his mind with a deeper sigh in his chest. Instead, his hands moved up to your shoulders, toying with the fabric there. “Can I take all of this off you?”

Jon spared no time when you nodded. Draping the material down your arms before undoing the belt holding it to your front. Pooling to your waist and down to the floor with nothing to hold it up. Grey eyes darkening as his jaw clenched looking you over. “Jon?”

Not realizing he was silent for far longer then he realized, his eyes burning into your now bare frame he muttered out with something heavy behind it. “I know these dresses are to make feeding the baby easier, but I didn’t think it meant you wore so little under it all.” Asking hesitantly if that was alright, Jons eyes closed, leaning forward to press his forehead to yours, he nodded against it before finding his voice again as he suddenly turned you in his arms. “Come on.”

Stepping from the pile of your dress on the floor, you were bare as Jon still clothed, led you into the room. The steaming water begging for him to be in it when he turned you back around to face him. No words needed, you knew the routine still. Placing what was left of his clothes carefully to the side before letting his curls down and loose for the night.

Moving passed, Jons hand drifted along your hip before pulling you to the side with him, but Jon climbed in first. Settling his back to the edge as he grabbed your hand, guiding you carefully with his other at your waist. Silently insisting you turn to face him, moving you himself to sit comfortably in his lap as your hands found home resting on his shoulders. Under the water, one of his hands ran along your hip while he other drifted from the depths. Running along to cup your cheek and pull you just a tad closer to his face.

Always needing to adjust to the hot water his preferred, once your lungs could breathe again did you sit up straighter. Reaching for the cloth hanging by the edge only to be stopped by Jon snatching your hand. “Leave it for now.” Brows narrowing mostly in question, Jon did not spare any second longer jumping into what was on his mind. “When I tell you I love you, do you believe me?”

Eyes widened, you barley breathed out a “Pardon?”

Jon did not waver, but he did not look angry or anything close of. Almost with his eyes bright and shining on their own as he repeated with something so soothing. “This isn’t a trick. I need you to tell me the truth, when I tell you I love you, I need to know if you believe I’m being honest.” Only confused and taken back you muttered that of course you did. “I don’t know. If I said it to you right now, would you be able to even hide that worried look on your face you’ve worn for days?”

Heart lurching in your chest, you felt as if you had been a child caught in trouble. “Jon... I don’t..what are you..”

Leaning up, Jon let his hand on your cheek drift back to run through the long strands of your hair. Fingers raking through before settling to pull your head closer to his, nudging his nose against yours gently, keeping you right there. “I have one more question, and this time, I need you to answer yes or no. Am I right for saying you’ve spent the passed few days afraid that I’ve wanted to fuck other women?”

You said nothing, but Jon more firmly prompted that he expected a yes or no. You nodded, but he needed you to say it. You felt your heart and lungs floating with a sickening fear that you were about to be in even more trouble if you lied. “I have.” Asking why, you felt something as if illness come up but instead a cracking whisper of a truth you had tried to hide, only you didn’t expect the unpleasant warmth behind your face to sting your eyes as you said it. “Just because I’m your wife doesn’t mean you have to enjoy me being in your bed.” Jon didn’t say a word, and something stinging you more begun to ramble as if needing to explain yourself. “I gave birth, I don’t look good, I’ve been all over the place, and since we married this had been the longest you haven’t been able to do what you want. Of course I think it would be reasonable you find it somewhere else. Someone better.”

Jons jaw was clenched hard, but he managed to grit out “Why in seven hells would I want someone that isn’t you?” Asking almost confused if he heard what you had just said, Jon pulled you back gently by your hair to make you meet his eyes, now dark and difficult to read. “I did, and there wasn’t a single thing you got right. So I’ll ask you again. Why do you think I’d ever want someone other then you?”

The hands on his shoulders, dug your nails in but had the distinct movement or increase of fidgeting as the nerves ran through you as the stinging in your eyes increased. Shrugging a shoulder, his grip on your hip was tight to keep you straddling his lap in the hot water. “I look worse then I ever have, you couldn’t have sex like you wanted, and even if you did we both know I’m not good at it. I don’t really understand why you would think I would want you to only be with me and be miserable.”

If you could have felt the shattering in Jons heart, it may have also done the same to you. And if you could have been able to feel the few tears already escaping down your cheeks you would’ve understood why he looked at you in something as devastated as it was angry. “When did you start thinking this way?” Apprehensive you simply said the truth, after you had given birth and Jons eyes narrowed even more. “Why would you ever think after you’ve given birth to my child, is when I’d want you less, let alone not want you anymore at all? Do you have a single idea how you make me feel knowing you’re the mother of my child?”

The manner which you bit down on your tongue and shook your head was almost in a childlike innocence. As was the whisper that followed, dripping in an insecurity. “I don’t know why it started now, but I didn’t...I wasn’t blaming you for any of it Jon.”

Were he not handling you so gently in his touch, he may have raised his voice. “You should’ve. If I had been unfaithful to you, I’d want you to blame me. I’d want you to be angry that I’d ever treat you that way. But ever since that night, something in your head’s been lying to you and saying all these things that aren’t true and you’re breaking your own heart by believing them.”

You felt the muscles in your neck almost shivering as you held back that growing feeling in your chest of something too upset to handle, as if you were doused in ice cold water and the intensity of the manner which Jon spoke the truth to you was overwhelming to take in. “I only thought-”

“You thought I didn’t want you anymore, and you were willing to put your well being in danger just to try and convince me to stay. And when that didn’t work, you tricked me into forcing you to go way past your limits that night because you thought thats all you were good for.” He was angry. He was clearly quite angry and you felt those tears falling that time not knowing how to fix it.

But his touch on you was still so confusing, warm and gentle and soothing when his tone, his voice and words were all mad. Yours just a mutter against him, though he heard you perfectly. “I wanted to make you happy, it had been so long...and I know you like-”

Jon was not having it. “What I like, is you. Being with you, sharing myself with you. I don’t fuck you just because I can, I do it because you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to be with. I never had a crush before you, and I never did after or since. You gave birth to my child, I’ve never wanted you more then knowing you and I have a son together, but I was scared of putting you at risk before it was safe. But then you did what you did the other night, and now I’m terrified.”

You knew he was not really expecting you to say anything until he was done, but winding down from the anger, Jon pulled you by the hip closer to his front as he pulled you back down to press a kiss to your forehead, down to your hair and just below your ear as he ran his fingers through the locks gently.

“You cannot do that to me again. You can’t force yourself to do things you don’t want just because you don’t want to make me mad.” Pulling you to look you in the eyes, finally a brightness shined with something just as raw as your current heart. “I’ve only ever loved you, only ever wanted you. You were brought into this world to be with me, and we both had to die before we could get there. So don’t ever put me in that position again. By doing what you did to please me, you just turned me into her.” Your eyes widened, as did your lips part to your now much more erratic heartbeat. “I know something inside you is struggling, but this isn’t the answer. I will get you through this, but you have to promise me you’ll be honest. If you don’t want something you need to tell me. Don’t force yourself to do things like that just for my sake. Ever.”

He was firm, but the anger had dissipated. He was almost commanding you, but he didn’t bombard you aggressively about it. His eyes looked as upset as yours did about it, but the touch of his hands against you was still somehow so gentle and so loving. Your voice barley muttering out, “I’m so sorry.”

Nudging your nose with his, Jon hesitated. But in your clearing mind you recognized it as him asking if you were alright with it, and you gave a single nod before he gently captured your lips in a kiss. Pulling you down and more close to his front, Jon kept you in his chaste kiss deeply and long before not even parting far enough that you still felt his lips brushing yours as he spoke. “Don’t be sorry, darling. I only need you to be honest with me. We’ll get you passed this feeling, but you need to let me help you.”

That time, you closed the gap and Jon sat up straighter. His arms coming up to wrap more around your back and up your spine as yours came more over his shoulders. His lips soft against yours, and he deepened it each single chance you had of breathe. Moving to tilt your head himself, Jon held you against him tighter as a small sound of need came from you. Only pulling away enough to rasp against your gasping lips, “Why did you tell me you were completely healed?”

He refused to let you leave, pressing his lips once more in a harsh kiss and giving little room for you to explain yourself. Which for once, you did genuinely as the feeling tingling against your own lips from his had your buzzing heart beg for more. “I wanted to make it up to you for the other night. I wanted to set things right.” All but in a demanding fashion he asked if you were being honest with him. “I am, I promise. I know it’s hard to believe me now, but I miss you too, Jon..I miss being with you.”

“Did you only want to do this earlier for my sake?” You nodded. “So why should I believe you changed your mind now?”

Backing from his lips, did a flustering feeling begin to grow. You didn’t really know how to say it, but something about how rough his kiss was, now he nibbled at your lips more roughly then he seemed to sense had awoken something inside you that begged for him to stay close. Looking partially down to most of his lower torso and all his bottom half hidden under the waters, you bit your tongue again.

How did women ever do this as a living? Talk this way to men day and night?

Instead you grasped the hand behind at your spine. Pulling it between you, raising it enough to press a kiss to his hand before gently uncurling the tense fingertips free. “Maybe you shouldn’t blindly trust me..” Trailing off, your eyes bright looked at him with an unasked question. Tilting his head, Jons jaw clenched as he exhaled again.

Pressing the hand now against your stomach, down until it was hidden under the water not yet breached beyond to anything indecent, but you certainly both knew you felt his cock twitch between you, and his grey eyes seep into something darker. Dragging them down what of your figure he could see and back up. Running his other hand free along your cheek and jaw. “Promise me you want this.”

“I want this, I want you. I promise.”

The second two of his fingers slid down, he found your clit with ease, pressing them against it as a spark flew between your legs into your heart and back. Eyes watching so close to yours, telling you silently not to look away from him. An experimental rub against your clit had to nearly jump with a gasp into his arms more, but Jon embraced it. Pulling you against him before threading his fingers through your hair and turning to rasp roughly into your ear as he found a pattern of tight circles to rub into your overwhelmingly sensitive bundle of nerves. “Gods, you’re still this sensitive..”

Almost in wonder, and it was certainly true. Something powerful had overtaken you when you were with child, but you felt so utterly worked up as your hands tightened around his shoulders as he kept your face tucked in his neck enough he could growl in your ear. The pressure of his fingers at your clit drawing such easy cries, but when such a pattern you got used too, he changed it to something new and worked you up all the way over again without ever committing to one.

Desperately grasping at him, did you feel lightheaded as your core burned and twisted each time he ran his touch over your clit in a new way. “Jon I-” Muttering to let go, you hid in him more as Jon instead yanked your head away enough he pulled you lips to kiss.

Biting down at the same time his touch on your clit grew rougher, your gasp gave him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Brushing along yours, and your moan gifted into his mouth had him rub tighter and rougher just to be gifted more sounds. Had he given you air, you’d beg his name but he kept you at bay with his kiss. Surrendering to him as you could barley explore him back before Jon took charge. Kissing you deeper each time his fingers on your clit went rougher.

