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sytoran · 10 months

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𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 | 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐧𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐭.𝟑

you and natasha were star-crossed lovers, separated by galaxies and timelines. like any other shakesperean tragedy, you and natasha's tale comes to an end... or does it?

pairing: goddess!natasha x dom!fem!reader (G!P)

note: this is the 3rd installment to the goddess!nat universe! please read the other parts first if you haven't already. this part contains major angst and smut. i have spent ungodly hours on this chapter.

word count: 4.5k (i am impressed with myself)

series m.list | main m.list | join the taglist | AO3

Previously…

No one escapes the consequences of their actions. Not even the Goddess of Lust, who had formed romantic relationships with a mortal. SHIELD’s decision to forbid the two of you from ever seeing each other again tears apart all the ‘what-ifs’ of a bright future.

Now…

Natasha doesn’t know how many hours she’s been crying in the bathtub.

After the finality of SHIELD’s crushing decision had truly weighed itself upon Natasha’s burdened shoulders, the mere thought of what she would have to do to you shook her to the bone.

Which is why she crashed at her sister’s place: to cry her problems away in a bathtub made of priceless gold, alongside a fine bottle of Pinot Grigio.

“Jesus, Nat, you’re gonna die of hypothermia if you stay in there a second longer.” Yelena says, kicking open the bathroom door with a tray of smoked salmon appetizers in hand.

“Take one,” Yelena says absentmindedly, sitting herself on the edge of the bathtub next to Natasha’s partially-submerged form. “Food helps with everything.”

Natasha doesn’t respond, only looking up at her sister through glassy eyes. Empty eyes. She felt raw and numb at the same time, but the contrasting emotions were merely child’s play in comparison to the storm that raged within her weary mind.

Yelena looks at her unamusedly, before folding her arms. “Talk to me,” she stated firmly, and it wasn’t a request. The blonde sister was the Goddess of War, after all, she could be as intimidating and ruthless as she wanted to be.

Hot-headed at times, sure, but so paradoxically calculative and strategic at other times Natasha felt like she could get whiplash. Despite all of the finicky situations the older sister had found herself drowning in, Yelena was always there for her, fiercely protective with a passion like no other.

This was no different, with Yelena being the hand to pull her out of the water. Physically and metaphorically.

Natasha inhaled shakily, then exhaled and felt a whole lot worse than before. Impulsively, she snatched one of the smoked salmon appetizers off the plate and stuffed it in her mouth, feeling her eyes well up as she does so.

“Damn, this human fucked you up this bad?” The blonde said quizically, with an air of sarcastic wit on the surface but a layer of genuine concern underneath only Natasha would be able to decipher.

"... I've fallen in love with her." The Goddess says softly, faraway, like she was floating with the wind and time itself. Detached from reality, or perhaps running away from it.

Yelena stayed silent. For once, the Goddess of War was at a loss.

“I’ve fallen in love with her,” Natasha says again, with slightly more conviction. She looks to her blonde sister, and Yelena’s heart nearly shatters at the sight of the sheer hurt on Natasha’s face. So broken, so agonized, everything that she did not deserve to be.

“But that doesn’t even matter, alright? She gave me her heart, Lena, and I’m going to have to break it. I’m gonna break so many– Fuck, I’m gonna have to break every single promise I’ve ever made to her, like she’s some kind of toy.” Natasha chokes out. “And I don’t, I fucking don’t– understand why it was us, why I lead her on and why I let it happen. I’m fucking stupid, and now it’s blown up in my face. Maybe I deserve it. Maybe I-”

“You’ve never deserved it,” Yelena interrupts, placing a hand over her sisters’. Is that how you’re supposed to comfort someone? Yelena doesn’t know. Anyways, she’s trying. “Nat, I know you’re the Goddess of Lust, and your reputation precedes you, but, you, of all people, deserve love.”

You deserve love… what a fucking lie that was.

“Don’t try that on me,” Natasha snaps, her walls snapping back up in record timing. Her self-destructive defence builds like armour, and soon she’s standing up.

“I’ve done some fucked up shit in the past, and I’m very aware of it. I thought I’d moved past it, but now those demons have caught up to me, and I can’t do jackshit but watch the love of my life slip away from my fingers. I don’t deserve love, it just happened to find me and I played along because I thought it could last.”

Natasha’s chest heaves at the impact of the outburst. She stares at Yelena, who remains painfully impassive. Arms folded, jaw working on the stupid fucking smoked salmon.

Fuck, she wanted to hurt someone. Make them feel her pain. Let it consume them like it’s consuming her, let it choke them and–

“Is that what you really think, Nat? That you were simply playing a game with Y/N L/N? Because I assure you, I haven’t seen much but I know damn well that those two months with her pure, unfiltered, undying, devotion.”

Yelena’s words puncture a hole into her conscience, injecting venom with it. Each syllable, each emphasis, cuts her. Because Natasha knows that it’s true, but she can’t accept it or she’ll never be able to let you go.

So all she does is give Yelena the best death stare she can muster, and stalk out of her bathroom like her clothes aren’t dripping with bubbly water. (Yes, she had gone into the bathtub with all her clothes on. Depression waited for no man, or Goddess.)

She shakes her head, forcing the stray thoughts to dissipate, and fixes up her appearance with wordless magic.

My palace. Natasha visualizes the place, closing her eyes, and when she opens them again, she’s standing right outside the door.

Apprehensively, she puts her hand on the handle to the huge, sparkling door. You would be waiting on the other side, waiting for Natasha to come home.

Waiting for Natasha to break your heart.

She pushes the door open before she can cower and hide, before she can run away and curse every sentient being in existence.

It was time for her mortal demise.

—

It was time for Natasha to see the fruits of your hard work.

You wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand, huffing heavily but proud nonetheless. You step back to admire the absolute feast you had prepared for your girlfriend.

The fancy dining table was adorned with a checkered tablecloth and ornate with all kinds of things, expensive plates and cutlery already set up, just for two.

It was no secret that Natasha loved your home-cooked meals, despite being able to eat whatever she wanted, as a Goddess with a private chef. She had sworn you put something magical into your food.

You’ll never forget the moan she let out the first time she ate your perfected medium-rare New York Strip.

Which is exactly why you’ve spent over an hour cooking up a banquet of all kinds of food for the Goddess, an array of cuisines from all around the world. As much as you loved the hot sex you had with Natasha, you were an absolute sucker for the domesticity of life with her, how simple and perfect it was.

As if on cue, you hear the front door open, which was not too far away from the dining hall.

Your heart physically leaps, unbridled excitement adorning your features. Natasha had taken longer than she normally would, and you could barely contain the anticipation thrumming in your bones.

That is, until you see Natasha standing in the hallway defeatedly, shoulders sagged and eyes lowered. Like all the life had been sapped out of her.

Fuck, you had never seen her like this. Natasha was the embodiment of undying energy, always with a smile on her face, or her expression schooled into composure, or her eyes fluttering in a state of lust. Not like this.

Never like this.

“Darling?” you ask, hushed. You take one step towards her, tentatively. The head of red hair looks up to you, and Natasha’s biting her lip like she’s stopping the words from falling out of her mouth, like she’ll start crying if you say one word more.

“I-” Natasha tries, her voice hoarse and choked. The rest of her sentence dies in her throat, as she shakes her head and strides past you quickly, like she can’t burn any longer under your gaze.

Your hand drops in complete loss as Natasha simply walks past you, shoulders brushing like a ghost of what used to be warm hugs and sweet kisses. You chase after her before you know it, yelling her name as the Goddess speeds up.

Natasha blinks back tears furiously, striding through the dining hall as the servants scatter like mice. She hardly registers the feast prepared on the ornate table, vision blurring with each desperate cry of her name you let out.

“Natasha? What’s the matter? Talk to me, please!”

You sprint faster, dodging your way through the hallways and up the wide set of stairs. The Goddess is within arm’s reach, now, and you extend your arm to grab onto hers, so you can spin her around and ask what on earth is going–

And the Goddess simply teleports away at the last second, the fleeting touch of her warm skin dissipating into thin air.

“Fuck!” you yell, eyes darting in frustration. Why was Natasha acting like this? Had you done something? Forget her birthday? No, that was December 3rd. Forget the anniversary of your first meeting? Nope, that was January 24th. What on earth had you done? Or had she done something? You–

No, okay, calm down. Slow down. The rational voice in your head speaks up. Where would Natasha have gone? What was a significant place she would escape to, in times of distress?

After a moment of contemplation, you find your answer, and sooner than later you’re sprinting up the long flight of spiral staircases to the Astronomy Tower.

—

Natasha’s thankful for the dome-shaped glass ceiling the tower has, doing what it can to block out the cold. The sky is absolutely breathtaking, a heart-wrenching contrast to her inner turmoil.

It’s a dark blue and a soft pink, with millions of little bright planets splashing across the canvas like silver sequins. The view of the galaxy from the land of the Gods had always been the greatest, after all.

The Goddess stands, unmoving and breathing lightly. She doesn’t feel the least bit better, but at least she’s calmed down in the slightest.

She’s bought some time by teleporting up here. Her hands were clammy, but no matter how many times she wipes them down on her dress it doesn’t change a thing. She can’t change a thing, not for anything, not for you.

“Natasha?” you ask, weakly, heaving at having sprinted up so many flights of stairs.

At the sight of you, the Goddess feels the tears spring back into her eyes again. Stupid. She wants to say sorry. Stroke your face and kiss your lips, maybe. Well, not maybe, because she can’t. Because it’s the last– nope, she can’t say it.

“Nat, can you….. fuck, I need to work out more. Can you tell me what’s going on, please? I made- I made a New York Strip, if you’re hungry–”

The Goddess walks up to you, cradling the side of your face in her hands. Oh, fuck it. Tender, sweet, delicate. You’ve never seen her face like this before, so soft yet so broken.

“What—”

You’re cut off when Natasha leans into your space, eyelids fluttering shut. And for once, this wasn’t preordained or predetermined. You didn’t have to calculate the next move. You didn’t have to fix a destiny.

Natasha’s lips meet yours in a grand, cruel, beautiful, broken kiss.

It feels so right, tongues interlocking like cogs on a machine, quavering breaths escaping from the sides of her mouth. You let her in, you drink her up. All other thoughts shut down.

Natasha kisses you with a hyena’s jaw, swearing she could never get enough, never satiate her desires for you, even if everything else is wrong. You’re stealing her every breath, every kiss, every sigh — she needed more.

She slides her hand down your torso, hands already finding the hem of your pants. But then you push her away – for the first time, for that last time – you push her away, and step back, and your head is spinning.

“I deserve to know,” you breathe heavily, and Natasha’s heart cracks. “You’re scaring me, Nat, okay? First you brush past me all soulless, and then you make me chase after you, and then you kiss me so- so sadly, and now you wanna fuck? It doesn’t make sense, not at all. I wanna know, I deserve to know, I–”

“You deserve everything,” Natasha interrupts, eyes transfixed on you now, and they look kaleidoscopic, just like the galaxy that hung above your heads. “You deserve everything, but I can’t give you what you need, and that’s why this is the last time we’re ever seeing each other again.”

Silence ensues.

You take a good moment to actually mentally digest what Natasha had just said. “...What?”

“This is the last time we’re ever seeing each other again,” she repeats, firmer. You let out a bark of laughter in disbelief, half-joking, but Natasha’ stony face makes your face drop.

“Are you… breaking up with me?” you whisper, scared to say it loud, like doing so would make it less true. Natasha feels her heart clench, and her hands shake because you’ve never sounded so small, so vulnerable.

“No, I’m not– I had to, Y/N, darling,” Natasha says, trying to reason, clasping your hands in hers, shaking her head desparately, like it would stop her eyes from welling up. “I’m a Goddess, and you’re a mortal. I love you, please. But we can’t do this, we can’t-”

“Is it me?” you ask, softly, troubled. Eyes locking Natasha’s magnificent green eyes, one’s that you’ve fallen in love with a thousand times. Ones that you were still in love with.

“No,” Natasha says immediately, her knuckles whitening. “It’s not you. Definitely not.”

“Then who is it?” you follow up, eyes narrowing, head tilted. “Who’s the one tearing us apart?”

It was them, Natasha wants to scream out, until her lungs burned and her chest heaved and she ran out of tears. You’re the best fucking thing that’s happened in my life, and I’m a damned fool if I ever let you go, but this isn’t in my hands anymore. She wanted to curse the higher beings for centuries, taint their names with bitter words, but she couldn’t get the words out of her mouth.

You grow more hopeless as the silence stretches on.

No, you’re the villain. Natasha’s voice says in her head. This was what had come to bite her back, this was her karma. You’re paying for everything you’ve ever done wrong, for all the hearts you’ve broken and never mended. It’s your turn to face the music, your turn to go through suffering. What a shame, isn’t it? That she’s the one who’s so hurt because of you. Y/N L/N. Only person to blame is yourself.

…Only person to blame is yourself.

“It’s me,” Natasha finally says, a shell of a woman who once was, and the Goddess swears she hears your heart smash into smithereens, the glass pieces against the floor you trod on.

“No, what are you saying, Nat?” you ask, confused, tearing up, visibly shaking. “You’re- we’re together. We’re doing good. We’re doing so fucking good, please don’t–”

“I’m the Goddess of Lust, and you’re an attorney from earth. We were never gonna work out. I wasn’t made to have long-lasting, committed relationships. Just… lustful nights,” the falsehood of the words that fell out of Natasha’s mouth wasn’t her own. It tasted bitter on her tongue, but it was like medicine and it was the right thing to do.

You needed a villain. Someone to hate. Someone to blame it all on.

And Natasha happened to be a very good one.

“We were a time-ticking bomb, Y/N, separated by galaxies you could never even fathom.” she continues. “We were never meant to be. I realise how wrong I am for this, because it was never real–”

“It was real to me!” You yell out, voice cracking, tears in your eyes.

Natasha is stunned by the sheer volume of your words, so ferocious and so determined and fuck, she was pathetic. “It was fucking real to me, alright? It was the realest thing I’ve ever had in my entire life. It was so fucking real, Nat, so you don’t get to just pretend you never fell in love!”

Love.

“Love?” Natasha asks, letting out an amused huff of disbelief. “Love doesn’t exist, not in my world, Y/N L/N. It had to end at some point, you know that. You have your responsibilities, I have mine. We’re over, alright?”

You stand there, feet rooted on the ground, face fallen and ashen and grey. This was a dream. This was a dream, and you’d wake up next to the real Natasha later, the one with sweet smiles and peanut butter cookies, and everything would be alright.

“I’ve said what I had to say,” the Goddess says, and she has to regulate her breathing so she won’t choke on her words and swallow them back. She had to escape before she fell to her knees and begged you for forgiveness. “I’m leaving, now.”

She turns, and you grab her arm. “You’re staying.” you state, non-negotiable. A commanding tone. One that Natasha had grown to love.

This time, she scoffs, wrenching herself out of your grasp. “Fucking make me, then.”

Just like that, a lever between the two of you was flicked, and the sexual tension you’d been trying to avoid since just now is nearly suffocating.

“We’re not gonna do this right now,” You growl, looking up at the ceiling with a clenched jaw. Teetering on the edge of precipice was your raging impulse, to either punch a hole in the wall or shove your hand up Natasha’s skimpy dress.

The Goddess tilts her head up in defiance, looking at you daringly in the eyes. Your eyes narrow, taking it as a challenge. God, she looked so fucking bratty like that, and it didn’t help that she was still wearing a stupidly skimpy dress and that her pink lip gloss made that mouth so damn kissable.

“No? Then I’m leaving,” Natasha says abruptly, her tone of voice unyielding and domineering. She uncrosses her arms and turns on her heel, her hand going to the door of the tower.

The rhythmic clicking of her strappy high heels against the tiling of the ground ticks your brain like a metronome. You stand there with your arms folded, her long legs in the field of vision of narrowed eyes.

Click, click, click–

And then she’s being spun around and slammed against the back of the door with an unruly force.

“The only time someone ever turns their back on me, when I’m talking, is when they’re bendin’ over,” you growl into Natasha’s skin, each pause in your sentence filled with a harsh bite to her porcelain skin. Her gasp-turned-moan is heaven to your ears.

Natasha struggles for a moment, hand still grasping for the doorknob. “Fuck,” she cries, but she feels the gyration of your roughly-shoved thigh up her dress and she nearly loses it. You wrap a hand around her neck, letting her give up her power, and you do what you’ve done a thousand times before.

Except this was the last time.

You don’t bother to take off her garments as you hike up the bottom of her dress and push your front against her. “Fuck,” Natasha moans, feeling your rock-hard bulge against her panties. She tries to grind against it, tries to alleviate the growing tension, but you do nothing more than rut against her until she’s fucking soaking.

“I don’t think so,” you growl, hands going to her ass as you push her up against the wall. Your mouth latches on to whatever slivers of bare skin you can find, on her neck and her collarbone and her upper cleavage.

You suck hard on her porcelain skin, leaving marks like you could claim her. Like this wouldn’t be the last time. “Please,” Natasha begs, indescribably aroused, her panties completely soaked through. You had never been this unforgiving.”Need you, please.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t what you were saying just now, hmm?” You ask, harshly, slapping the side of her thigh just because you can. You pin her against the wall with your knees and your left hand, using the other to unbuckle your own pants.

She tries to reach out to help you, but you slap her hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” you say coldly, and Natasha wants to cry but she knows she brought it upon herself.

It takes you more time on your own, but you get the job done and the sight of your cock, the one Natasha took the first day she met you, it makes her cunt grow a heartbeat and she’s a fucking mess against the wall.

“Now you need me so bad?” You taunt, rubbing the tip of it against the slit of her pussy. “Don’t have any more words to say?” God, she’s absolutely drenched, and you think you’re gonna die if you don’t go inside her in the next five seconds.

This was probably the worst way to communicate, but, fuck, the two of you were bad at talking and you couldn’t resist the divine goddess that was Natasha, no matter how badly she had hurt you.

You nearly cum the second you enter the Goddess. Her velvet walls cling tight to you, so warm, too fucking warm. Natasha’s babbling something you don’t understand, but you can’t wait any longer.

“Oh, fuck!” she moans, as you slide your cock into her wet cunt with ease.

Your bodies move together with every thrust, Natasha’s legs wrapped tight around your torso as you thrust into her against the door. It’s hard, and fast, and rough, and nothing tender like your Saturday mornings.

She clings to your back, head thrown back, moans and cries bouncing off the sides of the wall. The door is shaking, like it might crack from the sheer weight of your thrusts into her.

You grunt at the inconvenience of that prospect, instead opting to walk the two of you back to a desk in the corner. Natasha gasps, whimpering into your neck as you walk across the floor with your cock still deep inside her pussy. It’s too sensitive, so sensitive everywhere.

You bend her over the desk, pulling away then lining yourself up again.

You’re about to make her beg, before the irrational, carnal side of your mind takes over, and you’re pounding into her pretty little cunt mercilessly. Grunting and groaning as lodge your cock in deeper with each harder thrust, as her moans delve into a symphonic crescendo of screams of your name.

She’s thrashing around, so warm and so wet and so overstimulated all over, but you don’t let up for a moment. You only grip her thighs harder and make her hear how wet she is, before Natasha’s eyes are rolling into the back of her head and there’s drool at the sides of her mouth.

“Pretty slut,” you grunt, pulling out to slap at her puffy clit before she’s squirting, white cream going all over the mattress. “Daddy,” Natasha moans pornographically, visibly shuddering at your degradation. She might like it, a little too much.

The title that had fallen from her lips elicits a groan of acknowledgement out of you, but simultaneously brings back the bittersweet flashbacks of your time spent with her.

This was the last time.

After she’s come down from her high and you’ve hit your climax, you spread her legs and lean down to get a good taste.

"Oh! Daddy - ungh - please," she begs, as your tongue meets her overstimulated cunt. Natasha hadn't even recovered from her previous orgasm, still bent over the desk and panting like she was in heat.

You lap greedily at her wet cunt from behind, and the sheer novelty of how many times you’ve done this truly hits you. How many hours you’ve spent exploring Natasha’s body. How many days you’ve spent worshipping.

All for it to succumb to this.

It’s only after another few orgasms that the weight of ‘the last time’ hits you. Both of you have ended up on the floor, completely naked, heaving heavily to regain oxygen.

“I loved you,” you whisper, hovering above Natasha, and the use of the past tense makes chips away at Natasha’s heart. It’s only then does she realise that there are tears on her cheeks, because you’re crying.

“You deserve someone better,” is the only thing the Goddess says, a ghost of her whisper on your lips.

“You've ruined me for anyone else,” you say, face devoid of the passion there once was. “You loved me so tenderly I won't be able to have another, had such good sex I can't sleep with anyone else.”

Natasha doesn’t respond to that. She can’t respond to that. There were too many unsaid words, broken promises, a future yet to be.

Both of you look up at the pink-blue sky, bare backs on an astronomy tower, bound by love and unbound by timelines and galaxies. It was brokenly beautiful, undeniably so.

You only wish everything could’ve been different.

—

You wake up the next day in an unfamiliar bedroom. The room was far too small, the walls were too grey, the air was too cold, and fuck.

No, no, no, fuck. This was not happening.

Realisation slams into your exhausted body like a two-hundred kilogram sledgehammer, and you're winded by the weight of the impact.

This wasn't Natasha's home. This wasn't her fancy palace.

This wasn't the Goddess' universe.

Air crushes your lungs. Your heart pounds in your chest.

This was your bedroom. This was your universe. The one you had spent all your days in, before you met the love of your life.

At least, who you so stupidly believed to be the love of your life.

You get up with a start, the ache in your bones forgotten with the sheer emotions coursing through your veins, terror and disbelief and anger.

Your mind swims as you grab at anything you can, overturning furniture and messing up papers to find anything, anything, that could explain why this had happened.

Deep inside your chest, you had already known. Even if you managed to fool yourself. Even if you’d dreamt up a whole future of your life with her.

With a shuddering breath, your eyes fall to an envelope on your bedside table. You open it with trembling hands, almost fearful of what lay beyond.

In the envelope, contained a signed check with so many zeroes you could live luxuriously for the rest of days.

In the envelope, contained a note with five fated words and the name of the one that got away.

All you're left with is a broken promise, an agonized cry, and the ghost of what could've been.

To every universe and back,

N.R.

series m.list | main m.list | AO3

4.5k words my eyes are not okay i've been staring my screen and typing for two hours straight, look what i'm going thru for yall

#natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #bottom natasha romanoff #sub natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #x reader #top reader #dom reader #natasha romanoff smut #gxg smut #wlw smut #goddess natasha #marvel smut #natasha romanoff x reader angst #natasha romanoff angst

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be-missed · 6 months

Text

Cool About It

Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

Summary: Jenna and Y/N are life-long best friends, but can Y/N still stand and hide her feelings after Jenna pulled a prank on her?

Warning/s: curse words, notify me if there are any.

A/N: Hi, hope this can be a good substitute for Chap 4 of Not Strong Enough. Enjoy! (clearing things out, this is not the Chapter 4 for Not Strong Enough, this is just a substitute story for you all, so that you have something to read while waiting for the Chapter 4 for Not Strong Enough.)

Masterlist

Nothing To Lose (Part 2) | Bad for Business (Part 3)

------------------------------------------------------------------

"Come on it'll be fun, we can walk around the park and then ride the boat." Jenna explained while lying down in Y/N's bed and scrolling through her phone.

Y/N looked at her with a questioning look and said "Isn't that a bad idea? Because people might hover over us and people will just follow us and that is something that my anxiety can't handle."

"Noooo, pleaseee. This is a good idea, it's a Thursday afternoon, nobody or only least people will be at the park." Jenna answered, pouting.

"Jenna, stop." Y/N said with a smile on her face "You know it's hard for me when you do that."

Ans Jenna just smiled because she knows that Y/N is so close to going "Pleeaasseeee, pretty pleaseeee. I'll buy you an ice cream." Jenna proposed.

"Hmm, you think an ice cream can make me agree with your plan, huh?" Y/N answered.

"Yes, I know that you will agree to me sooner. Just imagine us binding after such a long time of not seeing each other. Also, may I remind you that I'll be leaving the country in December to film for Wednesday so this is a great time to spend with me before we get situated again in face time." Jenna is now showing Y/N a sad face.

Jenna's statement made Y/N wonder, that yes, it is true that Jenna's break will be over soon, meaning that she will be receiving a call or a message from Jenna during ungodly times which, she diligently answers, whether it may be a call or a message.

Y/N sighs and Jenna knows that y/N will now agree with her plan. But before Y/N agrees, Jenna started to jump in Y/N's bed and smiles at Y/N.

"You know me so fucking well Jenna Marie Ortega." Y/N said while scratching her brow "Yes, sure we'll go to the park."

And then Jenna went ot hug Y/N and delivers ton of kisses on Y/N's face.

Y/N thought, "Fucking hell, how can I disagree with this girl. If she tells me to jump on a tall something, I would even do some back flips. She wants me to run around New York City? I would do it with my tits out. She want me to marry her and be the mother of her children? I will for sure do that without a doubt. The last part, is a false hope. I know Jenna isn't into me since the first time that I met her."

"Okay, collect your things and get dressed, we're going to Central Park." Y/N said and taps Jenna's crown and smiled at her like a cute puppy.

Even if Jenna and Y/N are together, they will literally wear the headphones that they bought for each other, just to drown out their environment. But even the noise cancelling headphone can't stop them to communicate with each other. After knowing each other so well for years, they don't need to communicate verbally.

While walking, Y/N then got lost again with her own thoughts. She feels that Jenna knows that she likes her more than a best friend should have for quite some time now. That is why in the past few months, Y/N has been getting a lot more "busier" when it comes to Jenna. She tries so hard to detach herself from the girl. If Jenna won't be kind enough to be cruel about it and just reject her, then Y/N will try to be cool about it even though it's probably not even true.

Arriving at Central Park, the two girls started to walk nonchalantly, going where their feet take them, not caring about the people that took notice of them.

They sometime give snacks to the pigeons or the ducks that they passed by, try to pet the dog that was sitting beside their owner. Taking a look at thier surroundings, both of them realised that a lot from the park changed, the becnhes that were once there, the trees thatvwere cut out and displaced by another plant, and the rusts on the bench that they always pass by.

Y/N was walking not until Jenna stopped by the row boat rentals and Y/N just moved her head from side to side "Nuh uh, Jenna. We won't and we can't." Y/N said.

"But why? We used to ride the boats and just row around, pretending to be a part of a rowing team." Jenna stated pulling at Y/N's sleeve.

"Jen, that was before." Y/N reasoned.

Jenna looked sad "Do you not want to be seen with me? Is that it?"

That was the last thing that Y/N wants Jenna to think of because it is not true.

"No, absolutely not. I just think that..." Y/N said not knowing any reason on why not to ride the boat.

"See you have no reasons to not ride it. So please let's ride the boat." Jenna said, and with that they got a boat, just the two of them and started to row.

Many people are also in their own boat, talking, playing, laughing and admired their surroundings. Also, Y/N and Jenna's boat didn't get unnoticed by the people in the park or inside the boat. People were waving at them and calling Jenna's name. Jenna waved back or replied to them but her focus was still focused on you, not until you hear Jenna coughed.

Many boats surrounds you as this is where one of the good spots for a picture. It means that many people also surrounds you and can literally hear each other.

"Mhmm, Y/N, I don’t know where to start..." Jenna said with a smirk ok her face and Y/N didn't know what's going on, Jenna then continued "We have known each other for a lot of years, we have been with each other through our ups and downs and we are still here." Jenna then secretly took the ring from her pointer finger and present it in front of you.

Now. Now Y/N is so baffled with what is Jenna doing, people started to look at them and paid attention to what is happening inside their boat. Even the people who are in land started to stop and watch the scene unfolding in front of them.

"I have loved you ever since I met you and I want to love you 'till the day I die. I just want to ask if, will you marry me?" Jenna got up from her seat and started to kneel with her right knee.

Y/N's thoughts are all over. Why is Jenna fucking doing this? Is this her way to fucking play with her feelings? Is this all a joke to Jenna? She wants Jenna to be cruel about it and just reject her but not this way, Y/N will try her best to be cool about it even if it's not, but this stunt? Y/N didn't know if she can still see Jenna and not say some hurtful things towards the girl.

Everyone around them started to cheer and fished their phone out to capture this moment, because hell, Jenna Ortega is proposing. Flashing of lights where delivered from each phone that is hanging out, hollers and congratulations can be heard in different directions, claps can be heard everywhere and that triggered Y/N.

It was so loud around her, and why the fuck is Jenna proposing to her.

"Jenna I need to get out." Y/N said.

