#he'd tell you half sister :P

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter Four: Desolate Days

Heiress of Gotham

Masterlist | Previous Chapter

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: It’s time. The funeral has finally come around. While the expected have shown up, will the unexpected lead to loose threads in your life? It'll certainly raise questions, that's for sure.

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: Funeral, Depression, Threats, Crying, Angst,

Mentions of: Death, Bodies, Trauma,

A/N: While this chapter is angsty, and the next one contains some twists and turns, I promise it'll actually start to become more fun around chapter six once the reader gets settled into her new life!

It wasn't easy, not by any means; a week full of setting up a funeral, at fifteen, for your mother... the only real family you've ever had. Sure, there were close family friends in your life, but they weren't a constant presence, not like her. All that flew out the window when you'd been orphaned, and now, who knows what will become of those relationships. You figure, only time will tell.

As for the actual events, tonight is the viewing, followed by a dinner at a nearby Italian restaurant you guys used to love, and tomorrow morning is the burial. While there'd been lots of talk about who would come and what it would mean to them, and you, the conversation never fully came to any certain conclusion.

You don't know and aren't close with your new siblings, and while from a publicity standpoint it makes sense they should come and show their support, your Father is really the only person who knew your Mother. Even then, how well did he truly know her? The question stands. With all this in mind, you know that Bruce is accompanying you tomorrow, and by extension, Alfred too. That much you're clear on.

Money is a tough subject. Isn't it for everyone? While you weren't rich growing up in Bludhaven, you also weren't in the degree of poverty that some are, either. Nevertheless, funerals you quickly learned, cost a lot of money. You'd think it'd be one thing to bury someone in your backyard (if you had one, that is), or even toss them in the dumpster (not that you'd do that), or even set them afloat on the river and nearest ocean (that either), yet, the government wants their money. That's always what it boils down too, doesn't it? Regardless, Bruce had been suspicious when you brought up paying for the funeral. He offered, and while you'd argued for a good half hour, you'd finally compromised with him.

He wants to pay for the funeral, and you can keep the money you--somehow--have for college. Apparently, he expects you to do that now, as well. Not that college was outside of the question before, but... you still have three years to think about it, don't you? All in all, he let you pick out what you thought your mother would like, which, ultimately sort of became what you'd like... right? Besides the preferences in her will, there was still the matter of some sort of plaque or headstone, obsidian or silver... the works. Trying to keep money in mind, you didn't go crazy, but you did let him deal with it while still trying to give her at least something fairly nice.

It all happened so fast, really. Picking out everything, setting things up, and sending out a message so your family friends would know when and where to show up to pay their respects if they wished to do so. Not many people knew about your recent transfer of guardianship, or rather, to who. And while there had apparently been somewhat of a civil kerfuffle with your mother's best friend in an attempt to waive Bruce of his fatherly duties, Bruce apparently decided to claim custody of you. That's what social services naturally thought was the best fit for you.

"You don't have to go in if you don't want," Dick speaks up from behind you.

Standing outside the doors to the funeral home, you know that all too soon the doors will open up for her viewing and you won't be able to escape. Regardless of how many people show up, you'll be met with stories, jokes, emotions, conversation, and things you're just not ready to handle. Staring at the doors, Damian walks past you, soon followed by Tim as they make their way to the door.

"Sure she does. Maybe not now, but sooner or later you have to," Tim offers you with a sympathetic smile, "otherwise you'll never forgive yourself."

"That's just his regret talking," Jason accuses as he straightens the lapels of his black vest and follows the younger boys. "You do what you want, kid." A pat on the back, he too heads inside, leaving you there, Dick still lingering over your shoulder.

"It's your decision," the Detective reminds you with a sympathetic and encouraging smile before pushing open the doors to the funeral parlor.

Standing there in your short black t-shirt dress, the hem whips in the wind as a storm brews in the distance by the Fawcett-Bludhaven border, eventually destined to head your way, closer to the ocean, no doubt. Though you're adorned by a simple black headband, the accessory doesn't keep your hair from hanging around the frame of your face, eyes glued to the fancy sheen of your church shoes: a pair of black mary-janes. 

"Are you second-guessing?" The gruff voice of your Father emanates from your side and you raise your eyes to meet his face. There's a forlorn and distant look in his eyes as he stares ahead at the double doors leading toward the place you know the two of you will be met with a familiar face.

With a subtle nod, he mirrors your action, a clearing of his throat as he straightens his tie. "I can't say I blame you. Though, I can make you an offer," he proposes. As he turns his head, you're met with knowing blue eyes, a hint of what you swear is mischievousness behind them. "If you ever need to bail, why don't we have some sort of code? A code word, what about that?" He expands, the furrowed brows on your face cluing him onto your thoughtful mentality.

"I have to think about it," you respond quietly, eyes roaming the property. While Bristol is an eclectic part of Gotham for sure, this part of town feels somewhat desolate. The nearest and nicest open-plot cemetery to Bludhaven, it was a compromise on everyone's behalf. Not far enough from Bludhaven to feel unlike home and lack a means of public transportation for those in need, and not one of the buildings in the city that are more mausoleum-like, an option you hadn't wanted to consider. She deserved something better. A rumbling of thunder echoes throughout the landscape, the sky growing dark in the distance; eyes brought to the weather, your mind churns. "What about... 'Blizzard'?" It wasn't totally innocuous, yet it wasn't entirely improbable either.

"It'll definitely be interesting to see how we manage to work that into conversation naturally," Bruce jokes, to which you offer him a quiet chuckle, the inkling of a smile working its way onto the corners of your lips.

"Is that okay?" You ask, unsure if he approves.

"Blizzard it is," the Billionaire agrees, stretching out a hand in a semblance of kinship. With a moment of consideration, it doesn't take long for your hand to meet his in conciliation. With a firm shake, you both turn to enter the parlor side by side.

--------

Hand clutching the prized middle-school graduation gift you'd received from your Mother, a golden chain necklace with a teardrop image of La Virgen on it, you subtly run it back and forth along the chain where it rests on your sternum between your collarbones. Despite uncomfortable conversation and questions, you hadn't needed the code word. The attempt to try and visit your Mother before the service was unfruitful, people having shown up earlier than expected, others wanting to set up and you consequently helping like the obedient little girl you often were. Nevertheless, even now with only family members remaining, you still stand at a distance where only her hands propped up on her waist are visible.

Bruce had gotten by through making conversation, trying to get to know you and your acquaintances through their association and knowledge, though their questions often turned on him. Upon the revelation that you're not only now, but always have been a Wayne dawned on them. The natural questions would tend to follow. 'How well did you know her? Were you close to her?' As much as the Playboy would love to admit he didn't know your Mother on the level it would seem most people assumed, he also knew that sort of answer might tarnish any image of your Mother that these people already had in mind. Hence, he tended to use his usual tactics of evasion in a similar manner to any gala he'd attend.

The boys ended up doing recon in some sense, all in their own versions. Damian had intended to simply find a nice corner to sit in and text Jon about the plans for their next hangout and fill him in on the dreadful activities he's been put up to on the behest of his new 'sister'. If he could even call you that. Tim hadn't been filled in on the situation concerning your little expedition with Jason and what the elder had found during that time, so when Dick naturally seemed curious and a little too snoopy for his taste in concern of the event, it was only upon questioning his brother that he found out about the circumstances.

Dick went into this with the hopes of finding out information on your family, on what you all knew, the type of people you were, and what they knew specifically about you and your Mom. That much cash laying around even with the excuse of not trusting banks, in Bludhaven of all places, was ridiculous. Especially for the job he dug around and found out your Mother had. Therefore, he took to subtly interrogating people under the guise of attempting to get to know his new little sister better. 

Jason had intended to go only on the purpose of supporting you, and watching his family in suspect, considering they've all seemed dubious of your Mother and your family's involvement in some sort of criminal activity. While he'd been curious, watching you, talking to you, he's found that there's probably not much further whatever 'secret' your family is hiding goes. Sometimes people do things they need to do to survive, and if he's heard any stories about your Mother this evening, he'd suspect that's it.

Damian eventually caught wind of Grayson's not-so-subtle tactics of questioning people, and decided his evening would be much more fruitful doing exactly what his brother was doing, only in a more professional manner. After all, once he'd rounded the parlor he'd seen his Father doing the same thing in his own fashion, therefore, he can't be mad at them for doing the same when he's the one who's supposed to be setting the example, right?

Oblivious to your new family's motives, you try and work up the courage to say goodbye to her... to her face. Evading the happy images that filter through wild transitions on television's slideshow to the right, you run a thumb over the memorium card you'd taken. Even if they were for everyone else, you still wanted one. Room practically empty, you finally take the leap and close the space between you and the open casket.

Immediately you have to avert your eyes. It's... too painful. Yet, another curious part of you tempts you to take another look. Upon second glance it simply appears as if she's sleeping. Peacefully. There's no lacerations or marks, no sign of any sort of ill-wrought event, and yet, you know the wiser. "I hate this," you whisper through your teeth, jaw clenching in an attempt to keep your tears at bay. "It's not fair. I don't know why... why it had to be you." With a sniffle and a heavy sigh that bobs your shoulders, you reach out and place a small hand on her larger, and eerily cold hand. "I wish I could ask you, that I could talk to you- that you could tell me why- why you never told me! I don't- I don't want to do this but I know I have to, and he's giving me... all you ever wanted for me. I-" Breath coming quicker, you have to force yourself to speak the next words, determined not to break down in front of everyone. "Te quiero mucho, mamá, te extraño, y vas a recordar para siempre." With a gentle squeeze to her hand, you turn and head for the doors, eyes downcast as you avoid everyone.

--------

Somehow, the universe always reflected its events; while it’d been mostly thunder and heat lightning the night prior, this morning the dark clouds have been pouring rain. Alfred had gotten you up, though really you hadn’t slept much in anticipation of what today would hold. Having been dressed for some time now, all you’ve done is sit at the window seat and stare outside, watching the rain pelt the earth repeatedly, unyielding in its triumph. You can’t help but think it’s like life, forceful until the end, when it eventually wanes and succumbs to a stop. Maybe you’re overthinking, but with everything that’s been going on… you don’t think you can help it.

“Hey,” your Father’s voice calls from the door, a gentle knock on the wood follows as he continues to open it and step through the threshold. “Are you ready? Breakfast is waiting, and then Alfred’s gonna take us,” he informs, “the boys are going to join for breakfast, but then it’ll just be us, alright?” 

Before he can get too far into the room you rise from the window seat and tear your attention away from the gardens. With a nod, you meet him halfway and follow downstairs.

Breakfast is mostly silent, as you’re sure no one is quite certain what to say. If they could say anything, that is. Hell, even Damian doesn't have a snarky remark, and Dick doesn't try and make meaningless conversation. It all comes and goes far faster than you'd imagined, though the food was delicious. With your departure and solemn looks from your newfound siblings, Alfred pulls the Rolls Royce up to a gentle stop before the Manor's fancy double doors.

It was hard to believe she was in there. Yes, you'd picked out the coffin, yes you'd seen her at the viewing, and yet... this is your Mother. The woman who birthed you, who fed you, who took care of you year after year, and was there for you no matter what. And now... she's gone.

It doesn't feel real. The rain pattering against the umbrella Bruce holds up over you. All the people who sit and stand opposite of the priest as he goes about his rites. Of course there came time for the eulogy, and while there was the option of making one yourself, you couldn't find it within yourself to do so. Like Tim had mentioned, this could be something you may regret later, but in this moment it feels like too much. There's a dull queasiness that never leaves your stomach as you stand, eyes cast downward as your hands lay clasped before you. Rain, muck, and mud cling to your black mary-jane shoes, the ground now beginning to flood as the soil's beared all it can soak up for the next coming weeks. 

People come and go, they give their well wishes and hopes for your sake, and yet you can't really put any of it to mind or manner as all you can focus on is the growing emptiness within you. This isn't how things were supposed to go. You weren't supposed to be burying your parent... not this soon. That's not how it works! 

It's the call of your name that stirs you from your thoughts. Eyes raising to the familiar face, you can't help but feel your eyes widen with the shock and astonishment that they had the audacity to visit... to stay. Yes, he wasn't a stranger; yet an acquaintance isn't necessarily a friend. The boy lifts his hands to cup one of yours between his. "I'm so sorry to hear what happened, Mi Amor, I'm always here for you, sabes," Saul says. Though there's a sympathetic look in his eyes, you don't trust him one bit. Not after he'd taken one opportunity after another and gotten trapped up with the man behind him: Antonio 'Angel' Marin. Sure, you'd dumped Saul before he'd become affiliated with the notorious Bludhaven mob boss, but it didn't do him any favors holding company like that. 

As Saul leaves you and heads toward the line of black cars along the cemetery road, you dread the man next in line. "It's an unfortunate thing, losing a mother," Angel speaks, "looks like luck had its way with you though, getting you out." From the outside it might seem inappropriate, or perhaps simply a mistaken and poorly judged comment, but you know better. Lips pursing, jaw tightening, you don't dare let your hands form into fists as you meet the man's eyes. 

His oily face and ratty mustache meet your gaze, and you suddenly feel anger beginning to simmer in your gut. Though you're not sure why. While there'd been a time you may have considered him a family friend, a protector, a genius, and a revolutionary... those times have gone. He hadn't done your family wrong, in fact, he'd done nothing but try to help you and your Mom out of poverty, and yet... there were always strings attached. Neither of you had seen them at first and once you'd wanted out, you'd luckily gotten out without too much of a fight. Thankfully, unlike some of the stories you've heard, and yet, somewhere within you the anger persists. Maybe it's the smug look on his face, his taunting words perhaps, but whatever it is, he irks you.

"Don't go gettin' into any more trouble, ya hear?" His thin voice lets out a wry chuckle and he lays a pat on your shoulder before you can dodge it. Watching him leave with his trail of two or three choice goons behind him, you can't help but feel like he'd only come here for one thing, and one thing only... to taunt you. Was it a warning? A sign? A way of telling you that without his protection you were doomed? Leading a life toward failure? Only to end up like your Mother? No... no, that can't be it. There has to be something else, that can't be it. 

"Do you know him?" Bruce asks, finally speaking up for the first time since the service ended. He'd seen the whole interaction, he knows who that man was... but he doesn't know if you do. Not truly, anyway. Even if the grimace and shiver that'd run up your spine was visible from the way you attempted to evade the evil man's touch. Eyes peering down at you, he's disturbed by the lack of eye contact you make. Maybe he shouldn't be... you haven't been talking or interacting as much as you had been in the days leading up to this, something that's normal, he can only imagine.

"Once," you respond faintly. Eyes coming back to the rolling hills of the cemetery you watch the rain continue to pour. Life doesn't seem to stir here, no sight of sneaky intruders like squirrels, doves, or robins, no other patrons coming to visit their loved ones on a day like this. Thunder cracks overhead, and the diminishing sound of tires on gravel signals the Angel's departure. With a thick swallow, your hands finally ball up into fists. A single tear finally breaches the confines of your eyelid and slips down your cheek. With a heavy sigh you turn, meeting Alfred who stands a few feet behind the both of you. Stomping over to him, you grab the bouquet of flowers you'd all picked up on the way. "If you want to say anything... here," you announce over the sounds of the thunderstorm. Undoing the plastic and rubber bands from the store-bought bouquet, you hand both the men a single flower. Determined that the rest should belong to you, you head over to the grave, uncaring if you get wet any longer as you're no longer under their umbrellas.

Though your teeth hurt from the way your jaw is clenched, you can't help it as the tears start to flow more freely. With everyone gone, you don't mind being here alone. Placing the flowers atop your Mother's casket, your hand lingers on the polished wood while your free hand hangs onto the necklace your Mother had given you. "I can't do this without you," the words come in a whisper, your head almost meeting the wood before you think better of it. You don't want to appear a broken-down mess in front of the men watching. "I don't know what t-to do."

Raindrops soak your hair, coat your dress and shoes, your socks have splashes of water and freshly cut grass, not to mention that your face is covered in a mixture of raindrops and tears. A few moments of silence is all you need before you finally gather the courage to say one last goodbye and turn away, heading down the hill back toward the car before the storm gets worse.

------

"Dick... there's something you should know," Bruce mentions quietly. It's obvious from his behavior that he's upset, that this won't be a long conversation. "Antonio Marin was at her funeral. He came up to her and spoke something cryptic. I asked her about it and she said that she knew him once. I know I asked you all not to dig around, but, this is in your territory and I thought you should know." Evading his son's eye contact, he straightens his tie and sniffs, still clad in his tuxedo from the funeral. "I'll see if I can get any more information out of her, but... I don't want her caught up in this... I don't-" he sighs, finally turning to meet his son's gaze again with a look he's only seen once before, "-I don't want her getting hurt."