The coil inside you twisting and each pass growing white hot until you felt yourself let go. But refusing to let you away from his kiss, you moaned desperately against his mouth. A hot wave of pleasure soaking into your blood stream and vibrating through your entire body, you shook as it made you nearly lightheaded. Hips almost writhing to the touch while you felt his cock harden completely between you, and his grasp at your hair grow tighter.

Before you even could come down from your sudden orgasm, Jon yanked you from his kiss and tilted you to look in his eyes. The same instance, did he slide those same two fingers down and he certainly knew the difference even in such warm water. Tilting his head almost exhaling through gritting teeth at what he found, Jon did not do it until you nodded. But the second you did, Jon slid those same two fingers deep inside of you as that time you cried out loud into the air. But you had nowhere to hide amongst such a feeling.

Shaking, he dragged them along such a sensitive wall already you begged his name but with heavy eyes he refused to let you break eye contact. Your mouth parting open, but with no words Jon spoke roughly for you. “If it’s too much,” Shaking your head desperately no, he insisted. “No, if this gets to be too much, darling-”

Fingers entangling in his thick curls, you had little breath to even speak through as he steadily slid those fingers in and out of you, as each drag you felt yourself grow that much more wet. “It’s not please don’t stop, please..” Increasing the pace, your insides were so tight as well as you new the water hid how much you had begun to grace him with your own wetness. Jons cock throbbing feeling how soaked you kept growing inside, but almost not even as worked up as he felt watching the pure beg in your eyes relying on him for you.

He hadn’t even taken you and already he felt out of his mind.

A slow pace but every push of his fingers deep inside you did it have your nails digging into his shoulders, head dropping down with a cry wanting to move with him but needing to just trust him. Jon muttered your name, stern and commanding. Gaze rising back up and you could read the look on his face without any question. You were not allowed to look away.

Mouth dropping as a moan was silent coming through, your thighs shaking around him as the feeling warm inside you grew hotter and hotter and Jons eyes were so dark and so much of his expression was stern and unblinking you felt another wave of pleasure burn as he dragged against you each slow steady push and pull. Eyes hooded trying to stay on his lap straight enough you wouldn’t look away, but it was almost a fight as his eyes on you so intently as he thrusted his fingers deep inside of you was too much to handle. “Jon..”

Pulling you to meet his lips, only short and chaste as he murmured against them as he moved faster and faster to your crying end. “Do you want to do this here, or on our bed?” The quickness you nearly begged to do it here was far more of an indicator of how genuinely you wanted him them before, as if you’d let tears fall should he stop now. “Alright, one more. Give me one more first.”

Hurling you towards an end there was only a twisting in your gut before it snapped. Jons other hand rose up to grasp the back of your neck, forcing your eyes up to meet his gaze as you came. Never stopping, but a slow decrease in his pace as he guided you through it. Pulling out you whimpered, but it only made his cock throb between you.

Grasping both sides of your face, Jon pulled you back to his lips roughly, your hands wrapped around his shoulders and back before he tore away from you with a heaving breath and gritted teeth. “I’m going to ask you one more time, are you sure you want this? We can wait however long you need-”

Shaking your head you almost moved to perch more in his lap with a gentle beg. “No, I want this, I promise.” Almost as if watching for lies, this time you felt none within you and hoped Jon could see the same. If judging by the clench in his jaw or the way his hands were tight as he guided your hips, he was desperately hoping you were being honest with him. He had made it clear, lying to him about the other night was one thing, but lying about this would be far worse.

The fog in your head was so confusing, but the more you felt his rough touch bruising already into your skin, the way water ran from you down hitting the scars on his chest and down to where his cock was impressively hard, you felt as if the fog had been burned away each time he guided you to your end. But you didn’t want to lie about this, and what you knew was true was how much you could feel your wetness building as your eyes trailed down once more.

Hands perched on his shoulders, chest visibly breathing harshly as you considered it. Your first time, you didn’t have to think about it. Robb refused you to look to until he had you worked up right to the point you would nearly beg for what you had yet to even have. He was rough and incredibly dominating about it and it worked for your vastly more unsure mind to let him control it all.

With Jon, it was very similar but overwhelming in such a vast new array of burning need. He had kissed you and all you could do was hand yourself over to however he wanted as if that was why you were born into the world. He had slid deep inside of you before you could think about it. The first time you had actually seen his cock, he had twisted to lay you out on the ground to take you a second time. It had been difficult to be intimidated by what you already had seconds before.

But now? It felt nothing like that. You could see all of him, how he somehow looked even longer then normal, considering it was not as if what was already there wasn’t intimidating. But gods protect you, the weeks passed and you were not sure how you had ever taken his size before. Muttering your name roughly, your eyes peeked up to his as he rasped out, “Talk to me.”

Biting your lip as your eyes fluttered shut to collect yourself, you were distinctly worked up considering you had not noticed the truly pure and innocent way you had said it. “I just..you’re somehow..bigger then I remembered..”

Jons eyes few shut as he exhaled a rough warning of your name. Meeting your eyes only to find you truly meant it without any other implication or tease, you were just intimidated by how thick his cock truly was. His voice was nearly a growl as he ran his hand behind your head through your hair. “You’ve taken all of me before, darling. Many times.”

Gods it truly felt like you were an innocent maiden all over again. The thought of taking him something that seemed so daunting and yet the deeper part of you knew that he felt so good inside of you. Prompting you as he nudged your nose gently with his, a more subtle sounding command. “Wrap your hand around me. Just like that.” His muscles tensing and releasing almost a shiver as you did so, not even able to hold all of him in your hand he was so thick. “You can tell me to stop at any time. I’ll guide you, you guide me, alright?”

He accepted your nod that time, your breath trapped in your lungs the moment you felt the tip of his cock slip inside of you. Holding you in place, you shook your head with something clawing in your voice for him. “I just..could we go slow?”

In truth, Jon almost laughed, he would have smiled gently at least were he not so focused on paying attention. Needing to see the very moment you may try to hide if you were genuinely uncomfortable from him. His voice barley a husk beyond his accent slurring thick at the feeling already. “We are, I promise. Do you want to keep going?”

A genuine ask, and again your wordless nod was taken for now. Inch by inch did you sink down onto him, your hands now both grasping at his shoulders. Face tight in half a wince and begging to cry out, you soaked his cock the deeper you sank, making it easier for his thickness to slide into you. There was not no resistance though. Jons hands on your hips were tighter then he’d ever held you there, to him, this was almost cruel. You weren’t even this tight around him your first night together. It was as if the time you took to heal had given you your maidenhood back.

This was the sort of warm, soaking tightness around his cock that he’d be desperate to pound inside of you with to surpass. But he took it slow, the only harsh treatment being the bruises on your hips. The tear in your throat barley letting a meek whine leave, but as soon as you were fully sat on him, his entire length throbbing inside of you did your head drop with a much more desperate moan, unable to leave his shoulder, your hands held to his shoulders and the black curls now dancing along your bare skin. That time, the small beg was certainly you, and there was not a hint of how unsure you had been mere seconds ago. “Please, Jon, please..I want to feel you so much..”

Wrapping one arm up around your neck and keeping you hidden in his neck gripping your hair, Jons eyes fluttered shut at how your walls still somehow clenched tightly around him more. “You have me..you have me right here. All of me, I promise.” You nodded, and he seemed to take that for what he needed, free hand grasping at your hip again, just barley moving. Murmuring in your ear, “Come on, darling..”

Finally moving along with the slow pull of his cock barley out of you, but meeting his thrust deep back inside as you lowered yourself to meet him. Nails digging tightly into him as you gasped, the stretch something genuinely painful and yet as your hips followed his again, and again, you almost felt delirious thinking he may stop. His cock dragged along your walls, drawing pleasure from deep within your core to burn out like a star and flood your veins with nothing but a beg for him. As his other hand moved to your other hip, you nearly didn’t have to do any work.

Such shallow thrusts in and out so deep inside of you, Jon also moved your hips to follow in perfect harmony as your name growled from his mouth. Lips finding his neck, not even sinking your teeth into his skin on purpose, but each slow thrust filling you over and over with something so bright and perfect you felt things lose any meaning that was not existing for him for exactly this.

The gentle sloshing of the hot water between you was nothing to his warmth so close to your bare skin, and yet you cried more into his neck. Held the back of his neck and hair even tighter as you clenched around him each slow sink back inside. Your grip around him tightened, and as he thrusted a little rougher back inside of you, did you find yourself moving without him to meet that heavily feeling together. Jons own arms wrapped more around your back, one tightening in your hair as you both sat up more pressed against the other.

Each time he slid back up inside of you, did you sink down to meet faster as if you existed for him, as if all you suddenly knew was the sparks of something burning you alive as Jon filled you over and over that had you desperate to feel his every inch stretching your walls. Growls and grunts deep in Jons chest vibrated through your front and down between your legs as you cried out like a siren in his ear meant to tempt him into a world of sin, and each time he thrusted rougher inside of your cunt did he decide falling for that trap was worth it.

Faster he moved and faster did you meet his thrusts that water splashed across your skin and splattered down onto the floor without a single care. Jon almost sat back a bit more, keeping you laid on his front at more of an angle as he grasped at both of your hips, refusing you to even leave his cock as much as he had been doing himself before. Slowing you down, one hand of yours holding steady at his waist, the other pressed along his chest as you once again hid in his neck.

Not for a single second did he stop, or wait for drag a moment out too long. The motions of him dragging you up and down his cock were more as waves then any waters you had sailed in your entire life, the waves moving together deep inside your cunt creating such a heavy haze in your head that you didn’t know any words which were not mindless begging of his name.

His rasp was nearly a death sentence in your ear, husking out so roughly you almost couldn’t understand him, but his hands were tight just as his breathing turned heavy. “I’m close, darling, tell me what you need.” But you held onto him tighter, a high pitched cry invaded your speech as you pleaded nothing, you needed him without any other specifications. But you truly didn’t, soaking around him you felt Jons cock thick and throbbing inside of you and that hot coil twisting in your spun out out control and you nearly fell into his firm front with nothing but his name clawing from your singing cries.

Rough thrusts far more pounding did Jon fuck up into you, once, twice nearing six times. Each rougher thrust of his cock he still moved you with him, clenching and cumming around him before finally all which left him was a grunt, bleeding into a growl of words not even you could catch. Forcing your cunt to take his every inch, did Jon throb inside of you before finally he came. Thick, hot spurts of his seed spilled inside of you as you fell into his neck as much as Jon wrapped one hand around to your hair, turning you enough to hide his growling need in your hair as he filled you again and again. As if in the weeks he hadn’t had you, it was as spilling inside of you at once. Never did he stop moving your hips as he filled you, and only did you both slow to a stop as every bit of his seed had nowhere to go but stay inside you the way you both wanted.