"What do you mean?" Jenna started to see the panic in Y/N's eyes.

"Fuck Jenna I need to get out of here" Y/N stated and started to row the boat in a faster pace that forced Jenna to take a seat.

As the boat started to get near the dock, Y/N didn't gave Jenna a time to talk and bolted away. Away from the girl, away from the people, and away from the world.

---

Many hours has passed but Jenna can't still contact Y/N. Jenna even waited in front of Y/N's front door for hours but there were no signs of her best friend.

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A/N: Hoped this is good enough. Thoughts and comments are open, thanks for reading!

Nothing To Lose (part 2)

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #fanfic #fiction #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader

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magics-neptunes-things · 4 months

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Hi :)

So like I said last time, this one might be a little darker than the other, you will kind of learn of Y/N's dark background but I try to put some fluff to make the balance.

I hope you will enjoy it, I puted warning inside the chapter for people who might be bothered by the TW.

TW : Angst, mention of torture (?), domestic violence, mention of smut.

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 5 I PART 6 | PART 7

______________________________________________________________

After your first time together, it’s like you opened the floodgates of a churn. You and Leah just can’t resist each other’s call anymore. There’s not a night you’ve spent separately, constantly rediscovering each other’s bodies. You don’t know if this is the expectation you have imposed on yourself talking but you don’t really care about the truth. You’ve never felt so good and confident with someone, Leah even managed to stop making you wonder everyday how you would survive the end of your relationship. Still without a label, by the way.

Of course, sometimes Leah goes out without you at night, finding friends like Alex. You take advantage of these evenings to spend time with yours or to call others who are not in the same place as you. Either you go out for a drink or you end up in Alessia’s apartment, alone with her or with other people. It has become a routine without really being one but it suits you very well like that.

********

"What is it?"

You’re lying on your front with your face on the pillow that Leah usually sleeps on, in her house. Lying on her side, facing you, Leah was sliding her fingers on your bare back. You know exactly what it is, but you feel your heart racing when her fingers stop on a mark on your back. You know that a star is drawn right here, masking one scar under the colors of your tattoo. You hardly swallow your saliva and close your eyes before answering her.

"A scar" you mumble

Behind you, Leah frowns and rises herself slightly, leaning on her elbow. Her fingers slide towards another star, realizing that there is here another hidden scar. Your breathing also accelerated when Leah slipped her fingers on all the stars, all the scars, present on your back.

"What happened to you?" whispers Leah.

You close your eyes stronger, as if this gesture would allow you to escape the emotions that gradually take hold of you. Leah seems to notice your trouble, getting closer to you to wrap you in a comforting embrace. It takes you a few seconds to realize that it works. Her presence serves as a shield against all these negative emotions that usually invade you when you think about this part of your past. That make you breath a little easily.

Leah’s question made you feel like she didn’t need an answer back, which is why you take the time to answer it.

"These are cigarette burns"

A deafening silence takes place in the room and you feel Leah gently detaching from your back. You miss her touch, but she gently turns you on her back, an extra care cutting with the visible fury in her eyes. It takes your breath away.

"Who did that to you?"

Her voice is low with anger. You shake your head and bite your lip. You’ve never felt more vulnerable than at this moment, yet you know you can have full confidence in her. Understanding once again what is happening in your head, Leah gently takes your cheek in her hand and caresses you gently with her thumb, waiting for you to answer.

"It’s in the past, Lee" you answer in a low voice.

Her gaze plunged into yours probes you at length, but she finally nods. You slide an arm around her waist when she lies on you to press her forehead against yours.

"I’ll tell you one day, I promise." you mumble

"Just… I want you to know that I’m here, Y/N. Against all odds, even if it’s a day when we’re fighting over kid stuff. Call me and I’ll be there."

You can't answer anything at that, the emotions way to strong, your throat clenching with them. But Leah doesn't seems to mind, kissing your cheek lovingly and laying her head next to yours. You can feel her starring, but your gaze stay fixed on the ceiling. You don't want to hide from her, but you don't want to scare her either.

"Stop overthinking Cutie"

You smile when you hear her whispers and kissing the corner of your mouth.

"You miss" you whisper back, turning your head in her direction.

Leah smiles back and kiss you full on your lips, stroking your jaw with her thumb. You fall asleep not long after, protecting from the darkness with her arms.

********

The return of the championship in January also announces the return of Leah on the fields. And you couldn’t be more excited to see her play again and especially to play with her. Until now you have only had her as an opponent and she has always given you a hard time. To have her as an opponent only during your training where you end up teasing each time like two teenagers suits you very well.

Leah returned only a few minutes acte the second half, but the cheer and joy of the crowd was worth the wait. Leah’s smile too and since all eyes must be turned towards her, you do not refrain from looking over her. It’s worth a playing elbow from Katie, to whom you pull out your tongue.

Despite the slight worry of seeing her play again, the rest of the game went very well. When the blonde launches into a perfectly executed slid tackle to steal the ball from the opponent, you can’t help but smile.

"She’s back" says an excited Alessia by putting an arm around your shoulders.

"Yeah. She’s back" you answer with a smile.

The party that takes place at Kim’s to celebrate the team’s victory and Leah’s return will certainly earn her some enmity in her neighborhood. Almost all players are present, even those who usually prefer to go home. You found yourself in Leah’s arms at the beginning of the evening, but overall you managed to let her enjoy this evening with everyone.

It’s only when you’re beating Alessia and Laia Codina at the beerpong with Wally as a teammate that the blonde makes her appearance back at you.

"Leah stop" you laugh when you feel her pinching your ribs.

You’ve always been awfully ticklish, something Leah has only discovered very recently. Since then, she hasn’t been shy about abusing it.

"Hey, stop distracting my partner."

Lia gently pushes Leah from you to allow you to throw your ball, but Laia barely drank the liquid inside that Leah finds herself glued to you again, your back pressed against her.

"I need my hugs" Leah whines, wrapping around you like an octopus.

You smile tenderly, turning your head in her direction to put a kiss on her cheek.

"We just need Less to miss twice more and we won" you answer maliciously.

"Hey that's mean!" exclaims Alessia, frowning from the other end of the table.

The truth is that you have to wait three shots instead of two, Alessia succeeding hers but Laia missing the other two.

"Winner winner!" sing Lia

You high five with her, all smiles, Leah still hanging on your back. Laia tries to demand revenge, but it was not counting the intervention of the blonde.

"Oh no! She’s mine now"

And with that she takes you inside, leaving Victoria to help Lia win her second game of the evening.

The hangover of the next day is awful. It's only at 2pm that you manage to get out of bed to go slump on your couch, after swallowing water and tablets that are supposed to make your headache go away.

The struggle seems to be general since soon after, Alessia slips into your apartment with the same tired face as you, a giant paper bag in her hand.

"I made a mistake in my food order, I hope you like Chinese"

It turns out that instead of ordering a pack of chicken skewers, Alessia accidentally ordered 10. After you’ve cleaned them to the best of their peanut sauce, Leah agree to eat some of them with baked potatoes you made for her, Alessia teasing you about you being so whipped. For your part, you gladly help Alessia to reduce her pile of Cantonese rice.

"Lia is alive and Katie and Caitlin too. I’m not sure about Beth though" Leah informs you after throwing her phone somewhere in your couch.

You laugh slowly, finishing your chicken. You end the day watching nonsense on television, your head leaning on Leah’s shoulder while sitting against her and Alessia’s legs lying on your knees. And honestly, this is the best hangover day you’ve ever had.

********

The almost daily presence of Leah in your apartment doesn’t prevent Alessia from coming to meet you as regularly as before. It even happens that you go to her appartment with Leah, as is the case today for a cup of coffee before training. After you finish yours, you get up, dropping a quick kiss on Leah’s hair before you slip away to finish getting ready.

Leah continues the conversation with Alessia for a few moments, before losing herself in contemplation of the bottom of her cup of coffee. Deciding to leave her in her thoughts, Less quietly finishes hers, nevertheless raising her gaze on her friend when she resumes speaking.

"Can I ask you something?" Leah suddenly said.

"Of course"

Curiosity takes hold of Alessia who looks at Leah with an interrogative air.

"Look, I have a question. I know you’ve slept with Y/N.. " Leah begin before interrumpting herself when she sees Alessia’s wide-eyes. "Oh god no. Not like that Less"

"Yeah well because not at all"

Leah rolls her eyes and shakes her head smiling.

"I mean of course she’s pretty but…"

"Ok stop fantasing about my girl and focus please. But I was wondering, did she ever have nightmares when she was with you?"

Frowning again, Alessia looks thoughtfully at Leah, trying to remember this information.

"Maybe once, yes. But I’m a heavy sleeper, it’s not for nothing that I have to set ten alarms before getting up. She woke up suddenly and jumped, that’s what woke me up. Why?"

Leah bite her lip and shrugs, her cup still thoughtfully in her hands. She doesn’t know how open you are to her talking to your friends about your sleep problems, but if Alessia already knows, it doesn’t ok, right?

"I don’t know. She’s got a lot of them lately…"

"Did you try to talk about it with her?"

Leah shakes her head negatively. No, she never wanted to talk to you about it since you usually fall back down quite quickly against her and you go back to sleep just as quickly. And in the morning, you don’t seem to want to talk about it either.

"Maybe give it a try."

"Try what?" you ask when you come back to Miss Russo’s apartment.

"To be on time at training, for once" Leah replies, getting up after glancing at the clock on the wall.

********

TW : MENTION OF TORTURE

You’re lying on a bed where you haven’t been back on in years. The room is more oppressive, more gloomy and unhealthy than you remember. Other than that, nothing seems to have changed. Not even the unpleasant contraction that twists your belly when the apartment door opens and is slammed a few seconds later. Helena’s heavy steps seem to echo throughout the apartment as she makes her way to her bedroom.

You jump when the door opens and you understand in one glance that she is in an awful mood.

"I thought I told you to drop your stupid football?"

The force of her words is equivalent to the door of the room slamming when she closes it. After that, she approaches you to tackle you against the mattress.

"As if you were able to achieve anything good. You're less than nothing, I don't even know what I do with you."

Her icy voice gives you goose bump but you manage to find the strength to answer her, hating the way your voice looks so small.

"They said I’m good enough to join the national team"

"Shut up."

The slap you receive is usual, but still humiliating. Hurtful. You desperately hold back your tears but you become aware of the extent of her anger when she grabs you by the hair to turn you on the stomach. The noise of the lighter she lights and the noise that makes the cigarette pack when she opens it terrorize you.

END TW : MENTION OF TORTURE

"No, please, please!"

"Babe wake up!"

You are awakened by hands on your shoulders, shaking you hard with the obvious purpose of waking you up. When you open your eyes you’re facing Leah’s blue eyes, full of concern and maybe a little of panic.

If your first reflex was to retreat abruptly until you find yourself pinned to the headboard, you quickly regain awareness of reality. You’re with Leah and her blue eyes, not your ex and her icy gray eyes.

"It’s okay, honey, you were having a nightmare. You’re safe, yeah?"

You swallow and nod, trying to catch your breath. Your shirt is wet with sweat and you’re wondering how long Leah’s been trying to wake you up. She asks you about your nightmares two days before and was looking at you since then. Especially when you told her that she didn't have to worry about it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Leah gently asks as she chases a lock of hair from your face.

She doesn’t seem to be bothered by your reaction. You close your eyes and gently shake your head. You don’t want to impose her the world that was yours before. You don’t know why you had this nightmare again, it’s been months since it happened to you. And when it did, you were alone. You never spent the night with your other ex, just afraid that this kind of thing would happen. But, again, you trust Leah. You just don’t want her to learn all the details of what you’ve been through. You’re afraid it will change her outlook on you.

"Hug?"

This time you smile softly, opening your eyes. You sigh of relief as you feel Leah’s arms around you and slide your face into the hollow of her neck. You stay there for many minutes, calming your nerves, until you feel good enough to realize that cuddling someone full of sweat like you are doesn’t have to be very pleasant.

"Do you mind if I take a shower?"

"Of course not" Leah replies simply.

You smile again and push back the sheet that is wrapped around your legs to get out of bed. Just then, Leah gently grabs your chin in her hand.

"Hey" says the blonde softly, her eyes into yours. "Whatever it is, Y/N. I’ll always be there"

Unable to answer her, you just kiss her wrist. This kind of promise reassures you, but also scares you a little. Because the more time passes, the more you get attached to her and the more you risk burning your wings if she decides you’re too much for her. Even if you don’t think about her leaving you everyday, it’s one of your biggest fear.

You let her kiss your temple by sliding her hand on your cheek to tighten against her for a few seconds, before releasing you. You know the way to her bathroom by heart and you know where to find what you need. With time, you know her apartment as well as yours. As much as Leah knows yours. You quickly get rid of your wet clothes and turn on the water, waiting for it to heat up to the right temperature.

In the meantime, you find yourself caught in the spiral of your thoughts, perhaps returning a little too much towards your nightmare. Your eyes are mechanically on the bathroom door when Leah knocks it gently.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course"

Leah’s seen you naked dozens of times, but you appreciate her asking before she walks into the room. It’s exactly those little things that make you realize she’s different from the others. You even give her a sincere smile to which she answers, before you slip under the hot water.

"Need some help down there?"

When you look back at Leah, she has her famous smirk and that playing look that makes you fall in love every time again. You smile again and shrug.

"Maybe I need help rubbing my back"

Quickly rid of her clothes, Leah joins you under the hot water, not giving a care about the fact that it’s two in the morning. You didn’t expect her to take your joke at face value, but you see her grab the bottle of shower gel and put it in her hands before applying it to your back. A gesture perhaps banal for many, but so comforting and intimate that you feel your throat tie.

But you don’t cry, though. You're trying to put your weak moment behind. You close your eyes and sigh, enjoying Leah’s touch and pleasant massage.

When she has finished, you turn around to be able to look at her better. The heat of the water filled the bathroom with steam, but that doesn’t prevent you from distinguishing each of Leah’s features accurately. She looks back for some seconds before you slowly put a lock of her hair behind her ear. The amount of affection, love, you feel for here make your heart ache.

"I love you, Leah. I’m so in love with you."

The surprise lasts a few seconds on her face, before being replaced by a big smile. Different from the one you could see in the photos of the Euro 2022, certainly because it's another emotion that currently inhabits her. But her arms draw you against her and you let yourself going against her very willingly. The way your body seems to fit perfectly with hers will probably never cease to impress you. When Leah talk again, you can hear the emotions in her voice.

"I’m in love with you, too. I love you so much, I wouldn’t even know what words to use to describe it."

Your heart is pounding and you wonder if Leah can feel it against her skin. You lose yourself a few seconds in the vastness of the blue of her eyes before resuming talking.

"If I tell you everything about my past, you have to promise to never tell anyone"

You see Leah hesitating, slightly frowned. You have the impression of being able to read her thoughts and you know that she wonders if she will be able to keep such a promise, according to what you will tell her. You know that some informations will make her angry, scared or sad.

"It’s related to tonight’s nightmare?" she asks before continuing when you nod "And the scars in your back"

It’s not really a question, but you still answer it with a positive nod once again. You already knew she had drawn conclusions in her head, but you don’t know how right or wrong she is. Her gaze studies you for a few long seconds before she sighs, seeming to accept your request.

So you tell her everything.

Your meeting with Helena, your parents' opposition to you dating her, not because she was a girl but because she didn’t seem to be mentally stable enough. You tell her how much you wanted to stand up to them and prove them wrong, then how much you were wrong about her. You tell her about the shame you felt at the idea of asking for the help of your parents, yet so benevolent and affectionate with you. You talk to her about the physical abuse she’s inflicted on you, the verbal abuse, the sequestrations. And when you tell her the final step of the cigarettes she used extinguish on your back, Leah squeezes you so tightly that it would be impossible for the slightest drop of water to pass between your two bodies. It’s the most intimate thing you’ve ever experienced. Much stronger than sex. A silence settled between both of you, only disturbed by the sound of the water and your breaths.

"How did you get out?" Leah whispers, her face on your shoulder, after a few moments of silence at the end of your story.

"Ingrid picked me up. The training camp for the national team was in my city and I had been called. When she learns that I wasn't here without any explanation to anyone, she came to the house and helps me get out of here."

"Ingrid Engen knows all this?"

Leah steps back a few inches to look at you and you give her a sad smile.

"No. Well, she knows that Helena was opposed to me playing football and that I was not happy with her. She picked me up, helped me pack my things and I never saw Helena again from that day on. She never forced me to explain, just to support and advise me when I needed it. She took me back to my parents after that, until I had the contract with Man City."

"Being such a good person and ending up with Maria Leon" sighs Leah, making you laugh. "What a shame"

"We must stop this rivalry with the Spanish players, Williamson"

Leah makes a horrible grimace that makes you laugh again. You feel relieved to have shared this story with Leah, more than you could have imagined. And seeing her react the way you needed to is more than comforting. You feel like a weight was carry out of you.

"I owe her" Leah said after another silence.

"Mapi?"

"Nah, ew." Leah rolls her eyes "Ingrid."

"Why?"

"Because without her, I would never have had the chance to meet you."

A soft smile spreads on your face and you gently kiss your girlfriend. After a few minutes of cuddling under the hot water, you decide to return to the bedroom to enjoy the last hours of sleep before you have to prepare for tomorrow morning’s training. Leah proposes for you to skip it, but you don't want to.

Dressed in an old Leah jersey and underwear, you slip under the duvet and stick yourself directly against Leah when she joins you in her bed. It takes a few moments for you to regain a state of drowsiness and, as often, your mind starts again.

"Leah?" You whisper after a few minutes.

"Mh?"

She seems lost in her thoughts too.

"Would you tell me if everything I just said was too much for you?"

"What do you mean?" asks the pretty blonde while moving so she can look at you.

"I never told you about all this because I was afraid it would impact you too much. Let the… darkness within me invade you and mark you too much. I was afraid to dirty you with all this story"

You see Leah thinking a few seconds before answering you, probably to choose the best words to convey everything she thinks. Despite the fact that English isn't your first language, you have never had problems making yourself understood and vice versa.

"It’s part of your story Y/N, even if I would give everything so that you could go back in the past and escape that part of your story, it contributed to who you are. And I wouldn’t change anything about you. I fell in love with the person you are, with your qualities, your flaws and your past."

"Don’t you think I’m too damaged for you?"

"I think you’re perfect for me" Leah replies tenderly.

"Good. 'Cause you’re perfect for me, too."

"Good. Now back to sleep. You have to be in shape for tomorrow, when I’ll make you do extra tricks with Alessia and Manuela because of your antics."

You roll your eyes, laying again against your favorite blonde. She gently strokes your hair like she knows it make you fall asleep quite quickly.

"Lee?" you mumble some times after

"Yes Sweetheart?"

"Thank you"

********

Confiding in Leah about your past helped dispel the nightmares you had from time to time. While you thought that this would open the door to all kinds of memories, you realize that you continue to manage to keep them aside, well compartmentalized in a corner of your brain.

You carefully observed Leah’s behavior after you confessed, still fearing a change in it. Perhaps the only thing that has changed is her protective side. You have seen her wince several times when you find yourself on the ground after contacts during games, relaxing only when your eyes cross and you smile at her to reassure her that everything is fine.

Just before the middle of February, you find yourself at the table in your apartment and she takes advantage of Alessia having to take a phone call to ask you a question. You’ve noticed that she’s been trying to talk to you about something since this morning, but she changes her mind at the last minute. Fearing it was something related to your past, you cowardly decided not to insist on your side. Leah already asked you why you didn’t press charges and pointed out that it was still possible. She seemed upset when you told her you just needed to forget about that part of your past but she gave up.

"I was wondering" finally begins the blonde playing with her rings "Valentine’s Day. Would you like to do something special?"

"Oh."

Valentine’s Day, you honestly hadn’t thought about it for a single second and you feel a wave of panic seizing you. You don’t have any gifts planned for her and you’ve always sucked for ideas. It’s probably too late to order something from the internet anyway, with delivery times at a time of year like that.

"Hello?"

Leah’s voice resounds again and you suddenly shift your attention to her.

"Valentine’s Day? You want us to do something?"

You think for a few seconds while biting your lip before finally shrugging your shoulders.

"Honestly, I’ve never really celebrated Valentine’s Day. But I’m never against spending time with you, quite the contrary. We don’t need to do something extraordinary, just you and me and a good movie. It’ll be just fine."

It was not knowing Leah at all.

The only thing she listened in that sentence is that you never celebrated Valentine’s Day and she intends to make your first one special. You don’t even react when she informs you that she won’t go home with you right away after training on Valentine’s Day, having something to do before returning.

For your part, you imagine that you will just spend the evening at home with her. You thankfully managed to find her a gift. You asked Lia to go with you somewhere to find something for Leah, she knows her well. Lia initially refused, saying you were better placed to know Leah’s tastes. But in front of your despair and your supplications, she finally accepted.

Actually she was right and what you found, you could have found it on your own. But it was nice to have the Swiss woman by your side. You opted for a jewel, rather refined but that Leah can wear with just about anything she wants.

You are only dressed in your towel in the bathroom when you hear your apartment door open. Leah having had the double of your keys a long time ago, like Alessia, you pass your head by the door to know which of the two blondes is in your apartment.

"You could have waited for me" Leah jokes, making her way quickly to you when she realises you are almost naked.

"I thought you had already showered before leaving" you answer with a smile.

"True. I wouldn’t mind doing it again tho"

Leah sticks her arms around your waist. Your eyes meet in the mirror and she smiles at you gently before putting kisses along your jaw. Of course it makes you shiver and Leah knows exactly what she’s doing.

"Is this what you want to do on our Valentine’s Day party instead of the movie?"

Leah smiles mischievously and puts a kiss right under your ear before answering you.

"You don’t have to be so attractive"

You get a new kiss before she takes off from you, laughing softly as you sulk when she does.

"As much I like undress you, we can’t now. We have an appointment somewhere"

"What do you mean?" You turn around and ask.

"Get dressed darling" Leah said as she walked out of the bathroom.

One hour and a half later, you find yourself outside the city of London, a place you’ve never been to before. You went beyond Leah’s birthplace, which you recognized very easily since she took you there several times, and since then, you are lost. Leah seems to be in an excellent mood, you put her playlist on and you have fun hearing her sing with all her voice the songs that pass on her Spotify.

The night falling very quickly at this time of year, you can only admire her in the light of the street lamps or headlights of the cars you cross, but if you were in the apartment of one or the other, you would have jumped on her to kiss her a long time agi.

"Have we arrived?" you ask when the blonde is parking the car.

"Yes, ma'am" she happily answers by turning off the engine.

You didn’t wait more and you don’t hesitate to take her face with both hands to kiss her. You are no longer afraid to give in to your outbursts of love for her now that you have realized that she was still very far from complaining about it.

Leah don’t wait to answer your kiss, leaning over her seat to deepen it. Her tongue soon caresses yours and you momentarily forget where you are.

"Keep it up and you won’t even see your surprise" Leah whispers after a few minutes.

She’s as out of breath as you are, and you need a few seconds to regain control. When you decide to get out of the car, the fresh air helps you recover your spirits and you find that apart from the building that stands in front of you, you are surrounded only by houses.

"Is this where you plan to take me to kill me?" you joke while the blonde grabs your arm.

She laughs softly as she hears you, opening the door of the establishment in which she planned her surprise.

"Are we gonna get a massage?" you ask with a smile, realizing you’re in a spa.

"In some ways"

You bow an inquisitive eyebrow but Leah is content to answer you with an innocent smile before approaching the reception. You follow her quietly, looking around with curiosity. You’ve never set foot in an institute like this before. The massages you get are usually from Arsenal physiotherapists. Or Leah, when you watch a movie.

Lost in your contemplation, you come back to yourself when Leah trains you with her, following the receptionist. She invites you to undress in the locker room and you turn to Leah with a surprised look when she left.

"Um Lee? I don’t have a swimsuit?"

"Don’t worry. I got it all planned Honey."

This is how you find yourself a few minutes later wearing a black swimsuit, bought and offered by Leah, in a jacuzzi with a glass of champagne in your hand. After drinking a bit, she sticks to you and you make her sit with pleasure on your knees.

"It’s better than a movie in front of the television, right?" smiled the blonde.

"Definitely"

You smile back and steal a kiss, since you can. You are in a private space, reserved for you for the evening. You learn that Leah knew this place through a friend of her mother’s and you are strangely relieved to learn that this is the first time she comes there too. A little bit of jealousy would been sad in such a successful evening.

"I really like this swimsuit" Leah smiles when you come out of the jacuzzi, remembering that you thought about taking your gift with you. "But I’m not sure I’ll let you carry it without me"

You roll your eyes for any answer, coming back with the box containing the jewel you found. You give it to her timidly, but the smile that illuminates her face when she discovers it is enough to know that she likes it.

When you ask what she meant by a "more or less" massage, Leah simply smiles at you and offers you to lie on the massage table in a corner of the room. You quickly understand that your masseuse will be nobody but Leah and that’s even better like this.

"If I had known you were so good, I would have asked you to massage me earlier" you mumble, half asleep.

"You know I’m good with my fingers"

You hear the smirk in her voice and you open an eye to look at her. You can only smile when you hear her laugh. You continue to observe her, wondering by what alignment of the stars you managed to find such a perfect girl. Who seems to ask nothing more than to accept you as you are, with whom you get along so well and who makes you so happy.

"What?" Leah asks after a few moments, realizing that you continue to look at her.

"Nothing. I’m just happy."

"Well I’m happy you’re happy" laughs softly the blonde.

"Are you? Happy?"

"More than ever my girl"

______________________________________________________________

For the next part I was thinking about some jealousy but if you have something else in my I will listen with pleasure :)

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x you

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 3 months

Text

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱

Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 2,220

Warnings | +18, Taehyung gives bad advice, Jungkook obsessed and manipulative, the protagonist increasingly confused with herself

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.

If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.

She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! Have fun with this sixth chapter, let me know what do you think! 🥰

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @douknowbts, @aiiselle90210, @fewercascade , @mageprincess7, @m00njinnie

Taglist is open!

Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End

For several days Y/N could not sit properly, to her shame she had the constant need for help from Jungkook, which each time led her to clam up. The boy applied ointment to her every night to heal her wounds, which, shortly after that abrupt sexual intercourse of theirs, had appeared even more painful than the spanking itself, Jungkook avoided externalizing his happiness every time he touched her, encircling her soft buttocks in his hands gently, because on the other hand he saw the girl's detachment and felt guilty. Y/N could not forget the pain of that punishment, just as she could not forget the sticky feeling of his cum on her face, as well as in her mouth, had been shocking and regrettable. But what really humbled the girl deep down was the fact that she had felt constant pleasure in every action of his, even the most vulgar and obscene. The moments before her orgasm replayed in her head, she had longed for it, unable to think of anything else, and god-sometimes even dreamed of it. What was happening to her? It was not normal to react like this, he was her captor and he had punished her, like some kind of rude child, she burned at reliving each moment, this forced her to distance herself even more from the young man.

On the other hand, Jungkook watched her pacing around the house like a soul in pain, and wondered if he had been right to punish her in that way. He saw the distance that, if possible, had increased since that night.

He did not feel good about her in that condition; he wanted to make it up to her, but he did not know how. He swallowed, coming to the conclusion that they had to talk somehow.

He headed to her room with that thought, knocking gently on her door.

He did not like the fact that they were still sleeping apart, but on that Y/N had been adamant. "Y/N? Can we talk for a moment?" he asked, hoping to hear her voice.

Unfortunately, the girl decided to play the silent game once again, Jungkook inhaled, "Y/N, I'm coming in," he warned her, before throwing the door wide open and crossing the threshold of the room. He aimed his gaze at the bed, there where a small bundle was pretending to sleep under the covers. He walked toward that spot, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I shouldn't have treated you that way," he said, regretfully. Yeah, he should never have treated her that way, but between his anger and lust, he had understood nothing more, hadn't masturbated since that time in the old Y/N house, having her that way had sent his self-control to the dogs. "I was angry, and you very indisposed ... I think it was a mix of everything," he whispered, embarrassed, "And you were so beautiful that ... fuck, you really don't know what you do to me," he chuckled unenthusiastically, the girl opened her eyes slightly, remaining well buried. "I'd like to apologize, promising that I won't let anger make me lose my mind anymore, not with you."

Y/N felt a strange grip around her heart; she knew what it was and gritted her teeth. She could not let herself be swayed by the part that still loved him, despite everything he had done to her. She was an incurable romantic in love with her professor, her psychopathic professor who had kidnapped her and declared eternal love for her. He was sick and she could not give in, even though her body, heart, and part of her mind convinced her that he really only wanted her good. She felt a caress on her shoulder; it was a light, quick touch, like the beating of a tiny hummingbird's wings. She said nothing and Jungkook did not dare to add anything else, just left the room in complete and heavy silence. He had failed again.