"I... understand." With a nod and a sympathetic look upon his face, the younger man stretches out his hand to lay it on his Father's shoulder in a small form of comfort. He knows Bruce well enough to know that anything too grand would steer him away, and while the thought of another child getting hurt at his behest unburies all the trauma Dick knows Jason's death had brought him, Dick knows they can't change the past. "I- we won't let that happen. I promise you that, Dad."

~~~~~~~~

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#hog #hog series #heiress of gotham #heiress of gotham series #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #dc comics reader insert #my writing #dc comics reader insert series #batfam x sibling!reader #batfam x reader series #batfam x reader #sister!reader #batfam x sister!reader #jason todd x sister!reader #dick grayson x sister!reader #tim drake x sister!reader #damian wayne x sister!reader #he'd tell you half sister :P #wayne!reader #my series #tw: funeral #tw: angst #tw: crying #tw: yelling #tw: death #tw: dead body #tw: depression #tw: trauma #tw: threats

[alocon]

Incredibly Irresistible [4] - Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

written by alocon

Summary: Despite all hope, Lando never lost his feelings for his best friend's twin sister. However, he still hadn't acted on it. Well, that was until the party, which led you two into a long-term secret relationship

Warnings and Tropes: Fluff, part 4

[Part One Here] [Part Two Here] [Part Three Here] [Masterlist]

Irresistible - LN4 x Fem!Reader

After the night that Max found out, you realised that there wasn't really anyone else who you worried about finding out so you decided to be a lot less secret about it, especially in the family scene. Being invited to a family dinner was the perfect opportunity to tell people who you are dating, you decided. When you got the call from your mother, you asked.

“Oh wait I do have a question,” you had said when she asked if there was anything else you wanted to know. It was common knowledge that you could bring your partners to dinner, seeing as Max brought P often.

“Alright, sweetheart, what is it?” Your mother responded, curious as you never usually had any questions.

You looked at Lando who was sat on the bed with you, nervously playing with your hand. You had told him about your family dinners before, and he said that he would, of course, be interested in coming if the opportunity was there. “I've been in a relationship with someone for about a year and a half. Would I be able to bring him?”

“Absolutely, you can. A year and a half, darling, why didn't you say anything before?”

“You know what Max gets like, right? How he's very overprotective.” She hummed in agreement for you to continue. “Well, he'd get like that… but maybe a little worse than usual.”

Lando giggled, whispering under his breath “mhm, a little.”

You chuckled before hearing your mother excitedly say “is that Lando? Can I say hi to him?” You watched as Lando quickly leant over to take the phone from your hand as you passed it to him, beginning to talk to your mother.

“Yes, Mrs. Fewtrell. I'm great thank you, how are you?... I have met her boyfriend, he's very nice. Quite an attractive man too if I do say so myself.” You could only hear one side of the conversation but you rolled your eyes at the cockiness as he winked at you. “I'd like to think so, yes. From what I've seen, he really is in love with your daughter.” He grinned at you, blowing you a kiss. “Ah, I'm not sure if I'll be able to attend the dinner, I'll have to check, but I'm pretty sure I might be having dinner with my girlfriend's family that day. Yes ma'am. Well I'm sure you'll see me soon, don't worry. I miss you too. Goodbye.”

He passed the phone back to you, grinning ear to ear.

So that's how you ended up sat in your UK house, getting ready for family dinner with your boyfriend, who was definitely freaking out about making a good impression despite knowing that your entire family absolutely adored him.

“Yes but what if I mess up or they're disappointed that you're dating me or-” you cut him off with a kiss, getting slightly fed up with his waffling. He kissed back and you felt him relax slightly in your embrace.

Pulling away from the kiss, you placed your forehead to his. “Lan, try your best not to worry. You know they already like you.”

He nodded softly. “I know I know. I just don't want them to react how Max did.”

“Well, let's hope they don't. Ready to go?” He said yes, grabbing his phone and keys.

The drive was silent, Lando having been overthrowing quietly, which was evident by the way his index finger tapped against your knee as his hand ranted on your thigh whilst he drove. You placed your hand on top of his and he smiled gratefully as he finished parking.

Turning to you, he smiled softly, the nerves still very evident in his face. “I really hope this goes well.”

“Don't worry. They love you already.”

“Not as much as you do, I hope,” he said with a chuckle.

You rolled your eyes as you both started walking up the driveway towards the door. “Who knows. Maybe that's why Max was so pissed.” You heard the oh so familiar giggle leave his lips as you knocked on the door. 

It didn't take your mother long to open the door. “Hi sweetie, I've missed you!” She instantly hugged you and then pulled away, looking at Lando. “Lando? I thought you couldn't come. And Where's your boyfriend? Did you two split up?”

Lando spoke up before you could. “Actually, I remember saying that I was having dinner with my girlfriend's family…”

“Exactly. So why are you?” She paused mid sentence, looking between the two and gasping. “Oh my god. Wait. You two are together?” You nodded, Lando grabbing your hand nervously before a squeal could be heard and you were both pulled into a hug. “Come on in, you two.”

You walked into the house and to the dining room, seeing Lando look a lot calmer as people's eyes lit up once they saw him. Well, except Max. Max was avoiding your gaze for now. You greeted P with a hug and everyone except her and Max seemed a little surprised at the two of you being together. Your older brother, Sam, made a joke about not having to threaten your boyfriend, at least, because he had been around long enough to know the threats. That made Lando relax the most.

“So,” your dad said, looking between the two of you as you sat together on one side of the table together. “How long has this been going on?”

“Since July 2023.”

“A year and a half?” Your older brother said, looking at you. You nodded. “Why didn't you tell us?”

“Because I knew that if it got back to Max through someone who wasn't us, he wouldn't be happy. I mean he wasn't happy anyway but what can you do?”

“I would be happier if you weren't sleeping with my best friend.”

“I didn't complain that you started dating P.”

“Right, let's not. Max, remember what I said about being on your best behaviour, yes?” Max nodded in response to your mother as she turned her attention to another topic that wasn't Max's distaste. “Why did you decide to tell us now?”

“Max found out and we realised it was better to be honest. I'm sorry we didn't tell you guys. We hadn't even told my family until yesterday, to be honest. We had dinner with them and that's how they found out.”

“No problem. I think we're all just glad it finally happened. It took longer than me and your mother thought, that's for sure.”

You looked at your boyfriend, and then back to your parents. “What do you mean?”

“Oh please.” Your dad chuckled softly. “You two have been head over heels for one another since you were like 13. Especially Lando.”

Lando coughed slightly, looking away from your gaze which shot straight towards him. “13?”

“Yeah,” your mother was next to speak up. “It was like, you know how some girls have crushes on their best friend's older brothers? It was like that but Max's older sister instead.”

“She is barely older.” Max finally spoke up in the conversation.

“Still older. 3 hours is 3 hours.”

“Anyways. I'm pretty sure that boy fell in love with you the first time he met you. I remember overhearing him asking a bunch of questions about you when I walked past his door.”

You laughed. “I think I was the same about him, to be honest.”

Lando looked at you, seeing your eyes already on him. “Really?” You nodded, causing him to grin, almost slightly shyly as he squeezed your hand. 

“I honestly never thought I'd see this day. Mum, Dad, Max, I believe you owe me £20.”

You looked at Sam, shock on your face. “You made a bet on us?”

“We did,” your dad responded. “Max's vote was never so I think he might be a little biassed.”

 Your family ended up loving the fact that Lando and you were together, just as you had suspected. Once you both offered to wash up together, Lando had made a comment about you being right. You talked about how glad you were that Max didn't make any snarky comments about you two, as was expected when you first turned up. That didn't, by any means, mean that he had gotten over his anger, though. He actively avoided your gazes and was being a little petty, as always. You swore quietly at Lando as he flicked more water in your direction. You flicked some back. “Behave, you.”

He walked closer to you, playing his chin on your forehead, arms wrapping around you. “Where's the fun in that?”

You dried your hands, turning around to hug him back. You felt his hand playing with your hair. “I love you. I always will.”

You smiled into his chest at his words. Pulling away from the hug, you looked into his eyes. “I love you too. Always.” You leant up to press a kiss to his cheek before pushing a towel into his hand. “Get to drying, you're distracting me.”

“Yes ma'am. On it,” He responded, moving away and grabbing a plate to dry up.

From the doorway, your mum stepped away, leaning against the doorway for a moment whilst she watched you two act so domestically with one another - almost as if you had been together for years. Messing about, talking, actually getting stuff done, being sweet. She headed back to the living room, shutting the door as she sat down. The was quiet until your dad spoke up. “I'm happy they are together.”

“I'm not,” Max replied, rolling his eyes in frustration at them.

“Max. Why do you have such an issue with them?” Your dad asked, putting his drink back on the coffee table.

“Because he's my best friend and she's my sister. I know what he's like and he doesn't stay in relationships for longer than a year usually. Plus it's weird, he's meant to be my friend!” Max looked surprised that his mother and father seemed so happy with it.

“They've been in love for years, Max. Anyone can see it. Don't you think they would've been together a lot longer if they didn't worry what you would think?” Max stayed silent at the words of your mother. “Seriously. Despite being older than you, your sister looks up to you. She sees all three of you as some of the closest people in her lives. Plus, you met P through your sister anyway. So you really can't complain because it's kind of hypocritical, Max. She loves P and loves that you guys are together, as do all of us, so seriously, you need to realise that Lando will treat her well and you need to respect it.”

Max sighed. He looked at his family. “Do you all really like them together?” Everyone agreed, including P. “Really?” He asked his girlfriend.

“Yes, Max. You should've seen how worked up she got when you tried to make Lando choose between you and her.”

“You did what?” Sam asked, now looking at his younger brother with a sense of disappointment.

When the two of you left later that day, after spending some time with your family, you spent the evening watching films and talking about the past couple of days. Not only did your family really like Lando, his family also absolutely adored him. You had spent an hour sat talking with his sister about horse riding, you had spent some time with his mother whilst she taught you how to knit, you had spent some time throughout the previous day with each member of his family, including his niece.

The pair of you sat on the sofa, your head on his shoulder as you watched Cars together for what felt like the thousandth time over the past few years you had lived together. “Do you have any objection to us making our relationship public knowledge?” He asked as you watched.

“In what way?”

“In a sense of people knowing about us, but not knowing every detail or anything, just knowing that we're in a relationship. I want to be able to hold your hand when we are out in public and to be able to hug and kiss you and stuff after races, you know?” He looked at you, placing his forehead gently against yours and bringing his hand up to hold your face. “If you don't want to, we don't have to.”

“I'm happy to make it public knowledge. You don't understand how much I've had to hold back on kissing you whenever you've got a podium.”

He laughed, getting out his phone. “Maybe I should just hard launch us on my Instagram.”

“If you do, I will too.”

He grinned, opening his gallery to a whole album of photos just of you and the pair of you together. “Deal.”

----

landonorris

Hozier - Work Song

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landonorris: I'm only me when I'm with you ❤

tagged: youruser

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youruser: I love you ❤

landonorris: I love you more ❤❤

user: TO HOZIER?

user2: When I tell you I screamed!! youruser: user2 same-

oscarpiastri: 2nd cutest McLaren couple

landonorris: cutest McLaren couple**

alex_albon: I believe this is what the kids nowadays call a "hard launch"

landonorris: "kids nowadays" makes you sound old youruser: He is,, another double date soon?? lilymhe: Yes, message the group chat we will plan something! x

user2: Did not have "Lando in a relationship with his best friend's twin sister" on my bingo card.

carlossainz55: Finally done something about the massive crush you had on her since you were 13, I see?

landonorris: I told you that in confidence. charles_leclerc: Mate it was kind of obvious. maxverstappen1: You looked at her with heart eyes whenever you were in the same general vicinity as her

----

youruser

Taylor Swift - Lover

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youruser: ❤❤

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-comments limited-

landonorris: I love you so much ❤

youruser: I love you❤

lilymhe: Cuteeeee

youruser: ❤

riabish: So unexpected but so cute

youruser: Thank you! x

pietra.pilao: Adorable 💕

youruser: xx

maxfewtrell: Message me please.

youruser: 👍

-The End-

-Word Count: 2,143 (not including social medias-

Hi all! Hope you're well, here's another part of the Lando series!! Hope you enjoyed, have a good day. There will likely only be one more part of this!! Alocon

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando #ln4 x reader #lando norris mclaren #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #ln4 one shot #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris one shot #lando norris fluff #ln4 x you #ln4 x y/n #ln4 fanfic #ln4 mclaren #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren racing #f1 fanfic #formula one

[winchester-girl67]

Raven Eyes

Summary: Half-Demon and half-angel, the reader struggles to control her outbursts of anger. Until she meets someone who makes her blood boil in a whole other way. She searches for her half-sister, Claire, with the help of the Winchester brothers and finds that, maybe, being human isn't all bad.

Requested by @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld : “Hey can i request a Dean or Sam Winchester x reader where the reader is a Nephalem (half angel half demon) and super powerful because Nephalem are the most powerful hybrid and Dean or Sam fall in loved with her because she is so sweet, shy, etc and in the end they end together? With smut is you want to added"

Pairing: Dean x Nephalem!reader 

Word Count: 11,913

Rating: mature 18+ MDNI

Warnings: not canon, language, mature themes, reverse age gap (kind of), violence/blood (gun, biting, restraints - Claire is tied to a chair), smut (p in v, unprotected sex), brief mention of body insecurity, injury, nightmares, maybe some anger control issues, angst, a little pining, kissing/cuddling, reader has one defining characteristic (raven eyes), star wars trilogy spoilers? (brief mention), mention of Sam and Dean slash fiction

A/N: This really got away from me, especially the word count, lol. The reader has both sweet/shy moments and bold/sassy ones; but I thought it was a good mix of energy for an angel/demon hybrid. Enjoy!

_____

Ugh...

You kicked the empty can under your foot down the dark alleyway. It landed in a puddle with a splash and you growled and kicked the glass bottle next. It shattered against the brick wall at the dead end, scattering into a myriad of pieces that rippled the top of the same puddle. 

Finally, that felt great. 

You just needed to break something. So, you did it again, lining up the next beer bottle. This one, full and unopened. You'd brought it outside with you from the bar you were currently venting behind. 

Alcohol did little to nothing for you, you were pretty sure the only buzz you ever got off it could be chalked up to a placebo effect. 

The bottle hit the wall, popped, and fizzed as it streamed down the bricks. The amber liquid staining a trail to the pavement below. It was somewhat satisfying, but... you wanted to break more shit. 

So much more. 

It was the demon’s blood in you, the urge to create chaos and torment just for fun. Although, ninety percent of the time it lost out to the half of you that was part angel. 

You didn't want to be evil and you didn't want to be good. You were all shades of grey and that was fine because you knew exactly who you were. Sort of. 

You were a Nephalem; half-demon, half-angel. 

Yeah, your parents were a piece of work. Try growing up in that household. Literal definition of having an angel on one shoulder and a devil -or in this case, a demon- on the other. 

But opposites attract, right. 

You never really fit in. As a child or now as an adult. Not with your father's angelic colleagues or your mother's demonic friends. You were one of a kind. 

'Unique. Unlike any other.' Your father would tell you.

'Powerful. A force to be reckoned with.' Your mother would say.

You loved them, your parents. Even if they drove you nutty and pulled at your limbs like some savage game of tug-o-war. Castiel and Meg had good intentions but you needed to stand on your own two feet for the first time.

So, here you were hanging out in the back alley of some highway dive off to the side of some two-star motel. Popping the cork on your own internal bottle of frustrations. The blood in your veins could only be shaken so much before you lost control and that was the point of breaking shit.

To calm your nerves and it usually worked, but not tonight. Tonight was different.

Your -sort of- half-sister, Claire, called you up for some help on a case she was working on. Fucking werewolves. She needed back up but when you arrived you couldn't find her. Anywhere!

When you asked the greasy bartender if he'd seen her and showed him her picture on your phone, all he said was 'I wish I had, damn'. Then he proceeded to shake out his hand as if he'd touched something hot and made a crude face with a little wink added in your direction... you almost ripped his face off right there, but there were too many witnesses.

A waitress flirting with some guy with more hair than a barbie doll and some guys playing pool; one of them obviously hustling the others. He was kinda cute actually -had a nice smile, short dirty-blonde hair and a scruff on his jaw that was way too trimmed to be natural- but you weren't here for that.

You had to find Claire.

You fisted your hands until your fingernails dug into your palms and bleed. Then hissed and watched the skin stitch itself back together under the orange flood lights of the alleyway.

That helped a little. The pain. You did it again, satisfying the demon within and hissing out a breath at the sharp sting each nail made as they buried into your flesh. Then. You breathed in and out like your father taught you. Slow and steady.

Inhale: one, two, three... Exhale: one, two, three...

Then repeat as many times as it takes to appease the angelic grace entwined within your soul.

When your blood was at war it felt like the epic internal battle of a Jedi struggling with the force -you had forced your father, Cas, to watch the recent Star Wars trilogy with you a couple of days before you left to meet Claire and really connected to the Kylo Ren/Ben Solo character and his dilemma of whether to embrace the pull to the light or give into the dark side- but a nephalem didn't have that choice. The only solution was to embrace it all, whatever murky shade of grey that turned out to be. But there were times you still struggled with it, times you wished you had more control over your heart and mind.

Times like now with that fucking bartender. Who even has frosted tips anymore, seriously?! What a douche.

He knew something and he wasn't telling you, you could hear his heart beat just a fraction quicker when he lied.

You let out a frustrated howl and kicked at the puddle, splashing and jumping until your boots and pant legs were soaked. You growled and fisted your hair in your hands and pulled. Frustrated to no end.

"Now that's a losing battle, if I ever did see one." Said a husky voice and you spun around to nothing but shadows behind you at the mouth of the alley.

What? "Who said that?"

"Don't get me wrong, that was entertaining as hell but that puddle's always going to be a puddle." A man stepped out of the shadows with a twisted smirk. "Unless you have the right tools... Maybe a mop and bucket." Oh, he thinks he's funny. You didn't laugh, you glared and he stepped directly under the flood light near the rear door. He pumped his eyebrows once and rubbed the trimmed scruff on his chin. "Geez, tough crowd. Why you so pissy, squirt?"

"Fuck off." Your guard was up.

"Big language for such a little girl. You're trouble, aren't you?" He said with a deep laugh. He fucking laughed. And took a step closer when you didn't respond. "You kiss your momma with that mouth?"

"My mother would rip you to shreds just for sneaking up on me."

Seriously, how'd he do that? You were usually hyper aware of your surroundings... but you were also in your head, duelling it out.

He looked you up and down, his eyes lingering on your wet jeans sticking to your calves. His tongue teased his bottom lip and he met your stare again. You scowled knowing exactly what he was thinking and crossed your arms in front of your chest to obstruct his view.

"You got some fire in you, squirt."

Screw you, pretty boy.

"Call me, squirt, one more time. I. Dare. You." You said through clenched teeth and stepped out of the puddle, bringing you chest to chest with this man.

Okay, maybe chest to chin -you still had to look up at him- but you weren't as small as he made you sound, at least you didn't think so. But one thing was for sure, you were a lot older than you looked, probably older than him... but you were kind of immortal too, so there was that.

You looked near the same age though, for what it's worth, and you felt young. Out from under your parents' -hypothetical for the most part- wing for the first time. No more babysitter.

He looked amused, "Okay, little trouble. Wanna tell me what's got your feathers in a fluff?"

"The hell do you care?"

His expression turned emotionless like a poker face, "Maybe I don't." Then he smiled, "Or maybe, I do."

You knew where you'd seen him before now, playing pool inside, "How'd you do with your little side hustle?"

"Oh, I cleaned up," he smirked, he saw you watching him inside. "I'm Dean, by the way... Winchester. And you are?" He asked, keeping his arms crossed against his chest and mirroring you.

"Leaving," you said quietly and unintentionally shoving your shoulder into his as you walked for the exit of the alley.

Fucking Dean Winchester. You knew exactly who he was, you just didn't know what he looked like, until now. Your father warned you to stay away. Said he was the type to shoot first and ask questions later and if he found out you were a nephalem, that's exactly what he'd do.

"Hold up a second, squirt." He called as he jogged after you and grabbed your arm.

Dean yanked you back and you spun around, twisting out of his hold. You smacked him in the chest and he shoved back into the brick wall. Hard. You always forget how fragile humans were, you didn't spend much time with them after all.

He huffed like the wind had been knocked out of his lungs. His eyes wide and watching you. Yeah, you were strong as hell and that was only ten percent. You felt a little bad for the poor guy but he did ask for it. You clearly wanted to be left alone.

"I told you not to call me that!" You growled, pointing your finger in his face. "I don't have time for this."

"Why? Got some mailboxes to knock over?" He teased and rubbed his chest when you backed off. "Oh, please tell me you're gonna spray paint obscene doodles on the billboard across the street... I'll help. Need a lookout?"

If he was flirting, it wasn't landing and if he was teasing, it was pissing you off. You weren't some teenager tagging billboards, even if that jackass CEO, Dick Roman, deserved it. You didn't know why, you just didn't like him or his cheesy smile, but he'd get his, they usually do. 

"What do you want?" You huffed at him, glancing down at his hands just in case. 

You heard the stories of the Winchester brothers. They weren't opposed to sucker punches, especially with an angel blade. Even if an angel blade could hardly hurt you, your mother trained you to always be prepared, vigilant.

"You were asking around about a blonde girl, Claire Novak, I'm a friend of hers. Actually, more like a big brother and I haven't been able to reach her." He confessed and took a step forward, then another and another until you were the one backed up against the opposite wall of the alleyway. "What do you want with her?"

For a human, you had to admit, he was fucking intimidating. His eyes hooded, nostrils flared and you felt his hand fist the collar of your t-shirt. You could easily push him off if you wanted but the brush of his knuckles over your collarbone made your knees knock together and you practically swallowed your tongue.

The feuding blood in your veins quieted as your heart beat a little faster and sweat broke out across your skin. Your lips fell open and you just stared up at him. At a loss for words.

Was this what it was like to feel... human? Desire? Vulnerability?

But you weren't vulnerable, not physically, your power outmatched that of a nephilim. Nephilim had the inconvenience of having to be half-human where that half of you was all demon. Pure darkness and indignation.

Being a nephalem wasn't easy. Especially being the only one ever known to exist. You had to carve your own path.

You had a conscience about the bad things you did and a will to do good, but nothing was ever that simple. You'd do a good deed to appease the angel grace pumping in your veins but it would always turn out sideways. And when you did something bad -perhaps out of selfishness and greed- you'd feel bad.

Demons had it easy. Do what you want, when you want. Angels had it even better though, their good always turned out good. Despite the fact that not all angels were all that good and not all demons were all bad.

If they couldn't figure it out with one blood line, how would you?

You felt like you were constantly at battle with yourself. But, at least, you weren't human.

Compared to the man in front of you, he was like a fly. A gnat. And you'd toy with him for a bit if he could keep making you feel this way.

Calm.

The crimson waters in your veins were quiet -for the first time in sooo long- and all you had to do was look into his eyes. They were hooded in the darkness of the night but you felt it, his soul staring back at you. You often wondered if you had a soul.

Probably, everything else seemed to have one.

Perhaps, not everything about being human was terrible. It beat the hell out of the internal anguish, always fighting with yourself, always angry. And suddenly you never wanted Dean to leave. Even if your father did warn you about him.

Maybe humans were powerful after all. Maybe, it was just this one human.

You grabbed his wrist above his watch -his fist still clutching your collar- and exhaled over his lips, only an inch away from yours. His breathing turned sharp too and you smelt whiskey on his breath. Peach whiskey. You gave him a cheeky smile.

That was a chick's drink.

"Why are you looking for Claire?" He repeated, his eyes somehow darker in the shadow of the night.

"She's my friend," you lied, continuing to pretend he had you right where he wanted you.

It was really the other way around.

"You're friends?"

You nodded, "Yeah, some people have those."

You kind of wished Castiel had told Dean about you. It wouldn't come as such a surprise then. Maybe you could hide it, though, and tag along to find your sister. It could be fun to watch the brothers in action. Plus, everything was so quiet around him. Even in his intensity and you didn't want it to stop.

"Claire doesn't have friends." He stated.

"She has at least one."

He didn't need to know that you were kind of related to Claire, just that you didn't mean her any harm. Most of the time. Sometimes she pissed you off and sometimes you pissed her off.

"Wait, friend as in 'friend'?" He said as if he used air quotes but he didn't let go of your shirt collar to actually make them.

What the hell else did 'friend' mean? -Ohhhh... good for Claire. But gross, she was your sister. You had flashbacks to reading fanfics of Sam-slash-Dean online. Your father told you to stay away, but you were curious and although it may not have proven for the most serious intel on the boys, the stories were captivating. 

You scrunched up your face and stared at him. You couldn't tell him you were sisters. So, you just shook your head.

Dean laughed, "Huh, didn't know that kid could stop pissing people off for a second long enough to make a friend."

You nodded but frowned when he released your shirt collar and took away his hand. If you had wanted him to back off, you would've made him. You kept a hold of his wrist.

"Let go, little devil."

If only he knew how ironic that nickname was. You were the daughter of a demon not Lucifer but, same diff; it was close enough.

You let him go. You didn't want to, but you did.

"Do you know where she is?" You asked, both wanting to keep the conversation going and needing the answer.

"Nope. Was hoping you did."

"The bartender knows something." You mumbled.

You breathed a heavy breath, letting the anger from before defuse a little as it tried to resurface. No losing control this time. Your parents weren't here to help you this time. No cleaning up any messes. You were on your own. Like you wanted.

"Let's go talk to him, then." Dean grinned and patted your shoulder.

His hand slid down to the small of your back as he led you back around to the entrance of the bar. Every ounce of anger flushed away with his touch and you no longer felt that inch of demon blood in your veins.

_____

Dean wiped the blood from his knuckles with a rag from the trunk of a shiny black muscle car parked in the lot. You stood next to him and watched stoically as he did so. He glanced up at you and mistook your awe for fear.

"I'm sorry. I should've warned you when someone messes with my family, I get-" He started in a soft voice but cut himself off before he could finish. "Just sometimes, things get... messy."

Messy?! He beat the ever-loving hell out of that bartender when the guy hit on you again and evaded all your questions... Until he didn't.

Dean was just as fucked up as you were. He was angry and at war with himself, constantly, you could see it. You saw that look in the mirror all the time. He took the bloodiest route to being good. He was all shades of grey, just like you. And you had to admire how much he cared about the people he thought of as family.

"Don't ever let a man disrespect you like that." He locked eyes with you.

Something different in his gaze this time. Warmer and intense. Too intense, you had to look away.

You never did let guys get away with it, but you couldn't exactly go all super-girl on the bartender's ass either with Dean watching, now could you? Super-girl was a hero, though... You weren't the villain but you weren't the heroine either. Maybe an anti-hero, actually? Like Ben Solo? You could live with that.

"So, what now?" You asked, sitting on the edge of the open trunk next to him. "We go to this Haden-guy's cabin in the woods? Sounds like a trap."

The bartender said Claire had her eye on some regular guy all night but never talked to him. Though, she did leave right after he did. That was the only lead we had since this shit-hole had no working security cameras.

"Exactly, that's why we're gonna get Sammy first." He said, tossing the bloody rag into the trunk and securing the hidden hatch shut after pulling out a case of silver bullets.

Sammy, his little brother, you knew as much about the boys as every other demon or angel. You just didn't know how being around Dean would affect you.

"Where's Sam?"

Dean gave you a half smirk and a little shrug of his shoulders, then he winked at you. And what the hell did that mean?

Oh wait, you suddenly remembered seeing a walking L'oreal-ad-of-a-man, matching Sam's description, flirting with the waitress before stomping out to the back alley to have your little temper tantrum like a child. You blew off steam though without hurting anyone so you weren't embarrassed. That was a win in your book.

"I'll go get him, you wait here." Dean said, cocking his freshly loaded gun with silver bullets and tucking it into the back of his jeans. "Don't disappear on me, little devil."

You smiled, actually starting to like that nickname as you watched him walk towards the motel across the parking lot. He knocked on room number sixteen and waited a long moment before he pounded harder on it.

You stretched out your legs and pushed up from the edge of the trunk but something kept your ass in place. Like you were frozen, sort of, you could only move further into the trunk.

Something was wrong.

You glanced back quickly before Dean could notice you struggling to stand up like an ordinary human. You twisted in your seat but there was nothing unusual in the trunk, then you looked up at the lid.

Fucking hell.

There was a demon trap on the upside of the trunk lid. You glanced back at Dean who was now striding back towards you on bowed legs.

Shit. You twisted your arm above you and scratched at the edge of the trap. Glad that the front of the car was facing Dean instead of the back. 

"He'll be out in a minute," Dean said, rounding the back of the Impala just as you snapped up from your seat and slammed the lid shut. He narrowed his eyes on you, "Everything all right?"

"Yeah, peachy." You dusted off the back of your black skinny jeans ungracefully.

"O-kay," he stared at you for a moment as you shifted from heel to heel, "Get in the car."

You walked around to his side of the car, knowing Sam probably had dibs on the passenger seat and opened the rear door. You hesitated and looked inside, checking for more demon traps.

"Something wrong?" Dean asked and you noted Sam exiting the motel room, he walked towards you as he buttoned up his blue flannel and straightened his jeans. "Don't tell me you're scared?"

"Hardly," you said unconvincingly and crawled into the backseat when you didn't see any reason not to.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, Baby here is stocked up like a tank, we can take whatever's waiting for us. Trust me."

He was cocky, wasn't he, but it made you laugh. He had even more artillery than he thought, with you around.

Dean shut the door behind you and dumped himself into the driver's seat, Sam joining only moments later.

"Uh, hi?" Sam said to you, half turned in his seat.

"Hi," you waved shyly.

He was a lot bigger in person. The top of his head nearly hit the roof and his hair was gorgeous and thick. You played with the ends of your hair, wishing you had less split ends. Maybe you should cut it. Also, what kind of all powerful nephalem still gets split ends?! Talk about unfair.

"She's a friend of Claire's." Dean said, revving up the engine and peeling off down the road.

You didn't know how he knew where he was going. You didn't look at any maps with him. Maybe they'd been here longer than you and already surveyed the area? Claire probably called them too, you didn't have a cell phone and relied on her praying to you when she needed you. She didn't always trust you'd show up and she wouldn't have told them about you.

"Does 'the friend of Claire's' have a name?"

Sam asked his brother and side eyed you.

"Yeah, of course she does."

"And?" Sam inquired.

Dean hesitated and chewed his lip as he glanced at you in the rearview mirror. He never asked. "What's your name, little devil?"

Sam screwed up his face and mouthed 'little devil' dubiously to himself. You guessed it wasn't a typical nickname he gave women.

"Y/N."

You didn't give a last name. You supposed you didn't really have one. Castiel and Meg could never settle on one long enough.

"Y/N," Dean repeated in his deep voice. It felt like wings in your stomach to hear him say your name. "You don't look like a Y/N."

"Well, it's the only name I got." You snapped, a little hurt. You liked your name, it was the only thing your parents ever truly agreed on.

Dean chuckled and glanced back in the mirror again. "You’re cute when you're frustrated, Y/N."

The dork was teasing you. He either thought he was funny or flirting, you couldn't tell which. Maybe both, you didn't like it. It was new territory for you. You didn't often bother with humans, but Dean was different. He was a lot like you in many ways and he was -mostly- adorable. When he wasn't intentionally trying to be annoying. 

You blushed -first time that ever happened- and kept quiet for the rest of the drive. Dean explained to Sam what you were about to walk in on and they already seemed to know it was werewolves so you didn't bother to pipe up.

The woods were dark and the sound of wind eerily howled through the treetops. You'd have shivered if you were scared at all but you couldn't be harmed, not really. Someone would really have to get the drop on you for that to happen. And what else was there to be scared of?

You only worried about Dean. It was nice having him around. You realized now why your father liked him so much. You didn't know Sam all that well, though and he kept giving you ‘off’ glances as if he was trying to figure you out. As if he knew you were hiding something.

Barbie doll was too smart for his own good.

"Here, take this?" Dean said, shoving a silver gun in your hands after he'd parked down the road from Haden's cabin.

"Uh-" you held it between your forefinger and thumb, as if you really didn't want to hold it. You never used a gun before. You never had to and you rather not. "I'm good, thanks."

You tried to hand it back to him before it went off. As if it was that touchy. He just stared at you confused.

"You need something to defend yourself. You have done this before, right? Hunting? You're a hunter?"

"Yeah, totally!" You over sold it.

Sure, you hunted before, but you used your powers and let’s face it, nothing was ever a challenge. Even a pack of werewolves couldn't take you. You could fight and hold your own but you never needed a gun.

But how could you tell Dean that?

You stared at the gun, still holding it in the air between you and he sighed, "Here, hold it like this."

Dean stalked behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. You felt his chest on your back and you leaned back into him. Looking over your shoulder at his face next to yours. He let out a single puff of air, amused, and turned your head forward again with his hand on your chin.

His scruff brushed your cheek as he lined up the gun in both of your hands in front of you. You smelt sweet peaches on his breath again and melted in his arms as much as you could without him really noticing.

"Finger off the trigger. This hand-" he grabbed your non-dominant hand and wrapped it around the other already gripping the gun, "-goes here. Keep your thumb there." He pointed to the switch next to your thumb, "Safety's on," he switched it off, revealing a red dot in its place, "Off. Line up this point with this one." He pointed out the sights of the gun. "Never point it at anyone you don't plan on shooting. Got it?" 

"Got it," you breathed. 

Dean switched the safety back on and let you get used to the feel of it in your hands. You could use this hunk of metal one time, you guessed. 

If a human could then why not? You were superior in every way. Super-powered anti-hero in human disguise to the rescue! 

It was quiet outside in the woods as you inched towards the cabin. And before you knew it, you were inside searching for signs of Claire when you heard the boys bashing around in the other room. Grunting and smashing into things. Glass breaking and shots firing.

You had split up and with no sign of Claire you made your way back to them to help out. Finding Dean pinned by three werewolves while Sam fought off one with another on his back trying desperately to bite his neck.

The pack was bigger than the boys anticipated. And brawling. 

You didn't expect aiming the gun to be so difficult and after missing the first couple shots -hitting the drywall in front of Sam and scaring the shit out of him, which he showed with a glare in your direction and a shout of 'Stop helping!'- you aimed again. At the werewolf on Sam's back and shut your eyes.

You squeezed the trigger fast three times then listened as a body fell to the floor.

Thump.

You grit your teeth together, hoping and praying and peeled open your eyes.

Sam was still standing. Thank granddad. Dean would've hated you for friendly fire. You aimed at the werewolves standing over Dean next and emptied the rest of the clip into them. 

They fell to the floor and Dean fought off the last one as Sam finished off the other. 

Then things were silent again. 

"Holy shit! Good shootin', little devil." Dean laughed and fell against the wall to catch his breath. 

Sam just clenched his jaw and glared at you. 

What was his problem? Did he know you closed your eyes? You aimed better that way anyways. 

"Where's Claire?" Sam grunted and rubbed his neck where the werewolf had tried to bite him. But his hand was covered in blood, "Dammit."

"What?" Dean asked, standing tall and glancing at Sam's hand. "You're bit?... Sammy?!" 

Dean's hands were in his hair and he spun around on his heel in disbelief. Then stalked over to his brother and pulled aside Sam's shirt collar.

"No. Fuck, no!" Dean shouted and punched the wall next to them. 

Then he threw the only lamp left standing across the room. It shattered in his fit of rage and he pulled down the bookcase for good measure. 

You set down your gun and padded over to Sam. Sam, eyeing you the whole time with zero trust in his stare. You popped up on your tiptoes and pulled him down by his shoulders to whisper in his ear. 

"Close your eyes." 

Sam furrowed his brow while Dean was busy hyperventilating in the corner. Rubbing his hands all over his face and scrolling through contacts on his phone, probably trying to find some non-existent cure.

But Sam was bit and Sam would turn if you didn't do anything.

"Trust me for one minute. What do you have to lose?" You whispered again and Sam let his eyes fall shut.