It was a good while he kept you there, on top of his cock just like that as your breathing both heaved before, Jon sat up. Guiding you with him, he cupped your cheek as both your needing heavy set eyes looked to the other just as ruined too. Rasping out so low and so thick accented it made you clench around him again. “If I tell you I love you now, are you going to believe me?”

And somehow still, your nod was almost innocent as was your voice. “I do, I promise.” Meeting your lips with his, it was deep and with a sloppiness neither of you cared to correct did he keep you sat deep on his cock in the water as your hearts both calmed down.

Slowly did Jon eventually take his time lifting you off of him, standing you both up in the water but neither of you were fooled by the fact that as soon as he could watch the water now run down your bare frame, did once again his already half hard cock grow more and more. The grey in his eyes had hardly been visible for long by the time you met them, and watched the black take over with a lust one not you, could mistaken for anger.

But once your feet hit the floor, Jons hands careful with you, murmuring in your ear he pulled you into his side to guide you to where water was not a hazard. “Careful now, come on.” Looking you over, Jon grasped the side of your jaw to tilt you up to meet his eyeline before he leaned down to once more kiss you.

Life was cruel sometimes though, and just as you could feel his breath hot on your skin did a knock at the door call from a guard to Jons attention. You were fairly certain were he a man in less control, he might have yelled for them to fuck off at that point. Instead, he looked you over once more before moving passed you. “Stay there.”

Returning to you, Jon had gone to where you took his clothes off, yanked on his breeches barley managing to find the patience to tie the laces enough to keep them up, barley concealing how desperately hard he was. But this time, Jon muttered for you to raise your arms for him. Pulling something very soft over your front, you could feel it sit just low enough that it would cover your front but truly nothing to hide your ass.

Looking down to the light grey, you felt something almost warm in your cheeks realizing Jon had simply put you in his shirt. Guiding you to the main room, the door knocked again and Jon kissed the spot below your ear before giving you a push. “Lay down for me, I’ll be right there.”

Truthfully you nodded in a daze, sitting back against the fur on his bed before laying out, one knee bending naturally to put your foot flat on the soft surface. A hand over top your head against where your hair splayed out wet against a pillow, the other resting comfortably against your stomach over his shirt. Your eyes closed, trying to breath deeply to will your heart to come down, but refused as the feeling of pain between your legs was finally one you recognized as shamelessly addicting.

Who was even a the door, or what they wanted was utterly lost on you. Your mind unaware of any passage of time as the fog had been replaced with both a clarity and yet a haze of need dominated by Jons very existence. By the time he had returned to you, already taken everything back off of him, Jon crawled up onto the bed. Nudging your inner thigh wider almost in the manner Ghost would bump someone out of his way gently before meeting you. Hands braced at both sides of your waist Jon leaned down to finally finish the job, capturing your lips greedily. Biting down to make you let his tongue slip inside once more as he pulled your legs apart kneeling before you. Trailing down to your neck, Jon muttered, “I need to taste you..”

It wasn’t an ask, or a request. Jons need was very heavy between you as he skipped passed what of your skin was now hidden by his shirt. Grasping your leg around your calf to steady, Jon slowly pressed his lips from where he met just there. Lips along your calf before widening you leg more and more, giving him access to run his lips long your inner thigh. Keeping you wide on one side, Jon slunk down to do exactly the same with the other, but instead placing that thigh hooked over his shoulder.

In truth he cared not about slowly working you up this time, fuelled by something desperate Jon pulled your other thigh up to sink his mouth down to your cunt. His tongue fat and wide as he licked along your soaking folds, groaning shamelessly as he sunk his tongue deep inside of you. Your back arched up in a high needy cry but Jons hands always kept you in place.

Licking and tasting you as if he was a man dying of thirst, and you were the offering from the gods sent to save his life. That was the utterly greedy manner in which he ran his mouth and tongue over your soaking folds. He drank what you gifted him with a purposeful sloppiness as if you were a meal and your cries only spurned him on more.

His facial hair scratching raw against your inner thighs, but your hand grasping gently in his hair pulled a growl more. Soaking you as much as you soaked him, Jon did not waste any of it. Running his tongue again flat along all of you before sinking back up and pulling every bit of a moan and cry out of you, in the form of what you could coat his tongue with.

You truly were hurled into an orgasm before you knew it was coming, but Jon spread your other leg wide as you did so, keeping you posed for him perfect as he grunted into you to drink all of your wetness as if you only could do so for him. Which by this point, you felt as if you might have.

Only pulling away as your hips jolted from such direct pleasure, Jon muttered into your soaked cunt with as much need as he tasted you with. “I want you one more time, darling. Will you let me have you?”

Truly your only answer was that of a breathless beg, “Jon, please...”

Surging upward, Jon pulled you by the back of your head up to meet his lips, not asking permission to slip his tongue deep into your mouth and make you taste what you had caused him to be a desperate animal of an addict for. As your arms wrapped around his neck. Jon hitched your thigh up to his hip and pulled your other back wide. Barley tearing from your lips to meet your eyes as Jon sunk inside of you that time still just as unbelievably tight around him but much more smooth as you took every inch as deep as you could. One single thrust Jon gave before he slid almost all the way out, leaving just the leaking tip of his cock inside before another smooth thrust back as deep.

That time, Jon kept your eyes each moment. Pulling out slowly so you felt his every inch thick drag along your sensitive, soaking walls but did not ever waver in keeping your eyes. A burning in your face of how embarrassed it felt that he watched your every moan and cry of his cock thrusting in and out of you, but he didn’t feel that way back. His eyes still dark, and his face almost unchanging in how serious they looked down to you as if he could not afford to miss a second of it.

His voice was rough, the rasp forming into an alluring, seducing husk drenched in an animalistic need as he groaned over himself pushing deep inside, his hand pulling your other leg even wider to sink somehow deeper, even faster. “I’ll never want anyone else, you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.”

Almost a ramble but he kept your eyes, your own lips parted in a cry but small breathless sounds could not drown out how gruff he spoke to you still without needing any reply. “Don’t ever think I’d get this from anyone else, it’s you. Only you.” Closing his eyes through a growling groan in his chest he moved a bit faster, perhaps a hair touch rougher but certainly faster as he looked down at your near innocent wide eyes, relying on only him to get you there again. “You belong to me, you always have, you always will. Nothing can change that, I won’t let it.”

Faster and faster he fucked you, so smooth inside your tight walls soaking him enough he almost wanted to stop talking just to make you hear how thrusting deep into your cunt, you could hear how wet you were. “I never thought..I’m sorry..” Your hands grasping around his shoulders and waist, or smoothing along his scarred chest like it was home but you moved as much with him as you could from his strength keeping you pinned to the bed.

Neither of you even truly knew if Jon was aware of what he was saying the closer he dragged you to your burning end as much as his cock could throb inside of you. “I love you, more then anything in this bloody world I love you, don’t you dare forget that.” Nearly growling out the last as if a command you nodded as you arched up into his touch, your core burning in need begging his name as he followed suit with yours. Dropping his forehead to yours as he fucked you faster and faster, the sound of his hips against yours finally filling the room. Skin slapping against skin in a way that made him go even faster to keep the sound in his hearing over his voice calling your name sternly. “Tell me you understand, that you’ll never doubt this again. Never.”

Nodding, you begged his name almost too sweetly for how much he was fucking you deep on the furs of his bed. “I promise, Jon, never. Please, I love you so much..”

Capturing your lips, Jon pulled back to look you in the eye, his voice much more soothing. Feeling your end crash closer and closer. “I’m sorry darling, but you’ll never love me as much as I do you. It’s impossible..you have me addicted..obsessed with you so much you make me mad.”

Guiding you to your end, you merely begged his name trying to move with him as much as you could against his strength forcing your hips to just take him as he smoothly gave. “Jon, I want..please cum inside me.”

Jon barley reacted as his eyes were wide and dark as you clenched around his cock. Your core bursting as if a star in the sky exploding into a shimmering green, but he never let you look away. His cock pushing deep in and out of you as each wave of your orgasm had you grasping at him with tears forming overwhelmed in your eyes.

Grasping the leg by his hip, Jon pushed it up against your chest as much as he could stretch you, the other grasping your free leg, and letting it on his other side take it’s place on his hip. Keeping you balanced so relying on him as Jon groaned as he finally followed. Once more spilling inside of you as if you were born for this.

Collapsing on top of you, you wrapped your arms around his back and shoulders, bit never did his hips stop. He kept thrusting inside of you, capturing your lips desperately with his, muttering things possessive and bewitched in need as he filled you. At some point your eyes slipped closed, and Jon had yet to pull out of you, and his cock had yet to reach it’s filling need of your cunt.

Jon fucked you deeply far later into the night then he wanted to admit, but he refused to cum each time until he pulled your sleeping self along with him. By the time sleep found him too, he still hadn’t pulled out. Only turning you to hide in his front, his cock inside you soaked with your wetness and his cum, but his muscles still finally relaxed for the first time in weeks.

He knew tonight wouldn’t fix the darkness wrong in your head, but it was a step.

[signedkoko]

Hi!! I just want to start by saying thank you so much for sharing your writing with us! I check your blog everyday to see if you’ve updated and love reading what you post! 💙

In light of the season finale, I was wondering if you could do some romantic headcanons in which f!reader finally approaches Vox (after a long slowburn of mutual pining between them, though neither knows how the other feels until now) and tells him he deserves better than whatever unhealthy on-again-off-again thing he has going with Valentino? And perhaps suggests (or outright says) how she would actually take care of him/treat him better? 🫣 I would LOVE to see your take on it! Only the best for everyone’s favorite TV man lol!

Thank you so much in advance if you choose to do it, I hope that’s all clear! Please take care of yourself and have a wonderful day!

Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which you decide its finally time to step inbetween Vox and Valentino. Reader is female.