From then on things were strange, when she got up she would already find breakfast, lunch and dinner still steaming on the table, but no sign of the man. It was strange to eat alone, she was no longer used to solitude, by then it had become the norm to have another human being around the house, ready to look after her at all times. So, unknowingly she began to look for him whenever she could, around the apartment. And always with disappointment, she found that Jungkook was not there. Feeling damn lonely, she began to curse the boy. Hadn't he been the one to tell her that he would never leave her? That he was there for her? Sure, he would not leave her to starve, but Y/N felt hungry for more, it was a deeper, more intimate hunger, one that bound one person to another. A sense of forbidden need that she tried to silence, but could not.

Jungkook was not faring any better, with dark circles to rival a panda's, he threw himself headlong into his work. And he was not behind a desk in that case. He finished just then violently severing a man's carotid artery, blood splattered on his clothes and face, watched with a frown as the man's body trembled and slumped to the ground in mute pain, threw the knife next to the body and shouted angrily inside the warehouse. "You've doubled the load of your work and now you're risking an alarming nervous breakdown, what the hell is wrong with you, 'Kook?" the young man turned sharply toward his friend, Taehyung stared in disgust at the corpse on the ground, "Why are you looking at me like that? Namjoon had said 'clean job,' this looks like a massacre to me." Jungkook grabbed a towel from the cabinet in the corner of the room, dabbing the sweat and blood from his face, "He deserved it, do you know how many girls in our brothel he killed for his disgusting sex games?"

"I know, I analyzed the investigation request Namjoon sent us, but that doesn't take away from the fact that reducing it like this was not in the plans, now how do we pass off the murder of a wealthy Hispanic arms dealer as an accident?" he ironized, Jungkook in response kicked the corpse, as if to emphasize the fact that he couldn't give a damn. "You have piranhas yourself, don't you? Solution found," he tossed his now unusable shirt into a black envelope; he could not go home in that condition, it would definitely break down the precarious relationship that bound him to Y/N. Fortunately there was also a shower in that warehouse, he really could not risk coming back like that, he looked like something out of a splatter movie and the girl did not know his second - and definitely more illegal - job. "Things aren't going well with the girlfriend, huh?" his friend taunted him, earning a dirty look.

"More like they just don't go," he sat wearily on the ground, hiding his head in his arms as he did as a child.

Taehyung immediately regretted mentioning the topic, "Hey, Jungkook...it just takes time, each one has a different way of reacting," he tried to explain, although he could not say he understood it one hundred percent, his girlfriend already loved him before she started a serious relationship with him, he had not experienced the same wars as Seokjin and Jungkook, or worse, Jimin. He recalled with a shudder the girl who was now talking carefree with them, had discovered Jimin's arsenal and had taken the opportunity to stab him on the back and escape. Where Jimin had found the strength to chase and tackle her, Taehyung still could not explain. "It's different Taehyung, I don't have what you call an 'iron fist' with her, if she rejects me I suffer and feel bad, I feel like I'm going crazy." "Then you reject her!" exclaimed the other harshly, "You live together and you are practically the only human she can relate to, if you stop talking to her, paying attention to her or seeing her, she will wonder why, and she will come after you!" He stared at Taehyung with a strange expression, mulling over those words. Perhaps his friend was right, perhaps he had been too helpful and this had been taken as a sign of weakness on the girl's part. He nodded, already knowing what to do.

Y/N heard keys turn in the keyhole and the front door open, she widened her eyes to see that Jungkook had finally come home on time. She had not seen him for days and was beginning to worry. Yes, she was worrying about him. And it was absurd, how unnatural, but it was indeed so. Y/N got up from the couch, that same couch where that painful punishment had been carried out, followed shortly after by the sinful act, and went to meet the boy. She reached him in time to see him take off his jacket, his distraught face leaving her interjected for a moment. "Jungkook!" she said, watching him minutely. His wavy hair was damp and let free to go where it pleased, a thick sweatshirt covered his statuesque physique, and a jumpsuit and boots completed the outfit. For the umpteenth time Y/N actually felt small in front of the man, especially when his gaze fluttered over her briefly, without answering her. He passed her in two strides, locking himself in his room without saying a single word.

This made the girl freeze on the spot, and she did not understand the reason behind his actions. Jungkook had gotten angry a few times, but he was almost always sunny and sweet in her presence; that coldness was something new, something the girl did not want to get used to. She walked slowly in the direction of the boy's bedroom, knocked shyly twice, but received no answer. Her arm fell back along her side, she felt lonely. She felt even more lonely when, at dinner, Jungkook remained with his eyes glued to his smartphone, she swallowed a bitter pill when, trying to engage in a discussion, she asked him, "How are things going at the university? You've been working a lot lately..." and Jungkook replied with a quick shrug. She lost what little appetite she had left, but forced herself to finish, fearfully remembering rule number two, which is to finish her meals like a good girl. She finished her dinner sadly, Jungkook silently picked up the plates and cutlery, putting them to wash in the dishwasher, then without another word he locked himself in his room. He still did everyday things, but with a strange and cold attitude. It went on like this for two weeks, Jungkook always leaving before she woke up, and although present in the house, there seemed to be no one to talk to. Y/N was going crazy.

She wanted Jungkook's attention, she wanted the boy to come back for her, but she did not know how to tell him without making a bad impression. She felt so lonely, and she had to admit it, the boy's love-struck side of herself was bleeding, with moist eyes she continued to watch the television, venting those tears she otherwise would have tried not to shed out of shame. She missed Jungkook. What she did not know was that the situation was generating not one but two victims. Jungkook missed Y/N, he missed her like fresh morning air or like the wind in his hair, everything about Jungkook wanted to push him to give in, to come back to her with a thousand and more kisses to give her and demand for himself, but Taehyung's words were firmly rooted in Jungkook's head. The girl had to understand the importance of having him around, otherwise the dynamics between them would never change. She would continue to see him as a jailer, he as an untouchable girl. It wasn't fair; he wanted a relationship, not a constant tug of war. So he kept coming home later and later, of course leaving her meals to eat, that would never change, but he wanted her to finally decide to run into his arms.

Two days later, Y/N lying in her bed could not get to sleep. Jungkook still had not returned and she wondered what he was doing and who he was with, especially that last question was nagging her. There had to be a valid reason behind his detachment so suddenly, and the thought of another woman had made its way into her mind several times already, the more time passed, the more the thought grew, until it had made it impossible for her to rest well at night for some time now. A strange feeling was roaring in her chest, one she had never felt before, never had a reason to feel it, and now it was disturbing her like few things in the world. Jealousy. Yes, she was rotten jealous. The image of Jungkook kissing or fucking a woman who was not her was corroding her from the inside out. She would have given every pittance to know the truth, but then what would she have done? Would she have survived such pain? She pulled up her nose and only then, in complete silence, did she hear the door open and footsteps make their way through the house.

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #bts yandere smut #yandere bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #yandere #yandere jeongguk #jeongguk x reader #jeon jungkook x reader

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itskattkm · 1 month

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New York New Rules Pt. 8

Warnings: Violence, Trauma, Fluff, maybe Smut, mental health, blood

Summary: Y/N meets the survivors of the last events in Woodsborrow and gets on Ghostface's list. But there is also a darkness in Y/N wich path is she going to choose

Female Y/N x Tara Carpenter

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

A/N: as promised the new chapter. I’m sorry it turned out pretty short. Even tho I have the plot and ending and everything already planned I felt some writers Block at this part of the story. I hope you guys can still enjoy. And I try my best in the next chapter. But I can’t tell when it comes out. Maybe I find some motivation and time over the holidays soon. Love - Kat

Sam POV

I made a last pull on my cigarette before Danny came to me and tried to comfort me. I dropped the cigarette and extinguished it with my boot. "someone took our knives..." I started and played the situation in the kitchen in my head again and again. I had often felt betrayed but that moment... was one of the highlites. "I don't know who to trust" I whispered and Danny gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead "then don't trust anyone. Not them, not me Sam" one last time I looked in his eyes before he left. Now that my view was clear, my eyes fell on Tara and Mindy who were sitting in the back of the ambulance. But they were not alone. Y/N... what was she looking for here? She should be in the hospital. I watched her calmly. Her forearm was still bandaged, just like Taras back then. So of course she could leave the hospital if she wanted to. Mindy reluctantly hugged her and in the way Y/N held Mindy I could see that she probably needed this hug more than Mindy herself. Her eyes were slightly reddish when she wanted to check on Anika but she had been driven ti the hospital already.

"She said anything?" I asked when I noticed Tara next to me and we watched Y/N together. Seriously and with a cool tone, she said "In fact, I texted her about what happened, but she was surprisingly fast here... maybe she came here with Kirby" slowly I turned to Tara and looked at her without emotion when I whispered "there was second ghostface... but he had helped Anika" Tara tried not to show any reaction so that no one would notice it, but her eyes widened "I also saw a second ghostface, I wanted to go back to the apartment and met him. But he didn't seem to care about me and he didn't want to let me into the apartment" what? Thought Sam.

That was new... Mindy was right. In this franchise, everything was damn possible. I bit my teeth slightly and looked back at Y/N "we have to find out what Kirby and Y/N supervision has to do" Tara followed my look and said coldly "I'm working on it" I nodded to her in agreement and looked back to the alley when a crying attracted my attention to me. Bailey.

Y/N a few minutes ago

Slightly out of breath, I reached the crime scene outside. Almost panicked, I searched for the faces of the Woodsborrow Gang and was more than relieved when I saw Tara and Mindy in the ambulance. With quick steps I ran towards her, few tears in the eyes "hey..." I said quietly.

Tara's gaze hit mine first. She was surprised almost beaten in the face when I pushed all thoughts and feelings aside and took her firmly in my arms. To my surprise, she replied, but only hesitantly. "I just had to come here," I said and detached myself from Tara. We briefly exchanged glances that I could not interpret at that moment that all I could feel and perceive right now was a mixture of worry and deafness. I looked at Mindy and took a step towards her. Silence... we stared at each other longer. Nobody knew what to say. One thing was clear, I was still mad at Mindy... the last few days she hadn’t been a good friend to me but I didn't care right now. On the other hand, Mindy probably only thought again about whether she could trust me.

She sighed as she got up and squeezed me tight. With all the strength I had, I put my arms firmly around her. I had forgotten how good a hug could feel. "How is Anika..?" I asked and managed to hold back my tears. Our embrace easily dissolved when we looked at each other calmly. Mindy's look was now much gentler and friendlier again. The last few hours I only got cold, skeptical and reproachful glances from her.

"They just left, she lost a lot of blood" I nodded "we should go back to the hospital right away" she nodded to me silently and said after a short rest "I'm sorry... I was quite a bitch" I had to laugh "yes and what a one!" With a raised eyebrow she looked at me "but I can totally understand you minds... believe me" now she had to laugh a little and squeezed me again.

And then I felt Mindy squeeze me tighter. It kinda showed me that she was suddenly mega pissed on and shortly afterwards I also knew why.

"I heard what happened, are you okay?" I heard a way too nice voice say. Mindy and I dissolved our hug and I turned around. When my and Ethan's eyes met, I recognized slight confusion in them, but before he could further reveal his reaction, Chad already pushed him furiously against one of the vans on the street and asked "where the hell have you been!"

I turned around. Lost in my mind. I looked down on the asphalt.

Why did Ethan look so surprised. I had to admit that only his eyes had betrayed him. But what did that mean? Didn't he expect me? My thoughts became wilder. Pictures of all events played out like a quick movie in my head when I tried to understand.

Ethan hasn't been at the hospital.

Maybe he was the one who attacked me? I wasn’t sure. But I had a bad feeling about that guy.

"Y/N... your coming?" A voice got me out of my thoughts. I looked up and looked into dark exhausted eyes. But there was so much more. So much more and I couldn't see it exactly.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

Tara was about to say something when suddenly Gale interrupted us saying

"I need to show you guys something".

So in the next moments I saw us following Gale, while she kept discussing with Kirby how to do to a proper job and telling Kirby how she didn't new about the place she wanted to show us. I was staying beside Kirby. Tara and Sam behind me. While Mindy and Chad where also right behind us with Ethan and the rest.

#jenna ortega #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #vada cavell #wednesday #fanfiction #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #scream

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tarotmundomonde · 1 month

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The person on your mind March 2024

love reading (feelings & actions)

Let me know, if it resonates and what you think about this type of a reading!

pick a number 1-5 OR an emoji 💟 🐳 🦚 🕸️ 📒

(ps. this reading is for practice and for fun)

1.💟 Okay, gotta be honest with this pile. At first, when I did the reading step by step, it seemed like overall you are dealing with someone, who does have some feelings for you, but whom to someone else is coming first. Therefore it looked like this person was keeping you as a back-up plan and ghosts you rather than directly rejects you. However, once I pulled all the cards to the table, something was off. So that interpretation might be true to someone. However, after taking a second look at your spread, it seemed to be your narrative about the situation, not the actual truth. Like you think that the reason why someone is not talking to you is, because they are in love with someone else and that it's the obvious. That it's time for you to accept that, you think this story is over and it's time to release it. However, this narrative of yours is not theirs. Looking at the cards, the connection is on pause at the moment, dormant, but the light is not gone. The connection is very much alive, it's simply on time out. This person sees you and you see them. And this person adores you. But it looks like things are lost in translation, you've misunderstood each other. You started writing different stories and chapters on your connection. You think they are taken? They think you are taken. So this person has taken distance from this connection, perhaps trying to release it. But your connection has a really strong heartbeat to it, no kidding. And whatever happens, there is a new beginning on the horizon. Your person has feelings for you, but they feel that they cannot tell you about them. It pains them, the feeling that they can't talk to you nor express their feelings to you. And as the month of March goes by, it really looks like they are madly in love with you. And it hurts that they can't just grab you into their arms and kiss you like there is no tomorrow. Again, they feel they can't tell you. As for their actions, it does look like rejection for sure. It's like they refuse to communicate with you, to talk to you. But the thing is that what they are trying to say is that they have dignity. And they are trying to get their sh*t together and you should, too. But in no way the cards are implying them ending things with you successfully. It looks like they want to make a point by putting the connection on hold. Like they are saying, if you want them, then it's only you and them. Kinda like by putting your connection on pause, they want you to realize that they are the one you have a heart-based connection with. Because this person is very aware that there is something deeper there between you two, so they are waiting. They've made up their mind and they will not budge.

2.🐳 Looking at the cards, it looks like you are in the middle of some kind of healing process. This person could actually be a distraction. Maybe they tried to use you for healing, but it doesn't look like you are supposed to know that. Online interaction could be emphasized in this connection. But it feels like this connection is perhaps short-lived or has some frustrating aspects to it, some repetitive pattens to it. There is definitely active spying going on here and mind games. But the attraction is real. This person could be quite attractive. So you two can't help but be curious about each other, but there is also dissatisfaction and isolation. And a sense of comparison. This person compares you to others and things. Currently, it looks like their feelings are more on the friendzone side towards you. They might have experienced you as a third-party that they are working on releasing. Like they are detaching themselves from you. But still, they kinda want to be there, they want to be friendly towards you. And as the month of March goes by, they could feel a little sorry, like they can't help but disappoint you. It's like they are saying that it's a pity, but now they have to fully prioritize another connection. It's like in their heart they want to tell you that they simply cannot be with you, they can't give you love or a relationship. Maybe friends could be possible, but nothing more. As for their actions, it's very passive. It looks like a break-up. But they are still there. It's kinda like you can see them happy with someone else. But oddly, it's like this person is expecting you to wait on them and they are expecting to see you try connect with them. Their attitude is that either way they will be happy and the one doing great. So it does seem that you two are still "connected", but perhaps for some healing reasons, like you are learning a lesson. They are bringing you some sort of drama and challenges to you. This person truly feels in their power and they seem to know the power of their attraction, so they are literally swimming in it. And it seems their presence is supposed to activate you to find your power, like you are meant to experience empowerment. So that's what is coming through for you in this reading.

3.🦚 Looking at the cards, this looks like a genuinely romantic connection with a lot of physical chemistry and a spiritual connection. This could also be a rather new connection. But even if not, definitely there is a feeling of trying to solidify the connection, a sense of wanting to protect it and to make it grow. Perhaps you are looking forward to taking the next step in this connection, for example a first kiss. But there are obstacles here. Whether it's distance or some sort of illusion and confusion you are dealing with. This person feels like they get and can get so much from you. But in their heart, they also feel like this connection could have a future. They feel like they want to be your companion in life and have you as their companion. And as the month of March goes by, it looks like they really want to speak about something with you but don't want to be the first one to bring it up. So instead, they are trying to stay as patient as they can and just wait. As for their actions, it seems to match with their feelings for you. They seem to take a more strategic approach towards you. Trying to figure out your next moves and to see, how they should play their cards with you. This person wants to be seen by you, they want to shine, they want your full attention. There will be focus on communication, on socializing with you, whether it's hanging out, going on dates or just texting/calling. But this person definitely graves to have intimacy with you. However, they want to feel special, they want to feel worthy. So it seems they might be seeking validation from you or some proofs that they are important to you. Like the fun and intimacy is not enough, they want to feel irreplaceable. So things will not move that smoothly forward this month. This person wants you to know the unsaid, to read between the lines. Like they refuse to say or ask, what they want to hear and know from you. So in the end, it's like they are waiting on you, waiting for you to realize something and to bring it up. This could be also simply them saying pick me to you.

4.🕸️ Looking at the cards, someone in this connection is all about the self-interest. They are in it for the benefits. It looks like someone here is looking for the right moment to make a move. Something about commitment or making a proposal. Also, delusion. Oh wow, so there is another woman, who entered the picture and she is like a wild fire in their heart. If they ever had any feelings for you, they are all gone. And as the month of March goes by, it looks like just like the wild fire came in, it's gone. Suddenly, it's over and they are in their blues. And that's when in their heart they feel like coming back to you feels right. Because they feel like you would welcome them back and that in your arms they would heal and feel safe and better. They seem to feel like you are a safe space, homey and comfortable and familiar. As for their actions, this person is extremely self-confident, whether it shows or not. They are certain you've been waiting for them. So it seems they plan to simply re-appear, as if nothing ever happened. And they'll come to get what they need from you. This person is more perseverant than you'd think and they know they are 100% sure that if they just wait, triumph is theirs. This person is like they know you don't want to be without them and that their presence is important to you and they know you want to see them. So it seems like they might try to come in and offer some kind of a more firm foundation to you. But remember, it's all about their self-interest, about what's in it for them. And this person believes you are obsessed with them and that's where their confidence about you stems from.

5.📒 Looking at the cards, maybe one of you or both are students or there is emphasis on studies or work. Something seems to be hindering the connection this month. Perhaps some limitations and complications, for example time constraints or business trips or being at a distance, etc. Otherwise, it seems the connection in itself is quite healthy and prospering. Indeed, it looks like your person doesn't have time for love. They seem to be so preoccupied with other things. They feel a bit conflicted towards you, because they feel like they don't have the time to see you nor talk to you. Yet, they want to do well with you but they can't. So, it's difficult for them. And as the month of March goes by, this person really wants to approach you but feels a little intimidated. They want to learn more about you, they want to get to know you better. But they may feel like they need some encouragement from your side. As for their actions, this person really wants to be honest with you. They seem to have some concerns and fears, perhaps they feel a little trapped. But they would like you to take the lead and that you show them actively attention. This person really wants your attention and support. It feels like they do want to give you hope so that you wouldn't stop being into them and wouldn't stop showing them interest. This person does want to see your connection develop further. So this could be a bit of a test from their side towards you as well. To see, how much you truly are into them. And if the conclusion is they are sure about you, then it seems they do want to take the next step towards you.

#tarot #tarot reading #pac reading #pick a card reading #pick a pile #daily tarot #tarot community

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nanaminokanojo · 5 days

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THAWING ICE QUEEN (part 109)

–one night of fooling around with the annoying campus king gojo satoru (he thinks so), turns into...well, something else more long term

CHARACTERS: gojo satoru x you | geto suguru | jjk characters

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 109 next>>

A/N: Contains prose. | cw: family angst and i didn't proofread yet so...

Deep breaths. You took them one at a time, hand hesitating on the doorbell. With each one, you composed yourself, calming the erratic beating of your heart and the way your hands trembled. Satoru was watching you, and after assuring him that you will be alright, you didn't want him to doubt that. Quelling your hesitation, you finally pressed the doorbell, turning slightly to wave haphazardly at your boyfriend who stood by the open door of the driver's side of his car. He waved back with an encouraging smile, and just then, the door opened.

"Miss L/N," your father's secretary greeted you with a bow, then his eyes strayed to Satoru. "Mr. Gojo can stay in the drawing room while you speak to your father."

You nodded, wondering if your dad finally decided on a change of tune or if it was yet another trick up his sleeves. Eyeing the man in earnest – both a plea and a threat – you said, "You may go ahead and ask him if he wishes to come in. If not, don't press it."

The response you got was a succinct nod and the secretary was opening the door wider for you, only leaving to go towards Satoru when you were already inside the house. Without waiting for the outcome of the ensuing conversation, you found your way to your father's study where he will most likely be.

How did it ever get to this? You couldn't help but think about all of the events that culminated to that single moment when you found yourself standing on the opposite side of the line from your father. The two of you had become as good as strangers, foes even, and you thought back on what you could have done to deserve the way he treated you for the better of your younger years to the present.

Then, at the back of your mind, you heard Sukuna's words to you, telling you that you were never at fault. Did you capitalize too much on that? Have you been a disappointment all along? At the end of the day, he was still your father, and maybe he had the right to decide on your life, you acknowledged that, but to what extent was it reasonable, fault or not?

The heavy oak doors stood before you. Several memories came to mind as you stood there, from how you would sneak in as a child, curious about all the things you saw inside the place that served as his refuge, particularly a glass paperweight that you marveled about. You later learned your mother gave it to him. After your mother died, you remembered his quiet sobs as you stood outside the door, and from there, the distance grew.

"Come in," you heard him from the other side of the door, and you did as you were told, slowly but deliberately opening and closing the door behind you. You remained standing there, the distance, ever growing between you, becoming even more palpable with each second that passed. After what happened, you didn't think you should be acting all familiar by taking a seat and invading his personal space. Despite it all, you still held respect for him, if not as a parent, then as a person.

He sighed, looking up from the papers he was signing. He motioned towards one of the couches, silently telling you to sit. He looked tired, older, but the sharpness of those eyes didn't dull in the least, observant as always. You admired the intelligence that shone in his eyes, what you detested was the cool detachment that came with it as if it would kill him to show warmth even just a little.

Acceding, you made your way to the seat he indicated, placing the file you were holding on the center table. It might have been a trivial gesture, but in your heart, it was a way to show you still considered an alternative to permanently cutting ties with him.

"I heard Gojo Satoru came with you," he began, somehow managing to look both smug and irritated at the thought. He chuckled. "I have to hand it to him. He knows how to play his cards well. Perhaps the board of directors at Gojo Group should watch their backs. Even I wasn't expecting that."

You merely nodded.

"He loves you, I can see that."

You smiled ever so slightly at that. "I don't doubt it. He doesn't exactly like working, much less taking over a company."

He put his pen down, standing up to his full height. Your father is an impressive man, commanding and confident. You've seen him in court, too, and he is a formidable force in his industry. You aspired to be like him no matter how many times you denied ever wanting to have anything to do with him and turning out to be like him.

He stood there, silently observing you while you just looked down at the table, unable to meet his gaze, but unable to endure it, you said, "I kept my end of our deal."

"I know that. Your friends –"

"– aren't the useless bunch you thought I run with –"

"And they'll protect you with everything they've got even if it means going against me," he supplied. "I know that now, Y/N."

"Merely knowing doesn't change a thing." You finally met his eyes, the animosity seeming to dissipate as you strengthened your resolve to decide without his influence, and just consider how you felt for once.

"But it does." He walked towards the shelf, fetching the decanter of his favorite whiskey, silently offering some to you but you declined, shaking your head. "What do you mean?"

"I see a great deal of myself in Gojo Satoru." At that, he smirked as if he was reliving a bittersweet memory. "I know that look of determination, that profound urge to protect you just to keep you by his side by all means regardless of who he has to go against.

I recognized that look on his face when he looked at you with so much longing when we met him at your university; the triumph and affection when he pulled you to his side along with the war he waged against me for making you unhappy..."

"That one thinks he'll win in anything."

"So did I, and that's all I've ever done." He shrugged. "I do not discount the fact that he has the means to do whatever he wanted, but what's so profound about it is his drive and single-mindedness to have you

I don't know if your aunt told you, but your grandfather hated me enough to want to kill me." He scoffed but it was without its usual edge. "Gangsters."

That was a surprise. "Grandpa seems to like you," you countered, sure that memory serves you right. You didn't hate your dad because old man Itadori asked you to understand him more. You didn't say that out loud.

Your dad shook his head. "Not always. He always threatened me every chance he got. Behind your mom's back, of course. He acted all nicely when he knows she's around.

I had to fight tooth and nail to gain his approval, perhaps even his affection. He didn't like me even when your mother already decided to marry me, even when she was pregnant with you."

"What changed?"

He smiled at you then, and you could see just why your mom fell for him. "You were born." He sat down across you, legs crossing as he took a sip from his drink. "And you're her spitting image, Itadori Wasuke's favorite daughter. You should have seen the look on his face when he first saw you. He looked at me as if I gave him the greatest gift in the world."

The thought of it hurt you even more, causing you to stand enraged. What was the point of telling you? Everyone else in your family showed you just how important you are to them, it didn't have to come from him. He didn't have any right. "But you hate me," you lashed out, tears falling from your eyes.

"No, honey, I don't –"

"Yes, you do! I know mom died because she got sick after giving birth to me. And you blamed me for it enough to send me away! You don't even want to see me. You think I didn't hear your conversations with Aunt? The way you treat my cousins as if they're dirt under your shoes? And then what? You suddenly decided you wanna be my dad? Make that make sense!"

You were shaking from all the yelling you did, but oddly enough, it felt cathartic, your pain ebbing away with each word you uttered. It made you realize you still held him dear to you in spite of the anger; that you still craved his attention, affection and approval. Because in your heart of hearts, he is still your only family and it hurt you that he didn't want you.

"I don't hate you and neither do I harbor the same emotion for your aunt and your cousins, especially Sukuna," he stated, reaching out to you to placate you, pulling you into his arms except you refused. Still, he held you tight, soothing your back. "What have I done to you?"

"You hate me," you whispered through sobs.

"Forgive me. I loved your mother so much that I couldn't bear the thought of destroying you, too, in the process of me falling apart. I didn't give you away. I thought...I thought you'd be better off with people who can give you all the love you deserved, but I ended up doing just that.

Forgive me for not having the courage to look you and your cousins in the eye because you all have so much of your mom in all of you, and instead of reveling in it, it only reminded me of my loss."

"You weren't the only one who lost her."

"I know. I see it now." He breathed in deeply. "Forgive me for my groundless fear when I learned you were seeing Satoru, thinking so much ahead of myself, afraid you will end up like your mom and that I'll lose you, too. I'm so sorry. I'm a shitty father, I know that."

You scoffed, looking at him. "You were."

"I don't hate you, Y/N. You're all that I've left of your mother. How can I?" Tears shone in his eyes, but he tried his best not to cry, but the agony showed in his eyes, a spark of tje warmth you've always craved for finally there for you to see. He sighed. "You don't have to go if you don't want to."

"I don't..." You calmed down a tad, your sobs reducing to sniffles, suddenly preoccupied about what he said about Satoru. "What about Satoru? Why did you bother enough to do..." You stepped back, a little exasperated. "...all of this..."

For the first time, your dad looked ashamed of himself. "I guess I was going through every father's nightmare. I understood your grandfather when Sukuna said you were different around Satoru."

"I didn't realize that either until you showed up in Hokkaido." You shivered inwardly at the way you treated Satoru back then upon reflecting on them. "You don't like him."

He flashed you a rueful smile, but that dissipated into annoyance. "I did a background check on him. He's a playboy and I only had Sukuna's words to vouch for him where your wellbeing was concerned."

You couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up in your throat. "I'm not proud of it, but if you should know, I was the asshole in our relationship."

He frowned, both at your choice of words and the thought of you being the bad guy. "That doesn't sound right."

"But it's true. I put him through too much."

"Do you love him?"