You placed your palm over the bite and channelled your energy into healing him. A blue light pulsed from your hand and Sam hissed. It probably stung like a bitch. But it beat turning into a werewolf and having to munch on cow hearts just to survive.

You wiped away the blood from his neck with your sleeve, inspecting your work. The skin was perfectly smooth like the wolf's fangs never punctured through.

You smiled, finally something went the way you planned. Doing good felt good, when it went right.

"How do you feel?" You asked just to make sure.

"Better, I guess." Sam's eyes fluttered open and met yours. His gaze of hazel softer than before, though still hesitant. "Thank you, I think."

"No biggie. Just a little spell I picked up over the years." You shrugged. You didn't think the boys noticed the lie.

Them thinking you dabbled in witchcraft was probably safer than them knowing the truth. At least for now.

Dean stood up, hanging up his phone mid-ring and walking over to Sam to check out his no longer existent wound. He glanced at you and you noticed his itchy trigger finger at his side.

"You're a witch?" Dean accused as if you kicked his puppy.

"No."

"Bullshit! That wasn't elementary magic, Y/N!" He shouted but still didn't raise his gun.

"Dean, calm down, man. She saved my life." Sam said, stepping partially in front of you. "Just this once, don't freak out how you always do."

Huh, save his life once and the big guy's already on your side. A turn of events you didn't see coming. Maybe there was more to him than just barbie doll hair and fault-finding glares. He knew you were hiding the truth but he didn't seem to care anymore.

"Shut it, Sam." Dean gave his brother a sideways look. "You know how I feel about witches. Blood sacrifices, hex bags and bones everywhere. There's always a price with them."

He gestured towards you and you scowled back at him. Not only a little hurt because you just said you weren't a witch but also because... didn't he feel what was between you, too? Or was it all one sided?

Maybe you should've let Sam die. He'd still think you were human then. You could've hidden that part of you forever. Or, at least, until he started to notice you weren't aging.

But, no, Sam was cool. You were glad you saved him. Maybe you could erase Dean's memory of the past five minutes. You never tried that before but it should be possible, right?

"'M not a witch," you mumbled and watched your boots. "I'm not bad, I want to be good."

That was true. It was the most honest you'd been with a human or anyone ever and you really wanted Dean to like you. Maybe this was the way to go. With honesty.

"I could've hurt you. I could've killed you both." You glanced up and met Sam's hazel eyes then Dean's green ones. "And I wouldn't need the gun to do it."

It was a bit of a threat, but an honest one. And they both seemed to get the weight of your words when neither one of them looked away. They looked anxious like they didn't want to be caught off guard by your next move.

"I'm on your side as long as you're on mine-" you cut yourself off thinking you heard something.

There it was again. Like a banging in the distance. Did they hear it too? You furrowed your brow when you noticed Dean was speaking.

"What do you-"

"Shh," you cut him off and titled your head towards the noise to hear better.

Dean took a couple steps towards you. A glint in his eye.

"Did you just shush me, little dev-"

"Shhhhhh!" You shushed, pressing your palm over his mouth and listening intently.

Dean raised his eyebrows and you felt a smirk tug at his lips, which he clearly failed to hide and Sam huffed out a laugh at the scene.

"Do you guys hear that?" You asked but didn't remove your hand from Dean's mouth so he just shook his head.

"What is it?" Sam inquired.

Dean rolled his eyes and muttered something muffled. You flattened your hand over his mouth more and he groaned but didn't move away. He looked silently amused. Maybe, even... turned on?

"Claire," you said and the boys' eyes widened.

You walked away from them, towards the back of the house and then outside. Sam followed first, nearly tripping over your heels as you led him towards a shed at the edge of the property. Where the banging got louder to the point where you knew they could hear it too.

Dean came up from behind, all man-on-a-mission like, and pushed you both aside. He tried the door knob and when it didn't budge he proceeded to throw his body against the door. But it was sturdy as hell and he was only human.

You put your hand on his shoulder to stop him. Dean puffed hard and gave you a questioning look.

You punched out the deadbolt and twisted the knob until it gave way and the door slowly pushed open.

You smiled up at him and held out your hand as if to say, after him.

Let him go first. Let him feel useful.

He puffed out his chest and squared his shoulders. Silly, little human... but cute, silly, little human.

Dean took the opportunity and entered first, gun drawn. Sam next. Then you padded in afterwards, seeing Claire tied to a chair that was bolted to the ground.

Her wrists were bloody and raw and her nose looked busted. You scrunched up your face, hating seeing her hurt like that and waited for Dean to first untie her before you made your way over to her. 

Claire ripped the duct tape from her mouth, "About time you showed up," she snapped at you. 

"You were supposed to wait for me." You growled back, already feeling that anger bubble up within again. "Ungrateful, little-"

"Thank you." 

She must've seen the surprise on your face and started laughing. 

"It's way too easy to bust your balls, Y/N, lighten up a little, would you?" She smiled and you saw the blood dripping from her nose and staining her teeth. "I'm starving. Got anything to eat?"

Sisters are a pain in the ass. You didn't care if you were supposed to love her. She was beyond difficult and she knew it. But, you did still love her.

You touched her forehead, fingertips humming and glowing blue for a moment as you healed her. You didn't care if the boys saw, they already knew something was up.

And after everything, you wouldn't be so easily dismissed if they decided you were a threat. Dean was yours -you decided- but you wouldn't force him even if you could make his life a living hell if he didn't want to be a part of yours. You needed him to keep those parts of you quiet and he was damaged, too. He could use you, too. You could help him; help each other. You could try. But would he let you? If not, maybe you could be satisfied with just checking up on him from time to time. 

You hesitated a glance up at Dean, expecting contempt in his eyes. You should probably leave, take the memory of the way he calmed you and use that as an anchor, don't sully it with the look he'd give you now. Or when he found out what you were -who you were. But you couldn't stop your eyes from finding his. And you couldn't decipher the look.

"I need a drink," Dean started, "and a burger." He looked at Claire, "I'm phoning Jody." Then back to you, "And we're gonna talk about this. All of it."

You nodded and waited for them to lead the way back to the Impala. You hung back with Claire.

"Do they know?" Claire whispered over to you.

You shook your head, feeling what could only be described as bubbles in your stomach. You decided it must be butterflies. You never had them before now.

What was Dean doing to you?

The more he looked at you the more you felt the way humans were supposed to feel. But you didn't think you were changing at all, not on a molecular level, anyways.

"Are you gonna tell them?" She asked.

You shrugged, you didn't want to talk about it, you didn't want to think about it. Claire didn't seem to understand and continued. As sisters do.

"Do you want me to talk to him? Maybe Castiel could-"

"No." You answered flatly.

Your mess, your problem. You didn't want your father cleaning things up for you again. Although, this time things were different, cleaner. You could keep it that way. You wouldn't hurt them and you wouldn't force them.

You wouldn't use your powers against them at all; you promised yourself.

"Cass?" Dean overheard and turned around to walk backwards. "You know Cass?"

Fucking Claire.

Don't lie. Don't lie. Don't lie... -Okay, little lie. Tiny little white lie. Teeny-weeny. 

"No-"

"-Yes." Claire answered at the same time as you.

Fucking sisters, you scowled to yourself.

"A little," you corrected yourself.

That wasn't a lie, was it?

"Mmm," Dean sighed and pointed. "No more lying, little devil."

"Oh, for the love of-" Claire exhaled way harder than necessary. She had less patience than you. You would've thought she was half demon. "He's her father!"

"Claire!" You growled.

Don't kill her. Don't kill her. Do not kill her!

You glared.

Inhale. Exhale.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks, you didn't notice until you ran face first into his chest.

"Ouch," you grumbled and rubbed out the pain from your nose.

You were all powerful, sure, but you still felt pain. And your eyes watered.

"Your Cass' kid?" Dean grabbed your shoulders and really looked at you. "How?"

You didn't look much like your father. You had Y/H/C hair and raven eyes. If it weren't for the whites around your eyes you could pass as a demon even when you didn't lose control. That was the main reason everyone was always scared of you. You looked -you laughed at yourself- like a little devil.

You could act like an angel a hundred percent of the time and as soon as they found out you were part demon and nephalem, not nephilim, they'd only see that and scatter.

Bite the bullet. Come clean. But if Dean didn't like you as a witch then-

"Remember Cass had that demon girlfriend?" Claire continued, as always, not minding her own damn business.

"Meg?" Sam asked, he'd stopped too.

The fucking car was right there. Thirty feet away! So close, yet might as well be an ocean away.

"So, you're a nephalem?" Sam asked again.

Did this guy live in a monster library?! Seriously, didn't he know someone with such great hair shouldn't be a total nerd, too. Like give the less L'oreal-inclined a chance, for crying out loud.

You didn't know what to say. You couldn't deny it and you refused to defend yourself to measly humans who'd probably still judge you by your eyes despite anything you said.

So, you nodded. And you realized Dean was still clutching your shoulders, a little tighter now that you noticed.

"Cass and Meg?" Dean said aloud like he was trying to process the information but his brain wouldn't let him.

You didn't dare move a muscle, not because you were scared but because you were scared of scaring them off. So, you just kept your eyes on his green orbs. Willing him to feel anything other than contempt for the demon blood inside you. 

How did puppy dog eyes go again? Castiel taught you it in case you ever came across the Winchester brothers. He said it would come in handy as opposed to using your powers. Not everything had to be taken by force. Not everything had to be a feat of strength. 'Sometimes honey works better than vinegar', he told you.

You ran down the checklist in your mind: (1) tilt your head down, (2) soften eyebrows, (3) look through your lashes, and (4) open your eyes just a fraction more -but not too much or you look surprised, not adorable. We want adorable. Oh! And (5) -this one was optional- pout your lips. This step was always a fail for you, though... you disregarded it and followed through with the rest.

Sam was soulless once and Dean still loved him. You had a soul, you thought, would he see it in your raven eyes?

Claire broke the silence, slicing through the thick air with her loud voice, "She has a temper sometimes, but she's never hurt anyone that didn't deserve it. Can you guys say the same about yourselves?" What was she doing? You knew they couldn't, that's one reason your father wanted you to stay away. "Because I can't."

"So you're part angel, part...?" Dean asked, his hand sliding over your cheek to brush at the skin under your eye.

Puppy dog look was working! That never happened before! You were giddy inside but kept the look, letting him explore the depths of your eyes, letting him see everything.

"Part demon."

"No human?"

"Not enough to count."

There was a fraction of you that was human. The equivalent to a 0.0001 percent on an ancestry test.

When you were a child you wanted to be human, you refused to use your powers even and asked your parents if you could go to school with the other kids. But you grew faster than them so you weren't allowed.

That's partially why it's taken so long to learn your powers, why you stayed with your parents until now and you still struggled with keeping control; because you kept them caged up for so long, like a wild animal and now they raged against you with any strong emotion. Pain, pleasure, fear, anger, anything in excess was a trigger.

"So, 'little devil', huh? You must've had fun with that one." Dean chuckled and you placed your hand over his still cupping your cheek.

His skin was warm on yours but, funny thing was, you never felt cold until you felt him.

"You have no idea." You smiled sweetly.

Again, not the daughter of the devil but demon was close enough. Lucifer was kind of your grandfather by creation, or your uncle? Both? You didn’t know, those things were hard to keep track of and you weren’t on speaking terms anyways. 

"Do you eat?" Dean asked.

You shrugged, "Sometimes."

"But you don't have to, do you?"

"No." You admitted and looked away. "I do love anything with cheese, though. Cheese is the greatest thing your kind ever invented... food wise."

"Really? Not chocolate?" Claire gaped.

"Umm," you thought about it, "it's a close second."

Dean laughed with a warm smile, "Let's get you something cheesy, then."

You beamed.

You honestly didn't expect Dean to react this way. You thought it probably had a lot to do with Castiel being your father. They seemed close, in the past. Or you were getting played, big time.

Let him try something if that's what he was up to. He couldn't hurt you and chances were if he could, he wouldn't know how tonight. They'd have to research since even you didn't know your weaknesses, there wasn't much lore on the matter. 

You wanted to trust Dean and it was kind of fun to play human while you were around them so you tagged along to the restaurant. 

Claire frowned and pouted as she ate her pasta forcefully. You thought she bit her fork once but kept going. There was sauce all over her chin. 

Dean had called Jody on the ride to the diner and Jody chewed her out over not waiting for backup. She deserved it, but it was a little harsh.

Claire saved a couple of kids from that shed before she got nabbed. It wasn't just that she let her guard down. She did good.

You didn't tell her that, though. It would only enable her and if anything happened to her you knew your father would be upset. She was a small human, not incapable but there was an advantage to being either powerful, like you, or big and strong like Dean and Sam.

"Earth to Y/N." Dean waved a hand in front of your face.

You didn't realize you'd been staring at his forearms, the sleeves of his flannel rolled up just enough for you to see his muscles move as he ate his cheeseburger. Sam had a salad, what the hell? Didn't a moose need more fuel?

"How's your poutine?"

"Pure cheesy goodness." You sighed and picked out another fry, twirling the melted cheese onto the end of it and sticking it between your lips.

You hummed at the taste. When Dean asked if you'd ever tried poutine and you said 'No', he completely flipped out and demanded you order it. There were no regrets but your mind was wandering with him sitting right in front of you. There was nowhere else to look and he was a masterpiece. 

Sam had his perks, too, his shoulders were massive and you never noticed things like that on humans before but you think you liked that. Big shoulders. Dean had them, too. Must run in the family. 

You sucked the gravy from your fingers and let out a slow breath with a little sigh. It sounded like a light moan.

"Y/N," Claire hissed and elbowed you and you saw her blush. "Can't you be normal? One time?"

You pouted -not really sure what the big deal was, it wasn't that loud- and picked up another fry. It's been a while since you ate anything, since you didn't really need to eat anything and it tasted really good.

You held up the fry, sticking out your tongue and sucking the melted cheese thread from the end of it into your mouth. You circled the tip of your tongue, collecting the thread until the fry met your lips and Claire jabbed you in the side again. 

You glared at her, muttered a 'What?!' and rolled your eyes. 

"Enjoying yourself?" Dean asked, his gaze heavy and his food left abandoned on his plate as he watched you.

"Mhm. Want some?" You offered innocently and sucked the gravy from your thumb.

"No. I'm having fun watching you, little devil. Keep going." He said and wet his bottom lip.

What did he just say?! You blushed. Hard.

You absolutely loved the butterflies he made come to life in your chest and stomach. Yeah, you were keeping him.

"Here. Just use this," Claire shoved the unused fork next to your plate at you. "And stop moaning, for fuck's sake."

"Sorry," you grabbed the fork and stuck it into a couple of fries. "Happy now?" You asked sarcastically, demonstrating the use of a fork by shovelling it into your mouth like Claire had done with her pasta.

You pouted to yourself, it tasted better with your fingers. That was weird, though, right? Next time you'd get it to go and eat alone in your motel room the way you wanted. 

You'd given up on being normal a long time ago. Weird was your forte. You were Castiel's daughter, after all, and Castiel was the king of weird. He made it cool. 

Your father brought you up to love yourself and Claire was just being Claire. Sometimes you got along and other times, you didn't. You thought having the boys here kind of put her on edge, too. Like she wanted them to approve of her and by extension, you. 

You had an inkling Dean approved of your eating methods, though. Maybe not Sam, even if he was all shades of red right now, and avoiding all eye contact, and he kept shifting in his seat like he was uncomfortable. It was funny. 

_____

Dean refused to stay at the motel near the dive you met him at -the closest motel in town- and instead drove for two hours to the next one. Which didn't look a whole lot better. It could only have, like, maybe half a star more than the last place. 

You had a room all to yourself, as did Claire and the boys shared a room with the two queen beds. In the morning they were set to drive Claire back home to Jody and the others. They wanted to make sure she actually got there and didn't run off again to do something stupid, as usual.

You didn't think it would matter, she would do whatever she wanted as soon as she got the chance. So, why delay the inevitable? As long as she called when she got in a jam and kept someone up to date on where and what she was hunting, you let her do her thing.

Even if the worst were to happen, you could always bring her back. You successfully resurrected a bird last summer. Castiel tried to explain balancing the universe or something but you didn't understand letting things suffer if you could give them a second chance. 

Like the bird who was minding his own business, pecking for worms in the grass in the rain when this plump house-cat came along and snatched him up. That bird probably had a nest to feed and that cat was just bored. You gave him a second chance. How could that be a bad thing?

That being said, you weren't about to take any strolls through the cemetery to awaken the dead. Even you had your limits. But you'd break the rules for the select few you truly cared about.

You sat on the edge of the bed in your motel room, flipping aimlessly through the five channels on TV. It was late, you were bored and you didn't sleep. You should've told Dean not to bother with a room for you but you didn't want to leave them just yet and he didn't ask.

Three quick knocks came at your door and you checked the digital clock on the bedside table.

Three-O-two A.M.

You shut off the TV -not wanting to watch the weather channel anymore, it was boring and repetitive, but you liked the tune they played in the background over and over- and walked towards the door. You undid the locks and opened the door.

You understood why people in horror movies were usually scared if something like this happened, but when you're nearly invincible, nothing like that really scares you anymore. Other things scared you, though, like if Dean left without you in the morning.

Sure, you could easily find him anywhere he went, but if he didn't want you around... that would be scary. Because, you really liked him and you drew the line at actually forcing yourself on him, even in a friendship.

But there he was, standing in your doorway and looking like he'd just woken up.

"Hey," he rasped, "Can I come in?"

"'Course," you stepped aside and shut the door behind him. "Something the matter?"

"Uh," he brushed his bedhead back in an attempt to comb it and glanced around the room. His green eyes settling on your still-made-up bed. "You don't sleep?"

It was more of a statement but you answered anyway.

"Do angels or demons sleep?" You shrugged and he acknowledged with a nod. "Dean? Are you okay? You look frazzled."

He laughed at your term and hung his shoulders as if you saw right through him and he knew he couldn't hide it with you. He sighed and sat on the edge of your bed, head in his hands.

"I had a nightmare." He swallowed like he was waiting for you to laugh, but you didn't. "It's always the same fucking thing." He continued and you stayed silent, crawling into a spot next to him on the bed. He didn't look at you and exhaled again. "I'm back in that house and it's burning, but I can't find Sammy and my dad's... just -gone. I feel the heat on my skin and in my lungs and I can't breathe… and then, I wake up, and I still can't breathe.” He looked up, finally meeting your eyes. "I don't know why or how, but... I can take a breath around you." He lifted his shoulders and turned towards you. "I had to make sure you were still here."

"I am," you nodded and smiled softly, "Is that a good thing?"

He huffed out a laugh, "Didn't you hear what I just said?"

"Yeah, I'm your inhaler."

"Damn, sweetheart, you really do take after Cass, don't you?" Dean smirked.

You were aware of how clueless your father was with pop culture references, it was something you were working on with him. You supposed you took after him a little, you always liked when people pointed out your similarities, even with your mother, too. Not all stuff demon was bad.

"Like father, like daughter." You shrugged. 

********************************************

When Dean wasn't paying attention -lost in your raven eyes- you hit him in the face with one of your pillows. His face blanched and you giggled and spun away from him. His arms wrapping around your waist before you could hop off the bed.

"Naughty, little devil." He growled in your ear.

You barely hit him! And squirmed against his hold, I'll bet, not hard. You were pretending to be human again. It was nice for a change letting someone else be all powerful. Especially someone like Dean who felt powerless. You could see it in his eyes when he was talking about his nightmare. 

Your back pressed to his chest and you felt his heart beat fast against yours. You liked being in his arms, you never felt so calm with your blood moving as fast as it did. Usually when your heart beat fast it was because you were angry. Demon blood -almost literally- boiling. 

This feeling was so far from that. Your whole body buzzed like it was electrified and tingles curled your toes. Then Dean's palm found the hem of your shirt and snaked up underneath it, laying flat on the skin of your stomach.

Dean groaned and shifted behind you, his bowed legs wrapping around your hips and his arms pulling you with him as he leaned back against the headboard. He breathed hard into your hair and kissed your ear. 

"If Cass knew what I was thinking about his little girl right now..."

"I feel it, too." 

You threaded your fingers through his as he clutched you to him. Dean's grip easing a little as you melted into him. You turned your head to meet him with a slow, soft kiss and then he dropped his forehead to yours. 

You breathed heavy and added, "But stop mentioning my father."

Dean barked out a laugh and turned rosy, "Last time. Promise." And he kissed you again. 

"This is kind of crazy." You panted between kisses, neither of you pushing for more just yet.

"Mmm," Dean agreed, continuing to attack your lips until they felt swollen against his. "Do you wanna stop?"

"Never." You giggled. "Don't stop. Please."

You turned and straddled his lap. Dean brushed the hair from your face as he stared into your eyes. Frozen and lost in their endless depths.

"Your eyes are incredible," he breathed and you shied away. "Don't look away. Look at me."

You exhaled nervously and chewed your lip as you pressed your forehead to his and met his gaze again.

Nobody ever looked at you like that.

His hands on your back roamed up and down, squeezing anything he could get a grip on. His fingertips indenting your skin under your shirt when he held you and shifted his hips down the bed, just enough so you sat in his lap like a puzzle piece, as he leaned his mouth into yours and captured yours lips.

"It feels like you were made for me." Dean groaned and his hands fell to your ass. "We just fit so perfectly together."

He pushed your hips down and his bulge pressed between your legs making you moan softly in his ear. You were both still very clothed but it felt nice to finally fit with someone. Like you knew where you belonged all along.

"I need you." You breathed into his ear, sucking his lobe between your teeth and nibbling. You felt him catch his breath and kissed down his neck. "It feels right with you. Don't leave me, ever."

You knew you were coming on strong but he had to already know what he was getting into. Cass' daughter and a nephalem, stronger than any other being on earth including Chuck. He had to know you weren't some one night thing. He certainly looked at you like you weren't.

"I don't plan to." Dean vowed, tugging the hem of your shirt up.

You let him strip it off of you and he went for your bra next. Covering yourself when he threw the wire beast to the floor. He met your eyes lovingly.

"Don't hide from me, little devil." He murmured and pulled your arms away from your chest. "You're the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on."

"You really know how to make a girl melt, don't you?" You laughed and hugged him, pressing his cheek to your chest. "Your turn."

You leaned back from him and tugged his shirt over his head. Trailing your fingertips over his anti-possession tattoo while he watched you with lust blown green eyes.

Dean threw you onto your back and climbed over you, ravaging your neck as heat throbbed between your legs. You moaned and felt him pull at your leggings. He tugged them down to your knees and you heard the zipper of his jeans follow.

You pushed the rest of your clothes off with your heels and Dean rid himself of his, then plastered his body back to yours. Feeling every inch of his skin pressed against yours.

He settled between your legs and his green eyes met your raven ones. A smile quirked his lips and he kissed down your chest as he hooked your knee with his arm, spreading you open.

His lips teased your nipple and you whimpered and threaded your fingers through his hair. Tugging when he teased the sensitive flesh with his teeth.

Dean grunted and kissed his way back to your lips. Trailing his moist breath over your skin and sending shivers through your body, down to your toes.

Fuck, he felt good. 

Your body was humming when he nudged between your legs, lining himself up and thrusting inside of you in a single push. You cried out and held his shoulders, feeling him breath deep and his muscles move slowly as he rocked into the apex of your thighs.

Pleasure quickly filled your veins and you latched your ankles around his lower back, keeping him pressed to you. Your breasts flattened against his chest and his thrusts grew faster and stronger as you tried to keep up, moving your hips in time to meet him.

Your hips bumped into his and you felt his tummy tighten against yours as he grew more desperate for you. His hand gripped your ass as he pressed himself more into you and your fingers tangled into his hair at the sensation, pulling the short strands and making him groan.

Fuck, he felt great!

Inside of you, on top of you. You felt grounded like you belonged exactly where you were. Like this was always meant to happen. Like you couldn't contain whatever was building between you. Like you were about to burst in the most unimaginably delightful way.

He grunted in your ear and the heat between your legs blossomed, your eyes rolling behind your lids as you shut your eyes and rode out your orgasm. Holding onto him for dear life.

He was a god among men.

Dean groaned louder, feeling you clench around him as he continued to push into you again and again. Pumping a few more times as he chased his own end and he started to come. He breathed heavy and loud in your ear, burying himself inside you with one final thrust and holding your hip with his hand as you felt warmth spill inside of you.

You didn't know if you could actually get pregnant by being with a human, your body was still flesh and bone to a certain extent, but at the moment you didn't care.

Dean fell onto you, pressing you into the mattress and you held him, tracing circles along his shoulders with your nails and kissing his cheek. He sighed, hot breath in your hair and on your neck and his lips found yours again. Kissing you deep and needy until the urge for air burned your lungs.

"Y/N..." Dean started and puffed against your lips, still trying to catch his breath. "I..."

"What?"

"It's never been that good."

But he shook his head and kissed you again. His kisses soft and pliant, easing as his heart fell back into a steady rhythm.

You did it again about a half hour later. And showered together as the sun rose, barely getting any sleep. Or Dean barely got any sleep. You were sure today would be one of the lucky days that Sam actually got to drive the Impala and you planned to spend the car ride holding Dean as he slept in the backseat. 

********************************************

After dropping Claire off with Jody -whom you got to meet and genuinely liked- you tagged along with the boys to a few other cases along their route back to Lebanon. More than one of those cases taking you way out of the way.

The detour was scenic and pleasant and you weren't in a rush for the road trip to end. You weren't entirely sure it ever ended for them. And you wanted to stick around for a while, find your sea legs and stand on your own, but with them by your side. With him.

The infatuation didn't end in that motel room and neither did the sex. But it was getting harder and harder to find time alone and you were ready for some time with just Dean, a bed and maybe some cheese -not in bed but maybe between romps in it.

The Impala -or Baby, as Dean called her- rolled into Lebanon late in the afternoon and up to a red brick building that looked like a warehouse. This must've been the bunker that your father often talked about. And when the car took the road around the back towards the secret entrance to the underground garage, there he was standing guard outside, just waiting.

Your father. He looked angry -his facial expression never actually changed, but you knew his cues after the years- and he held your eyes through the window of the Impala. Shit.

Castiel stood outside waiting for who knows how long. Trench coat blowing open in the breeze and his tie loosened a bit more than usual.

You might've sent him to voicemail more than a couple of times over the past weeks -after Dean insisted you get a phone to keep in touch- and when you listened to the messages, he wasn't all that thrilled about you hanging around with the boys, especially Dean. And especially since he knew how Dean was with women. You liked to think you were different together, though, it wasn't like you had much luck with serious relationships in the past either. So, you would figure it out together.

It wasn't your father's business but it was clear in his eyes when you stepped out of the car to meet him that he wasn't getting that.

"Cass-" Dean greeted as he climbed out of the car with you, a giant smile plastered on his face as he approached his friend.

Cass glared at him and touched his forehead. Dean instantly fell to the ground unconscious before you had a chance to catch him. Luckily it wasn't pavement so it wasn't a hard landing.

"Was that really necessary?" You snapped at your father.

Sam rushed to park the car and jumped out to check on Dean.

"Cass, what the hell?!" Sam growled, kneeling next to his brother and Cass touched his forehead next.

Sam fell over awkwardly on top of Dean and you thought maybe you should push him off but then your father spoke to you again.

"It's time for you to come home. You had your fun, Y/N." He said and stuck his hands into the pockets of his trench coat.

"I don't want to." You glowered. "You're pissed, I get it, but why are you taking it out on them?"

"Dean can't love you," Cass explained and his blue eyes flicked down to Dean's unconscious face, half hidden under Sam's arm. "He won't ever choose you over his family... over Sam. Me and your mother will choose you every time. Come home."

"I don't need him to choose me over his family, I want to be a part of their unit, I want to grow with them-"

"You can't grow with them, Y/N, you'll watch them grow old until the day they die. You could watch a million generations fly by before you even age a second."

"I don't care! I want him while I can have him! As long as he'll have me." You screamed and your chin trembled so you clenched your jaw tight.

"You'll care in ten years when he gets injured easier, twenty when he starts looking more like your father than your boyfriend-"

"Stop."

"And in thirty years, he'll probably be dead, hunters don't last long, Y/N, especially human ones." Your father vented almost like he wasn't just trying to convince you.

Cass and Dean were close, he wouldn't just let him die. He wouldn't just continue on without him. Dean would impact your father on a deep emotional level before his time came, he already did, you saw it as much as he tried to ignore it. Or not think about it.

"Please. Stop." Your voice was quiet now and Dean started to stir underneath Sam's limp body. "If he can't live forever, I want to be human, too."

You looked up at your father with tears in your eyes. You hardly ever cried and Cass steeled his jaw.

"I'll find a way," you promised yourself and wiped away a tear.

Your father's face fell, like he wasn't expecting that response and breathed out a long sigh, "Your mother isn't going to be happy about this." He shook his head and loosened his tie a little more. "But I'll help you, if you're sure. Because I love you."

Your father would do anything for you even if it broke his heart to do it. There were ways to get the best of both worlds, though. You never tried it but if an angel lost their grace, they turned human. You could siphon your grace and store it for the future, then you could grow old with him for as long as it lasted.

The only problem was the part of you that was demon. You didn't know how that would balance out if you lost your grace. But you'd find a way. 

You hugged your father when you saw his heart breaking and assured him that he wasn't losing you. And who knows, maybe you'd find a way to make Sam and Dean live forever instead, and then you wouldn't have to give up anything.

Dean groaned and pushed at Sam's arm, shifting out from under his little brother's heavy body.

"What the fuck, Cass?" He groaned as he checked on Sam and stood up. He saw you hugging and nodded like he understood, "Guess, I may have deserved that." 

"I'll be watching you," Cass said, squinting his steely blue eyes and pointing between them and Dean. A reference to a movie Dean probably made him watch. "She's my baby, Dean, treat her like she's your Baby." 

He nudged his head towards the Impala and you laughed as you skipped back over to Dean and into his arms. You held him tight around his waist and squeezed until you heard him huff in pain and curse.

You loosened your grip but didn't let him go. You have to squeeze adorable things, everyone knew that; Dean was tough, he could take it.

"Fuck. I don't want to be on either of your bad sides." He admitted and kissed your forehead. "You did good, Cass, she's beautiful... and strong as fuck. Shit, little devil, I think you just cracked my ribs."

Cass quirked an eyebrow at the endearment and you laughed at your father's face turning sour. Then Sam groaned from the ground behind you; which was a good thing, because Dean was going to need backup.

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28

SPN: @hobby27

#dean x nephalem!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x #spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #dean spn #dean x nephilim!reader #spn reader insert #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #spn #dean winchester #dean supernatural #supernatural #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean smut

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Teach Me How To Love

Pairing: Moonknight (Steven) x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: LOTS OKAY; This is smut minor dom/sub undertones, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (be safe around trains-shitty reference sorry lol), riding, creampie, kinda praise kink tingz, lemme know if I missed anything

Genre: fluff + smut

Summary: You knew dating the shy guy from the museum giftshop would mean taking the lead on things sometimes but boy is it sweet when he asks you to show him the ropes in bed

***

When you walk into the museum gift shop you scan the various shelves and racks. It doesn't take you long to pick out a few things, an archeology dig set, a stuffed Anubis toy, and a set of fact cards. You walk up to the counter where you realize you can't see a cashier.

"Uh- hello?" You call out looking around the gift shop for any indication that there's someone working here. A curly haired man suddenly pops up from behind the counter, so quick he loses his balance a little and has to grab the counter to avoid falling. "Oh." You gasp shocked by his appearance. You didn't even realize he was back there.

"Hi. Sorry I uh- didn't know anyone was here. Can I help you with something?" He asks softly.

"Just, checking out." You say setting your items on the counter. Steven glances up at you and nearly drops the scanner. He drops his eyes quickly, his shyness made worse by how attractive he thinks you are.

If you think she's so pretty then tell her so. Steven hears Marc's voice ringing in his head and he glares at the counter where Marc's reflection stares at him with bored exasperation.

"Did you find everything okay?" Steven asks as he rings your items.

"I think so- my nephew's newest obsession is Egyptian Mythology so I thought I'd pick him up some things while I was around. I figured these things would interest one very intelligent four and a half year old." You say.

"I'm sure he'll love it. You've included toys and something that actually provides knowledge. Those notecards are particularly very cool because they have some lesser known facts so it'll be really nice if he's interested in learning."

"Oh are you also a big fan of Egyptian Mythology?" You ask with a smile and his cheeks warm as he realizes he was rambling. He is, but you think it's very cute how excited he is.

"Um- kind of yes, actually. Your total is 32.56." He tells you.

"Maybe I'll have to bring my Nephew around! I'm sure he'd love to talk to another enthusiast." You smile as you swipe your card.

"If you decide to bring him, I'll happily talk with him." Steven says handing you your now bagged items.

"Great! I'll see you then!" You smile taking your stuff from him and heading out of the small giftshop.

I don't understand why you didn't tell her you thought she was pretty Steven. You're such a coward. Marc scoffs.

"She's a customer that's weird and borderline inappropriate." Steven whispers aggressively at the reflection. You glance over your shoulder and happen to catch what you assume is him talking to himself.

It's a couple weeks later that you bring your nephew back to the museum. You have him for the day so your sister and brother in law can have some alone time so you figured you'd bring him here. He's already memorized most of the notecards you gave him it seems because while walking through the museum he casually spouts facts at you about the various exhibits. Once you've walked through the whole museum, your nephew is quick to drag you into the gift shop.

"Don't go overboard sweetie, two or three things tops." You tell him as he scans the shelves.

"Okay!" He says excitedly. Your nephew comes back to you with another archeology dig and a book that he brings up to the counter he can barely reach.

"Oh- you're back!" Steven blinks at you with a smile he almost tries to hide.

"I am. Hello again." You smile.

"Hi."

"Lewis this is the nice man I told you about who likes Egyptian Mythology like you do." You tell your nephew. "I'm sorry, I just realized- I never got your name." You frown at him.

"Oh-- St- Steven. My name's Steven Grant." He stutters out.

"Steven." You say softly and he almost wants to collapse at the way his name sounds from your lips. "Well I'm y/n, and this is my curious nephew Lewis." You tell him.

"Hey Lewis! I hear you're really into mythology." Steven smiles at him.

"Yeah! Everything is so cool." Lewis says.

"Do you have a favorite mythological figure? Or myth?" Steven asks.

"I like Anubis because aunty got me a toy that looks like him, but I'm still learning about some of the others. Do you have a favorite?"

"Well I've heard Khonshu's kind of an annoying old bird but his powers are totally cool." Steven says.

"Is he in this book?" Lewis asks pointing at the book of myths he picked up.

"I actually think he is. You wanna know what he looks like?"

"You know what he looks like?!"

"Sure I do." Steven grabs a scrap of paper and one of the museum pens to start a sketch. It only takes him a couple of minutes to draw a strange skeleton bird creature.

"Woaaahh! He looks so cool!!" Lewis gasps.

"He's super tall so- it's actually kinda spooky." Steven says like he's sharing a secret. He hands the drawing to Lewis who excitedly looks over it.

"STEVEN!! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!" You gasp when a woman's voice booms through the lobby of the museum.

"Oh dear, that's my boss. It's like she can sense enjoyment and seeks to crush it." Steven jokes with you handing Lewis his things in a bag while you wrap up your transaction.

"I hope everything is alright." You tell him.

"Ah I'm sure it'll be fine. She tends to be dramatic." Steven says passing you your receipt.

"Well, it was nice to see you again Steven." You say.

"You too! Hope to see you soon."

"Ah now that Lewis has seen the collection here he'd have me bring him everyday if he could." You joke.

"Well Seeing a face like yours everyday would certainly make work much better." He says casually and you swear he sounds like a different person for a moment. His demeanor is totally different and it almost sounds like his accent changed.