The most feared assistant in all of hell, you certainly were one of a kind when it came to sinners

The Vees had taken you in as their head assistant, close enough to be a fourth member but far enough to be uninvited to galas, showings, and all the celebrity events

It was your ideal position; you made plenty of money to get by

Class without the hass(le) as you always put it

Your job was hard, but it was nothing you couldn't handle; all it took was knowing it and predicting the hiccups

Besides Valentino, the other two were very relaxed with you and usually only demanded that you do things that were typical of your day

And being around them so much, you naturally became an honorary member; you'd especially spent plenty of time at Vox's side

He was the hub of communication, and he offered up a space for you to call an office in his own area of the building

Not only did that mean the others could easily reach you since you were always around Vox, but it also meant you always had an upgraded space, courtesy of Vox's constant innovations

He was always so peculiar; you could tell he didn't like being around people, yet he always called for you to pick up lunch with him

Or he brought you to meetings to 'take notes' despite the fact that he could transcribe every conversation in a second

To him, he was showing that he enjoyed his company; to you, it was an opportunity to get to know him better

Admittedly, you wanted to know a lot more about him—no, you wanted to know everything

Unfortunately, the more time you spent with him, the more you'd end up being around Valentino, who always called on Vox during his fits of rage

It was confusing

Vox expressed hating him, but also tripped over every step just to appease the overlord

And Valentino took advantage of that a lot, which caused a boiling anger to eat at you

But you knew your place; you knew Vox was an adult who could stop himself, so you bitterly witnessed it

But as you and Vox got closer and Valentino got rougher with Vox, it became impossible to ignore

After hearing a screaming fit from his office, you could make out Valentino's heels stomping out the door towards the elevators, and after a good moment of silence, you heard Vox follow

But you stood up this time, and right as the overlord passed your door, you caught his arm

" Can't talk right now. "

" He isn't worth your time, Vox, sir. "

You certainly didn't waste any time, and in a moment he went from pulling his arm away to stopping in his tracks to look at you with a surprised look scribbled on his face

You felt guilty knowing that he was only surprised because you'd never tried to help him before; he must have thought you were a terrible person, but you continued

" I don't get what you see in him when there are already people who love and care for you far more than he ever has all around you. "

While you started strong, your voice eventually tappered off into mumbles, already losing the confidence you thought you had when you started initially

The silence is deafening

Until he lets out a long exhale and slumps

" You're right, I shouldn't get so worked up. But Jesus, I didn't expect that out of you. "

He was already trying to bring in humour to laugh it off, but you were more glad that he didn't take your actions as negative

" Just so you know, I'm sure I can show you what you deserve "

You couldn't help it with his validation; you had to get it out, and he seemed to pause again—before a bluescreen came up

Oh no, oh no, you immediately called for him and snapped your fingers, hoping to shake him out of it, and with a quick reboot, he was back to ask if you meant it

And of course you did, and of course he wanted to take you up on the offer

As happy as he is, Vox is frustrated that he didn't ask you first; he's usually the first move kind of guy—or at least he swears

But he trusts you will treat him better because he's always wanted you to

Author's Note - Tell me why I went so hard on the lore that this ended up being 700 words I am so sorry!!! I'm glad you like my work, I really hope I did your request justice!!! Again, idk why I went so crazy on the buildup ahhh

[misscongeniality18]

Hi! I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS SO MUCH SO I'M HERE AGAIN! This time I would like to ask you to write something about Kaz Brekker and reader where she is like a longtime friend and a member of the Crows. The two have always had feelings for each other but never spoke about it so, when they argue because something dangerous happens, the truth comes out and a smut at the end?! I love this prompt so much. I don't know why but I'm so obsessed with best friends to lovers!

OMG girl yes, I love this trope too! This is my first fic with any smut, but I'll try my best! I also didn't mean to make this so long, but it just sort of happened?

Movement - Kaz Brekker (18+, Minors DNI)

Synopsis ! You and Kaz have been friends forever, but lately, you couldn't help but want something more. When the two of you are put in danger's path, both of your truths are out in the open. Pairing ! Kaz Brekker x fem!reader Genres ! Friends-to-lovers, angst, fluff, smut Warnings ! Violence, blood, danger, language, reader is the only one who can touch Kaz, maybe slightly ooc Kaz?, kissing, nudity, sexual content (fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex [wrap it up people]) Word Count - 3047

" When you move

I'm put to mind of all that I wanna be

When you move

I could never define all that you are to me "

- Movement, Hozier

Masterlist Request Guide

You and Inej ran across the rooftops, jumping from gable to gable. Tonight's heist had a plentiful bounty that sat nestled in Inej's pockets. The two of you had been charged with stealing some pieces of the Ravkan crown jewels that had been taken from the palace and illegally sold.

What did Kaz want with stolen jewels? He may be your best friend, but not even you could read his mind. He had tells, of course, as did almost everybody, but Kaz’s past made him especially skillful at hiding them. You knew this all too well.

After all, you had been the one to pull him out of the harbor.

You had been infected with firepox like Kaz and his brother, but Jordie was the only one who perished out of the three of you. You didn’t know them personally at the time, only in passing. When you and Kaz were both dumped into the harbor with the others who had died, thought to be dead yourselves, you had woken up to same horrors of rotting corpses around you and the feeling of cold, mushy flesh.

While you had been around death and illness before—witnessing your parents die of the disease—Kaz hadn’t seen anything like this until then. He’d had to use his brother’s body as a life raft to swim to shore. You’d grown up swimming in a nearby fishing village, so you swam to shore easily. When you saw Kaz struggling, you’d reached out to him, and he’d hung onto you for dear life.

That night had been traumatizing for him, and for years afterwards, he was unable to touch anyone. It took several more years to get him to touch you, and you’d been patient and worked with Kaz to get used to the feeling of skin on skin again. But it could only be you. Anyone else, and he’d be right back in the water.

You were always there to pull Kaz out of the murky depths, witnessing him at his lowest. You were also there to see him in his triumph of leading his Crows and defeating Pekka Rollins. Finally, he could rest, and Kaz wanted to do it with you.

While planning heists, of course.

Kaz didn’t want you going along, and he’d always try to persuade you to stay behind or at least stay by his side. He always had a soft side for you, so he’d usually meet you halfway. You were in the same boat; your connection to Kaz originated from your soul, and you’d do anything to appease him. But tonight, Kaz wasn’t there, so you took the opportunity to join Inej on the rooftops.

You just didn’t expect anyone to shoot you.

Kaz stormed into your room at the Slat, the door slamming into the wall behind him as he took in your white undershirt lifted just enough to reveal the bloodied gash on the side of your ribs. “What the hell happened?”

You rolled your eyes as Jesper held you down while Nina worked to heal the wound in your side. “It’s a scratch, Kaz. I’m totally fine. The bullet didn’t hit anything serious.”

“Bullet?!” Kaz exclaimed in shock. “I was told you fell off the roof.”

Wylan, from his spot in the corner of the room, hummed in opposition. “That was after she was shot.”

You suddenly let out a groan, squirming in Jesper’s arms. Kaz rushed over as fast as he could, ignoring the searing pain in his leg. “Move, Jes.”

Kaz took Jesper’s spot in keeping you still while Nina finished healing you. “It’s going to leave a scar, but you should be fine by the morning. Good thing the bullet never actually went through you.”

“That will be enough, Nina,” Kaz said lowly, and everyone knew to clear the room as fast as they could.

As soon as the others were gone, you sighed, pulling your undershirt down to cover your bandage. “Say what you’re going to say and get it over with.”

“How the fuck could you be so stupid? Joining Inej on the roof, of all places? Why not be with Nina or Jesper on the ground? We all know how clumsy you are, so it was just a matter of time before you fell off, and oh, look. You did!”

You snorted. “Like Wylan said, that was after I was shot.”

Kaz glared at you as he paced the room, leaning heavily on his cane. “That doesn’t make it any better.”

“Nothing ever does. You never let me do anything.” A child-like pout formed on your lips, and Kaz wanted to tuck your bottom lip back in place.

He refrained, however. “I have my reasons.”

“Saints, Kaz,” you huffed, sitting up and carefully standing, trying to keep your bandages in place. “If you’re not going to let me go on jobs, why am I even here?”

Kaz met your eyes, the most intense and unique shade of blue you’d ever seen. “When we were young, we promised to stick together. Don’t you remember?”

You swallowed, memories flashing behind your eyes; pinkies interlocking, teary eyes, and yes, the promise that the two of you had made.

“Of course I remember, you idiot,” you replied, holding out your pinkie finger.

Kaz glanced down at it out of the corner of his eye, dead set on refusing, but he could never say no to you. He sighed, linking your bare finger with his gloved one. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” he whispered, deep and low in his throat.

You shook your head, lips turning upwards. “You will never lose me, Kaz. I’m yours forever.”

Something crossed his eyes for a brief moment, something you’d never seen before.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Do you mean that? That you’re mine?”

You furrowed your brow, searching his face, but he turned away. “Kaz? What is it? Why are you asking me this?”

He sighed your name, closing his eyes. “I—I think I…The way that I feel about you…I think it’s…I think…”

Kaz trailed off, his chest rising with every breath, unable to finish his sentence, and he turned away. But his shield dropped, and you were able to see every emotion he was feeling.

Now you recognized what you were seeing. You’d just never seen it in Kaz before. It all made sense. The way he never wanted you in harm’s way, how he would always turn to you for advice, secrets that only you knew, the smiles that appeared only when you were around. Kaz cared for you. He…

He loved you.

Your heart soared because you loved him too. You have for a while now, but you’d never been able to act on it. Yes, Kaz was able to touch you, but in this capacity, you weren’t sure.

Taking the small step to close the distance between you was terrifying, but you were meant for terrifying things.

“Yes, Kaz,” you whispered. “I’m yours.”

You looked down at his lips, the palest of pinks. Your breaths intermingled, you were so close. “Are you… Can I…?”

You hated that you couldn’t get the questions out. It was Kaz, but you still felt like you should know him well enough not to ask. But since it was Kaz, you had to. You didn’t want to do anything he wasn’t ready for.

“I’ve never… I don’t know how,” he admitted, turning away from you, cheeks turning the color of his lips.

“It’s okay,” you said, slowly lifting a hand. At your inquiring gaze, Kaz nodded. Your hand was warm against his cool skin. “I’ll follow your move.”

Kaz inched closer, noses brushing. “Is this okay?”

You nodded, eyelids fluttering. “Yes. Are you okay?”

He let out a breath, sending gooseflesh over your skin. “Yes,” he answered, and then his lips touched yours.

It was like no kiss you’ve ever had before. The others you’d kissed had been rushed, a frenzy of lips and tongues and teeth. But Kaz’s kiss, it was slow and deliberate, like he wanted to stop time itself and stay in this moment with you.

All in all, you were seeing a different side of Kaz. He usually had a hard exterior, the ruthless Bastard of the Barrel persona he had created. When he was alone with you, he was more relaxed and open, but still haunted by the ghosts of his past. You’d never gotten to know the boy he was before, only the one you had helped out of the harbor.

Was this who you were seeing? Not Kaz Brekker, but Kaz Rietveld? A boy who was curious and sweet-natured, tender and benevolent?

Then his tongue stroked your bottom lip, and you jumped in surprise.

“Was that wrong?” Kaz asked, panic lighting up his eyes.

“No,” you said, shocked. “It was right.”

Kaz grinned at you, a true smile this time, not the little thing he did as the notorious gang leader, and his gloved hands gingerly touching your waist, careful of your injury. “Can we do it again?”

You returned the smile. “Yes.”

He kissed you again, much more confident and sure than before. When his hands moved across your waist, brushing your bandaged side, you gasped.