You nodded, motioning to pick up the document you brought with you. "Enough to fight you in court for absolute emancipation, Atty. L/N." You waved the file in front of you. "Glad we didn't have to go there."

Your father regarded the file with sorrow in his eyes and finally, his tears fell. "You're so much like your mother."

You shook your head. "No, dad. I'm a lot more like you." You shrugged, tossing the file back on the table, composing yourself despite the emotions overflowing in you, and your dad did the same. You got your emotional constipation for him for sure. Your mom had too big of a heart not to show affection, or so you remembered.

"So...Gojo Satoru..."

"Yes."

He scrunched his nose. "You couldn't have fallen for Nanami Kento instead?"

"Dad!" You snickered. "Ken is a very good friend. He's a bit scary though. Very much like a father."

"I wouldn't have disapproved of him."

"Satoru isn't bad at all."

"He's too pretty for a boy."

"I know right?" You flashed him a worried look. "Can I please introduce him to you formally now?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No. Be nice."

"Fine. As long as he doesn't call me father-in-law just yet."

You fell into easy laughter, finally having the kind of conversation you wish you've always had with him. And it felt good even if you missed all those years you should have spent that way with him. There's more to look forward to.

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nottapossum · 2 months

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Itty Bitty Sinners Chapter 1.7: Brain and Heart

Tw: Blood, violence (mentioned)

Suppressing feelings, stealing, threatening, plenty of cursing, blackmail, lying to a loved one, keeping secrets, lmk If I should add.

'Help me when I'm too detached and cold

Give me the vitality that I need to trust love more

Blood to the water, neither can fuel us alone

Fervency in my arteries, passion bloomin' through my bones

Heartstrings trigger emotion streams

Agape loves a journey, red rivers connect all of me

But, but be it steadfast, don't you disappoint me

Sometimes I think you're all I need, wise beyond belief.'

~Melanie Martinez, Brain & Heart.

~~~Charlie and Vaggie:The next day~~~

Charlie woke up that day feeling sorta…

Out of it.

Like there was a weight on her chest that couldn't be lifted.

Caring for Vaggie almost always made her feel joyous and inspired, but today?

Today she was worried! Why was Vaggie so hesitant to regress? Why was she repressing?

Was she abandoning her precious baby girl? Why was she talking like she was unimportant?

Nope, this will not do! She had to talk to her girlfriend! And she will not rest until she does!

So, Charlie told everyone that there would be no exercises today, but encouraged them to hang out and talk amongst each other.

She then asked Vaggie to meet her in their room so they can talk.

"Charlie, what's going on?" Vaggie asks. "We had a whole thing planned today." She says as they enter their bedroom.

"We'll do it tomorrow." Charlie promises. "But, for today. I think maybe it would be best to spend some time together, just you and me."

"Why? Are you feeling little?" Vaggie asks, concerned for Charlie.

Charlie shakes her head. "No, I'm just worried about you. You've been repressing, worrying about me, and yesterday you said that you felt like you were in my way.” She explains. “I can't just ignore that.”

Vaggie looked away from her. "Yeah, you can." She mumbles.

“Vaggie?” Charlie asks.

Vaggie sighs. “It's nothing, okay? I just know how busy you've gotten lately.” She lies. "I didn't want to add something to your plate, that's all."

Charlie frowns, she sits down on the bed and takes Vaggie's hand. “Vaggie, you know you're very important to me, right?” She asks.

Vaggie nods. “Yeah, I know.”

“More important than anyone or anything.” Charlie says. “You're never in the way, ever. I don't understand why you'd think you are. You're my girlfriend. And I love you so much."

And she does, sometimes so much it hurt.

She's loved so many people...

But none like Vaggie.

Vaggie was her world, her everything.

She needed Vaggie to know that she was loved.

Vaggie squeezes Charlie’s hand, then looks up at her…

She wished she could pour her heart to Charlie, tell her the truth…

Why she wasn't as important as the sinners,

Why her feelings were invalid,

Why she didn't...deserve any of the wonderful things Charlie gave her.

But, Charlie can't know about it, any of it.

It'll break her to know.

Vaggie forces a smile. “I know, babe. I love you too. It's just that- I just-”

Charlie looks at her with the most patience she has ever seen, from anyone.

“I don't want you to worry about me.” Vaggie says. “They're actually more important than me right now. You have this deadline. You have to prove redemption works. How can you do that if you're so focused on me?” Vaggie asks.

Charlie takes Vaggie's face in her hands next and looks at her closely. “No one, I repeat, No One is more important than you are to me. Not Pentious, not Angel, not Alastor, No one.” She says. “You are not just my girlfriend, but you are my whole world, Vaggie. No one could ever mean more to me than you. If redemption works, we'll prove it together. But not at the expense of your mental well-being. Do you understand me?” She asks.

Vaggie nods.

“Good. So, no more repressing?" Charlie asks.

Vaggie nods. "No more repressing."

"Good." Charlie hugs her.

And Vaggie holds her closely. "Charlie?"

"Yeah?"

Vaggie frowns again.

She shouldn't be so important. She's hurt thousands of sinners…

“What is it?” Charlie asks her again.

“I'm sorry.” Vaggie says. “I didn't mean to worry you.” A tear falls down Vaggie's face.

“I know, it's okay.” Charlie says. "I'm not upset with you." She promises.

Vaggie let Charlie go, and she paces the room. “I just- I know how important this is, not just to you, but it's important to me. I feel like everything is always at risk, all the time. Like I could lose you in a second and-!"

Charlie interupts her by taking her hand.

Vaggie's hands are shaking. "I don't want to lose you.” Vaggie says, tears finally falling, the dam that protected her from expressing all of this... it wasn’t strong enough. “I worry about what all of this will bring sometimes.”

“You won't lose me.” Charlie promises. “Whatever happens, we'll figure it out together."

Vaggie nods. “Yeah, I know. It's just hard.”

“I know what you mean.” Charlie says, frowning now too. “But, I promise we'll be okay.”

Vaggie wraps her arms around Charlie again, she just wanted to feel safe, like heaven and hell didn't exist anymore. Like it could all go away, and it can just be her and Charlie.

“But-” Charlie starts to say.

Vaggie looks up at her, seeing that Charlie was smiling, but something was wrong...

Or just- upsetting.

“If you get redeemed… that wouldn't be a bad way for this to end.” Charlie says.

“Charlie, no-”

“I'm only saying! You deserve better than this hell you've been forced to endure. I know you have this thing, I know you want to protect me, but what I want is to give you paradise.” She says.

Vaggie sighs, and grabs Charlie's shoulders. “Fuck heaven, Charlie! I don't want heaven, I only want you. You ARE my paradise!”

“And you are mine.” Charlie smiles, hugging her back tightly as a tear falls down her face.

Charlie hugged her beloved again, she wanted to hold Vaggie forever and never let her go.

But-

It would be selfish to keep Vaggie here…

Even if she is everything Charlie ever wanted, ever needed.

She can't keep her forever…can she?

~~~The Hazbins:~~~

Angel needed a plan...

He can't let Alastor tell the others about his regression; it would ruin everything he has accomplished.

He felt like he could actually be friends with these weirdos. Like they could take him seriously.

How can they possibly take him seriously if they know the truth about him?

Wasn't it bad enough that he's treated like less than human at work?

Wasn't it bad enough that he was the slut of the group?

The idiot who sold his soul to a moth?

No, he can't let this happen, he had to think of a way to stop that mother-

"Hey." Husk says to Angel as he reaches the end of the stairs.

"Hey." Angel smiles back, walking over to the bar where Husk was working. "How you doin?"

Husk smiles. "No new complaints from me." He says. "And you?"

Angel shrugs. "I don't know...I never really do."

Husk nods, and sighs exasperatingly. "Yeah."

Angel sits at the counter...still wondering what the fuck he was gonna do...Alastor is-

Then he perks up...

Husk! Of course.

"Uh- hey, Husk?"

Husk's ears perk up as he looks at him.

"Just- between us. What's Al's deal?” Angel asks.

“His deal?” Husk asks back.

“Is he a little? Is he some type of pet? I need something on him.” Angel says.

“Why?” Husk asks. "Did something happen between you two?"

“No! I- I just need something, okay? I'll take anything weird and personal.” Angel says.

“Do you have any idea what Al would do to me if he found out I gave you that kind of information?” Husk asks.

“I won't tell him where I got it.” Angel says.

"Do you have any idea what he could do to you?" Husk asks.

"I ain't afraid of him." Angel says. "Come on, I know you have something."

“Nice try.” Husk says. “Now, what's really going on?” Husk asks.

Angel looks down. “Well, I-”

“Hello!” A voice says behind them.

They both turn to look at their snake-like friend.

Angel smiles. “Hi Pen.”

“Hey.” Husk says to the snake.

"What are you two up to?" Pentious asks.

"Just talking." Husk says.

"Ooo what about?" Pen asks.

"Nothin. Really." Angel gives Husk a look, maybe of disappointment? Or anger? Husk wasn't sure. But he didn't exactly appreciate it, so he gave him a quick look back.

Angel was just like this sometimes...it wasn't anything serious...

Was it?

Vaggie walked downstairs next, walking toward the kitchen before Pentious turns and smiles at her. “Vaggie!"

Vaggie stops and smiles. "Oh, Pen. Hi."

"Um, how are you feeling?” Pentious asks.

“I'm good.” Vaggie smiles at him, rubbing her arm anxiously. "Thanks." She says.

"Of course." Pentious says.

"And- are you doing okay?" Vaggie asks back.

"I'm fine, actually, better than I've felt in a long time." Pentious says.

"I'm glad to hear it." Vaggie says. "I have to go, but I'll talk to you later." She says.

The two smile at each other, and Vaggie walks away, and moves towards the kitchen.

Pentious then turns back to Husk and Angel who stared at him with confusion. “What?”

“Since when are you two so...close?” Angel asks.

“Oh, we're not!” Pentious says. “We just chatted a bit yesterday and as it turns out, we have a lot in common. I believe we could start a friendship.” He says.

“Huh.” Angel shrugs. “Good for you. I guess."

“There's nothing weird about it!" Pentious says defensively.

"Okay?" Angel says, eyebrow raised.

"We didn't- I mean, it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. We were simply talking. Nothing else!" Pentious says.

Angel rolls his eyes. "Pen, let me make this easier for you. We. Don't. Care." Angel says slowly. "In fact, we couldn't care less about- whatever that was."

"Oh, that- that is easier. Thank you."

"Don't mention it." Angel says.

"You ready, boss?" A small egg creature asks, appearing out of nowhere.

"Anywho, I'm taking my eggbois to the park, cheerio." Pentious says.

They watch as Pentious and his eggbois leave the hotel, then Husk and Angel turn back to one another.

Husk grabbed something from under the counter. “So, what were you saying?” He asks.

Angel looks up and sighs. “Forget it, I'll figure this out myself.” He says before walking back upstairs.

“What's his deal?” Husk asks out loud, to no one really.

“Oh, don't worry about Angel, Husker. He's just a little…sensitive right now.”

Alastor...

Husk looks behind him, and then the radio demon shadows his way to one of the seats at the bar. (Or however someone would describe what Alastor does.)

"What did you do to Angel?"

"Nothing." Alastor says.

"I don't believe you." Husk says. "He seemed upset and you seem to be the cause of it. Listen, I don't care what you do to me, but leave him alone."

"Relax, Husker. I have no ill intentions." Alastor promises.

Husk raised up an eyebrow. "Good, because you wouldn't want me to call YOUR caregiver, would you?"

Alastor stops and turns to Husk, a smile still on his face, but his eyes are threatening. “What was that?” He asks

Husk crosses his arms, but takes a step back. Yes, he's scared of Alastor, but he cares about Angel more.

"Like I said, I don't care what you do to me, but leave Angel alone." Husk tells him.

Alastor chuckles. "Oh, Husker. You are a funny one.” He pets Husk's fur and lightly touches his nose. “Don't be alarmed, dear. I have no intention of hurting your… little spider friend."

Alastor dissappears in his shadow, his grin wider than ever.

Husk sighs in relief. He was sure that wasn't going to work out in his favor.

But he's alive...he'll take that as a win for now.

~~~The V's:~~~

Velvette had fallen asleep on Vox's chest but woke up snuggled up with only her doll.

She looked around and couldn't find her caregiver.

“Voc?” Velvette asks. “Voooooc!” A small voice shouts.

Velvette whines, where is he!?

“Velvette, what are you doing?” Valentino asks, having heard her shouting from the next room.

“Voc gone!” Velvette says. “Can no fin him!”

“Vox is downstairs, Princessa.” Val says. "Here, let's fix your hair for today then join him for breakfast." Val says.

"No!" Velvette whines. "Nee' see Voc now!" She demands.

"Velvette, can I please help you with your hair first?" He asks, his eyes are horrible but he can see how messy her beautiful curles were.

"Mtay." She reluctantly agrees. "Den we get Voc!" She says.

"Deal." Val says.

He takes her to the bathroom to help her with her hair for the day, putting it up with two buns. "Okay, I think that's good for now."

“Nee’ Voc! Now!” She demands.

Valentino rolls his eyes but nods. "Okay, sassy girl. We can go see Vox now."

"Not sassy." She mumbles.

"Whatever you say." Val chuckles.

Velvette tugs on Val's wings.

Valentino looks at her confused. "Yes?"

"Up!" Velvette demanded.

"Now, what's the magic word?" Valentino asks. Vox may tolerate her demanding nature, but he surely wouldn't.

"P'ease?" Velvette whines.

"Alright, babydoll." Valentino chuckles, picking her up and walking to the kitchen.

~~~

Valentino hands Velvette over to Vox without warning. "This is yours." He says.

“Hey-” Vox quickly tries to carry her with one arm since he currently had coffee in the other. "What the hell, Val?" Vox asks, setting his coffee on the counter.

"She wanted you." Valentino shrugs, getting out the milk and orange juice and placing them on the table.

Except what he put on the table was ice tea and lemonade.

Vox set Velvette down on a chair and switched out the beverages to the correct ones.

Velvette felt sad when she was set down...she wanted her caregiver. "Voc?" She asks.

Vox sits next to her and smiles. "Yes, Velvette, what is it?"

Kitty (their fizzy robot) served them pancakes and bacon with a huge smile on her face.

Velvette's eyes fill with tears, the dam was damaged and there was no going back. She just wanted Vox now, she wanted to be held and to be told everything was going to be okay.

She reaches for Vox as she cries quietly. "Voc."

Vox picks her up and sets her on his lap. “Hey, hey, hold on, sweetheart. What's going on?" Vox asks. "What happened?"

“She- she was mad at me.” Velvette says, "Das why I set." She says.

Vox looks at Val who looks just as confused. “Who was mad at you, babydoll?” Val asks.

“Cawmilla.” Velvette mumbles.

“Carmilla?” Vox asks her.

“She was mean to me at da mee'ing.” She says. “She yelleded and saids mean fings to me, member?” Velvette asks them.

“That's what this was about?” Vox asks. "Carmilla rejecting your idea at the meeting?"

Velvette nods.

Velvette did mention something about Zestial and Carmilla not taking her suggestion of defending themselves against the angels seriously, but she didn't seem that upset about it, merely annoyed with the older than dust overlords.

“Ohh, so we're killing Carmilla then?” Val asks. “We're going to go kill a bitch? I'm up for that.” He says, getting up and heading for his tower to get his newly bedazzled gun.

“Stop.” Vox grabs Valentino's wings and pulls him back. “We're not killing Carmilla, Val.”

“Pretty sure we are, she made Velvette cry.” Valentino says.

“We will talk about this later, just sit down.” Vox demanded.

Valentino does, crossing his arms. “You're no fun.” He pouts.

“That's what made you so upset, Vel? That happened a few weeks ago. Were you suppressing all of this the whole time?” He asks.

Velvette looks away from Vox, nor wanting to answer that question...

“I'm not mad, I just want to know.” Vox tells her.

“Yes, you're not in any trouble, Princessa.” Val adds.

Velvette sniffles. “I’ wa’ tupid.” Vel says.

“It's not stupid if it upsets you, Velbelle.” Vox says.

Velvette's tears pour faster, so she tries to dry them with her sleeves.

Vox turns to Val and gestures for him to grab the diaper bag that was left in the livingroom.

Val rolled his eyes, but did grab it and hand it to Vox.

“Vel, I'm sorry she was mean to you.” Vox says, grabbing a baby wipe from the bag to clean her face. “Carmilla is just jealous because you're a hundred percent smarter than she is, and she knows it. Old people don't like when young people know more than them.”

“No one wisten to me. Never!” She complains. “Bu’ I do good.” She pouts.

“I know, it sucks. Carmilla's a bitch.” Vox says. “I'm sorry I can't fix this for you, babydoll. If I could I would-”

“You could…” Val hints to him.

“Val, if you even try to touch her, she'll kill you…twice.” Vox explains.

“Hmm. What if I just make one of her kids cry?” Valentino suggests. “It would make me feel better.”

“She'll probably kill you three times if you attempted that.” Vox says. “If you're lucky.”

“Ugh, you never let me kill anyone!” Val whines.

Vox rolls his eyes, but Velvette giggles. “Vaw funny.” She says.

“Yeah, he's funny alright.” Vox agrees with a hint of sarcasm to his tone.

Velvette snuggles closer to Vox.

“You feeling a bit better?” Vox asks her.

Velvette nods. “Yea, a bit be'ah.”

And she was, she's just glad she can finally relax. And she was glad Vox was here to help her relax.

“It's okay to talk about your feelings, Velvette.” Vox promises. “I know it's been hard for you in the past, but you're safe now. We're not going to make you feel bad for having them. I'd rather you get upset than to see you break down because you pushed all those big feelings down. Okay?”

Velvette nods. “M'tay, Voc.” She says.

Vox holds Velvette close and rocks her gently. “I'm very proud of you for talking to us, Vel. You did so good.” He praised.

"You really did, darling." Valentino agrees.

Velvette smiles and hides her face in Vox’s shoulder. She's happy that they feel that way, but she doesn't know how to take what they said, so she just hides.

Vox and Val smile at each other.

Vox just holds her for a bit.

He never wanted to let her go.

He hated to see Velvette so upset.

"How about we all take the day off?" Vox suggests. "We can relax, play some games...?"

"Yeah!" Velvette giggles excitedly. "We cu' pway wif dolls! Day can has a fashn' show!"

"Sounds good to me." Valentino says.

"Me too." Vox agrees. "After breakfast, we can play with dolls as long as you want." He promises. “Sound good?”

“Yeah!” She giggles happily.