"Aren't you sweet." You muse.

"Sorry, that was bold." Steven mutters and his mannerisms are back to normal.

"It was- cute. Very nice of you to say." You smile. "I have to get going now and you should probably go find your boss, but I'll be bringing Lewis back so, see you soon." You say grabbing Lewis's hand and taking him out of the museum.

"He was nice." Lewis hums.

"Wasn't he? Don't worry when you finish that book I can bring you back for more things." You tell him, ruffling his hair as you walk down the street.

You do bring him back, a couple of weeks later and he's quick to pick out a new book and another archeology dig toy like the one you got him. Apparently there's a whole collection of toys you can get inside and he's determined to get them all.

"Hello again mister Steven!" Lewis says placing his items on the counter.

"Oh hi, you're back." Steven glances at Lewis and then smiles at you.

"We sure are. Lewis is trying to collect all the toys in these things." You say.

"Awesome. Those things are very cool I bet." Steven says scanning the items.

"They are!" Lewis says.

"Well good luck on your expeditions." Steven smiles at Lewis as you swipe your card.

"Thanks!" Lewis says taking the bag from Steven when he hands it to him.

"Hey Steven, this may be a bit forward but would you be interested in hanging out some time?" You ask him. Ideally you'd wait for him to make a move but you suspect it would take him months to work up the courage and you don't want to keep bugging him at work and leave it up to chance.

"You wanna hang out with me?" He blinks at you.

"Yeah! Only if you're interested. You can say no of course, I just figured maybe it'd be nice to talk outside of me coming to your job." You say.

"I'd love to! When? Should I- should I meet you somewhere? Here maybe?" Steven stutters out nervously.

"You know the restaurant around the block? It's off Primrose."

"Yeah, I know it."

"Meet me there by 7 tomorrow." You tell him.

"Alright." He nods and you leave with Lewis in tow, too wrapped up in his new book to pay your interaction any mind.

The next evening Steven is outside your chosen restaurant ten minutes early ignoring Marc's voice making fun of him for being so anxious.

"Steven!" You call as you walk towards him.

"Y/n, hi." He breathes with a smile.

"I hope you weren't waiting long." You say looping your arm through his as you walk into the restaurant.

"Oh no not at all. I got here only a couple of moments before you." He says. The two of you are quickly led to a table where you end up sitting for a few hours. It's awkward at first, the way first dates tend to be. Steven is unsure of what he should and shouldn't say and it makes the first bit of conversation a little unnatural but you're more than happy to take the lead, and the more you do the more he relaxes. He cracks jokes and laughs and it's the most beautiful sound you've heard in some time. While it's obvious he's still nervous around you, by the time your date ends well into the night he's the most at ease he's felt in ages. He's even the one that initiates the invite for a second date for which you go to an art show. You and Steven spend a few weeks seeing each other before eventually making it official. He's sweet and gentle and still pretty shy about certain things even after a several months together. Tonight you've invited Steven over for dinner, it'll be his first time really in your apartment and you're hoping to approach physical intimacy with him. When you hear a knock on your door you're just about done making dinner and you quickly wash your hands before answering it.

"Steven! Hi!" You smile.

"Hello love, am I too early?" He checks his watch.

"No of course not, I just finished cooking. Come in." You step out of the doorway to let him in.

"Oh! I brought you flowers." He says handing you the bouquet.

"They're gorgeous. Let me just find a vase for them. You can just take a seat at the kitchen table." You say taking the flowers from him. You find a makeshift vase for the flowers and set them on the table. You quickly serve dinner, a vegan version of your favorite pasta dish.

"You look amazing by the way." Steven breathes out as you sit beside him.

"Thank you. You look nice too." You say softly. You wait for Steven to take a bite of his food before you eat your own, eager for his reaction. He lets out a groan that brings a proud smile to your face as you eat.

"This is so good." He says.

"I'm glad you like it. It's one of my favorites to make." You tell him.

"If you cook any more meals like this I'll never let you go." He jokes.

"Who said I wanted you to do that anyway?" You muse making Steven blush. The conversation shifts to catching each other up on your days and before you know it, dinner is finished and you've migrated to the couch in your living room with wine.

"Your place is nice, it feels very you." Steven notes.

"I sure hope it does, I'm quite proud of my interior designing." You smile when Steven laughs. "Do you feel like your apartment reflect you Steven?" You ask after a moment.

"Well it's kind of a mess of books so, in some ways yes." Steven shrugs. "I think it reads mostly that it's just a place I sleep though."

"Not big on stylizing it to fit you?"

"Not sure what stylizing to fit me looks like honestly."

"A wall of books sounds like a good a place to start." You joke and he chuckles.

"Well what would you do with it?"

"With what?"

"My flat. What would you expect for it to reflect me? It's a studio, if that helps."

"A large bookshelf that you probably only half use because you're always reading five books at a time so even though it's there you still have books everywhere." He laughs at that, "Little knick knacks from your favorite exhibits at work. It's probably all neutrals, your bedsheets and stuff but you should really get something brightly colored, like nice curtains or some pretty throw pillows. Probably looks like a dead person lives there." You joke jabbing at his ribs lightly. At some point while you were talking you'd stretched out so your legs are draped over his lap.

"I'm very much alive thank you." Steven scoffs at you, hand absentmindedly rubbing your shin.

"Are you?"

"You'd be dating a ghost if I wasn't." He points out leaning towards you.

"Imagine that. My boyfriend, a ghost." You say quietly since he's so close.

"You can't feel a ghost this close to you. Can you?"

"Then it's a good thing you're not one I guess." You say, bringing him towards you with a hand at the nape of his neck. The position is a little awkward after a couple of seconds so you move to shift yourself entirely into his lap without disconnecting your lips. Steven has always been reserved in his kisses. They are soft and shy, as if he's not sure what to do although now he seems to be comfortable matching your intensity when you deepen the kiss. One hand tangles itself in his hair while the other rests against his chest.

Touch her Steven. She wants you to. Marc's voice chimes in.

Touch her?! Wait do you think she wants to go all the way? I don't-

Don't panic dude. I can always take over.

No way! She doesn't even know about you.

Maybe it's time to change that

Not tonight! Just- butt out.

At some point during their mental debate Steven stopped kissing you back, which- you definitely notice and you pull away.

"Steven. Are you alright?" You ask quietly and that brings his attention back to you.

"Y-yeah. Of course." He says.

"Steven we can stop if you're not comfortable. I have cake, we can just- go back to talking." You say shifting to get off of him. Steven's hands move to grab your hips, keeping you in place before you can move too far.

"I'm not uncomfortable. I just- I've never done this before."

"Never done what? Made out with a girl?"

"Uh well I- I thought maybe we were going to do more than that." He says awkwardly worrying that he misread the situation and made things worse by jumping to conclusions.

"We don't have to if you aren't ready." You tell him with a hand against his cheek.

"It's not that I'm not ready. I want to I just- I don't know what to do. You'll have to teach me."

"Teach you?"

"Yes teach me. teach me how to touch you and tease you show me how to please you." Steven says and you swear his words travel straight to your core.

"You're sure about this? I don't want you to feel pressured in any way."

"I'm dying to learn every inch of you." He says quietly.

"I'll tell you what you don't need help with, your words." You muse standing and pulling him with you. "We're going to my room." You toss over your shoulder.

"O-okay." He says letting you drag him down the hall to your room. As much as Steven would like to take a moment to look at your room, he's too captivated by you to bother looking anywhere else as you slowly pull the straps of your dress down. You let the dress fall to the floor and step out of it, turning to face Steven in just your underwear and his eyes are wide as he stares at you. You pull him towards you and place his hands on your waist to kiss him. You make quick work of the buttons on his shirt, running your fingers down his chest. Your hands unbuckle his belt and then stop yourself.

"Is this okay?" You whisper.

"Very okay." He sighs.

"Take them off for me baby." You say stepping back. Steven scrambles to shove his pants and boxers down his legs and nearly trips stepping otu of them. "You didn't have to rush." You muse.

"S-sorry." His cheeks ting pink in a way you find adorable.

"I'm not scolding you, but you almost tripped. I don't want you to hurt yourself." You say gently patting his cheek. With a hand on his shoulder you guide Steven to sit on the edge of your bed. You squat in front him and place a kiss against his knee, and then another above it trailing up his inner thigh and then switching to the other leg, starting at his knee again and kissing your way up. His hands squeeze the edge of your mattress as he gets worked up from your lips against his skin. When you finally take his dick in your hand Steven groans, hips twitching as your tongue traces the length of him. You wrap your fingers around him, swirling your tongue lazily around the tip while you stroke him. Only once his shaky breathing turns into strained whines do you put him all the way in your mouth, swallowing as much of him as you can and the warmth has every muscle in his body tense with pleasure. You bob your head quickly for several minutes, watching the way ecstasy paints itself across your boyfriend's face. His mouth is dropped open as sounds spill out of it, his brow is furrowed and his eyes are closed. Curious to see his pupils blown wide you gently drag your nails down his legs and his eyes pop open. You only get a glimpse of the way the pools of brown have all but disappeared behind black before his eyes close again, the sight of you staring up at him with his dick in your mouth to overwhelming for him to keep his eyes on you. When his thighs tense up beneath your palms you let up, standing while he struggles to catch his breath. You lean over enough to kiss him.

"Move back Steven." You mutter against his lips and let him shuffle his way up your bed until his head rests on your pillows. You crawl over him and sit with your legs on either side of him. You litter his neck with kisses, listening for clues of his sensitive spots smiling to yourself when his breath hitches as you nip at a spot just above his collarbone. You work the spot until a bright red mark stains his skin before you sit up.

"Touch me Steven." You tell him grabbing his hand and placing it on your chest. He hesitates for a moment before squeezing the flesh of your boob, noticing the way you gasp when his thumb grazes your nipple through the lace fabric. With a curious look on his face Steven tugs the cups of your bra down enough to reveal your breasts properly, fingers brushing over your nipples repeatedly, watching the way you subtly arch towards his touch.

"You're sensitive here." He mutters.

"Yeah, use your mouth on me." You breathe out. Steven sits up and wraps his lips around one nipple, sucking and licking it as he rolls the other between his fingers. The way moans and whimpers fall from your lips has Steven wanting to stay like this forever if it means the sounds never stop. You take Steven's free hand and guide it between your legs. Just like with your boobs, he's initially unsure of what to do but your fingers press his towards your entrance and he slowly works them inside. The way his digits curl inside you makes you grind against his hand and with dick pressed against your ass he starts to shift at the sudden friction.

"You're so- wet." Steven marvels at the feel and sound of his fingers inside you.

"You made me wet sweetheart, with your pretty sounds and even prettier dick." You say with your lips next to his ear, nipping at the lobe in a way that has him groaning.

"I wanna taste you." Steven mutters, placing kisses along your neck. You pull his hand from you and place it against his lips. He licks his fingers clean with wide eyes looking at you. "That isn't what I meant." He frowns.

"I know. Next time love. Right now I just want to ride you." You tell him raising your hips to shift your lacy panties to the side.

"But-" Steven's complaint is cut off by a harsh grunt as you line him up with your entrance and sink down on him.

"Fuck you're big." You whimper, your head dropping to his shoulder.

"S-Shit you're... warm." He huffs out. Your hands against his chest push him back against the pillows as you brace yourself and begin to bounce on him. Steven's hands grab your hips tightly as you ride him fiercely.

"You look so good under me like this Steven. So so good." You moan when you look down at him. His head is thrown back and he's grabbing you harsh enough to leave marks but fuck if it doesn't feel so perfect the way he fills you.

"W-wait- y/n I'm close." Steven warns you.

"Fuck- you wanna cum inside me baby?" You ask him and his eyes go so wide you'd find it funny in any other situation.

"C-can I?" He pleads with a look that would make you do anything he asks.

"Sure you can. If you want to."

"Gods I want to- but you- you have to cum first." He grunts. You slow your bouncing just a little so you can keep your balance when you take one hand off of him to rub circles against your clit, the bundle of nerves sensitive and swollen from lack of attention.

"F-fuck." You moan, feeling the coil in your belly tighten as you play with yourself.

"Come on love, please cum. Wanna see how gorgeous you look cumming on my dick." Steven begs. He actually begs and his words are enough to send you over spasming against him as you ride out your high. When you start to come down you pick up your pace again, focusing now on making Steven finish.

"Your turn baby. Cum for me. Fill my pussy like you want to." You drag your nails down his chest and he moans loudly as you feel warmth flood your insides. Before you can move off of him, Steven pulls you against his chest, holding you close as he recovers.

"Was that- was I okay?" He asks quietly after a moment.

"You were amazing. Especially for your first time." You tell him.

"Good- great. I'm glad. I didn't want to disappoint you-"

"You could never disappoint me Steven." You cut him off. "But there's still a lot to teach you." You add kissing his cheek.

"We can start as soon as tomorrow." He mutters, his eyes closed as sleep threatens to carry him away.

"No need to rush. You've got plenty of time to learn. I'm not going anywhere." You say rubbing soothing circles on his chest.

"Neither am I." He manages to slur out before finally he falls asleep and you allow the steady beat of his heart to lull you off too.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #moonknight #moonknight fanfiction #moonknight x reader #marc spector #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant fluff #steven grant smut #moonknight fluff #moonknight smut

[sammysmaddy]

Normal (Winchesters x Reader) - Part Eight

Summary: Growing up as the baby of the Winchester family led you to be constantly guarded. Soon enough, you start to learn what's normal between families and what's not.

Characters: John x Daughter!Reader, mentions of Sam x Sister!Reader, mentions of Dean x Sister!Reader

Chapter Warnings: dub con, incest, angst, manipulation, coercion, loss of virginity, p in v

W/C: 3.1k+

A/N: One more chapter you guys :,)

Normal Masterlist

Masterlist

Daddy: Put some nice clothes on and pack a bag, we're going on a date tonight.

You couldn't help but choke on a sob as you read your phone. Your brain was hurting from crying so much. You tried desperately to understand Dean's anger and frustration with you.

You quickly got dressed after Dean left you alone in the motel room, wondering if you'd see him again later in the night or if he'd distract himself with a girl that wasn't you. It hurt to think about the latter.

You didn't understand why Dean was so upset with you or why he was upset with himself, it just didn't make any sense. What you were doing wasn't wrong. What was wrong with showing Dean how much you loved him?

Although it's true that you had never done anything like that with Dean before, you never would have taken it further if it weren't for that night of your first party.

He kissed you first. He used you first. He pleasured himself above your body before you had even thought to make an advance on him. Why was Dean suddenly changing his mind, and why was he calling it wrong?

You couldn't help but feel like Dean was lying to you because he felt guilty for some unknown reason.

Dean had told you that what you were doing with John was wrong, even what you were doing with Sammy. But you knew deep down that neither Sam nor your father had never hurt you before and that they never would.

Why would Dean ever suggest that anything was amiss?

You snapped out of your thoughts and picked at the skin on your hands, looking up as you heard the motel door open.

You had hoped to see Dean, to ask him all of your millions of questions, but Sam walked through the door. Sam's face dropped as he saw you sitting on the bed crying and immediately made his way over to you.

"Did Dean tell you?" Sam asked and you furrowed your eyebrows, growing confused.

You slowly nodded your head, sniffling, and Sam took a seat on the bed next to you. How would Sam already know what Dean 'told' you and what was there to tell? You had already assumed that Dean was lying.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm really really sorry. I just- I figured you knew already and that you were okay with it." Sam put a hand on your shoulder reassuringly and you tried your best to hide your confusion.

Already knew what?

Was Dean really being serious? Was what you were doing with Sam and John actually wrong? It still wasn't clicking in your brain, and you found yourself needing to know more.

"I wish you would have told me sooner," You suggested, hoping to pry some more information out of Sam.

"I thought Dad had told you, honestly, I did. I never would have let you come on to me if I knew," Sam gave you a half smile as the tears continued to flow down your face.

It still didn't make sense. John was the one who taught you everything about life, and now Sam and Dean were both telling you that he had kept a huge secret from you. John would never keep a secret from you. You were sure of it.

"I still don't get it, Sammy," You sighed, frowning as you looked over at him. "What's so wrong about it? It's just love. Daddy says it's normal."

"Dad lied to you," Sam stated simply, not expounding as your face turned to shock.

Why would John ever lie to you? It just wasn't in his nature. You knew he loved you more than anything.

"What's wrong with it?" You asked again and Sam's lip trembled before he bit it to keep it still. "Is it because I did it with you too? Daddy says he's the only man I can trust enough."

"Dad's sick, Y/N. He manipulated you into thinking it was okay to do those things with him when it's not, you're not supposed to do that stuff with your family." Sam tried his best to explain and you tried your best to understand.

"Why not?" You pried and Sam sighed before taking a long moment to think.

"He's supposed to take care of you: Feed you, shelter you, buy you clothes. He's not supposed to want sex from you and you're not supposed to want sex with him. No father should want to have sex with his daughter. It's incest." Sam continued to explain and you shook your head, trying your best to understand.

"Then why did you let me come on to you?" You asked and Sam scrubbed his face with his palm whilst taking a deep inhale.

"I thought you didn't care about right or wrong. I thought you knew we weren't supposed to do those things together, but you still wanted to." Sam frowned and you followed suit.

"But I did want to do those things with you," You mentioned quietly, tears streaming down your face.

"But you didn't understand how wrong it was," Sam held your hand but you yanked it out of his grasp.

"I don't get it, Sammy. I'm really trying," You sniffled to yourself, feeling your eyes well with even more tears.

"It's okay, Y/N. You didn't know, and Dean and I are going to make sure Dad gets what he deserves, okay? We're not going to let him hurt you anymore." Sam said and you furrowed your eyebrows as you grew even more confused.

"He wasn't hurting me, Sam. He must have just forgotten to tell me," You shook your head, trying to fit all the pieces together.

"No, he didn't tell you on purpose so that you would want to have sex with him. He was abusing you."

"Why would he do that?" You sobbed.

John was the one man on Earth who you were supposed to trust. Even more than you were meant to trust Sam and Dean. The pieces weren't fitting together.

"Because he's sick in the head. And I guess I am too. It's not natural. I'm just happy that Dean found out before it went any further." Sam half-smiled again and you looked down at your lap, a strange sense of shame attached to your conscious.

You felt embarrassed that you were so easily taken advantage of. You felt embarrassed that you didn't know. But above all, you felt angry.

You weren't sure if you were angry with yourself for not knowing that it was 'wrong', if you were angry because Sam and Dean suddenly had a change of heart and it made you feel unwanted, or if you were angry because John had never mentioned it to you.

John had taught you everything there was to know about life. He taught you how to bathe, how to shoot a gun, and how to cook breakfast.

John did everything you thought a good father did- you thought that being a good father also included sex with their daughter.

It hurt your heart to know that he was only using you.

"Does that mean we can't do it together anymore?" You asked, hoping Sam would give you the answer that you wanted.

"I don't know, Y/N," Sam flattened his lips, looking sadder by the second. "I just know that Dad needs to pay for what he's done to you. He is the reason all of this is happening. It's not your fault."

"But what if I don't want to stop?" You asked.

You didn't want to lose the relationship that you had with each of your family members. You didn't want John to pay, you wanted to continue loving him in the only way you knew how.

"Then, that's up to you. I don't know if I can go on knowing the things I know now. It makes me feel sick." Sam frowned, looking down at his lap.

"Oh," Was all that came out as your heart tore into a million pieces.

beep boop beep boop

Your anxiety only rose as the date with John went on further because you knew what would follow afterward.

Sam had fallen asleep early and your father had asked you to meet him outside before the both of you left. A part of you felt guilty for not telling Sam where you were going, but you knew that Sam would not have been okay with it.

As much as how Sam felt about the situation was completely valid and you desperately wanted to let Sam protect you from John, the thought of your father's disappointment was more dominant.

You managed to make conversation at dinner and you found yourself falling into your ways. Your heart had longed for this night for so long that it felt wrong to not see it through until the end.

In addition to your longing for this night, you still loved your father more than anyone in the world. Now more confused than ever, you battled internally between asking John for the truth and giving in to your own desires.

As John kissed your neck, sprawled over the top of you, you couldn't stop replaying your interaction with Dean earlier.

Was Dean lying to you? You tried your best to come up with alternate explanations for his behavior but nothing ever made sense. Was he just jealous? Did he want you all to himself? Did he figure out that he didn't want you in that way after he fingered you?

The only thing that seemed to make sense, in addition to your conversation with Sam, was that Dean was telling the truth. It was eating at you as you began to feel slightly disgusted by John's large body on top of yours.

"How are you feeling, baby?" John smiled as he came up for air, pushing the hair out of your face.

"Good," You lied, giving him a small smile.

"Good," John chuckled in return, placing his lips on yours for a slow, lingering kiss.

You found it hard to kiss him back as a million more questions popped into your head.

Was it bad that you wanted to stop? Would you disappoint John? And what would he do in response?

You didn't want to know the answer to any of those questions so you stayed silent as John took his shirt off.

"Get undressed for me, darling," John didn't seem to pick up on your uneasiness.

You hesitated for a moment, watching as John began to take his pants off, but ultimately decided to sit up and take your shirt off.

John looked back at you smirking, and you felt chills run down your spine. You decided to stop undressing as you waited for John to notice how uncomfortable you felt.

"Need help?" John asked, slowly walking toward you.

John yanked your ankles, your back hitting the bed as he slid you toward the end. His hand then traveled up your legs, dipping underneath your skirt to rest on your thighs.

"Daddy?" You asked timidly.

"Yes, baby?" He responded, pulling your panties down your legs before looking back up at you.

You weren't even sure what you were going to say, but you knew that you wanted to stop. You no longer cared if it upset John.

"I don't know if I'm ready," You managed to utter, propping yourself up on your elbows as you held your legs shut.

"That's okay, sweetheart. You know Daddy will take his time with you. I'm always very careful with my little girl." John pushed your skirt up your legs and your hands instinctively pushed the fabric back down. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," You weren't sure what to say.

You didn't want to out Sam or Dean for telling you because you weren't even sure if they were telling the truth, but you didn't know how to tell John that you no longer wanted to have sex with him.

"Don't get cold feet with me now, darling. Daddy really wants to fuck his little girl." John chuckled, palming his erection through his boxers.

You swallowed as John began to push the cotton down his legs, revealing his incredibly large member. You shuddered at the thought of it entering inside of you, even more scared of the fact that there was a possibility that John would be taking advantage of you.

When John's hands began to spread your legs, your body fought with little resistance. He pulled you so that your ass was nearly hanging off the bed and rested his cock over your heat, groaning as he slowly thrust his hips.

"It's okay, baby. Daddy loves you and he wants to take care of you. Can you let Daddy take care of you?" John leaned over you, reaching underneath your body to unclasp your bra.

John pulled the cloth off of your chest with ease, letting out a growl as his large hands palmed at your breasts.

You felt your throat constrict as your tear ducts began to fill, not sure how to tell your father how you were feeling. John didn't seem to notice as he bent over to kiss your lips.

Paralyzed with fear, you couldn't bring yourself to return his kiss and after a few seconds, John pulled back.

"I'm really trying here, sweetheart. I can't make you feel good if you don't want me to, and I know that's not the case." John chuckled awkwardly as he pulled back, his face hovering a few inches above yours.

"Is it wrong?" You choked on a sob as the tears began to stream down your face.

"What?" John reacted instantly, his body tensing as his eyebrows furrowed. "Who told you that this was wrong?"

"Nobody," You said quietly, looking up at him with blurred vision as your tears continued to fall.

"I don't know what you're talking about, baby. This is meant to be. This is why God let me have you." John stroked a few stray hairs out of your face, rutting his hips a bit as his cock slid up and down your slit. "See how good you make Daddy feel? Daddy wants to do the same for you and he doesn't know how much longer he can wait."

You stared at him silently, your lips quivering as you tried to think of what to say. Your body shivered as John began to align himself with your entrance, poking into you ever so slightly.

"Just let me take care of you, baby. Try to enjoy it, okay?" John did his best to be reassuring, but it only made your stomach churn.

Your eyes screwed shut as John began to push himself into you. You instinctively let out a gasp as you grabbed onto his arms, digging your fingernails into his biceps.

Your neck craned back as your body did its best to accommodate your father and John took that as an opportunity to reach down and nip at your neck.

John continued to slowly work himself in, sending vibrations through your throat as he groaned at the feel of you.

"You feel so fucking good, baby," John moaned into your skin, gradually rutting his hips into you.

You squeezed tighter onto John's arms when he finally bottomed in you, your body rejecting the intrusion as your walls clamped around his cock, attempting to force him out.

"You're so fucking tight," John let out an airy laugh, groaning as he pulled his hips back and forth an inch or so.

Tears were steadily streaming down your face, your mind and body in unison and at war against John.

"Does it feel good, sweetheart? Does Daddy's cock feel so good inside of your tight pussy?" John chuckled, bringing his face above yours.

You didn't have the courage to look up at him, instead opting to keep your eyes shut as John began to pull out further before slamming into you.

John didn't seem to mind your lack of words, instead working off of the gasps that fled your throat in reaction to his movements. He snapped his hips faster and faster as your body got used to his size, and before you knew it, he was nearly leaving your pussy entirely before rutting back into you.

You weren't sure why, because the last thing you wanted was your father to be inside of you, but your arms wrapped around John's back, pulling him closer to you.

A part of you wanted for him to finish as quickly as possible and a part of you just wanted to be close to somebody whilst you dealt with your emotions. You hated how good it felt to hold John in your arms as he fucked into you like there was no tomorrow.

Opening your eyes, you grimaced each time John let out a hot, sweaty breath into your ear. Although you hated to admit it, it was beginning to feel good. You had a gut feeling that what was happening was wrong, but after your body adjusted to John, it began to betray the thoughts in your head.

Your pussy clenched around John's cock as you felt that familiar rumble in your core. Your eyes had not yet dried and they weren't showing any signs of doing that anytime soon, but your uncomfortable gasps soon turned into genuine moans of pleasure.

It felt so wrong as your climax approached, but half of you was desperate for a release. Your body instinctively brought your legs up to wrap around John's body.

As John reached a new depth you didn't know existed before, you gasped loudly as your orgasm became imminent.

"That's it, baby. Cum all over Daddy's cock," John cheered you on, reaching underneath your arms and resting your head in his hands.

When John reached down to kiss you this time, you didn't hesitate to kiss back. With all limbs, you held him as close as possible, locking your lips as your walls began to clench erratically.

"Daddy!" You let out a choked moan, terrified tears turning into those of pleasure.

"That's it. Good girl. Cum for your Daddy." John chuckled, opting to kiss your neck as he began to snap his hips faster.

"Mmm," Was all you could manage to utter out as your climax peaked.

You bit down on John's shoulder, digging your fingernails into his back as you started to come undone around your father.

Suddenly, John's hips began to move erratically. As you bit down on his soft skin and your walls contracted on their own accord, he bottomed inside of you one last time.

John's elongated groan in your ear caused your body to shake as you felt his length twitch unpredictably. With your euphoria washing away with each passing second, reality settled heavily in your stomach and you knew that you needed to escape.

•••

Next Part

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Tag List ❤️

@hobby27 @writethelifeyouwant @deeranger @deans-baby-momma @deans-number-one-fan

#fanfic #supernatural #spn #spnfamily #dean winchester #dark!dean x reader #sam winchester #darkfic #jared padalecki #sam x reader #dark! john winchester x reader #dark! john winchester #john x reader #john winchester #dark! sam winchester x reader #dark! sam winchester #sam x sister!reader #john x daughter!reader #sam winchester x reader #dark! dean #dean x reader #normal #dubcon

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

42 - The Thing in the Night

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

Length: 19.8k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, references to past rape, discussions of miscarriage and fertility, disturbing imagery, blood and violence, unintentional self harm, smut, voyeurism, guided masterbation, oral (f receiving), p in v, breeding kink, possessive sexual language

Notes: Who guessed it? Come forward, how long ago did some of you figure it out? Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

Jon knew to some degree, he was making it obvious by asking. Or at the least, he was not subtle about his intentions. At the time he had respected your decision not to tell him, it was a sensitive subject for you and in some weeks time by then you were all sailing to a battle. You didn't want it plaguing his mind as he didn't want it plaguing yours. So you went to see Maester Wolkan about whether or not you any longer had the ability to bear a child, and didn't tell Jon the answer until the first night on Dragonstone.

Before this new life, the last time Jon ever saw you he was still firmly in the position of getting you pregnant as his biggest fear. Even if you were ready for him that day, Jon still wouldn't have been able to go through with it, how much he begun to panic over the idea of accidentally giving you a child. A girl in the royal family, having a bastard child with a bastard for a father. He also couldn't possibly find a way to get his hands on moontea or even any tansy. Luwin would have figured it out in seconds and it would all be over.

Going to Maester Pylos however, Jon hadn't quite yet shaken off that insecurity. He of course, didn't actually seem to give it much thought. He was a Maester not a Septon he had said, it wasn't his position to judge what a man does in his spare time. Asking if he'd prefer it made for his ease, Jon truthfully wanted to end it and leave. No Pylos didn't judge the conversation, but there was no doubt what it was going to be used for and he wanted to escape the awkwardness within him already. Telling him he'd take the ingredients needed and would brew it himself should it be of use.

It was a slightly more uncomfortable conversation for Jon, when he had to go to Pylos a second time for more.

But still, he knew it was important. He couldn't be reckless because of the noise in his head. No matter what it seemed like something inside him tried to claim, Jon was still a man. Not a wolf. He couldn't just take you as much as he wanted, couldn't carelessly spill inside of you with no plan because a darker instinct inside his chest growled at him to do it enough until it took. Jon knew it was a stroke of luck that he hadn't put a child in you that night in Castle Black. Twice he spilled inside of you and twice more the next morning.

Though, a large part of Jons mind was taken up by the wonder of what if it did take. By the time on Dragonstone when you and Jon finally made love again, his wondering fantasy knew that enough time had passed that you'd have started showing. By now, you'd have needed people to do even the simplest tasks for you, if you hadn't already given birth.

Jon felt like a mad man. Obsessing over the idea of you mothering his children. It wasn't something Jon ever thought was what he would be like by now. Once he decided he was taking the black, he thought he had all but killed any thoughts of a child of his own.

His Uncle Benjen had tried to tell him, warn him about what he would be giving up. Never marrying, never fathering any children. But, shut out that night in the cold, inside the royal company here to split his family in half across the country and knowing it would end in losing you to his brother? Jon saw not a single shred of future for him here anymore.

His father, sisters, and Bran would go to Kings Landing, leaving Lady Catelyn with Rickon, and Robb remaining as he would take on more and more responsibility as heir to Winterfell. Knowing that the only one which was guaranteed to come back in due time, was you, returning to your now permanent home to what would become your husband in Robb. Jon would be left with watching his brother do the duty of two things Jon could never have, and the remaining eyes of Lady Catelyn to hate him all the while. The two younger siblings he adored the most as well in Arya and Bran, unlikely to return as long as father stayed in Kings Landing.

There was no future for Jon left in Winterfell. So he told his uncle he didn't care about any of it. Didn't care about marrying or having children and he meant it. Only for the strange softness in his uncle's eyes that Jon couldn't quite read at the time.

“You might. If you knew what it meant.”

Jon didn't understand it then, but he was beginning to think he did now. Standing in Wolkan's study, Jon was finding anything meaningless for his attention and focus to fidget with. Pretending as if he didn't want to just find you and drag you in here to deal with this here and now. Trying to find the right way to ask how it was he was sure he determined you weren't without the ability to bare children without making it obvious.

“Ramsay had raped her for months, and that whole time there was never a hint she was ever..” The sentence felt atrocious on his tongue, but there was no reason to mince words here. Wolkan knew what had happened to you, he was there for all of it.

A morose look fell over the man's face, and Jon felt a familiar swirling in his gut. A feeling that you, Wolkan, and Theon were all keeping some of the worst from him. That no one had actually told him the extent of what was done to you. But an even tone fought through Wolkan's grim expression. “No, I can assure you of that. Roose Bolton was a cruel man, but he was also a smart one. Had there been a hint of her being with child, he'd have his men drag her out to the godswood to marry Ramsay then and there. He needed their child to be legitimate. But that doesn't mean he was not aware of what was happening.”

Pacing somewhat near the window, Jon slightly turned his head. Brow furrowed with a rougher tone then before. “He wanted his grandchild to be a trueborn son, but he still let Ramsay rape her knowing it could've happened at anytime.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Jons jaw clenched. “Doesn't sound smart if you ask me.”

Wolkan however, had an answer without hesitation. “No it would not be a wise choice. Which is why he had me brew just enough of the makings of moontea, that it's taste could be hidden in a drink with a strong flavour.” Jon turned to him fully, his eyes widened in something disbelieving but found no such lie in the genuity of Wolkan's face. “Wine was suitable for them to both ease her nerves her enough to attempt to dissuade any out bursting behaviour, and it quite successfully overpowers any taste when just the right amount is added to a mixture of mint, wormwood, and tansy.”

Jons arms fell to his sides as did a heavy weight in his chest. Stepping forward enough he braced his palms on the top of the chair across from the man at his desk. Exhale wavering, it was striking to him the extent to which he was relieved. The utter devastation he knew you'd have felt should the first child you become pregnant with after losing Robbs, being with Ramsay. Your heart was far more gentle then it used to be, such a thing might have ended every resolve you had let to keep yourself alive. But now here he stood, realizing it didn't happen because through no fault of your own body.

His voice hardly a strained whisper, “She doesn't know this, does she?”

Wolkan shook his head. “I am afraid not. Roose Bolton was the only one other then myself who knew about it, and by the time she had returned to Winterfell after escaping, you had in only a matter of days, taken Ramsay's head. After that, I didn't see it appropriate to bring up her time with him more then necessary.”

Sighing deeply, Jon wasn't quite sure how to approach it. Any of it. He was sure of the facts themselves, but his methods weren't quite what any would call traditional. He had always thought of it in a back and forth manner all his life and yet now that it was right in front of him begging to be dealt with, none of what he ever considered was the right answer.

In a fantasy, it was easy. You'd find out as normal, tell him, and nothing else could make either of you happier. But Jon couldn't live in a fantasy, and the truth in the real world he lived in was marred in far more blood and pain then what made it easier for you the first time he suspected. Fair was fair however. You withheld the information from Robb, and this time, Jon was withholding the information from you. Telling you gently that it was alright to find love in your life after Robb was one thing.

It was another to tell you that new life was growing inside you, underneath the scar that took Robb's son from you far too early.

But Jon was sure, because Ghost was sure. Ghost sensed it almost right away. Not even days after the first time the blue eyed stranger marked a place in your dreams did Ghost start acting different around you. It took over a week after that when Jon was inside his mind to figure out what his direwolf already knew. But now a fortnight passed, and he was no closer to an answer then he was when he found out, about how to tell you.

Wolkan's tone drew him from his mind, eyes wide and a genuity in how brightly innocent they were, it was more clear to the Maester that Jon had been asking questions not to speculate on trying, but to perhaps talk his way around figuring out how to handle what already happened. “When she came to see about her fertility, it struck me how dispondant she was about it all. Too calm, too even toned, as if any answer wouldn't phase her whatsoever. Presumed every worst case possibility and walked in ready to confirm what she already felt was the answer.”