“Sorry,” he mumbled against your lips between kisses.

You hummed, chills running down your spine when his hands gripped your hips. “It’s okay.”

“I’d like to try something else, if that’s okay?”

You pulled back a hair’s breadth to look into his eyes, his pupils blown wide, and you knew how much your kisses were affecting him. “Are you sure? This isn’t moving too fast for you?”

“I’ve wasted enough time, and I don’t want to wait any longer. I just…” He lowered his head, stray bits of his hair brushing against your bare shoulder. “I’ve never done this before.”

You brushed away the hair that had fallen forward, lifting his head to you. Your fingers tangled themselves in his dark locks, silky and fine to the touch. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

Kaz leaned forward and kissed your forehead, a simple, gratuitous kiss, and then he brushed his lips across your temple, your cheekbones, your jaw, and then the crook of your neck. He was experimenting, finding each touch a new and thrilling way to explore you. “Is this okay?” He mumbled against your shoulder.

You had your head tilted back, eyes closed. Every single one of Kaz’s kisses tingled against your skin, and your breath came out in pants. “Yes,” you gasped. “Don’t stop.”

Kaz continued to press kisses to your shoulders, across your collarbone, against your throat. “Tell me what to do,” he whispered.

“Do whatever you want,” you breathed.

“And if I want to take your shirt off?”

You opened your eyes, lids heavy with want. Kaz’s eyes were blazing with a fire you’d only ever seen when he’d defeated Pekka Rollins, but that had been a sinister and triumphant flame, and this was burning only for you out of desire.

“Then take it off.”

Kaz fingered the hem of your shirt, lifting it ever so slowly. He avoided the bandage on your side, and when the garment was over your head, he tossed it to the floor.

“Saints,” Kaz cursed, gazing at your bare skin and breasts. “You’re so beautiful,”

You pulled him towards you, kissing him feverishly. “Touch me, please.”

Kaz ran a hand over belly, up your ribcage, and lightly trailed his fingers over the swell of your breast, causing you to gasp in his mouth. “Is that good?” He asked, his voice low and coarse.

“Yes.”

“What about this?” He inquired as his thumb brushed against your nipple.

“Yes,” you whined, enjoying his experimentation. He wasn’t trying to be seductive, you knew, but Saints, he was doing a very good job. Your lower belly fluttered, and desire pooled between your legs.

“And if I were to…”

A gasp left your lips as his mouth closed around a nipple, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. One of his hands squeezed the breast not occupied by his mouth, and the other settled low on your hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass.

Your own hands gripped the collar of Kaz’s shirt, and you pulled him towards your bed. He moved to support you as the two of you lowered to the mattress.

Kaz gazed down at you, bare and flushed for him, glowing in the candlelight. You really were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. If it was between you or mountains of gold, he’d choose you in a heartbeat. Hell, he’d even give the gold to Pekka if it meant keeping you forever.

You trailed your fingers over the expanse of his clothed chest, feeling the hard muscles underneath. Then you undid one button, and then another, and another. You blinked up at him, searching him for hesitation. “Is this okay?”

Kaz nodded, starting to undo some buttons himself, and your fingers met in the middle to slide the fabric over his shoulders together. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close to you, feeling his bare chest against yours as your lips met again. Legs opening to accommodate his body, you held him to you, and you never wanted to let go.

Hands were everywhere, to your surprise. Never before has Kaz touched you like this, so unreserved and wanting. Before, he would give you a hand to help you up, or a simple pat on the shoulder for a job well done. But this, you didn’t want him to stop.

His hands brushed against the fastenings of your pants, and the hesitation set it. Kaz’s throat bobbed, and before he could say anything, you reached down and undid the buttons yourself, shimmying the material over your hips and kicking it to the floor.

Kaz raked his gaze over you, a faint blush creeping over his skin. He licked his lips, his fingers sliding down your hip, over your thigh. His eyes met yours, and you felt yourself melting under the intensity of his desire. “Can I?” He asked, and you opened your legs in answer.

One finger ran over your seam, and your breath hitched. Then Kaz spread you, the pad of his finger brushing against the tiny bundle of nerves that made you moan. Kaz looked up at you, mischief gleaming in his eyes, and he touched you there again.

Your head thrown back, you gripped your sheets tightly, the anticipation making you squirm. Kaz followed the trail of your wetness to your entrance, and he drew tiny circles around you, and your hips bucked in search for more. This made Kaz curious, so he slowly pushed his finger into you, and you sighed.

You were so warm and wet, Kaz found. And the more he moved his finger, withdrawing it from you before sliding back in, the wetter you became. The sounds you made stirred something within him, setting his heart to pounding.

Then you moaned his name when he hit a certain spot inside of you.

“Kaz.”

He lifted his head to you, and you were watching him, your pupils so dilated, they covered the beautiful color of your irises. Your chest was rising and falling as you stared at him, and then you sat up, causing his finger to leave your warmth.

You reached for him, pulling his face to yours in a kiss. “I need you,” you whispered against his lips, and your hands were creating a trail down his chest and to his belt. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” Kaz said, and his hands joined yours in unbuckling his belt. Together, you removed his pants, and Kaz kicked off his shoes.

You slid a hand between you, touching the hard length of him with your fingertips. A groan left him, and his head dropped to rest against your shoulder. You pressed a kiss to his hair as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly moving up and down. He grew harder with every stroke, and he began to press kisses to your neck and shoulder.

An idea sparked in your mind, and you hooked one leg around his hips, flipping so you were on top. Kaz’s eyes went wide, and he met yours as excitement and expectation set in. You continued to stroke him, and as you moved to hover over him, you asked, “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” he replied, and he crashed his mouth to yours as you slowly lowered onto him.

Saints, this was better than your hand. You were extraordinary. Mouths moving against one another, bodies joined in a way that was so intimate, nothing would ever take its place. This was heaven, and Kaz would never be the same after this.

You moved, sliding your hips away from his before returning back to him. Every stroke of you around him made Kaz’s insides tighten until it felt like he was going to burst. He ran his hands over every inch of you he could reach, over your arms and shoulders, your waist, and following the movement of your hips.

The moans continued to leave your mouth even as you kissed him, and when you muttered that you were close, he felt you tighten around him, and that was his undoing.

Everything within Kaz shattered, as if something snapped within him. He held you against him, not wanting to let you go. When your breath returned, you slid off of him, the evidence of his release sticking to the insides of your thighs.

“Will you hand me my shirt?” You asked, collapsing beside him.

Kaz leaned over the side of the bed, grabbing the thin undershirt you had been wearing. You cleaned him off first, then yourself before throwing the shirt back to the floor. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Kaz held you close, and you tucked your head underneath his chin. Your legs were intertwined, and so were your fingers, the sweat making your bodies stick together.

This moment was perfection, Kaz thought, and he nuzzled your hair.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Your lips turned upwards in a smile as you pressed them lightly to his chest, eyes growing heavy with exhaustion.

“I love you, too.

[eluxcastar]

The One and Only

── ୨୧：arlecchino x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: a collection of moments from Arlecchino's recollections of the former Harbinger

୨୧﹑genre :: Idk actually

୨୧﹑content :: fem reader, reader is a harbinger, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 2.8k

threw this together on a whim because I missed these two I realised it's been like nine months since I wrote one of repetition I was like I wanna play around with these people in their dynamic. you don't have to necessarily have read one of repetition for it to make sense I don't think but I have a bad habit of assuming people know things they don't so take that with a grain of salt

one of repetition

Snezhnaya has never been immune to the curse of rumours that run rampant among its people. Some spread like wildfire and others die out before they gain enough traction to matter. When they somehow manage to make their way to the House of the Hearth, it matters—Mother is liable to find out, and that's when it's revealed whether or not she spread them herself.

There have never been more rumours about anyone but the first Harbinger. Arlecchino realised that when she was young.

They tell the daring tales of a tyrant decorated in well-worn armour able to bring the nation to its knees at their feet with nothing more than a pyro vision and a claymore.

Many of the kids at the House share the same sentiment. Brighella is terrifying, and though they'd like their approval, they never want to meet them. The few who have met them say they're weird.

Supposedly the child of the Tsaritsa, you have been tainted by the ever-waining loveless God of Snezhnaya and become little more than a heartless warmonger seeking absolution. You have not even removed your helmet in three centuries nor shown your face. You are fussy, childish, impulsive and arrogant like your whole reign of tyranny is a giant temper tantrum, and you'll only stop once you've realised the nation that has been dwindling ever so gradually will one day be reduced to a wasteland.

Maybe then, the ashes left behind by the fire you let tear apart this icy world will be your single lesson.

Arlecchino meets you for the first time at the celebrations for her ascendance to her Mother's position. Every Harbinger gathers at the behest of the Tsaritsa, an important event demanding their presence. All nine others and the Director are called to return, and along with them, you appear clad in armour, even on a formal occasion. You are feared, yes, but undoubtedly lavished in praise and feigned respect meant only to appease you. People seek to impress you because you are the first, an immortal Harbinger with the nation under their thumb.

Though foolish, she finds she cannot help but be swept up in the glory of it all, the appeal of having a warmonger's approval if only because it feels like the only good sign she'd ever get. Her ascendence is not born of admiration, merely convenience, a way to escape her Father and gain power. She is young and inexperienced and fills the shoes of her Mother with the grace of a newborn fawn. For just a moment, she could revel in receiving your praise, then go right back to indulging the bitterness she associates so heavily with your name. Whatever you have that sends shivers to the very core of grown men, she wants it, and having you pay some attention to her feels right. It cannot keep her from detesting you for possessing it.

You touched her shoulder once with an unnaturally warm gloved hand—a silent congratulations, she tells herself—it is the only way to justify her racing heart as you lean down and speak barely above a whisper. "Do no disappoint me, Arlecchino."

Everything takes a backseat as a fire is lit in the pit of her stomach, the drive to wipe that infuriating smirk she knows is hidden beneath your mask off your face. If she didn't know better, she could almost convince herself you thought you owned her.

For all her staring, however, she can't recall another moment of that night you spared her more than a single glance in her direction before turning away. It was Pierro who pinned Arlecchino's delusion to her chest and welcomed her, the Director, not the Tsaritsa's child. You merely took it upon yourself to congratulate her— professionally— as any colleague would.

The first time Arlecchino saw your face, she could not believe her eyes. You lack the odd companion she has long grown used to seeing by your side. She does not even recognise you at first, sitting in a chair in Pierro's quarters in plain clothes, your helmet discarded at your feet. In your hand is a glass, the liquid inside sloshing as you motion with your hand in some general direction amid your conversation.

It almost makes her uncomfortable to see, like staring down at your severed head pathetically rolling back and forth under the sole of your boot as you entertain yourself with it. It does not roll far before the adornments resist, and you don't fight them, instead rolling it back. Your only response to her gawking is to quirk your eyebrow at her.

You regard her with curiosity, though she would be remiss not to notice the glint in your eyes. "Arlecchino," you say, perhaps some mockery of greeting her.

Since she met you, her poker face has only gotten better, though her short pause is a dead giveaway that she has to think to recall your title. She still does not quite believe the woman she sees is you. "Brighella."

A smile tugs at your lips, and another sip of the drink in your glass marks your second pause. "Are you lost, or did I interrupt something?" you ask, though you turn to Pierro for the answer to the question.

Arlecchino takes a breath, determined not to let you get away with speaking to her that way without seeing any bite— "I called her," Pierro interrupts her before she can even say a word, and your eyes flicker back to her.

"I'll take my leave then," you say, gathering your things. You hook your fingers under your helmet and pick it up like nothing is wrong, as if you don't notice how Arlecchino stares and tries to remind herself that it should be obvious someone was under there. 

The only thing that helps her remind herself nobody else could sport that cocky smirk in Pierro's office without receiving a cold glare. He merely watches as you down the rest of your drink in one mouthful and leave the glass for him on his desk before stalking off. You stop only to put your helmet back on.

There's a sigh once you leave the room, and Pierro silently collects the glass.

The second time Arlecchino meets you, it is more arranged: a trip down the halls leads her to a stray fatuu bearing a message for her. You want to see Arlecchino in your chambers. There's no indication of why, and the man delivering the message had no inclination to ask before scurrying off. She cannot even say she blames him. She's seen the way you speak to the lesser fatuus before.

Arlecchino arrives in the corridor to hear the unusual noises in your room. It is like someone is rummaging through your belongings with reckless abandon and tossing whatever is in their way aside. 

She eyes the door with particularly harsh scrutiny. If there is an intruder, rifling through your room is the most effective way to get things they might want, and she can't allow them an opportunity to escape.

That is until Arlecchino hears your voice from inside, and you exaggerate a frustrated groan. You sound on the verge of tearing your hair out.

Then she braces herself to knock, and the room falls starkly silent as you register someone is standing outside.

"Who's there?" You pose the question like an accusation despite having to know you would have guests. You invited her, after all— demanded her, really.

Through gritting teeth, she finds the will to bite her tongue and say nothing about your attitude rearing its ugly head again. You find a way to always be like this. The moment she gains some semblance of understanding of your motives, you screw it up by acting superior again, like you genuinely believe the world should fall helplessly at the mercy of your whims and run as you will it to. 

"It's Arlecchino," she responds, the animosity she wishes to show neatly tucked away beneath a layer of barely cordial stoicism.

"Oh," is the only sound from inside, followed by footsteps and a light thud as if you place something down, perhaps one of the things it sounded like you were moving. "Are you alone?" 

For a moment, she almost began to wonder if you had forgotten her.

The question confuses her. "Yes."

"You may enter. The door is unlocked."

Arlecchino does not waste another moment before she opens the door to greet your unmasked face. This time, she recognises you from the pattern of your scars to the odd look on your face, though the off feeling staring into your eyes gives her strikes immediately with the same confusing force. 

It should be less jarring the second time, and yet, as she slowly closes the door behind her, she cannot help but scan the room in search of your helmet.

Your room is a damn mess, probably because you just tore it apart for reasons beyond her. She spies your helmet discarded by the bed on its side, hollow and lifeless and so unlike she usually sees it perched atop a suit of armour brimming with self-assured grandiose.

"I was worried he'd followed you all the way here."

She grasps at who you're implying almost immediately, yet can't say she understands why. It can't be anyone but the man in armour you brought back from the abyss who follows you around like a stray puppy. 

"Are you referring to the—" she also realises she has no idea what it is that follows you around— "man you took in...?"

"Yes." You answer without notice for her apprehension, or perhaps so used to it that it no longer seems worth commenting on. "He has a habit of stealing faces, and though I already told him he can't have mine, he's determined to get it."

Stealing...faces...?

"You're probably wondering why I wanted to speak with you." All too quickly, you change the subject, jumping from whatever you just said to a completely different train of thought as you turn away from her to find something amidst the clutter on your dresser. Your body obscures her view, unable to see what you're doing.

She saves you the discomfort of having a hole burned into your back from her gaze, instead taking the opportunity to look around. Do you always live in this dump? In a way, it's not hard to believe; your behaviour is reminiscent of a spoiled child who never learned to clean up their messes, yet she expected you would treat your living space with the same methodical attention as your subordinates.

"It wasn't included alongside your message," she responds absently, merely engaging because she must. Her mind is occupied, overlooking the pile of armour dumped on the floor like junk metal.

You place a glass down behind her as you speak, the sound unmistakable to her ears, compounded by the sound of something pouring. "Intentionally. You would never have come if you knew why I wanted to see you."

She cannot help but glare at the back of your head. "Is that so?"

"Indeed."

When you turn to her, she cannot help the way her attention draws to the two glasses in your hands—glasses you have no doubt filled with alcohol. Pantalone taught her such a trick not long after he became a Harbinger, and she has not a single doubt that you learned it from him as well.

While your company isn't paying attention, fill a glass and offer it to them. It's rude to refuse once it's been poured. It'll keep them put.

It didn't occur to her until after you extended the glass in your left hand to her that she realised you had trapped her in the conversation should she strive to maintain her pleasant façade. Her fist clenches tightly at her side, nails digging into her palm with a sharp pain.

Arlecchino takes the glass with a tight smile, a wordless exchange. The look in your eyes tells her you know it, too.

"I hope you didn't bring me here for a frivolous venture." Her own warning, one she feels she has earned over the past few minutes.

"No," you say, swirling the liquid in your glass as a means of entertaining yourself. "I simply wanted to observe you."

"How forward." She cannot help it by the time she realises she's said it. There is obviously disapproval in her voice.

Despite her venom, you only smile at her dumbly as if you don't notice the tone of her voice or the furrow of her brows. "Isn't it?" a rhetorical question. You let out a light chuckle at yourself. "It's strange, I thought the one to overtake the Knave would be a little more like that old hag, but it turns out you couldn't be more different if you tried."

This is what you wanted to say?

Arlecchino's eyes narrow. "What do you mean by that?" 

"Oh, come on, are you blind?" Your penchant for mockery shines through your words whether you meant it to or not. "Surely you've noticed by now."

"I don't aspire to become my mother," she retorts just a touch more harshly than she meant to.

"I meant it as a compliment, don't you realise?" you question, "The House has run this way for years because she made it that way. I'm sure many of the children she bought are itching to go home." Your musings lead somewhere—they must—and yet you insist on meandering your way there at a leisurely pace to draw it out. It's as if you wait and watch with eyes filled with curiosity for her to guess, but she makes no attempt to. "Will you return them to their families?"

Arlecchino considered it many times. The thought is appealing. It would be like setting her siblings—now her children—free. She grew up alongside them, played with them as a child and now presides over them.

Wanting to stall, Arlecchino takes a sip from the glass before speaking.

"No," she answers. 

It's not possible. 

If not a monetary figure or tangible reason, it quickly became a stark impossibility when she considered that someone would have to explain why the orphans the Knave had acquired carefully raised were being returned. 

Many would live in harsh conditions, some would die or merely be sold again, and some were too broken down by motherly love to find their peace in the common world again. 

It's not worth the pain of trying.

Something in her answer piques your interest, and she notices your hardly disguised intrigue almost immediately. Years of wearing a helmet to hide your emotions have certainly done a number on how much you are able to hide them naturally. 

"I thought for certain you would say yes."

"You were incorrect."

You quirk an eyebrow at her as if to challenge that idea. "Was I?" you question.

Were you?

"Yes," she says before she can think of anything to disprove that. Time made her aware of the many impossibilities she had spent years fantasising about, but she would not share that with you.

"You're certainly gentler than her," you remark, almost a passing comment as it's quickly overshadowed, "Less of a pain in the ass to talk to as well. I'd have to chase her for days to get her to come talk to me."

Arlecchino suddenly understands why the room is in such a state of disarray—you hadn't expected her. Instead, you were tearing your room apart under the impression you would have days to clean it up before she found her way to you. It seems that punctuality is a burden to you. If nothing else, it's motivation to never be late.

She finds herself aimlessly staring into the glass in her hand, a lesser part of her mind trying to determine what's in it, though too clouded by conflict to place an answer anytime soon. Instead, she stands and listens to whatever you insist on saying, lost in your words and the musings of the past, your unique knowledge of what came before her.

The observations of now the piercing gaze that threatens to spill her soul out before the two of you and dissect it as you please while she watches at the mercy of your rank, the lingering respect that refuses to leave her from years of seeing you as an ideal.

Talking to you is something quite bizarre; knowing you is something even stranger. 

She may never forget the time you spent intrigued by the young orphan who overthrew her mother to take her place at your side as your colleague.

CROSSPOSTED ON AO3

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (05)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, drama, OC cusses excessively so watch out

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

← Previous Chapter (04) | Next Chapter (06) →

***

Jungkook was in a daze the whole time you vented your feelings, but he miraculously snapped back to reality upon seeing you retreating.

You were walking away from him. Again.

"Wait!" Jungkook's hand attached to a dextrose trickled down with blood when he forced himself to stand, agitatedly running toward you. His stomach wound had barely healed. It hurt to the point where he fell to his knees, forced to whimper as he touched his bleeding stomach.

The stitches came undone. One of the nurses saw Jungkook. She gasped and immediately attended to the sick man.

"Mr. Jeon! Why are you running! Your wounds are bleeding again!" The nurse scolded. You couldn't miss it with how loud her shriek was. You were left with no choice but to look back.

As expected, a torrent of abuse escaped your mouth. You were predictable like that. Your heart was like the ocean as it was big enough to accommodate millions of creatures; one more stinky fish like Jungkook would not kill you.

"You're such a stupid bastard! Get up!" You ran back to Jungkook, your heart bleeding profusely at the sight of your pathetic ex-best friend. Perhaps you were wrong. One stinky fish swimming back to your life was equivalent to millions of gallons of oil spills in your ocean heart.

Seeing Jungkook in pain hurt you worse.

"Mr. Jeon, please get up. We're going to treat your wounds." Another nurse arrived with a wheelchair, assisting Jungkook to sit on it. Jungkook followed, but he gripped the hem of your shirt without the intention of letting go.

"Mr. Jeon," the nurse subtly rolled her eyes. She wasn't paid enough for this, making you feel embarrassed on behalf of said annoying patient.

"I won't leave." You assured but it didn't do much to calm Jungkook. He refused to let you go--one thing his past self didn't have a problem doing before.

"I promise, okay?" You let out a breath. You never broke your promises. Jungkook was appeased, having a taste of your promises earlier when you claimed you wouldn't have gone back to Incheon hadn't been for your vow to your precious Jisoo-unnie.

"You'll be here after they treat me?" Jungkook's voice was barely above a whisper. You couldn't remember your ex-best friend using this tone before, like a kicked puppy begging for love. 

"I will be, but not with him." you glanced at Soobin, who still had his ears covered. The little boy's brattiness knew not to cross boundaries. At three, Soobin already knew you were not some force to be reckoned with. No one (not even Jungkook) could handle an angry you as your attitude turned to something akin to that Japanese legend, Arahabaki. It was terrifying.

"Alright," Jungkook relented.

The nurses silently thanked you before leaving. You merely nodded before turning to your son.

"You can uncover your ears now, sweetheart." You kissed your son's tiny hands. They were very soft.

"Mama not mad?"

Your heart softened. You couldn't help but kiss Soobin again, "Of course not, mon amour. How about this? I'll buy you ice cream later if you promise to be good to Uncle Min. Do we have a deal?"

Soobin popped a thumbs up. "Bin-bin miss you."

"I'll miss you too, baby. But I'll only be gone for a few hours. Have fun, alright?"

You made the necessary phone calls after that. A few minutes later, an Aurus Senat car appeared in front of the hospital.

The car's window rolled down.

"Hi, Mam!”

You would be lying if you said you were pleased to be face-to-face with your boyfriend's assistant, but it's not like you had a choice. Your boyfriend trusted this assistant, so you, by extension, learned to trust him, too. You just didn't like his overly enthusiastic smile.

"I'll be back later tonight. Please take care of my son." You personally placed Soobin on the baby seat, ignoring the assistant's piercing gaze.

"Will do, Mam. You know how much I adore Soobin~~."

You didn't honor that with a response. You said a few more words to your son before gently closing the door.

The assistant was still looking at you. You rolled your eyes, wanting nothing but to wipe that smirk off his face.

So you did, "Tell my boyfriend I said hi. I terribly miss him. Best if he gets ready for me tonight."

That seemed to work. The assistant lost his smirk at once. He let out a choked hum before rolling up his window and driving away.

You knew it was petty, but you felt victorious as you made your way inside the hospital. The nurses told you it would take time before you could talk to Jungkook again. You thanked them, then sat patiently on the waiting bench, pensive about how you should discuss things with Jungkook.

You regretted losing your cool earlier. You got quite the temper—a persistent problem you had had since you were young. You thought having Soobin by your side somehow lessened your anger issues (maybe it did), but Jungkook seemed to bring out the worst in you and hurt you.

Right. Jungkook had hurt you multiple times. 

Seven to Six years ago; 2016 - 2017:

It was an auspicious time for you. Your thesis adviser during college wrote you a recommendation letter that landed you a spot in a prestigious university for your Master's degree.

"Ugh, you're going to school again." Jungkook pretended to retch, but he was fooling no one. Despite his hatred toward the education system, he still got you a present before your classes officially started.

"This is something I enjoy doing, you know?" You responded as you opened your best friend's gift. 

It was a customized ballpen with your name on it. Others might find it ordinary-looking, but you knew that this cost Jungkook a fortune.

"Seriously...?" You couldn't help but stutter a breath. "You're giving me an 18k gold pen?"

"Seriously." Jungkook wrapped your hand around your waist, pulling you closer and gently nibbling your ear. He whispered seductively, "I'll give you everything this world considers best." 

Jungkook's gift to you was from a luxury brand called Montegrappa. He understood how big of a deal this could be for others but not for him. The ballpen's price did not break Jungkook's bank at all. It did not even leave a dent because while you busied yourself with your studies, Jungkook grew his money through business.

Bighit's market share shot through the roof. You were an investor there but only held a small percentage of ownership. You only invested in Bighit to appease Jungkook, though you couldn't lie that even your initial investment profited 5000% more.

Jungkook coaxed you to invest more, but you learned the importance of diversifying your investment in your finance and accounting courses. You maintained only your initial investment in Bighit while putting its interests on various things: bonds, stocks, mutual funds, and more. You basically hit the jackpot after profiting from the Bighit.

Jungkook was the only one who remained loyal to Jimin, refusing to invest anywhere else.

The Bighit had gotten lucky in the past two years because of Jungkook's machinations. You weren’t completely lying when you said Jungkook was licking asses. It took many fancy meetings with other businesspeople before he successfully landed deals with them. You knew Jungkook was at the top of his game because even Jisoo, your older sister, was drawn into investing in Bighit.

Jimin wasn't exactly idle, either. Truthfully, he's busier than Jungkook since he recruited and managed company workers. In short, Jungkook enchanted investors while Jimin oversaw their business operation.

People like you were the ones who had it easy. The only thing Bighit needed from you was your capital. Admittedly, you barely knew how the company operated. You didn't bother with this, knowing your share was less than 20%. Instead, you focused on your studies for the next two years, and before you knew it, you were already on stage to receive your diploma.

But your heart was unhappy; your shoulders slumped as you looked at the crowd. There were two seats reserved for your graduation guests. Jisoo smiled reservedly at you as she occupied the chair on the left, but the spot next to her was empty.

It only meant one thing:

Jungkook did not attend your graduation ceremony.

You deflated. You really couldn't have it all. Jisoo didn't attend during your college graduation as she was busy with work. Now that you were getting your Master's degree, Jungkook couldn't attend.

"Hey, congratulations! I'm looking forward to seeing your next achievement!" The two most important people in your life might not be around at the same time, but your former thesis adviser was always present. He supported you in all your academic pursuits and considered you like his own daughter.

"Thank you, Professor Choi." You forced a smile, sad because of Jungkook and a little uncomfortable because of your thesis adviser's meaningful smile. The ceremony just ended, yet you felt Mr. Choi was planning something for you again.

"No worries, dear. The academe appreciates a rare talent like you. Actually..."

And there it is.

You couldn't avoid listening to Mr. Choi talk. Apparently, your former adviser initiated sending your work to different reputable universities. He said he sent it in passing, but Verlaine, a French professor from Sorbonne University, reached out to him because he had read your work and was hoping to connect with you and offer you a scholarship at Sorbonne.

"I don't know, Mr. Choi," you bit the inside of your cheek, pensive. You had just finished your Master's degree and were planning to rest for a while before pursuing a doctoral degree.

You wanted to travel the world and drink expensive wine with Jungkook. (And maybe sleep with him, too) Admittedly, you missed the feeling of Jungkook's warm body on you; you missed the high you got only when Jungkook whispered sweet nothings to you —the only thing that made you feel like you could conquer the world.

It's been a while since you last had a proper conversation with your best friend. The past few months had been crazy as you prepared for your final feasibility defense. Meanwhile, Jungkook skirted around the topic of 'fixing' a clause on their contract agreement with their associates and subsidiaries.

You learned not to pry regarding Jungkook's proper business; it's your way of showing respect and trust. You couldn't bear to fight Jungkook like you did years ago. That's too messy, and cajoling Jungkook was not for the weak. It's too troublesome. 

But now that you thought about it, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to enquire about the business's standing. Something might have gone wrong for Jungkook to miss your special day. You didn't think Jungkook would mind, considering you deserved an acceptable reason and a sincere apology.

"Jisoo-unnie," your eyes flicked at Jisoo. "Aren't you an associate at Bighit? How's the business these days? Did Jungkook and Jimin hold a meeting?"

Jisoo couldn't meet your gaze, but she forced out an answer. "There's been some lower management issues, but Jungkook-ah told me he's handling it well. Don't worry, alright? You know Jungkook. He'll get around it somehow." Jisoo offered a champagne glass to you, "Here, drink. We should celebrate and discuss your plans to study in France."

Your eyelids fluttered shut, smiling uptight. "I've had enough of this topic, Jisoo-unnie. Actually..." You looked around; the graduation party was far from ending. You were rapidly getting used to ditching your own celebration. "I want to meet up with Jungkook. Can you entertain the guests for me?"

Jisoo seemed to disapprove, but you looked too pitiful. You were many things; you were loud and couldn't pass two minutes without insulting anyone, a defense mechanism you learned when young. But Jisoo knew precisely what was under your edgy mask and sharp tongue.

You loved hard, and it happened that you loved Jungkook the most.

"I'll let you go," Jisoo tapped your back. "Call me, alright?"

"Thanks, Jisoo-unnie."

And that was how you found yourself in front of Jungkook's apartment. You even brought an unopened bottle of champagne Jisoo had gifted you which you couldn't drink as the police sirens assaulted your ear.

"What the f..." You gulped down the profanities in the presence of the law enforcers. It wouldn't do you or Jungkook well if you caused trouble. You blinked and rephrased your question, calmly asking the female officer why they were bringing boxes out of Jungkook's high-end apartment and where Jungkook was.

"We have a search warrant, Miss." The officer explained nonchalantly, probably not to worry a civilian like you. "We can't discuss the criminal case for now, but I assure you that Mr. Jeon is not in trouble. He is merely invited to the police station for a statement."

"How the fuck is that supposed to assure me?" Your temper flared up at once. The officer did not flinch and refused to explain further.

Agitation overtook your senses as you cursed yourself for not knowing anything law-related. You debated calling your lawyer but decided against it because Jungkook was not some fragile little boy. If anything, Jungkook was probably ten steps ahead of these officers. Perhaps he orchestrated this whole thing.

You looked around, too. Jungkook lived in a high-security place. No one here would dare blab the situation to the public. The neighbors kept their doors tightly shut, refusing to associate themselves with the investigation.

You did everything to reassure yourself and keep your sanity. You left the officers in favor of driving to the station, realizing you didn't need to call your lawyer or anyone else; you only needed to see Jungkook.

To your luck, you immediately spotted Jungkook outside the station, laidback and grinning widely while talking to two police officers.

"Jungkook." You never claimed to be a patient woman. You went straight to Jungkook and ignored the officers.

It was rare to see a surprise Jungkook, too. He arched his brow, mouth slightly parted as he took in your slackened jaw. "What are you doing here? Aren't you with Jisoo-noona?"

You felt yourself flinch. Since when did Jungkook start sounding and acting like your presence was a big burden?

"You didn't attend my graduation," you said resentfully.

Jungkook merely looked at you before switching his gaze to the officers; his smile returned as he bid them goodbye. After that, Jungkook simply walked away, ignoring you, who stood there dumbfounded.

This bastard—!?

"Jungkook, you shit!" You ran after your best friend and soon caught up with him.

Jungkook still didn't stop, so you had no choice but to block his way.

"What do you want?" Jungkook wasn't his usual goofy self. In fact, his voice was uncharacteristically cold.

You felt your heart leaping to your throat, your boldness cowering at the presence of a reserved Jungkook. You were none the wiser but were able to change tactics at the last minute.

You grasped his wrist, "What happened to you? Are you in trouble? Can...can I help you?"

Jungkook was taken aback, obviously not used to you being soft-spoken.