She loves little days!

~~~Angel: That night~~~

Angel needed something on Al.

He didn't want to do anything crazy...he just needed some blackmail in case Alastor tried something.

So, of course, Angel walked downstairs and snuck into Charlie’s office.

He looks through her desk to try and find the results to that stupid test, she had to have them in here somewhere.

Where would Charlie hide them?

He checks the drawers of her desk and has no luck. But then he sees the filing cabinet.

He looks through it and finds the file with the test results. "Gotcha." He whispers, as he turns to leave he knocks over something that was on the desk. "Shit."

He knows this is wrong, but what else can he do? He can't convince Alastor of anything- no one can!

It's Alastor's fault, he started it, that's all there is to it.

Angel takes the file, hides it in his jacket and sneaks back out of the office, careful to not step on whatever fell off the desk as he avoided making any more noise.

He manages to get out of her office with no issue.

“Angel?" A voice asks before he could even make it to the stairs.

Angel jumps and looks behind him. "Charlie...hi.”

The princess has a huge smile on her face as always. "Couldn't sleep either?" She asks.

"Um...nope." he says.

“Can we maybe talk? For a second?" She asks him.

Shit.

“What about?” He asks her.

“It's nothing serious.” She says. “I just wanted to check in on you, make sure you're doing okay.”

“I'm fine.” He says quickly.

“Are you sure? Ever since we asked about the classification test, you've been-”

“I said I'm fine.” Angel growls. “I don't need your stupid test!”

“I wasn't-”

“Can we drop this? Please?” Angel asks.

“Yeah. Of course. I'm so sorry. I didn't-”

“Stop apologizing.” He says.

She shouldn't be apologizing…

She didn't do anything.

“Angel…Are you-”

“I said I'm fine.” Angel tells her. "Just- drop it. Okay?"

Charlie's head drops to the floor. “Yeah...okay.”

He suddenly feels cold, ice cold…

‘Tony, I can help you. This sickness you have, it can be helped.’

‘I don't need your help.’ He growled.

Molly rested a hand on his shoulder. ‘Please, Tony…’

'Stop!' He pushes her away, her head hitting the wall hard.

‘Molly- I- I didn't mean to-’

His sister gets up, the back of her head bleeding a little.

Angel feels a painful, horrible feeling in his chest, he looks over at the princess who's walking away, similar to how she did when she tried to stand up to Val. “Charlie-” He shouts, trying to get her attention.

Charlie looks back at him. “Yes?”

“I'm sorry…It-it was just a long week.” He explains.

Charlie smiles. “It's okay, I know work isn't easy.” She says, walking back over to him and taking two of his hands.

Angel nods, his breath slowing down, but not as fast as he needs it to.

Charlie makes eye contact. “I mean it, it's okay.” She says. “If you ever want to talk, I'm here for you. I won't judge- or pity you. Oh! We can even have a drink and talk if that's easier!” She suggests.

Angel smiles. “Thanks…maybe I'll take you up on that…someday.”

Charlie smiles. “I hope you do. I know I've been spending a lot of time with Pentious. I forget to tell you sometimes just how proud I am of the progress you've made. You really are doing such a great job here. No one deserves redemption more than you do.”

Angel feels a sharp pain in his chest. “I- uh. I should try to get some sleep.” He says.

“Yeah, good plan.” Charlie says. “Rest up for tomorrow. Another fun day of super fun activities!”

“Yeah, looking forward to it.” He lies.

“Rest well!” She says.

“Thanks…”

He walks to his room and closes the door.

Yeah, Angel pretty much hates himself now…

But honestly…

How's that different from any other day?

'When did humans start to separate

Brain and heart as if they could stay alive alone?

Flip it around the other way

If they were apart and you had no power start or database

Only a shell remains

What fun is it, to be so calculated

Or be taken advantage of, 'cause your heart's too trusting

Silent expressed push my head into my chest

Bind them up, forever wed

"Don't drift too far, " they said.'

~Melanie Martinez, Brain & Heart.

Possum note:

Guess who has two thumbs and had a mental breakdown... this guy!

Hahaha.

Mental illness is so fun! I love it! So much! lol

I was having such a good week too, darn it. :/

Anywaaaaaayyyyzzzzzzzz

What did you all think of the chapter? Half decent at least I hope?

If not, better chapters are on their way.

Thank you all for your support, and being my safe place. I appreciate all of you! Every comment, kudo, any support. You have no idea, guuys, it means everything to me!

I hope you all are doing well, you have the bestist day ever and you all are safe and okay 💕

If you're not, that's okay too. And remember it's okay to talk about stuff.

And remember also that bad days don't last forever. Tomorrow is always possible.

Good song for bad days: Tomorrow will be kinder by the secret sisters.

It's my comfort song. It would be the song for every chapter if I had to just pick 1 song. Lol 🎵 🎶

@todayimfour @trophyxtissues2 @innocentlittlelambsnursery @ask-dusty-boy @dex-dawn @abby5577 @babiegurlmuffin

#ittybittysinners #hazbin hotel agere #hazbin hotel age regression #little!Alastor #little!Vaggie #little!Velvette #cg!Vox #cg!Valentino #helluverse agere #helluverse age regression

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lorablackmane · 2 months

Text

It's time for ghosts y'all!! I wanted to make this post once I finished a chapter or 2 of my AU's fic, but I've talked about these lil fuckers so much w/ Teal in the past month I figured it might be best to make a post b4 that so ppl aren't confused in the future.

The premise of this AU is after the night after the King is defeated, everyone is celebrating! ...Until odd things start to appear in the House. A giant bloodsplatter in the Death Corridor and a trail of blood leading from it to the King's room. A shattered shelf and knocked over pot missing it's contents in the kitchen. A frozen body near the storage room.

One by one, ghosts created from the breaking points of Siffrin's wish start to appear, and they're here to stay! For better... or for worse.

Below is how each ghost was made, their wishcraft's scent (I put too much thought into this info so I'm adding it), and a bit about them!

(Cw for the ghost's stories below: death, suicide, allergy attack)

The Stoned - Created in Act 1 - Smells like Copper and Sugar

(This one will get a proper ref later bc this doesn't fully capture him)

Despite their looks, The Stoned is the calmest out of all of them, even though their death was one of the most painful. It happened so quickly and also messed up enough that the Wishcraft couldn't fix most of their body after the boulder disappears... so he can't feel pain anymore. He can't really feel much honestly there's... there isn't many nerves to feel with anymore. The additional lack of bones is a detriment to their ability to move, making them have to crawl around and continuously shift so they won't lose their balance until they get items like crutches and a wheelchair to help.

The Stoned doesn't know the horrors of the House and so are innocent in a way even Bonnie isn't. They never even it made it to the second half of the first floor! So a lot of the things the others talk about fly over their head. The others don't leave them out of talks about the House though! ...Not that the Stoned... really speaks - but it's the thought that counts!! They have their buddy to speak for them, anyway.

Just like how Loop's Wishcraft made their body unique, each ghost has their own lil quirk due to the Wishcraft that powers their bodies. The Stoned has the oddest one: due to their lack of most their bones their body is almost completely powered by Wishcraft that is activated by the air he breathes in. Because of this, he can actually almost flatten himself by releasing all the air inside themself, and will stay that way until he breathes back in. He can't move like that, but it does sometimes come in handy - by releasing some instead of all the air they can make themself slightly more compact to get into tight places!

The Silent - Created in Act 2 - Smells like Saltwater Taffy

The Silent is a fearful one, they remember the pain the House offers but cannot feel it. They only truly remember up to Bonnie accidentally pushing them, however they know so much more. Each time Siffrin touched a tear he gave them the memories of that run, but to the Silent it was less like a memory and more like watching a play. Detached from themself... yet the fear is there. They aren't like Stone who only remembers his death, they know the blessing was a curse wrapped in a pretty bow and the thought that what they see is only a fragment of the loops Siffrin went through... it makes them retreat into themself, especially bc they see their existence as unneeded bc well... Siffrin already exists. They don't need another to bother them.

It's much easier to stay put, to let them become one with the House as the tears intended. They don't need to breathe, to eat, or anything really so it's quite easy for them to do so! For them to just... exist. Hiding in plain sight, like the books hidden on shelves of the House written in their mother tongue. So this is where they stay, until one day maybe people can hear them speak once more. They do occasionally move, mostly when they hear that the Housemaiden's need the area they're in, but only when they're certain no one is looking.

When it comes to fight, flight, or freeze they choose freeze every time... which isn't helped by the quirk of their body's Wishcraft. The Silent can freeze anything up to the size of a medium bowl if they hold it for long enough. The Unseen will sometimes use this to pull pranks on people who upset them, stealing their umbrellas and placing them in The Silent's hold. They find this very petty... but they don't like moving bc a Housemaiden might see them and it is funny so they don't stop the two from doing so.

The Unseen(Left) - Created in Act 3 - Smells like Candied Pineapples

The left one is similar in personality to the Stoned as when they were created Siffrin knews that something was wrong, but still had hope that things were okay. They are an odd one: they see their accidental death as nothing in the grand scheme of things considering how many deaths already happened before them. If anything, he sees his death as a vital piece of showing their love to their family oddly enough! His memory is spotty, but the answer to Bonnie's question is forever engraved upon their skin so none of them will ever forget (even if most cannot see them anymore except outta the corner of their eye). There is a great sorrow in them though, after meeting their counterpart and discovering that there was so much pain afterwards - that like them this fact is engraved into their counterpart... but they'll stay with them, and maybe... they can bring some joy back to the right.

They help keep their counterpart's pranks in check, as unlike the right left remembers how fragile people are and doesn't see them as actors or dolls. Most of the pranks they plan are leaving lil letters with terrible puns around the House. Like you go into the bathroom, there's a letter tied to the handle of the sink. You open it and it says something like, "water you doin, handsome?" Stupid stuff like that, that makes them feel like the funnyjokespunperson they were before everything. A way to reclaim what the loops took from them both.

The Lonely - Created in Act 3 - Smells of Sugar and Moldy Cloth

This ghost is the culmination of so, so many fragments Siffrin left in between those walls. For a long time they did not remember anything besides the motions to get to the King, yet they could never defeat him. They couldn't survive his major attack, no matter what they did. It feels like at one point he could though... wasn't there a way? It isn't until the ghost event that they remember what they lost and while it felt absolute euphoria in that moment, after that the loneliness became soul crushing. The hunger for someone, anyone to be with them hurt so much! ...It made them remember why they forgot their family the first time.

The Lonely's quirk unlike most of the others isn't seared on their skin. No, the Lonely's ability is actually only really useful for dealing with The Unseen - anytime one of the others is in danger or about to do something dangerous they sense it. The Vengeful is constantly ringing this mental alarm, but it can't do anything to help due to it constantly moving so they don't even try with them. The Unseen though, it is often seen dragging them by the ears before they do something like unleash a barrel full of marbles in a hallway.

The Vengeful - Created in Act 4 - Smells of Steel, Salt, and Sugar

It is the culmination of the King's cruelty and Siffrin's agony, a beast made of anger, pain, and sorrow in equal measures. It hates the King both bc Siffrin did and bc it sees him at fault for it's creation as it doesn't know of Wishcraft as it was created right on the line between 3 and 4. That is why it tore his right hand off and stole the gauntlet upon it - a punishment for the action that created it and a trophy for it to wear as proof that, even after such a horrid deed, he didn't win. It runs away from the House and it's former family because of this memory - it cannot confront the people it feels it failed even with the knowledge they survived, that it's sin wasn't permanent. In it's eyes it will always exist. It's eye will sometimes gleam with the same shade as the one that appeared when the world was breaking!

The Vengeful is the only ghost no one is completely sure the location of due to it throwing itself out of the first available window after completing it's mission. It mostly stays in forests or caverns where it can easily hide, only going near towns if someone reminds it of the King. Once it has dealt with said person however it views it needs to, mostly by scaring them, it returns to it's current hiding spot. The Vengeful is a lonely one, but it's not ready to be near people for long periods of time. It's afraid that due to how it was created it'll bring bad luck to those it spends too much time with - how couldn't it? It was created from a person trapped in the middle of an hourglass until they drowned in the golden sands and by a man who saw his will as absolute, who caused so much agony. One day, though, it'll realize that isn't true... but it'll be quite a while.

The Unseen(Right) - Created in Act 4 - Smells like Steel and Sugar

This one is the closest in personality to Loop. It mocks even though it has no voice, they play with the people around it to remind themself they're real. Without the left the right Unseen would be much more dangerous as it is so desensitized to death they have forgotten what is actually dangerous and so some of their mischief has to be tempered by the left one to avoid killing those around them. For a very long time they view others, besides left, as merely actors in a similar vein as Loop, only referring to others via titles if it needs to interact with anyone and left doesn't control the writing pen. As time passes this trait slowly disappears, as the days show more changes like rain upon the rooftops or snow in the gardens, things it long forgot.

Together with their counterpart The Unseen are the ones who were left behind through actions seen as small, but were greater than thought. The ones who cannot be seen without drastically changing the views of ones most loved by the person they once were. And so they stay hidden from sight by their own Wishcraft... but that is a lonely way to live they discovered. The two of them alone cannot satiate their need 4 company. And so they do little things that are easily noticed so they can be seen without breaking their rule: walking around with open, stolen umbrellas or pulling little pranks.

Most Housemaiden's don't talk to them, because they never get an answer they assume they don't like talking. This isn't the case though they cannot tell them that... neither can speak. The left's throat is closed up and the right's is... well u can probably guess why theirs wouldn't work even if they had a mouth to speak with. The Lonely though does speak to them often - it has a chalkboard in the room it lives in inside the House for them to write lil questions or answers on.

#lbwriting #isat #in stars and time #isat spoilers #isat au #Echoes of Loops AU #love these critters so much #they cause so many issues u have no idea #A lot of philosophy scholars will b having a field day exploring the questions these ghosts bring to Vaugarde #Bc that ghost might b committing blasphemy but does it count if they're not in ur religion? Can ghosts even commit blasphemy?#feel free to ask about them btw! I love talking about them if this very long post wasn't any indication

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insomniumstella · 1 year

Text

ego’s one hell of a drug (6) | bucky x avenger!reader

summary: Steve’s silly joke happened to inspire the best, or possibly the worst, idea Wanda had ever come up with — send James Buchanan Barnes and y/n on an all-expenses-paid honeymoon in Hawaii. the problem? they cannot stand to be around each other.

warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, explicit language, alcohol consumption, sarcastic!bucky, but also a bit of asshole!bucky and sweet!bucky strangely

word count: 6,205

taglist is down below (please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list!)

WHERE DREAMS GO TO DIE masterlist

series’ SPOTIFY playlist

author's note: before writing WHERE DREAMS GO TO DIE i always thought that chapter six would be my favorite and … it is haha

The royal blue hue of the vintage Chevy Corvette glimmered underneath the bright sunlight. James was clad in a short sleeve linen shirt with the top buttons undone, exposing the smooth muscle of his upper chest. She could peep the collage of flesh and metal from where she stood outside the hotel’s glass entrance doors, observing the carefree strokes in his expression and the Ray-Ban sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose. It was an unusual sight; the first time she had ever seen James wearing sunglasses.

She smiled at him, bewildered by the soldier’s newfound attitude, “is this the surprise?”

“No,” the corner of his mouth quirked up as he gripped the steering wheel with the metal hand, “it’s an apology.”

“An apology,” it was a statement hidden underneath a hint of curiosity — she let it die on the tip of her tongue, suspending the silent wonder in the humid air of Hawaii.

James leaned over to open the passenger’s door without abandoning the vehicle and nodded his head, “an apology for the last however many years I’ve been more than an asshole.”

“It’s bordering on six.”

“It’s bordering on six,” he repeated when y/n plopped into the seat, throwing an Iron Man tote bag Tony had given her as a joke last Easter on the floor and kicked it to the side, “but yes, it’s also the surprise.”

“How’d you know I love Chevys?”

“Steve,” Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was the most casual of responses, “and perhaps Natasha, too.” The sergeant admitted, pushing the Ray-Bans higher.

She sat in the vehicle dumbfounded. James Buchanan Barnes was the woman’s finest enemy, the man she had despised for five consecutive years without questioning whether the war between her and Bucky ever had a true reason, and he had just admitted to knowing that her favorite cars were vintage Chevy Corvettes.

“Steve tell you anything else?”

“He might’ve,” the smallest of smirks danced on his lips, “Natasha surely did.”

“What’d she say?” She questioned, leaning to increase the volume of the refurbished radio.

“Mentioned you love peaceful rides and hidden coffee shops,” he twisted the ignition key to start the car, the smirk on his mouth refusing to falter, “beaches and happy hours.”

“Oh, how I love happy hours,” y/n agreed, detaching her own pair of sunglasses from her tank top and planting them on the bridge of her nose to shield herself from the blazing light.

Maui’s sun was unforgiving in early summer mornings.

“Good, because we’re going on a real nice drive to search for the best sandwiches and iced lattes Maui has to offer before ending the day with a drink or two.”

The Maui Resort soon disappeared out of y/n’s view as James stepped on the gas, pursuing a narrow road, and she perched her feet on the leather seat, the sandals long forgotten.

“Should I open Apple Maps,” she teased, “Google Maps,” her voice faltered for a moment, “Waze?”

Though the woman had listed plenty of options for navigation, James could only chuckle at her instinctive response, “you genuinely do not trust me, do you?”

“I say this with all of the love and respect my heart holds for you,” she teased him yet again, “I absolutely do not.”

“Outstanding,” he shook his head, eyes focused on the road, “makes the journey that more fun.”

The soldier had been awfully quiet after they had abandoned the SPA for a speedy lunch, and she had chosen to bite her tongue about Nancy, Elijah, and Mark. To James, that was. She had texted Sam as soon as she had reclaimed her iPhone from the locker, crafting a message capable of turning The Falcon into a vigilant agent but harmless enough to keep his fears at bay.

The gala and the plan had been the lone thing she could focus on. Concern must’ve been visibly engraved into her features because, by the time dinner came, James had forged an awkward yet friendly persona, attempting to devise jokes and distract y/n from her inner turmoil. The man had not been successful, but she was appreciative of his struggles.

“You wouldn’t drop dead if I slept in the bed tonight, would you?” James had asked once the sun had fallen and the moon had appeared.

The woman had been too exhausted to argue, and though she hadn’t admitted it out loud, his presence in the bedroom had brought eerie comfort. She had been almost elated he had abandoned the couch for the soft cushions of the suite’s bed.

Last night, they had not discussed the couple’s massage, which was strange but not stranger than sleeping in a bed together. And sure — the piece of furniture in the lovers’ suite was massive, more than comfortable for two people, and both James and she had plenty of space to move around without making contact, except they had woken up in a tangle of limbs, y/n’s face nestled into James’ chest.

She had decided to avoid thinking about it too much during breakfast. Instead, her mind had returned to the only legitimate conversation the two had in the prior hours before the night had the chance to border morning. James had suppressed his pride and admitted his faults. To say it had come as a surprise—and a delight— would be an understatement.

She had nearly sworn the soldier’s words had been a bizarre hallucination because the James she had conceptualized, the mural of a man she had been painting in the past five years, would’ve never willingly confessed to mistakes and defeats.

Except, if Barnes had been able to acknowledge his crimes, she could’ve imagined herself declaring that she had been harsh, too. He had promised y/n a surprise, and she had silently pledged to act visibly grateful about it. Perhaps, sweet even.

James hadn't mentioned much more of the surprise, but he had succeeded to distract her from it, ripping out a laugh from the woman after presenting the stream of angry messages from his last date, Jennifer, and permitting y/n to read through the furious words.

She had forgotten about Nancy and the gala then, cackling at James’ exaggerations of the milk switch-up, “I was chained to the godforsaken bathroom for the entirety of the night, y/n.” The disappointed tone in his voice had roughly disguised the honest amusement. “Lonely and drained, and defeated.”

“Oh James,” she had subconsciously leaned her head on his shoulder, “the texts almost make me want to switch out the almond beverage for whole milk again.”

“The promise,” he had reminded, “I nurtured you after Jordan’s party, and you swore to cease mischievous milk activities.”

The woman had laughed, the booming sound of it saturating the lovers’ suite, “mischievous milk activities, huh?” James had remained silent, and she had teased him for the ludicrous comment, “you deserve to be punished for using such lines.”

“Innocent until proven guilty,” he had shrugged.

“As a woman of great authority,” y/n had angled her face to stare into his eyes, “I pronounce you guilty and decide upon a decade-long sentence.”

James’ pupils had been blown-wide as he gazed at y/n through hooded eyes, “your honor, there is too little evidence to convict me.”

The woman had cocked her head to the side as a faux expression of distaste painted her features, “you used a phrase mischievous milk activities, and call me insane, but if that alone wouldn’t get you a ten-year punishment, I have zero clue what would.”

“Oh, please,” James had leaned against the headboard, “allow me to tell you a story of a ghost they call the Winter Soldier.”

She had shifted positions, sliding close enough to the man that their thighs had touched, “you’re such a bastard,” the outrage had only been slightly fictitious, “why would you bring that up?”

“What?” He had rested a single arm on the woman’s shoulders. “Does it raise negative connotations?”

“Yes,” she had nodded, surprising him, “for one, the Winter Soldier has stabbed me, which took months to heal and recover from, and two,” silence had fallen upon the room for several, drawn-out moments, “the ghost has been replaced with James and I’d hate for you to associate yourself with the assassin.”

“Doll,” he had sighed, “I was the assassin. There is no way I could ever forget, it has been engraved into my existence. The title of the Winter Soldier will forever haunt me, no matter how much I run.”

“You’re quite big,” she had assessed, seemingly off-topic, “not that great of a runner.”

“Alright,” he had chuckled, maneuvering under the covers and turning off the night light, “goodnight.”

James’ tone had not held resentment or annoyance and she had allowed sleep to steal her away from the world of the conscious and into the world of the dormant without saying anything else.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: the gala is this Sunday.

The woman raked her eyes over Sam’s words. At the beginning of the week, she would’ve been more than happy to abandon the honeymoon in exchange for a mission, but as she stared at the phone screen, the Falcon confirming y/n’s uncertainty, she couldn’t help the eerie sadness from slithering its way into her heart. The two were set to leave on Monday, and Friday had sneakily crept in, drawing the end of the vacation closer than she would’ve enjoyed. A coin has two sides, she reminded herself. It was not the time to wallow in self-pity over the loss of two blissful days.

The unexpected encounter with Nancy had created space for an opportunity to save Steve and bust Elijah, bringing the remains of HYDRA, Mark, and perhaps other operatives, with him. She could enjoy today and leave as early as tomorrow morning.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: I managed to get us on the guest list.

BEST AVENGER: thank you.

She hoped Sam wouldn’t think of asking further questions.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: are we going there to bust HYDRA officers, or is there another reason you won’t say?

The spy’s prayers were not heard.

BEST AVENGER: no other reason:)

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to be on that stupid phone the whole day?” James’ voice was a lost sound in the unruly wind. “I didn’t drive an hour for nothin’, doll.” He shouted.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: you’re aware the smiley face makes the text seem highly suspicious?

Somewhere amidst the fabricated stories and his genuine feelings, the soldier had gotten comfortable using the nickname for the girl, as if it had always belonged to her and as if the couple’s history had not been riddled with petty fights and strange hatred.

BEST AVENGER: whaaaaaat:)

“It’s Sam!” She yelled, shutting the passenger’s door and sprinting to meet James where he stood on the shore. The sand clawed at her feet, attempting to swallow y/n’s every step, and she was out of breath by the time she reached the soldier. The look on Bucky’s face begged for an explanation. “Sam wants us to attend the charity gala.”

“It’s this Sunday, right?” James questioned.

“Mmmh,” she hummed in agreement, paying very little attention.

Eyes glued on the screen, y/n awaited the Falcon’s response.

SAM THE MIGHTY AVENGER: Steve wants to train in 5.

SAM THE MIGHTY AVENGER: should I inform the Captain of our plans?:)

He might’ve been teasing y/n, but she wasn’t willing to take risky chances.

“No,” James shook his head in annoyance, “tell Sam we’re not attending the gala because our flight leaves on Monday,” his hand encased her wrist, stopping y/n from typing, “and for the love of god, put this away.” There was no doubt his tone implied that her phone would soon end up in the ocean if she didn’t hide it.

“Bucky,” she snatched her wrists away from his hold, “all I need is a second,” only the word desperate could’ve been used to describe her voice.

The man towered over the girl dumbfounded. Did y/n just call me Bucky?

She stood with her face buried in the glass screen, accidentally shielding herself from James’ flustered expression. The woman very rarely, if ever, called the soldier Bucky. It had always been limited to James or Barnes, or asshole if he had done something particularly malicious to anger her, but never Bucky, and especially never Bucky willingly. On a scarce occasion, y/n would address him as Sergeant, respecting the title he had earned in the forties, but Bucky was reserved for Steve, and Sam disappointingly, who oftentimes used the name to mock the soldier, jealous of the Captain’s favoritism. Even Tony had used the nickname several times, or Natasha, but y/n was weary of it, afraid it bounded on the territory of friendship.

BEST AVENGER: DON’T YOU DARE.

BEST AVENGER: Sam, I’m BEGGING.

BEST AVENGER: those smiley faces do look suspicious, though.

Pink had crept onto his cheeks, yet James remained nonchalant on the outside, counting second after second, “six, seven, eight—“

SAM THE MIGHTY AVENGER: I trust you, but I’m not an idiot, y/n.

Sam was right. It was outlandish to believe he wouldn’t see through her dishonesty, except she couldn’t bring herself to put Elijah’s plans into visible words, and so the message was left blank. The moving dots on Sam’s screen vanished as she removed her fingers from the glass, turning the iPhone off, and shoved it into the back pocket of her denim shorts.

“The counting was unnecessary,” she forced a laugh, “besides, I’m all yours now.”

“Good,” he nodded, forcing the words I’m all yours to vacate his head, “because the coffee shop is a fifteen-minute walk away, and I was hoping to enjoy the scenic view together.”

She took a step back, glancing around. If her nose had not been buried in the gadget, she would’ve noticed the golden sand and crystal waters. “It is beautiful.”

“Yes,” he shrugged, the smallest of smirks dancing on his lips, “it’s Maui.”

“New York City can be spectacular,” she argued, half lightheartedly, “but one wouldn’t say it’s scenic because it’s New York.”

“Is it possible,” James was ready to call out her bluff, “you’re picking an unnecessary fight because you’re uncomfortable with my friendliness?”

She stared at him in disbelief before her gaze dropped to his lips and the smirk upon them, “no,” she narrowed her eyes, “maybe,” y/n’s gaze returned to his amused face, and she suddenly admitted defeat, “yes.”

“Should I insult you?” James cocked his head to the side. “Leave you on the beach in the middle of nowhere?” His hand had slithered its way to her waist as an invitation to start walking. She didn’t make an effort to remove his touch. “Make you pay for our sandwiches?”

The last question took her by surprise, “that doesn’t sound terrible. Tony forgot to reclaim his credit card after he let me use it, so technically our lunch would be on him.”

“We’re in Hawaii,” he reminded, “the food’s expensive here.”

“Are you threatening me with …. the cost of living, Barnes?” She threw a puzzled look his way, traces of merriment clawing at its edges. “Officially color me confused.”

James suddenly paused, beginning to walk just as quickly as he had halted. “I want the hostility between us gone, but you’re not exactly the easiest person to make amends with,” he admitted.

She had managed to restrain herself against a sarcastic remark. James desired an end to the interminable war between a soldier and a spy, and though she would decidedly miss the petty arguments, y/n was exhausted. Exhausted from the nasty fights, and the murderous comments, drained from the burden of clashing with James in parallel with actual missions, which mattered because they saved lives, and on unusual occasions, the world, too. She liked to tell herself that, anyway.

“Amends, it is.”

“This building does not resemble the photos whatsoever,” James snickered, peering at the woman.

The soldier had paid for the sandwiches and the coffee despite y/n’s finest attempts at convincing the man to use Tony’s card. The two had argued about it, as they often would, but she had been left without a bitter taste in her mouth afterward. It was strange, yet pleasant. Amicable James was far better than mean James.

“Mmmh,” she reluctantly agreed, staring at a dive bar at best and an abandoned hut at worst, “but Google says it has great desserts and round-the-clock happy hour.”

The wooden sign outside helped solidify the statement. Though the chalk had almost disappeared, she could read Aloha’s offer.

What’s better than $4 Margaritas? $6 Mai Tais!

“I trusted you,” James shook his head, following y/n inside, “and this is what you led us to?”

They had spent the morning at the beach, indulging in iced lattes and fluffy bread. James had packed their swimsuits, which had both shocked and terrified y/n, as he had managed to sneak into her underwear drawer without detection, but she had surrendered to his request of a swim after he had driven the two to a secret waterfall he had learned about from a random local.

The swim had been refreshing, and as she allowed the cool water to caress her skin, she had found herself forgetting about Mark and Elijah's plans. Maui’s nature had turned HYDRA into a distant memory she’d soon have to remember but could briefly ignore. There was consolation in understanding that she’d never be truly alone, for she would always have mother nature by her side.

“Stop whining,” she playfully hit Bucky in the shoulder and immediately regretted it as her flesh hit metal, ouch, “this is great.”

It was not great, judging by James' inflated expectations, for which she might've been at fault, as she had described the bar to be ritzy and delightful, but y/n found herself falling in love with the space. Granted, it was barely past two in the afternoon, and yet the establishment was peculiarly empty, creating an opportunity for unrestrained conversations.

Everything had been touched by age, too. The woman could’ve run her fingers across the heavy tables, observed the intricate light fixtures, or flipped through a stack of books in the corner — the bar had been well-loved through generations. Even the menu, stained and peeling at the corners, seemed eerily familiar as if Google had led them to a place of forgotten coziness by fate.

“Aloha!” The sound of a man’s voice rang through the space. Judging by his boyish features, she had decided the bartender couldn’t be older than twenty-one. “What can I get you?”

“A pitcher of Margaritas,” James cut straight to the chase before angling his body toward her, “what did Google say the best dessert here was?”

“Grilled pineapples and cheesecake,” the employee answered before y/n had the chance to speak, smiling at the couple.

“Right,” she threw him a friendly grin in return, “let us get that, too.”

The original pitcher had turned empty an hour ago and as y/n leisurely, but assuredly made her way through the second jug alone, she had found herself listening instead of talking.

James had noticed her peculiar silence and had tried to compensate the awkwardness with random stories, dancing around the particular topic they should’ve discussed. The memory hung in the atmosphere, so heavy it was almost suffocating.

The soldier’s next words were a breath of poisonous air, “we cannot ignore the couple’s massage, y/n.”

She paused mid-chew, raising her eyes to meet his, and loudly swallowed the bite of cheesecake, “I’d prefer if we did.”

“Look,” his speech halted as James rummaged through his brain, the visions of y/n, bare and vulnerable underneath his rough palms, igniting a traitorous fire within his heart, “I could’ve stopped,” Bucky stared at her, observing the nervous habit of pushing food around the plate rather than eating it, “you could’ve stopped me,” the sentence died on the tip of his tongue, remaining unfinished.

“I could’ve,” she agreed, licking the fork clean, “you could’ve, it’s pointless to wonder what could’ve been.” The fork hit the ceramic dish with a booming sound when it slipped from y/n’s fingers. “The massage happened, and we cannot change the fact it did.”

“Yes,” James nodded, neck sizzling hot with approaching frustration, “but that’s the thing — we never had to go through with it in the first place.” She pursed her lips together, and he continued speaking. “We chose to attend the activity, and we did it willingly.”

She shook her head, sighing. James could feel the annoyance clawing at the entirety of his body, rearing its ugly head as it often did if he spent time around the woman. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

It doesn’t mean anything, he scoffed at the foolishness of y/n’s words, does she think I’m that naive?

James settled into the chair, perching his clasped hands on the wooden surface. If she wanted to mistake him for an idiot, he’d give into the woman’s game. “Why’d you return the favor?”

“What?” She gawked at him in incredulity.

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards, “why’d you massage me?”

The spy had caught on, narrowing her eyes, “I wanted to learn.”

“Lani had left the room long before,” he snickered, “there was little learning for you to do, doll.”

James was correct. She couldn’t deny that the masseuse had abandoned the space, leaving the two entirely alone, way before James had kneaded her thighs and buttocks, and before she had offered to return the favor, sliding her gentle hands across his smooth skin. It had been therapeutic, almost, to melt away the knots in his shoulders and biceps, and when he had shifted to lay on his back, y/n had found herself concentrating on his defined Adonis belt far longer than she should’ve if she desired to retain her lust for the man a secret.

A low groan escaped from y/n’s throat, “it was educational,” she lied.

“Educational?”

“Mmmh,” she hummed, toying with the edge of the dessert plate they had shared, “I’ve never, umm, intimately touched the Winter Soldier, or, you know, anyone with a … metal arm?” y/n had not craved for her tone to convert into that of a question, and she silently cursed.

“You’ve never caressed the Winter Soldier, huh?” He chuckled, leaning back in the woven chair. “C’mon, you have always been an exceptional liar.”

“OK,” she averted her gaze, hoping to find comfort in the dirty menu.

The Rumors Are True — our $12 nachos are back!

James didn’t entirely desire to pester her. “Curiosity killed the cat,” he had remembered Steve’s words, and Steve was a righteous man with great judgment. Bucky trusted Steve, honestly and endlessly, and depended on the Captain’s help to navigate the future he had suddenly reclaimed.

Except, what could Steve, a person too shy to invite Natasha on a date, understand of James’ intricate emotions and desires towards y/n? Steve belonged to a world without gray. Details had always been either good or bad, black or white, and the space in the middle had never existed to the hero.

James was no hero, no, he resided in a world full of gray. The two might’ve been best of pals, but they were of different genetics. Once upon a time, James too had lived during simpler days, where the Red Skull was a villain, and he had been the savior without an opportunity for doubts, but that perfect world had slipped from his grasp, and whereas Steve had remained the same, Bucky had changed. He had taken lives just as he had saved them. He had been a devil just as he had been an angel, and if pestering y/n would scratch the bothersome itch of curiosity underneath his skin, so it’d be.

“We’ll always have Maui,” a smirk waltzed on his lips as he curved the conversation in a slightly different direction.

The reference puzzled her, “what?”

“We could have a lot more than memories though.” It was bold, and it was terrifying, and he had allowed the words to roll off his tongue without much consideration.

“James,” she closed her eyes, frustrated by his perseverance, “would it make you feel better if I admitted to enjoying the massage?” The woman questioned without an ounce of sarcasm in her voice. “What is it that you want from me, sergeant?”

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: Steve was informed of our gala plans.

“Honesty,” James confessed, “because our lives are riddled with lies, so yes, for once, all I yearn for is honesty.” Traces of annoyance stained his tone, and y/n’s nose, buried in the iPhone, managed to fuel his irritation.

BEST AVENGER: plans as in Steve knows we will attend or plans as in Steve knows about Mark?

SAM THE FALCON: plans as in Steve knows we will attend.

BEST AVENGER: is he angry?

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: no.

Though she was startled by Sam’s message, she had managed to detect the change in James’ body language and the gruffness in his voice. It only ignited her own irritation further.

Perhaps the soldier was correct — the faux honeymoon had destroyed the space of comfort they had once shared, and perhaps, yes, she had noticed an absence of useless arguments and death stares, but it couldn’t mean anything. She’d betray herself if it did. A woman doesn’t fall in love with a man who had belittled, discredited, and crushed her. James had been pleasant to be around lately, sure, bringing breakfast and ordering champagne before she even had the chance to ask during their late-night sessions of cracking Elijah’s case, but a couple good deeds cannot undo the five prior years of maliciousness. She had to convince herself his newfound attitude could never erase their past, and she had to do it quick, for she was terrified of letting go the last bit of control she had been holding on to.

“I enjoyed the massage,” she shrugged, pursing her lips. The sentence was short and sweet, and she had nothing else to say, diverting her eyes back to the phone screen.

BEST AVENGER: good.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: he’s excited we’re taking initiative to mingle with government officials, but he wanted to know what spurred our sudden change of heart.

BEST AVENGER: what’d you tell him?

James dragged the flesh palm across his face. Undoubtedly, he had not been the best at expressing his thoughts ever since the accident. HYDRA had contorted the man into an emotionless assassin who destroyed everything in his path with a simple command. Those days were behind him, and if he allowed himself to dream, even a little, he’d dream for y/n in the entirety of who she was. The woman’s mind, heart, and body. It hurt because it had always taken two to tango; he had never been solely responsible for the war between them. She was wicked smart, and she could see through his attempts of candor, eagerly ignoring James’ troubles to play the fool’s part.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: we heard rumors about the reimplementation of the Sokovia Accords and want to speak with Thaddeus Ross to ease our concerns.

BEST AVENGER: did he believe you?

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: no.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: we’re going there for the Miley Cyrus performance.

She chuckled at his response. It was not until that moment that y/n realized how terribly she had missed Sam and his calming presence.

BEST AVENGERS: it’s a good thing we blasted her Plastic Hearts album on repeat for the last three months.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: about that, I might’ve promised Steve we’ll stop if he won’t alert Tony that we use his credit card without permission.

“What does Sam want again?” The sovereignty had returned to James’ tone as he abandoned the hardship of a sincere conversation with the woman. It was difficult enough to watch y/n switch into a friend for the Falcon.

BEST AVENGER: I’m willing to take that loss.

“James,” she sighed, turning the phone off and placing it screen down on the table, “there’s something I need to tell you.” The spy swallowed the lump in her throat, toying with an empty Margarita glass.

“I’m all ears.” He cocked his head to the side as the walls around him suddenly shattered.

James stared at her, eyes wide and curious, and stupidly hopeful she’d confess she had fallen for him, too. Stop dancing around the topic, woman.

She had almost dropped the act, guilt settling at the pit of her stomach. Respectable women couldn’t allow themselves to fall for men who had treated them as meanly as James had treated her, but respectable women wouldn’t engage in frivolous wars, and she had; both were to blame for the history between them.

It wouldn’t matter. The words threatening to escape would soon hold no weight because she had bitten her tongue after she had overheard Nancy, choosing to bust Elijah alone. She had stolen James’ goals of demolishing HYDRA’s remains, and she had lied the prior night when he had fervently boasted of serving the politician the justice he deserved. They’d soon return to their old ways, visiting the border of nemeses and co-workers, and the honeymoon would turn into a dreadful memory. We’ll always have Maui, y/n reflected on his sentiment.

“HYDRA is gone,” she blurted out.

James had very little time to ponder over his crushed hopes, “that’s not possible.”

“Yes, it is.” She leaned back in the chair as if to escape the intensity of his scowl. “Sam and I were texting because Elijah plans to eliminate Steve at the charity gala,” she paused, briefly closing her eyes, “with Mark Basso, a former HYDRA operative.”

James forced a laugh before drawing his lower lip between his teeth, “why would Elijah want Steve dead?” The tone of his voice stunk of mockery.

“HYDRA is gone,” she repeated, hoping the words would register in his thick skull, “except for a few independent members whom Elijah works with.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that,” his expression hardened, “but it’s a stupid theory.” It had taken a single moment for James to revert back to his old ways of discrediting y/n’s abilities.

“It’s not a theory, James,” she huffed out in annoyance, “I’m leaving this evening to attend the gala.”

“If you wanted to cut the vacation short, you could’ve just asked.”

The woman pursed her lips together, dropping her gaze to the menu.

Made fresh, always.

Bucky’s words stung more than they should’ve.

The pretend honeymoon had forever ruined y/n, for she had gotten a delicious bite of an authentic James Buchanan Barnes, and she desired another taste. The woman had realized she needed the man just as the moon needed the sun, but if betraying James was to save Steve's life, she'd betray him once more in a heartbeat.

Whispers of guilt and sorrow colored her tone, "I'm sorry."

The simple words obscured an unspoken secret, and James' illusion of a truce shattered. The spy had pursued the goal of revenge alongside James, it had not been a mistake, it had been ignorance to overlook the blazing fire to demolish HYDRA within him. Bucky had hoped she trusted him, but not only had she just ridiculed his opinion of the organization's existence, she had obtained a crucial piece of information and unabashedly hidden it.

The sergeant suppressed his anger, swallowing the lump in his throat, "how'd you find out Elijah plots to assassinate Steve?"

"It was after the massage," she slid to the edge of her seat, facing Bucky head-on despite the remorse prickling at her skin, "it was overwhelming, the gentle caresses of your hands and the scent of your cologne, I needed fresh air to clear my head," y/n admitted.

"Mmmh," James urged y/n to continue the story despite the wave of unrecognized emotions crashing over him, but hastily spoke before she had the chance to, "didn't Wanda request you give her a call?"

The woman's silence replaced the word no. She ran her tongue across her bottom lip, deciding whether a raw confession would do them any good after the heap of lies, "it was you whom I needed to escape because your touch had me utterly too hot and troubled, and hell," she drew in a shallow breath, "it was terrifying to accept that I might've started crushing on the Winter Soldier, and so I wandered around the SPA, and—"

James sighed, placing a hand on y/n's forearm, "inhale, please."

She took in a breath, much deeper than the last, "Lani guided me to a terrace, it was empty besides a random woman, she was in a formal conversation before it turned into gossip," his touch was simultaneously comforting and poignant, "the cocoon chair shielded her face, but it was evident the woman was Nancy."

"Nancy?"

"Yes," the clench of his jaw didn't go unobserved by y/n, "I haven't got the faintest idea of who she could've been chatting with, though. Nancy mentioned Elijah's gala plans to murder Steve, and I abandoned the area soon after."

A moment of tense stillness settled upon them.

"Why the fuck wouldn't you inform me of this last night, y/n?" James' words dripped with poison.

"James—"

The sergeant abruptly prevented y/n from speaking further, "you cannot hide shit like this, we had a promise to unravel fresh leads together."

"James!" She raised her voice to match his sound level. "In that stubborn mind of yours, do you truly believe HYDRA continues to exist?" She spoke again when his silence confirmed her concerns, "HYDRA is gone, and I understand it might be hard for you to concede, but it doesn't change the fact."

The spy and the soldier could never be friends, and they could never be lovers, for James would always disregard her abilities, and she would always turn to bitterness as a coping mechanism. Neither Bucky nor y/n craved change; it was uncertain. The bubble of mutual dislike was safe, and it was comforting. She shouldn’t have hidden her intentions, she understood, but she had to conceal the suspicions because James wasn’t the easiest of people to trust. The man had lived through countless wars and was too stubborn to admit his battle plans could ever have flaws.

"Elijah wouldn't kill Steve," he dryly chuckled, "he isn't bold enough for such a crime, which, assumingly, discredits the theories you've created."

"Mark would," she shrugged nonchalantly, "he's HYDRA's fallen agent." James averted his gaze away from y/n's prying eyes. "Mark Basso had been erased from history, discarded after the organization fell. Did you know the man's identified as deceased in every fucking one of our files, James? The same fucking man, whom we had just conversed with on the godforsaken boat, is identified as dead." James hated y/n's habit of emphasizing certain words during arguments.

Perhaps she was right, and HYDRA ceased to exist, but he wouldn't admit defeat. Doubtfulness had always been easier to express than trust.

"We're partners, doll," his remark surprised her, "we have worked on Elijah's case for the past four days, not to mention the eight months we had slaved unraveling his personal and professional endeavors, so why would you withhold the information about Mark Basso?"

"Alright," she drummed her fingers on the wooden table, "to be frank, I assumed you recognized him just as I did."

"Oh," he emulated the woman, "because I'm the Winter Soldier?"

"Yeaaaah," the sound was drawn-out and squeaky, "that is actually the exact reason," she grimaced in faux discomfort.

James raked his eyes over her face, briefly dropping his gaze to y/n's pursed lips, "I will not be attending the gala," he declared, standing up.

She remained seated, neatly placing a fifty-dollar note on the table, "wouldn't have guessed you would."

"Elijah Williamson is collaborating with HYDRA to reimplement Project Insight," he shrugged, gawking at her as if the intensity of his stare would miraculously compel y/n to accept his rusted, empty-of-solid-evidence, theory.

She didn't falter, and he turned to evacuate the bar.

The sergeant didn't check whether she trailed after him, and y/n swiftly leaped from the chair — James could slander her instincts for all she cared, but she'd suck on Tony's dirty toes before she would tolerate Bucky abandoning her in the middle of nowhere.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: Attachment: 1 Image

James had started the car when Sam's text lit up y/n's phone screen. She perched her bare feet on the dashboard, much to Bucky's dismay, yet he was too distracted by anger to form an audible complaint, and eagerly clicked on the notification.

BEST AVENGER: a simple gown would've sufficed.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: for an ordinary guest, yes.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: a prize in the charity auction demands a spectacular dress, though:)

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rise-my-angel · 7 months

Text

Heart of the Great Wolf

19 - Trust in the Gentle Rasps

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

Length: 14.5k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, discussions of warfare, suicidal ideation, grief and trauma, jealousy, posessive tendencies, male sexual assault victim discussion, smut, oral (f receiving), slight canon divergence

Notes: This was one of my favorite chapters to write by far, so hope you enjoy! Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here.

Your quiet was palpable since nearing the water. Travelling west along the runs of the Wall had been easy, but it also meant that none of it felt quite real until now. Much like the last time it seemed, once arriving the body of water needing to cross, you could no longer deny what you were walking into. As soon as the men had crossed the bridge over the Trident it was blood which followed for years until you lay in your own. But whereas then your quiet was the uncertainty of what was to come, this time your quiet was the shadowing memories of what was lost.

Bringing death and loss to the doorsteps of those who experienced it beside you last time, only now the plea was desperate and you were not the person any would remember. Asking them to make the same choice that ended in a massacre only so that they could hope to stand and fight against one even darker upon the horizon. Camp was being made some distance from the shore as you hovered back.

The footsteps which approached you belonging to one of the only people brave enough to approach you when poised with such tense rigidness and sharp cold in your eyes as you looked over things. “I didn’t imagine you were one to stand back and watch others take over for you.” Nothing but curiosity in Ser Davos’s voice as you both stood side by side now. You didn’t respond but he took no offence. “Not from what I saw in you that day, either. You’re a more confident leader then this, your grace.”

Fingers clenching in your crossed arms before inhaling deeply. “I am not the one they chose to follow. If I had to do this alone, I would have. But not a single one of these men would be here if he wasn’t.” Your eyes sharp as they followed Jon across the way.

You were more distant with him then ever.

“He is only here because of you.”

A waver in your breath, you finally glanced away from the distant figure to look at Ser Davos. Slightly shaking your head as you tried to stand as calm and unaffected as you could manage. “He’s here because the North is his home, and he’s fighting to protect it. Doesn’t need me for that. The North never has.”

You didn’t want to see the understanding sympathy in Davos’s eyes, you knew it wasn’t just one you were talking of. You failed to see yourself as anything worthy in either of their lives and only the remaining wonder if you had not been there, would they have avoided death? Was your presence this time an omen that blood would follow once more for such a leader? You were too involved in a life he had been forging without you.

Leaning down more towards your side, his own voice lowered to match your tone. “You wouldn’t know that if you keep avoiding him, now would you?” Turning away as your eyes peeled from him in a glare to out back to the settling camp of free folk your jaw clenched harshly. “I’m not trying to involve myself in your affairs, your grace, but I do know he’s as tense as you are. And two tense leaders who refuse to speak to each other isn’t what I’d call good for morale.”

It would be so much easier if you didn’t feel as if your lives were constantly trying to circle around each others like magnetic pulls wishing to attach. Would be easier if you just could detach from whatever this all was and do what needs to be done and forget the rest. But you didn’t have nearly enough of your father in you for that.

“I wasn’t the one who acted as their peacekeeper, not sure these men really would care about what I add to their spirits or not. Seem to be doing just fine.” Truly you were grateful but you could slink into the waters ahead and never return, and the cause and leader they followed would stay the same.

Good thing about Davos, he knew well enough when to not push one or the other. Unfortunate for you, there was very little he could broach that wasn’t going to give you a headache further. “Surprised me that you allowed your mother to come along.”

“So was she.” You gave her little room to argue or question, but you knew leaving her alone either at Castle Black or worse, sending her home unprotected at Dragonstone was only with grim prospects. “If all she has left is me, then it does not matter what issues lay between us. She would have no one left, and that...mother’s need something, someone left to live for no matter how strained.”

Your instructions were clear, she is not to involve herself in this war or planning in anyway, and she is to keep thoughts of this religion of hers to herself. The last thing this cause needed was more whispers of unnatural abilities or other world like purposes. “She’s not good at saying it, but she’s grateful you care. Though most of your family isn’t good at saying what they mean, are you?”

It barley caught the hint of even the halfest of smirks. More of a tiny glint in your eye that faded as quickly as it sparked as he continued. “Never seen this many wildlings in once place.”

“I think they prefer the term, free folk.”

Right back to the start he was correcting himself. “Never seen this many free folk in once place.”

“If I’m not mistaken, Ser Davos neither you or I have ever seen any free folk until meeting them, period.” Technically you had met one but hardly for long. Bran had told Sam that Osha took Rickon alone to saftey when he went beyond the wall with Howland Reed’s children. You had no reason not to trust her, you just hoped she could keep him safe in the same overwhelming dread of two teenagers, Hodor, and Summer all there was to keep Bran safe beyond the wall. Not noting your wondering mind, Davos chuckled beside you, and you wished you could as well. “I just hope they understand what they’re truly getting involved in.”

You heard the man before you saw him, a rumbling laugh before he was brave enough to slap an arm around your shoulder as the simple force jostled you. “You doubting us already, pretty crow?” Never did quite get used to how large Tormund stood beside you, like a cliff that was pained orange only with much more vulgar echoes.

Flickering your eyes to the side, you didn’t move much more but there was at least more of a hint of amusement then before. “No. I simply understand it’s a strange fight you’ve decided to involve yourselves in, after everything that’s happened I mean.”

Shrugging to himself, he looked back to the camp and pulled you in closer. Giving Ser Davos a slight bit of whiplash as to how used to being yanked around by such a large figure you appeared. You spent three years with Maege Mormont, you were no stranger to being jostled around by loud personalities, but the thought made you swallow. Trying not to think about what would happen when you get there and who wasn’t. You knew Dacey hadn’t gotten out that day, and it made you sick to think about.

The two Mormont’s meant much to you, helped ease you into something normal in an army camp as they cared not to watch their tones with you. Dacey didn’t deserve to have her life end at the Twins like that, none of them did. Too many faces you wondered about, some more then others.

Tormund beside you, paid no mind to your thoughts. “After everything? You mean after seeing the dead rise up after getting slaughtered? You southerners aren’t so bad compared to that.”

A moment of quiet between you three before finally speaking up in more command. “I want you coming with us when we travel across.” Both men turned to you with a curious look but you only kept your eye out onto the distant water. “We stayed a ways back so they wouldn’t feel ambushed, but if we are going to get them to say yes, then we shouldn’t shy away from the fact that they’ll be agreeing to fight beside your people.”

A deep humour in his voice with long exaggerated sound out of each word, “I am honoured, your grace.”

For once, that actually got a small smirk out of you. A lightness in your tone that tried to fight away and failed. “Now that just sounded wrong coming out of your mouth.” Tormund laughed as well, knowing only he was watching a far pair of eyes narrowing in this very direction.

Choosing to look as much in them as he could manage as he leaned down to you, “So what does a pretty crow like you prefer to be called?”

Rolling your eyes at such a jest, you fell not for the bait without knowing it was even cast. “Tormund, I am fairly certain it doesn’t matter what I say you will just continue to call me whatever term finds itself in your head.”

It would not be many of you, Jon, Davos, Tormund, Theon, Selyse, and yourself being escorted to the main land of Bear Island hoping it sent a message of civility. There was no real threat of enemy being given from House Mormont and yet as you stepped onto the deck of the boat you felt your heart race. It didn’t matter how many of you there were. An army didn’t save from a massacre the last time you went to a meeting with what was supposed to be an ally.

Still, you stayed on the opposite end as he did. If you didn’t know what to say in private then you were surely lost as to what to say to him in the fake quiet just out of others earshot. But you felt his eyes on you, and thus yours stayed attached to the waters ahead.

“Starting to tell who is used to being on a ship.” Turning to look at Theon, your eyes were slightly squinting from the winds in them but otherwise a little more calm washed through. You were perched against the back wall leading to the bow with both legs hanging over the deck and a hand resting casually on a rope by you. He gestured to your posture himself, “Don’t think I’ve seen you this relaxed in a while either.”

Theon leaned against the edge, his arms folded against the wood just beside where you sat looking out to the waters passing. “You forget, I grew up on an island as well. Spent half my time on ships going from White Harbour, to Dragonstone, to King’s Landing and back. This is nothing.”

Davos was the only other who found agreement in the breeze. Long time his job was travelling along waters but in the recent years of his life they weren’t in hiding from any eyes. At least he and your mother were used to keeping the other’s company by this point. You didn’t want her to be alone, but that didn’t mean you had a clue how to talk to her.

Both you and Theon stuck to looking out to the waters with little focus on any else, it was nice. For a moment, it felt like the days when you were both just teenagers not having to care about the politics around. “I forgot until I got there, how salty Pyke smelled. Even in the summer Winterfell was always so crisp and it wasn’t until I was on a boat did I remember that not being able to smell the sea used to be so odd.”

You managed to find half a smile in your heart, “I always thought anywhere would be better then Dragonstone. Only on the beach did it really smell like the sea, otherwise the further from the castle you go, the more it just smells like brimstone. The deeper into the trees you go the worse that gets.” You could still see her. Hoisted up onto the edge of a rock so she sat level with your height as you both looked down to where you knew deep tunnels were formed under the surface. She hardly left the main bounds of the castle, so Shireen always loved the smell of brimstone. To her it was like the scent of adventure.

Amused slightly, he asked, “You saying Winterfell smells worse then that place?”

No hesitation as your face grimaced in the memory. “No, I’m saying that King’s Landing smells worse then all it combined.” Theon looking curiously at you, but your eyes only kept in the distance as the land grew closer. “Too many people packed into too small of a city, everyone is poor the moment you leave the Red Keep and no one cares about it. Add a summer heat onto that and you get the worse smelling city you’ve ever come across. That I certainly don’t miss.”

“Do you miss anything about it?”

You were quick, tone dropping to something harsh. “No. I was always miserable there. Either I was being dragged away from my sister, or I was being dragged away from..” Swallowing thickly you tried to drop the weight from so high in your throat. “Constantly going from King’s Landing to Winterfell was awful. I was so miserable everytime I got back to the capitol and everyone knew it. Renly used to always say everywhere but Winterfell disagreed with me.”

“He was right.” Your eyes finally meeting. “Much as we try to tell ourselves otherwise, or how long we spent where we grew up, the North was our home. Where our actual family was.” Not a sea sick, but that weight dropped from your throat to your heart and the dizziness from it made you feel nauseous.

“Hard to remember that some days.”

It wasn’t home where you were both kept, it wasn’t home where you were trapped and tortured sometimes only done in mocking of the other. It wasn’t family that brought you back home, that wasn’t a place you belonged. That wasn’t the home what Robb once told you that you belonged in. Even if this was successful, even if you reclaimed it, it was hard to imagine finding a home there once more behind this loneliness.

“Do you ever wonder whether or not it would’ve been better if you left me there?” You didn’t look, you could feel a narrowed sharp gaze on you from Theon but you didn’t want to handle it beyond the swirling in your own mind. “Escape with your own life, and spare the spiral of death that’s done nothing but follow where I go now?”

The weight in his voice made you feel only more sick on the inside. “No. But do you know what it is I do wonder? Whether or not you’ve actually gotten past wishing you were still dead.” A stab in your mind pricked at something that was sharp and full of a sting behind your eyes. “For a long time with him, there was nothing. Took everything about who I was and killed it. Until he dragged me down to see you. And then the only thing that kept me trying to fight to stay myself was knowing that any day I could wake up and you would’ve taken your own life just to make him stop. So I got you out of there, got us out but then some days, I don’t know if I really did. I think you’re still trapped with Ramsay wishing you were dead.”

Truth be told, he wasn’t wrong. Theon knew what that pain inside you was, because he had watched it fester for over a year before you finally ran out into the freezing cold to escape it. But you were still in that place, reliving those nightmares from The Twins and waking up to the violence Ramsay would enjoy throwing your way. And ever since leaving all you did was drag that violence and burden along behind you to weigh down and hurt everyone else with.

And it was nothing but feeling selfish that made you want to jump into these waters and let it take you to the bottom forever. Who would still be alive were you to have stayed dead? If not beside Robb, then at least by taking the less cowardly route and end yourself before you brought this blood to others doorsteps. “There are far too many eyes on me at all times to get away with that now.”

To you it was meant as a joke, but to Theon it was anything but. “No. You’re just going to make the rest of us watch as you do it slowly over time.”

You didn’t argue. He didn’t elaborate. Theon was right but you had no defence, excuse or otherwise to refute it. The only good memories you had left, the only things you found to give any breathe in your lungs were marred in only doing it beacuse you were weak. At least that was what it felt like.

Bear Island was a far more beautiful Island then Dragonstone. Cliff sides of rock that were naturally carved into the thick trees surrounding each clearing of land and water that splashed against them or poured down from pools pocketing the surface. The air was as crisp as ever and the faint misting of water against those rocky shores poured back down onto the boat.

You always loved that mist. In the heat of summer it was a refreshing reprieve from how thick the air was that only ever faded the closer to King’s Landing you sailed. Calm waters in a dense and busy port that was as loud and crowded as it was hot. This wasn’t that, you jumped down from your perched place and braced both hands onto the edge of the boat to look over the coming Keep with wider eyes.

The last time you looked out to the water shining in the sun also painted in your mind, and you felt a twisting in your stomach and the freezing that followed as it bled out in minutes. Suddenly there was a lot less calm, and far more creeping dread inside that you could feel yourself growing dizzy from it’s volume.

As the ship finally docked, you inhaled with your eyes firmly shut for a moment before turning to rejoin the world. Meeting Jon’s eyes as you both made your way to the middle, there was a moment of just firm understanding for the meeting to come. Whatever this was, you had to do it together it was the only way.

He didn’t put a hand on you as he gestured politely for you to pass, but he could easily see the unusual amount of tension strung high in your shoulders. A few guards coming to greet you as Jon took the mantle up to introduce you both by proper name. Keeping it as unmessy as possible with titles now that you both know what of that loomed.

It was strange though, realizing for the first time you had never heard Jon refer to you as anything but a Baratheon. Hearing Stark felt wrong coming from him, but you weren’t sure why, not realizing it was just as strange for him to say it. You as a Stark felt like a different person then the one he knew for so many years, but yet in the quiet and dark you were exactly that same Baratheon he remembered.

If there was talking around you or Jon, neither of you really noticed it. Conversation scattered behind you both between four behind you, who other then now would never have conceived of meeting and ahead two people who knew each other far better then this hurtful silence had any right being attached too.

Tormund and Theon finding a strange array of things to talk about, both coming from culture’s with some of the most bloodshed focused of traditions. Davos and Selyse alongside them, much more quiet but still civil and calm. If any of them noticed the oddity that was the painful silence between you and Jon, none spoke of it.

Coming up to the steps of the castle, you tried not to glance beside you, not to notice the way the mist of the shores had his curls sitting a little less wild in it’s dampness. And biting your tongue with a glare to nothing trying very much to ignore the images in your head and memories your body was asking to relive.

But as he turned to you, if Jon noticed the intentions behind your already watching eyes he didn’t address it. Voice low and in a bit of comfort to your own, sounded the faintest hint of unsure. “Hope you and I know the Mormont’s as well we think.”

Easing those same nerves as you were led inside you nodded to the sword at his side. “I wasn’t the one who was trusted to be given their ancient sword.”

His own tone was more teasing, as was the glint in his eyes looking back at you. “And I’m not the one they followed into war calling a Queen.”

Your eyes now on the halls in front, missing the genuine smile you got from him. “Would be a bit strange if they started calling you a Queen, Snow.” That was a small jest he felt it had been a long time since he had heard from you. Always calling him that only when you were in your own gentle teasing mood, yet it was never even possible to match the levels he could dish to you in particular.

Still, something about how easily the lightness slipped from your mouth, felt like hope.

Alysane Mormont looked remarkably like a younger version of her mother. Tall and large with a bright look in her eye as she stood behind the one sitting in the desk. This one you heard of more, the youngest, Lyanna sat very small and young at only ten. Alysane was older, but seemed to be giving the youngest a chance at being in charge as she watched her carefully.

At least until Jon went to greet them both. Which was when the older one spoke up looking at you with a squint. “Never thought we’d see a Queen in our halls. Let alone a dead one.”

Her tone was light, but gods was the look and air shared between you and Jon anything but. You wanted to be intimidating, wanted to put on the best face but you knew their mother and you knew it wasn’t stilted formality the older woman had responded too.

Your own glance to Alysane with a raised eyebrow, “I never thought I’d wake up after dying. We both get to experience something new.” It was very easy to see her mother in her, letting her sister take the reigns but she watched with something like a fondness as you softened a bit. “I also know Dacey wasn’t given the same chance, and I’m sorry.”

Little Lyanna was as quick as she had been described. “It wasn’t you who killed her.”

You wanted none of that, looking more seriously at her. “No, I didn’t. But someone should take responsibility for it, and she called me Queen which means it’s me to take that blame.”

Her eyes narrowed with a strange look to you, as Alysane turned to look beside you. “You’re here, which means this is Jon Snow, I take it? The King’s brother.”

It was heavy between both of you, and his voice was rough as he spoke. “I am. I also served under your Uncle at Castle Black, my lady. I was his steward.”

Lyanna watched, but it was recognition in her sister’s eyes that was of interest. Glancing down only for a second to where the hilt of Longclaw could be seen, before glancing back up to look at him with something that certainly made the air feel a little more interesting. “Last I heard you were named Lord Commander after him. What’s Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch doing at our Queen’s side all the way here?”

You narrowed your eyes, as she certainly would know. But Jon didn’t play along with whatever game the ladies were trying to set up as he looked to Lyanna. “We’re here to ask for your help. I know Stannis Baratheon tried to pledge your house to his army, and I was shown your response, Lady Lyanna. Bear Island knows no King, but the King in the North. Whose name is Stark.”

Moment of weakness, your eyes flickered over to him. Standing tall and sure it was easy to see why he’d be chosen as Lord Commander. Even in deep quiet tones, he spoke as a leader.

“Now I may not be a Stark in name, but Robb was my brother, and the home and Kingdom he died for is being torn apart by the Boltons. And I also know that the same man who murdered him and shoved a knife in her stomach.” Jon gestured to you with something of a controlled anger in his voice and clear as day on his face. “Kept your Queen as their prisoner, and spent almost a year being tortured by them beyond anything you can imagine. Roose and Ramsay Bolton cannot be allowed to keep Winterfell, and as long as they do, the North will continue to suffer. With Robb gone, that means it is my duty to stop them.”

Unseen by most of the party, but as Ser Davos stood to the side there was a bit of a proud smile trying to fight it’s way onto his face. Jon was not quite as stubborn as Stannis had seemed to think.

The younger one glancing to her sister before turning back to the pair of you with her own doubtful eyes. “You mean to protect the North, but you bring wildlings into our land, and one into my home?”

An eyebrow raised on you, “Forgive me, my lady but it seems you might be misunderstanding what we are here for.” All eyes turned to you as you found something of a voice, “Jon and I are not here to ask you to make friends. The Free Folk and the Night’s Watch have been fighting each other for thousands of years and yet now there is an army of them on the mainland who followed Jon all this way because they understand this is more important then who our enemies were before.”

Something in you couldn’t let it passed. Something deep that remembered, as you sat against the bars in an unknowing shock, staring at the corpse of the man next to you. And in the worst of that moment, it was Tormund who came to sit at your side. Who helped you stand and regain your focus to do what needed to be done that day. “Both of these men fought against each other, murdered men on the other side of their fight but now they stand here together because they understand that if we can’t protect the North from each other then we cannot protect it from whats coming.”

A silence was thick in that room. “And what exactly is coming, your grace?”

You could see the visions and dreams of cold and ice but it was Jon who answered for you. “Summer is over, and winter isn’t just coming, my lady. It’s already here. And when the worst of it hits, so will the dead, and with them, the Others.” Both women shared a look, but there was no amusement in any of the eyes in the room standing before them. Jon’s own was filled with a haunting memory. “I went to Hardhome beyond the wall to bring the free folk south, because the Others are awake, and they’re building their own army. I saw them, I fought them, I even killed one of them and when it was all over I watched every single person who died stand up beside them.”

Stepping forward to the desk, there was an undeniable determination in his eyes that made both Mormonts almost shrink back from it’s intensity. His palms leaning against the desk to properly look the more defiant one on equal ground. “If we can’t protect the North from ourselves, then when the Others come, we won’t stand a chance. The free folk have attacked Bear Island many times over I know that, they held me prisoner in their own lands where at any moment he,”

He turned partially, gesturing to Tormund behind him, “or any of the others I was with were ready to kill me the second they realized I wasn’t on their side. But now he’s trusted his people with me, because we cannot fight a war amongst ourselves and expect there to be enough of us to fight the only one that matters. There’s no hiding from this. We have to fight, and we have to do it together. All of us.”

Alysane looked at you with a questioning gaze that you almost willed her not to bring up. Letting Lyanna prove her valour and stand her ground in making a choice for her people, and it was a relieving feeling when the small girl looked up at Jon almost impressed. “House Mormont has kept faith with House Stark for thousands of years. And we will not break faith today.”

Jon nodded, standing up straighter. “Thank you, my lady. But I’m not asking you on behalf of House Stark. I’m only asking you to protect the North we both grew up in, not for my family, and not for any oaths you swore to them. I’m a Northerner just like you, all I’m asking is you fight beside me as one as well.”

Your eyes slipped shut. You knew she was going to say it, and it was precisely why you wanted Jon to understand exactly what this was going to be. Alysane was the one who likely knew it, if not both the surely the now eldest daughter she would know. “Are you though?”

Jon turned his head to her, a confusion in his own eyes that slipped to a well hidden realization. If he were to be honest if you had asked, he had almost forgotten about that conversation. It was a little too easy, almost embarrassingly so to forget that conversation when he was torn between this coming wars and trying very hard not to obsess like an animal over how to fix things between you.

But as she spoke, you could feel all four pairs of eyes turn to you from behind as Jon looked at Alysane. Perhaps you should have warned them of this as well. “Only asking us a Northerner? The King in the North we chose was your brother. My mother brought our men to fight for Robb Stark against the Lannisters, my eldest sister was killed the same night the Freys and Boltons killed the King, and his Queen.” Her eyes were curious and it painfully reminded you of the knowing look Maege Mormont had given you when you realized she knew you were hiding being with child.

Your voice was a bit cracked, as Jon took a step back now closer to your side then he was when this meeting first started. Speaking, you tried not to think about how comforting being close to him currently felt. “If you would like Lady Alysane, Jon and I could stand here and show you the scars that killed us both if you are with doubt of our story or intentions, though it might be a tad indecent in front of your younger sister.”

They had heard rumours of you, but not of him and yet not a single one in your own group looked as if it were untrue or merely a joke. House Mormont was your best shot, and you knew you had to lay our cards out on the table as plain as possible. No matter how uncomfortable.

For a moment she looked taken back, “Your grace that was not..” She glanced between you both with something in her eyes that looked just like the awing fear many had thrown you and Jon at Castle Black and amongst the free folk. “It was not my intention to doubt, we have no reason to think either of yourselves would come to us with lies. My mother trusted you, and my uncle you.” Nodding to you then Jon respectively. “I merely mean he isn’t just asking us as a Northerner-”

You could still see two faces, one on Jons of a stunned feeling when you told him, and the other of Robb as there was nothing but confidence and love as he made it clear to all of his decision. You were quiet, and Jon was thankful you spoke for him this time. “Help us reclaim the North first. Nothing is as important as this fight, right now. The Bolton’s will soon know we are coming for them and we need as much of the North together as we can for when we come to their doors.”

The two Mormonts shared a look. Lady Lyanna looking up to both of you, “I can give you sixty two of my our own household guard, and whatever of our own men my mother can provide you with.”

Your eyes perked up slightly, as did a jolt in your heart. She was one you did not know the fate of. “Is she currently available to meet with ourselves?”

Alysane tilted her head in question, “She should be returning to the keep by nightfall, left us in charge while she rallied up men as soon a she got your raven, your grace.” You and her both looked at each other with a unique little moment of glee. Alysane had heard much of you, not just as a Queen, but as someone who her mother clearly considered a most valuable friend. “We can provide you all with food and room for the night if you are willing to wait here for her return.”

Grey eyes found yours, and in your single nod, Jon wasn’t sure but he seemed to sense exactly what it was you were saying. Or more, you seemed to understand his silent question and agreed. “You’re very kind, we would be glad too.”

A small comment from Davos, that it seemed, managed to make the little Lyanna smile a bit more like the child she was. “If these men are half as ferocious as you two, the Boltons are doomed.”

It was just as you were departing, did Alysane call for you once more. Turning back into the room you looked expectantly. “There is a man in your group, one who looks an awful lot like Theon Greyjoy.”

She said nothing else of the matter, but you didn’t even move to fully face her as you spoke with a quiet sternness. “That would be beacuse he is, my lady.” Asking why you would allow him here with his life you didn’t even blink. “It was the sentence given by both the King in the North and myself for Theon to be brought to him for execution. And now he stands by my side with his head intact. I will only ask you trust that means his crimes have been paid for, and mention it no more.”

It was that very one who was turned back to watch as you finally followed, and for just a moment you both looked to the other with a distant unsettled feeling. These people will have no idea just what he’d been through and how many times over it paid for his crimes. But as you nodded for him to move forward along side you, you figured that if they could trust wildlings through Jon they could trust Theon through you.

Nightfall seemed to bring storm clouds onto Bear Island. The gold of the evening fading out as you considered if it was worthwhile to bother heading inside. Not on the side of too dark, but the wind picked up as soon no doubt rain would splatter onto the waters you were looking out at in a matter of time.

Deepwood Motte was where you would descend on next and reports were still accurate, Ironborn likely still sat deep in the area and getting House Glover on your side would require a fight no doubt. It felt like a lifetime seen you’d seen any kind off violence on fair battle, more so making you wonder if you even had it in you anymore. This wasn’t the same unified fight as it once was, this was a scattered group desperate to unify before it was too late. Group of people who were struggling to find harmony when there was no question of that the first time.

Everything this time around already started in something broken. A cause that you had to convince people of, from two people who could barley look at each other by now. All this talk of what was meant and destined, but it all felt so disjointed the second you two were alone. You never used to be this way, it was always so easy being with Jon.

If you were being true to yourself, you were fairly certain that the night before this all kicked off was the first time either of you had ever even argued. Normally finding little to even disagree on, and it wasn’t something you enjoyed doing. You liked getting to the point or just shutting it out until it simmered but then he kept talking and you couldn’t keep it to yourself. You had spoken more today then the entire journey to get to Bear Island from Castle Black.

Maybe you could slink way in the rain, disappear and him to lead this fight as a true leader on his own and find success within that.

Enough time had passed all on your own that you hadn’t noticed until the sun begun to set. Didn’t notice that you had missed any appearance in a meal. Your back laid flat on the edge of a stone walls, just looking out to the lands and water, hoping when it rained you would melt with it.

Jon really should have known better. He knew Tormund was trying to poke at him, trying to set off something that the man knew he was holding back and yet he still let it get to him. Earlier that day, there was no other reason he was making such direct eye contact with him across the camp other then to burn that part of Jon’s insides that hated seeing someone else with you so freely.

He had never had that, and he still didn’t. He could, it didn’t seem like many objected to the idea and even noticed on his part. Uncomfortably he was well aware of the curious stares your mother had been giving him, and he had no idea how to feel about that. Like every Baratheon in your family, Selyse was incredibly hard to read beyond such a stoned expression and sharp but watchful eyes. Even moreso now that much of this group had stuck together since arriving, but like you, she was very quiet.

He had known the woman seemed to be pushing you to some ideas of destiny. It was that of a trick he did, but having no idea where you were, Jon focused enough. Just the right amount of energy that never stopped feeling bone chilling when it happened. If he did it now it would be even stranger, Ghost being on the mainlands and none would know it was Jon through his eyes. But he trusted them to keep peace without having to babysit.

You however, he was started to think he should just chain you to him for how often you slunk away on your own. Missing the offer of food from the Mormonts, no one knew where you were. And it was that damned orange haired smug smile of Tormund's as he looked to Jon, “Aye, she probably just needs the right kind of company. If no one else objects-”

Jon took it upon himself to stand abruptly from the table with a deep grumble as he glared. “No need. I’ll go.” Before walking out without waiting for any response. He never had to deal with what this was. It was different with Robb, neither of you chose that and Jon left before he was forced to watch whatever it turned into. Until he did, but from what he knew now that you’d seen a fair share of your own.

Jon knew why it was more difficult for you. Neither you nor Robb had any choice, it was a surprise to everyone and you made the best of what you were dealt. He wasn’t lying when he said he wanted you and Robb to love each other and he was proud his brother did find someone who made him happy. But no one involved got to choose, there was no freedom there.

But he never talked about Ygritte, and all you could gather was whispers from others and what the gods had unfairly chosen to show you. All you had seen, was Jon finding something with her that he could never have with you. Ygritte herself tried to argue with him that this was freedom, he could choose to do whatever he wanted and it didn’t matter what they were long as they had each other.

Freedom of course, coming at the cost of Jon’s well being. It took a very long time for him to admit the truth to himself and even now it felt pathetic to say. But it was her, or death. Nothing else. Prove your worth they said, and proving it was to give her the one thing Jon had spent years dreaming of sharing with you. Convince himself it was good just because of how it felt, telling himself because sometimes he saw the amusing sides of her that that was the true picture.

But then you asked him that final night and the last of his lies snapped and he let it all explode between the two of you. You had gone to the top of the wall before, looking out to the North one last time in the freezing cold. “I should take you to see how strange it looks from the South during the daytime in some places.”

“I think I already have.”

Posed on the edge of the bed he looked up to you, both of your minds trailing to that strange moment thousands of miles away from each other. Eyes wide before something uncomfortable sat in his chest and moved to his heart. Swallowing with a nod he dropped his head. “Right.” He didn’t in that moment know why he spat it out, but he did. “I didn’t love her. Ygritte..I didn’t love her.”

You paused mid movement, turning away from him as your brows narrowed, mumbling. “It isn’t my business if you did.” Jon trying to call your name, get you to look at him but you just shook your head facing away from him. “She was someone you could be with, could be together with. I wouldn’t blame you.”

Jon sighed, trying to get you to look at him but you just kept looking away. You weren’t malicious, or cruel, or even going for something with an agenda. It was an innocent, quiet question. “Why not? Love her I mean. Why not?”

It was unfair to let it out on you but he did. “You’re really asking me why I didn’t love her? You?”

Turning around it was obvious you were confused, but he barrelled on through your protests of confusion at his anger. “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved my entire life. Do you really think the second you’re gone I’m going to just fall for the first woman who comes along? That I forgot about you that easy?” You tried saying his name but he was getting louder, and he knew he needed to pull it back but it wasn’t really you he was looking at.

It was a far more defiant face who pushed him and pushed him all day long until she broke him enough that he relented, and then every support she gave him was in value of something Jon never was or wanted to be. An anger in her own eyes that you never even came close to looking at him with, and a combative attitude that was exhausting, and would constantly strip away at his own self worth.

Standing up, he saw your guarded expression as you barley blinked or moved only for it to look like her smug smirk that mocked him relentlessly until he was exactly what she wanted. “Spending every night having to put my own direwolf between us beacuse she’d spend the whole time trying to get close to me, mocking me for never sleeping with a woman just because it was the one string she could pull at and get a reaction? Are those the things I should have fallen in love with?”

You didn’t know these things, and he knew that.

“Or was it when every single person in their camp wanted me dead and the only way I could protect my own life, was to send Ghost away because I knew he’d never let her near me if he stayed? Or how the only reason I even could stand touching her was beacuse I kept seeing you in my head instead?” He was right in front of you by that point and you hadn’t moved what so ever. He wasn’t even sure you had blinked. “That’s the person you think I should've fallen in love with after you? A girl who didn’t respect a single thing about me, and was only letting me stay alive beacuse she took everything I had left to defend myself and made me fuck her against my will.”

He never said it out loud like that, and as soon as he did, Jon felt something twist inside of him he did not like. Something that felt sickening. And as you looked at him with soft eyes that he wanted to fall into, he instead let his head spin and skin feel filthy.

You softly muttered his name, “Jon..”

Jon had refused to let himself come any closer. Turning around and running a hand over his mouth looking at the floor before you. “Ygritte took everything from me that I always wanted to give to you, and then had me tricking myself into thinking it was real only as long as it kept me alive. And while I was lying to myself about being with her, you and Robb were murdered. When I finally got away, I tried to play off her feelings and say she wouldn’t hurt me because she loved me and it got me shot full of arrows and dreaming about you in a pool of your own blood only to wake up and find out it was real.”

Clearly you were trying to keep an even tone in your whisper. “Why not tell someone the truth?”

He glared at you, when you didn’t deserve it voice deep as it rasped out, “No one would believe me. A man of the Night’s Watch letting a wildling girl take advantage of him? The only person who would’ve cared about any of it was dead, and when I finally get her back in front of me, she tells me I’m wasting my time trying to love her again. You think that makes me feel good?”

You bit your tongue, and Jon hadn’t quite grasped until later that it was your own nightmares flashing through your mind, showing exactly why you weren’t worth someone like him. You had always held him in a higher regard then he thought he deserved, and he knew you were still doing it now. Only now it was with a lot more pain.

“I wasn’t trying to..I didn’t know..I’m sorry.”

It was tense in the air, and something needed to break before it all was thick enough to choke on. Jon did it first as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Neither of you looking at each other. “I know you loved Robb, and he loved you. I wanted you both to and I’m happy you loved each other when you had the chance. But I never wanted to love anybody but you, and I never will. So don’t stand there and tell me I deserved to love someone who stood against every kindness you ever showed me.”

You could only whisper you were sorry, before you walked out. And he hadn’t seen you until morning, a stiff, steeled expression in your eyes and posture. Jon felt a lot of regret, you didn’t deserve to be yelled at for the things Ygritte did, but you were nothing if not an expert at avoiding him these past days.

And it wasn’t until you two walked up to the Keep of Bear Island did he feel like he was slowly getting a bit you back. Now as he looked for you, natural instincts told him where to look. Along the edges of the Keep closer to the water where the setting sun lay and brushing storm clouds were swooping in from.

You always liked cliff sides and water’s edge. No doubt a time from growing up on Dragonstone, and so Jon begun searching along each corner for you, trying to run around in his mind figuring out how to ease you into an apology. How to make it better for yelling at you, even though a sinking part of him had a feeling that you would just forgive him without question.

Not wanting to risk making him mad, and he could only angrily think of how cruel Ramsay was to you to try and beat that little spark and tough fire inside of you down to nothing like this. And how he would even begun putting that flame back like you deserved. You brought Jon back both in life and spirit and he wouldn’t stop until he did the same for you, no matter how you chose to accept him in your life anymore.

Rounding one corner is when he spotted you, leaning back with your arms crossed against a pillar near a set of stairs as your eyes were trained hard on the road in the distance. Slowly Jon came up just behind you, seeing the horses in the distance and the galloping of what sounded like a fair number of them. “Where are the others?”

Glancing back to you, there was almost a hint of anticipation in your eyes that for a moment almost looked childlike. It was strange, both of you so far away having found something of different companionship in the two eldest Mormonts. Leaning his head a bit closer to you, rumbling a bit quietly in your ear. “Hopefully making sure Tormund doesn’t scar Lady Lyanna for life.”

You smirked a small bit, your mood having lightened somewhat since arriving. Even from what he could see, just being on the ship sent you at ease more. “From what I’ve seen I’m not sure there’s much that scares any of them.”

“There is one thing.” His voice low and serious, you both glanced to each other in a knowing that convincing these people to fight a war against their enemies is one thing. Making the rest of the North believe in the rest was another.

Your eyes softened a bit looking at him before you seemed to realize how long you had been, fluttering them back to the growing distance. “You were impressive back there. In that meeting. Leadership suits you.”

Unlike you, Jon felt no need to hide the returning look to you and keep it there for far longer then would normally be considered appropriate. “I’m glad someone thinks so.” Your posture stiffened for only a second with almost panic swirling in your eyes before letting it deflate in a shaking exhale Jon knew you were hoping he didn’t see.

The numbers that gathered were easily groups that were in the hundreds. The woman in front climbed down from a great horse, standing tall and large in stature with a harsh face that squinted as she looked up to both of you before settling on your own person.

Ascending the stairs together, Jon watched the woman look you over before a great smile came over her. “Gods be good, the rumours are true.” You stood a few feet away from her with as much composure as you always had before the larger woman came forward closer to look at you closer. “We never thought you’d be a face we’d ever be seeing again, your grace.”

Only in a single second, the larger woman barrelled you in a large hug, one that she almost laughed into and Jon could see something tight and relieved in your own grip. Pulling you back by your forearms as she looked at you, Jon clearly seeing a smirk plastered on both almost like family. If he were being honest, it felt like a reunion you should have had with your actual mother.

The woman with such a casualness, “And you still look just as shit as the last time I saw you.”

Your tone was light, something much more like a genuine smile coming over the rest of your face as you breathed out from a laugh, “Happy to see you’re still around to keep all those beasts at bay.” As you leaned in for one more embrace, you seemed to have whispered something to her as when the woman turned to look at Jon, there was already a realization in her eyes she was keeping to herself as you stepped back between them.

Her gesturing towards him with her head in a playful glint. “Now, you going to introduce me to the handsome lad or what?”

Coming closer to accept her now outstretched hand, “Jon Snow, my lady. I’m-”

The casual interruption with what she already knew already reminded him of the Old Bear. So nonchalantly would toss information at him Jon didn’t even know how the man found out. “I’ve heard all about you. You’re Robb Stark’s brother.” Stepping back he nodded as she glanced at him with a curiousness in her eye. “You also served under my brother up at the Wall.”

“I did. He was a good man, deserved better then how he died.”

You seemed to glance between them with a narrowed expression before turning to Maege with a more steeled expression once more. “I will go let your daughters know you’ve arrived back. Bring your men here up to speed while I’m at it.”

He didn’t say anything, but there was a look in Jon’s eye trying to pull you back to him. To stop you from running away but as you ascended the steps with a few of those who rode up with some familiarity, Jon was beginning to think he was going to have to corner you to just get you to stay in one place. Not realizing he had been watching for far too long as Maege stepped closer to beside him. “Now I know it’s not me that woman’s running away from.”

There was a curious pointed look in her eye that Jon didn’t respond too. Trying to speak through a vaguely nervous tick of clearing his throat. “She’s been through a lot, still adjusting to some things.”

Maege hummed as she looked at him for another moment before beckoning him to follow her up the steps. “It know too well it won’t help much, but I’m sorry about your brother.” His eyes flickered to the side to a knowing distant pain in the older womans. “Hearing your brother got butchered by his own men thousands of miles away from where you could even try to help. Awful way to die, awful way to find out they died.”

Turning down a path to overlook the waters you likely had just been waiting around she added, “Though, you two also know what that feels like first hand don’t you?” Jon’s heart skipped a beat under the hole above it to remind him. A bit of a chuckle left her at the rigid response given. “Brother was Lord Commander for a long time, I still know men there who keep me in the know. Should I even bother asking how either of you survived or is that why our jumpy Queen there seems so keen on not looking at you?”

Jon swallowed harshly, looking down as his palms braced gently on the stone wall in front of them brows narrowed. “I don’t know how she did it, or if she’s even sure it was her. But I’ve seen her scar and I know there’s no way she didn’t bleed out in minutes.” His voice was rough, and his chest felt heavy at the delirious dreams as he was unconscious seeing it for the first time. “Or why I’m walking around after getting a knife shoved in my heart, but we’re both here and we know as long as the Boltons are allowed to control the North we can’t protect anyone when they come.”

If there was only one thing that could truly haunt Jon in such a dread filled way it was that day. The sight of just how many free folk stood up beside the Others with glowing blue eyes. Staring one of them down feeling as cold and hopeless as ever, knowing that he could cut down as many as them as he could but with the numbers they awoke? If the North stayed this torn apart, Jon wasn’t going to be able to protect anyone.

All that was between them was the splashing of water against the rocks before she spoke up, quiet in tone but with a deeper conviction. “We all followed your brother into war before he he fought his first battle, chose him as our King after the Lannisters murdered your father. Because we believed in him. You lead these men and reclaim the North? They’ll follow you no matter what comes for us beyond that Wall.”

This was why you warned him, it was inevitable. “I’m not here to ask anyone as a King-”

Confidence seeped into her voice. Looking at him with a knowing glint that reminded Jon all too much of the Old Bear. “The King didn’t name you his heir against our will. The two of them came to us with no arguments. You’re Ned Stark’s son and you were his brother and that was all he needed be sure he wanted it to be you. They both did. They both knew you deserved what he had and if none of us thought the same it wouldn’t have been such a damn quick meeting to sign off on it.”

His heart screamed heavy at him, jealous of Robb for so much, for so long that the mere idea that in the end he wanted Jon to succeed him simply because they were brothers put a stop in his throat. Not arguing of politics or duty, but that he wasn’t just forgotten at the wall from his brother. He had missed Jon as much as Jon missed Robb, and in his death only could find one final thing to give to his brother hoping to bring him back home.

It was a weak argument, and she sniffed it out right as he said it. “You still have her, she’s still your Queen to follow.”

Maege smiled at that. “Aye, but she doesn’t want to be our leader. Knows as well as I do that no matter what people try to say, she isn’t her father. Holding that weight up by herself is too much for her, and I could take a guess what sorts of things the Boltons did to her, I think leading us all on her own would crush her. She and your brother worked so well because they were a team. She trusted him much as he did her to the point it’s easy to forget she’s not even a Northern sometimes.”

But what kind of King could Jon ever be compared to Robb? He couldn’t imagine any kind of admiration as he knew Robb had earned from these people, he was ready to lead them into a war of survival but somehow taking up Robb’s mantle as King was the thing that felt daunting.

But it’s what Robb wanted, and he knew it was what you wanted. You just refused to push him into something not knowing if he wanted it. You never pushed him into anything he may not want.

“You didn’t name Robb a King until he started winning battles. Least I can do is wait and see if I win my own this side of the Wall before I start thinking I deserve it.” Maege laughed, something under her breath muttering about you all being stubborn and he had an inkling he just may have started to sound like Robb himself.

There was quiet for a breathe, before she turned tune. “Alright, enough of that. Let me see it.”

Jon looked over to her with a confused expression before she nudged him on the arm, gesturing to his side. “The sword. Been some twenty years since I laid eyes on Longclaw, let me see the wolf.” Pulling it out from it’s sheath, Maege grabbed the hilt from him with a bright look.

The smile was wide as she turned the wolf head around to take it all in. “He made it after your own direwolf, he said. What’s his name?”

Jon nodded, a small grin on his own face looking over the hilt himself. “Ghost. When we found the direwolves, he was far away from the others, so quiet he never even made a sound. I have no idea how I even heard he was there.” His own memory fading back to when he first got Longclaw. Showing Ghost the hilt remade, and telling him with a grin how it was him. Even apart now only by a few miles of sea and land he found himself missing him.

Maege looking over the red jems as eyes with a fondness. “Gods, it is good to see this thing finally getting some use after all this time.” Starting to hand it back to Jon, it seemed he made a mistake with what he said next.

“It’s an honour, being given the chance to use your families sword.” The look she gave him now really reminded Jon of the way the Old Bear would look at him sometimes. Like the way he’d look him down as if to say to get your shit together.

She all but bashed it into his chest for him to grab. “Seven hells. Do you really think that man went to all the trouble of remaking the entire bear hilt, re carving it, finding jems for those eyes only beacuse he assumed you were borrowing it?” Rolling her eyes, there was a fondness in her eyes as she looked at him. “That sword spent over twenty years sitting up at the wall. Just mocking my brother beacuse it was just a reminder of how badly his son had disgraced this family.”

Shaking her head, she looked out to the water. A deep memory painting over her. “We all were sure it would stay up there until he died, and then it would just sit here in the Keep like some ancient artifact. But instead, he saw something enough in you not just to let you use it, but to give it to you.” Nodding to the hilt visible where it sat on his person. “He didn’t carve that wolf out so it could come back to us and just get re carved again. It was our families sword. Now, it’s yours. And whatever family you may decide you ever want. But don’t be fooled, Jeor gave you that beacuse he believed in you, and because you deserved it. You Starks seem to be pretty bad at accepting you’re allowed to deserve good things.”

If the emotional punch to the gut was noticeable in Jon’s hesitant pause, she didn’t point it out. But she did something that Jon had only ever been used to from you. So casually grouping him in with House Stark without a second thought because you never really understood the point of seeing him as anything but one of them. And that was a habit Jon knew for certain, Maege Mormont could have only picked up from hearing you, even after all that time, still group him in with everyone else no matter what the world tried to say.

You never shied away from the fact that he was a Snow, but you never once kept his identity in your mind separate from the Starks. Stannis Baratheon had offered him Lord of Winterfell to be an ally, and make him a Stark in name. Something for years he always wanted.

And yet as you had stood there, telling him that the North, you, and that Robb had so easily decided they wanted him to be King in the North if anything happened to him. And that not once in that offer did you ever push him to take it, or that you wanted him to be anything but who he is. The fact that becoming a Stark wasn’t part of Robb wanting Jon to be King, he thought to himself, meant more then being made a Stark by someone else.

Because Stark or not, to Robb, Jon Snow was his brother no matter what. And being King after him didn’t require a formal deceleration of becoming one of the family. It was strange for Jon at this point in his life to realize that the brother Jon always thought was better and got a better deal in life, truly loved him with no hangups or clauses attached to it.

It was a Southern King that said only Jon Stark could be Lord of Winterfell. But it was his own brother who wanted Jon Snow to be King in the North after him.

And for some reason, all Jon could think to do in that small moment by himself, was to smile. It was always odd in his heart how much you had always seen Jon for exactly who you knew he could be, but it was a whole other thing to start realizing that the North he grew up in, just might be coming to that same conclusion as well.

But as he stood there, the storm clouds still debating amongst their own if it should bring rain over the setting sun, he thought of almost nothing but Robb. He wasn’t there to protect him when it mattered most, but Jon knew he needed to do more to protect what of Robb’s was left.

Wherever his brother was now, Jon hoped that Robb trusted him with his wife. Because in the year since losing him, Jon knew you were left in a confused insurmountable amount of grief and pain that was only soaked in more blood and new torture. Leaving you in a darkness all alone, and someone needed to force you out of that pit before it took you away again forever.

You trust me with your kingdom, his silence spoke. Eyes slipping closed as he stood in the quiet, hoping Robb could hear his prayers. Now please, trust me with her heart. She fought in a war beside you, but this time, someone needs to be the one to fight for her, someone needed to stand in front of her, and tell her it’s okay to let me protect her.

You kept away from Jon because you were terrified of forcing things or feelings onto him that your tormented mind worried would no longer exist. But this pain between you was all out in the open now. You were honest and so was he. You needed someone to protect you instead of forcing you face these demons all on your own.

Jon hoped the crashing of water against the rocks, and the cold wind swirling around as it flew through his thick curls, was Robb answering his prayers with his blessing. Because Jon was going to do it anyways.

Walking to where you were to stay for the night, you felt mentally drained. The Mormonts were far too lively of a bunch to handle in your current state, and too many questions, looks, and stories being thrown around. Already before even reaching the door, you begun unlacing everything with the intent to throw it all on the ground like a petulant child.

But as you slipped into the door, you could see Jon leaning against the wall of the cozy room by the window. Your mind noticing the long grey shirt you normally never saw under the black and leather atop it, with some of his other things gently draped along the desk. Pausing without closing the door, you narrowed your eyes “I assume I’m in the wrong room.”

“You’re not.”

His voice was deep, but steady as his grey eyes were bright looking to you. Slowly you shut the door behind you, a confused furrow in your brows as you looked at him. Jon watched you with something so much softer then anything the past number of days, a look he was unafraid of letting you see in full opposed to the heavily guarded state you were still in.

Taking only a few steps in at a time, you slowly placed your own sword down beside his against the wall before finding yourself not knowing what to do. “Am I allowed to ask why in a place this big I can’t be trusted with my own room?”

Jon’s chuckle was deep, and a small smile full of a fondness as he met you more in the middle. Even as he was dressed down, and you still dressed properly you felt small in comparison. “Maybe you just can’t be trusted to get a decent sleep all on your own.”

A lightness in your chest burst out before you could even contemplate the playfulness in your eyes as you said it. “Funny thing to say, coming from a man who used to barley manage getting more then five hours half his life.”

He watched you for a second, stripping you down of those barriers without a word before gesturing for you to put your back to face him. Not considering that you just followed that silent command without any question until his hands gently started to undo the rest of your outer layers. Trying to look back at him confused, “I can do this part just fine, you know.”

The hum in your ear sent a small shiver down your spine as he rasped. “So why are you letting me?” You could see the edges of his curls in the side of your vision but you had no answer for that other then to stand in the quiet and let him.

When you were just a tinge lighter, Jon stepped closer, so lightly running his hands down your arms you almost felt lightheaded at the sensation. Somehow so warm against the cold of the night air, your body relaxed enough to find the courage. “Jon, about the other night-”

You almost gasped, feeling his chest press closer to your back, his voice rasping but soft, hands soothingly still running up and down. “Don’t apologize. You asked me a question, and I yelled at you for something you couldn’t possibly have known. You didn’t deserve that, so let me be the sorry one.” A weight in your chest sunk down, a sting behind your eyes as you nodded. “Good. Because I want you to listen to what I’m about to say.”

He was braver then you, but if you weren’t such a coward, you’d be temped to reach one of your hands to to grasp his. “Okay.” Only a breathless whisper came out.

Jon’s voice was as full of something heavy as you could feel in his heart. “Robb doesn’t want you to feel this alone. You loved each other, and you always will but he doesn’t want you to hate your life after him.” His hands stopped moving, but one of his thumbs continued to run across the fabric over your arm. “And you are not ruining my life by being here. I never thought I’d get the chance to even see you again, but now we’re both here. And maybe the gods wanted it that way, maybe it just is the way it happened to work out by chance but I can’t just stand back and watch you try to push me away because of what’s broken up here.”

One hand moved to gently tap at the side of your head, as you tried to pull away at the sensation. Only as you reached back to instinctively swat at his hand, Jon caught it in his, bringing it down to wrap your arm across your stomach still holding onto it, and pull you closer to him. “What I said, about you being with Ygritte I never would have....had I known I wouldn’t have never suggested it.”

Jon nodded against the back of your head, “Well now we both know. That’s what you were doing earlier right? Laying our cards out on the table for them to see, make sure they understand exactly what they would be getting into?” You nodded, your heart speeding up a bit. “I thought I lost you once, but this time I’m never going to stop fighting for you. You deserve to have someone who loves you, but if you don’t want it, if you don’t want me like this,” The hand on your arm sliding up gently to trace over the sensitive skin of your neck as you shook out an exhale. “I’ll never push you for anything, but we cannot hide from each other anymore. You need to tell me if you don’t want this, but not beacuse you think you don’t deserve it or because you wrongly think I don’t want you.”

You felt ready to cry if you were being honest, he made this too easy. To slip into a need to be close to him and not want anything else. “I will always love Robb,” Jon nodded as your eyes fluttered shut but when your heart didn’t steady you had to say it anyways. “But that never stopped with you, either.”

His hands on you tightened the slightest, as you let out a small sigh when his lips so gently pressed to your neck. Jon’s tone husky as he spoke into another gentle kiss, “Will you let me do something for you? Is it alright if I make you feel good?”

Heart about to explode, your mind so lightheaded you could pass out. Not sure if you could handle the roughness like that one night, not sure if it was a wolf at all you could take but you nodded. You trusted Jon.

He didn’t push you further, he wanted to be gentle it seemed. Running his lips so gently over your neck without ever pressing any firmer, and his hands didn’t grow rough in their touch as Jon gently pulled back enough to pull your shirt up and off your chest.

Dropping it where it lay, you shivered from the cold as he reached both hands down past your breasts to slowly run along the edge of your pants before pushing you to the bed, “Sit down for me. Let me take care of you.”

As you turned to sit, you could see the grey in Jon’s eyes was dark enough to look almost black as he carefully pulled the material off your body. Kneeling down before you as you were perched on the edge of the bed, he ran those same eyes all over your body with an intensity as you sat bare before him, still totally dressed.

Gently, your hands reached out. One running along the edges of his curls before dancing across the scratchiness of his facial hair, the other finding his shoulder as you sat up straighter. Your breaths growing in heaviness as you both watched the other carefully. Jon finally returning the gesture, running both of his hands along your cheeks before leaning up.

Your lungs stopped in the swiftness of the movement, your eyes fluttered shut only he didn’t close the gap. Only traced the length of your nose with his, keeping you so close you could feel his breathe until he could sense the nerves simmer back down inside you. Both thumbs running over your cheeks as he exhaled shakily. “Doesn’t seem real sometimes. Being allowed to have you this way. Spent all my life knowing I’d have to give you up and it never got any easier.”

Your hand ran through his hair more like a comb, nails raking smoothly along them but never tugging at each more wild tangle. Keeping his forehead pressed to you. “Do you remember what we talked about, that last night in front of the Weirwood?” Your brows narrowed trying to recall it, as you unintentionally drew his attention away as your nails scratched his scalp more. Jon pressed into you further, a distracted but satisfied hum deep in his chest almost like that of the wolf usually found at his side finding his voice again. “Talking about how we’d meet in a different life?”

Slowly, Jon started to move his hands down. Keeping just as close knelt before you, but slowly letting his hands run down your neck and over your shoulders as his voice was a gentle rasp. “We were way off, weren’t we? Castle Black is a far cry from Highgarden.” Tracing his fingers over the sides of your breasts you tensed at the spark of touch, “It’s also far too cold to be summer. But maybe this as good of a new one as we will get.” With a touch as light as a feather he ran his thumbs over both your nipples, almost jumping at the feeling.

Your eyes opened to drift down to his shirt, the edges just far enough that you couldn’t see the mark over his heart even though Jon could see the one on your stomach perfectly. Your eyes slipped back shut however, as his rough hands more fully grasped at your breasts, and the spark underneath swam more throughout your body and into your blood.

Sighing out high pitched, one of your hands slipped from him to grasp at the sheets below while the other wrapped more around the back of his neck into his curls. The movement naturally pulling your chest better up to his own level so one hand of his reached to hold steady at your hip before moving back to the task at hand. Opting to press his lips lightly to your collarbones.

Moving down slowly until the hand on one breast twisted so he could pull your nipple between his fingers as his mouth gently nibbled at the other. Your gasp far louder then the quiet of the room but it only spurred him on to bite a little harder, the other hand twisting a little firmer.

His last touch was so desperate, so raw and rough, that you felt dizzy in his arms this time around from how almost teasing it felt in comparison. Groping a little greedier as his lips found the same path until you let out a needy hiss at a harsher bite. Pulling back though, you gripped his hair a little tighter at the loss but Jon only gently shushed you. “Lay down for me,” Trying to move to the main part of the bed he pulled you back by your hips, climbing up only enough to push you to lay down where you sat. Legs dangling off the side of the bed. “No, no, stay just like this, right here.”

Kissing your neck gently you couldn’t tell if he was trying to be soft with you or if this was just a true cruel tease to draw out on your body. “Jon,” Holding back a whine as he let his mouth trail back down to your breasts this time with more soothing presses of his lips and tongue to soothe the stinging bites he left. “Can I-”

“No.” Your eyes shot open in surprise, but he only moved finally down between your breasts to kiss along your sternum. His facial hair scratching along your skin, the rawness mixing with his gentle touch making you want to whine. Barley letting his lips leave your skin long enough to speak. “I don’t want you to do anything,” You could have cried a how lightly he ran his lips along the scar before pressing a kiss to the very top of your mound. “I just want to taste you.”

You swallowed heavily, his hands moving to your thighs as you felt a strange beating in your heart like nerves. “I don’t..why would you-”

Trying to soothe your nerves he rasped, “We’ve done this part before, darling.” You could remember the feeling, but it was so sudden, so animalistic you could barley comprehend it at the time in between the shock of him even standing before you. “Am I the only one to ever do this with you?” When you nodded, he kissed the same spot before kneeling on the ground where you could feel his breath between your legs.

Jon kept it to himself, but he felt proud of himself for still being able to find ways of being your first after all these years apart.

Slowly moving your legs to rest over his shoulders, Jon grasped at your hips to keep you steady before kissing a path up your inner thighs. One side, then the other as you let a needy whine out. Jon never once wavered, keeping his mouth always attached to something between your legs until a small kiss was left to your clit. The second you cried out at the feeling, the desire spilled over for him.

Jon sucking your clit with his own need this time, before moving to run his tongue flat down along your folds. Humming in his throat as he licked right back up as he held your arching hips in place. Eager brushes gently at your clit in between nibbling grasps between his teeth until you were shaking in around him and you were soaked from it. Those same gentle brushes of his tongue moved back down, and finally letting him move his mouth to your cunt as he wanted.

This time, it was a bit more as you recalled. His facial hair burning between your legs as he kissed and licked inside of you. Only instead of a starving, vicious wolf, he was licking and drinking everything you granted his mouth as if between your legs was treasured oasis crafted only for him.

Your head fell back into the sheets as you moaned, small whines along with it of his name as your hands grasped the sheets beside you. Between your own breathlessness, all that was heard in the room was the soaking sounds of Jon’s tongue inside of you.

Never rushing it, never even trying to push you to an orgasm. Only drinking between you with a slow, steady pace that had you trying to not let tears fall out from how good it felt. Letting a hand dance up to gently run though his hair, he held a bit tighter and made what felt like a vibrating growl into your cunt at the sensation you tested the waters and did it again, to the same reaction.

Moving your hips to pull more into his mouth you were almost lifted slightly above the sheets as you cried out, the core inside of you burned so hot and twisted so tight but he just kept such a slow pace, such a leisurely taste that it never reached it’s peak just when you thought it may.

Your breathing almost a faint hyperventilating as you almost couldn’t get any air he pulled it all right out with each brush of his tongue that ran along such sensitive walls. His nose nuzzling against your clit that had you cry much louder, back arching more but he just ran his tongue inside of you greedier then before.

This was for you, but it also was for him truly.

You weren’t really sure how long he kept you there, but it was a while. Quite a while, like he couldn’t stop himself from leaving between your legs. Each time you were poised at an orgasm he would pull back, slow down until you calmed down in his touch and once more his mouth would return to licking you back to that peak and take it away again. You already had lost count how many times he had done it.

It was long enough that even in the cold air, you felt a sweat forming over your body as you knew there too were tears at the side of your eyes spilling over. “Jon, please, gods please you’re so good..”

You weren’t even sure what you were saying but it made him shudder against you. Finally, in what felt like the slowest growth of your orgasm yet, this time as Jon’s mouth and tongue coaxed you to that edge he let you fall off it. Your core snapping with a pleasure of only his name and his arms keeping you pressed firmly against his mouth.

You writhed against him as the sparks jolted your entire body and he just kept between you, taking everything you gave him with greed until you were jumping at the stimulation. Finally, Jon pulled away, kissing your clit, then your mound and once more your scar before leaning up over you.

Hovering just above, his eyes were blown wide open and pitch black, his own lips swollen and soaked as just looked down to you. “Jon..please..kiss me?”

Eyes closing, he shuddered before shaking his head no. Swiftly moving up the bed, Jon pulled you into his arms, laying more on his side and keeping you cuddled into his chest while you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. His voice was raspy and deep, northern accent strong and thick as it slurred together into your own neck. “If I kiss you now, I’m going to lose it.”

Running your hands through his hair, your brows narrowed. “It’s okay-”

“It’s not okay.” Sighing out as he clearly was trying to keep something contained as you only cuddled in his arms, him trying not to push you right back down and let his cock fill up your soaked cunt that very second. “Rest for me, darling. Just for tonight.” If he was talking to you or himself, it was difficult to tell as he mumbled into your hair, “I’ll always take care of you.”

It was easy to fall asleep in his arms. Jon was warm, and never once let you out of his grasp. Keeping you in a safe bubble only encompassed by him.

Jon wasn’t lying, he knew if he kissed you while you were bare in his arms, in a bed after already having spent well over two hours tasting you? He would have shoved you down onto the bed, spread your legs wide and fucked you deep, as many times as it took until he had absolutely nothing left to spill inside of you, but he wanted to take his time. He already took you like an animal, now he wanted to ease you back into it with a tenderness, with love.

Despite trying, he, himself didn’t sleep very much that night. It was hard to sleep when he was too busy enjoying how soft and pliable you were in his arms. In your sleep, your hand drifted up to rest along his heart and he pressed a hand there to hold you against him gently. Kissing your hair once more before giving himself a chance to at least try to get some sleep. One thing had not changed since your early years together at least.

It still took an immense amount of will power for Jon to treat you with a gentle innocence when you made the wolf in his blood run hot and possessive at all times.

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

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mychoombatheroomba · 3 months

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Better This Way

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 13

You're both better off this way. At least, that's what you try to convince yourself of.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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As much as he stared at it that night, the ceiling of the barracks held no answers for Leon. No advice. Just roof paneling and shadows, the sort of bland nothingness that he could get lost in, that his mind would give shape and form.

He didn’t even have to wait for dreams to relive this newest shame. Shame, confusion and all manner of other emotions that ran through him. There would be no quieting his mind. No escape from it. All he could do was try to make sense of it all.

You’d kissed him. You had been the one to lean up, to initiate it. He was sure of that. He was sure that he’d kissed you back.

He was also sure that you’d stilled against his lips just before he’d pulled away.

What he had to take time to decipher was the look you’d given him when he pulled away. There had been no change - no sign that you were surprised by his actions. It hadn’t been anger or hurt. It hadn’t been anything at all. You were somewhere else - detached from yourself. The same way you would look when Leon asked a question you wouldn’t answer, he realized. Somewhere safe.

You’d retreated just as he had.

You just hadn’t flinched away from him. That was what really ate at him: the fact that you’d opened up to him in a way he’d wanted so desperately, and he’d gone and fucked it up. All for the memory of a woman who’d used him. Betrayed him. A woman he’d only known for a handful of hours.

A woman who, when the time came, still chose him over her mission.

Sleep found him out of necessity, at some point in the night; the kind of sleep that felt like he blinked and then it was time to get up. Still, when he did push himself out of his bunk, dragging a hand across his face to ease the weariness from himself, Leon had come to a conclusion:

He shouldn’t have left it like that.

He couldn’t leave it like that.

And so, when breakfast came, he made his way to where you were sitting, even as each step made his insides jumble. There was tension between the two of you, big and real enough that Leon could feel it pushing and pulling at him, driving him away and urging him forward.

“Can we talk?” Leon’s voice was low, so the rest of the mess hall couldn’t hear.

Even so, you looked up at him like he’d just shouted the events of the previous night to the heavens, your eyes flitting around like you were checking that no one had heard him. Or maybe you just didn’t want to look him in the eye. After last night, he couldn’t blame you. It was hard enough for him to be standing there, but he needed to do this. He owed it to you as much as himself.

He would extend the olive branch. It was up to you to take it, now.

When you finally met his eyes and let the gaze linger, Leon wondered for a moment if you would just refuse him. You had a right to, he supposed. He would deal with the grief if that was the case.

“About . . .” you didn’t speak it into reality. Didn’t need to.

Leon just nodded in response. Felt his throat go a little dry.

You looked at him then, and Leon wished he could say he knew what was happening in your mind. He wished he could find his own words more easily. He wished for so many things, and many of them began to crack and spider-web when your eyes hardened. “Don’t know what there is to talk about. I fucked up. Won’t happen again.” Your words snagged on something - anger, Leon supposed. It wasn’t directed at him.

Whatever it was, the thread it pulled loose left Leon feeling like he was coming apart at the seams. He said your name, and the sound of it made your jaw clench. “You didn’t do anything wrong-”

“Yes, I did,” you countered, and Leon knew he wasn’t the only one unraveling. “Just . . . just give me time. Let me sort myself out. Then we’ll talk. Okay?”

Your tone gave him pause, because you sounded so genuinely overwhelmed, even with how quiet you were making sure to be. You’d never pleaded with him for anything in all the time he’d known you, and seeing it now, Leon realized just how shaken you were. So, even if it wasn’t what he wanted, even if everything in him was demanding he set the record straight, Leon nodded.

“Okay.”

He knew what it was to need to be alone, after all. Even if you were the one who had broken him free of that need, he would respect it for you now.

Still, that night when he found the training yard empty of you, something in his heart twinged.

Major Krauser - or whoever was choosing the tracks back at the radio station that night - either had a cosmically, ironically bad sense of humor, or the universe really just wanted to kick Leon while he was down. That was what he decided as he heard the Beatles playing from the bunkhouse radio.

“There’s a shadow hanging over me-”

“Oh, yesterday came so suddenly-”

Of all the days the bastard decides to choose a new station . . .

Leon listened to the song as he took up a knife and began running old drills, imagining an opponent in front of him. Imagining you.

⧫⧫⧫

You hadn’t realized just how much you’d come to rely on Leon Kennedy in these last few weeks. That harsh reality came crashing down on you as you returned to your solitude. You’d come to enjoy his company, but that was obvious, wasn’t it? The problem was that you’d come to enjoy it too much. Enough to ignore sense and kiss him.

Time would help. Time would be what you needed to get your emotions under control, so that the two of you could get back to preparing for what actually mattered.

At least, that was the plan.

So, you trained alone just as you used to - or asked your squad mates when it became necessary. “Not going to be with the pretty boy tonight?” Valeria asked when you approached her.

Any response to those kinds of questions was brief, because you didn’t want to think about it anymore than you had to. “Not tonight.”

You knew that you were leaving him out to dry - especially with assessments approaching. Maybe it would be good for him, you reasoned. Maybe it would force him to branch out - seek other help, if he needed it. You didn’t have all the answers, after all. You wouldn’t always be there to offer advice, and what were you all being trained for if not to be able to adapt on your own? Leon was skilled. More so than he gave himself credit for. He would be fine. Still, as the days went by and Krauser instructed your unit on what you would be doing, you found yourself wanting to reach out. To give him some hints about the storm that was coming.

Cowardice stopped you. You wanted to give it another name, but you knew deep down what it really was. Cowardice and the memory of what it was to be made alone instead of choosing it.

This was for the best.

If you could forget your feelings, then you both would be safer for it.

Easier said than done, you realized, as those days went by and, in those quiet moments, you would find yourself lingering on how Leon’s body had felt atop yours. Or how soft his lips had been. You longed for that feeling in the late hours, even as it gave your guilt more power over you. More than that, you longed for Leon’s smile. His laughs. His quick wit. His presence.

Him.

And that was exactly why you felt you had to stay away.

“You with us?” Krauser’s question one day made you realize you weren’t hiding your thoughts as well as you’d hoped.

“Yes, sir,” you nodded, only then realizing that he was holding something out towards you. A dark shape with straps and two glass lenses. A gas mask, you realized. So similar to one you’d seen before. To one you saw almost every night.

“It’s called ‘at attention’ for a reason.” Krauser was eying you like a puzzle to be solved. It set you straight quicker than anything else could.

“Yes, sir.”

Whatever he was searching for in you, he didn’t seem convinced that he’d found it. Still, he gestured towards the rest of your squad, all of them filing in through a metal door. Darkness waited on the other side. “Fall in.”

At least it was an easy order to follow.

⧫⧫⧫

The bruises that painted Leon’s skin told the story of the following days - days spent pushing himself to his limits. You wanted time, and he would give it to you. After all you’d done for him, it was the least he could do. Even if every day that passed made him want to speak to you more - to clear the air. Even if your avoidance gave him some selfish anger. Training was the easiest thing to focus on, so he threw himself into it completely.

He hadn’t fully realized just how proficient he’d become with a knife - when he was up against you every night, there was a constant reminder of how much further he had to go. Now that he was just fighting his own squad, each day was filled with more success than failure - more victories than defeats. Leon felt like he couldn’t even savor those victories. Not fully, because there was no one to share them with at the end of the day. No one pushed him to become even better.

So, part of him was almost grateful when Alenko approached him. Another part of him wanted not to be bothered. The man was older than him, but not by much - square jaw, dark eyes and close cropped hair befitting a soldier. He sported his fair share of bruises, too, and Leon guessed that was why he ended up finding his way to Leon in the training yard on that second day of solitude.

“Not working with the Sergeant?” Alenko asked, and Leon hoped the frown he made didn’t give away too much.

“No, not lately.”

Alenko didn’t seem to read much into the answer. “Well, if you’re looking for a sparring partner, I could step in.”

Leon paused, struck by how little he wanted to say yes. Still, he ended up nodding anyway. He needed practice against a real opponent. Even if, in the end, he wound up winning more often than not against the soldier. The last fight of the night ended with the soldier straining against the ground, and Leon holding his arm in a lock you’d used on him so many times in the past. “Hell of a showing, Kennedy,” Alenko complimented, taking the hand Leon offered when he let him up. “Guess all that work’s been paying off.”

But it didn’t feel like it was. Not when the dreams went on, reminding him of all that he’d failed to protect, and all that stood to be lost.

So, on that third day without more than a distant look from you, Leon went in search of someone who could teach him something new - who would know how to point out the flaws in his fighting and help him become better.

Major Krauser, when asked to spar, grinned and Leon was reminded of that hard truth he’d learned so early in training. “Careful what you wish for, rookie.”

Those bruises that Leon had already acquired were given like company all too quickly, and Leon found his eyes wide and his heart beating fast as the Major circled him. He’d fought Krauser before. Everyone in his squad had. That didn’t make this time any easier. There was never a chance in hell that he’d win, and he knew that going in. Still, he found himself getting angry with each defeat. His frustration had him baring his teeth, shoving himself off the ground and attacking again.

Or maybe it was more than the frustration of losing over and over. After all, he’d long since grown used to that feeling.

“Ah, you’re getting sloppy,” Krauser observed, when Leon swung a wide attack at him - one the Major easily dodged. Leon was punished for the reckless attack with a kick to the side, one that cracked hard against his lower ribs. “Thought you wanted to fight.”

Leon answered with violence and was met with it in equal measure.

And then he was grinding his teeth as a blunted knife was driven into his gut.

“Focus!” Krauser hissed, pressing the knife into Leon’s stomach harder before backing away, punctuating his command with steel.

The rough treatment made Leon’s anger flare, but he didn’t attack. He knew that Krauser was baiting him. Instead, he waited, watching as Krauser switched to a reverse grip. He loved that grip. It fit him, too. To Leon, it seemed more vicious - just the way Krauser liked to fight.

He brought that knife down in an overhead stab, and Leon moved. Ducked when Krauser slashed at him.

Leon brought his knife across for an attack at the Major’s side but knew mid-swing that it wasn’t going to hit. That he’d made a mistake.

Krauser caught his forearm and Leon’s eyes widened as he saw the knife coming at his throat. His hand braced against the Major’s, stopping it. Leon’s eyes flit about, looking for where was open. Where next to attack.

He wasn’t even really sure where he was going for, but whatever it was, Krauser stopped him with one hand on his wrist, the other moving like lightning to his neck. And over the glinting steel, Leon’s commanding officer looked disappointed.

“You don’t get to choose to have a clear head in a fight. You either set your shit aside, or you die.”

“I know.”

“Do you? ‘Cause you’re sure as shit not here.”

Leon looked down, his brows lowering as Krauser stepped away. He was here, and that was the problem. He was here in a place he hadn’t chosen, training for a fight that had been forced on him and doing it all without the support of the one person who understood it all. So, yeah, he was pissed. He was pissed, but Krauser was right. He couldn’t let it become a hindrance to him.

“Sorry, sir,” Leon breathed.

The Major just shook his head. “Don’t be sorry, just fix it.” He sighed, rolling his shoulders as he studied Leon. “You, your Sergeant . . . feel like a goddamn broken record.”

That caught Leon’s attention, sure as a favorite song. “Sir?”

Krauser, for the first time, seemed genuinely exasperated as he spoke. “Same thing I’ve been repeating since Finland. Thought I was finally getting through, but then lately it’s been more of the same.”

It was a statement that had a thousand questions growing off of it. Even so, even with all of them, Leon knew with certainty which one he was going to ask first. “You were there? In Finland?”

Krauser’s pale brow furrowed. “Thought you two traded horror stories?”

Leon pursed his lips, more than a little troubled by the fact that Krauser knew. “I’ve . . . heard pieces of it. Did you see-”

“What? Bioweapons?” Krauser seemed to read Leon’s mind. “No. Just the aftermath.” The older man seemed to make up his mind on something before he went on. “We lost contact with the base up there, so they sent us to investigate. All we found was fire, bodies that didn’t look like men and one survivor bleeding out in the snow outside.”

The words set a chill in Leon’s blood. You’d never said outright that you were the only survivor of what happened. He could have put two and two together, he supposed - you hadn’t made a claim to know anyone else on base, and you hadn’t spoken of your past comrades. Still, hearing it outright . . .

“I pulled ‘em out of there, gave my report, and then the government handled the rest. Anything else isn’t my business to tell.”

Leon nodded. He wouldn’t want to learn all the finer details from anyone but you.

“All this to say: both of you need to focus on the here and now. You especially, because I’m not going to give you any special treatment because of what you’ve been through, or because you showed up here a rookie cop without a day of training.” It wasn’t true, but Leon knew Krauser wasn’t talking to be correct. He was trying to make a point. And that point found its way home.

“I can handle whatever you throw at me,” Leon resolved. He didn’t flinch when Krauser grinned.

“That’s what every rookie says. We’ll see if it’s true.”

Krauser could be as skeptical as he wanted. It wouldn’t change the fact that Leon had been through this much already. He’d survived what no one had any right to. He could pass whatever tests Krauser had planned. And he could give you time if you needed it. He could bear being alone for a while, and he would bear whatever you decided to make of what was between the two of you. So long as you could be there for each other in some way, that would be enough. Even if it was just offering advice on how best to survive in this terrible new world you were both living in.

⧫⧫⧫

Leon rose bright and early the next day with the rest of his squad to an announcement. Krauser greeted them all before breakfast began, his beret a bright red against the lights illuminating the dark.

“You’ve all made progress. Some more than others. Now, it’s time to see if you can put what you’ve learned to use.” Leon braced himself. His whole squad did. They all knew what was coming next. “Now, normally, you’d be tested to see if you’re ready to move up to the next stage of training. Firearms, weapons maintenance, the works. Pass or fail. But that’s Army. This is STRATCOM, and you’re all very special students, aren’t you?” His smile was as big a warning as they would ever get that what was to come would not be easy. “They want the best, and the best get more difficult tests. Those tests begin right now. Consider every second of the next forty-eight hours to be go-time. Everything you do will be measured and evaluated. If, at the end of it all, you’ve done well enough, then congratulations! You’ve gotten through a taste test of what’s coming your way. Are we clear?”

“Sir, yes sir!” the unit responded. As if there was any other answer.

“Good. Now, grab your gear. We’re going for a ruck.”

And so the day began with a run and without any breakfast. It set tempers high, but everyone knew better than to let it get to them, now. This was a test, after all. One of resolve. Leon paced himself as best he could, glad of the cool morning air if nothing else. He used the opportunity to try and prepare for what might be next.

“Fitness, marksmanship, combat. Everything he’s taught you so far . . . and maybe some things he hasn’t.”

That was what you’d told him about the assessments. What you’d been preparing him for. He was grateful for those nights spent at the range, or in the training yard as the day went on. He found himself focusing solely on the task at hand as he disassembled a rifle and put it back together in record time or fired off a near-perfect round of shots into the targets down range. He was doing well. All of his squad was. They’d been run hard, but it was paying off, now. In those first few hours, things didn’t seem like they would be so bad.

The thing that gave Leon pause was when he realized you weren’t at lunch.

He’d made a habit of looking for you over the last few days, even if he was a little embarrassed to admit it. It had been mostly to see if you were ready to talk at last, and in those four days, you had remained seated with your squad, eating silently. Now, though, there was an empty spot where you usually were.

And an empty table that your squad usually occupied.

“Where is everyone?” Williams asked, picking up on the same thing that Leon had.

“Maybe they’re running training off-base?” Alenko offered.

“Or maybe something’s up,” Leon murmured, feeling suddenly on edge.

He searched for you and your missing squad mates as afternoon drills went by - eyes scanning the base as his unit faced each other down in sparring matches. He almost lost one such match, he was so focused on where you might be.

Then came the second run of the day, this one longer and under the hot midday sun. No one complained, they just ran through the exhaustion as they had been trained to, and Leon kept your words in mind. “Maybe some things he hasn’t.” He kept an eye trained on the tree line, looking out for movement. When there was none to be found and everyone made it back to base well enough, that feeling of anxiety didn’t leave.

Especially not when he found that you and your squad weren’t at dinner, either.

The day was wrapped up on the obstacle course, the time there taking up what would normally be time Leon spent training with you. By the time lights out came around, Leon and the rest of his fellows were well and truly drained. It was all shaky legs and hunched backs as everyone made their way back to the barracks, and even Leon who dreaded sleep felt it pulling him down into his bunk. With no other choice but to lie down, Leon let himself lie back against the uncomfortable blankets and pillow, his body relishing the moment of respite.

His mind, though, was alight.

Even as rest tried to take him, Leon fixated on Krauser’s warning. “Every second of the next forty-eight hours,” he’d said. He’d promised no moments of safety, and this was the one time of the day everyone was forced to have their guard down.

So, he waited. He fought against the heaviness of his eyelids, trying to see if any shapes moved in the dark.

Nothing.

He cataloged the space in his mind. Six windows, two doors. Twelve beds, nine of which were occupied right now. He watched the doors as best he could. Kept an ear open for the steps of whoever was on fire watch at the moment - something Krauser admitted to being mostly pointless, but for getting in the habit of having someone keeping an eye out. It was Shinoda now, Leon remembered. The soldier gave him a few false jolts of adrenaline as he passed Leon’s bunk, but it kept the rookie awake, he supposed.

Still, nothing.

He wished you’d told him more of what to look out for. What to expect.

“Well, giving away everything would defeat the point of the test.”

He missed your little teases like that. He missed getting you to laugh, or when you would make him laugh in return. Maybe, when he passed this test, you would be ready to talk. Maybe you would kiss him again-

He jolted awake.

When had he fallen asleep?

How long had he been out?

The barracks were still dark. The beds around him still filled. No sound but the occasional muttering of someone in their sleep . . .

. . . No sound but that. Not even the footsteps of the man on watch.

Leon sat up, eyes straining to see in the dark.

He didn’t see anyone patrolling the barracks. What he did see, as his eyes adjusted, was the tiny stream of light as one of the two doors opened. A shape hovered just behind it, and even if Leon couldn’t make out the face, he did see that light reflect off of two glass lenses, right where the eyes should be.

Then he heard a clink . . . clink clink against the floor.

“Everyone up!” he called, every nerve in his body humming with newfound energy.

The rest of the recruits barely began to stir before there was a pop. Then, for a split second, Leon smelled something decidedly chemical.

His eyes went wide just in time for his skin to start to burn.

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A/N:

Oop, jumpscare.

That fight between Leon and Krauser was also lifted from the opening flashbacks of RE4 where they're training together!

Shoutout to Yesterday by the Beatles for being the in-world song for this chapter, while the song I listened to while writing was "Where Did Your Love Go?" because Dawid just gets me, ya know? He gets the angsty vibes.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #jack krauser #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #between the bones #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x you #no y/n #angst

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