Nodding, Jons face tried to tighten itself. Working to keep calm and steady, but any close eyes could see the workings and twitches begging to carry far more emotion then he wanted to show about it. His voice, a scratching rasp as if forced out. “She didn't just lose her son that night, she lost everything. Only to come back to something even worse, and all she has left of my brother is that scar on her stomach.”

If Jon couldn't bring Robb back, he wished there had been a way to protect Robb's from being taken from you too. Jon wouldn't have let that change anything. He'd still love you exactly as he does, and he'd love Robbs son like his own. Make sure he felt loved and cared for, wait until he was old enough and Jon could be able to properly tell him about his birth father, the charming trouble maker Robb was. That night in the cave Jon had seen a black haired baby in your arms, but Jon never wanted to trade Robb's son for his.

It was never supposed to be one against the other. He and Robb were each others closest companions their entire lives. Jon's jealousy was never about being better, taking from his brother. Just sharing equally what they both could be. Or have.

Jon could share your love with his brother even now, but Jon couldn't stop the fact that it would be his son you were having, not his brothers. He couldn't change that, and now, he was too selfish to not have that. From the study the two stood in, Jon could easily hear the muffled voices and yells from the training yard where he knew for a fact was where you were. He should tell you, he thought to himself. Before you all left, he should tell you. But once more, Jon wasn't sure how.

“How long until I'll be able to fight with two daggers in each hand the way you can?”

Dropping the blunt practice sword, you looked flatly at Arya. Your voice as monotone as it was with a sarcastic hint of dryness. “When you've been doing it for over a decade then maybe you will be as good at it.” Swinging the sword in your hand almost in a childish wave, you beckoned her to find her form once more.

She had been vague about what kind of people she was with in Bravvos, but it seemed they focused her more on being sneaky and clever instead of physical training. Meaning you had plenty to pick her back up on in the training yards these past days. Finding both of you paired well together. Both smaller and quicker then normal soldiers, both fighting with an emphasis on your left hand alone, and knowing not to try and overpower an opponent, but rather work around them to find a weak spot.

Better then her last days in Kings Landing, but your father had taught you that if you get too comfortable with your skill, then it eventually will worsen compared to those around who aren't as confident. Arya, seemed to feel an impatience at the idea. “I'm already fighting with a sword, how different can two knifes be?”

Dodging your quick moves with ease, you did however feel the breaking need to smother a smile at how proud Ned would have been to see where she is today. Your eyes shifting away from her own form, “Very different. If you think we're fighting quickly now, you need to be able to move much faster with a knife. Most of the time your opponent will be far better armed then you in such cases.”

Many men could fight with a sword in hand, not many could yield two knifes in a respective hand each and keep up against a sharp, long blade. You had against Aegon, but even then you took a good amount of a very painful beating to gain that upper hand. And more then a few words and very close calls you'd rather not think of which were traded as well. But neither you nor Aegon had spoken on that one after the fact.

“When do you think I'll be ready then?” Your eyes dropped in a lack of amusement and for a moment Arya dropped the advantage her pose previous held to whine at you with far more of the tinge of a jesting sister. “Come on, I'm not ready for that but I can't know when you think I will be?”

Your eyes only narrowed, and your words would not speak as well as your answer could be. Only a few quick paces forward, and her distracted form was thrown off balance enough to send her own practice sword to the ground. Her eyes narrowed at you as you finally let a smirk out, gesturing with your own blade to where hers lay limp. “Learn how to not let your guard down so easily first.”

The moment she crouched to grab it, you stepped forward and kicked it a few feet behind her. Her brows annoyed as was the scrunch in her face, moreso at the mischievous brightness in your own smirk. “If I turn around to go get it, are you going to stab me in the back?” Your head only tilted to the side slightly as if to challenge her to find out.

Your smirk forming more to a grin at how instead, Arya kept eye contact and walked backwards rather then turning. Her voice once more piping back up as she returned to a proper position. “Kicking a weapon away from someone doesn't sound very hounrable.”

“In that case, you'll be the most honourable dead girl a swordsman has ever beaten.” She came at you far harder for that one. Sparring with Arya certainly was a little more fun then it was her older brothers, at least there wasn't two of her to gang up on you and spend an hour toying with you until they knocked you into the mud.

It wasn't until you both were a bit more on the side of out of breath when she brought it back up. Her arm reaching across the weapons hold to hand you hers with an ask hoping to sound causal. “If I'm expected to use the dragonglass to defend myself, shouldn't I know how to use it properly?” Her eyes rose in a brightness hoping to look innocent but alas, she was more transparent then she assumed.

Head dropping a bit with a narrowing of your eyes before you turned back to putting things back with a huff. “It's there to protect you. You're not using it to fight them, Arya. It's there to keep you alive, that's all. You don't need to know more then just how to shove a blade into something.”

Something distant sat on her tone, which you couldn't quite pin. “So, stick 'em with the pointy end?”

You nodded your head slightly to the side, more a mumble on your lips then a real response. “That's the essence of it.” Not looking, you missed the easy smile forming along Arya's face before she covered it up soon as you looked back up to her gaze.

Your eyes a bit as distant as hers had just been, only without hiding whatsoever. Hands braced against the wood as you leaned against it somewhat. “It really was the Hound you were with?” Nodding, your jaw clenched as you turned slightly away, voice dropping more to a mutter. “Difficult to imagine he was fit to care for anything more then running down boys.”

It had been a long time since any had brought him up to her. You could still recall that night, walking the path from the Inn with Lord Stark. The Hound walking his horse in the opposite manner, the poor boy hanging across it. Beaten, bloody, and limp. Not an easy task it was imagining that sort of man would ever turn out to be different for the good.

Arya's voice was quiet, and you knew it still sat heavy in her heart as much as it did when she found out the next day. “No one even remembered his name-”

“Mycah.” Her head shot up with wider eyes, your tone softer as you leaned your forearms across to look at her more on her eyeline. “The butchers son. His name was Mycah.”

Neither of you said a word for a moment. Struggling in her throat to find the right emotion to let out, and you with the patience to watch her get there on her own. She didn't see it happen or his body, but it was still the first real violence she was exposed to. If you were to judge now, you'd say it led her down the path to where she stands now. Walking not a few feet behind her, Arya found a small platform to sit down against.

Or, more like collapse down onto. With a deep exhale, all her weight was tossed in one go as she landed heavy like the far away look in her gaze. Slowly, you worked your way around until you sat next to her, giving a fair amount of space for her mind as she finally spoke. “I wanted to kill him. The Hound. We travelled for almost a year and the entire time I wanted him dead. But then..then he really was dying and there was nothing either of us could do. I could have done it then, he told me to do it. Told me all about the day he killed Mycah to convince me..but..he didn't mean it.”

Your eyes narrowed, but only silence followed.

Arya wasn't unlike Jon in that way. Sometimes you needed to let her get it out before saying anything otherwise she might talk herself out of being open or vulnerable. “It wasn't about revenge. Not really. But people kept doing horrible things to innocent people and never were punished for it. The Hound killed my friend and he got to walk free and no one but me remembered his name. I wanted to kill him because otherwise Mycah would never get any justice. But that day, he was dying and I realized killing him then would only be for revenge. Because killing him didn't feel like justice. Not by then.”

She had been somewhat vague about that day. You didn't want to pry, but it led to her getting on a ship to Bravvos. It felt important to know regardless of not liking the idea of invading her privacy. “You don't have to tell me, but what happened? You said there was a fight with someone, but I knew the Hound a long time. Winning against him in a fight isn't exactly simple.”

It was a name you hadn't thought of in years. You only properly met the woman for a short time an only spoke directly once, and it was not quite an interaction you'd throw yourself at to relive. Out of everyone to run into Arya Stark and Sandor Clegane, it was Brienne of Tarth. Carrying shiny new armour and a sword with hilt made from Lannister gold, given to her by none other then Jaime Lannister himself.

Even if you didn't know the information that you did, you still wouldn't have gone with her either. But you did know her. And now you knew that as strange of a guardian as the Hound would be, Arya wasn't alone when she was with him. Wasn't in such constant danger, wasn't across the bloody Narrow Sea because she thought there was nothing left for her. One fight with Brienne of Tarth however, and it took years for Arya to return to Westeros to her family.

You didn't care where she was now, but you had a rising stack of reasons to wish to never see her face.

Inhaling deeply, you knew better then to let your own bias interfere with Aryas own story, and kept everything of your grievances with her from the statement of facts. “She was the one who helped the Kingslayer escape.” Her head whipped over to you, but all you could see was how infuriated it had made you and Robb. “Your mother was manipulated into thinking you and Sansa both were in Kings Landing. That returning Jaime Lannister would mean you both would be returned to her, so she had Brienne of Tarth help him escape against Robb's own orders.”

Surprisingly, it was anger which followed from Arya. “She tried having the person she was with chase me, but I hid from him. Both of them until they left. Wasn't long after that I got on a ship to Bravvos. The only person I knew I had left was Jon, but I was in the Vale and Jon was all the way at Castle Black. I knew I wouldn't be able to get there on my own. Not alive.”

If she had expected the gesture, she leaned into your hand running gently along the back of her head in an instant. Merely a mutter coming from you, “You're here now, Arya. You're back with him, that's what matters. If all we do is think of what differently we would do in the past, you're not going to get over what actually happened.”

Arya nodded, something held back in her chest from how much she put in to appearing not upset, but you both sat there until she came back on her own to the present. Her voice rough, but forcing itself out regardless. “You're sure I can't come?”

Eyes wide and hopeful, but yours not rejecting or harsh. “There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. Until Jon returns, that will be you.” Her brows narrowed as her head looked to the ground but didn't argue. Your hand slipped across her shoulders comfortingly. “You know this place, and these people. Jon needs someone he can trust beyond doubt to take care of things while he's gone. And he'll never trust his men more then he trusts you.”

Inhaling shakily, her voice actually spoke out as if now nothing had been weighing on her. “Would have been nice to meet your father, though.” Your sudden laugh surprised most nearby.

“That may be the first and only time someone has ever said meeting Stannis Baratheon would be nice.”

You had all in previous days debated what exactly to do, how to go about solving one of the largest problems that had plagued the Nights Watch for centuries. Suggestions came from every corner of the room but the simple fact was that the North alone did not have enough to man the Wall. Not the way you were all beginning to realize was going to be incredibly vital to whatever was coming. Each time a new idea came about, you and Jon would look at the other and still once more find reasons to disagree with it's sustainability.

At one point, it hadn't gone anywhere long enough that Tormund had stood with his own suggestion. “We're used to dealing with the Crows, you want us to man the castles?” But Jon disagreed.

He quickly shut it down in truth. “Even if I get every single free folk, that still isn't enough to guard and restore sixteen forts. I opened the gates for your people to find land and lives, not to make you guard the Wall for us. You're people need time to prepare for winter as much as we are.”

Debates of numbers and manpower had come about for a bit. It was never an easy subject, even in peace times. The Wall hadn't been properly manned in centuries, to find a way to do so now with such limited people and resources felt near impossible. A losing battle more then it already was. The weight wasn't easy on Jon when he was Lord Commander and it continued to be a difficult problem as King in the North.

“We would need at least double what we can spare, most castles need significant restoring, most tunnels before being abandoned were plugged with rocks and ice. Flooded to freeze over before it was left to ensure nothing could get through.” Leaning somewhat with his palms braced against the wooden table before him, you could see Jon trying not to tense up the muscles there more then they already had been.

Voices piped up from more spots around the hall. “We'd need more men then we can spare to handle that, most of us are busy ensuring our own homes and lands are prepared for winter alone.” From your seated position, you could see the workings inside Jons head spinning. Something was forming in his head, but he would keep it until the answer was a clear to present as possible.

Your own voice agreeing with the majority. “If you're right, and each castle would need hundreds of men to properly restore and man, we would still have to sit here and debate which ones are the most important, and which we keep abandoned. And having five or six instead of three is hardly giving the Wall proper defences.”

Jon's head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing somewhat as he glanced to you. “Between us and the free folk we still don't have anywhere near the numbers for nineteen castles. It's more men then we have in our entire army.” Only, his eyes drifted the moment such words left his mouth.

Lips parted somewhat as he refocused them to you, then the lords attending as soon as your own eyes brightened just a bit. He was right, what the North needed was an army to man the Wall. Not anywhere needed once but desperate now that the storms drew closer. There wasn't an army that size willing to spare it's fighting to help the North. Except one that already had.

Your voice barley a mutter, almost a grin asking to breath itself out with it and you looked up to where he stood. “He likes you better, might actually say yes if you propose it to him.” Jon only turned once more to look down at you, close to a twist in his face as if to tease you for it in his expression alone. Though, it was one which you both knew wasn't a bad idea regardless.

Jon couldn't stand and wait for an answer though, even if such help would not come, there was still one place that begged to be looked at. One which had an answer which potentially, three separate people had parts of a puzzle to. Plans had to be made regardless. Even if only one place needed to be looked after, Jon would find a way to make it work. Sam had continued to underestimate his use for this cause, and every time he was the one stumbling upon answers.

He had seen the army of the dead. He had been the one to prove his father wrong, and show a bravery few men could ever have and shoved a dagger of dragonglass into the back of the creature coming for Gillys son and watched it shatter it to pieces. He discovered the old manuscripts and runes in the citadel, and he had been the one to leave with them stolen away on his person knowing the answers in there were more important then not stealing them.

Though, when returning to Winterfell, Jon had asked him where he had gotten a Valyrian steel sword, and that confession had made Jon laugh quite a lot. The first thing Jon truly learned about Sam, was that his father had forced him to take the black or otherwise threatened to take his life for not growing up to his standards. From what he could gather from you, you knew Lord Randyll Tarly by reputation as a commander not a father, but you had it on good authority that the toughest commanders were too the toughest fathers. So it seemed fitting that the last thing Sam did before leaving his family home a second time, was take the families sword Heartsbane with him.

This time, it wasn't a direct new answer Sam had provided Jon with, but a place. Something which by his description, held more of a key then anyone alive currently knew a thing about previously.

Organizing a small group to head out first, look the place over before anything else was done about it in particular, but one thing seemed to come to Jon. An idea as uncomfortable was it was logical, after all, he still wasn't quite convinced Lord Beric had been wrong. The only other two people who knew what both returning from death and bringing the dead back to life felt like, were also the ones who saw fit to travel North for their own cause of what was to come. Even if they disagreed on all else, perhaps the four of you were not in the same place as only a coincidence.

“Isn't it your job to talk him out of stupid fucking ideas like this?” At least you thought to yourself, Tormund was still willing to speak the truth. You didn't quite feel exactly as they were, it certainly came across as risky, and uncomfortable even if you followed Jons logic.

Walking to his side further down into the undergrounds of Winterfell you tilted your head briefly to the side in almost dismissal. “If you've got a better one.”

Mumbling a bit almost in amusement, knowing full well Jon could hear you both. “Three dead people, two dead raisers and me. Starting to think I'm missing out on something.” Eyes almost glaring to the side without any meaning that Tormund would take offence.

Jon held the most calm in his own words, turning somewhat to wait for you both to catch up. “They know things most people don't. Been through things only we,” Jon gesturing to yourself, “have been through. I don't care if I like or even trust them. They're apart of this, somehow.”

Looking up to him, you added in a plain simpleness. “Thoros knows how to fight, Beric knows how to fight. If they're going to be in the North regardless, may as well put them to use instead of keeping them in our home.” Tormund looking doubtful asking in what seemed like a bit of a condescending jest that they were the ones who kidnapped you in Barrowton. Your eyes found Jons, tense and on edge as you settled the same feeling growing in your veins. “In a manner of speaking.”

Nodded for the two to keep going, you could hear as you passed the not so subtle whispering towards Jon of, “You two are made for each other. Both morons.”

You had never seen Thoros this sober before. He looked as miserable as your worst days felt anymore and just as it always did now, such a shared attribute shivered unsettlingly in your blood. You would rather not know how he felt. Beric held himself together a bit more, not unlike the manner in which Jon could be unreadable some days.

First it was only you, then Jon, now four stood in the same place and you couldn't comprehend what the point of any of it led towards. It seemed more on the side of sober however, Thoros did not come to a dissimilar conclusion. “I'd say I haven't been feeling like myself, but quite the opposite it really is. If you wanted to torture him,” gesturing to Beric who watched just as carefully to you both as Jon did him. “You did a wonderful job. Quite tedious my company becomes in sobriety. Tell me my Queen, you don't strike me as a drinker like King Robert. How do you handle it, I've always wondered.”

Thoros's eyes on you was unsettling still further, but in a worse way, you understood it. You saw the lure to drinking with this sort of weight. One no one else understood but the ragged priest with far too flowery language for your liking. Jon however, answered for you with not a shred of patience for the direction of the conversation.

“You said you came North to fight what was coming. That you wanted to be part of this.”

Beric Dondarrian however, remained as even toned as he ever was and it grated on you. “We don't want to fight this fight, your grace. We have to. Same as you. War is coming and our Lord needs us here more then in the South fighting against Kings.”

Shifting between them you found barley a breath to spare, hissing out to them. “The last thing your Lord told you to do, you sold Gendry to the red woman, who was taking him to slaughter like a lamb. What should we care what your Lord tells you?”

It wasn't the reason Jon was here, but in an instant he found a stronger argument brewing between you and Beric. Who was steadfast yet defensive as he stood. “We do what our Lord bids, no more, no less. It isn't up to us to question what he wants. If the boy was meant to die, he wouldn't be alive now. But he is.”

Both of you a step closer to the iron bars, your tone seething as did the sharpness in your eyes. “He's alive beacuse only one person stood up to do the right thing. You promised he could stay with you, and then you sold him for gold, because all your talk and still you're nothing but an outlaw.” You think perhaps Jon warned you in your name, but you heard it little in your actual mind.

And Beric found no reason to hold back as such. “Outlaws banding together to protect the innocent-”

Another step and more anger flooded in you almost unusually strong. “You killed those innocents just to draw me out-”

Cutting through both of you, Jon came close to a yell. “Enough.” Your eyes watched Berics sharply and he you, but still felt the slight pull at your back to draw you away from him and closer to Jon behind you. “We're not down here for this.” Tearing your gaze from Beric to Jon, did the guilt follow with it.

The sharpness in your eyes softened almost as soon as you found his grey ones, and with but a nod you felt you shrink a bit in on yourself. You didn't like nor trust these two, but you didn't come down here with any intention on such an outburst. Nor did you know really where it came from.

“We're all here for the same reason. It won't matter who did what when the army of the dead come, what happened in the past stays in the past from now on.” You knew he was right, this was what he was always trying to do. Throw away the fighting and direct everyone on the only path that would matter.

Jon and Beric both watched each other carefully as you looked at none. You should be calmer then this, what was wrong with you?

Speaking low behind the bars, Beric sounded in agreement. “There's a greater purpose at work, and we serve it together. Whether we know it or not. I can't change the past, but we came here to ensure there can even be a future. We may take the steps, but the Lord of Light-”

Tormund however, had no qualms of being exhausted with this rhetoric. “You southerners never know when to shut up, do you? He's giving you a chance to make up for being piece of shit, either take it or stop talking about your damn god. It's only us men down here.”

In the quiet only the crackling of torch fire was heard until it blended in harmony with Jons low rasp. “You tell me you're on our side, you need to prove it.” Thoros asking from previous he only watched it play out, how they were do to that. Jon with keys in his hand, found the unlocks of the cell door. “You come with us, fight for the living where it matters.”

Still on a side akin to somewhat pathetic, Thoros's expression twisted to a morose jest. “As long as it's more interesting then sitting in a freezing cell all day.”

Yet as you watched Jon and Tormund both unshackle them, you couldn't stop the wonder. Coming down here, you knew why and agreed why. Anger in outbursts weren't like you anymore, it came out of nowhere when you had faced far worse opponents without the blockade of iron bars with more of a firm hand. Though, a brief glance shared between you and Thoros, it seemed he did not question it the way you were.

Bringing one back changes something inside you he said. The months passed was beginning to make it feel like that cost was your sanity. Your sense of stability in a well mannered, stoic demeanour when it mattered. But that wasn't the only hold on your mind either. Bringing dead to life in one direction, and visions and green dreams in the other.

How much longer could you even hold yourself together?

A few stories always stuck out in your mind, or at least, it was the ones not as intriguing as the others. But the ones which instilled a chilling in your lungs when you first heard them. The thing that came in the night. That was the the first you remembered hearing.

Your first visit in Winterfell, told to you by Old Nan, who even then seemed to be as old twenty years ago as had been the last you saw of her. She held all of those stories, and it was the scary ones which you found yourself always drawn to. The first was that story which stuck out in your mind.

Many years ago it was said, four apprentice boys went to their Lord Commander spinning terrified stories that something came for them in the night. Each boy however, gave different accounts of what had happened, and each described its appearance vastly different then the other. As a result, the Lord Commander found no reason to take their ramblings seriously. Within a year it was said, three of the boys had died and the fourth had gone mad. A century later it was said to have returned, but few lived to speak of what it had done once more.

Robb had snuck up on you when you heard that story, and you could still recall the laughter from he and Jon when you nearly jumped out of your skin with a shriek.

Another you never forgot was that of the seventy nine. It was said that seventy nine men had deserted their posts from the Nights Watch, running South. One of the men, the youngest son of the Lord of House Ryswell had taken them there hoping to seek shelter. Instead, Lord Ryswell had called upon the Nights Watch to his home and the outlaws all captured. Including his son. Dragged back, holes just big enough for a man were carved into the Wall and each and every deserter was forced inside. Spiked in with spears and horns before sealing them all back up with ice. That they had left their posts in life, and so their punishment was that their watch never ended even in death.

So many passed through the years, the Rat Cook serving a King his son in a prince and bacon pie. The ghost of Danny Flint, brave and young and how the songs sung about her were sad and pretty but what ended her life was not. The blind knight of Symeon Star Eyes, sapphires in place of where his eyes were both lost and somehow still saw the figures of hellhounds fighting before him. The Mad Axe who walked the halls and butchered his brothers in the dark. Many stories all surrounded this one place, and yet as you rode upon the destination it looked nothing of the sorts.

The Nightfort was indeed the largest of the castles manning the Wall. It was the oldest as well, first ever built by Brandon the Builder himself, and where everything of the Nights Watch truly begun. Built on slanted land of rolling hills, surrounded by snow and ice it looked unassuming in every way. It was only a series of large buildings, made of stone and metal but nothing which told you it matched such stories you listened in great fear as a child.

The main building itself was large. Broken towers and paths and tunnels leading around to the many smaller sections sealed from the cold outside. Some places had only one wall standing, while others remained as if never touched. An octagon of stone, walls carved like steps sat much like that, mostly put together with nothing out of the ordinary, it's dome room as strong as ever.

It's outside however, was unique. Time had turned it into that of a small forest. Lush with fauna and flora surrounding thick trees that hid the castle well from prying eyes. The twisting branches of white poked through buildings and around others down to the ground again as if time had bound building and bark together.

All sat on your horses looking to it in the distance, Jon next to you with piercing eyes scouring every corner he could see from here as if searching for danger even this far away. The only other one as close to you both was Sam, his voice breaking the only noise of blowing wind around you. “Doesn't look quite as intimidating from out here, I admit.”

Jon's tone breath filled but still heard as he looked with wide eyes, as bright as the snow around him. “This was where you met him, Bran?” Sam confirming it only to watch as Jon let that breath out in a noticeable exhale. The cold around you all visible on the way out. Spoken to himself, knowing both by his either side would hear. “What were they doing, two teenagers bringing a crippled boy beyond the Wall?”

He heard it all before, but still it didn't sit well with him you knew. Sam couldn't get from the two Reed children nor Bran what they were doing here or why they needed to go North, but claimed they had to do it all the same. Sam had given them some of the cache of dragonglass he had found as his only way of protecting them best he could, but he could not convince them to come back to Castle Black if they truly didn't want to.

But you looked upon the vastness of the Wall and wondered, what was it Jojen Reed had seen? What did Lord Bloodraven show him that needed Brandon Stark so desperately for? Why any of it? Why you now?

You could hear Sam to your right, “They said they were needed. That they could only try and stop the Others by heading far North.”

Jon made the very point which came to your mind. “No one's ever survived as far north as they say these things live. No normal person at least.” Finally did his gaze catch yours from the very corner of your gaze to the side.

Not anything normal, but walking in the minds of a dream? You both had done that now.

The main gate was already prepared to be opened, likely from the first time Bran had arrived with the two Reed's getting here. The main yard was as overrun as it looked from the outside, but a chilling wind blew through the winding branches of white bark sticking up and around from the earth. Eyes all finding one way or another to something as eeiry as the next. Out of the entire group which came, Jon insisted a short few ensure its safety first.

Climbing off your horse, once more only Jon spoke and with a command as quiet as it was without room for question. “We'll split into groups, make sure it's empty. But be careful.” It was a large place, and even as you found your eyes on Ghost, the direwolf looked as not comfortable as Jon did. Both glanced to you, but for once did not make a fuss about you walking out of his sight. Not in front of the group of nine within the yards now. “Tormund, Theon, go with her. You two, with me.”

Thoros and Beric looked as many did coming to the Wall for the first time. A strange awe. The greatest structure ever built, and the unusual feeling which came with being near it. Ser Davos in another direction with Maege Mormont. Olly beside you, sharing a not so insignificant glance at being back in such a place.

Not holding the same conflicting memories which had that of Castle Black, but the Nights Watch a reminder all the same.

Every room which was held within four walls looked identical. Dark without fire light, only the outside peering in to give any hint of what was there. Empty, more empty, and a space that told it was far larger then the last fort you had been in. Was easy to understand to you, how this was the first built. It was grand, but too grand to maintain with dwindling men and resources.

You supposed the creation of a united Seven Kingdoms did not help such a matter. Considering this very place was abandoned after one visit from Queen Alysanne Targaryean. It was said she found it dour and depressing, and used her precious jems to build a newer, smaller castle. Another which later was abandoned too.

The four of you walked with little words shared. Something about this place felt off. As if it made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end with no explanation as to why. Wherever Ghost went, you weren't sure, he seemed to not like this place as much either. Sensing what you all could or more but you ventured further into the creeping dark.

Out of the three men walking together on the other side of the castle, two voices were quiet, but the same pair which tended to always speak with such a cadence regardless. “If the dead were here, there is no use in biding their time hiding in shadows.”

Jon's eyes peeled from every corner to give somewhat of a glare to Beric. The entire journey here he had tried to enlist Jon in this cause for a god he didn't believe in. Wars had been fought over single individuals before and always ended in one side with far too much blood spilt. This wasn't about one god or another, it was about survival.

Many times including now, he let him speak and said nothing in return. Jon had found great skill in the ability to let others talk endlessly at him without uttering a sentence. On the opposite end, he sensed that normally it was Thoros who was the talker and yet he had been quiet. Quiet with attention trained much on you, whether you noticed or not.

Not attraction or malice but something Jon sensed he could not understand. Thoros was to Beric was what you were to Jon. The one his new life was in debt to. The one who brought him back. However desperate Jon could feel looking at you, it was not the same he knew, to the trepidation you had spent months looking at him like.

Jon would feel lost without you, but he also had wondered if you truly would be lost without him.

He couldn't even understand death in the same manner. His mind attached itself to Ghost. The second the cold begun to seep deeply into the wound in his heart, Jon's gaze was in the stables. Lower to the ground then normal and sharper to the point it wasn't quite as pitch black. At the time, he almost wondered if it had been a dream. Only to finally realize where his mind was. When Jon made his way outside, he found the blood. His blood.

Drenched in the snow and his senses picked up it's path instantly. By the time Jon was looking down at his own dead body, he was fairly sure he lost part of his mind. You though, it was nothing of the sort for you. You had seen the world fade, and as soon as it was gone you opened them up once more.

You compared it to waking up from a dreamless sleep. Groggy and heavy, no actual recollection of the seconds before you fell asleep and if you dreamt anything you had already forgotten. Only that feeling was even worse in death. Jon didn't know what that felt like. His mind was awake from every second he was dead to the moment he returned in his own body.

Only Beric would understand exactly how you felt in one way, and only Thoros would understand in another. But not both. Your returned from the dead, already something Jon knows drastically changes part of a person. Then your new life brought Jon back from the dead. Another thing Jon now knew drastically changed a person.

You were the link between all four of them. Five if he was including what used to be Catelyn Stark.

An amalgamation of them all in a mind too traumatized to handle it. Jon once thought you were the only two who understood each other, but not even that was true. In a painful honesty, he thought to himself, there isn't a soul on earth who understands what is in your mind. No one could. Death haunted you in every facet of your existence, how deep did it run? How often were you trained on the thoughts of death the way Jons was tethered to his obsession with you?

Their voices around him spoke as they traversed the empty, grim halls. Thoros the one speaking when Jon found it in him to pay attention to their conversation, and wishing in an instant they'd stop. “Anything still hiding around here, it'd be old but if there is one which doesn't care about it's age, it's rum.”

Beric to the side of Jon responding in jest, “Would make you more bearable, my friend. I do admit.”

The whispering hiss from Jon was far more fed up with both of them then any previous words had given off. “Or you could stay sober and handle your problems the way the rest of us have to.” He elected to ignore the glance both men gave one another. They were right, Jon did not think you were all in the same place for no reason, but good company remained rare in Southerners clearly.

Raising an eyebrow, Thoros gave a look assuming Jon could read the jest in him. “Do me a favour, your grace and ask your lady if she thinks handling our burden is more bearable sober, or good and drunk and uncaring?”

His jaw clenched. If that wasn't a good option for you before, Jon would forbid it now of all times. That time, he openly glared. Anything which might have come impulsively from his mouth by then, was stopped by a faint sound somewhere in the outside.

Ghost had begun to bark and growl in great volume.

“Old Nan used to tell stories about this place.” Glancing over to Theon, he looked a bit less on edge then you felt walking through these halls. Turning away your eyes looked to the dark unlit by fire and felt nothing but the same bitter cold floating around you. Olly turning to look at him asking what kind of stories.

You could hear the smirk on Theons face. “The scary kind. The kind that would scare the hair on your head right out.”

Tormund rumbled with his own amusement. “Somewhere on the North side of the Wall here there's an old tunnel one of my own tried carving to get through to the other side. The Crows caught him and buried him back into the wall. Some say you can hear the sounds of a pick through ice if you're quiet enough.”

Olly glared at both of them. “Those aren't scary, they're just stories.”

You admired it a little, you knew he was tense but refusing to let the men in his company make him appear just the boy his age was. Mumbling mostly to yourself, “Leave him be.” They caught it, but your eyes followed a white branch poking through the floor, stretching and twisting around a pole and reaching up to the sky.

It was everywhere, these branches. From the earth and white like a heart tree but without one standing tall where it would seem to make the most sense.

Still they bickered behind you like boys. “You're scarier then any bed side story.”

Tormund's voice almost amused as his attention was now directed at Olly. “Aye, boy. I probably am. Carved up more Crows then your Axe Man ever did I bet.” You'd roll your eyes if you didn't still feel that strange creeping just under your skin.

A gloved hand reached out and carefully pushed a creaking wooden door open, one strong looking companion sat on the other side of the room you stepped into, looking almost as if it had been barred off before being left. Glancing somewhat behind you, the sight of the much smaller Olly continued to bicker with the very large Tormund. Catching Theons gaze, his narrowed at likely what was your tense frame. Unsure as to what was on your mind, but alas you were not sure either these days.

Some you felt fine, others you felt as if you flared a great temper from nothing, others your emotions ran you a true mess from teary eyed to the chilling paranoia sat with you now. It was erratic how wildly you were beginning to swing in how you felt these days. But explaining that now was of no use, and you both walked into the room all the same.

The cold in here was striking, as if whatever wind flowed in, was captured and stayed due to it's layout with not a single window to the outside world. Only the light pouring in from under both doors the rest of the room remained hidden.

Nothing seemed to stand out to you, and as you pressed against the barred up door you tried instead to give it a shove to no avail. If it led somewhere else, it would have to be seen to be accessed on the other side. Coming to your side, Theon looked it over with the same thought. “Whatever's on the other side is empty most likely, been abandoned for hundreds of years anything that might be in there's long dead.”

Sharpness sat on the edge of your tongue, “Easy to say that when you've never been the dead thing.”

His eyes rolled as yours shined with almost a bratiness as you paced further into the cold, darkness of the room. Catching your eye only slightly, you looked to what almost might be that of a bedroll. Splayed out in the darkness by the end of the room. Kneeling down by it, you looked with wide eyes and your lips parted in a slight confusion. Scattered things laid about as if someone had been here not so long ago. Standing up, you turned to Theon.

Nodding behind you to the same sight, his voice with the same curiosity. “What is it?”

You didn't answer, because as soon as he was finished, something seemed as if it crept from the dark behind him. The door slammed shut, and this time the hand which did it was cold and grey and almost blue.

But not as blue as it's eyes.

A figure with ragged hair and a snarling mouth stomped it's way right to Theon in the same instance those very sounds emerged from the darkness you stood within as well. A hand fighting against Theons defences, the thing finally slammed him into the wall in the same instance two pairs of hands grabbed you.

One almost jumping from behind as another snatched at your legs and dragged you down with your head slamming hard into the floor. Both figures captured your sight instantly, one knee bending upwards as if to push back the one most over top of you, while your hands were fighting to grab at the other wrapping his own cold ones around your throat.

Yelling behind the door was barley heard over the inhuman growling of the blue eyes around both of you. You think Theon might have yelled your name but you couldn't even sense anything the closer the one by your head leaned in, almost drooling on you from it's snarling.

Your other leg pinned down by the larger figures weight you could only push against with your knee enough that you could barley try and slip your other leg free with each jostle. Yet every movement your lungs burned inside your chest as the tighter the cold hands around your neck got.