"It's nothing." Jungkook used his free hand to caress your cheek. They were cold. You must have ran just to see him. "Nothing I can't handle. Don't worry, your two brain cells can't understand it even if I try to explain it to—"

"I got my Master's degree today, you fucking bastard!" You were about to hit your best friend, which Jungkook immediately dodged. He had memorized everything about you, from your insults to your breathing to your movements—

"You did." Jungkook was an enigma, and gone was the cold haze enveloping him. He pulled you close to him and hugged you tightly.

—and even the rhythm of your heartbeat. 

"Congratulations on getting your Master's degree, sweetheart." He kissed the top of your head.

You stuttered a breath and punched Jungkook's chest. "You're so annoying. I don't understand you at all."

Jungkook chuckled lightly, drawing circles on the small of your back, and then he said:

"You're not supposed to. I love you; that's all you need to know."

It was, in fact, not all you needed to know. Days passed after your graduation, and Jungkook's business remained a mystery to you. You couldn't reach your best friend at all, so you reluctantly reached out to Park Jimin. Like Jungkook, Jimin was also unreachable.

"What the fuck is happening?" You cussed, feeling your blood running hot. You were pissed and were kept in the dark. Jungkook hadn't gone this long without contacting you. It was already bad enough when Jungkook acted all hot and cold during your graduation day; Jungkook even refused to cuddle with you that night, opting to just talk to you in your living room. When you woke up the next day, Jungkook was already gone. You received no news about him since then.

You flopped down the couch, remembering Professor Choi's advice, "You're too hotheaded, dear. It will one day be your downfall. Why don't you calm down before opening that mouth of yours? Are you familiar with the 4-7-8 breathing technique?"

It had gotten so bad back then. You were defending your research paper before the panelist when you felt your temper flaring up. Luckily, Professor Choi was there to call for a short break and pacify you.

Looking back, Professor Choi's advice was of great help to you. You could apply it now, so after settling on the couch, you breathed in and distracted yourself by watching the news.

Wrong move.

The headline sent you into a spiral, "Breaking News: Bighit, a start-up and a unicorn company, turns out to be the second Enron of this generation."

You couldn't breathe, yet you forced yourself to understand what was happening. If you remembered the lectures in your MBA courses correctly, then Bighit was compared to a unicorn because of its rare success in the business world (much like a mythical unicorn), with Bighit being valued at one billion dollars or more in just a few years of operation. 

It was a good thing, but the headline did not stop with just that. Bighit was linked to Enron, too, a bankrupt company that committed fraud and ruined countless lives.

How could Jungkook's company be linked to something diabolical?

You refused to believe the news; regrettably, all evidence stated otherwise. You checked the stock price per share of Bighit, and your jaw dropped, seeing how much it had fallen. The news was cut short, though a few minutes later, it televised Park Jimin walking out of the police station. Your lips quivered while watching Jungkook's beloved hyung look like a pale ghost; his eyes barely opened because of how flashy the camera flashes were.

You didn't know where to go or who to call anymore. You couldn't barge into the police station like you did days ago. The place was crawling with reporters, and for once, you made use of your brain, afraid that your fragile temper would burst and make the situation worse.

For a while, all you could do was wait.

***

It was established before that you had the patience of a three-year-old. You couldn't sit still, so you did the only way you could think of to talk to Jungkook: you bought a large amount of Bighit's share over the counter. Ango Sakaguchi, the previous stockholder from whom you brought your shares, did not hesitate to sell his shares. Although Ango looked at you as if you were crazy. Bighit was at risk of getting delisted from major stock exchanges; the value of its market per share was basically at the basement of a rock bottom.

But you did not care. Being a major stockholder at Bighit guaranteed you a seat in the company's board meeting. Truth be told, you finally saw Jungkook, Jimin, and even your Jisoo-unnie during the emergency meeting.

"Dear, what are you doing here?" Jisoo was surprised to see you, but you merely looked at Jisoo, whom you also couldn't contact these past few days.

"My client isn't participating in this meeting as a board member but simply as a shareholder who values her contribution to the company." You had come prepared by bringing your lawyer and letting him speak on your behalf. You might not know a thing or two about the law, but you didn't get your MBA degree for a show. You knew the threats that came from buying Ango Sakaguchi's shares.

Unlike Jimin and Jungkook, you and Jisoo were merely stockholders who funded the business. You did not oversee the operations of Bighit, so now that the company was in trouble, the only problem for you and your sibling was the threat of not getting your investment back.

You and Jisoo were invited to today's meeting to discuss the order of priority in the payment of the company's liabilities as well as its threat to be delisted by the Security and Exchange Commission. (SEC)

The meeting commenced. Your focus was not on the speaker but on Jungkook. The latter did not bother to shoot you a glance; his attention focused solely on the meeting and Jimin.

You clenched your fists. This was not the time to be jealous, but the green-eyed monster had long engulfed you. 

"The SEC gave us 90 days to pay our legal obligations. First to the taxes we owed, then the unpaid wages and other benefits of our employees, followed by our outside debtors, and lastly, our shareholders." Jimin announced. He also filled in the board members and others about their pending criminal case.

You slouched on your swivel chair, listening intently to your lawyer, who was whispering some legalities to your ear. Your eyes were shooting holes at Jungkook, though.

You tilted your head and raised your hand.

"Yes?" Jimin turned to you.

"I am abandoning my shares."

Now, that caught Jungkook's attention. Your best friend looked you dead in the eyes, his jaw ticking, but he refused to speak.

Jimin sighed, "You owned a significant number of shares in Bighit. Are you sure you want to forfeit your rights to any remaining assets?"

You did not respond at first and just twirled in your hand the golden pen Jungkook gifted you two years ago. Your lawyer spoke on your behalf, "My client does not care about the money. She wants her shares to be liquidated and used to pay the company's obligations. We humbly implore you to prepare an agreement to honor my client's request."

Jimin was about to agree, but Jungkook beat him to it.

"Bullshit." 

The curse reverberated through the meeting room. If this was an ordinary day, you would surely respond with twice or thrice Jungkook's cuss, but you were too hurt by Jungkook's silence these past few days that you chose to shut up.

"Dear, have you thought about this?" Jisoo couldn't help but interfere, too.

Your lawyer cleared his throat and answered for you again, "The matter has been discussed thoroughly by my client and me. No one here needs to worry."

Jimin felt the tension's thickness, so he tried to cut through it, "Very well. This is highly appreciated. Atsushi, please draft the agreement with Jisoo’s sister now."

The meeting continued for two more hours before Jimin adjourned it. Everyone started to leave, and you told your lawyer to be on your way, too.

"See you soon, Mam." The lawyer nodded and left.

You remained seated in the swivel chair, lightly turning as you watched people leave until Jungkook was the only one left.

Jungkook stood up and made his way to the door, but you pretended to be unconcerned. Your heart was in your throat, though.

But your trepidation didn't last long when you heard the lock click in place.

You exhaled and twirled your chair to face Jungkook, who was leaning on the door with his arms crossed.

"So what now, shithead?" Your silence was only reserved during the meeting. Now that you were alone with Jungkook, you couldn't help but bark.

The corner of Jungkook's mouth ticked. "Classic you. Are you that desperate to talk to me that you wasted millions so I can throw you a bone?"

You weren’t wearing your choker, but you felt as though something was squeezing your neck. You found it hard to breathe.

"You think you can agitate me with your words? I've been too hotheaded, haven't I?" You stood up, slowly but heavily trudging toward your best friend. "Well, guess what, shitty Jungkook."

It was instantaneous. You grabbed Jungkook's shirt collar and slammed him on the wall. Jungkook's eyes rolled at the back of his head because of how hard you had pushed him.

"You can tease me all you want, but between you and I, you know who fucked up, and it isn't me."

Something flashed across Jungkook's face. If you were to name it, it would probably be pain, but you couldn't be sure as it was gone in the blink of an eye.

Jungkook smirked.

"Why? Because I didn't run to you crying about how I fucked up? You would want that, wouldn't you?" Jungkook laughed mirthlessly. "Over my dead body."

You were wrong. It wasn't pain that flashed on Jungkook's face. It was anger. After all these years, you realize that Jungkook had not fully forgiven you for saying he had made the wrong decision of venturing with Jimin.

Suddenly, you lost your will to fight Jungkook because this wasn't just about Jungkook ghosting you. It was about Jungkook building his walls against you.

You let go of your best friend at once, and then you took a step backward, defeated.

But Jungkook wasn't done with his attack. Years of frustration had bubbled up, and now, it exploded.

Jungkook's Adam's apple bobbed. It looked as if it took everything in him to say what he needed to say, but it still didn't prepare you for the pain that would shoot your heart and soul.

"I slept with Jisoo-noona."

One sentence, five words.

You and Jungkook had been friends since you were five. You had said hurtful words to each other before—all of which you didn't mind much. How could you, when you knew your words hurt Jungkook more?

But this…this was different. Nothing could ever top this betrayal.

"Y-You…" You choked back a sob. Fury and hurt crawled from your feet to your neck; they were like a knife blinding your eyes with one swift cut.

The tears obscured your vision. You couldn't (didn't want) to see Jungkook's expression.

You cast your gaze on the floor, watching your tears stain the cold tiles.

The silence was suffocating. Neither of you could take it anymore.

"You know," so you shattered it. "I might be a cussing machine, but I'm not as cruel as you, Jungkook."

You balled your hands into fists, forcing yourself to meet Jungkook's gaze. Just this once. You wanted to look at Jungkook and let him see just how much he had hurt you.

"I don't know shit about your company, but I know one thing." You smiled sadly, "I know I was wrong to believe you love me."

Once, someone told you, 'I love you; that's all you need to know.' Then, he proceeded to break your heart after.

"You—"

"But if you insist that you love me, then…" You cut him off. "Take it away because I don't want it. I've got no use for your disgusting love."

With that, you left, ignoring all calls from Jungkook and your Jisoo-unnie. You only answered one text, and it went like this:

To: Paul Verlaine I accept the scholarship. When can I leave for France? ***

A/N: Hi guys, apologies if there are so many boring jargon, i tried to minimize it as much as i could, but they’re mostly imperative for the story to progress, so i couldn’t fully eradicate it. This chapter is a bit funny to me because honestly, I am so OC who couldn't forget lectures I've learned during college 😆 I've written SO MANY academic papers because of that company's scandal.

anyway, i’ve mentioned before that this fic is originally a bsd fanfic, so the oc is patterned to chuuya nakahara, please stop sending me anon message complaining that oc is cussing too much and she overdoes it because I know. she is supposed to be that way and trust me when I say it is also imperative for the plot. you will come to realize that in the following chapter, but if it really annoys you, please do yourself a favor and stop reading this fic. there are so many fics out there which are much more well-written and would not annoy you. read that instead. thank you ~~

as usual, comments are highly valued! i’ll edit this chapter later, my eyes are hurting now huhu

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