One, two, almost five rough kicks and finally you managed to shove it off of you enough you could reach what was hidden under your cloak from your grasp. The cold was like glass in your touch and it was enough. Barley managing to reach up to shove the dagger into the eye of the one above it let out almost a gurgling with wide eyes, before the sight of black drenched your vision, stinging your own eyes.

Knowing the other was coming right back you flung yourself to the side in just the right time the blue eyed figure crowded you. Back against the wall in a somewhat sitting position, but you shoved one forearm against his neck to keep you from him as his own hands grabbed at your other to fight against the hold of weapon.

There was nothing in it's eyes but blue and nothing from it's sounds but such snarling. A sound of sinking flesh filled the air beside you and then you heard Theon call to you much more clearly. As if it could focus on two, it's other strong hand came out and grabbed at the wrist holding the dagger in Theons own, keeping both ends at bay.

Just as Theons other hand came around to roughly grasp at the thing, you thrusted your head forward against its in a painful slam. Theon then pulling it almost behind him using the force pushed back. Hauling yourself up, you and Theon looked to the other for only a second before more of snarling came out from it, and both of your daggers sunk into different parts of him. Theon's in the forehead and yours deep in it's neck, a vicious black smothering both of you in splashes.

Collapsing to the ground, Theon grabbed your arm with concern on him before more blue found your eyes. A fourth opening just as it screeched to fling itself right at you both and it seemed far smarter then either of the others. Leaping through the air as if a performance and flung Theon to the side with no thought.

Raising your dagger up it grabbed your arm and shoved you back against the wall as felt it tighten so much the dagger twisted in your very grip as your hand twitched.

The force sinking it deeper into your skin until it sliced through and blood pooled against your gloved palm and soaking the dagger. Only in the same instance, did the blood against your palm grow hot, so hot it felt extreme and it only got worse each passing moment. Not even a single second went by before it was so hot you cried out at the burn until it inflamed whatever it soaked.

Following the path to the dagger and the sensation seemed to shock the blue eyed creature for enough moment you shoved the rest of the blade into his own hand. Stumbling to the ground flames swam from you and now flooded the creature until he was engulfed in inhuman screeches on the ground. Writhing as Theon ran to your side and hauled you to the now empty side of the room.

Stopping with a grasp on the other, eyes wide as the creature finally stopped. The fire burning through what moulting skin it had touched before sizzling out on it's very own. Both you and Theon stood there as the silence finally came about the room.

The sounds outside the door no more as if you were left together alone in the cold, but perhaps it was truly just the ringing in your ears of blood muffling anything to your shocked senses looking to the four corpses now dead without question.

It was only as Theon tried calling your name did you begin to fade back into the world, looking over at him. Both of you covered in..something. It covered both you it felt thick like molasses and a murky black colour unlike the blood on your glove. Theon had grabbed your wrist, yanking it up for both of you to see.

Nothing was burned, nothing was burning. The leather sliced through and torn from the force, showing the skin underneath and the cut deep within your palm. Blood soaked the area. Perhaps against the black covering you both, made your blood appear as if it stained itself such a striking red it almost glowed the way those creatures glowed blue in their eyes.

Panting in the feeling rushing through you both, and yet your eyes slid from the blood on you to one another and what was there to say? You couldn't think of words, you weren't sure any existed.

Only did the world return to you did your heart feel as if it was leaving your chest. Almost leaning against his side, Theon did the same as you both collapsed against the wall. You sinking in a shock to the ground. If it didn't feel real before, it did now.

His grip never left the wrist attached to your bleeding palm so red the colour was terrible. But your eyes all looked to the creatures before you. Only somewhat in the distance, did you register the sound of barking. But against the numbed shock, you and Theon only sat there, you with a vague awareness that anything outside this room had ever existed before.

Whatever short time passed you did not know, only that sometime later did the door once too sealed closed to open, burst. Thrown against the wall, it swung on it's hinges with aggression. Ghost barred in first, his own barking and growling matched by the hostility he stood with looking at the bodies now on the ground.

Everyone else followed, but you hadn't noticed until two hands grabbed you and the world came back once more as it was the urgent rasping of Jons voice and the desperation in his panicked grey eyes that pulled you out of such a state. His hands on your upper arms as if he had been shaking you to snap out of it, until your eyes found his and he moved to grasp your cheeks. “Are you hurt?”

He didn't actually let you answer, pulling back to find out for himself but you didn't even know what was there. You felt the sting of cold air against the slice in your palm and the pain along your neck that had Jons eyes darken and his face twist in an anger. Only, there was no one left alive to take the feeling out on.

Moving to force the black moulted substance off from where it splattered against your face, his thumb ran over your cheek before swallowing harshly. Pulling you up to your feet without needing a single bit of effort from you, but not actually letting you stand any further away from him then right against his front.

Turning you both to the rest of the room, one arm on your waist tightly, the other running smoothly up and down your bicep as if trying to soothe himself rather then your still quiet, shocked self. Theon sat against a crate, hands braced against his knees watching the bodies in a silent uncertainty as Olly sat close to his side checking on him.

Somewhere in the back of the ringing in your head, did you hear the faint sounds of talking. Hardly finding it easy to attribute one voice to another unless it came from the rasp directly behind you into your ear. A shortness on Jons voice every time he spoke, but another one now rumbled as if shaking the earth.

“Probably shacked up here after coming through the Wall. Some of my people are shit at trying to work together. Thought this place was big enough no one would find them.”

Your eyes trained on the burned corpse, your hand clenching as it continued to sting. Slowly you could feel Jon reaching to grab it, unfurling the fist you had made only to keep your palm free. No doubt his eyes now trained on the gash in your palm, the red slightly more normal then it had been in the moment Theon did the same.

Jaw clenching looking from it to the corpse, you felt a pounding in your heart trying to recount how it happened. It was sudden, quick, and you barley could register anything until it was already off you and on fire. Somewhere in the distance you could hear Maege asking, “How'd that one end up like this?”

You and Theon glanced to each other, an unknowing in his eyes but yours slid from him to the entryway where Beric and Thoros stood. They on the other hand, only looked right at you as if telling you something you should already have known.

Jon behind you roughly finding his voice, “We'll bring them out into the courtyard. Let the others in, and burn the rest. It'll be dark soon.” With a mumble of your name, you didn't notice Jons touch trying to pull you with him. Eyes trained unblinking on the dead, on the burned body. And it was not just one body charred in black from fire you couldn't stop looking at.

First the wildfire, now this. You were no better then her. Good people shouldn't be capable of creating things like this. Letting Jon pull you out of the room to wherever it was he intended to bring you, part of you wondered if she felt as sick as you did looking at the things she's burned away.

Only, you had no reasonable way to know, that she didn't.

You knew you were a little more dispondant then normal when you explained what happened, but for once Jon understood entirely. He had you perched on the edge of some crate, Olly having run down to the horses to get him something to at least wrap your hand up in for now. Jons voice was quiet, only loud enough for you to hear him inside what otherwise would be the echo of the corridor. “Couldn't use my hand for days. The whole palm was burned.”

Eyebrows almost raising as if an attempt to be amusing passed you by, your voice a little strained from the nerves inside you settling. “You grabbed a lantern with your bare hand, that's a little different.”

Having cleaned most of the strange black blood from your face, and then cleaned your hand as must as he could of your own, Jon started to gently cover the cut with the cloth slowly. Not quite looking up to your eyes as he focused. “And you set him on fire with your bare hands.” You tried to protest that you didn't do anything but Jon shut it down with your name as if in lecture. Looking up at you, blending an upset with frustration in his twisting expression. “It attacked you, cut you. You said it felt like it was burning and then it catches fire?”

Your voice was short as it was a mutter. Brows narrowing looking away from him. “My apologies if I'm not jumping at the opportunity to boast I can set men on fire at will.” Jon argued that isn't what he was saying but you only shrugged a shoulder halfheartedly.

Sighing out, silence sat between you as he finished caring for your hand. Letting it move down to rest on your lap, Jon didn't yet move away or help you down. Instead he stood there, a hand trailing on your upper arm and the other on your thigh next to where your wrapped hand lay. Not forcing you to look at him either, Jon only spoke in a somehow, even softer quiet then before. “We'll discuss it later.”

Moving more to try and catch your eye, he repeated your name. That time getting you to nod, flickering a glance to his. Bright and grey and shining wide at you with none of that frustration from moments before. You weren't quite sure it was an appropriate time, but you did it anyways.

The uninjured hand reaching up, tracing your fingertips along his jaw before letting it slide tenderly to the back of his neck. His hair up giving you the opportunity to better prompt him to meet you half way, as your eyes slid closed. Lips meeting each others, Jons hand on your arm moving to cup your cheek, keeping you there against a soft kiss until he heard you sigh lightly into it.

Before you could pull away, he pressed two more chaste ones to your lips. Moving to press a final one to your forehead before he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you up onto your feet. “You don't have to be brave when we're alone. It's alright if what happened back there scared you.”

Almost a soft smile formed, your hands perched still on his waist as you steadied yourself getting onto the ground. His eyes painted over with something almost adoring as you spared no care this time to spin a falsehood. “Good. Because it did.”

His face tied between soft and serious, Jon sighed out with a heavy weight behind him. “It should scare you. It scared me.”

Raising an eyebrow slightly, you found yourself returning a bit to something more normal on the inside at least. “Stupid and scared. We are made for each other.” That had Jon trying to pull back a mighty smirk right away, causing you to smother the same in yourself.

Guiding you away from the halls you were in, Jon muttered lowly as he pulled the hand on your lower back away. “Wouldn't want anything else.”

If you were feeling well enough to laugh, you might have. But not quite yet. Ice and fire still haunted both sides of you and each one radiated the looming threat of death. A threat which had followed your entire life, a shadow. You only hoped it all happening around you so rapidly now was always meant to happen this way, and not the things you brought to them.

The fire burned high and bright, eyes all watching intently as whatever conversations happened in the now larger group, you barley could hear a word. Watching the already dead burn once more, you couldn't stop the wonder all the same. Things the red woman did, things the Targaryean was whispered to be doing. What was the line between them and you?

Why when you used fire does it make you a good person and them not? Is it guilt? Is it the pit inside your gut of what a horrific manner to die that separated you? Even already dead, your eyes were dark and expression cold but disturbed as you watched. When did it stop being about survival and start becoming the actions of a monster?

A voice trickling in beside you, and it was likely the only one who had anything to say that was an answer for something of the many questions passing through you. “Through one manner or another, the Lord raised us both. And it's his power which runs through us, through our blood. I have discovered the same, blood which set something around you alight.”

Your arms crossed over you, not bothering to dress any warmer in the dark night sky overhead. Still your clothes were covered in the same black substance. Your eyes on the flames before tearing away to Beric beside you. “I've bled since coming back. Why now, why this time?”

He thought for a moment as the pair of you remained ignorant to the ones watching and listening to your conversation. “That I don't know, but both instances of the Lords power showing in you happened here, somewhere along the Wall. Perhaps it is a way of telling you, your fate lies here, more then anywhere else.”

Little patience in your words but tone was kept even. “Your god didn't need to force me into lighting a man on fire to know that, my lord. I've known that far longer then today, that my place is in the North.”

A chuckle on his breath didn't sound anything comforting, but little did to you anymore. “I didn't say it was the North your fate lies with, your grace.” Finding his gaze, you followed with an unblinking path to that of the dark grey ones not so far off with Ghost on one side and Sam on the other.

It wasn't unlike many years ago. Just on the outside of the gates at Castle Black did Jon stand by Sam as the corpses of wights burned before them. Only that time, there were far less dead in his memory and far more the fear of the unknown sat between the group that day. “I translated what I could about them, and it sounded as if the dead didn't rise back up like that until the the Others came through. Their presence was enough to bring them back as wights.”

Lost in a thought for a moment, Jon considered the idea. “If they were this close we'd have known by now. And they weren't anywhere near Castle Black when Othor came back.” Both men stood there looking at the bodies, both with more understanding of what was coming them any of the rest did in a way, but still there was something missing. Something that they weren't privy to it's information.

Sam glanced passed Jon, his own eyes finding the narrowed, troubled ones you sported across an expression just as disturbed as the rest of you looked. “She's a lot more like you then I thought.”

Jon's face turning to a confused one before he realized what was being referred too. Inhaling deeply, he shook his head slightly in a mutter. “Not if you say that to her.” From the side of his vision he could tell Sam was looking at him. “She'd tell you it's insulting to me, putting me at where she thinks is down at her level.”

Sam only huffed a laugh out. “Oh now I know she's really like you.” Jon's glare not angry but more of a jesting irritation as he said Sams name in warning. “If I told you that you're just like her, you'd get angry at me for that all the same.”

Jon knew he had a point. “Well I don't want her to be like me. I only want to keep her safe.”

He knew it came out of his mouth without much thought to it, but it truly stuck out the moments the words left Sams mouth. “Nothings killed her yet.” Both slowly turned to look at each other, Jons face almost twitching to laugh at how quickly Sams widened ready to dive into an apology. “Really though, Jon. You're doing fine. All things considered, everything bad that's happened to her isn't your fault. We can't protect the women we love from everything, no matter how much we want too.”

It was the wrong time to feel it, but something possessive in Jon begun to growl at that idea. The wolf in him did not accept that, would not accept that.

You were fairly certain it would've been easier to have tossed the material right into the fire then getting out what was left on it. Washing what was left on your face, hands, and arms you had turned your attention to trying to scrub out whatever bled on your clothes. To no avail it seemed, whatever it really was it was coated thick on there like dried paint by now.

All but tossing it against the floor, you stood with a huff trying to will away the dizziness from the fast movement off the ground. Hand pressed to your forehead, you knew it wasn't really the clothes bothering you. It didn't matter, that was trivial. It was everything else. The way they attacked you and Theon but it was as if you were the one they wanted to get to.

Armed with the same things, but it wasn't Theon that three out of four had focused on ending. A glance of the wrapping on your hand, and you dropped it down to your side. Mystery upon mystery, they added up with such speed it seemed.

“Do you wear this little because you're stubborn, or because you like making me go mad?”

Jon's voice easily accompanied the sound of the door opening, and only then did it occur to you that once you had stripped down the offending articles of clothing, you left the shift on without anything else to accommodate. Looking down then back up to him, who admittedly looked very warm, you found a bit of a bashful fluster travelling up your chest.

You tried to cover it up with something clever, but you knew Jon saw right through it. “That's assuming I could wear too much that would stop you from having that same reaction.” The charming smile you adored slid onto his face with ease, but the second he made any move to dress down he almost switched right into lecture tone to stop you.

Only, your hands reached up to his front, slowly taking things off for him with a gentle care you paid no attention to the look on his face he always had when you'd do so. Doing the bare minimum to pull off his own gloves, Jon let his hands now rest on your waist, watching you in quiet attending to him as if it was so natural for you.

Even though it was, you sometimes could forget that this was not something Jon was used too. It came easily to Robb. A highborn, trueborn son, heir to Winterfell, he was used to people wanting to do things for him, but Jon still struggled even all these months later together.

Too much of his life you knew he wanted to rely on himself, his own skills, survive all on his own if need be. Jon was still a bastard and thus maids and servants never quite clambered to attend to him quite the same way. Not that Jon would want them too. But you knew he let you now, due in part as an excuse for his large, warm hands to trail along the thin material covering what little it did of you.

Muttering lowly as you worked away, “Sometimes I can't tell if you're looking at me like that beacuse you want to take the rest of it off or not.” Jon only replied, voice deep and rasping that he always wants to do that. Warmth bubbled up in your chest and Jon caught it in your eyes, his own smile far easier coming. “Had I known when I met you that you would be this insatiable I might not have been so polite.”

Your hands stopped the moment he said it. “You don't remember the first time we met.” Eyes slinking up his chest to his face, the more yours dropped the more his eyes blazed with a mischief. “The first time I met you was in the training yard the morning you arrived.” You had little memory at all of that first day, but you weren't sure if he was just trying to tease you.

Tearing your eyes back down you begun to move more around him, taking the heaviest layers off to the cold of the room. Your voice low as you worked. “My point was, you did a good job at hiding what an animal you are.”

To you, nothing was thought of it. Simply, kneeling down in front of him to once more undress his heavier outer layers. But, not quite the other way around. Jon wasn't a man normally tempted like this, were it to come down to a choice he'd much rather dine between your legs then ever choose you pleasuring him instead. And yet, he knew his voice husked out a lot rougher then he was mere seconds ago teasing you.

Eyes almost hooded a it looking down at you, flexing his hands to stay respectful off of you. “You didn't make it easy.” Your gaze tilted up at him, and it really did not help. Only an innocent curiosity on your face, but for whatever reasons Jon felt his blood rush hotter. “Probably was a good thing we weren't supposed to be together. Have the freedom to know I could've done what I really wanted and not been so afraid.”

The skip in your heart shouldn't have added so such a fluster, but it did. Your attention directing back down you swallowed heavily before responding. “And what is it you really wanted to do?”

He was silent for a little bit, the nerves inside you forcing the tips of your fingers to steady without sign of shaking. Only as you moved to his boots did you notice his own hands finally moved. The top of your vision catching how swiftly he pulled the last layer against his torso off as if the cold meant nothing to his bare torso.

Still, Jon said not a word. Waiting for you to finish putting them aside before reaching down. Gently a few fingers under your chin to tilt you to look up at him, Jon not sparing to let out a deep exhale as he looked down dark and bright and all seeing. His accent thick as it was rough, “Every night for years I spent wondering what it'd feel like to be inside you. But there's something I want to know. When did you want me?” Your brows narrowing in confusion, his hand sliding to toy with the strands of hair loose at the side of your head. “When did you first think about letting me take you to bed?”

The stammer in you without saying a word was almost embarrassing, the fluster flushed in your face so obviously but Jon didn't even give you the relief of a smirk. Just watched with dark eyes and a low hissing tone. “Be honest, if I asked you how many times in your entire life you've even touched yourself, could you count it on two hands?”

Your head turned away, the embarrassment mounting in drastic fashion all of the sudden. Mumbling, “Jon..” Without any words to explain what you meant.

He continued though. “Three hands? Four?” You knew right away by the falling drop of your face, how you almost shrunk away from him even kneeling like this that he knew. The embarrassment flowing down the river and finding itself replaced with a wide eyed humiliation. “It's not less then five times.” But you didn't say anything, and almost looked away from him more. Hardly able to ascertain his tone over the feeling in your chest of almost shame. “How many?”

You managed to get it out, but it was a mumble only Jon could've picked up on. “Twice.” He was silent and you felt that shame flare higher and higher wanting to explain yourself. “I didn't..I didn't know for a long time that was something I could even do..have..feel like that..”

Truly you were ruining him, he knew. This wasn't fair, he wasn't trying to dangle how innocent you were as a something to mock but Jon knew he was so unbelievably hard. Cock strained against the only thing left covering his body and once more that perverse feeling returned. Even all these years later you were too innocent for your own good, and that was a dangerous mix.

Jon stood there, knowing you shouldn't be kneeling so beautiful and telling him just how truly innocent you've been your whole life, when he knew far too intimately how it felt to spill so deeply down your throat. That it let tears fall from your eyes at how overwhelming he could hold you there. He knew he shouldn't want that, he didn't want it because he didn't want to risk being too rough or unsafe with you.

But still he thought, never once did you ever do anything but swallow every drop of his seed as if you needed it.

He was tied between two things, but he knew he couldn't act like that with you. He had to be gentle, show you love instead of making it all about him. Mumbling your name, Jon held a hand out, prompting you to stand up properly, before he could pull his cock out to slide deep in your mouth.

One hand at your hip and the other tilting your jaw to look up at him, your lips parted, lungs almost burning in anticipation for what he wanted. Days when something risked your life, Jon was wild and unpredictable those subsequent nights. He lacked any other way to cope with almost losing you, but to be the one rough with you himself when alone. Brushing his lips against yours, your hands at his waist tightening but he only muttered with hot breath dancing across your skin. “Lay on the bed for me.”

Bracing yourself with your palms back against the sheets, one knee somewhat bent keeping you propped up, unsure of how to even attempt to give him something to look at. But as Jon turned to face you, attention was grabbed from where you were looking with ease. Rough hands undoing the laces at the top of his breeches before uncaringly shoving the rest of it off.

Already his cock stood hard as could be, begging to take what he wanted from you. One knee he climbed up onto the bed and the next, all but crawling over top of you like he had his prey exactly where he wanted. Only his hands grabbed something along the way.

Pulling your shift up and off you, Jon tossed it without a single care. His eyes black as the night outside but he only watched you, chest breathing heavily as he looked you over. Top to bottom trailing down as if he had every inch of you already memorized.

The air was heavy, tense as you both were perched on the bed until Jon once more stole your breath with ease. Grasping at your legs, Jon pushed them wide, yanking you down the bed before slinking down so that his broad shoulders kept you from being able to close them. Hovering just where he would torment you for hours, only the hot breathe you felt tracing along your skin spoke what you didn't expect.

“Why didn't you ever try it more? Touching yourself?” Your head fell against the sheets, turning into the pillow somewhat with that same embarrassment. Your name coming from him with another prompt, hands resting along your outer thighs soothingly. “It's alright, I'm not trying to embarrass you. But I need to know.” All you did was barley breath out an ask of why when he smiled too gently for the way he was between your legs. “Because I spent a lot of nights spilling into my own hand pretending it was you. Did you not know you were allowed to think of me?”

You wanted to be anywhere but here, you didn't understand why this mattered. Not a shred of confidence was found in your mutterings. “I tried but then I'd remember when my Septa used to tell me girls shouldn't do things like that. Then both times I tried it never..it didn't really work so I stopped. It felt good when you were doing it, I thought that meant that only you were supposed do that.” Were you not bare, you would have made your way to the top of the Wall by now and flung yourself from the edge.

Jon only soothed his touch against your thighs. Breath warm as his voice was soothing, no judgment not even desire, just comforting. “Try for me.”

“Here?”

A grin cracked at how your voice snapped against the words. “Right here. Show me what you think it is you weren't supposed to be doing.” The Queen of one word answers you were and asked why, and once more Jon was there not to pressure, but to alleviate the suffocating fluster in your lungs. “You're in the North, you married a Northman. You belong to the North now, not the new gods always trying to convince you wanting to feel good is something to be ashamed of.”

It was cruel how well he knew you. How he could rip down your walls in seconds and expose the shivering insecurities underneath. “Are you going to laugh at me if I say I don't know what to do?”

Instantly. Jon laughed instantly.

Trying to pull away from him, you didn't want to do this. You didn't want everything today to end with Jon making fun of you for something you spent years thinking you were sinful for trying. It was easy for him, he was a man, he followed the Old Gods. No one cared what Jon did or wanted like that, but you were taught your entire life. Marry, breed and repeat. Pleasure wasn't part of such lessons.

“Woah, woah-” Jon reached up, grasping at your waist quickly and pushed you back down into the sheets, hoisting himself up to see your eyes a little better. Now mostly hovering over your stomach. “Darling, I wasn't laughing at you. Not like that. You..” His eyes were admittedly wide, and earnest. The grey far less black and more light once more. “You're just..cute.”

Mumbling as you wanted to squirm away, the tickling his breath on your stomach causing. “Isn't that a seductive way to be seen by your husband.”

In response, Jon let that same smile sit on his lips before pressing it down to your stomach, almost kissing a non existent path to something before pulling a thigh up, and somewhat over his shoulder, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh there as well. “I want you to understand it's okay to feel good, it's okay to do things just for yourself. But you're not good at doing nice things for yourself, so we're going to stay right here until I've taught you that properly.”

The strength to say anything still was a little too on the embarrassed side, but when Jon wanted to make a point about something sensitive, you had long learned to trust the way he delicately chose to do so with you. Nodding, you still didn't really look anywhere but the stone wall to the side of the room whispering, “I don't know how to start.”

In another world that may have come off as petulant, but you didn't want to be in charge of this sort of thing for yourself. Being so open, so raw, and so vulgar in front of Jon felt like he'd judge you for it but he encouraged it with the most gentle eyes he always held towards you. “Give me your hand.” Smartly choosing your luckily uninjured left, he opened the fingers right in your palm before sitting it flat against your stomach. “I'll lead, you just follow along for now.”

Barley nodding, you felt him trail your hand down your stomach, tracing just barley over your mound without the courage to even slightly look at him. Fingertips of his over top yours on the opposite sides, Jon gently dragged your hand down slightly until just barley did you feel that slight jolt of pleasure fluttering across your clit.

Biting roughly into your lip, you felt rather stupid as if you had no idea what any of this entailed. You had been touched this way before, but here on your own in front of Jon? You felt as nervous and lost as you did that day in Winterfell on his bed, bare for the first time in front of him. Trying to apply a little bit of pressure, Jon's voice was soft. “Come on, darling. Find out what feels good.”

You were trying, really you were. But everything felt wrong, you felt stupid and not looking his way at all did not help the worry Jon might think you were incompetent. Jon always took the lead, Robb always took the lead. You didn't want to be in charge, you didn't want to do all of this yourself for yourself, you'd much rather Jon have let you stay on your knees earlier instead.

Small touches he would try and guide you to something a little better, but no doubt he could see how tense and unrelaxed you were. “If I take my hand away, would it help you to explore more on your own?”

Your response however, was as mumbled and embarrassed as before. Any movement stopping, the moment Jon wasn't actively leading. “Couldn't we do things the way we always do..”

Quiet for a moment, you feared the sigh Jon let out was either disappointment or defeat. Not helped by the sudden feeling of him gently laying your legs out more comfortably and rising up. Only to have him climb back over you, hands pressed on either side of your head as he nudged you gently to look up at him. You were sure the embarrassment was striking on your face.

Before any words were spoken, the moment you looked to him, Jon captured your lips. Nothing feirce or deep or urgent, just a gentle kiss until you settled to something more calm. Enough so that you naturally raised your hands to run along his shoulder and upper back. Pulling away more then once, Jon would reclaim your lips until he found the strength to pull back enough to speak properly.

Nudging your nose gently with his, “Whenever we were separated, I'd always wonder late at night if you were touching yourself the same time I was. I wanted you to be.” Resting his forehead against yours, the gesture rather sweet for the spoke words rasping from his mouth. “I'd pull one of your letters out, reading it trying to hear your voice, try to imagine what it'd feel like to finally slip inside of you. Hoping you were on the other side of the country wondering what it'd feel like to be filled that way.”

Ever so slowly, Jon while keeping your eyes on his the entire time, removed a hand from around his shoulder. Dragging it right back down. Instead of prompting you himself, he only held your hand in the position, knowing the command was already understood. Do it yourself right now.

The jolt of pleasure almost made you jump, the moment Jon knew you obeyed him, let that hand press back into the sheets as he stayed over you. Eyes forcing you to look up at him as he kept going. “Then you were standing right in front of me, after a year of thinking you were gone. I know I was too rough with you, I should've been gentle, should've taken my time, ease you into it.”

Ever so slightly you felt more of a pattern grow easier and easier to follow. Breath increasing as it would then hitch trying to keep steady underneath him, but your bloodstream flowed warmer and tighter as that feeling grew in your core. Trying to recall what Jon would do at this point but he kept talking, kept distracting your too focused mind.

“I was afraid after, if you didn't want it. Beacuse it was all I kept thinking about. Every moment I was looking at you, all I could think about was how you felt around me. How beautiful you looked under me just like this.” A whimper in your throat swallowed itself back down, but that warmth from Jon above was starting to compare to it deep in your core. Fingertips a little firmer, finding a pattern almost to match the cadence of Jons voice.

Nudging your nose with his again, barley brushing his lips against yours to speak. “Even when I woke up, you bare against me like that..” A rough exhale blew across your skin. “I had yanked you down onto my cock before I even knew what I was doing, I was obsessed. I'm still obsessed, I'm addicted to being inside you. You have no idea the things I want to do to you, things you'd never imagine two people could do with each other..”

Your eyes almost fluttered shut as a weak gasp left you, fingertips slightly down just slightly only to let out the tiniest of cries at just how wet you felt yourself getting. Tracing just some of that back to your clit, you nodded. Wanting to find a voice, but Jon was here to do all the talking for you, hovering over you as you breathing grew erratic, as your muscles begun to shake.

“I can't do half the things I want to do to you, I'd get sent to every hell there is for how much I want to keep you locked away, tied to my bed, making you beg for me every second I'm not inside you.”

Oh that faint whine did Jon in. His cock already throbbed terribly, but now it was enough to make his heart race, his hands tighten into fists against the sheets. Your eyes almost struggling to stay open like a true beauty in his eyes, losing yourself to a pleasure he was desperate for you to find. More and more the embarrassment left you, remaining only a burning white hot desire.

A gentle kiss to your cheek, once more the contrast captured your lungs. “The worst part is? You'd let me wouldn't you? You'd let me do anything to you, because you trust me to take care of you.” Nodding you tried to meet his dark eyes, but wave after wave of something tingling passed through you as you kept on your clit just as he wanted. Groaning over top of you, Jon hid his face in your neck, keeping enough of his body off of you to give you the space still. “...fuck, I'm nowhere near an honourable man for what I want to do to you, not even a good one..”

Shaking your head, you tried turning slightly into his close proximity, breathless and weak, “You are, I promise you are, Jon. Always have been.” His own breathing growing harsh against your neck, he was trying to keep from indulging himself in touching you but the edge of that cliff of self restraint was drawing near mighty fast.

Creeping right up on you, your free hand reached up, grasping at Jons shoulder as stuttering breaths found you as you almost arched up into him. Something like sparks of a flame smouldering through you with a swiftness finally had him pull back to look at you. Barley managing to meet his eyes as yours kept fluttering shut, any tension within you left.

That fire burst into a proper flame and spread across your core and through your every nerve, arching up to him even more as Jon forced himself to stay propped up to watch. Your head thrown back with a desperate gasp of his name. It wasn't nearly as powerful as any another had given you, but feeling Jon so close against you had only helped keep it properly strong. Riding out that wave, something needy forced itself into your mind.

Forcing your self upward your hand left without thought as you met his lips. Jon sensing what you wanted right away, shifting his position to grasp at your waist and keep you firmly under him as he bit at your bottom lip. The very start of what might have been a gasp and Jon impatient as anything used such an opportunity to glide his tongue into your mouth, brushing against your own as he leaned over you more.

A far more dominant position then he held previously, one hand as Jon tasted you as such with a greed, did he shift onto his knees more. Suddenly pulling away, the saliva between you snapping as he looked down with something almost authoritative. Yanking your leg up into his hold, grasping by your thigh you were jostled further down the bed as he all but hooked your leg up over his shoulder. Far more on display then he'd ever previously positioned you.

Dark, heavy eyes raking down your bare form until he reached your soaking core. As if he worked himself up, Jons breathing was heavy as he clenched his jaw trying to keep composure and utterly failing. The aggressive look almost could be mistaken for anger as he sent his other hand down between you.

Much more knowing, rubbing tightly at your clit until you cried out, not even noticing the volume of your voice, not that he cared by now. Sinking down he shoved two fingers deep inside you, soaking to the point even just such one small action you could hear how wet you were. A cry biting against your tongue at the differences.

You with that sense of shame, Jons chest heaving all the more as he slid his fingers in and out of you deeply until he pulled from you, impatient. The press of the leaking tip of his cock teased against you, but Jon let that hand drift up. Running between your breasts, grasping not even in greed, almost tenderly to get your attention before running it what he could reach through your hair. You knew you looked a mess already, but Jon truthfully looked no more put together then you felt.

Rasping far more tenderly then such a lewd position had any right being spoken in tandem with, Jon looked with something overwhelmingly adoring. Letting his hand trace down to the bruises forming where the wight grabbed at your neck he swallowed with something far too close of watering to the surface. “I'm so sorry, darling, that never should have happened.”

Shaking your head you felt confused by the juxtaposition. His cock teasingly prodding at slipping right inside of you, and the desperate look as he looked down at you. “Jon, it's not your fault,”

Cutting you off, you stuttered a breath as just barley an inch more slid inside of you, but Jons eyes and voice no less heavy. “It doesn't matter. I need to protect you, both of you. Especially here.”

Jon wouldn't realize until far later into the night then he should've been awake, exactly what he had said. You didn't notice, your mind far too high in the clouds as you tried to find anything of him to grasp at in need. Barley a voice, more of just a weak high pitched breath as your core burned for him. “We protect each other, no matter what.”

Dropping his head, Jon without prompt sunk deep inside of you. The gasp pouring out of your mouth with a needy cry of his name, Jon for once couldn't convince himself to smother it with a kiss. He could barley look at you as you no longer could keep your eyes open.

Instead, his eyes dragged themselves down to watch his cock sink slowly inside of you, every slow pull almost leaving you showing off how soaking you were around him, made worse each slide back as deep as you could take him. Running against something sensitive that had your nails dig into where of his waist you could reach. Still, he only watched.

Again and again Jons cock slowly disappeared into you, made just for him. Your cunt made to fit his cock like a fate, and you were as tight as you somehow also gave him no resistance. You had worked yourself up perfect for him. “Oh fuck, darling..” A rougher thrust and one hand of yours reached mindlessly to the sheets below to grasp at.

More of a slap of his hips pounded into you, pace picking up rougher and rougher until the obscene yet telltale slap of skin against one another gave away what truly taking place in the hour of the wolf. The stretch of his cock never got any better, you always lay there feeling such a stinging burn that you might have cried without. Fucking deep into you rough, and thick and so much of you was only filled with him and you couldn't live without him.

The floating in your heart travelled down your chest between your legs and bloomed within your core as your cries found themselves shameless into the air, yet was nothing against the smack of Jons hips pounding into yours. Back arching as he dragged along your walls as if to torture you with how every sense was overtaken with his touch, his deep growl, his cock too thick to handle and yet he sunk as deep as you could take every time without the agony such a girth should give.

He couldn't take his eyes off watching your cunt take his cock like you were born to do only this. Your eyes shed tears at how little breath you had left each time he pounded harder. His head somewhat leaning against your leg up on his shoulder, other hand grasping tightly at your hips to bruise the skin with just more imprints of him. Forcing you steady as with a grunting growl in his chest did he fuck into rougher.

Pound after pound hardly a word was spoken not prayers for the others ears only, begging for mercy and none yet for how much he filled you over and over and how much your insides twisted like a tight coil edging itself to snap with a violence. You wanted Jon close but he couldn't tear his eyes away, and every few thrusts he watched did Jon pound rougher.

Teeth gritting Jon rambled swears under his breath watching you take him, watching how soaked his cock was every single time he managed to pull himself out of you even a little bit, and how little Jon ever wanted to be anywhere but so deep inside you every drop of seed he'd fill you with could never leak out. Leaning as much as he could over you, the leverage tore the growling from Jons chest out of his mouth as his harsh slam of hips pained you.

He was too rough with you, but you wanted more and more. Wanted Jon to treat you however he wished but you also wanted him close to feel and kiss. Begging his name, only it came out as tiny pleas of need in the slapping skin around you. “Jon, gods, Jon you're perfect..please, you're so good..”

Eyes rolling into the back of his head Jon shoved the leg of yours off his shoulder and forced them both wide to make room. Both hands pressed beside your body again, the slapping of skin fucking rough inside your soaking walls would've sounded too rough had it not been the only music you desired to hear the rest of your life.

Grasping his waist, your chest lurched and your core burned once more and yet the feeling inside twisted and fogged your head to the point not even the bed below you existed. Only the touch Jon gifted you. His forehead falling against yours, accent thick as anything as he slurringly rambled with the pace leaving a cruel pound, switching to an overwhelming slap as he thrusted into you faster and faster.

“Cum for me, darling. Please, I-” A groan leaving his mouth had you lurch up to kiss him. Deep and messy and he bit at your lips as he did so before he yanked back from that to ramble more. “Cum around me, I need to feel you, please..cum for me and I'll fill you just the way you like I promise.”

Nodding you met his lips in a kiss just as rough, Jons cock just as fast and unrelenting as he carved a place for his cock deep in your cunt made for him alone. The air between you both left how cold it was, the sweat covering both of you, a fire would have nothing on the heat now.

Gasping into his kiss, Jon slipped his tongue inside you once more just as you clenched around him. Muscles screaming as they seized, the coil inside snapping with such a roughness the tears once more fell from your eyes, but Jons kiss and tongue refused your begs and pleads for mercy. Jon had none anyways. Not the speed in which he kept pounding into you with no reprieve.

Your mind high in the clouds, just as Jon almost snarled into your kiss, spilling deep inside of you, making it feel like his seed was thick but burning hot as he pumped it all deep. Hips not relenting a bit, Jon shook in keeping himself propped up but more and more his seed filled you.

Almost falling, Jons forehead met yours again, one hand reaching up to grasp at the headboard above and pounding into you still. His own breaths as unsteady and stuttering as your own, but his hips never gave up the slapping into you he created. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders and back of his neck. Letting him hide more in your own neck as your nails dug into the free skin not yet covered by whatever strands fell from their pull up.

Jons other hand holding at your hip still rutting into you despite the overstimulated cries singing into his ears, he needed more. Jon craved more just as he needed to spill inside of you again, and again and as many times as he could give no matter what.

He knew now too, that if you passed out, if Jon wasn't done, you wanted him to fuck you anyways.

No rhythm or pattern followed this time, just the desperate fucking of a great wolf who needed to fill his mate at any and all cost. Nothing existed but Jons touch, his voice, all of it. Only him as for Jon it was only you. Only you two. That's all there was for him nothing outside mattered as long as he had you two in here and with a cruelty forcing a groan to pour from his mouth of your name, the thought had Jon spill inside you again. The thickness of his seed made fucking you over and over afterwards obscene, the sounds humiliating for you but Jon would willingly loose his sanity if it was this which would take it from him.

It hurt, how much cumming around him hurt, the burn he stretched you with but Jon would pull back and kiss you and you'd let him hurt you just like this for the rest of your days. Only with him did you feel as if you craved anything he could give you.

Looking up to his eyes, grey and bright and the only thing that mattered to you, barley a whisper you managed to breath out, “I love you.”

Jon couldn't say it back beacuse he lost the words for anything. Nodding, Jon rutted into you harder and kissed you deeper with such a greed the new gods would've been ashamed should he have cared. Spilling inside you once more, you weren't sure if he stopped. For the second time in over three weeks, your mind slipped into sleep at the pounding of his cock soaked inside you.

Once your eyes had slipped closed, the hand at your hip slid up to your stomach. Pressing down to feel nothing, not yet. But Jon knew the second that changed, he was going to feel no better about how desperate he was to fuck you. If he could give you a daughter right now too, he would stay inside you until he did just that.

You were long asleep, and shamefully filled with his seed by the time Jon slid out of you. Even in your sleep you whined. A tender kiss to your lips, and another when Jon pulled back to merely look at you first. He turned you in his arms, holding you close into his chest and one hand pressed at the back of your head to keep you tucked into him.

Jon almost failed you today, he arrived too late, they were all dead but it was still his fault he wasn't with you in the first place. You could take care of yourself, but Jon wanted you to let him do it for you, he'd do anything for you.

But something he knew, wanted him and you deeply involved in the winter storms of the far North. What that role was just yet he didn't know, but he would stake a high bet on it that the true answers to that lay here. In the North, the cold and the Old Gods. It all connected somehow, and for whatever reason, it seemed like the gods were saying that Jon and you together belonged right in this mystery alongside the Others.

High up on the Wall, the reports had been growing more and more every night but he had to be sure before he said anything.

He was given this responsibility and what led to this being his position meant he wasn't messing around. He wasn't taking it for granted with a snarky comment or dismissal anymore, beacuse they all knew better now.

Black fur barley doing anything in the high night wind but he walked up to the ledge the others stood at regardless. They called him up here for a reason, and as he stood by the ledge he saw just what the men had been whispering about for days. Only now it was close enough he could see with his own damn eyes.

Jon would be at the Nightfort by now he estimated. It wasn't far, it was close enough, and he wasn't willing to wait for an army he wasn't sure would come to their aid a second time to pick up the slack, and he didn't trust sending a raven to get across the seriousness of what this meant.

It would be unlikely he didn't know, but they all had to be on the same page now more then ever. The Nights Watch was no longer an exile stuck at the end of the world. They more then ever had to be the shield that guards the realms of men. The North together. All of them, just like Jon had told them.

Turning to the others, he said without room for question. “Ready my horse. If I leave tonight I can get there before the new moon. If they're this close already, Jon needs to know now.”

Edd stood high up on the Wall at Castle Black, and in the distant night sky of the North did the stars and black night start to shimmer. Closer and closer it was drawing and now he could see it.

The dark was coming, and a strange glow of shimmering green light within the sky waved like water along with it.

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

[bippot]

*Sorry it took soo long! The big doc that I had all my plans on got corrupted and I had to re-do the plot of the last few chapters cause I couldn't remember what I'd originally thought was gonna happen!*

Summary: How many times does Vigilante need to get injured before Harcourt finally gives in and hires a medic to help out with the squad's injuries? Far too many times, that's how many.

When it's uncovered that a fancy hotel is linked to, not only what's left of the legion of butterflies, but also a string of weird deaths and missing persons reports, the only two for the job are lovesick Adrian and the newbie.

Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Gun Violence, Blood and Injury, Undercover as a Couple, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Summer Vacation, Butterflies, Alien Invasion, Stitches, Weird Biology, Creep in a Bathroom, Aphrodisiacs, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Drugging, Peeping, general weirdness, Human Experimentation, Eventual Smut, p in v, Human Farming

Peacemaker, Adrian Chase Masterlist - here

Previous chapter: Raw

Y/N stayed awake all night. She couldn't sleep no matter how much she wanted to. The worry that Adrian would suddenly choke on his tongue or go into shock in his sleep was far too prevalent in her mind for it to shut off for a few hours. He seemed fine on the outside. As far as she could see, the aphrodisiacs were out of his system. They'd been fucked out. But, there was no way of knowing if there were any side effects that might be brought about. For all she knew, there could be an effect that wasn't visible until hours later and she needed to be alert for that.

Around 7 in the morning, he began to wake up. Y/N let out a sigh of relief as she watched him open his eyes and blink at her owlishly, a small frown marring his brows before it was replaced with a smile.

"Morning."

"Good morning," she replied in a whisper, smiling softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better." He shifted on top of her, causing her to raise a brow, and hummed in response before pressing a kiss on her shoulder. A mischievous look flashed across his beautiful emerald green eyes. "We had sex last night."

"Yep."

"Like, a lot of times."

"Uh-huh."

"And you enjoyed it?"

"I did. Did you?"

"That's an insane question to ask. Yes! Of course I fucking enjoyed it!" he barked playfully as he propped his chin up with his hand. An eyelash had fallen onto his cheek so Y/N gently brushed it away and his brain couldn't handle it. Adrian was closing the gap between their lips in a second flat, crashing his mouth onto hers in a passionate, desperate manner.

Would he ever find someone else who was so sweet to him? Someone who understood him so well? Someone who cared enough to take care of him despite his rough edges? Someone who wouldn't run scared after hearing a word he said, or look at him like he had gone completely crazy?

"When we get back to Evergreen, I'm going to challenge Harcourt to a duel."

"...What?"

"I'm challenging her to a duel and totally gonna win it," he continued, ignoring the incredulous look that crossed her features, "For you."

"Why?!"

A smile spread across his handsome face. "Yeah, she's the reason that we're not together in real life, right? Cause she's got this claim on you or whatever - " he began but was interrupted by Y/N laughing at him. Adrian blinked at her.

"Emilia is my sister," Y/N explained, not at all hiding her amusement about his completely misguided view on the siblings' relationship. "Technically half sister."

"SISTER?" He repeated, dumbfounded as he stared at her. "How long has that been a thing?"

"Um...since I was born. I guess."

HOLY FUCK! His mind was blown. This was vital information that nobody had told him. Did everyone else just assume he picked up on that? Or did they all band together and purposely not tell him so he'd look like an idiot when he asked?

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I assumed you were told."

All of his body weight suddenly was on top of her, pinning her beneath his body as he pressed a kiss directly on her jawline. "I fucking wasn't," he muttered gruffly in her ear as he nuzzled it affectionately, making her giggle, "I wish I'd known earlier because I would've put the moves on you so hard!"

"Yeah? What's your best move, huh?"

Honestly, Adrian didn't have any moves. None. He wasn't good with women. Other than his nana - RIP - and Dolores, he hadn't had many women in his life that actually liked him. Those two were elderly women that saw him as a child to be coddled than a 'man'. Men should have moves. He's a man to Y/N. Yeah, he could have moves if he tried.

"The only move I have is being so fucking surprised that you actually like me! You! A total babe from the hottest planet of absolute babes. Like me? That's literally insane!" he babbled as he kissed up her neck. His hands worked their way under her shirt, cupping one of her breasts as his tongue flicked against her sensitive skin. "If we ever get married and you want kids, I'll happily give you as many as you want. We'll have an entire litter of the little shits and they'll be so fucking cute because they'll have your genes. Or if you don't want kids, we could have cats. Or dogs. Or maybe a few ferrets. I think having a ferret would be cool."

Yeah, his move worked. There's nothing more attractive than earnestness. And the promise of commitment with a guy who you desperately want commitment with. Y/N was sold. She'd already been sold. She was sold the moment she'd met the guy - 'the idiot named Vigilante' - that she'd been told to patch up.

"Is it a good move?"

"I adore you. So much."

His expression turned so bashful as he gazed upon her, admiring the beauty in his eyes as he ran his fingertips lightly over her bare midriff. She bit her lip, her smile growing brighter as her fingers threaded through the strands of his hair, playing with them absentmindedly. "I'm in love with you," he blurted out, unable to stop himself.

"I know." She whispered in reply, smiling warmly up at him. Her heart was bursting with happiness as she looked up into his gorgeous green eyes, taking in his breathtakingly handsome face before leaning forward and capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. "I'm in love with you too, champ."

Adrian smiled against her lips, pure relief and joy flooding his veins as he kissed her back eagerly. This was the best day ever! Nothing could ruin it!

Their smooch came to an abrupt halt when Y/N yawned right up against him. "Sorry. I'm sorry. Just tired," she apologised, yawning once again when her sentence ended.

"You didn't sleep?"

"I was in a worry."

"About me?" Y/N nodded. "You were worried about me. Wow, thank you. Nobody has really done that for me since my Nana passed. Yeah, uh, thank you. Kinda makes me feel special, actually."

Slightly awkwardly, he chuckled after his admission - despite the fact he'd just professed his love for her - before giving her a peck on the tip of her nose. "Go back to sleep. We've still got an hour or so before breakfast and I'll do some gay bee reconnaissance while you're out so it looks like we're working really hard instead of all the fucking and sleeping that we actually do."

That was a good plan, one that Y/N was so prepared to carry out. She let Adrian peel himself out of their embrace so he could retrieve the remote controlled bee from its case but as soon as he was back with her, she was falling asleep with her head on his chest. At first, Adrian completely forgot that he was supposed to be spying and just watched Y/N sleep. He realised that he did that a lot. There was this giddiness inside his heart whenever she proved that she trusted him enough to go unconscious in his presence.

Maybe it wasn't as much as a big deal for her, but for Adrian, it was almost impossible for him to allow himself to become vulnerable with anyone else in the room. There was one mission before Y/N joined the squad where they had to share hotel rooms. Vigilante, as much as it excites him to be around Peacemaker, didn't trust the guy not to fuck with him or draw a dick on his head or anything like that, so he stayed awake the entire night to ensure Chris didn't pull anything.

For five, maybe ten minutes, he brushed his fingers through her hair and watched as she drifted further and further off with a content smile etched upon her face. She was snuggled close to him, arms wrapped securely around his waist and face buried within his chest. Just looking down at her made him unbelievably happy.

Then he remembered 'shit, I'm supposed to be spying right now' and got to that. Auggie's gay bee was buzzing out of their hotel room and further into the hotel in no time. At first, there wasn't anything that really stood out. Staff did their jobs. Other vacationers were awake and got to their breakfast buffet as it opened. Sparrow greeted each and every one of them with the smile that Adrian had come to hate. It was so forced. Obviously, there's a certain type of politeness that you need to have if you work in the service industry - and if you have to fake that, fair enough - but there was a smarmy-ness to Sparrow that accelerated any dislike Adrian had for the guy.

Just when Adrian was going to give up - nothing interesting at all had happened in the five minutes since he started and his attention was already falling off - Sam and Steve from next door ushered Sparrow into a quiet corner. "We have some good news," Sam began, her hushed voice barely covering her excitement.

Sparrow narrowed his eyes and glanced around to make eye contact with a nearby server, who nodded and hurried away to one of the staff areas. "Do tell," he urged, his hand making it to the small of Sam's back as he guided them further away from everyone else and out of the dining hall.

"All the massages and medication must've worked." Steve placed his palm on his wife's stomach. "Little O'Donnell has finally made an appearance."

Weird. Adrian had some idea that his pals - well, they were people who forcefully inserted themselves into most conversations the 'Bardot's' had without asking - were trying to have children. In fact, most of the couples, if not all that they'd spoken to, were in the process of attempting to conceive.

Guiding the O'Donnells through parts of the hotel Adrian had never gone down before, Sparrow congratulated the pair and asked so many follow up questions about the tot. Although, he didn't seem all that interested in the answers. He would say the question and then zone out for the entire time it was being answered, his head bobbing as if he was paying attention but his eyes making it very clear that he was disassociating.

The gay bee followed the trio further and further into the hotel - if he'd been watching when Y/N did reconnaissance yesterday, he would've noticed the familiar surroundings - until they entered a doctor's consulting room. Why was this down a random corridor in an alien hotel?

Sam and Steve were escorted inside and introduced to a doctor who called himself "Dr Yatz" who checked Sam's vitals, her blood pressure, took samples, and other various things that Adrian had no idea what the hell was happening. The guy seemed like he was a real doctor, but there was also something that seemed off about him.

Dr Yatz was an intense guy, Adrian decided. He was observant. It was like he was studying everyone around him to see if they knew shit that they didn't. And, he'd caught sight of the bee hovering and didn't even swat at it. He just glared at the little robot. Did he know?

Then, after to coming to the conclusion that, yes, Sam O'Donnell was experiencing symptoms of pregnancy, Dr Yatz pressed a button right next to the examination table to open a dumbwaiter on the other side of the room and Adrian knew that whatever was going to happen next wasn't going to be good.

He shook Y/N as fast as he could and through tired, half lidded eyes, saw as a beautiful blue rodent sized butterfly catapulted itself into Sam's throat and lodged itself inside her body. Sam spasmed for a few seconds, blood dripping from the corner of her lips, as her husband shrieked, then she fell into limp silence.

Y/N was awake in an instant. "What -!?" she exclaimed frantically, looking down at Sam's prone form.

Steve backed up into the nearest cabinet with wide, panicked eyes as Dr Yatz turned around swiftly. "Stay still," he said coldly, his tone low and intimidating as his eyes darted across Sam's features, assessing the situation.

"She's dying!" Steve yelled, panic laced in his words as he reached towards Sam.

"She's being reborn." Yatz's tone was firm, unwavering. His gaze snapped over to the bee and slapped it into the wall harshly. It hit the concrete floor with a dull thud and the video feed went out, static overtaking the display screen.

Back in the comfort of their hotel room, the duo were dumbfounded as they tried to make sense of what just happened. Sam was a butterfly now. Steve's fate was presumably the same. Dr Yatz was in the same building as them.

"I can figure this out," Y/N murmured breathlessly, more to herself than Adrian, as her hand came to rest upon the scar on the small of her back unconsciously. "Need to figure this out."

"Yeah, course you can, babe. You're, like, the smartest person I know."

“Let's get ready for breakfast. Other than fuck chocolate, you haven't eaten since yesterday lunchtime," she told him, whipping the duvet away from them and get up. They had to make an appearance at breakfast. That was obvious. Anyone who acted the slightest bit withdrawn or out of the ordinary was going to be scrutinised. "Gonna need our strength."

"I'm sure the fuck chocolate had some nutritional value."

"Well, I'm hungry so get outta bed cause I want food."

Within a second, he was out of bed and throwing his clothes on to do exactly as she said and make her happy. He made sure that he got her approval on his outfit before they left the room, then they were out the door and ready to exploit the all-you-can-eat breakfast at their disposal. Because, yeah, he was hungry. And if he was hungry, he had no idea how ravenous Y/N was. He had his stomach full of chocolate and his dick surrounded by pussy. He had truly been sated last night. Y/N, however, had been used and underfed and had only about 25 minutes of sleep and had been rudely awakened by the sight of an alien murder. If she thought it was best to get to breakfast, he was going to ensure they got breakfast.

"Fill your plate, baby. I literally going to have a mountain of waffles if Spencer over there hurries the fuck up," he joked as he placed a hand around Y/N's waist and tugged her close to his side while he grabbed two plates off of the buffet table with the other. As soon as he was done piling his plate high with eggs, sausage, pancakes, bacon, hash browns, French toast, sausages, and biscuits, they were sitting at their usual table and eying everyone as they walked in.

As expected, the O'Donnells didn't show. Presumably, they were dead and being used like puppets at this point.

For the rest of the day, Y/N tried to figure out what the hell was happening. Though they wanted nothing more than to lock themselves away in their room and get a conspiracy board going, they still had to pretend to be one of the regular vacationers.

Other than the obvious, the day itself had been rather uneventful.

Breakfast was normal. Lunch was. The daily affirmation session. The massages too. It was a lovely sunny day and guests were encouraged to hang out by the pool to soak in some vitamin D and indulge in some non-alcoholic beverages. The couple had to pretend that everything was swell and normal and they weren't freaking out.

As she was chatting to the other ladies, Y/N casually brought up pregnancy to them. She used the stereotypical 'now the wedding is done, onto kids' excuse and found out that every single woman she spoke to, was trying to have a baby. Every single one. Without fail. No matter if they already had a little one or this was their first go, they all had the goal of pregnancy. That had to be a piece of the puzzle.

With all this new information and the lack of sleep, Y/N was still exhausted. So, when she allowed herself to get out of the pool and join back up with her husband, Y/N was crawling onto the lounger and resting directly on top of Adrian, her back leaning against his front.

"Any news?"

"I think I might have some info. Tell you later."

Economos had packed Adrian a book for some reason. Just a normal Steven King book. He'd never even thought to look at it but he was bored and didn't want to get his hair wet so he sat under an umbrella and read a book. He looked like he'd been ripped directly from a travel agency advert with his khaki shorts, open Hawaiian shirt, ray bans on his forehead and his bikini clad wife sitting in the gap between his legs. He would've got his Nintendo Switch out but he'd forgotten to charge it and he had to entertain himself the old fashioned way.

They'd done a pretty good job at keeping their panic below the surface, although there were times where they both let a bit of fear slip into their voices while talking with each other. They were tense, that was for sure.

Adrian put his arm around Y/N to pull her in even closer, his nose burying into the crook of her neck as he read over her shoulder. He pressed a small kiss into her skin and smiled as he felt her relax a little.

"We're okay," he muttered softly, closing his eyes as he nuzzled his head closer to hers. "I'll kick anyone's ass who even looks at you funny. I'll get some Raid roach spray and just torch these motherfuckers. Burn this whole place down. Just say the word and I'll pop off, okay?"

She turned over to be chest to chest with him and ran the backs of her fingers along his jawline, smiling when he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. "No popping off just yet. For now, we've gotta stick to the charade until we can meet up with the others in town," she sighed softly, pressing her lips to his ear as she said, "And then, we can burn this down together."

The promise of future violence caused Adrian to crack an eye open to shoot Y/N an amused grin. He leaned forward to capture her lips in a kiss that surely got some disapproving looks sent their way, but they ignored them completely in favour of continuing to explore each other's mouths for a little while longer.

Hey, they were horny newlyweds! It was appropriate. Who knows how much longer the mission would go on for? They'd have to indulge in the fantasy while they still could.

Y/N let her kisses trail along his cheek and down his neck as she whispered, "Is it weird that I think I'm going to miss it here? It's such a strange place but, I don't know, it's nice to just be you and me, to be married and have a perfect, like, by the book life. Don't you think?"

He hummed softly in agreement, his hands moving up her back to tangle in her curls at the base of her skull as he scratched idly at her scalp, causing her to moan and slump against his shoulder. "Yeah, I guess this feels right," he replied softly, his head resting on top of hers, "I feel at home whenever I'm with you so I think it's the person rather than the place that makes it feel better. But, yeah, being not married to you is going to kill me when we get back."

"You're a sap."

"You love it," he laughed as he reached around for the towel he knew Y/N had brought. As soon as his hand touched it, Adrian was delicately placing it over Y/N's lower half as if it were a blanket. It wasn't much coverage but it would stop Sparrow's wandering gaze and, hopefully, avoid anyone else checking out his wife's ass.

They chatted amongst themselves for a while longer, the sun beating down heavily upon the pool and bathing everyone within sight in its heavenly warmth. Their conversation was mainly surface level stuff. Some trivial things, random things, just simple things to fill their time without getting too deep into actual topics that would put a neon sign above their heads of 'hey, we're spies! please kill us, you alien bastards!'.

"Babe, it's that guy from...y'know," Adrian said, his eye catching sight of someone standing off to the side and watching all of the couples. "The doctor man."

Everything in her wanted to crane her neck back to get a glimpse of Dr Yatz in the flesh. He hadn't changed much. She'd only gotten a brief look at him on the gay bee feed before it cut out but he seemed exactly as she remembered him. An old, wrinkly man with a thick indiscriminate accent that he tried to hide with varying degrees of success.

No. He'd definitely recognise her face. And the injury she'd got because of him.

"Is my scar visible?" she asked, her voice barely audible since she hid her face in the gap between his neck and the lounger. He tugged the towel to fully conceal her scar from view without question. "He can't see me, can he?"

"Don't think so."

"Has he still got a limp?"

"Doesn't seem like it."

"That bastard."

Her voice sounded venomous. Even Y/N could hear it dripping off her tongue and coating the words that left her mouth. Her heart rate increased as her mind flashed back to the last time she saw him. The blood. The pain. The "leave her behind" that, thankfully, wasn't listened to.

"He's gone, babe," Adrian announced, reaching out and holding onto her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You okay?"

It took her a moment to compose herself enough to answer, "Of course. Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

Concern in every pore in his body, he frowned and tilted his head as he stared at her. His eyes scanned her face. She wasn't okay. That much he could tell. His thumb brushed the bottom edge of her bottom lip gently as he looked into her eyes. "Talk to me," he urged.

"When we get back to our room."

That answer seemed to satisfy him for now. He gave her a soft peck on her forehead and wrapped his arms around her again to snuggle into her as much as possible. They remained there until it became clear that everybody else was beginning to disperse and that was their cue.

Once they were back in their room, Y/N did a sweep with the IP scanner just in case the maid had added a sneaky camera whilst they were gone. What she was going to say was classified information that the butterflies might know - Yatz was working for them or one of them so they probably knew some details about his experiments - but there could've been parts of her side of the story that they had no idea about.

Then, when she confirmed that they were secure, she sat down on the bed and tried to gather her thoughts and gather her wits. Adrian, meanwhile, got to his knees between her legs and rested his forearms on her thighs, leaning forward slightly to stare at her intensely through those beautiful eyes of his, waiting patiently to see what was going to come out of her mouth next.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she cleared her throat. "Dr Yatz," she started slowly, taking a deep breath, "Was my last mission at the DEO so my brain is kinda struggling to deal with the fact that history is repeating itself. I mean, I guess it makes sense..."

A sigh fell past her lips. "Have you ever heard of Jack Ryder?"

"The host of that gameshow 'You Don't Know Jack!'?"

They made a TV show off a Jackbox game. No, it wasn't any good. It was a bunch of people who thought they were a lot funnier than they actually were and was an insufferable watch.

"Yeah, that guy."

"I remember that show. It fucking sucked," Adrian admitted, making her laugh at his bluntness

"Have you heard of The Creeper?"

Gotham has a bunch of freaks running around. Some good, like Batman. Some bad, like the Joker. Others are somewhere in between, like The Creeper. Adrian had heard about this anti-hero - he kept tabs on all the superpeople he possibly could because they're sick as fuck but he might need to know their weaknesses one day to kill them - and, honestly, he hadn't been convinced that The Creeper was real until now.

He'd seen images of the guy. Would you believe that a guy with yellowy green skin, red claws, and malachite spiked hair who went around in dirty tighty whities and a cape is real? In this world of metahumans and Batman villains, he should've assumed that this freak was really a thing that existed out there somewhere.

"Uh-huh."

"Well, they're the same guy. Jack got into a lot of debt and when Yatz offered him some money to be a test subject, he couldn't refuse," Y/N explained and waited for him to acknowledge that he understood before she carried on. "The doctor was working for the Joker at the time, primarily on his perfecting the formula on his Venom -"

"Like his laughing gas?"

"Exactly."

"So, is that like those vials in that examination room?"

Y/N tilted her head as she thought. The weird examination room that they'd seen both times of the bee's camera had a huge cupboard of different coloured liquid that were all named after emotions. After all, Joker's Venom was green and induced severe gleefulness. Maybe Yatz had branched out from laughing gas.

"When did you get so smart?" she cooed in awe as she cupped his cheeks with both of her hands. "Okay, yeah. So, he's created laughing gas and fuck gas now - oh shit - that's the fucking roofies in the affirmation session!"

Things were beginning to unravel in her mind and she needed to take control of them before anything got away from her, and she needed to do it quickly. Because there was one last piece of the puzzle to add to everything she was piecing together.

"They want us to fuck. Why do they want us to fuck?"

"Cause you're hot?" he suggested, knowing full well how stupid that was the second it came out of his mouth. "The camera in the gift basket? I don't know. I'm not good at this shit."

"You're doing so good. Throw some more ideas at me."

"Maybe they want authentic couple porn and get off at being voyeuristic creeps?"

Smiling, she tried to hide her laugh by biting her lip, which only furthered his desire to quit while he was ahead. He'd sniffed out one clue and maybe that was enough for the day. He let out a groan and let his forehead rest against her breast in defeat.

"Your boobs feel bigger," he stated matter of factly and pulled up his head to look at her in the eye. She laughed out loud this time, not even trying to restrain herself, then abruptly stopped.

That was it! Boobs! Other than being jiggly, there was one other common feature of breasts.

"Fucking breastfeeding! They're milking us like cows!”

Next Chapter: Farmville

Taglist: @sarahskywalker-amidala , @she-wolf09231982 , @afraidofshrimp (Wanna be added to the taglist? Just message me or leave a comment :p)

#adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante x reader #adrian chase x female reader #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase x y/n #peacemaker

[rowretro]

✧𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍✧

WARNINGS: nothing I know of

✧taglist✧: @heeseung-min @jaeneohee @lovingvoidgoatee @neruishoon (anyone I may have missed)

✧CHAPTER 9✧

Just over 2 months into her pregnancy, and Sunghoon has been by her side 24/7. He's even started working from home so he can keep a close eye on her. And in this period of time, y/n has not uttered a single word about it to her family. She was 18, her parents would probably think she's an irresponsible screw up. Sunghoon on the other hand, has grown way more possessive over her.

On to p of that he was extremely over protective now she's pregnant, Every time she'd gasp r trip or feel even the tiniest pain from a paper cut, he was there beside her making sure he'd be able to rush her over to the hospital. It was still a half demon baby in there, who knows when it wants to pop out?

"Sunghoon... we have to tell them... and by we I mean you-" the girl said before turning around to run. The two were at the front door of her family's home. "No... we're doing this together." He said, gripping onto her wrist. The door was then answered by her mother who was screaming at Heeseung "WHY ARE YOU SUCH AN IRRESPONSIBLE PIG!" she yelled as Hee groaned. well this was going to go well...

Why today of all days? everyone seemed so stress and mad over their own problems. Her dad constantly firing people on call, Heeseung having a heated argument with his girlfriend and her mother was stressed over her business deals. "Hoon.... maybe today isn't the right day to tell them..." Y/n said, as Sunghoon sighed "Sweetheart, maybe we should give it some time kay, who knows they might feel better by the end of today~" he reassured.

"UGH I FUCKIN HATE YOU LEE HEESEUNG!" a girl screamed as she left the house, slamming the door. Y/n stared up at Sunghoon, nervous "Are you crazy? you want me to go oh hey mom, hey dad, her brother, I know you're all fuming mad right now but I have news and it's that I'm pregnant?!" she whisper yelled at Sunghoon as he went silent.

"You're pregnant?..." Her mother trailed off, her father shrugged Heeseung stared at her in horror. "A MINI SUNGHOON IS GOING TO POP OUT OF YOU?!!!!" He screamed. "No no- honey that... that's great- I mean you're a little too young, but old enough to make decisions, you have a nice baby safe home... I guess it's not that bad... congrats I guess..." Her mum said. Oh how mad she was at Sunghoon, but she was relieved that it was Sunghoon's baby.

"y-you aren't mad?" the girl asked, teary eyed "Of course Im mad, im disappointed... but to be fair we did kind of expect it... how far long are you?" the woman asked "2 months..." she trailed off as the woman smiled "If you ever need help or anything, we'll be here for you... ok?" her mom reassured, hugging Sunghoon. "BRO I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU IMPREGNATED MY BABY SISTER- AREN'T YOU LIKE A HUNDERED YEARS OLD?!" Heeseung asked " I'm way older- but in Human years I'm only 21, chill-" he said as Heeseung inhaled a deep breath.

A few days have passed, and Y/n's mother decided it'd be best if she accompanied y/n and Sunghoon on their first ultra sound. "It seems that there are 2 heads" The doctor said with a smile as y/n stared up at Sunghoon in horror "2 HEADS- OH MY GOD I SWEAR I DIDN'T KNOW I WAS PREGNANT WHEN I HAD THOSE GUMMIES-" She said as Sunghoon frowned. "No honey... what she meant is you're having twins-" her mom pointed out as she started hyperventilating.

"TWINS? AS IN TWO BABIES? AS IN ONE EXTRA BABY?! THAT'S ONE MORE BABY THAN I HAD EXPECTED TO HAVE! I COULDN'T EVEN TAKE CARE OF A TEDDY BEAR PROPERLY OH NO WE'RE DONE FOR!" She panicked as Sunghoon held her hand. "No no sweetheart... It'll be ok... we're having two bundles of joy, one me n one you, and I'll be here to look after you..." Sunghoon reassured. Her mother smiled at Sunghoon, now a little more relieved at the way he treated her.

✧𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍✧

#enhypen imagines #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen ff #engene #sunghoon enhypen #park sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon angst #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon yandere #yandere sunghoon #enhypen yandere #yandere enha #yandere enhypen #yandere #sung hoon #hoon #demon au #demon #enhypen au #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff

[giggly-squiggily]

Amazing, Showstopping, Glamorous Blue Lock Headcanons That Are Definitely True Ego Told Me So #3

I have no excuse for this I just wanna yell about the boys

-Barou watches Bluey. He claims it's because of his two sisters but really he finds it incredibly comforting. His favorite character is Muffin (His favorite quote is "Muffin, NO!") If you call him out on it he'll get all embarrassed and claim it's for babies. This doesn't really change even after Isagi told him he watches it too- but he's not nearly as flustered post that.

- Chigiri sleeps like the dead. He gets up fine in the morning, but any time between then and bedtime he’s unmovable. The world could be ending and every catastrophe ever could be going down and he’ll just roll over and carry on snoring.

- Rin won't ever admit it, but he has such a soft spot for Bachira. The little gremlin wormed his way into his heart without any warning and- if you pay close enough attention, it shows. "This is gross, you take it" He'd say as he trades a meal with Bachira knowing the smaller boy loves it. "I only picked him because he's useful" after reuniting him with Isagi. "You're embarrassing. I guess I can teach you." He'd say while tutoring Bachira in English even AFTER he said he wouldn't.

-Reo's amazing at doing hair. Sometimes he'll force Chigiri to sit down so he could do his braid for him (it always looks amazing) claiming "You take forever. I'm doing it." But really he just wants to talk with the redhead about whatever (50% He's venting about Nagi, 50% it's everything from K-Drama's he's into, Team V shenanigans to various other topics). Chigiri can't fight him on it- and even if he could, he rather enjoys Reo doing his hair for him- plus he's really entertaining the way he tells stories.

- For the longest time, Nagi thought Half-Baked ice cream meant it was baked halfway in the oven before frozen. One time he got a craving and wanted some, but only had vanilla. And a microwave. Chigiri and Barou came back to find a burnt mess of ice cream in the microwave and a shamed Nagi.

-Despite his last name meaning "Happy Bee", Bachira has a strong dislike for the buzzing insects. Some say he was stung a lot as a kid, others say he might be allergic. Really though- Bachira doesn't like them cause one day he had a slushy and they got into his drink. He's never recovered since. He doesn't mind it when Isagi calls him "Bumble Bee" though. (Credit to you friend- you know who you are :D)

-Aryu's terrified of seagulls. Not only are they "So not glam" but they insist on attacking him any time he goes to the beach. (When he poses, his hair somehow catches one). He's also terrified of birds period- if one gets too close you can expect to hear him squawk and run for safety.

-Niko and Isagi have movie nights. They aren't much of a set up- Niko gets his phone back, Isagi somewhat convinces Karasu to share some of his "Snack Stash", and the two get comfy around the small screen watching whatever anime they're addicted to at the moment. They also break into song alot whenever an opening slaps. (May or may not have been told to "SHUT THE F*CK UP" by their teammates a few times).

-Hiori smiled at Rin once. It was so effective on him Rin walked straight into the doorframe of one of the sliding doors. Unfortunately for him Bachira and Isagi witnessed it and will never let him live it down. (They become his little statue muses like in Hercules- "It's okay, your in lo-" "Finish that sentence and I'll strangle you with your own shoelaces.")

-Bachira is very cuddly; he'll walk up to whomever and just wrap his arms around them from behind. He especially does this to Isagi whenever the other boy is trying to explain his spacial awareness or whatever. It's a 50/50 shot on whether he'll simply hug him or he'll start tickling him mid conversation- forcing Isagi to laugh so hard he can't finish the sentence.

-Gagamaru tends to put his whole face into whatever he's looking at. If you show him something on your phone he'll lean in so he's inches from it. Some figured he's nearsighted and needs glasses, but really it's just one of Gagamaru's many quirks.

-Someone once told Tokimitsu he radiated "Kirby energy". He didn't know what that meant but when he told his teammates Rin kinda gave him a once over and said: "Accurate." To this day Tokimitsu still doesn't get what that means.

-Kunigami hates horror movies; Chigiri lives for them. 50% of their movie nights consist of the hero hiding behind him while Chigiri snickers at the antics going onscreen.

#blue lock #headcanons #spontaneous headcanons #I'm in a blue lock mood lols #most of these were written well before posting but now I've finally gotten around to sharing them with y'all #ASGBLHCs

[fucktheark]

(some) creepypasta/marble hornets music hcs :)

these are mostly from my own playlist they aren't accurate at all this is just 4 funsies lololol

also i highly doubt anyone will even see this post but if u do drop a song rec plz im struggling finding new music </3

tim (specifically him cs masky is too busy going apeshit 4 music)

old man music but like cool old man music (this is just what my father listens to LOL)

thinks he's got peak taste and snickers at everybody else's song choices

breathe - pink floyd

pet sematary - ramones

the chain - fleetwood mac

aerials - soad

lover, you should've come over - jeff buckley

hoodie

i pulled this out of my ass tbh but imagine 80s fan brian

kinda likes lil peep but would never tell a soul cs he thinks he's too old for it

doesn't rly share his music with anyone bcs he's afraid they're not gonna clown him for it

she's in parties - bauhaus

the brightside - lil peep

the ghost in you - psychedelic furs

messages - a flock of seagulls

hotel california - the eagles (cz y not)

jane

i never rly obsessed over her so this is js based on the vibes i get from the art i've seen of her (so pretty bruh)

echolalia - faetooth

nine while nine - sisters of mercy

closet - fleshwater

engine no. 9 - deftones

frigid and spellbound - spectral wound

nina

no way totally unexpected music

i think eventually she grew out of screamo and scene but never rly let emo go entirely

acid - ghost town

get away with murder - jeffree star (yikes)

what you need - bmth

freaxx - brokencyde (she's been in love with this album since it came out)

vampires will never hurt you - mcr

jeff

i like think that after what he did to his family he just kinda checked out from earth and stopped keeping up with most pop culture, so he's still listening to the same music he did back then.

peak edgy middle schooler vibes

never tires of his playlist

every now and again he comes across something new and gets obsessed with it immediately and probably forever

yen - slipknot

makedamnsure - taking back sunday

don't go - bmth

tourniquet - marilyn manson

crewcabanger - chelsea grin

toby

I-C-P FOREVER WITH THE JUGGALOSSSSSS

still enjoys twiztid even after the beef but secretly because it makes him feel like a poser

also likes jeff buckley but feels kinda cringe for it

the stalker - icp

house of mirrors - icp

my 1st time - dark lotus

2nd hand smoke - twiztid

grace - jeff buckley

liu

same reasoning as jane i know like nothing about this dude and even less about sully so i'm not even gonna attempt .

i fw his vibe tho

eye - smashing pumpkins

the man who sold the world - nirvana

heaven - talking heads

the sickness - imminence (he's gotta be a lil emo come on)

siamese twins - the cure

eyeless jack

this one is kinda hard tbh but considering his hypersensitivity to sound, i feel like he wouldn't enjoy anything too noisy

likes songs with a lot of bass because he can feel the bass reverberating through his body when he wears headphones

soft/airy vocals!!!! he hates screaming

doesn't rly stick with a specific genre just whatever makes his ears tingle lol

a forest - the cure

dark stone - holy fawn

hide and seek #1 - plastic tree

the thing - pixies

collabo - june freedom

BEN

bitch spends so much time on the internet he discovers new music every day

listens to everything but tries to flex the really obscure shit he finds in the depths of youtube (he wants to be cool but it's kind of pathetic.)

his playlist is MASSIVE and a mess, he usually has to skip through half of it before finding something he actually likes

i don't know why but he'd be into haunted mound

plays the majora's mask soundtrack when he can't think of anything to listen to

husqrider - turnabout

fentanylism - opiated devilsperm

starting over - lsd and the search for god

gou zin zan goku - deviloof

ugliest - $uicideboy$

laughing jack

he's old af and probably doesn't get modern music tbh

classical music it is

and opera

i'm not gonna make a whole playlist but he really loves erlkönig because of the story lol

#creepypasta #marble hornets #creepypasta headcanons #marble hornets headcanons #tim wright headcanons #eyeless jack headcanons #ticci toby headcanons #jeff the killer headcanons #nina the killer headcanons #jane the killer headcanons #ben drowned headcanons #laughing jack headcanons #hoodie headcanons #homicidal liu headcanons #i've fallen back into fandom activities oh no

[morgansunflower]

My Sweet Boy

Bruce Wayne X Kent! Reader

Batmom! Reader

Warnings:suggestive content, explicit language and angst

Words:1610

Superboy was not Superman's clone nor Lex Luthor's but instead of two who had a deep love for each other. Can this truly unexpected person be what brings them together?

Bruce's P. O. V

I remember seeing Grayson's tears when his parents died. I knew then I would take care of him but the boy.. It was unexpected.. Greatly. I stood next to Superman as both Superboy and Robin talked. They had infiltrated Cadmus Labs, finding him.

"so he's ah clone of both you and.. My sister" Clark said nervously

"do you have a problem with that?" I asked with a glare

"no!.. I'm just saying this is a lot.. I know this is a big deal but.. Maybe we should wait to tell her?"

"I am fully aware of the fact it is much to comprehend" I declared.

It felt wrong to not say anything to her. She is millions of miles away from earth. He needs a father, and he needs a mother... he's a part of me and a part of one whom I have loved for years. He had my hair, and Y/N's eyes. He had her Kryptonian genes, such as heat vision, super-hearing, agility and strength. He has my detective skills. He has my stubborn nature and has Y/N's kindness. That night we went to the Bat-cave. Alfred of course was in shock. As if he'd seen the boy before.

"I am Alfred Pennyworth trusted butler to Batman.. And you are chap?"

"he's my new brother! His name is Superboy but we're giving him a civilian name soon!" Dick exclaimed, while Superboy had a blank expression.

"I see, care to explain in detail Master Bruce?"

"he's a clone, mixed with H/N's and Batman's DNA" I said

"well welcome to the family young man. I will show you to your room"

".. Thanks" he replied

"first, we need to go over the rules" I demand

"boooooring" Dick exclaimed

I take my cowl off "my real name is Bruce Wayne. Only a few people know my secret.. Keep it that way. You are only allowed to leave the premises with my permission not Grayson's"

"hey! I'm responsible!" Grayson defended

"get some sleep. We will discuss things further in the morning"

"fine" he scoffed

"ah mirror image of you, Master Bruce I might say"

Conner's P. O. V

"you'll love Y/N she's so much fun. She's sweet and she is so cool!" my new brother told me

I still feel worried she won't accept me.. Batman or Bruce or.. Dad.. He's different from what I was expecting. I honestly don't know what I was expecting. I can't imagine what she'll think of me. Her brother seems troubled by my presence. Will she hate me?

Y/N's P. O. V

I couldn't believe what I saw with my own eyes. A screen was of a boy. A 16 year, old boy. He had my eyes and Bruce's hair with his brooding expression. What am I going to do? I look at Bruce's worried expression.

"he as both of our DNA. Lex Luther had yours and Amanda Waller had mine. They were going to turn him into a weapon.. But Robin found him with his new team" Bruce said

"well he needs a father.." I said still in disbelief

"he needs a mother too Y/N. I don't want to ask too much of--" I cut him off

"no! I want to... ok Soo maybe I'll get him for one week and you can the next week? Why does this sound like a discussion between two divorced people?" I chuckled awkwardly

"I'd say it's between two friends who wants what's best for their... son"

I turn to see him. His eyes were wide open and expression worried. I can hear his, heart racing.

"hi.. I'm Y/N"

"hi" he replied shyly. "Superboy"

"I'm very glad to meet you.. I hate to say it but, well if you're going to school then I think you should choose your civilian name. You can take Bruce's last name..." he remained silent "so do you like the name, Conner?"

He looks at Bruce he nodded to his son ".. sure" Conner said.

"well great. If you want to, you can come by place anytime"

"you're not staying?" Conner asked with a half-confused half-disappointed tone.

"no.. I'm.. Conner Bat's and I.. We're not in a relationship" that hurt coming out more than I thought it would.

"ohh" he said looking off to the side.

I couldn't make myself look at, Bruce. Days later Grayson invited me over to swim with him and Conner. I swam with the kids as we, played together. Grayson held onto my neck. I hear, movement recognizing the steps and the Heartbeat. I look seeing Bruce in his suit and tie back from work.

"hey B!" Grayson said

"hey.. B" Conner said. It was still so new for him.

"hi Bruce want to come join us for a nice swim?"

"I don't swim" he replied sternly.

"oh c'mon B!" Dick encouraged

I look at Conner and put my finger to my lips to tell him to be quiet. I super-speeded up to Bruce's collar and pull him into the pool. They boys began to laugh together. Bruce swims up and splashes me. I began to laugh as he glared at, me. He then smiled and then laughed

"you're going to regret that, Kent" he playfully threatened

"try me" I replied playfully.

The longer I stayed the harder it was to think of leaving. Eventually night came. We went on patrol together. Afterwards I bid my goodbyes to the boy's. I awkwardly wave goodbye to Bruce and leave. I went into my house taking a deep breath. I can barely hold my feelings back anymore. Conner reminds me of him each time he comes to see me. I can't get away from him. I rest outside on my roof looking up at, the stars. I faintly hear, my name spoken. Bruce?

"I must sound mad for thinking you'll hear me or let alone listen. You healed my trauma even when I pushed you away... You were there for me throughout my life. You are my best friend and.. I am in love with you Y/N"

I flew to Gotham, straight to Wayne Manor. I flew above Bruce. He takes a deep breath and looks up to me.

"I love you too" I said landing onto the ground by him

Dick's P. O. V

Early in the morning, I open Bruce's bedroom door "hey B--" I then see Y/N's head peep up from the covers "Ahhhhhh!!! My EYES!!"

Conner and Alfred run through the hallway with Y/N's parents.

"good gracious child what ever is the matter" Alfred asked me

"don't go in there!" I exclaim.

They each look into Bruce's room. Y/N's cheeks bright red as Bruce tried to keep himself from panicking.

"what the hell?!" her dad exclaimed. "I'm going to shoot you Bruce!"

"Y/N Martha Kent!" her mom scolded. "what are you doing in bed with a boy?!"

"I'M BLIND!!!" I exclaimed

"Ma.. Pa.. Alfred.. boys lovely to see you all" Y/N awkwardly said.

Uncle Clark laughed for an hour straight when we told him.

Conner's P. O. V

Six months later. Robin and I went on patrol together. I had spent hours training with both of my parents this month. Bruce finally trusted me to go out on my own with Robin. I hear movement from several buildings away. I hear the rifle cock. I grab Robin and pull him away from the line of range. I feel the bullet go through my hip

"AHHHH!!!" I yelled out KRYPTONITE!! He was aiming for me. My eyes became red from the severe pain.

"Superboy!!" he shouted scared.

No! No! I don't want to die. I doubled over in pain. Robin kneeled by me.

"Conner!!" Dick exclaimed he touches his intercom "Robin to 833 we we need medevac stat! You're going to be OK big guy!"

I hear mom screaming in pain from the kryptonite that was inside me "save him! You save my boy!" she shouted to the medics who appeared.

......

Y/N's P. O. V

Bruce stepped out the Med-bay room. He looks at me and kisses my cheek

"the Kryptonite is out of sys--" Bruce stammered as Conner began yelling.

We both run into the room Conner's eyes were bright red. I quickly put my hand over his eyes so that it go into me and not the room or anyone else. I held him as he shakes.

"no! No! No! I don't want to go back in!" he shouted

"shhh it's OK Conner, you're safe" I whispered.

His eyes came back to his normal color but his breathing was anywhere but calmed down. He held onto me tightly. Bruce rubs his head.

"it's alright champ. You're going to be OK. You're safe. Where are you? What do you feel?"

"I'm in the Med-bay.." he takes a deep breath "I am hugging mo--Y/N"

"that's right son" I softly said kissing his face.

I gently lay him back down on his bed "you rest" I lift the thick blanket higher across his shoulders and kiss his head

"thanks Mmm---"

"it's OK" I encourage rubbing his head.

"Mom, Dad"

"my sweet boy" I softly smile rubbing his face.

I hear his breath calm down and hear his heart calming to a softer beat as he fell asleep.

Conner's P. O. V

I hear Mom's heart racing with the same pace as Dad. Her feet floated off of the ground with her, palm on her hand and other holding his own. Dad was, knelt down on one knee, with a ring in his other hand.

Requested taglist @too-strong-to-lose

#batfamily #Batmom #batmom x batman #Conner Kent #Conner Kent is Conner Wayne #Batfam #Dick Grayson #Dick Grayson is Robin #Batman #Bruce Wayne X Reader #Angst #Fluff #Suggestive content #Alfred Pennyworth #Jonathan Kent #Martha Kent #Humor #Falling in love #Love #Love confessions #Guns #Gun injury #Kryptonian! Reader #Superman is Reader's blood brother #Batfamily fluff #Swimming #Young Justice

[ellieloverr]

My Strange Addiction p. 3

Warning ⚠ Language, SH, bruises, fighting, homophobia ⚠

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ »

Els 🤍

Have a safe flight princess

Yea.

Read 4:36AM

You were almost about to have a break down in the airport but you didn't. Your flight departs in two hours. So you went to go get something to drink since you weren't really hungry. You had accidentally gotten Ellie's favorite drink which was a matcha latte. You realize that you actually missed her. You had called your youngerbrother Mason (the kid from p.1)

"Mason! "

"Sup sis you at the airport?"

"Yea I'm getting something to drink my flight leaves in a half hour"

"Good Casey isn't here right now she left to the store."

"Oh ok, you gonna pick me up from the airport or is Casey going to?"

"Casey is"

"Ok well I got to go Mason bye love you."

"Love you to sis bye."

Call ended 5:35AM

You finished your drink and you are ready to go on the plane to California. You really hated going home because of your father. He'd hit you when you would talk about your sexuality(Bisexual), since that meant that you found girls attractive also. Your mom was the opposite she loved you even if you were gay. So when you were 12 you'd always find a reason to get out of your house for hours so you can have time to yourself.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

Once you got off the plane you had spotted your sister's car. (She had a black Jeep) you had gotten in and you guys started talking.

"So how have you been?"

"Wow man I mean I've been all over the fucking place really"

"Are you still.."

"What?"

"Cutting yourself.."

"Oh.. No I'm actually not I mean I think about it but I'm not doing it."

You guys started talking more then the conversation started gravitating to crushes.

"What about you? You like someone"

"Uhm... Yeah a little bit."

"Ahhh... So you gonna tell me or what? " she said why giggling.

"It's this girl.."

"Ok ok what's her name?"

"E-Ellie Williams."

"No fucking way!"

"What?"

"I know her"

"Stop fucking with me Case."

"I'm not we used to be friends in high school but we still talk occasionally"

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

As you guys arrived at your parents house you grabbed your stuff out the back and headed inside. You went upstairs to your old room and set your stuff down in there. You went down stares and had seen your older brother Mason. You ran towards him and gave him the biggest hug because he was the sibling that never doubted you.

On Friday was when you guys went to court and they decided which parent had full custody over your siblings since Casey was 17 and Mason was 15. You had hoped that your mom had full custody over them because of how your dad was.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

It was 8:30 in the morning and you had texted Dina to ask her for an important favor.

Dina😍

Hey D.

Wsp

Ok so you remember when you said you'd do anything for me?

Omg girl js say it 😭

Ok I have a crush on Ellie and I keep thinking about her its like an addiction can you like tell her when I get back that I need to talk to her?

YESSSS!

I told you soooo

Shut up D.

She said yea!!!!

Ok thank you so much Dina I love you so much ❤❤❤❤

Read 8:35AM

You kept thinking about Ellie's eyes. The way they shined in the light, the way they looked while looking at you. It was like Ellie's eyes were your strange addiction.

You had gotten dressed and on your back were bruises from your dad that you took pictures of to get proof so your mom can have full custody.

"Mom!"

"Hi honey! Are you ready?"

"Yeah"

"Ok go check on Mason and Casey we are gonna leave right now."

"Yeah."

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

The court season had gone great your mom had full custody of them. Your phone buzzes, its Jesse. He says that Ellie got into a fight and that she's messed up pretty bad. Your heart dropped. You said that you'll be back today. You were gonna talk to Ellie about your feelings but you didn't want to untill she was feeling better. You were on your way to the airport but you asked Casey to stop at 7-11 . You went inside to buy Ellie some snacks. You bought her Hot Cheetos, a monster, sour patch Kids and skittles. Once Casey and Mason had arrived to the airport you said goodbye to Mason and hugged him and said goodbye to Casey.

You were worried about Ellie so much. You decided to take an Uber back to your dorm. You dropped your stuff off in your dorm, Dina wasn't there which means they were all in Jesse's dorm. You rush in your sweat pants and T-shirt to Jesse's dorm. You forgot a sweater to cover your cuts because you were in a hurry. You open Jesse's door and hurry over to Ellie cupping her face in your hands which make Ellie blush. Dina and Jesse both look at each other because of how worried you were about her. Jesse notices your cuts after he stops looking at Dina and worries that they will see too. Ellie did Dina was too far to see.

"Ellie are you ok?!"

"Yea im ok(name)"

"What the fuck did you do now."

"Wha- I didn't- I didn't do anything"

"Ellie stop fucking with me I was worried what the fuck happened?"

".... I got into a fight with some football guy"

"Holy shit ellie"

"Hey (name) can I talk to you?"

You nod at jesse. You realize that you forgot a jacket.

"You forgot a jacket you good with telling them? "

"Yea I'm ready Im just not gonna tell them about the body images yet."

"Alright tell me when it gets too much ok"

"Yes my beloved" you said sarcastically

You go back to Ellie and her eyes look at your left wrist. You get nervous but you were ok with them knowing about it.

"What's that..."

You sigh and you sit down on the couch and Dina sits next to you.

"I- i- I cut m-"

Your words get cut off by Dina as she hugs you for comfort. Ellie's eyes look at you in worry. You notice that she's looking at you in your eyes and you just known that she's worried for you.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

Authors notes: wow this series is gonna be long so stay tuned I guess 🤷🏽‍♀️

I wanted to make the series realistic but not too realistic if ykwim but yea I'm sorry that we didn't get to the confession but we will soon! Ok I love you guys so much go to my page if you want part one!!! ❤

#ellie x reader #tlou rp #ellie tlou #ellie williams #tlou part 2 #Spotify

[youarestellarverse]

[image description: a purple banner that has the words “work in progress” on it. end of description]

Untitled Stellarverse Fic - Jason & Appendicitis

Content warning for medical emergencies/infection/hospitals/implied child abuse. Set a day after Sweeney Todd, referenced in my latest epistolary fic (here).

"You're going to be okay," Percy soothes, squeezing Jason's clammy hand. The EMT gives him a look that makes ice crawl up his spine. 

"You're in good hands," she tells Jason, pointedly. "We'll do everything we can for you." 

Jason's so out of it he probably can't tell the distinction, but Percy can. They don't know if he'll be okay, and they need to manage their expectations.

Forcing the terror into the background, Percy reaches over with his free hand and brushes a strand of sweaty black hair off Jason's forehead, which is still scorching hot. The sirens wail as the ambulance speeds through the city, every bump they hit making Jason grimace and whine in pain. 

He's not crying, somehow. Percy's pretty sure he'd be halfway between sobbing and screaming, if it were him strapped to a gurney with infection raging through his abdominal cavity. 

He pictures Jason's asshole dad, then imagines beating him with an adult tuna and knocking him clear off his feet. There's no fucking way he didn't have something to do with it— he's actually home for the first time in weeks, and the jerk never even bothered to come to the show. 

"I'm here, dude," Percy says instead of voicing his revenge fantasies, brushing another lock of hair away from Jason's pallid face. "I'm with you. It's okay." 

He doesn't believe himself for a second, but it seems like Jason does. He smiles weakly, anyway, and squeezes Percy's hand with terrifyingly little pressure. 

It's terrible timing on about a thousand fronts, but the most immediate right now is how much worse Jason looks with his hair still dark. It made him look pale and tired when he was still functional; now even the flush of fever looks more like livor mortis, contrasting so sharply with the black dye Thalia put in. 

Fuck. Thalia. The poor woman's going to lose her shit, and honestly, Percy can't blame her. 

"Do you want me to call your sister when we get there?" 

They hit another pothole. Jason yelps, fingers clenching around Percy's. Percy bites the inside of his cheek, hard enough to taste blood, and doesn't flinch. 

Jason nods. Percy thinks of his mother, gathers up all the good feelings that come from it, and pours them into his smile.  

"I'll wait for her," he assures. The ambulance turns, slows; thank god, because if they hit another bump and Jason makes another helpless noise like that, Percy will start crying for him.  

Getting out of the ambulance is a blur. The EMT has to pry their hands apart, but gives him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as they rush Jason through the doors. 

"—sixteen year old male presenting with severe abdominal pain and high fever, suspected peritonitis—" 

Percy wanders in a fugue state. He makes it to the waiting room, somehow, but can't remember the trip. He sinks on shaky legs into a chair and pulls Bessie out of his pocket. 

"Dammit," he mutters, throat catching. It's not actually because of the lack of bars, and he suspects the elderly woman next to him understands as she smiles tiredly at him. 

"Better outside," she tells him in a soft, high, musically-accented voice. He smiles back at her, the look in her dark eyes reminding him of his mom. 

"Thank you," he tells her thickly. "And whoever you're waiting for, I hope they'll be okay." 

Her expression turns grim. There's a strand of silver hair loose from her braid. 

"Thank you," she replies, quiet and haunted. "Very kind. Go on." 

She shoos him towards the doors. He resolves to buy her dinner, even if he has to walk half a mile for decent takeout. 

First things first, though: he pages through his contacts until he gets to P, for pinecone face. He's so frazzled he doesn't even remember the stupid joke that started that nickname.

But Thalia's going to panic enough for the both of them. Percy takes a deep breath, orients himself— there's a bodega down the street, unless it's closed since he was eleven and came in to set his forearm after Gabe broke it in two places— and presses the call button. 

It rings once. Thalia's voice is tense when she picks up.

"Something's wrong with Jason."

"Guess I'm not the only one who noticed him turning into a walking corpse," Percy mutters, a weak attempt at a joke. "We're at NYP. You should get here as fast as you can." 

"Fuck," Thalia chokes out. Percy can hear her tearing through her apartment, the jangling of keys, a banging of doors. "I fucking knew it. He looked awful yesterday. What happened?" 

"They think his appendix burst. I noticed he was sweating right before the game started, so I felt his forehead and he was burning up. I said, 'dude, you don't look so good', and he said 'I don't feel so good', which is when I started to worry." 

Thalia swears again. Another door slams.

"Because if he's admitting to pain at all, he's in agony." 

"Exactly," Percy mutters, rubbing at his face. "He got put in, ran about a yard and a half, collapsed and started puking, so I called 911 and here we are. He's in surgery and I'm hunting down caffeine." 

"I'm leaving my apartment now. Twenty minutes. Half an hour, tops." 

She hangs up without anything further. Percy closes his phone and takes a second to lean against a brick wall and try to slow down his breathing. 

When he's wrestled back his control, he sets off again for the bodega. He doesn't even notice himself dialing a series of numbers he memorized years ago. 

"Hi, sweetheart." 

"Hey, Mom. I—" 

His voice comes out startlingly raw. He chokes when he pictures the elderly woman in the lobby and her tired, sad face.

"Percy, what's wrong?" 

Gentle, concerned, but somehow still reassuring. Percy swallows, ignoring the curious look from the bored cashier. 

"Jason's in surgery," he manages. "I kept it together in the ambulance and while I was calling his sister, but—" 

"—you need a break from being the strong one," his mom finishes for him. 

His eyes sting. He shuts them, hard. 

"I'm going to wait for him. Are you— I know it's a lot when you have an appointment too, but are you up to keeping me company later?" 

"Honey, I'm pregnant, not immobile." The smile in her voice is audible, and Percy clings to it like a lifeboat. "What hospital are you at? We can head straight there after my ultrasound." 

"New York Presbyterian," Percy sighs, finally feeling himself relax a little. "Does that mean you'll have pictures of my sibling?" 

"By now, you might even be able to tell if you have the same nose." 

"Don't I have Dad's nose?" 

"Paul's is pretty similar. Green eyes, too. I guess I have a type." 

Percy, for the first time in what feels like years, bursts into laughter. 

"Mom, ew." 

Current wordcount: ~1300?

But hey, it's something that isn't Ruby, so I'll take it.

Ping list: @perseusjackson-jasongrace, @elaborateruses 💜 (am I forgetting someone? I feel like I am...)

#wip wednesday #stellarverse #i wrote this #jercy #or pre jercy if you will

[slut4bluemen]

Different feelings

Ao'nung X female Oc (my own 🤭)

⚠Warnings ⚠: None

Everyone knew Ao'nung as a big mouthed bully, always speaking his opinion whenever he pleased, this worsens with the Sully family.

Except for the oldest daughter, Tsu'tan, she was something else.

The day her and her freak show of a family showed up Ao'nung had immediately taken a liking to her, she had sleek pulukan like eyes and large soft lips, her hair was perfectly braided and ties back to reveal a small cut just below her cheekbone.

Her body was lean and curvy, perhaps it was the tiny human DNA she possed form her father but who knows, she was the ideal image of a beautiful Na'vi woman.

Her voice... Oh eywa it drove Ao'nung mad, he hated it yet every time she stopped speaking he yearned for her to say his name again, she had yelled at him once, over a fight with her brothers that he had engaged in, it shook him to the core.

As he lifted his fist to strike lo'ak a loud voice yelled from over them, "GET OFF THEM" Tsu'tan had barked ripping Ao'nung off her brother, he fell on his rear, his eyes wide in surprise as she continued to throw the two other Metkayina boys off Neteyam, punching the firzzy haired Eu'tok in the head before kneeing Mo'tak in the chin.

He winced as they fell back.

"Listen here Ao'nung, if you touch my brother or speak badly of him again I will skin you " he'd flinch as she poked a finger at him.

As they left the four Metkayina boys stood up, dusting themselves off.

"She's something" Eu'tok muttered holding his head, they watched as Tsu'tan led her brothers and sister back to the hut, Ao'nung couldn't keep his eyes off her, still gazing in her direction as she disappeared into the village.

"I'll tell you what she is" ao'nung muttered standing up, he dusted his butt and thighs of sand before walking back to the village.

"She's amazing... " he sighed.

Ever since then his feelings had blossomed, soon realising that he liked her, in ways he'd never thought he'd feel.

Weeks later after the teenage boys had made up they sat around a fire, whilst their parents carried on.

The glow of the fire reflected in Tsu'tans eyes as she told tall tales to Tuk, using her arms and hand to exasperate her story.

The small girl giggled and the story came to a dramatic finish, Neytiri had returned from a trip and beconed the small girl to go to bed, Tuk yawned, nodding before saying goodnight to the older Na'vi kids.

Ao'nung watched silently as he mindlessly twirled a fish on a skewer over the open flame, Tsu'tan had moved closer, taking up tuks spot.

He felt his cheeks burn as your knee touched his, he gulped.

"Do you.. Um- want some fish? " she awkwardly asked, Tsu'tan nodded, they sat in silence again.

Neteyam, Kiri, Lo'ak, Tsireya and Roxto chatted amongst each other, not paying attention to the awkward conversation between the two older Na'vi.

"Here" Ao'nung muttered passing half of the fish onto a separate leaf and giving it to Tsu'tan.

It was another half an hour before Tonowari had returned from his duties to check on his and Jake Sully's children, "Everything alright? " he asked, the five answered, he looked around.

Ao'nung and Tsu'tan had decided to seperate themselves, now perched on a rock near the shallows, deep in conversation.

Ao'nungs tail thuwaped around as he smiled, never taking his eyes off the forest girl, Tonowari smiled, it was clear as day that his son had fallen in love with Tsu'tan, he would discuss this later with Jake Sully, their two oldest childrens pairing was sure to please the people.

Tsu'tans tail swayed as she leaned forward, bringing her knees to her chest as she recounted the night before they decided to leave the Ometikata.

"... And after that I turned around, Spider had already been taken" she recalled.

"So let me get this straight.. This 'Spider', is a Sky person?... And you call him you're brother??" Ao'nung said.

She nodded, "yeah, he's our family, I don't really know the details but, his parents died in the Great War"

Ao'nung furrowed his brows as they fell into a comfortable silence, just staring out at the reef as the fish danced under the large moonlight.

"Awa'atlu is very beautiful " Tsu'tan commented.

Ao'nung smiled a small chuckle leaving his lips, "maybe one day I will be able to see the Ometikaya village" he whispered.

"Then I will see if the village's beauty matches the women that come from it"he said, his breath growing uneven.

His cheeks burned brighter than ever before as he kept his gaze on the Ometikaya girl.

She glanced back at him, with half lidded eyes, her lips parted ever so slightly, he studied her perfect heart shaped face, her sleek cheekbones, those large doe eyes.

Those lips...

He licked his own as he felt his gaze land on hers.

He finally moved forward, pressing his lips on hers.

They stayed like that, only for a second before he pulled away.

"I'm sorry I didn't... " he began before tsu'tan grabbed him by the cheek, closing the space between them once again, he leaned forward, using his hand to push her closer, their bodies melting into one another.

As he blinked his eyes open and pulled away he froze.

His friends stood behind a rock, smirks and cheeky smiles plastered on their faces, lo'ak choked back a laugh, "Did we interrupt something" Neteyam teased, Tsu'tan turned before giving them the finger.

"Get outta here you Sxoungs" she giggled.

The boys whooped as Tsu'tan grabbed Ao'nung once more.

Ao'nung felt his body melt as she held his cheek, deepening the kiss once more.

Tonowari sat by the far, although he couldn't see what the children where whooping and cheering about he had a feeling that his son had finally made his move.

He smiled.

[imperial-topaz2003]

World Building Wednesday: Tyrrnith Zarmahan

B A S I C S

• Full name: Tyrrnith Latsor Zarmahan 

• Gender: Male

• Sexuality: Bisexual, Polyamorous 

• Pronouns: He / Him

O T H E R S 

• Family: Two deceased parents, one deceased sister and nieces, one half brother (Aellisu) and one half sister.

• Birthplace: New Adasta, Ziost

• Job: Sith Warrior, Emperor’s Empire’s Wrath, Commander of the Eternal Alliance

• Phobias: None (unless there’s one for the Emperor. Valkorphobia?)

• Guilty pleasures: Has a soft spot for cooking

M O R A L S 

• Morality alignment?: Previously Lawful Evil, now Lawful Neutral

• Sins: lust/greed/gluttony/sloth/pride/envy/wrath

• Virtues: chastity/charity/diligence/humility/kindness/patience/justice

T H I S - O R - T H A T 

• Introverted/extrovert. While Tyr isn't completely antisocial, you're not gonna get much of a conversation out of him as a stranger. He'll do his best to act calm and polite, but most of his responses are limited to simple answers ('yes', 'no', 'not sure', 'interesting', ect). Even amongst his friends, he's not the most open. 

• Organized/disorganized. Tyr does his best to keep himself focused and make sure nothing is misplaced.

• Close-minded/open-minded. Tyr doesn't go too far down either side of the spectrum. He's pretty set in his ways, especially when it comes to his views on the Sith and the Empire, but he's still willing to hear other people's perspectives.

• Calm/anxious. (formerly anxious). It took him a while, but Tyr eventually realized that he's more efficient when he relaxes his emotions rather than flail out wildly.

• Disagreeable/agreeable. If it has to do with the Sith or the Empire, that's another story, but in general, Tyr can be pretty pragmatic and doesn't hold too many strong opinions.

• Cautious/reckless. (formerly reckless) Same as Calm/anxious, Tyr is definitely more on the cautious side. He bides his time and observes every aspect of a situation before deciding to act

• Patient/impatient. (formerly impatient) Tyr knows that rushing headfirst into every situation never helps, even with Sith Philosophy. Sometimes, change needs to be slow and gradual.

• Outspoken/reserved. Tyr never feels the need to boast, rant, shout, or even raise his voice, unless he's REALLY pissed. Generally, he'll remain stoic and soft spoken.

• Leader/follower. Though it's not his core strength, Tyr is more than willing to take up a leadership position, whether that be an army on the battlefield or a political movement within the Empire.

• Empathetic/unempathetic. Tyr is not the best at comforting others, and he'd be lying if he admitted to caring about everyone's problems, but he'll do his best to remain understanding. Hell, once in a blue moon, he might even give you a hug and tell you everything's gonna be okay.

• Optimistic/pessimistic. Tyr knows the state of the galaxy isn't the best at the moment, but he'd rather make things better than complain about them.

• Traditional/modern. Tyr believes that everyone in the galaxy must adapt or die, simple as that.

• Hard-working/lazy. Tyr is a very work-oriented man. It always comes first and foremost in his book, aside from his relationship. If you're name isn't Krovos or Malavai, you're not gonna get far convincing him to take a break.

R E L A T I O N S H I P S 

• otp: Tyrrnith / Quinn. Tyr and Malavai both had feelings for eachother, but never really expressed it. It took them a while to get there, (espeically with Quinn's betrayal), but after some recovery and talking things out, they finally got together following Makeb

• ot3: Tyrrnith / Quinn/ Krovos. Shortly after, Tyr reunited with his old childhood friend, Lord Krovos, who he dated back before entering the Sith Academy. It was just simple childish love, but after realizing she still loves him, and getting to know Quinn, she joined in.

• brotp: Vette, Jaesa, and Lana. Tyr has grown to see both Vette and Jaesa as little sister figures (he does have a biological little sister, but they've been distant), and Lana has always been his second most trusted advisor, aside from Quinn.

• notp: Tyrrnith and Valkorian. Aellisu joking that Valkorian might be crushing on Tyr was enough to trigger the latter's gag reflex.

#oc: tyrrnith zarmahan #oc: tyrrnith #swtor #screenshot #sith warrior #swtor oc #oc biography #world building wednesday

[astradreaming]

pretty (insufferable) boy

luke castellan x zeus!reader

''Why're you staring at me?"

masterlist

Luke Castellan was single handedly the most insufferable person you'd ever had the displeasure of meeting.

You probably wouldn't think so strongly of him if you'd only see him sparingly around camp.

But seeing as the guy was your best friend you know practically everything about him.

Like how he sneaks out in the middle of the night to get things for the younger kids even if its just a dinosaur pin one of the unclaimed boy had been wanting for weeks.

Or how you know he prefers banana milkshakes over strawberry ones even if he's only had the strawberry ones at lunch.

You'd go so far as to say you might even like Luke... if you didnt know him so well. On the surface he'd be alright to be around but long exposure to him is torture.

Why'd you have to notice when he laughs your heart flutters or when its early and his morning voice sends you blushing like a damn fool.

You blamed it on your perceptive trait which in turn you blamed your father for.

You assumed being the King of Olympus forced him to be perceptive, although deep down you know you're blaming him for everything that happened with your half-sister...

You remembered the way she yelled at you to gain some courage to tell Luke that you liked him...

As if, You hated Luke Castellan and his stupid face.

You swear the Fates specifically hate you...

"What's got your brain working so hard?" Luke's voice rang out bouncing around the forest pulling you away from your thoughts.

You twist around looking up at him from your spot on the soft grass.

"Wouldn't you like to know Castellan" You scoff shaking your head as you lean back elbows digging into the ground.

Shuffling forward he sits cross legged next to you, a stupid smirk on his face as he nudged you leg with his knee.

"I would. Would like to know because if you don't tell me I'll have to assume you were thinking about me" His annoying smirking face was about to be slapped. You face him, eyes narrowed.

"You?" You wanted to laugh, make fun of him for his ego. But he was right. You were thinking of him. You'd rather die than admit that.

He shrugged at your question. His eyes studied you, as if he was looking for something but you were distracted by thoughts again.

His eyes were pretty.

In the sun and moonlight, his eyes were always pretty. You hated that you could look at them forever.

"Why're you staring at me? If the Stolls drew on me again I swear to the gods..." He drifted off muttering under his breath, his hand wiping along his face trying to wipe something that wasn't there.

He looked up at you, eyes pleading like a puppy. Insufferable.

"Is it gone y/n?"

"Sure" You huffed.

He looked relieved he'd wiped the imaginary doodle. His smug smile now swapped with a sheepish expression. He was even more unbearable when embarrassed.

You hated that you felt bad you'd lied to him but what were you supposed to say? Sorry your eyes distracted me from admitting I was thinking of you...

Oh gods, you were screwed.

"I was thinking about capture the flag, I'm going to team with cabin 7 this time" You blurted out, fiddling with the grass trying to look nonchalant.

"You're really not going to tell me?"

He's the literal worst person you've ever met and he can read you so well.

"Nope" Popping the 'p' at the end. He snickered at you.

He laid down back flat against the ground. His hand gently guiding your arm to pull you down with him.

He faced the blue sky squinting at the sunlight. Your eyes furrowed, taking him in. He was so aggravating but oh so pretty. His eyes flickered to yours.

Lying under the blue sky and fluffy clouds, looking at one another you knew two things.

The first being, you hated Luke Castellan.

His fluffy hair you wish you could play with. His gorgeous face you wanted to smother with kissed. His strong tanned arms you needed a hug from. His calming and safe aura which makes you feel like you've finally found home.

Second thing, how close hate and love was.

You hated you couldnt kiss him. You hated you couldnt wake up next to him. You hated you could hold him like the precious being he is.

You hated that you loved him and you hated how you wanted to tell him.

He brought a hand to your cheek, cuping your face you felt as if you'd been ironically struck by lightning.

"Luke-" Your began voice so quiet it sounded like a squeak but he cut you off.

"I'm completely in love with you and it terrifies me" He spoke softly.

Your eyes widen, mouth agape like a land bound fish.

Suddenly he pulled away harshly, slightly wincing and holding his hand as if-

"Oh my gods, I'm so sorry" You begin to reach out to grab his hand but you stopped yourself when he laughed so hard his head dippped back.

"Don't be, at least I know there's a spark between us." He managed to say after his laughing fit.

You groan in embarrassment, leaning forward to place your head on your knees. His hand reached out rubbing comforting circles on your back.

Suddenly aware of his closeness. You can't help but leaning closer to him.

"I guess I like you too, I mean one would say I'm thunderstruck by you or something" You murmured.

He crashed his lips against yours. You bring you hand up to tangle your fingers into his hair, his hand slips down to hold your hip.

You'd like to admit in that moment you were consumed by him but you were solely focused on not sparking him again. He made you feel like a faulty light bulb trying not to explode.

Pulling away he rested his forehead against yours, catching your breathe.

"By the way I lied earlier. You didn't have anything on your face." You admit.

He smiled at you as if you'd just hung the stars, you were addicted.

"I know"

He leans forward and pecks your lips before pulling away with a boyish smile making his scar crinkle.

"No you didn't" You laugh at him.

"No I didn't"

He willingly admits defeats and you willingly open your heart.

#luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #pjo #pjo fanfic #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom