#the angst mines have other tunnels

[wosoluvrr]

sorry about the blood in your mouth, i wish it was mine || a. russo x reader (2)

summary: you reconcile with the girls before heading to the hospital with alessia.

warnings: some angst, some sweet stuff, a few curse words here and there, insinuations of smut but no smut if you catch my drift

a/n: hi! part 2 as requested :)! thank you for the love on the first part (which you can read here if you're behind ;)), it was all very sweet. you're all wonderful. do let me know if you're interested in some singular stories or more multiple parters, (and with who)! i do have an esme morgan fic nearly done, though! anyways, i hope you enjoy this one all the same. as always, all my love 🤍

to your dismay, the match ended just before alessia and you could make your way to the hospital, the girls pouring in from the tunnel looking for you. the clash against united had ended as a stalemate, the frustration and dissatisfaction from their performance seemingly hanging itself in the air as they came upon the two of you.

it was clear some of them were upset with you, their jaws clenching and posture painfully reserved, with others more indifferent to your outburst. however, despite any feelings of frustration, there was a sense of relief on each of their faces; steph being the first to commit herself to wrapping you in her arms, her hands protectively holding your face against her as she noted how scared she'd been for you. lia joined next, slender fingers pressing themselves into your back and squeezing your arm in reassurance.

the guilt was practically seething from your skin, eyes glossy as you stumbled over nearly a million apologies and accepted each of their hugs. alessia watched quietly from the corner, mumbling something to beth as she left to collect your guys' things from the lockers in the room over.

"does it hurt as bad as it looks?" kyra asks, brown eyes trailing from your nose down to your lips as she winced at the sight.

"it doesn't feel great," you laugh and put your hands on your hips, "but it certainly can't top the pain of that glass bottle you shattered on my foot."

"i wouldn't have dropped it if caitlin hadn't of jumped out of nowhere and scared me!" she exclaimed, arms crossing defensively.

you playfully push her as her cheeks flush crimson, caitlin laughing and filling katie in on the story of what had happened a couple years ago when you had come to visit them in australia. it almost felt a little like normal, the small talk conversations easing your anxiety as you reveled in being able to truly breathe again. there really wasn't anything you loved more than your girls, just the presence of them made the pounding pain backwash itself into a slight afterthought.

"i'm glad you're okay, you're not one to get reactive on the pitch."

leah was beside you now and the feeling of next to you immediately made your heartbeat hammer it's way into your throat. besides alessia, there was hardly anyone you wanted to impress more than leah. you couldn't help but look up to her, the young lioness captain crowning you her 'sweetest best friend' and sticking by you through your first national team call ups, and eventual life changing transfer to arsenal.

though you'd never say it, being one of leah's best friends was (nearly) the greatest thing to ever happen to you. to put it frankly, you'd rather die than have the girl be ashamed of you.

"i don't know what got into me," you reply, eyes focused on alessia as she placed your bags on the bench, laughing heartily at victoria desperately trying to do more push-ups than manuela.

leah follows your gaze and nods, pulling you into her side for a hug and sighing. "i think we both know what got into you, y/l/n," she says knowingly.

alessia’s watching you now, victorias cried not even enough to grab her attention. you'd barely told leah about your crippling crush on the striker out of fear she would tell georgia and keira, who would think it's funny to tell mary, who would accidentally tell ella— who would, without a doubt, tell alessia.

although, you hadn't been able to perfectly contain it, your infatuation spilling itself to leah sometimes as she jokingly told you to make a move. she didn't understand the seriousness of it all, only ever remembering when you accidentally said something that indicated your potential crush.

however, despite her joking pushes for confession, you'd gotten close once. you had a whole speech to go through and you even bought the roses and a cute stuffed bear. but, you bailed at the last second and gave the gifts to esme instead as a valentine's day gift since she was one of the only girls without somebody to expect something from.

she was more than delighted, hugging you longer than you'd ever been hugged before and returning the favor with flowers and a chocolate box promptly the next day. the sweetness of it all allowed you to forget about the pathetic mess of it all for a moment, deciding it was fate to give it to a good friend, like esme, rather than a hopeless crush, like alessia.

"you're going to the hospital, right?" leah asks when you pull away, her stern look still evident as she continued to dance around her obvious desire to chew you out.

"yeah, of course. alessia is coming with me, i think," you look over to her but she's already looking back, arms crossed as she leaned against the wall by herself now; seemingly waiting for you to be ready.

leah nods, pulling you in for one final squeeze and shedding her puffer, helping you into it and zipping it up to your chin. she lingers on your face a moment, running her thumb carefully over the tape on your skin to better secure the bandage alessia had clumsily put against your face before insisting you head to the hospital.

"i'll call you tomorrow, yeah? glad you're not scuffed up too bad, mate. i mean it. off you go," she nods to alessia who is now standing behind you, leah giving her a tight smile before heading back to the girls.

"ready to get all stitched up?" alessia asks with a smile as you dryly laugh, walking past her towards the door as she followed in quick succession, nearly dropping her keys.

despite how good the aftermath of the match had gone with the girls, the 30 minute drive to the hospital was hard to get through.

you didn't like being alone with alessia because it made you nervous, and the confinement of her mercedes was probably the worst situation you'd been in yet. your head was still pounding and the music she played only made you feel worse, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to make it all stop for what felt like the millionth time today.

and she was so close to you, her sweet smelling perfume driving you insane.

you weren't usually this close to her, often coming upon the perfume as you came out from the showers last, the smell clearly indicating alessia had left no later than a few minutes before you. you liked it that way— perfectly keeping your distance but still being able to, for lack of better words, lose your mind over her.

"are you nervous at all?" alessia asks, hands clumsily flipping the turn signal on.

"for the stitches?"

she nods.

"i don't like needles all that much," you admit as your stomach churned at the thought, "but i'm not very scared, no. as long as i don't see the needle beforehand i'll be okay."

"i've never had stitches before," she says. "i've only ever broken bones and stuff." the memory of her broken leg at unc floods your memory and it makes you feel a little sick, a photograph of a weak bodied alessia in a hospital gown reentering your memory.

you decide to finally look at her now, admiring how her nose scrunches every once in awhile and how she can't seem to decide which hand she wants to steer the wheel with.

"i'm more worried about getting my nose reset, i've had my shoulder put back into place mid match and it sucked pretty bad."

the rest of the drive is silent until the car roughly pulls into a parking space, alessia muttering about how bad she is at parking as she readjusts the positioning and turns the engine off. the silence feels heavy, the lack of engine humming and music making everything feel worse than it did before.

"do you want me to stay in the waiting room when they call you in?"

you hadn't thought about whether she'd come in or not, the pain of having to choose making your palms feel clammy.

"what do you want to do?" you ask, hoping she accepts your deflection.

"i want what you want. you know that," she says.

the words weigh themselves on you and you can't think anymore, brain feeling completely detached as you replay the idea over and over.

"come in," you decide without much thought. "no reason to have come all this way just to sit in a waiting room, right?"

she nods and smiles at you, blue eyes intently searching your own for something you weren't sure of. you abruptly turn back forward and clear your throat, reaching to the floorboards to grab your phone and keys to your own car.

alessia gets out before you can, opening the door for you and insisting you put 'some real pep in your step' so she can get you checked in as quick as possible.

it all starts to feel a little too intimate— alessia cleaning your cuts, alessia offering to take you to the hospital, alessia alessia alessia.

the waiting room seat is painfully uncomfortable, the plastic cushion coverings making noises that make you feel lightheaded as you squirm in the chair looking for the right angle. there's barely anyone in the hospital which is probably a good thing, the likelihood of waiting a century for a reset and some stitches looking unlikely.

it only takes 10 minutes for a doctor to call your name, the lack of nervousness washing away as you swallowed something that felt similar to a heartbeat and made your way to the door with alessia close behind you.

————���——————————————————————

"how long do you plan on studying the precise measurements of your nose?" alessia asks, lips curled into a sweet smile as she laughed at your furrowed eyebrows.

the stitches had gone fine, the doctor recognizing the two of you and making for nice conversation. you'd hardly even realized it had happened, far too focused on maintaining silent eye contact with alessia as she occasionally sent a smile or silly face your way.

the reset of your nose, though bearable in pain, did not go so well.

you were completely convinced your nose was still off center, waiting until the doctor left to lose your mind in hopes to not be rude. alessia had told you everything looked fine and begged you to stay seated for the 30 minute wait time until you'd be released, but of course your refused, grabbing the small hand held mirror from one of the counters and plopping yourself back onto the table to examine yourself.

"i look like i've been punched!" you exclaim, a shaky finger running itself along the outline of your nose as you continued to panic.

"well, you were punched," alessia affirms, laughing again as you send her a dirty glare.

she decides to get up and take the mirror from you, hushing the protests that leave your mouth as she makes quick work of putting the mirror back exactly as it was found.

“i look like alanna when she broke her nose,” your eyes are wide and alessia is laughing so hard she feels a little sick.

“if leah was here she’d agree instead of lying to me like a mother would,” you spit, moving the mirror closer to your face and groaning at your appearance.

alessia rolls her eyes playfully, “your nose looks how it always looks, i promise. you're stressing out over nothing, baby," she says, looking down to her phone and hastily trying to reply to the obnoxious amount of texts asking for updates on you.

you felt like you couldn't move anymore, eyes wide and fixated solely on alessia. a pet name didn't have to mean anything, you knew that. leah called you 'love' all the time, steph called you every name in the book, and kyra even claimed you as her 'pretty girlfriend' any chance she could. you loved it and were always happy to return the sweet words back.

but alessia couldn't share that privilege.

it made your head spin. it made your pupils blow and your heart hammer in your chest. it made your throat close up and threaten to never let you breathe properly again.

you wanted to tell her then and there. if you could time it perfectly the doctor could save you from awkwardness, coming in to assess you. maybe you could call leah to take you home? steph? anyone but alessia?

"i really do think it's crooked," you decide on ignoring all the screaming in your head. it was surely slanted, the bridge pointing to your right further than it had before.

alessia is rolling her eyes yet again from her seat in the chair by your hospital bed, putting her phone into her bag and watching you pout.

"quit being stubborn," she says. "i ought to make you walk all the way back home," her teasing voice is higher than her normal voice, your head, once again, spinning severely out of control.

"leah would come and get me," you say defensively, choosing to give in to the teasing instead of spacing out any longer than you already had. "or kyra, she would definitely come and rescue me from the side of the road."

you're laughing now, the thought of clumsy kyra having to rescue you from the side of the road. it's a good thought and you can only hope to remember to ask her if she'd actually ever be down to rescue you. maybe if you promised her a sleepover, or something stupid like that.

alessia doesn't laugh. hell, she doesn't even smile. you stop altogether as well, messily retracing your steps to catch what had made her mood drop? had she looked at her phone and seen something? you couldn't remember, too focused on your own bullshit to have been looking at her long enough to notice.

"lessi?" you try it softly, begging her to look up at you instead of blankly staring at the floor.

the doctor walks in before you can properly freak out and alessia excuses herself to the restroom. 10 minutes of vitals and care instructions pass before the doctor tells you you're free to go, leaving you to wait for alessia by yourself.

the room is so cold and obnoxiously bright and sterile smelling. it hadn't been noticeable when alessia was around, your mind far too focused on her, or pretending not to be focused on her, to properly take in the fact that you were in a hospital.

another 5 minutes pass before you debate going to make sure she's okay, a text from her saying 'i'm in the car, just come out when you're done' beating you to it. it makes you feel queasy, stomach churning and brain on fire.

you walk slow, not wanting to see her in this newfound upset state. let alone be in the car with her while she was pissed off about whatever it was that had happened. you debated actually calling leah, her contact picture still slotted in your slew of notifications with a text about getting good rest.

you can see her from your stance in the parking lot, her head resting against her hand in the drivers seat of the car. she looked so small in her winter coat, the clothing item nearly engulfing her body into it and leaving a misshapen body behind.

even from here, she was the prettiest girl you had ever seen. even upset, there was no one you wanted and adored more than alessia.

you finally made your way to the car, slotting yourself into the passenger seat and internally fighting with yourself over whether to try and talk to her or just leave her be. she immediately pulls the car out of the lot, exiting onto the highway and putting on her music. you decide to stay quiet, looking out the passenger window and watching all the passing lights of the city.

by the time she pulls up to your apartment you’re nearly in tears from the awkwardness, alessia not saying a word as she put the cat into park.

“have i upset you? because i’m really sorry if i did,” you say, body completely turned towards her as she continues staring mindlessly out the window.

“i know i’ve been a lot today, and i’m sorry. i appreciate all of this so much, i seriously owe you—“

“are you and leah together?”

it was the last thing you expected her to say. the car felt infinitely smaller now, your body shifting uncomfortably in her squeaky leather seats.

“are you joking?” your’e nervously laughing, the thought of being intimate with the other blonde being so wildly wrong it’s funny.

leah was basically your mom with the ways she bossed you around and micromanaged your life. planning out your schedule with you and being your plus one to nearly everything, she was a mere two steps away from being a certified family member turned adult babysitter.

“you’re wearing her coat,” alessia says, eyes staring at the #6 on the arsenal training coat wrapped around your body.

“she offered it to me before we left, i’m confused why you’re interrogating me about leah?” you’re getting defensive, your body pressed against the passenger door as you tried to back away from her.

“i don’t know why i did this,” alessia whispers, shaking her head. “you were vulnerable and i was vulnerable and i thought— i don’t fucking know what i thought, actually.”

you’d never really seen her like this, face completely flushed and hands tightening around the wheel. she looked so angry and the bone in her brow became so prominent you wondered how you’d never really noticed it before.

it was hard to understand what she was going on about, the meds still playing with your head and the anxiety in you making your pain prominent once again.

“i’m really confused right now,” your voice is laced with frustration as you lazily maneuver yourself forward so as to get a better look at her face. “i don’t understand why you’re so upset right now? i can’t help you if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on with you.”

you immediately regret how intense you sound and you force yourself to relax your body, eyes softening as you look at her.

“it’s so dumb,” she whispers, shaking her head.

“it’s not dumb, i promise. whatever it is, it’s okay, just talk to me,” you’re practically begging her, your hand against the side of her seat as you continue intently looking at her.

“i just have this, like,” she laughs and slams her head against the car seat, finally looking towards you. “i have this crippling crush on you and i thought it’d be a good idea to tell you after you were all better for some reason and that fell apart because the way you talked about leah was just so much and then i thought about how close you two were and i noticed the coat and felt stupid for not getting the hint that you were togeth—“

“can i kiss you?”

you don’t think about it, nor do you care that you didn’t think about it. there was nothing to think about. it was just alessia. alessia sitting right next to you, telling you she felt the same— it was the only thing to say.

“you have stitches on your lip,” she whispers, eyes trailing down to the thread and back up to your gaze.

“i’m numbed out of mind,” you remind her, your own eyes fixated on her mouth as you waited for an answer.

you wouldn’t be upset if she said no. you’d be perfectly fine walking inside with absolutely nothing more than what she’d already given you. there wasn’t anything that you could ask for more perfect than this.

she decides not to answer, instead leaning in and gently pressing her lips to your own. the thread is mostly on the inside of your mouth, the rough feeling only slightly making it’s way to alessia’s lips which eases her anxiety.

you hardly move against her, scared to overwhelm her or yourself, desperately trying to confirm if this moment was real or not. but it’s clear she wants more, her hand moving to the back of your neck as she pushes you further against her.

“climb over the middle,” she breathes into your mouth, undoing your seatbelt herself and moving her seat back slightly.

there’s no time to consider anything so you do as your told, climbing over the middle console and sitting yourself on her lap, nervously looking down at her. she’s somehow even prettier up this close, faint freckles littered across her nose and barely there smile lines visible near her mouth.

but there’s no more time for examining because she’s kissing you again, hands roaming to your waist and thighs, squeezing your skin and driving you insane.

to say that you needed more was an understatement, your body practically burning for her. but you still had a headache. and your nose might still be crooked. and you were so tired your legs felt a little wobbly even with your full weight on her.

“do you wanna stay over tonight?” you ask, alessia moving to kiss your neck as you spoke, her warm tongue running up the skin there and causing you to shiver.

she pulls away and you notice how dark her blue eyes had gone, her pupils blown so big you could argue her eyes might be black. “stay as in sleep,” you say, lazily putting your hands on her shoulders.

as if a switch was flipped she gives you the signature sweet smile, nodding up at you and squeezing your waist again playfully.

“not that i don’t want to, you know, but today is just too much for me,” it comes out a little awkward but alessia is already ahead of you, leaning up to kiss you one more time and smile stupidly into your lips.

“we can talk about it all in the morning?” she asks and you nod, moving yourself out of the now open drivers door and stepping out into the cold night. she’s quick to follow, letting you go first and unlock the door.

you barely make it through much of anything, your body almost immediately in bed by the time you’d walked in. alessia is standing awkwardly near you, fingers toying with themselves as she tried to come up with how to ask where she was supposed to sleep.

“you can lay in here with me,” you say. “only if that’s what you want, there’s always the couch.”

she practically runs into bed with you, cozying herself up in the opposite side and laying her face towards you. you smile at each other, basking in the company.

you want to ask her a million things, but you don’t. instead you study her face for as long as you can, falling asleep far quicker than you had meant to.

and you wake up late, for the first time in years. and alessia is laying snug into your side, her body practically radiating heat. and there’s sunlight streaming through your window.

and you’re happy. and your nose, as alessia had promised, was on completely right.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #alessia russo fic #alessia russo x reader #engandwnt x reader #woso fic #woso imagine #alessia russo #lioness x reader

[misguidedasgardian]

Storm's End 2

HOTD Masterlist

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Strong!Reader

Summary: your mother sends you to Storm’s End to rally Lord Borros Baratheon for your side, but your uncle arrived there before you

Warnings: Cursing, use of the word bastard, angst, heavy, canon level incest, thoughts about dying, mentions of bedding, and more, dark fic, Aemond is unhinged, rape, non-con, minors engaging in sexual activities, mentions of a minor in a pleasure house, maiming, blood, violence, victim blaming, self blame, and other very dark things. 

+18 MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 4,7 k

Notes: Ufff It seems I can’t do one shots anymore, I think this required another third part because I didn’t want to make it so long.

They say that when you are dying, all your life passes right through your eyes, making you relive all those moments, and the way you felt

Now you are able to say, that it wasn’t that accurate

Because all you could see was HIM

His head on your lap while you read to him in High Valyrian under the heart tree 

You turning to him with a smile on your face the first time Karnax obeyed your command, the way he smiled back

The time you grabbed his hand and patted Karnax’s snout making him purr 

But suddenly you were that frightened little girl in that tunnel in Driftmark

“no! stop it!”, you screeched, as Aemond had your older brother grabbed by his vest and he held a rock in his hand

“stop it!”, you begged him again, he threw his hand back to gain momentum and he hit you in the face with the rock

You wailed and cried, your face burning, a warm liquid filling your mouth with a metallic taste, blood pouring from your nose 

Because of you your brother grabbed the knife, to avenge you, because of you baby Lucerys jumped at Aemond and slashed his eye off of his face

Soon you were not the only one crying bitterly

Soon some gloved, adult hands grabbed you and lifted you from the ground and took you to a maester 

Soon you were seated across from Aemond, as the maester sewed his missing eye shut, his remaining eye didn’t leave your face, his mouth twisted in a dark mock

He didn't even blinked, he barely reacted when the needle pierced his skin over and over

While you only got a bloody nose.

Deeper into the night, after the maester sneaked you a bit of milk of the poppy, you woke up when you could no longer breathe, feeling a weight over your chest, when you opened your eyes the first thing you saw was Aemond’s scowl, the slash on his face still bright red. 

“Aemond?”, you called, then he took a knife off his belt, you screeched but he placed his hand in your throat, “what’s happening?”, you cried, “I want my mom”

“Why was I the only one who lost something?”, he asked bitterly, “the only one scarred”

“You have Vhagar”, you whined

“I didn't stole her”, he clarified

“I know”, you said

“perhaps I should scar you too”

“You mom scarred mine”, you whined, a tear falling down your cheek, “please don’t”, you cried 

Aemond looked down at you, you didn’t know what he was thinking, you only stood still, afraid. Your uncle seemed to ponder about something, thinking, analyzing, and then , with the hand that hold the dagger, he grabbed the covers and retired them, you were sleeping only in your loose nightshirt, 

You were eight and he was ten, he grabbed the dagger, you were so scared you didn’t even move, you only cried and whined when he carved an “A” into your thigh

“Now you are scarred like me”, he said with an even voice, and an uneven stare, looking down at you like he was bored.

Even though you thought the Red Keep was your home, you were so relieved when your mom told all of you that you were going to live in Dragonstone from now on. You were now scared of your own uncle, of your friend, and therefore you managed to conceal your mark, never showing it to your parents 

The next part of your memories were only a few weeks back, when you return for the first time to the Red Keep, to defend your own right to inherit Driftmark

You were lucky you were the only one that looked like a Targaryen

But Lord Vaemond Velaryon’s words still hurt 

As he screamed bastard and whore to the entire court, you couldn’t help but look up at your uncle, feeling his gaze on you.

And before that in the training yard

That is when the uneasiness began, his gaze on you, that same smirk, like he was mocking you, and Jace, you were barely a year younger than your brother, he was only a year younger and yet, it seemed like Aemond was ages your senior, in abilities, in knowledge, in maturity, in everything

Perhaps that is why he was so amused

He seemed to mock you, to pity you, to be amused of how much of your childhood you still carried with you

You hugged yourself as Vaemond cursed you and your mother, and you felt his gaze on you the entire time

But then Daemon slayed Vaemond in front of all of you, Jacey, before you could see anything, he grabbed you and hid your face on his chest, to prevent you from looking at your now dead great uncle 

Soon the impression on Aemond passed, as he watched in anger that bastard touching you, protecting you

He couldn’t stand the thought of you with someone else other than him.

That’s why he asked his mother, to ask Rhaenyra for your hand that very afternoon, right before the dinner 

You couldn’t even eat, not with his gaze on you, you kept looking up at him, as he drank you in your black leather dress at the same time he drank from his cup. He didn’t not even for a second, let his gaze off of you.

You mother saw this, and grabbed your arm gently, and whispered to you what he wanted, that he asked for your hand 

When your face twisted in fear and anguish, your mother’s changed to that of concern, then you both looked at Aemond across the table, and he could see in your faces, what the answer was going to be.

So fueled by anger and resentment, he stood from his chair and toasted to the health of his Strong nephews, and he looked directly at you when he said this.

“To the health of my nephews and sweet niece, my the gods keep them handsome, wise and Strong, she will need her strength, to bear my children after we are married”, he said with a smirk, and the entire table shared concerned looks

“WHAT?”, growled Daemon, looking at Rhaenyra

Whole hell broke loose

You tried to stop Jace, but he wouldn’t hear of it, he went for Aemond to defend your honor and he pushed him away like he was a doll 

“Stop it!”, You begged him, after helping Jace on his feet you put yourself in between them Aemond walked towards you and grabbed you by the neck, he didn’t squeeze, he didn’t choke you, but you could see the anger in his eye

“You think you have a choice?”, he whispered to you, “I think you should see the scar in your leg to remind yourself of who you belong to”, But a leather hand grabbed Aemond’s arm roughly, you looked to the side and there was Daemon

“Get your hands off my daughter”, he whispered dangerously, and in the background, you could hear everyone screaming in desperation, specially Alicent 

You were already crying, but he released you, smiling wickedly.

He had a face to face with Daemon, who put you behind him to protect you

“Over my dead body you will marry her”, he promised, Aemond only looked at you, and then he exited the room 

Your mother send you home with your siblings that very night, scared of her own brother 

And then as you took to the skies in the night you were suddenly transported to the last time you saw him

Aemond standing in front of you, 

You were still in Storm’s End Hall, but there was no one else besides the both of you, you were alone. You wanted to speak, but couldn’t 

“My beautiful, bastard, niece”, his words made you wince

You didn't know why you were here, is this what it was like to die? it felt like you were dreaming

“Why?”, you whispered, he tilted his head, amused, “Why do you hate me so much?”, you manage to ask, “I never did anything to you”

“I don’t hate you”, he said simply, “I’m just treating you like you deserve to be treated”, you frowned, “you are just a bastard, mine to toy with, mine to torment”

“Nobody deserves to be treated like that”, you fought, “is not my fault”, you whined, he only smirked, with a smooth movement he retrieved from inside his leather vest the dagge 

“You are nothing, only the bastard daughter of a pretender who will never be Queen, strutting around the keep, with your bastard siblings”, a tear fell down your eye

“Is not my fault”, you cried, you believed him, a sadness taking a grip on you, you gasped for air as an inexplicable sorrow took a hold on you, “is not my fault!”, you cried, soon you couldn’t breath, you felt someone had a tight grip on your throat, you couldn’t breathe

You gasped for air, but something was preventing you from taking the oxygen you needed, you dried heaved, until you managed to throw up

Your body convulsed trying to expel the water from within your lungs, you tossed and turned until you finally manage to turn in the sand and threw up the salt water from within you 

That is how you came to your senses again, disoriented, feeling sick, and clouded, and cold

So so cold

“So cold”, your voice sounded like a broken bagpipe, you tried to grab onto something, but your hand grabbed rocks and sand, you could barely see around you, it was all dark, it was late, and it was cold

You were soon aware that you were back in the land of the living, if you were dead, you wouldn't be in pain, you wouldn’t be so aware of your numb extremities, from the cold, the adrenaline, and the fact that you felt like you had been ran over by a herd of horses 

You took your time to gather your bearings, to take deep breaths and expel the salty taste from your mouth, so sharp it clouded your mind even more 

For some reason, even the stranger had forgotten you

once you managed to regain the mobility of your arms and legs, you turned around 

“Karnax?”, you called, as you whimpered, feeling your loss in your chest, making it tight and hurt, as memories of the last moments coming back to you

“KARNAX?”, you called desperately, but you knew it was of no use, your dragon had been ripped apart by Vhagar, and it was a miracle that you were still alive 

Then you stopped, maybe shouting and drawing attention back to you, wasn’t the brightest of ideas. But as you looked into the stormy sea, bitter tears fell down your eyes

Your baby dragon was gone, the one who had been with you since you were born. 

You couldn’t stand on your own legs, you tried to, but failed.

You shivered, and tried to hug yourself

it was some miracle that the waves and current had dragged you to a small piece of beach with dark sands, rather than the rockery all around you 

But you soon realize it wasn’t a miracle 

You saw something, someone moved in your peripheral view, and you got a feeling…

Aemond walked towards you slowly

It had stopped raining but he was still wet as you were, his wet silvery locks stuck to the edges of his face and his clothes, all leather, protected him from the rain, he had taken off his eyepatch, and the sapphire gleamed even in the dark

You haven't yet recovered the feeling to your legs, but scared out of your mind you tried to crawl back, away from him. he smiled, wickedly, as he walked towards you 

“Get away from me!”, you whined, but he stopped on your leg meanly, preventing you from advancing away from him. He only hummed, entertained

He looked like a creature that had come from the bottom of the ocean, front he pits of hell, he had resurfaced just to drag you back with him. He had come from your deepest nightmares

He leaned down towards you, you tried to fight him off, but he wouldn’t budge, he grabbed you tightly, roughly, tears fell down your eyes when he dragged you to him in a wicked embrace 

“NO!”, you screamed squirming, trying to get away from him, “Why would you do that?”, you cried, bitter tears that burned your cheeks fell down your eyes, “My Karmax, my dragon, he was gentle, fair tempered, he never hurt anyone! He was good! Why did you do this? HE LOVED YOU AS HE DID ME! YOU KILLED HIM!”, you screamed, desperately fighting against him, to release yourself from his grasp

“He was weak and small, so are you”, he mocked in your ear

“WHO CARES ABOUT THAT?”, you felt physical pain in your chest, “he was my soulmate”, he manhandled you until he was face to face with you, he grabbed your jaw forcefully

“You have other things to worry about”, he growled, and you whimpered in his hold, trying to get away from him, but still you couldn’t, he was stronger than you, and you were completely destroyed 

“please”, you whimpered, “you killed my dragon…”, his eye darkened even more, his expression was now the one of a man enraged 

“Don’t you dare to even think we are even”, he growled, he then smirked darkly, “but after this we might”

The night was awfully calm, strangely so, and it was ridiculous you would think about something like that in a moment like this, but here you were 

Because you knew what was about to happen

You only cried when Aemond threw you on the sandy floor, the hit numbing you partially, more than you were already. Aemond looked down at you for the very first time, in all this years, you saw him smile, he didn't smirk, he smiled widely, openly, you could see his teeth

“Please”, you begged him, to just leave you alone

“I love it when you beg”, he ceremoniously removed his long leather jacket, and left it gently on the floor 

“I never did anything to you”, you whined, tears kept falling from your eyes and he finally jumped you, like a lion to his prey.

You tried to fight him off but you were so tired, so drained of all your energy, you couldn’t

You whined against him, but he didn't care, he never did, why would he do now?

He took the dagger off his belt, and for a fraction of a second you felt relieved, he was going to slice your neck and be done with it, but no, he sliced your riding pants instead, you tried to kick him, but barely moved him.

He got tired of your antics and grabbed you by the neck roughly

You whined and trashed, but he wouldn’t let go, soon the inability to breathe make you dizzy, losing the little strength you had left 

“Please Uncle”, you managed to let out, cheeks wetted with your tears, the salty air making your skin burn

But he wouldn’t let go, he looked down a you with a sick satisfaction that make you whimper once more, as you were bare from the waist down

You never had high expectations regarding your first time with a man, you had heard from the Septas that it was your duty as a wife to please your husband in that matter, they had also said that it won’t be pleasant, that pleasure is not something you must seek

That the act of bedding was only to produce heirs

But with your sibling, Jace in particular, you had seen and read things, fueled by your curiosity, and you found out that it was quite pleasurable, for people that worked in the skin trade anyways…

You knew you had no expectations, but still

You never expected this

He undid his pants, releasing his manhood, it was big, thick, long, the tip red and angry, and even looking at it make you cry even more

“No please”, you managed to say, Aemond could see you were running out of air, so he released you just a little

He needed you conscious

“Please don’t do this, please”, you begged and begged, and he rebelled in it, he placed himself between your thighs, making you hurt

But the worst part was yet to come

“Why wouldn’t I?”, he mocked

While he still had you by the neck, the other went between your legs, yout thighs shook when you felt him, trying to introduce one of his fingers, it was uncomfortable, and it burned 

You were dry

And he seemed to enjoy it

“Noooo”, you babbled, as you started hiccuping because of your distress, he only hummed. Pleased, with the situation, with you, or whatever

He fisted his cock only a couple of times, and gave you no reprieve.

He give you no space to move, no space to escape, 

You shrieked in pain, the burn felt like nothing you had experienced before, you cried out as he ripped you open for him 

“No! it burns, please”, you begged, “it hurts!”, you cried, you scream bloody murder

“Fuck”, he cursed, a sick smile on his lips

“Why?”, you cried, tears falling, whimpers being drawn, “Why?”, he paid no mind to you, only retrieved yourself and you almost thought that he was going to free you from this torment

Only for him to thrust into you even more roughly than before 

You shrieked, as Aemond looked down for when your bodies were united and smiled when he saw the blood pouring from you. But he almost caught a glimpse of the mark he had drawn in your skin all those years ago. 

“Now you are just a whore”, he said, satisfied with himself, again thrusting into you, “do you think Cregan Stark will want you now?”, he mocked

He kept fucking you, raping you, and the only thing in your mind to distract you from the pain was… why? Why did he hate you so much? if your dreams were to give you any clarity… which you doubted 

“I’m sorry uncle”, you whispered, as he retrieved himself from you and then pushed again inside you, making you cry out

“I don’t care”

“I’m sorry”, you repeated again, and then again, like a mantra while he defiled you, while he took you against your will in that beach 

“Come on, come for me, like the little wanting whore I know you are”, but you were far from it, you were still in pain, and your body reacted accordingly, trying to soothe you, lubricating itself to help you cope. He found your clit, pinching it and rubbing it roughly, too rough to be pleasurable, but it still helped. 

Your head fell to the side, looking at the waves, so far yet so close, you wanted to get lost in them, as the rough sway of Aemond against you, you saw the waves coming and going with almost the same speed.

Until he grabbed your jaw and make you look back at him

The unhinged look in his eye, his growls and gasps 

You grabbed the wrist of the hand that had you by the neck and you looked into his eyes, almost defiantly, and what you found in them scared you even more

You felt him deep in your belly, your insides were on fire you wanted to throw up, but the salty taste of all the sea water you drank was still present, giving you no reprieved

“Please stop”, you begged one more time, “please uncle, it hurts”

“Shh”, he only shushed you, he leaned in and kissed you, for the very first time, ever

His wet lips were a welcoming distraction, but not even in the kiss you felt relief, feeling only dread, desperation and anger 

He bit on your lower lip, apparently the blood of your maidenhead wasn’t enough, he needed to taste it in his mouth too

You thought it was never going to end

Until finally his movements became sloppy, his eye rolled and he grabbed your neck even tighter 

You felt him, deep inside you, ropes of his seed filling your womb

You cried even harder, moving more than before

He stood planted deep inside you for endless minutes, looking down at you, analyzing your face, and every expression on it, you only cried softly, your body tight with pain and trauma.

“i have to make sure it takes”, he mocked, and your shrieked shortly, “I told you I was going to give you my bastard”

You looked away from him, barely imagining how it was going to be like to bring shame to the family in that way.

Weak

You had let him do this to you

If only you were stronger

He finally released you, you whispered one more time when he took himself off of you

You felt a thick substance leaking off of you, and you could only imagine what it was

Aemond stood up, as he fixed his pants, you barely could roll to the side, hugging yourself, to look at the waves

You felt dizzy, nauseous, in pain and cold

And if you had something in your stomach you would have throw it out

But you didn’t 

You felt his gaze on you again, you tried to ignore him, thinking faintly on how you are going to survive this, how you were going to go back home

To your family

They were going to love you no matter what, you knew this, and if Aemond tried to say the opposite, you were not going to believe him

Aemond didn't move, he only looked at you, the soft, musty wind hit your face, making you whimper in cold, but still, you laid there, unmovable, you could feel him moving, placing his jacket back on him, taking his time, and yet, you didn't move. Then he leaned in, and you tried to squirm away, but he grabbed you easily

“You either come with me, or I leave you here”, he whispered in your ear, you didn't move, you just stayed there, laying in the sand, he came into your frame, as you stared down at the beach. You were not an idiot, if he left you here, it is probable you were not going to make it, you were far away from everything, you had no dragon, another storm was coming

But going with him is unthinkable

Yet you didn't move 

You saw his boots walking away from you, and then, they stopped

He looked back at you

You were stubborn

“Your Grace”, greeted the woman shakily, bowing to the Queen. Rhaenyra had unshed tears in her eyes 

Daemon barely managed to get her out of her chambers. They had no news of you, and that is what scared them, they assumed the worse

“You are Lady Alyne Felwood, are you not?”, she asked, she did not mind to present herself like this, she hasn't brushed her hair, she hadn't even bathed, she wasn’t wearing her crown, still crying in front of that woman, a woman whose family was of the Stormlands, sworn to House Baratheon

“I am, indeed”

“Are you not sworn to House Baratheon?”, spitted Daemon by her side, looking as imposing now that his sweet wife couldn’t 

“I was”, you whispered, “I was a part of the court of House Baratheon, and I was there that day when…”, Rhanyra’s gaze that had been on the table looked up at her, alarmed

“You were there?”, she asked, tears falling freely, the lady barely nodded

“I was”, she whispered, she looked within herself, to tell the tale as softest as she could, she did not want to bring her more pain, “I was there when the princess entered the Hall, unfortunately, Prince Aemond…”, she stopped to see their reaction, Daemon grabbed the pommel of his sword tightly, and Rhanyra whimpered, “had been there for hours when she arrived”

“It was him?”, she asked, Alyne barely nodded 

“She made her case to Lord Borros, but one-eye had already made his own, offering his own, or his brother’s Daeron’s hand in marriage”, she said, “Lord Borros mocked the princess when she had nothing of the sort to offer him, and that is when…”, she paused, she might lose her head for this, in a “kill the messenger” situation, but she came her for a reason, “Aemond interrupted”

“What was said?”, asked Daemon impatiently, tired of the pauses

“He said that her brother had a debt to pay, that he wanted her to pay instead” 

“What debt?”, she asked

“He said that he wanted a payment of blood”

“He slayed her…?”, cried Rhaenyra, but the lady shook her head

“He said he was going to take her maidenhead, and send you their sheets with her blood in it”, Rhaenyra whimpered, grabbing onto the painted table, “he tried to go to her but lord Borros intervened, he commanded her to be taken back to her dragon, she exited hastily, but so did he…”

“He demanded her maidenhead? And they let him go after her?”, she cried

“The guards on the battlements told Lord Borros that they have heard shouting, laughs and screams, and… a shriek of a Dragon”, Rhaenyra covered her mouth in an attempt to swallow her cries

“my little girl”, she cried, and Daemon hugged her tightly, hiding her face on his chest 

“Why?”, asked Daemon, angry at this woman, who brought Rhaenyra sordid details about that day

“I’m a mother to a girl too”, she whispered 

Then she was dismissed 

“My girl!”, Rhaenyra cried, when they were alone, “my little girl”

“Shhh, my love, we will get her back, whatever it takes” 

Taglist!

@lightdragonrayne @immyowndefender @aemondswifeisme @twobluejeans @toodlesxcuddles @sassysaxsolo @thearchitectoflove @maidmerrymint @floralsightings @daughterofthemoons-stuff @glendarollitkatharinesanders @ruhjkie @starkjedi @baconturtle

#misguidedhotd #misguidedhouse #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #targaryen!reader #house targaryen #hbo house of the dragon #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction

[zorosleftshoe]

You’re Losing Me - (c.b)

Pairing: Colby Brock x fem!reader

Warnings: ANGST (fluff at end)

“I can’t find a pulse,

My heart won’t start anymore,

For you”

“Colby, please!” As if he could sense the exasperation in my voice he lightly pinched the bridge of his nose and looked up from his now cold dinner.

“What do you want me to do? You know what you signed up for when you got into this relationship. I’m sorry that it’s not what you wanted.” His words were like venom as they from his lips. Those blue orbs I had fallen so in love with never once reaching mine as we sat across from each other picking at our plates.

“You’re what I want, Colby. But you can’t even look at me anymore. Do you even know the color of my eyes? My favorite song? Movie?” I paused waiting for some sort of response. My face shifted in disappointed as I realized he had no intention of responding to my rapid fire questions. “Do you even love me anymore?” Finally his ocean eyes met mine and they were filled with a fire I had never seen before. This was not my Colby.

“Of course I do. Why would you even ask me that? Why would I be with you if I didn’t love you?” His eyes fell back down to plate in front of him and the conversation was over. “There’s a party at Amber’s tomorrow. We should go.”

“As a date?” Colby shrugged at my question as a frown settled on my face. “Okay. I’ll go.” Colby grunted in response but went back to lazily picking at his dinner. With a frown on my face and a crack in my heart, I stalked to the kitchen where I spent the next few hours wondering whether Colby still liked the color red.

~~~

“If you’re asked a question, give vague answers. Otherwise, smile and nod.” Colby said in that cold tone he always used when he was speaking business. My heart plummeted as the feeling of our date being a simple business matter to him settled in. Colby knocked on the door twice before Amber opened it in a tight little black dress.

“You made it!” She squealed before throwing her arms tightly around my boyfriend’s shoulders. A red tint crept onto my cheeks as I watched Colby eye her hungrily. Out of embarrassment I tugged lightly at the red trim of dress thinking of how next time I’d wear black.

Colby immediately separated from me to go find Sam who was nursing a glass of whiskey with Nate by his side. The party raged around us as everything moved in slow motion for me. Colby’s head thrown back deep in laughter with Sam’s hand clasped on his shoulder. The lights around us changing from blues to reds. Or was it purple? My eyes tunneled in on Colby and I felt my heart begin to race.

“What are you doing here?” Amber’s voice pulled me from the darkness consuming my thoughts and I forced a smile onto my face.

“Colby invited me.” She nodded before looking at brunette across the room. Her hand lightly came to hold mine as she gently turned my head to face her.

“Do you consider me your friend?” She waited for my response and when I nod to reassure her she continues. “You give everything to Colby. What does he give to you?” I opened my mouth to speak but when the words didn’t come out Amber’s honey eyes softened. “You deserve someone who looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars.” Her words crippled me as I recalled Colby and I’d conversation from the day before.

“Do I throw away everything we have? I,” my eyes linger over to the man I had fallen so madly in love with and the weight on my chest causes my breath to hitch. “I love him so much it hurts.” Amber sighed before pulling me into her arms.

“That’s not love, honey. I can’t tell you what to do; I won’t tell you what to do. All I will say, is that there has to be something better out there. Someone who won’t leave you alone at a party to drink by yourself.” Tears cascade down my cheeks at her words and she uses the pad of her thumb to swipe them away. “Love yourself the way you love him.” She presses her glossy lips against my cheek before squeezing my hand and stepping away to greet more guests.

~~~

“Say something!” Colby groans as the front door slams behind us. The party now forgotten as my heels and his jacket are discarded on the door. “Do something!” Sadness oozes from my voice as I beg the man I love to fight for me. “Please!”

“What do you want me to do?” He throws his arms out in defeat as more tears roll down my tearstained cheeks.

“How can you say you love me when you don’t even see how miserable I am?” He scoffs before sulking off to the kitchen. I follow hot on his heels and watch as he cracks open a bottle of Jack and pours a glass. “Don’t ignore me, Cole.” He places the glass against the counter before looking up at me with tired eyes. “I wore your favorite dress. I put on my cutest set of lingerie. I,” I pause at a loss for words. “I only ever wanted you to see me. I can’t do this anymore.” His head snaps in my direction at those five words.

“What?”

“I can’t do this anymore, Colby. I’ve tried everything to keep you happy. I’ve done everything to keep you happy. This just isn’t working anymore. I love you so much it’s killing me and you don’t even see it.” Colby pushes himself from the counter and takes a few steps towards me as I take a few back as a counter measure.

“So you’re not happy. We can fix that.” I scoff sadly at his words and finally look up into his eyes.

“There’s nothing to fix!” Colby takes a step back at my outburst but quickly moves closer to block me. “Tonight was the final blow. I can’t continue to give my everything to you just to get crumbs in return.” Reluctantly, I reach up to touch his cheek and he remains unfazed. “I love you. This isn’t because I don’t love you. You have to understand that. I. Love. You.” With that, I retract my hand from the warmth of his body heat and head to our shared room to pack my things.

~~~

The trees around me blew happily in the breeze as I sat snuggled up in my scarf on the park bench. Children’s laughter filled the air as they ran around the playground kicking up mulch in their trail. My heart warmed as two little hands tugged on my hand.

“Mommy?” I lean down to reach her height and watch as she points to the swing set. “Swing.”

“Of course, my little explorer.” As the little girl pulls me towards the swing set, my eyes meet those ocean blue eyes that I once knew better than the world and my breath hitches. “Amelia, let’s go, sweetheart.” I say softly as I gently tug against her grip.

“But mommy, I want to swing!” Ocean blue eyes widen as her words fill the air around us and my lungs deflate. “Swing! Swing! Swing!” I kneel down towards the small girl and put on my best smile.

“I’ll bring you tomorrow and you can swing first thing. What do you say?” She giggles before taking my hand once more and allowing me to lead her towards our car.

“Wait!” His voice fills my ears and tears well up in the corners of my eyes. “Please.” This time his plea is closer and when I turn to look I’m met with his blue eyes. “I would like to talk.” Colby glances down at the small child who is now peeking from behind my legs and then back to my widened eyes.

“I don’t think we have anything to talk about.” I attempt to turn around but his hand catches mine. My eyes fall to our entwined hands before I look back up at him.

“How old is she?” I shake my head at his question. “How old is she?” Once again I shake my head and he turns to the small child. “How old are you?” He asks sweetly and I watch as she gives him a toothy grin and holds up three fingers. Colby looks up at me with a look of bewilderment and I close my eyes. “Do you mind if I talk to your mommy?” I feel Amelia let go of my hand and I open my eyes slightly to see her running back towards the slides. “She’s mine, isn’t she?”

“What does it matter?” Colby sighs before testing the waters again and lightly grazing my hand with his pointer finger. “Colby.”

“It matters because I never got a chance to say what I needed to.” I shrug before looking back towards the small brunette child that has those same ocean eyes. “I love you. When you left four years ago I should have came after you. Instead I let you go because you were right. I didn’t pay enough attention to know you were so unhappy. You deserved someone who could just look at you,” he paused before taking my other hand and looking into my tear filled eyes. “And say I love you more than anything in this world and I’m willing to wake up every day and prove that.” A sob escapes my lips and he gently swipes his thumb under my eye collecting the fallen tears. “Stay and let me show you I love you.”

“What if you change your mind?” Colby chuckles lightly before craning his neck to close the gap between us.

“I will never allow myself to lose you again.” He leans forward and presses his lips against mine. His hands find my waist as my fingers tangle in his hair and I pull him closer to my body. Colby sighs happily against my lips and I take the chance to swipe my tongue against his bottom lip. I pull away to catch my breath and Colby presses his forehead lightly against my own. “I love you.”

“I love you, Colby.” Children screaming brings us back to our surroundings and I see his eyes light up.

“Can I meet my daughter?” I giggle happily before taking his hand in mine and leading him towards the small girl who was sliding down the slide.

“Our daughter.” Colby’s lips twitch upwards into a smile at the two words with his hand never leaving mine.

#colbybrock #colby brock x y/n #sam and colby #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock x you #colby brock #colby brock angst

[riordanness]

my tears ricochet - [p.jackson]

1.3K wordcount

warnings: death, serious angst

requested: no

"Okay, everyone ready?" Percy asked, his sea-green eyes searching the crowd. They locked on me for half a moment, then flitted away.

The campers looked grim, but they all nodded and put on brave faces. This was probably the last battle any of us would ever fight, but we had to try. We were the world's last chance.

Percy grimaced, held up his sword, Riptide, and cried: "For Olympus!"

"For Olympus!" The cheer echoed eerily in the dark tunnel, sounding much louder than us fifty kids should've been able to make.

"Alright," Percy said. "Everyone partner up. No leaving your partner, not for anything. Stick together, stay in sight of other pairs, and keep each other safe."

Everyone immediately started grabbing for their friends, chaos erupting like a bonfire.

Percy moved through the crowd towards me. I managed a smile, but I knew it didn't look genuine.

"Hey," I said, my voice a higher pitch then usual. I shrugged my right shoulder a little. "It's gonna be fine, alright? We've got nothing to worry about."

Percy gazed at the other campers, then back at me. "Yeah... yeah of course."

I reached over and squeezed his hand. "Hey, wanna be my partner?" I smirked a little.

Percy's face melted a little, the smile I loved so much shining through the darkness, just a little. "I guess so."

I scoffed. "You guess so? What, I'm not your best friend anymore?"

He suddenly grabbed me and pulled me into a tight hug, arms around my waist. "You're so much more than my best friend," he whispered fiercely.

My heart fluttered, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and squeezed him tight.

"Okay," I said after a moment. "Let's do this thing. And after, as long as you stay alive, lunch is on me."

I held out my pinky, and he linked his around mine. "Deal," he said, a playful gleam in his eyes.

Percy turned to the remainder of Camp Half-Blood. "Campers! Let's, uh, go fight this dude!"

I smiled. This was my best friend. My crazy sidekick. My laughter. My smile. My reason to live. My everything.

He glanced at me, grabbed my hand, and squeezed it three times. "I love you," he began.

"No matter what," I finished with a slight smile. Sadly, Percy's feelings for me were purely platonic.

He would never admit it to me, but I could tell he still had feelings for his ex-girlfriend, Annabeth Chase. She'd left him about two years ago, when her father had dragged her off to Australia.

There was nothing either she or Percy could do about it. They couldn't use phones to contact each other, and Camp Half-Blood needed Percy, so they'd made the decision to break up.

I missed Annabeth. She'd been such an amazing leader, and even though I hadn't known her super well, she'd been so nice to me. I hoped that wherever she was now, she wouldn't mind me loving her Percy.

Percy and I stood back to back, like we had for years. I knew his fighting style so well, and he knew mine just as well.

I gripped the string of my bow, aiming carefully, and releasing it. The arrow soared right into the demon's glowing red eye. Why do they always have to have red eyes?

I cursed under my breath in Ancient Greek. "Dammit," I muttered, biting my thumbnail. I needed to get closer. I needed to get rid of the boomerang thing.

"Percy!" I yelled.

"What?" He swung Riptide into the demon's ankle, cutting a bloody slit. The demon roared in pain, swatting the air in front of Percy, who stumbled out of the way.

"Keep it distracted!" I cried. "I - I think I have an idea!"

His eyes locked with mine. "Are you sure?" His voice sounded shaky.

I nodded firmly. "Yes. Don't worry. I'll come back. I always do. Pinky promise."

I ran to him, linking my pinky with his, giving him one last tight hug. "Okay, now go!" I ordered, pushing him away from me. I couldn't afford to get emotional.

I skirted around the demon's legs, rushing to the back of it. A ruined building lay in pieces, but still had enough intact for me to climb up a fair way. At least two stories, I thought.

I rushed to the building, and inside. A half broken staircase was against one wall, and I hurried up it. At the top, big stone blocks was arranged in a way that made climbing them possible, so I climbed as quickly as I could manage.

I stood at the top of the roof, my t-shirt fluttering in the wind. I brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and drew my bow. I was level with the demon's other eye now. I just needed to get its attention. "Hey!" I screamed. "Ugly!"

The demon turned, and fixed its fiery eyes on me. My insides felt like a puddle of water, but I gritted my teeth and slowly raised my arm, reaching for an arrow.

Unfortunately, just as my fingertips were brushing the arrow, the demon raised it's boomerang. "Ha-di!" It bellowed.

A glowing red picture flashed in the air, and I knew in my heart that this was it, as searing pain ripped through my body, and I collapsed forward, free-falling two stories down.

Pain. Red. Flashing.

My eyes fluttered open, the harsh sunlight sending shoots of pain to my head. I groaned, but the sound that came out was barely audible.

"Y/N?"

A broken voice. Tears. Pain.

"P-Percy?" I tried to say, my vision blurry. My senses were dull; I couldn't feel anything but the horrible pain.

Everywhere. Pain. A bright light.

"No, Y/N, it's okay," my best friend said, as I lay dying in his arms. I had no idea how I was even alive at this point, I'd fallen all the way to the ground. I'd been hit by that magic spell thing, how was I even breathing?

Breathing. Pain. Ragged.

My short, laboured gasps for air sent sharp shoots of pain rocketing through my lungs and chest. My head pounded, and something warm and wet was trickling down my temple. My vision swam in and out, blurry and indistinguishable.

Pain. Crying. Love.

"No!" Percy's voice was becoming more desperate. "No! You can't take her! You can't!" He was screaming at the sky. "Leave her be! Take me instead! You can't!"

Sobs broke out of him, ripping my heart to shreds. "Don't... don't cry for me Percy," I managed. I tried to touch his cheek, but the effort to move made me gasp in pain. It was too difficult.

"Y/N..." The way he said my name, the way his voice sounded, it was like shattered glass.

"Percy," I breathed. "I love you."

"No matter what," he cried, tears in his voice.

"No matter what..." I repeated. I was losing my grip on reality. Already, my vision was slipping even further into total darkness, I couldn't feel anything but the pain. I was dying. I was.

Death. Love. Pain.

"No. No, you can't leave me, sweetheart," Percy begged. "You have to stay, you have to wake up!" He started getting frantic. "Help! Somebody help me! I need ambrosia, nectar, something..."

His voice broke, as if realisation had finally dawned on him. Nothing could save me now.

This was the end.

Campers gathered around Percy and I, crumpled in a heap on the ground. The war was won, the demons defeated, but victory had come with a price.

A sacrifice. A life. A death.

"Someone help me..." Percy sobbed, holding onto my limp body as he cried. "I love you, Y/N..."

My last glimpse of this life were of his sea-green eyes, filled with tears, as they gazed into my own. Darkness filled my vision, and everything went black.

Death. Dark. Nothing.

#percy jackson #fanfiction #pjo #fanfic #rick riordan #percy jackson x reader #pjo fanfic #percy jackson fanfiction

[miss-celestia13]

The Ending You Deserve

Jake x MC - Duskwood One Shot

I wanted to practice angst and creating suspense. This happened. It has a touch of humor, a hint of fluff, and other things! Sassy MC. No smut for a change. It feels weird 🤭

Can Jake run from death and make it to MC?

Or will his demons win the race?

MC isn't named or described as it was more for the emotions. It's all from Jake’s POV.

Pain. 

Aching. Cold. Hot. Burning, burning, burning. It rolled through him in waves.

He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t see.

Dread wove through his internal organs and strangled him from the inside like an invasive vine had taken root in the core of himself.

Smoke and ash choked his airways as he stumbled and tripped through the mine.

His heart rattled savagely against his ribs.

It felt like a creature in its death throes, trying to break out of his chest.

His foot collided with a jagged, jutting rock and he went down like a house of cards. Crumpled and folded as he rolled and rolled.

Hissing as tiny sharp stones cut into his face and hands.

Ash ridden sweat trickled down his face and stung the many small slices leaking blood as he lay on his back panting and cursing himself as the ominous orange glow of raging flame inched along the underground tunnel.

The air grew thinner and thinner.

The smoke grew thicker and thicker. 

The gasoline fueled fire was a monster bearing down on him and he scrambled to his trembling feet. Taking off at a staggering jog, one hand braced on the rough, dirty wall.

A pinprick of light opened up far ahead and a jolt of adrenaline surged through his bloodstream. He hurried, panting and terrified, breathing too shallowly as the rising heat nipped at his neck.

He knew he had a choice to make.

It was death by fire or FBI.

Neither option appealed to him, but as he looked back and saw the swirling, furious flames licking nearer and nearer. He knew he had to decide.

It wasn’t fair.

He wasn’t innocent or free from any wrongdoing. But he didn’t deserve to die like an animal, run over and left bleeding out and twitching on the side of the road until he grew cold and stiff. 

No one would miss him.

No one would look for him.

He was all alone. It was a surety. He was always, always alone.

That’s not true though, is it, Jake?

It hasn’t been for a while now.

The voice in his head made his breath catch, and his heart pounded painfully in his throat.

It felt as though someone had reached inside his chest, broken through his flesh, muscle and grasped his bones to pry them apart, an invisible fist that gripped his pulsing heart and shoved it in his mouth. Forcing him to swallow it.

It beat there like a Wardrum. Marching him to his death. 

It throbbed and choked and filled his mouth with copper. He couldn’t stand it. The pain was corrosive as it ate through his nerves and left them exposed to the heat and acrid taint of smoke.

She is waiting for you. Don’t let her down.

You PROMISED.

A soul deep sigh huffed through his nose as his feet sped up, pebbles and broken glass crunched under his boots as he raced toward the gradually growing dot of light.

The roaring fire and echo of his escape bounced off the stone and haunted him as he ran for his life.

Four years of running.

Four years of searching and shame and seclusion. Running had been his gift. His lifeline. 

Yet he felt wholly unprepared for this last sprint.

He was tiring.

Steps shortening faster than his scalding breath as black smoke slithered overhead and wrapped its insidious tentacles around his body.

He would not make it.

He would not see her after all.

The thought felt like a poisoned blade sinking into his chest. He could feel the barbs of it twisting and cutting through sinew.

He would soon bleed out without a sound.

The fight left him as the intangible knife punctured his hope and foolish dream of having a love he didn’t deserve.

They’d been writing their own story, filling the pages with dreams and fragile, flourishing love.

He felt like coming here was akin to him tearing out those pages and ripping them up.

It broke him so completely he almost stopped and let the flames embrace him.

He could already smell the sickly sweet and pungent scent of his blistering flesh. Like tanning leather over a flame.

He was going to burn.

It would hurt more than he already did.

It would roast through his flesh, flay it from his bones and incinerate muscle and blood to dust.

He could already feel it.

Creeping closer, singing the hair on his nape, and filling his nose with the cloying scent of dangerous smoke.

No one would know it was him.

Nothing would remain for her except blackened bones and the memory that he had gone to the mine instead of her.

She would blame herself for this.

It would destroy her.

And it was all his doing.

No.

Never.

He wouldn’t be a cause of her pain anymore than he already had.

A burst of fresh speed and determination glittered through him as the fire drew so near he could feel the flames whispering in his ear.

Too slow, Jake. It’s too late.

You can’t run away from this.

Your luck has faded.

He forced it aside and sobbed through his clenched teeth as the dot of light swelled and came toward him.

His legs were heavy. Growing weightier with every leap over fallen support beams and shattered rock.

His rabbit heart raced faster and faster. It deafened him to the groaning, popping wood as the fire devoured it.

Tears streaked through the soot and blood on his face. Leaving pale tracks through the grime and coating his chapped lips with brine.

His vision blurred as his emotions broke free of the locked and coded vault he’d stuffed in the back of his hive mind to come here.

He attempted to shove them back in.

It didn’t work.

They spilled out and utterly overwhelmed him.

He’d spent years locking them down. Beating them into submission, so they listened to him and not him to them. The steel and stone fortress he erected around himself had already crumbled for her and there was nowhere left to hide.

He’d given her everything he had, and it wouldn’t be enough.

You always knew you weren’t enough. Let’s not think too highly of ourselves.

She deserves better than this.

Better than you.

That is a truth you will never escape.

His heart fractured as his mind fought against him and his flagging spirit frayed further.

She deserved better than this.

He was failing her. Had failed her since he let her in.

He’d always known he’d cause her future hurt.

He just hadn’t expected it would come so soon. That he wouldn’t get to watch from afar as she healed from his vanishing.

They had always lived on borrowed time.

And now, the fire was so close sweat slid like rivers down his back and legs, eating away at his nerves as they flared wildly under his soaking skin.

Jake knew it was futile. The ball of light in his vision seemed to run away from him as his eyes blurred and cleared repeatedly. His hands curled into two tight fists and he fought the urge to punch the wall in fury.

He bit down on the inside of his cheek instead. Biting down hard until the skin gave and blood welled over the tattered edge, glazing his tongue with the buttery, metallic taste of it.

It acted like a stimulant.

His eyes focused and his heart pounded fiercely as he ran and ran and ran.

Feet pounded stone as fire blazed through the mine. He had to outrun it.

He would outrun in it.

There was no other option as his blood pressure skyrocketed and his breath became harsh, shallow.

The fire sucked away the air before it could go in as he tried to gulp it down.

There was no oxygen.

His insides kept writhing and twisting.

They knotted up and up so tightly he swore felt something tear. Something that made him cry out as the air was crushed from him.

He could see shadows in his periphery. Specks of darkness and sparks of light as his lungs ached and screamed for oxygen. For rest.

Resting meant dying.

Dying meant failing her.

Failing her was never an option before.

It couldn’t be one now.

He put his head down and ran.

He jumped over another wooden beam as the light ahead broadened and he landed atop aged wooden boards.

He only had time to scream as they broke under his weight and their age.

Jake fell. And fell and fell.

He screwed his eyes shut before he hit the ground.

The impact was so brutal, he almost wished it had killed him.

He hit the ground with a resounding whack.

His head cracked off the stone. Pain, blinding and bleeding, radiated through his skull and brain, frying his rationality completely and leaving room for fear to consume him wholly.

Warmth seeped across his scalp and his hand came away, stained in crimson when he reached to feel the damage. 

Head wounds bled worse than they were and the gash didn’t feel too bad once the stinging pain subsided a little. He internally surveyed the rest of himself. Finding nothing broken despite his ribs feeling as though a giant had stomped him flat.

Dirt and blood coated his teeth as he wheezed and coughed. Choking and spluttering as he tried to get a handle on himself.

He’d bitten through his lip, and it bled like a bitch.

Something was stabbing into his shoulder. 

As he stared up at the hole he fell through, a sensation like a thousand razor blades slicing down his skin moved down his spine, coiling in his lower back. It swirled there, a ball of cutting, primal fright that soon bled through the rest of him.

A rickety ladder leading up and out offered a small ray of hope.

He clung to it and calculated how long it would take to climb in his current condition. 

Fire scoured over the opening and left no place for him to escape.

His hope died with a breathless whimper.

He barely even heard it as agony rippled through his bones and he rolled onto his knees, panting.

“Fuck!” He spat. The word was more like a vicious curse as it rebounded off the mine walls and into his ears.

Mocking him as he squinted into the darkness and tried to figure out what to do next.

The fire would keep the police and FBI away from the mine until it burnt out. They wouldn’t rush in until it was safe enough. He knew that.

He could use that.

Jake kneeled on the filthy ground and schemed.

The temperature rose and rose as he shuffled through his thoughts.

He neatly ordered and arranged everything, thinking of his brain like a filing cabinet.

He could slide one drawer open and find a treasure trove of data and memories.

Some would get stuck as he tugged at them. Rusty and dusty, hardly ever opened for fear it would cut off his ability to feel nothing.

He pulled at one that had eroded so much he had to kick it and smash it to smithereens to pull the files out.

It was like opening Pandora’s box and expecting sunshine to pour forth. 

A veritable flood of emotion, memory, and agony spilled free of the mental drawer and absolutely annihilated his hold on himself.

He’d forgotten what it was like to feel everything so fully.

Everything of the last few years had felt like he was competing against time itself. And time was humanity’s greatest enemy. There was never enough of it and it actively fought back when you tried to beat it.

It was a losing game and in order to keep playing, he’d become a ghost.

He muted everything that made him human in order to survive.

Calculated.

Clinical.

Cold.

Jake was all of that.

Now, he felt everything.

He wanted to survive. He wanted to live.

Lingering as a phantom on the periphery of reality no longer appealed to him. He wanted to feel and touch and be. He wanted everything life had to give.

The bitter and the sweet. The hurt and the relief. All of it.

Jake just wanted.

And when Jake wanted something, he got it.

He pushed up on his hands. Curling his fingers into the gravelly dirt and ignoring the bark of pain as his nails cracked and split.

His blood mingled with the muck, and he clambered to his feet.

Everything ached and bled and felt so heavy he could barely put one foot in front of the other as he carefully headed down the tunnel he’d dropped into.

His throat was raw. Torn to shreds from smoke and screaming. His hands quaked and his mouth was so dry his tongue curdled in his mouth as he smacked his lips together and tried to create some lubrication.

It was useless. He needed water.

He needed to rest soon, or he would pass out in sheer fright and exhaustion.

It’s too late, Jake.

Give up.

Only fools persist in fighting when the odds are stacked.

Jake’s head throbbed as he thrashed it, as if to dispel the sinister crooning, and muttered, “The odds are always stacked. It’s how you play the system.”

The voice went quiet again, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he tripped over rock and wood, hands scrabbling at the walls to ensure he wouldn’t get himself lost.

He risked taking his phone out of his pocket, scowling at the shattered screen as message after message came through.

MC: Jake. You can’t just tell a woman you love her and then ignore her!

Answer me.

Please.

Just give me a sign. A smoke signal. Send a damn carrier pigeon if you have to! They’re saying there’s no way in or out. But I know better. You’ll find a way. 

Keep going. Please don’t give up. You’re not alone in this. I won’t allow it.

If you die, I will hunt you down, drag you back and kill you again. You must live, Jake. Not for me, not for Hannah or Lilly, but for you. You will make it back to me.

He swiped them away. Deleting them. They made his heart shiver and fracture more. The rubious fissures would leave silver scars behind. He groaned as another came through and he immediately memorized the coordinates she gave him. Deleting the message once he had. He put all his remaining energy and will into planning his escape.

His mind wheeled with memories from before.  Prior to being forced into hiding, he had experienced a life of color and fluctuating joy. It wasn’t a perfect life, but it was his. The day he had to leave it all behind, he’d severed all strands of his old life and assumed the identity of many and none. 

He’d learned a lot about humanity and its cruelty in that time. He knew how it worked.

Life was a battle against human cruelty. It always was and always would be. Wisdom, strategy, and hope were the only factors that could hope to gain over cruelty.

And his hope lived on. 

Hope, he understood it lived with her now. He’d given her it and she had offered him her own. He would not waste it.

He flicked through his brain and memories, shelving what didn’t matter and keeping what did. Everything that made him ache, he kept. Everything that made him feel safe, he lost.

If safety meant being alone, lost in a mine until he either burned or starved to death, he didn’t want it.

He reached into the mental vault containing their chats. 

Their conversation about her coming here was the most potent file he had, and it would fuel him to make it out.

She had complimented his research on the mine and he’d told her about some entrances/exits.

He informed her of the ones he thought were most likely to get him caught. It was a manipulative decision, so she wouldn’t get the stupid idea of following him.

He kept one exit loaded like a bullet in the back of his mind.

It was risky.

It was idiotic. 

Still, Jake took off running for it. 

The tunnel was narrowing as he traveled along it. He had to duck before long.

His heart still frothed behind his sternum. Relentless and out of time, with his sawing breath as the walls closed in on him.

He had to crouch now. His head scuffed off the rugged ceiling and he bit back a shout as the pain merged with that of the wound still leaking blood on the back of his skull.

He felt drained. His body became so weighty, he was grateful when the tightening passage forced him to his hands and knees.

Jake crawled and crawled. Palms scraped and searing as sweat irritated all his grazes. His eyes prickled with fresh tears as a draught of fresh air snaked into his nose.

Dread rose to swallow him, but he kept going. He didn’t know what awaited him on the other side, but it was better than dying alone, never to be mourned or found.

The fear of being arrested was so strong it almost halted him as he squeezed through the ever shrinking tunnel and felt like he was caught in a vice.

If he got stuck—No, he couldn’t think it.

He had to turn his fear into a weapon. Run from this place and reclaim his name. The sweat on his brow, the blood running through his veins; it was that of a survivor.

This was just another glitch.

He told himself that over and over as he army crawled through the crushing mine.

He was blind.

The darkness entrenched him.

It would entomb him if he allowed it.

His coat snagged on the rough wall and dragged him back. He shook his sore body as much as the tight space would allow and panted through his clenched teeth.

It kept sticking. He had stretched his hands ahead of him.

There was no room or way for him to tug the fabric free.

His heart stopped dead in his chest.

Helplessness stole his flagging fight, and he slumped into the dirt, hiding his filthy face in it.

Abruptly, Jake started sobbing like a child. Great, gasping cries tore from him and his entire body shuddered with it. So violent and soul destroying he couldn’t temper it.

No matter what he did, it went against him. He’d never worked with such horrendous odds. His brain was a mess of emotion and regret.

He wished he’d written everything he felt and hoped for them down and mailed the letter to her before he entered the mine, but he’d been cocky then. Too confident in his ability to escape any trap or cage.

Jake gave up and accepted his fate.

If he died, if that was his due, there was no stopping it. He’d been living off begged and borrowed and stolen time for years.

It had finally caught up to him.

He was so lost in defeat. Consumed by it. His throat contracted, and he felt like he might be sick.

He hoped he choked on it.

Make it quick.

“I don’t want to die,” He whispered without meaning to and his mouth kept moving, the words kept falling from his bloodstained lips, “Not like this, anything but this.”

His heart shriveled and went cold as he struggled and tried to shuffle forward. He couldn’t breathe properly. All his weight was on his front. His ribs felt bruised and cracked, every tiny inhale felt like a sledgehammer blow.

It is over, Jake. Feel that? The cold creeping in? Soon, it’s all you’ll know. This darkness? It’s all there is. All there ever will be. It’s what you –

“-- I don’t deserve this.” Jake growled with a certainty he’d never known.

Adrenaline coursed through him, lighting up his veins and filling him with new trembling energy as if someone had injected him with a drug.

He rocked and shook his body until his bones jolted and his skin felt too tight. He forced what little breath he had out through gritted teeth and felt the tendons in his neck straining as he dug his fingers into the dirt and put all his strength into pulling himself free.

The sound of fabric ripping caused his heart to start beating again.

He gave a laugh like shattering glass.

Unhinged and desperate as the momentum of his coat coming free shoved him forward a few feet.

From there, it wasn’t easy. He felt like a clumsy serpent as he slithered through the mine.

He kept laughing. His heart kept pounding.

The voice in his head was silent as his hands connected with something that fell away as he shoved at it.

Glorious, clean night air hit his sweaty face, and he gulped it down as he pulled himself out of the horrible tunnel.

It seemed to cling to him. Like invisible hands tugged on his ankles to keep him trapped. He refused to allow it.

Damp earth, long green grass, and dried leaves crunched under his hands as he lay on his back on the forest floor and stared at the starry sky.

He considered the spectacle of stars as the greatest gift he could have received. He analyzed it, finding the North star and thinking of the co-ordinates MC had given him. He quickly checked them on his phone before he threw it away, and was relieved when he discovered it wasn’t too far to make it there on foot.

If he headed in a North- Easterly direction, he could make it there at sunrise.

He didn’t bother looking toward Duskwood, didn’t need to know how close his pursuers might be or he’d lose his nerve.

He shakily got to his feet and started walking.

Time meant nothing to him as he traipsed through forest and open fields. He stayed away from the roads he knew were always busy.

In his current condition, some good samaritan would call for help thinking they were aiding him when in fact they’d be signing his death.

He was so tired. It clung to him like a shroud of smothering fog he would never break out of.

He kept moving. 

Through shadow and moonlight, he kept walking and ignored the pain in his body as best he could. 

There was no end to his exhaustion as pink tinged sunlight shimmered through the pines.

The sun was rising.

How strange, he thought, that his world could burn down around him and yet the sun still rose.

He eyed it and felt strange, like it was an abstract painting absolutely out of place in this world of cruelty, death, and flame.

No matter how deeply or irrevocably the world burned. No matter how thick the shadows grew and the amount the freezing darkness consumed, the sun would always rise.

It filled the world with light, warmth, and color and precious hope.

He felt the soft warmth kiss his hurting face, and it energized him as he broke out of the cover of trees and came to a halt in a motel parking lot.

Jake frowned, glancing around in suspicion and doubt as he failed to understand. Why would she send him here? He hadn’t stayed here. It was too out of the way.

And just how did she know of it?

He stood straight and fear thickened in his throat as his attention snagged on a window. The curtains had moved. He was sure of it.

He moved as though to sink back amongst the trees, but the creak of a door opening made his head snap toward it.

A small, slender hand poked through the gap in the door, beckoning him. He was moving toward it before he could give his feet the command.

His heart picked up speed again. His pulse and distress ratcheting up and infusing him with tension like someone was turning a screw too tightly.

He was only a few steps away from the door now. His skin felt too sensitive and everything hurt in some way. His throat felt like he’d been eating sandpaper and gravel.

The shake in his hands intensified, flight or fight. His nervous system couldn’t decide.

As he hesitated, a female voice trailed through the open door and it was like a salve on his exposed nerves. He had heard that voice, he could recognize it anywhere.

His heart raced for an entirely different reason as he listened to it.

“It’s safe. Come in and I’ll explain.”

Jake didn’t care about her explanation as the adrenaline left him so suddenly he drooped and nearly dropped to his knees.

He tripped through the door instead.

She didn’t give him time to rake his gaze over her the way he wanted to. She gripped him and forcefully dragged him into an embrace, causing him to groan in pain as it aggravated his many minor injuries.

She instantly pulled back, grimacing and apologetic.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. Here, I have supplies. I figured one of us would get shot or stabbed or maimed. It felt important to be prepared. Thankfully, the worst injury I’ve had is paper cuts. You don’t look like you’ve been so lucky. Are you bleeding anywhere? What do I do first? Are you burnt? You smell like someone roasted you over a spit! Are yo-”

Jake chuckled roughly at her babbling. Touched and amused by her care and thoughtfulness.

It was the first genuine laugh he’d had in years, and it turned into a cackle before long. It just slipped out of him and sounded more like crying by the end.

His gritty eyes closed as emotion swallowed him and he welcomed the darkness they offered.

It was familiar.

It was safe.

He woke hours later very confused and so stiff it felt like he was breaking his bones to sit up. His grunt of pain escaped his teeth as a lilting voice cut through the static in his mind.

“Oh, good. I was worrying. That’s nothing new, but you look like someone just dug you out of your grave. I cleaned and patched you up as best I could without stripping you. I thought I’d let you buy me dinner before we got to that stage!”

Her tone was light and filled with humor, but there was an edge of despair and anxiety in it that told him she’d fussed over him the entire time he slept.

His sluggish heart resided in his empty stomach as she approached him slowly like she thought he was an injured animal and she was afraid to spook him.

“Where are we? Why are you here? You promised to stay away.” He managed as he accepted the glass of water she offered him.

His fingers left dirty streaks on the glass as the dirt mingled with the condensation. The water was cold and crystal clear and he gulped it down to clear the sour taste out of his mouth.

She huffed at his words and waited for him to sink the water before she responded, “Typical. I come and help you and you scold me. Well, shove it.  If it weren’t for me and Alan, you would be dead or rotting in a cell. And I did stay away! I didn't go to the mine, did I?” 

His gaze flew to her indignant face, lovely and open despite the fury razing hell in her narrowed eyes.

He felt shocked that he could speak because his tongue felt so thick in his mouth. “My apologies. I’m still—I’m sorry... Alan? I thought he would be more interested in helping them catch me?”

She smirked, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she sat down beside him.

“That was until I ripped him a new one. The fire helped most, but Alan is currently playing down your involvement to give us time. He’ll make contact with us once we find a safe place to stay.”

He opened his mouth to demand she go back home, and he’d message once he was safe, but she flung up a hand to silence him.

“None of that. I’ll explain better once we know the scope of the fallout in Duskwood. But I am coming with you. No, if ands or buts about it, Jake. I make my decisions, not you. The last time someone tried to decide for me, I bit them. Don’t make me bite you too. Are you in?”

Her eyes were hard and unwavering, not a sliver of doubt to be found.

Everything inside him protested against dragging her into his mess, but he was tired.

He was tired of being alone.

He was so tired of losing everything.

Four years of fatigue and depression sank through him like a millstone and he hung his head in defeat. He was in no condition to run alone, anyway.

And he didn't want to. It was selfish. It was daft. But he didn't care.

He hadn't expected to survive this long. Plus, she had been his reason to make it out. He sighed and let his shoulders curl inward. Having someone else to protect would keep him sharp and ready for anything. She must've sensed his resolve weakening. 

She reached out and threaded her clean fingers through his muddy ones, dark and light; he thought stupidly as his skin tingled at the contact.

It had been so long since he’d been touched gently. With obvious affection and because someone wanted to, not because they had to. 

He was used to bruises and hurt. This was — this was what he'd survived for. 

He’d forgotten what it felt like as he met her gaze and felt his stomach fluttering with something that felt like excitement.

It felt like hundreds of tiny birds had taken flight in his abdomen and a frisson of tentative anticipation filtered through him. 

Her eyes glittered and his mouth twitched with the want to smile as he gave his response.

“I’m in.”

—————————

Thank you for reading. I hope it was worth your time despite this being done so many times before me. Oh, and if you leave a comment or reblog, thank you. It is appreciated ❤️

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[1800-fight-me]

Broken vows

Part One 

Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Rating: E - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 

Warnings: Explicit sex, infidelity, angst- oh so much angst, canon level sexism, the reader is a lady of a great house but the house is unspecified and the reader has no description. (As a forewarning, though this story has dark themes and tons of angst it absolutely will have a happy ending!) 

Word count: 7.3k 

Synopsis: You and Aemond have been best friends since childhood and in love with one another since you were teens. What happens when your father weds you to another man? 

Author’s note: It’s finally here! I’ve worked so hard on this fic and can’t wait for y’all to read it! Thank you so so much to my lovely beta readers @just-here-for-the-moment and @adderess​ y’all are the best!! P.S. Here’s a link to my masterlist if you’d like to check out my other writing! My askbox and taglist are always open! Come interact with me! Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Aemond Masterlist            Part Two Part Three Epilogue

“Please, father, please don’t do this,” you begged as tears streamed down your face. 

“It is already done and you are expected to do your duty,” he said sternly, without feeling. 

“Please, if you care for me at all as your daughter do not wed me to that awful stuffy old lord,” you cried. 

“It is final. You will marry him and put thoughts of the prince out of our mind. It was foolish of you to be so stupid to allow yourself to fall in love. I will hear no more of this. We leave in the morning to wed you to Cregan Stark,” he said harshly and turned to leave. 

“You would rip your only daughter from everyone I know and was raised with and isolate me in the north with a man I’ve never met,” you yelled at his back. 

He turned back to you, his hand on the door handle, “Do not pretend to mourn anyone but the prince you are so besotted with. We shall leave at first light,” he said firmly and finally before he left and the resounding boom of the door shutting behind him caused you to fall to your knees and sob. 

It took a long time for the tears to dry as you thought of the ruination of your life that was sure to come from your father’s decision. 

You snuck out through the tunnels you found in your room at the Red Keep years ago when you were a child. 

You snuck your way to the dragon pit and could finally feel yourself breathe again as you saw him. 

His back was turned to you and his long white hair gleamed in the moonlight as he ran his hand across Vaghar’s scales. 

“Aemond,” you whimpered, eyes full of tears again as you realized this would be the last time you saw him before you were shipped off and married to a stranger. 

He turned and took you in with an intense expression. 

“Come here, dear heart,” he said as he pulled you into his arms. 

You cried into his chest as he rubbed his large hand up and down your back and held you tightly. 

“Your father is an imbecile,” he finally said, his voice low and full of anger. 

“I hate him,” you sobbed. 

“You are mine. You should be mine and mine alone. If you were wed to me you would be a princess of the realm rather than just the lady of a frozen patch of unwanted land,” he said through clenched teeth. 

“I want to be yours,” you whimpered. 

“He turned down my mother’s proposal for us to be wed. His decision is beyond my comprehension,” he said with a kiss to your forehead. 

“Can we…” you trailed off, unsure of your own words. 

“My mother forbade me from spiriting you away on Vaghar and wedding you this night. It would mean war between our houses, war we cannot afford to wage at this time,” he said and you could hear the grief in his voice. 

There were no more tears to be shed. You looked up at him and placed your hand on his cheek. 

“Let me be yours, at least just for this night, take me one more time, Aemond. Make me yours, please,” you said and the words were barely out of your mouth before he kissed you, no - devoured you, in a kiss full of fire and passion. 

You spent the night with Aemond, your body entangled with his in pleasure and love and the next morning you faced your fate with a face of stone and a mind full of comforting memories of your lover. 

_______________________

Three years later 

You strode into the Red Keep next to your husband and attempted to keep yourself from trembling. 

King Aegon had requested the presence of the Starks and nearly all other important houses in the seven kingdoms for the celebration of his twins’ name day. 

You weren’t sure how you felt about visiting your childhood home again after years of being gone. 

Part of you wished you could’ve stayed in Winterfell, as much as you hated it there, at least you could avoid the emotional heaviness of being back home. 

You hadn’t seen or heard from Aemond since you left. It was too dangerous for you if he were to write to you and though he was the prince, there was no plausible excuse for him to visit you in your husband’s house. 

You missed him desperately and more so with each day that passed. 

Time had not lessened your love for him. No, your dragon had lit a fire within you that would never go out. 

There was certainly no love between you and your husband. He was not harsh with you, but treated you as a duty and a burden he must endure. 

You loathed when he called you his wife. You had dreamed of Aemond calling you that since you were a young woman. 

You entered the throne room and your eyes darted around as you looked for him.

He towered where he stood, his presence strong and intense, next to the throne. His hands were clasped behind his back and his hair had grown longer, nearly to his waist now. He appeared to have put on muscle in the years you had been gone. He looked good and your heart clenched in your chest. 

As he spoke quietly to Aegon, his jaw sharp as his face was turned away from you, you took your time to take him in and control your own emotions. 

You could not allow them to show on your face. 

The king’s guard announced you and your husband’s arrival and Aemond turned to face you. 

He was breathtakingly beautiful. You worried your heart would gallop out of your chest. 

His lips pursed as he took in your husband and then his eye landed on you. 

You knew him well enough to see the emotion he tried to hide so well as he took in your form and then stared into your eyes. 

You hoped he had similar thoughts about you as you had about him. Winterfell had not been easy on you, but you did your best to present yourself well today. Your lady’s maid had been exasperated with you when you changed your dress three times before settling on the one you were currently wearing. 

Aemond nodded slightly at you and you curtsied back. Your husband mistook Aemond’s nod for himself and your curtsy for Aegon as he too nodded back before he bowed. 

You sat at the feast and resisted the urge to bang your head on the table before you. 

Your husband largely ignored your presence as he spoke with the other lords around him and on your other side sat your father, whom you were hardly on friendly terms with. 

You did your best to not acknowledge the feeling of Aemond’s eye on you as he smoldered at you from across the room, but your body temperature raised each time you could feel his attention. 

Your eyes met his and he smirked softly at you as if he could tell the way he flustered you and took pride in it. 

Your father looked over at you and you quickly looked down at the table. 

“You are not to speak to him,” he hissed in your ear. 

You turned and glared at your father. 

“There are already rumors of you being unable to bear a child as you have failed in your duty thus far. I will not have additional rumors of you being a whore because that entitled prince cannot keep his hands off of you,” he whispered in your ear, his tone harsh. 

“Nothing has happened,” you retorted with your eyes narrowed at him. 

“And nothing will,” he replied firmly and you huffed but refused to reply. 

It was an exquisite pain to sit across a crowded room from the love of your life and have duty and your roles in life form a harsh unbreakable line between the two of you. 

You didn’t know what changes time had wrought on his life and subsequently his feelings for you, but you burned for him. 

A heat and desire you hadn’t felt in years ignited inside you once again as you felt his gaze linger on you once again. You refused to look back. 

Your husband turned to you, “Do you wish to greet the king and his family with me? They are your childhood friends, are they not?” 

You didn’t think you had the willpower to refuse him as being closer to Aemond was what every fiber of your being wanted. 

“Yes, that sounds nice,” you said demurely. 

He led you arm in arm, which you loathed, to stand before the Targaryen’s table. 

No proper introductions were needed this time for they were completed when you first entered the throne room. 

Instead Helaena called your name excitedly and hurriedly rounded the table to wrap you in a hug. 

“Helaena, how I’ve missed you,” you said as you hugged her back. 

“We must catch up. It has been far too long,” she said as she pulled back and gripped your hands. 

“Yes, perhaps a walk through the gardens tomorrow,” you said excitedly and she nodded. 

Alicent then appeared by your side and pulled you into a hug. 

“My dear, you look well, how is winterfell treating you?” she asked as she pulled back and looked at your face. 

You glanced over at your husband who was deep in conversation with Aegon and Aemond, though it was obvious to you that Aemond’s attention was covertly on you rather than the surely dull conversation. 

“It is good. Though I will admit that I have missed King’s Landing,” you said, and once again glanced at Aemond. 

Alicent nodded knowingly, “It will always be your home.” 

You nodded and refused to allow tears to fill your eyes. 

Aegon called your name and you reluctantly turned to join their conversation. 

He slung an arm around your shoulders and you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. 

Your relationship with Aegon was precarious at best, as children you always took Aemond’s side and would always snip back at Aegon when he was being a prick, even going so far as to prank him back a few times. 

You knew Aegon was only embracing you to piss off Aemond, his idea of humor was nearly always at his brother’s expense. 

“How I’ve missed you,” the King said and you shot him a warning glare. 

“Do you remember when we were children and you and Aemond would always hide away in the library so to tease you I released a flock of birds into your little sanctuary?” Aegon said with a laugh. 

You merely sighed. 

Helena’s attention had wandered across the room and Alicent appeared frustrated with Aegon’s tendency to cause trouble, though she made no comment. 

“Hm, a wonderful prank,” Aemond said in a monotone, clearly unamused tone. 

“They were everywhere, the librarians were furious and you were so upset,” Aegon laughed as he squeezed you. 

Your husband glanced between you and Aegon, clearly confused and not as amused as the king seemed to be. 

It must be disorienting for him to see how closely bound you were to the family of dragons, and yet he did not know the true extent of your attachment. 

“Perhaps you also remember the time I crushed berries in your shampoo and your hair was blue for days,” you said with attitude and with another laugh Aegon finally released you. 

“Aemond, you have not truly greeted our childhood friend, embrace her,” Aegon said with the smile of a snake. 

You took a shuddering breath as you looked at him. 

His gaze was intense and threatened to drown you in a wave of fire. His lips were pursed in irritation at his brother and the moment lasted a heartbeat too long. The awkwardness and tension between the two of you became obvious to those in the small group around you. 

Aemond was a man that only ever showed affection in private moments when it was just the two of you. Certainly not in front of your husband and his entire family. 

It was best that he didn’t embrace you, you didn’t know if you would be able to hold yourself back from melting into his arms, his warmth, his scent. Gods, you wanted him. 

“Perhaps the lady should instead be embraced by her husband rather than continue to be passed around by Targaryens,” Alicent said lightly and efficiently resolved the tension. 

Cregon chuckled awkwardly before he reached his hand out to yours. 

You reluctantly placed your hand in his and allowed him to wrap his arm around you. 

Though, of course his embrace did not last. You did not miss how Aemond’s jaw clenched as he saw your husband touch you. 

Thankfully the conversation quickly moved on as Aegon promised to introduce your husband to all the pleasures of King’s Landing. You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes at that. 

Everyone was placated with more wine and as Aegon and Cregon sank into their cups you decided to take your leave. 

Your husband waved you off without care and with a sigh you left the throne room and the lively party within it. 

You quickly dismissed the knight guarding you as you made your way to your room, grateful that you were given the same room you used to have as a girl and that your husband was given a different room so that you would not have to deal with his drunken state. 

You took deep breaths as you strode through the Red Keep and decided that you could not allow your thoughts to linger on Aemond any longer, it was too dangerous for a woman in your position to be pining over a young love. 

A hand grabbed at your wrist and yanked you into a darkened hallway. Before you could scream there was another hand covering your mouth and you were yanked back into a man’s chest. 

You squirmed and fought and attempted to reach for the dagger hidden underneath your skirts where it was sheathed against your thigh. 

The man snatched your hand as if he knew what you were trying to do. 

“Will you stop fighting me?” Aemond’s voice hissed at you in the dark and all of the fight immediately left you as you realized it was Aemond’s body you were pressed against. 

He sighed and released you.

Of course he knew you were reaching for your dagger, he had been the one to gift it to you and taught you how to use it.  

You quickly whirled around to look at him. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” you snapped at him, but remained careful and kept your voice down. 

“Oh how I’ve missed you, dear heart,” he said with a smirk and had to resist the urge to slap him. 

You settled for a glare which caused him to chuckle. 

“I didn’t know how else to get you alone without causing suspicion,” he said as he glanced around to ensure the two of you were still alone.

“Causing suspicion? You scared the shit out of me! I could have stabbed you!” you whisper-yelled. 

He merely stared at you in disbelief. Of course he would take offense to the suggestion that you could best him in any sort of combat scenario. 

You sighed in exasperation. 

He smirked once again. 

“Have you not missed me, my lady?” he purred and stepped forward and crowded you against the wall. 

He placed a hand on either side of the wall near your head and effectively caged you in. Though, you’d never felt more free. With him, in his arms, was where you always wanted to be. 

“Of course I have,” you said but you refused to look at him for fear of what his stare could make you do. 

“Look at me,” he murmured. 

You shook your head as tears filled your eyes. 

He placed a gentle hand on your cheek and turned your head so that you could meet his gaze. 

He wiped the tear away with his thumb as it fell. 

“Meet me tonight. In our spot,” he urged you. 

You sniffled. 

“I cannot,” you said, though your tone was clearly uncertain. 

“Meet me tonight,” he repeated himself, his voice passionate and persuasive. 

“I am married, Aemond. I cannot meet you anywhere, if anyone even found me speaking to you now it could ruin me,” you hissed through clenched teeth. 

“No one will know,” he whispered. 

You shook your head again and looked at the floor. 

“Just to talk, nothing more,” he reassured you. 

You looked up at him once again and your resolve broke. 

Of course you missed your lover Aemond, but somehow, even more so, you missed having him as your friend. 

“Okay,” you said with a nod and his face split into a grin. 

“See you at midnight, my lady,” he said before he pressed a kiss to your forehead then swiftly walked away before you could protest. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the small smile from forming as you strode the rest of the way to your room. 

You announced to your guards that you were feeling ill and to notify your husband that you were not in need of company should he inquire about you, not that he would. 

Once you were in the safety of your room, you walked around in awe as you ran your hand across the furniture. 

It was nearly unchanged from your time spent in it during your girlhood. 

You wondered if that was due to Alicent, though she has her flaws you always felt her motherly love and you loved her as well. You suspected that she was devastated as well that you did not join her family. 

Perhaps she had taken pity on Aemond and that was why he had not been forced into an unwanted marriage as you had. 

You waited anxiously for midnight to come and once it was near you pressed on the large painting next to the bed and it popped open to reveal a hidden passageway. 

It was something you and Aemond had discovered when you were children exploring the Red Keep and running away from Aegon and his reign of terror over the two of you. 

You grabbed the cloak from where it laid on the ground next to the hidden doorway and dusted it off, before you wrapped it around yourself and pulled the hood over your head. 

You snapped the portrait-door shut behind you and crept through the dark passageway, guided only by your memory and your hand on the wall. 

Soon you were deposited outside of the Red Keep and snuck your way through the shadows to the dragon pit. 

“Hello beautiful,” you murmured as you came upon Vaghar. 

The massive dragon cracked an eye open and huffed out a breath at you. 

You giggled at her grumpy temperament and raised and put out your hand in a request for permission to touch her. 

She grumbled in a way that you knew meant it was okay, so you gently ran a hand across the scales of her face and she made a soft pleased noise that made you smile. 

You felt Aemond’s presence behind you as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed his chest to your back. His large hand covered yours as you pet Vaghar. 

“She missed you nearly as much as I did,” he whispered in your ear and his long white hair fell over your shoulder as he did. 

“I missed her as well,” you said. 

“Hm, but not me,” he teased, his voice light. 

You elbowed him lightly in the stomach and turned around to look at him, “Do not jest, Aemond.” 

He watched you warily. 

“I have yearned for you every day these long years but you touch me and speak as if the circumstances are not vastly different from the last time we saw one another.” 

He pressed his lips together. 

“You are mine,” he said lowly. 

“I am not! I am not,” you exclaimed with tears in your eyes. 

Your voice broke as you spoke, “I am wed, Aemond. I have a husband, who I dislike greatly, but he is my husband all the same. My heart will always belong to you, but I cannot be yours any longer.” 

He opened his mouth to speak but you barreled right through him. 

“Have you thought of what would happen to me if I were discovered to be here with you? Allowing you to speak to me to-to touch me so familiarly? I would be branded a whore, my prince. Your prior claim on my heart would make no difference in others’ eyes. I do not think you are taking that seriously enough. It would ruin me.”

He sighed, “Of course I understand, dear heart, I wish for nothing but your safety. I swear to you I will keep my hands to myself until you give me explicit permission to touch you. And even if that never comes, I would still like to enjoy the presence of your company.” 

You sighed and nodded slightly at him. 

He commanded Vaghar to move her head and revealed the spot he had set up behind her, fully protected from any prying eyes by her huge body as she placed her head back in its regular spot. 

The language of Old Valyrian rolled off his tongue and filled you with another rush of desire for him. 

You sat next to him on the blanket, but regretfully far enough that your body did not touch his. You rested your back on Vaghar’s warm scaled body and took a deep breath in, relishing the familiarity. 

He poured you a glass of wine and handed it to you. You smiled at him. 

“Thank you,” you said and you could see him physically restrain himself from reaching out and touching your hand. It cracked at your heart and your resolve. 

“Tell me of your life in Winterfell, how is it?” he asked earnestly. 

“It is cold,” you said and he chuckled. 

You smiled but then looked down at the cup in your hand. 

“Truthfully, it is very lonely.” 

His face was solemn as he waited for you to continue. 

“Other than my lady’s maid Brienne, I feel very alone in the North. My husband treats me as if I am a duty and burden he has to bear. The people of Winterfell are…. cold and unwelcoming. I feel as if I have no voice there and am constantly dismissed. Perhaps I need to stop comparing my current life to my past one, but I have missed your sister and your mother’s company. It is difficult living with so much formality all the time.” 

He nodded at you, understanding that there were no words to comfort you, nothing that could change the duty you had to endure. 

You reached for his hand and allowed him to hold it in his much larger one. 

“I wished to write to you, as I did Helaena but I felt it too dangerous.” 

“I understand. I refrained from writing you as well, I did not want to cause any trouble for you,” he said and squeezed your hand slightly.  

“What of your life? How have you been?” you asked. 

“I have kept myself rather busy with my responsibilities,” he said as he pursed his lips and swallowed. 

“To distract myself from thinking of you,” he admitted quietly. 

Your heart cracked in half as the man you loved so much looked at you, sadness and pain hidden behind longing.

You slipped your hand from his.  

“It seems this time apart has not been easy on either of us,” you said softly and your arms ached to hold him. 

“So many times I rode Vaghar and found myself unconsciously directing her north. I dreamt of unleashing her fire upon Winterfell and bringing you home, leaving only ashes behind us,” he said, his voice dark and deep. 

“Oh Aemond,” you breathed out and your eyes prickled with tears. 

He sighed. “A childish dream I have done my best to shove out of my mind. We are no longer in our youth and must conform to the expectations of us,” he said, tone firm as if he were reprimanding himself. 

“I am tired of conforming, of doing my duty,” you whispered as your fingers grazed his once again. 

“I try my best to not think of you performing your duty,” he said darkly as he looked away from you. 

You dropped your hand from his and looked down. 

“There is no pleasure or joy in it,” you whispered as you stared at your lap. 

“Hm.” 

“Have you…?” you asked as you peeked up at him through your eyelashes. 

He nodded, “I have, though there was no love in it as we once had.” 

You swallowed and nodded, of course you could not expect him to remain faithful to you while you were married to someone else and away in the north. 

Still, it stung. It made you understand how he must feel about you being married to another. 

“There are rumors about me. I have endured my duty for years and yet no child has come of it. You and I always took precautions when we were together to prevent a child but now... people whisper that I am barren and I worry they are correct.” 

“Your value is more than your ability to bear a child,” he reassured. 

You licked your lips and ignored the urge to throw yourself in his arms. 

“Not to men like my husband and my father,” you muttered. 

He sighed. 

“Perhaps you could distract me with tales of your adventures,” you said. 

He smirked, distracting you from your worries was a skill he had developed over years of friendship. 

“Vaghar and I visited Dorne last year,” he told you. 

He enchanted you as he told you tale after tale of his travels, places you’d once longed to see with him. 

You giggled and smiled as he shared with you, a small part of you resented that he was still able to find such joy without you, though he did tell you he always longed for you to be with him. 

You shared with him the few happy stories you had of your time apart. 

You felt close with him once again, as if it were old times and you were still young lovers with your whole lives ahead of you. As if time and circumstances had not ruined what was between you. As if you were friends once again. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you whispered as he stared at you while you laughed. 

“Like what?” 

“Like I’m the center of your world. Like you love me,” the words tasted like acid as they fell off your lips. 

“I do love you. I’ve never once stopped loving you even with time and distance between us,” he said. 

“Aemond” you reprimanded, but your voice was as weak as your resolve. 

“Tell me you do not feel the same way and I shall never speak of it again,” he promised. 

“I can’t,” you said as you bit your lip to try and stop yourself from saying such forbidden words. 

You wished you could force yourself to break his heart now and end this. To walk away from him, but his hold on you was too great and you cared for him too much to hurt him anymore than life had already hurt the both of you. 

As you stared into his deep blue eye you felt your self control finally break. 

“Kiss me, Aemond,” you breathed out. 

It was clear his self control was frayed and broken long before, for as soon as the words fell from your mouth, his lips were on yours. 

His hand at the back of your neck pulled you in as he kissed you near ferociously.  

He devoured you, consumed you, and you submitted to him. You felt at home once again in his arms as he pulled you tight to his body and laid you down. 

You moaned in tandem with him as your tongues tasted each other once again.  

Your entire body lit on fire as you gripped at him and felt his weight on top of you. 

You yanked at his clothes as you kissed him back with urgency. 

“Need you,” you moaned as he helped you remove his coat and shirt. 

You groaned at the feeling of his warm skin and tight muscles under your hands. 

“Fucking perfect,” he moaned as he slipped his hands under your dress to caresss the bare skin of your legs. 

You let out a high pitched, “Oh!” at the feel of his large calloused hands as they roamed up to grip at the flesh of your thighs. 

“Need you inside me,” you gasped as you pressed your lips to his jaw and trailed them down his neck. 

He hissed as you bit down and sucked on the sensitive skin of his throat. 

“Say it,” he ordered as his hands began to unlace the back of your dress. 

You immediately knew exactly what he meant. 

“I’m yours, Aemond.” 

He groaned.  

“Mine,” he whispered against your lips as he slipped you out of your dress and bared you before him. 

The unspoken understanding that you were only his for this night hung heavy between the two of you but you both ignored it as you tangled your hands in his hair and kissed him once again. 

“You still wear it,” he said in awe as he saw your necklace clasped around your throat. The necklace he gave you years ago, when he promised you would be his and his alone. The necklace you always wear and keep hidden under your clothes. The necklace you grasp when you are anxious or lonely or thinking of Aemond. The necklace you lied about to your husband and claimed it was from your deceased mother so he would not question your attachment to it. The small sapphire in the crook of your throat gleamed in the dim light. 

“Of course I do,” you whispered. 

He blinked rapidly, swallowed, and licked his lips to repress the rush of emotions he felt. 

He kissed you in an attempt to make you feel everything he felt rather than have to say it. 

Your hands roamed his body, anything you could reach, his arms, his shoulders, his chest, his torso.  

You gasped as his warm mouth found your breasts.

He felt so good. 

Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his trousers and you wiggled your hand underneath the tight leather to wrap your hand around his hardened length. 

He groaned your name as you gripped him. 

“Need to taste you,” he said before he moved down and placed himself between your thighs. 

Your breath caught at the magnificent sight. 

He hooked your thighs over his shoulders and licked his lips as he stared at your core. 

You whimpered in impatience and desire. 

“How I have missed you,” he said before he finally used his tongue on you. 

The pleasure that racked through your body immediately prevented your question about whether he was speaking to you or your pussy. 

You gripped at his hair as his tongue swirled your clit and your toes curled. 

“Fuck, Aemond,” you breathed out. 

“Mmm,” he moaned into your soaked warmth as he pushed his tongue inside you. 

He gripped your hips tightly and held you in place as he gave you pleasure that you hadn’t experienced in years. 

“I’m so close,” you breathed out and he groaned. 

His perfect lips closed around your clit and he sucked lightly. 

You gasped his name as your release racked through your body. 

He continued to lick you for his own pleasure until you whined and attempted to push his face away. 

He chuckled darkly, a satisfied smirk on his face. 

He stared at you, your chest heaving as you took gasping breaths, while he removed his pants and bared himself before you. 

You whimpered quietly in need. 

He placed his hands on your waist and yanked you closer to him where he knelt before you. 

Your gasp quickly turned into a moan as he, in one fluid motion, buried himself deeply and fully inside you. 

He took a deep breath and the frantic energy within him seemed to settle now that he was inside you. 

His hand traced your body and you arched up to feel closer to him, to give him access to all of you. 

You pulled his face to you, gently and slowly, and kissed him with all the love in your heart. 

His lips moved against yours languidly as if the two of you had all the time in the world. 

“You feel so good,” you whispered against his lips and he nipped at your bottom lip playfully. 

“You are better than all my dreams of you in our time apart,” he said and pressed a long kiss to your lips. 

Then, finally, he moved. In and out of you in long slow thrusts that had you keening. 

You clenched around him and begged him to go faster, to claim you, as harshly and deeply as he wanted, as you could tell he needed by the gleam in his eye.

He complied with a growl as the last of his self control snapped. 

His pleasure was your pleasure as he filled you, moved inside you, and hit the spot inside you only he could find. 

You whined in ecstasy as he groaned your name. You clung to him and your nails dug into his back, which surely left your mark on him. The thought only fueled the raging fire within you. 

“Say it again,” he gasped and you could tell he was near his release as you neared yours. 

“I’m yours, Aemond, yours,” you whined as his harsh thrusts overwhelmed you. 

“Mine,” he groaned. 

“I love you,” you gasped as you hit your peak. 

He groaned your name as his thrusts became sloppy. 

“Where do you want me to-”

“Inside,” you moaned. “Need you to fill me.”

“Fuck,” he moaned and found his pleasure as well. 

“I love you,” he whispered as he pulled you into a kiss so gentle and in contrast to the way he had just claimed you. 

He pulled out of you and before you could mourn the loss he pulled you into his arms as he laid on his back. 

You snuggled into his chest and his hand rubbed up and down your back. 

You swallowed back the rush of emotion that you felt as he held you and expressed care for you rather than leaving you alone as soon as the act was over like your husband did. But of course Aemond would hold you just as he always had. 

You laid there with him and did your best to not fall asleep with how safe and loved you felt in his embrace. 

You sighed in contentment as he kissed the top of your head. 

“Aemond,” you said. 

“Hm.” 

“It is nearly morning, I should go so we are not caught,” you whispered, though you did not want to shatter the comfortable silence. 

He groaned in annoyance. 

“Mm, no,” he said as he hugged you tighter. 

“Aemond,” you chided. 

“I do not wish to see you go again,” he said, barely concealed pain in his voice at the thought. 

“And I do not wish to leave you again but we have little choice,” you lamented. 

He sighed. 

“Perhaps I can visit you again tomorrow night. You are staying for a week’s time, yes?” He said as his gentle fingers traced your side. 

“Yes,” you said weakly. 

You were just drawing out the next goodbye. More time together would just make it hurt more, wouldn’t it? But you were powerless against the pull you felt towards him. 

This was inevitable. It was always going to happen. It was as if the gods had designed the two of you from the same material then cruelly set your fates so that you would not be able to walk through life together. 

He was drawn to you just as you were drawn to him and neither of you had the strength to stay away from one another. The moment your father betrothed you to someone other than Aemond he sealed your fate. 

You became a shell of your former self, a ghost that was only brought back to life by Aemond’s touch, by treachery and broken vows. You deserved the horrible things people would say about you, for they were all true. You loved Aemond so much and would never tell him no, would never deny him your heart or your body, no matter your allegiance to another. 

So you agreed, and for nearly every night you remained in King’s Landing you let Aemond hold you, love you, kiss you, and make love to you. 

“Do not go,” he whispered to you, his lips on yours, the last night of your stay. The sun once again threatened to rise and your time together was sprinting away. 

“I have no choice,” you said as tears streamed down your cheeks. 

You did not know when you would be able to see him again, to talk to him again, to touch him again. 

He stepped back from you and anger overtook his face to mask the broken heart and sorrow. 

“Stay with me,” he pleaded. 

“And what? Be a disgrace to my house? Be your whore? I cannot,” you said, your voice somehow steady despite your tears. 

He sunk down into the nearest chair and placed his head in his hands. 

He sighed deeply and reached out his hand to you. 

You stepped closer to him and placed your hand in his. He gripped you tightly. 

“I see now that I have made this difficult situation much worse by my lack of self control and endless pursuit of you,” he said as he looked up at you. 

You bit your lip to keep your tears from turning into sobs. 

“It is not your fault alone,” you said gently. 

He pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around you. 

You held him as tight as the knot in your chest as he buried his face in your throat. 

“I love you,” you said softly, brokenly. 

“Mm.” 

You sighed. 

“It is a fact of life,” he said. 

“What?” 

“The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Dragons are not completely tameable. Children will always grow old.” 

“Aemond, what are you talking about?” you interrupted him. 

“And I will always love you. It is a fact of life. It is in my nature, my bones, to love you,” he said softly. 

You crushed your lips to his and you couldn’t tell if the salty taste was due to your tears or his. 

“This is not our last goodbye, I promise you we will see one another again, dear heart,” he said as he pulled back with a hand on your cheek and looked deeply into your eyes. 

You nodded and sniffled as you tried your best to stop crying. 

As you watched him leave, you were certain you’d never hurt this much in your entire life. Your heart shattered all over again. It was a physical pain in your chest and you suddenly fully understood the phrase broken heart. 

Sure, your heart was broken when you had to leave him years ago but this… this was somehow worse. 

This was no longer a girlish young love. He was cemented in your heart and yet you still could not fully have him. 

Your heart turned to stone with every mile your carriage took you away from King’s Landing. 

_______________________

9 Months Later: 

Tears streamed down your face as your newborn babe was placed on your chest. The halls of winterfell were no longer full of your screams, but rather your joy. 

“It is a boy, my lady,” the maester said. 

You cradled him close to you and pressed a kiss to his head. 

You blinked away the tears and looked at him, truly looked at him for the first time. 

Your heart stopped. 

“Oh my little dragon heart,” you whispered brokenly, quietly enough that no one else could hear you, as you saw the tuft of white hair on the crown of his head. 

“I shall call for Lord Stark so he may meet his son,” the Maester said as he left. 

You were alone with your Lady’s Maid. 

“Brienne,” you said as you grabbed her arm. 

Her eyes flickered between you and your son. 

“He is beautiful, my lady,” she said. 

“Brienne, you have served me loyally since I was ten and two. Let us be honest with one another,” you said frankly and she nodded vigorously. 

“You know me better than most people and I consider you one of my closest friends.” 

You looked down at your son once again and your eyes filled with tears.

“It must be said now, and never again, I need you to swear to protect my secrets and help me, do you swear?” You asked as you stared into her eyes. 

“Yes, my lady, I swear. My loyalty has always been to no other but you.” 

You nodded and took her hand and squeezed it in gratitude. 

“You know I have loved Prince Aemond since I was a girl. This child is a Targaryen,” you whispered. 

Brienne nodded at you, but tears streamed her cheeks as well. 

“Oh my lady, what have you done?” she asked in gentle concern. 

“Love has led my actions and we must protect this child, he is my dragon heart. Help me, please,” you begged. 

She nodded. 

“I shall talk to the maester. Perhaps he can suggest to Lord Stark that the color of his hair is a birth defect. Does he know of your feelings for the prince? Does he suspect anything?” she asked, she spoke quickly and quietly as you both worried that footsteps would soon be heard coming down the hall.

“No. He performed his duty as a husband prior to me being with child, so he has no reason to suspect anything. He has no knowledge of my relationship with the prince. When I laid with Aemond when we visited the Red Keep, I suspected that I was barren given my inability for years to produce a child. I now see that was due to my husband’s inability to sire children. I hoped all this time that the child was a Stark, but he looks just like my love,” you kissed his perfect face and felt your heart could not swell anymore with love. 

“I will do everything in my power to quell rumors and suspicions. I will also speak with the Maester,” she said as she nodded at you and departed. 

“Oh my love,” you cried brokenly as you held your son and wished that the trajectory of life could have been different. 

That the footsteps coming down the hall could be Aemond’s rather than the husband you have no love for. 

That Aemond could be there to meet his son, to wrap you in his arms and kiss you for your good efforts to bring such a beautiful Targaryen child into the world. 

You felt broken by the thoughts of what could have been. 

You needed to fill yourself with steel, with dragon fire, and fight and claw in a way you had never had to before in order to protect the babe in your arms. 

For if anyone found out the truth, you and the child would be ruined.

To be continued..... Part Two Part Three Epilogue

Everything taglist:

@spideysimpossiblegirl @dinandgone @ohpedromypedro @littlemisspascal @tombraider42017 @kirsteng42 @just-here-for-the-moment @salome-c @hb8301

Aemond taglist:

@fultimefangirl @dumpsterfirecee @adderess @flowerpotmage @theold-ultraviolence @lady-phasma @aemonds-war-crime @schniiipsel @mommyslittlewarcriminal @batsyforyou @signyvenetia @sirenofavalon @ellathefriendlyalpacaaa @padfooteyes @percyjacksonspeen @aemonds-sapphire @wrendermeuseless @mllemarianne @slutforaemond @a-beaverhausen​

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x female!reader #house of the dragon fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond

[ggsbooks123]

Fighting back (part three)

summary: jude wants things to be the way they were before as her memories finally come back to her but to do that, she has to start fighting back…

warning; sadly this is not the final part, some angst and fluff for surez y’all deserve it!

— — —

My mind should have been on the tunnels, on what dangers probably lurked around the corner. The voices against Peeta coming back… my own voice that now haunts me over and over with thoughts that sound… deserving. Instead, I can’t seem to shake Castor’s — Pollux’s brother — retelling of Pollux’s past and why he would be able to lead us through the tunnels.

He’d been an Avox, if I had taken the time to actually fight the thought in my head instead of letting his subdue me, letting it convince me that Peeta was evil. Peeta. I shake my head, waiting as the others climbed down the ladder, I couldn’t even look at him or Pollux now, two people who deserved better.

I clenched my fists as Pollux and I stood alone before the ladder, he stared at me but not in a way that was offensive more that he was reading me. Trying to sense if you’ll kill him next, I frown before quickly stepping down the ladder after Cressida, the daylight from outside began to dwindle more and more as I climbed down, soon the artificial lighting from the tunnel creeped in, it wasn’t anything special.

Lucky for us.

The last thing we needed was a spotlight on us.

Finally joining back with the group all we have to do is wait for Pollux to climb down and when I glance to my right, Castor is beside me with that same questionable look, reading reading reading. I internally tell myself to shut up, it felt like I was a record held on loop, utterly out of my control. Was I getting worse?

“You okay? Pollux wanted to check on you more but wasn’t sure if you were warm to meeting new people yet” Castor speaks with a easy calmness, I envy it even now I can feel my hands shaking and beads sweating at my forehead but still I take a deep breath.

“The-“ Could I say voices? “The thoughts I’ve been having have changed direction, not to anyone of you and it’s not so easy to push down but no one should get hurt by it” No one but you, the voice seems to jeer. He smiles lightly at that but I’m not finished “Pollux is incredibly brave, I- I didn’t take the time to talk to anyone but I had tunnel vision and I wasn’t fighting but now I am and I want to know who I’m fighting with” Somehow his smile widens as Pollux finally comes down and reaches our side immediately seeking comfort in this dark place with his brother.

The others are standing a little away from us, already taking a peek at what lies ahead but it’s nothing but endless tunnel and tracks, surely there wouldn’t be any trains running at the moment. But we’d been lucky with the lights, two times lucky definitely wasn’t our thing. Suddenly an intake of breath makes me glance back at the brothers beside me, Pollux is now sweating profusely and can’t seem to take in a breath for the life of him. Maybe he remembered how you sent his friend to his death, I try to push my voice down so I can focus but it’s weeded within me like a virius. It is me.

Instantly my hand comes to his shoulder, I see Castor beside me reach for his weapon and understand his actions and try not to let myself be hurt by it as Pollux’s eyes connect with mine, I wouldn’t let the Capitol control thrm anymore, not with fear, not while they assaulted me with it.

“They wont hurt you again, Pollux. I swear on my life, you will see the end of Snow” I hear it, trying to sliver back it, Snow’s voice. Kill him, let him burn for- No, not anymore.

And this time, I’m met with silence… An itch remains, but I know it’s self-inflicting and safe, for now.

But i’d fought for them, and I’d keep doing it. I smile at Pollux as he takes a deep breath, Castor’s hand had moved from reaching for his gun to Pollux’s other arm, “We got you, buddy” Pollux smiles gratefully at the two of us, wiping at tears I hadn’t noticed fell before we finally joined the group.

Jackson and Katniss seemed to take lead with Pollux as the rest of tagged behind, as I moved to follow I noticed a certain blonde missing and instantly spin to locate the missing boy and sigh of relief comes out when he’s standing behind me, looking at me and the smallest flicker of hope. But it’s gone in an instant, as he clears his throat “That was nice of you, I wasn’t sure I’d had known what to do”

How heartless do you have to be to be thanked for being nice. My voice heckles me and I clench my jaw.

“It’s awful, I always think I’d had it bad then I actually open my ears to other peoples experiences and I just- I understand now. Why this fight is so necessary, its all clicking” I admit to him, it’s not much to work on but I’d do anything to see that hope in his eyes again, the stars ill never reach… Oh Peeta.

I feel myself reach out for him before I snap back into my body. You don’t deserve him, and you never will. You never did.

I turn and walk to catch up to the others, though my mind is everywhere at once. I want to get better, and be better and stay alive but the nightlock pocket burns and burns and burns, i know that I have to use it, i know that I’m too far gone too far gone too- I shake my head, I need to stop doing that.

My mind is on fire and my feet won’t stop, until I slam into a hard wall. No, my head doesn’t ache and the wall’s arms have closed around me? No, not a wall. I look up, and I frown. Finnick always manages to find me at my worst, how does he do it? I’ll have to ask him some time.

I shake my head, what the hell was I thinking? I had just run off on Peeta and now I was talking about wanting to ask Finnick something, I shouldn’t have run. But my mind is scrambled whenever he latches on and lets go, was this how I’d live? Latching onto to him my whole life, a dead weight chained to his ankle…

“You’re mumbling and kinda freaking me out” Finnick’s voice is like someone taking a sledgehammer to a static tv, the silence is deafening in my skull. I look up at him “I’m sorry for saying anything, this is way creepier” I let out a chuckle and shake my head.

“You’re such an asshole” I whisper, my hand rubbing at my temples as a headache grows there, and the unreachable itch never sways but I’ve grown accustomed to it, sometimes it felt as if it wasn’t there, never like how it evaporates when Peeta touches me though.

I don’t understand, it didn’t work like that with the other voice, I’d tried to kill him enough and our skin had touched, but why now? “I- Peeta deserves so much more than some broken girl” Is all I manage to whisper.

And I’m waiting for it, the obviously, no wonder look at you, it seriously took you this long to figure that out. But they don’t come and when he does speak, I don’t understand how I could think so lowly of him sometimes .

“That guy could live a hundred lifetimes with hundreds of different girls and I’m almost positive that they’re all forgotten when finally meets you” I freeze, looking up at Finnick

“Finnick I-“

“You don’t see because you want him to hate you for what you’ve done, but he loves you so much and I really hope you remember how much you reciprocated that… I thought I loved Annie with everything in me until I saw you looking at Peeta before the 75th games” He shakes his head, a dazed smile on his face “You were looking at your whole life right in front of you, your future and you looked on top of the world”

I bit my lip and close my eyes for a moment because I can feel it, the warmth in my chest and clench of my stomach with how I left him. I did love him with everything in me, and more.

And I couldn’t give up now.

— — —

“Maybe the tunnels weren’t the best idea” Finnick teases after we dashed into another passing tunnel to avoid a train making it’s way through and we all distastefully look at him, his eyes flick between all of us “Top side?” Pollux huffs and I can’t help but smile, poking his head around the corner to make sure everything was clear.

I take the time to look over at Peeta, we hadn’t said anything to each other after I ran off like a child, I wanted to groan into my hands right there. You’re just kids, after what I just did it wasn’t so surprising anymore. I wanted to be able to put all this behind us and give into that hope that he was so easily filled with but I just can’t- Not after Boggs and Mitchell… I close my eyes as we wait for the tram to pass us.

“We definitely can’t stay here” Katniss speaks up, and this time Pollux doesn’t seem to annoyed by the fact, probably because Finnick liked to tease and lighten a situation, and this situation was one that definitely needed it but was a little to obvious when someone did.

Pollux waves over his shoulder before we’re jogging over the tracks that were just being used, quick and together to make sure no one gets left behind and hoping another tram doesn’t soon come through again. But it’s not long before we reach a door and Pollux takes a second to unlock it before quickly rushing inside, and Cressida turned to me quickly, us being the first two behind Pollux “Wanna stay here and make sure everyone gets in?”

My heart warms, she trusted me. I tried not to show how much it meant to me as I nodded, placing my back to the door keeping it open as I rushed the others inside. The first one behind me is Finnick who sends me a wink, probably knowing how much this small tasks means to me.

They’re finally seeing me as a member and not a bomb about to go off. I try not to get my hopes up especially when a certain blonde passes next, he sends me a soft smile, eyes lingering half a second too long before he was out of sight through the door, I let out a breath I hadn’t even noticed I was holding. The next few go by uneventfully, Messalla and Castor who both send me smiles, Messalla a little more strained I knew he was friends with Mitch more so than anyone here. Then holding up the rear is Jackson and finally Katniss.

Her brown eyes burn into mine as I look down at my feet, something that slowly makes it way in is the memories of Katniss. I hadn’t realised how much they had wiped until recently, the voices spitting at me for forgetting her, my best friend. The girl who saved my life when she didn’t even know who I was.

The 74th Hunger games is what I’m tossed back into, watching all the time in between pass before I’m watching myself dart through the forest.

I run and run until I can’t stop, and I know it’s not long away now. The careers’s had broken apart to try to cut me off but I’d managed to lose three of them but one of them were still right on my tail, there was no way I would be able to outrun him, I’d caught a sight of his brown hair and lanky form. Especially with the things I had done in the past twenty minutes to get rid of his three friends. The forest leaves smacked into me and the humid air around me wasn’t helping my panting breaths. I would either stop on my own or collapse and stopping wasn’t an option.

I take the moment of silence behind me to look over my shoulder… there’s no one behind me. I let myself slow as I plant my hands on my knees, desperately trying to suck air into my lungs. I think back to what my mentor said, that I should try and ally with some of the victors but I couldn’t do it, not when I knew I’d have to kill them by the end of it. But now, standing here physically unable to stand on my own, I wish someone was there to watch my back.

Because I hear the footsteps coming from my right far to late, I quickly shoot up just in time for Career’s shoulder to smack directly into my stomach as he tackles me to the ground, even with the fatigue crawling through my bones I struggle underneath him, kicking my legs in every direction but his legs are on both sides of my torso, locking my arms against my body. Panic began to flare within me, I was going to die.

The boy actually laughs as I struggle, it’s sickening to watch and I don’t understand how I could have forgotten the fear and panic I’d felt spewing from me. “Weak little sheep, thought you could survive on your own did ya?” He laughs again, pulling a blade from his waistband, I try to push him off again, and manage to slip my arm out the slightest bit but he quickly swipes causing me to cry out as blood now seeps from my arm, giving him time to lock it back into place with his leg. “Any last words?”

I open my mouth ready to rain every curse word I’d learnt but his face of humour switches to shock as I hear a sickening crunch and an arrow protrudes from his chest, I swallow my gasp as I quickly push him off me, no longer impossible to do since all his strength had been sucked form his body the moment that arrow hit him, redirecting his dead weight to send himself backwards as I scrambled away and looked around in the trees. Who ever had shot that either tried to help me or was trying to kill two birds with one arrow.

Finally a girl steps out from the trees, I shoot up to my feet instantly when I notice the bow trained on me in her hands. I couldn’t remember her name at this very moment but I knew she was from District 12, I still thought about her flaming dress. My designers wouldn’t shut up about Cinna and I myself couldn’t stop thinking about his designs so I couldn’t blame them. “He killed Rue” Are the first words she says, as I look back down at the boy who now lays dead.

“So you would have let him kill me if he hadn’t killed your friend?” I let out a huff, I shouldn’t complain, I was saved wasn’t I. But her standing there with her bow ready to strike didn’t feel to safe. And she doesn’t respond to my question, I fix the straps on my shoulders of my bag before sighing “Want some clean water?” Her eyes perk at that but still the bow stays trained, “I promise I won’t try and kill you” I smile at her and finally the bow drops as she grimaces at me.

“And what if you’re lying” Neither of us realised that we were going to become far more than acquaintances sharing clean water.

I shrug with an even more mischievous grin “You’ll just have to trust me. I’m Jude”

She frowns slightly before slinging her bow over her shoulder and brought her hand towards me “Katniss and you better not be lying or I’ll shoot you next”

“And I believe you”

I feel the memory swirling and changing but I refuse it, this is the memory. I know it, Katniss just being precautious. The only part of the memory that left me stumped was my nonchalance, and outgoing nature. I couldn’t imagine smiling at Katniss a couple seconds after I’d nearly lost my life but I was an incredibly different person back then than I was now. I’m finally back in the sewers, watching Katniss slip past me but my hand catches her wrist. Her gaze meets mine again and this time I speak “Why did you save me in the 74th Hunger Games?” I knew why, she said because the guy had killed Rue. But it didn’t feel right.

Itch itch itch. It grows the more the silence spreads. Did they all feel the need to hesitate and raise my blood pressure?

She looked at me like I wasn’t real before whispering “I knew you’d be important to me, I didn’t know how but I heard you scream and I acted before thinking. After you shared your water with me I planned on ditching you but you have a habit of digging into peoples hearts without them knowing it” She frowns, staring at me so intensely that I have to stop the tears from falling, she barely had looked at me since I’d come and to see her unflinching, it made my heart warm. My other half. I didn’t know how’d I’d gone so long without her. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you-“

I don’t let her finish, my arms shoot around her neck as she returns the embrace immediately “I’m sorry, I should’ve been stronger” I whisper but I feel her shake her head before she pulls away slightly to look at my face and presses our foreheads together.

“We’re together again, we’ve always been stronger together” I smile sadly at her words before she fully pulls way and links her arm with mine “They’re probably waiting on us, ready to head down?” I nod, warming at the rush of memories that slowly flood me, small things like Katniss and I in the water seeing who can dunk the other first, her teaching me how to shoot her bow.

Without Katniss I wouldn’t have survived this long and if I had never allied with her I wouldn’t have won the games with Peeta and her, I would have never met the blonde boy who I thought of night and day, who’d I sacrifice everything for.

That was who Katniss and Peeta are, how could I have ever wanted the hurt them? My best friend and the love of my life, I’ll never go back to that. At that thought the pocket above my heart burns, Only when I have to.

And I find myself for the first time as I gaze at her brunette braid, that I don’t want to leave them. But it’d be better for all of them if you did.

Katniss climbs down first, I wait till she’s a fair bit down before I go after her, except I feel slightly betrayed when a smell hits my nose. It’s everything that could possibly have smelt bad smooshed into one place, I wanted to gag or climb back up the ladder but that definitely wasn’t an option so I gagged instead “How’re you not throwing up right now?” I manage to say between holding my breath and own fluids from appearing on the floor.

She shakes her head, “I’ve smelt worse” She doesn’t say it in a rude way, no, it’s more haunted and I want to hold her again but my hands are securely holding on to the ladder as I slowly make my way down. I hear the team as we finally reach the ground and the smell has only intensified, I can’t hope to grow use to the smell but I knew we’d be down here so I don’t have to just try to ignore it. Maybe breath through my mouth, I grimace.

“How’s it look?” Jackson asks, making Katniss pull the holo from her pack. I join Finnick’s side as Katniss heads to the front of the group. I smile to her as she looks over her shoulder and sends one back, warmth flares me. My best friend.

Finnick raised the restricts at me “We won’t-“

“Put them on me, Finn” I smile sadly, “Precaution” He sighed, nodding sadly before restraining my hands together, not as tight as before but enough to restrain me.

He smiles softly at me as I looked back up at the rest of the group, my eyes always automatically falling into Peeta. He doesn’t notice, engrossed in whatever Katniss is showing him on the holo.

Finnick nudges me “After.”

I smile at the blonde boy, who had his back to me before looking up at Finnick to my left “After”

— —

We’re slowly making our way through the tunnels, the open space now shifted into a tighter tunnel, causing us to form a single file line. I stood behind Cressida and in front of Finnick.

The only light is from Katniss’s holo but that does little when I’m four people behind her, I squint trying to adjust to the brightness.

A few of us had flashlights but the beam was so small it barely helped.

“Can you see any-“ A pipe bursts suddenly beside me, pressurised air broke from the pipe right into my path causing me to let out a scream.

Instantly I crouched, luckily it wasn’t scorching but it left a bad taste in my mouth, my ear on my left was ringing.

What if there was worse than faulty pipes? Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, maybe they’ll get lucky and you’ll die down here.

Finnicks hand caught my shoulder before I could growl at the voice in my head… my own damn voice i have to keep reminding myself.

“Are you-“ He didn’t get to finish before I’m lifted by my arms to my feet suddenly and i’m staring into panicked blue eyes.

“Are you hurt?!” Peetas eyes search me head to toe, his hand trailing over my arms, scowling at the restraint for a moment, and stomach not even noticing the way I tremble under his touch. And I almost freeze when his skin touches mine.

It’d been so long so i’d felt him… And my head finally clicks the relief I feel, the itch is gone

“Yeah…” I respond breathily, heat coming to my cheeks “Yeah” I can’t form another word, he seems to catch on freezing and taking a step back, his pink cheeks no doubt matching mine. I have to hold my temple for a moment as the itch slowly returns, had it faded because of Peeta. My heart swelled with hope but I didn’t let it show.

He clears his throat, “Right, best keep going then.” He looked over my shoulder, nodding his head before trailing back and I want to follow him, stay by his side but I don’t move and soon the group is moving again.

We keep the single file line since the tunnels never seem to widen, no, instead it seems to throw obstacle after obstacle at us, I grimace as I watch Cressida drop into the shoulder deep water.

“Afraid of water, Jude?” She jokes as I don’t move from the ledge, “Can’t hurt ya” No more than you’ve hurt others- Or how others have hurt me, I scream back in my head.

“Jude?” She mutters again and I nod my head, smirking at the relief in my head for the moment.

“You’re right,” I take a breath and drop into the water, trying to hold in a gag when it splashed into my face, I raise my hands keeping my restraint from getting soaked“Totally not piss and shit”

Finnick drops behind and laughs “Keep saying it and it might come true” I shoot him a look as we begin to shuffle in the water, I thank whoever designed the suits because if I had a inkling of skin outside below the neck I’d probably die from the feel of whatever this was.

“We going to pretend you didn’t blush like a schoolgirl when Peeta grabbed you before?” Finnick whispered in my ear suddenly, making me jump and heat sprouted through me at the memory from moments ago.

“Shut up, before I drown you in piss and shit” He laughs and lucky for him doesn’t try to continue the conversation.

— —

Once we were walking for about thirty minutes and finding nothing but endless tunnels, Jackson spoke up to break the silence “All right, everybody, we’re gonna stop here for a bit and get some rest, yeah?”

Slowly the group walked up a staircase and into a grate pathway. I glanced around, watching everyone get comfortable as Finnick nudged me “Sit there, I’ll take first watch”

I nod, biting my lip as I took a seat with my back against the railing closest to the staircase, I heard some laughter and talking as I crossed my arms and gazed at the doorway we came through, running through everything that could happen in the next couple of days.

We could all die or Snow could… The world could change or we’d become forgotten. It wasn’t good to think like that, no, Snow would pay.

I glanced around at everyone now, slowly settling in for the night. And though Finnick said he’d watch me, his gaze is wondering. We all wanted Snow to pay, and he would.

Finnick didn’t say much to me, probably hoping i’d fall asleep but I couldn’t every creak had me jumping and cracking an eye open, I’d seen three changes of watch before finally when I peeked, blonde came into my vision.

I stiffened, I didn’t know what to do, I cracked an eye open a little wider and unlike Finnick, Peeta’s whole attention is on me and no mercy to my heart, he’s smiling at me. Itch, itch ,itch. I bring my hand to my temple again, just as Peetas boot pushes against mine and it’s gone, my head snaps up to him. He’s looking at me with a calculating look, working out easily what was going through my head. But at this moment, I wouldn’t even notice the itch my chest felt like it was going to burst.

Does he care that he makes my heart beat out of my chest? This feeling feels like it could physically kill me. “Cant sleep?” His voice is quiet but carried across the quiet walkway. No mention of our boots touching.

“Yeah, not the best place i’ve ever slept” I respond, I don’t want to shut him out. But I don’t know what to say, what did we use to talk about? Was that appropriate now?

He doesn’t say anything for a moment and just stares at me, did I mess up? God, so many questions when it came to him. Yet I knew one thing was certain, my heart adored him.

“Ask me a question” This time his voice isn’t quiet due to his whisper, his words are a breath and have goosebumps rising all over. You don’t deserve him. Its voice is so distant I almost don’t make it out.

Ask me a question. His voice rings louder in my head, suppressing the voice as I let my eyes meet his as I think, what? What could I possibly-

“Right, because we’re going to pull off what we did last year. Please tell me you didn’t come all this way to tell me fantasies” My voice slams into me, but not like normal, no, I remember this.

The night we learnt we were going back in, I’d run from the tv and fallen on my knees in the backyard of my victors home and wept for hours. Even after there was nothing left to cry I sat there.

And of course, when he could have been down the street at his own house, worrying instead he had found himself here.

“They’re not fantasies, we don’t have to let them win” He whispered, probably not wanting to scare me but I was terrified, absolutely terrified that he might die.

“Stop being stupid, okay. Just stop.” I look at him over my shoulder, “Just go back to your house and forget about me so it’s easier in a couple months ” I spit the words, hateful hateful words but I won’t have him feeling a connection to me, not if it costs him his life.

“For me? Or for you?” I shoot a harsher glare at him now, but my thoughts ring sadder thoughts, both of us.

“For you!” He chuckles, he actually freaking chuckles. That makes me shoot to my feet as I skin on my heels. And there he is, Peeta Mellark is laughing! “Are you seriously laughing?!”

He shakes his head, the laughter dying but the smile remains “You seriously don’t know do you?”

I cross my arms over my chest as I glare at him, “If you’re trying to be funny right now, it’s not working.” He sighs, taking a step forwards me, I take a step back “I told you to go”

“And why was that again?” He asked, tapping his chin. God, I hated him when he knew more than me in a situation like this, he became so confident, so hard to resist.

My neck flushed and slowly creeped to my cheeks as I clenched my fists at my side “You need to leave so you can kill me when the time comes” I say the words plain and simple, his smile final drops.

And suddenly I’m more frustrated because he’s right in front of me, for once he’s feet seemed to have made a silent approach and I can no longer find my breath as his hand slowly comes to my cheek as his thumb brushes the skin under my eye.

His blue eyes are all I see and want to see forever, and then he’s speaking “It’s too late for that, sweetheart” My heart explodes.

And somehow I choke out “Explain” He laughs, it’s deeper this time and heat explodes, all I want is him.

“I love you, Jude. More than I ever thought possible” My mouth hangs open and he smiles wider, pressing his hand under my chin to shout my mouth before leaning forward and kissing me softly.

His soft lips moving against mine, I never wanted to move away from the heat and softness he pressed upon me. I let my hands raise up his chest and catch in his curls at the nape of his neck before we finally pull away, and all I see is blue again.

Then I’m back, staring at those same blue eyes and I’ve realised how stupid i’ve been. Because he’s looking at me the exact same way he looked at me back in my backyard.

“After the 75th Hunger Ganes was announced… You came to me and you-“

“Real. I told you that I love you more than I ever thought possible” I can’t breathe “And everyday you prove it to me more and more, Jude. I love you”

And I knew it deep down, that he wasn’t lying that he never was lying. And I also already know my response, the warmth rushes in blaring out the itch in my skull for what feels like maybe forever but before I can speak there’s a whisper that makes me freeze.

Katniss. Peeta. No! No, they couldn’t be back. Katniss. Peeta. Katniss- It repeats over and over again, I slam my hands over my ears knowing it won’t-

It worked. There’s silence, I look up at Peeta and he looking at me, not in fear but concern. I remoce my hands and get to my feet “Peeta.” I whisper, staring down the staircase. I feel though, that feeling of pure and unadultured rage.

It’s not coming from me though, I throw my head over my shoulder at Katniss “Both of you, go now! The rest of us will be behind you!” I demand, tightening my hands on the chain from the restrain, needing somehting solid for whatever the hell was about to go down.

“Keep your voice down!” Gale whispers harshly as I glare at him.

“They’ve released mutts! These things were made to kill them, I don’t think our voices matter, what does matter is moving.” I bring my eyes back to Katniss and Peeta, they both look too worried about everyone else and not about themselves “Pollux you know a way out?” He nods, “Follow him and get out! Go!”

Quickly Pollux ran out, Katniss and Peeta right behind him while the rest of quickly followed, I didn’t know where everyone was but I knew Pollux and Gale had the front while Jackson watched our backs.

Gale shot a fire arrow further into the tunnel, helping us see ahead, luckily nothing was there but I could feel them still, I couldn’t hear the voices rather feel them bouncing off the walls, it left me cold and terrified.

In a matter of seconds his arrow went out and we were plunged into darkness, once again the tiny flashlights being our only light. We continued cautiously, Gale shooting whenever we came to a cross roads to make sure nothing jumped out at us.

I almost internally screamed when we had to watch Pollux climb through an opening and wait for him to give the all clear, I’d just gotten to know Pollux and from his history.

I didn’t want to know what person i’d become if he died like this, my breath released when he came back and gave us a thumbs up, and slowly we all climbed through, the restraint on my wrist didn’t make things easy as I misjudged the stretch of it as I went tumbling towards the ground but hands caught me and brought me back to my feet.

“At least your clumsiness hasn’t changed” Peeta jokes, dusting me off and returning to the group. I love you, Jude. I clenched my fists, After after after.

Katniss came through after me, the three of us coming together. A small smile coming to my face, this could be the future, the three of us together again. Including Finnick since there was no way he was getting rid of me now.

I glance over Katniss’s shoulder to make sure Jackson got through okay, just in time to watch four mutts jump from the darkness and tear her to shreds “Holy-“ I don’t get time to finish before Katniss his pulling back and arrow and launching it.

An explosive arrow.

She flies back from the blow, slamming into me and then Oeeta but somehow he manages to keep us all up right and yells “Go! Run!” And we don’t think twice, I pay respects to Jackson in my mind.

Another person dead who saved my life, when would it be my turn?

The sounds of rushed footsteps in the water and yelling was all that occurred within the next few minutes, I couldn’t tell if we were even following the right path at this point or just running for survival.

Screeches sounded from all over and I couldn’t tell what tunnel the mutts would shoot out from, then a scream sounded behind me “Castor!”

The words left an ice over my skin, as I spun to see mutts crawling over each other to get to Castor, who in no way could be alice anymore. Finnick ran into me and didn’t waste a second to drag me along with him.

So many dead, dead, dead. I shook my head, finally picking up my feet and racing alongside Finnick and Gale.

Being restraint was definitely the stupidest decision I had made, all I could do was run as the others fought off the mutts. Though losing Castor somehow Pollux still managed to lead the charge, finally pointing to a ladder in the middle of a room… that had four entrances.

Instantly the mutts rushed in, Katniss and Pollux went to firing arrows and bullets at them, keeping most of them at bay, Peeta spraying his automatic, taking out a fair amount until it clicked and it began to ram it into any white heads he saw. Finnick doing the same with his golden spinning trident, he was a dancer with that thing.

I kept my eyes alert, ready for anything to come for me as I glanced at the entrances, hoping more of our group turned up… Cressida still wasn’t here.

But my mind went blank from eveyrthing as I heard a yell, a mutt had Peeta pressed to the wall. His arm the only thing keeping it away, I froze. I had nothing to help him with, nothing, nothing- My gaze meets my restraint.

And in that moment of thought, I’m running and jumping onto to the mutts back, wrapping my restraint around its neck and pulling, not expecting the attack it easily falls backwards, causing its weight to fall onto me.

Ouch, is all I can think as the wind is knock out of me and it spins in my grasp and suddenly my hands are the only things keeping it away l “Holy shit! Holy shit” I scream as it snaps his jaws at me, pure and unadulterated terror causes through me.

Katniss jumps into the brawl to my thanks and sends her foot into his face, sending it sprawling as I scrambled away, only for another to leap from the water. I didn’t even realise the water was deep enough for that!

It’s long fingers latch onto my ankle and drag me, without thinking I spin and scratch at the floor for any surface to grab but there’s nothing, I look up, blue. “Peeta!”

“Jude!” And then i’m underwater.

— —

I yanked upward, gasping for air as my eyes adjusted to the pure chaos still ensuing taking in whose in front of me, somehow I find it in me to smile “Cressida”

She smiles back, quickly shooting something behind me “Reunion later, duck!” I do as told as she shoots again but my luck has run out, while she’s not looking one leaps at me, sending me onto to my side as I reached up with both hands, sending the restraint strap into its razor sharp mouth.

Within a second it’s teeth have torn it to nothing and now there’s nothing blocking it from- Peetas gun comes down and smacks it off me as he drags me to my feet “You okay?!”

“Let’s get the hell out of here now!” He nodded, no doubt agreeing before latching my now free hand with his before he began to swing his weapon at anything that was in our way, Cressida was helping others up the ladder as we made our way.

I looked over my shoulder wuickly to see Finnick wielding his spinning trident, he was incredible to watch as he tore down mutt after mutt, he yelled somehting at Katniss causing her to run towards the ladder… Without him.

“We can’t leave Finnick!” I yelled over the screeching to Peeta, he glanced over his shoulder before killing another two mutts.

“We don’t have time! Finnick can protect himself” But that wasn’t good enough, I raced in front of Peeta running to the bottom of the ladder, praying Peeta kept any mutts from getting to me for the moment.

“Cressida, your gun!” The moment the words left my mouth I knew the request wouldn’t be accepted, I’d be a psychotic case days ago there’s no way, suddenly a gun dropped into my hands. “Thank you!”

I turn around to face Peeta, knowing for the moment that he was right. Finnick could protect himself, I shot at any mutts that were close to Peeta before ushering him over, planning on sending him up and staying to help Finnick get up.

“I can get him and I both up, you go” Peeta says quickly taking the gun from me without fight since I wasn’t expecting it, I almost want to fight for it back but a mutt comes for me and he quickly pushes me behind him to shoot it before turning back to me “You won’t sacrifice yourself for this, I won’t let you”

I stiffen at that, glancing over at Finnick whose slowly started to make his way over to us, and then I look back at Peeta “Don’t you dare die, Peeta” And then I climbed up the ladder, quickly being pulled up by Katniss and Cressida.

My heart hurt at the lack in number that now looked back at me as I finally let out a breath and feeling a chill wash over me from my wet clothes and hair but my heart stilled, Pollux was sat crying… Castor.

I would be the same if those two boys don’t climb up that ladder, I spun on my butt to watch the hatch Id crawled from, they had to make it. They both had to make it…

The moments ticked by and the screeching only got worse as the bullets flew until they stopped and I finally gave up- Finnick sprung from the hatch, quickly pulled himself up and rolling, my heart leapt as I kept watch not letting myself hope and then the blonde comes and I want to cry tears of joy.

“Nightlock, Nightlock, Nightlock” Katniss quickly says, dropping the holo into the hatch and killing the rest of the mutts that deigned to follow us.

Finnick smiles at me, opens his mouth to no doubt play off the whole situation but my arms are around him and i’m crying, I can’t stop. Everything over the past few days has built and built and built til this moment and I nearly lost them… Finnick and Peeta. My head shot up, locking eyes with him. I raised my right arm and quickly tossed it around Peeta, though there wasn’t much room we made it work. They were alive.

“I knew you loved me” Finnick sighs out as I let myself chuckle and pull away, letting myself hit him “Ow! I could be a hit from death y’know!”

I let out a breath “I wanna punch you but I am so glad you’re still here to annoy me”

“Are you guys always-“ Peeta begins with a smile but he’s cut off.

“Guys! We gotta go, they’re here.” Gales alarmed voice breaks the few moments of content, but we’re straifht to our feet and following the rest of the group “Keep Moving!”

I lose Finnick and Peeta as Gale is rushing us into a hall full of hundreds of orange pillars, and when things couldn’t get worse Peacekeepers began to rain down bullets.

“Don’t let them escape!” I hear a muffled voice as another volley of bullets fly but i’m frozen at the doorway, everything in my body is telling me to move but I can feel the itch grab its hold.

Let them get you, you deserve everything that is coming to you.

Suddenly a hand latches on to me, my eyes dart up and see brown, It’s Messalla, we hadn’t spoken but he’d come back for me “Come on, kid!”

He doesn’t waste a moment, dragging my dead feet behind him, somehow dodging the bullets, he picked up his paste now and once my legs got moving he finally let me go.

“Alright, almost there we just got to-“ Suddenly some of the numerous lights I hadn’t noticed turn on, including the one right on top of Messalla.

The beam sucks up his entire form, evaporating him in seconds. Just like that, another one of us is dead. I want to freeze and scream at the peacemakers thinking that any of this was okay, but i’ve got too much momentum, I would meet the same end. Yes… The pressure in my head isn’t an itch, it’s almost stroking, pleased to finally get what it wants.

I try to plant my feet into the ground but it’s too close and i’m going too fast. I slam my eyes shut at the smallest hint of heat before i’m grabbed by my elbow and pulled to my right.

I hear a few of my hairs singe in the light before my body is getting pulled again. NO. I wince, letting my free hand dart to my temple as my feet matched the ones beside me, but my foot catches but the arm that saved me once, pull me up and balance me.

“I got you!” Finnick yells over the chaos, weaving through the flickering lights as i try to grasp the last two minutes. He’d saved my life, it wouldn’t be the first time, I shake my head knowing the more I let my own voice torment me its wish will come true. Knowing if the others were okay would help but I can’t see anyone else, the lights so bright I had to look away whenever they turned on.

It was better i focused on Finnick and I and hope the others make it until I see Cressida umoving, looking passed me with a horrified look. Messalla… I feel guilt rise in me but I still grab her as we pass, I couldn’t lose her too. Not Cressida. “Come on! I’m sorry but come on!” I yell to her and we’re finally making progress through the hall when a crack sounds behind us.

Though I know whatever I find behind me won’t be good I look anyways, in sections the floor cracks and shatters, slowly and slowly makes it way too us. All of this to kill you, stop fighting.

I grit my teeth, turning my head forward and pushing my body as fast as it could go, I wouldn’t die here. But it’d be better for all of them if you did… It grows louder each time, flashes of me kicking Mitch into the oil comes back to me and my hand reaching for Peetas throat. No, no, no, no.

Peeta, Katniss and Gale stand waving their hands at us but I can’t hear them, Give up, give up, give up. It screams now. The shattering behind us gets worse as I dodge left to miss a light, a bullet skims past my ear, I keep running. Give up, Give up ,GIVEUPGIVEUPGIVEUP.

I crumble to the floor, pressing my forehead to the ground, begging begging begging, it to stop. I slam my eyes shut, covering my ears praying they would just stop. YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED, DIE, DIE. Snows voice is harsh and shatters my skull as I cry out, no no no no, it was meant to be gone. It couldn’t be back, I couldn’t take it if it was back.

I reach for my heart-

Hands quickly lifted me up my arms, and then suddenly their hands meet my cheeks and everything is silent, my eyes snap open as whimpers leave my lips uncontrollably, blue is everywhere and I want to crawl into a ball again, he should never have to see me like this, not after I gave him so much hope…

“We’re nearly out of here okay?” I don’t respond, my eyes darting all over his face but my hand lays forgotten at my side. “I can’t lose you, Jude. Not again, alright, I-“ He looked utterly terrified, but continued anyway “I love you” And then, his lips were on mine and my mind clicked, warmth spread from my head to my toes. I love you, it repeated over and over in my head like a symphony. And I love him.

Peeta’s never lied to me, and I know in this moment, if I took my Nightlock pill I’d be killing him all the same. He was my life just as much as I was his, every breath I took was for him and I’d keep fighting. For him.

I smiled lightly when he pulled away before whispering “I love you too”

He squeezed my cheek a little tighter, whether he knew the way his touch effected me I didn’t know but I was grateful all the same when he let go and intertwined our hands within the second.

“I’m definitely not losing you now” And my heart exploded in joy.

———

part (1, 2, 3, 4)

I CAN NOT APOLOGISE ENOUGH AND MORE BECAUSE PART 4 ISNT DONE IK IM SORRY, ITS ALREADY HALFWAY DONE BUT IM SO SORRY GUYS

IDK WHAT HAPPENED TIME IS MOVING WAYYYY TO QUICKLY😭

taglist baddies: @yazminetrahan @solarbxby @abbersreads @antonietta18 @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @imobssesedwithtoomanysheet @sipsthecoffee @life-ugh @sunnydays-funnydays @bilesxbilinskixlahey @sadierosec @molyyyt @goosy-goose @beaniebeensbaby201

(i promise i tried to add everyone that commented to be added but some of you i couldn’t find xx)

#hunger games #peeta mellark #peeta supremacy #the hunger games #katniss everdeen #books and reading #fanfic #imagine #romance #coriolanus snow #peeta mellark imagine #books

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

28 - The Clash of Three Kings

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

Length: 16.9k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, mentions of past character death, descriptions of gore and violence, smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, slight exhibitionism kink

Notes: No crazy revelations occured right at the end of the last chapter right? Nah, I'm sure everything is fine and dandy as always. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

The sun was shining so abnormally bright it verged on painful to look at, but through the harsh squinting you persisted through the brush. A strange overcoming of determination within your veins the closer you got washed over you, the memory of what came before having you go faster as you traversed the terrain towards the mouth of the mine. 

Hardly what would normally be called a mine, it was more a series of tunnels which as soon as were accessed deep enough, housed a shining variety of a kind of rock little spoken of by any except for you on this very island. Surrounded by life of the once Targaryean dynasty it was impossible to avoid their impacts left on Dragonstone. Their mark left on the castles with fire, dragons, and three hundred years of using this place as a second spot to rule over away from the capitol. 

You scarcely ever had a reason to use such aspects of that childhood home. To you, it was not a terrifying island that one homed the infamous dragon riders and conquerors. But an isolating home that left you with no real friends to speak of, a big and vast castle home that made hiding away too easy. The terrain of jagged cliffs and curtain hangs that lead from impenetrable shore rocks as a shield from the outside world leading deep into the woods that homed the volcano of Dragonmont. Yet to you, it wasn’t that which you spent time in. 

It was the curiosity of tunnels underground and in caves and mines which sparked your attention. You had no friends nor siblings, and little lived near the castle that were not other adults or children just too old to want to play with a five year old. So you explored, and that was how you found the tunnels, and in those tunnels, you learned the trickier the climb down, the more you found. One day, you had tossed a torch far down the middle of a shaft to see how far it went, and as it thudded against the bottom you saw shining rocks that looked like crystals that had you learn to climb all alone to find out what they were. 

You liked exploring the mines as a girl with no friends and nothing to do, but now as you approached one of those very tunnels, it was not the adventure you sought.

It was the very shining crystal like rocks that were spoken to be an answer to a freezing horror far beyond the North. 

The four of you were deep into the woods surrounding the outer borders of Dragonmont, coming close enough that looking high in the sky your neck would crane up with a squint to see the increasingly warm air was also thick and heavy in your lungs due to the smoke smoothly simmering from the very top. It had done so since you were born, you hardly noticed it despite Theon, Ryk and Tormund glancing at the other with questioning gazes at how little it winded you. 

Many of the entrances were not easily accessible. Dragonglass had never once been mentioned in the books of Westerosi history to be of any importance, so it all sat underground as a natural deposit the realm cared not to trade. The only times it was whispered such tunnels were used was in the very beginning of it’s existence which mattered. The Doom of Valyria had survived none but the family named Targaryean, and with them as they fled brought with them both dragons and dragon eggs. 

Deep underground found by none were rumoured to be hatcheries that sat so hot under the volcano that it was the only place they could be born, their dragons. The volcano ran deep under the depths of the water and so it couldn’t be as simply as that, but also no such thing had been found. Once they took over the lands by force and death, their dragons were instead bred from which they could use them the most, and the Dragonpit of King’s Landing was created. The space of the island and how little could be grown or harvested there, it made no sense to you to think raising such terrors of the sky could be sustainable. 

Most of Dragonstone’s biggest import were harvested crops, grain, vegetables and freshly kept livestock to feed with. It was a place built to terrify, but it seemed the Targaryeans had begun their dynasty of unsustainabiity so early that a lifeless rock of heat and brimstone was seen as a place to raise such creatures. If their eggs hatched under the grounds of Dragonmont, you could only think how foolish it was to do so. Whatever tunnels which existed once, were no more then crawling spaces that would terrify the untrained, and certainly not to drag eggs in to hatch and hope they survive. 

Coming up to a jagged formation of stones sat against a rolling cliff side, you had been the first to get off your horse. Tying it to a tree without a word to your three companions as you begun to walk around the area with narrowed, squinting eyes to seek out signs that this was one of the spots you left behind. 

“What are we looking for exactly?” 

Tormund had called out to you, but you scarcely heard. It had to be here somewhere, you thought. A set of feet all walked over to where you looked at the stones, as they looked with a raised eyebrow and confused expressions. Only it took not much longer for it to come to your vision, a small carving at the very edge of a stone had you crouch down by it, and without a second word begun to pull the heavy rock out. Tossing it with heave down to the side, and there one sat. 

All three men came to your side glancing into the darkness as you somewhat tried to see in, only to lean back out, gesturing to Theon to grab you the bag by your horse. Tossing some of it to he and Tormund from what was inside, “Should be something in there to make a torch of.” 

As you somewhat climbed partially into the smaller entrance, body half inside with one gloved hand braced at the top as you looked around the sight. It was too dark for any to see properly once deep enough, but you knew these tunnels so much it was like it had been lit up already. 

Turning back, you reached out as Theon handed you the lit torch and finally all watched you lean back under and half inside to see, and then the faintest of a grin fell over your lips. Moving the rest of the way in, you had not waited for the three to follow as you walked along the top surface, torch high as you continued along, lighting up small loose torches that had sat untouched the years between this visit and the last in here, having left them yourself when still exploring. 

“Not exactly what I imagined when you said there was a shit ton of it.” 

Looking back partially towards Theon with a raised eyebrow before your face fell flat. Picking up one of the torches you handed it to him while adding to its fire, as Tormund kept the area lit with another.

Walking up to the edge you leaned close and tossed the lit flame down, gesturing for them with a nod to peak themselves. As the flames landed down far at the bottom of the cavern, there was a twinkling glow around it that flashed up to your eyes in some spots. Tormund’s eyes were wide and a tinge of impressed as his voice muttered out, “Better start climbing then.” 

There were rings dug deep into the stone along the drop down, places as it to slide a torch within to see as multiple climbing digs were embedded along as well. “Some of these I put in when I was still a girl, be sure to check they are stable before stepping down onto any.” 

Tormund himself eyed Ryk climbing next to him with a condescending grin plastered, “Hear that, Longspear? We got no way of carrying you back up, means if you fall, best try and die when you do it.” 

Rolling your eyes with a tinge of playful, you and Theon flickered your glances with amusement as you all made your way down. This one, was far easier. The rocks more forgiving of any tools, there was light and no need to keep so quiet as your time could be taken all of your own choosing. Each descend far enough, you and Ryk at each end would stay back to move your only two sources of fire down to each new metal hold you both would stake into the cave wall, intending later that very day to fill them all with proper lighting along with the rest of your work.

You had intended to do this first part alone, simply getting here and making any sources of light to see a path but you had been seen awake far too early for any soul by Tormund. He had noticed the distance in your eyes that spoke of something he realized had no clues given to him over it, and your only admission that there was just much to think about that made you struggle to sleep was begged to be dropped. 

So he woke Ryk, or moreso, dragged him out of sleep with force and rumbled to him about not sitting around on his ass. Theon didn’t sleep well either, but he never did anymore. So when he had found you by where one of the guards guided him to the kitchens in the confusing halls, he had come across you gathering water. “You’re up way too early.” He had jested.

You rose an eyebrow at him, before nodding at his own person with a flat, “So what are you doing here then?” Unlike Tormund, you knew Theon could see something had not just woken you up, but something had kept you up and for how alert your eyes were, you were awake since before the sun dawned over the sea. You had mentioned getting an early start on the tunnels, and that sorted that out. 

Telling you to not leave before he could grab what he, himself needed. Not asking if he could help or join and you didn’t even think about it. A strange little trio of climbers was this group turning out to become. And luckily for you, two of them were dynamic enough to speak most of the silence, and Theon had found it easier over time to converse more like a normal person and spoke for you on the climb down the cave wall. 

But there was something in your eyes that Theon didn’t know, and it was odd to him at this point between the pair of you that he found something he had no clue how to read between your stoic expressions. 

He also, were he to be honest much later on, wished he knew before hand that when he would wake up some hours after you all took off, Jon would have not a single clue where you had gone all day. He would’ve at least requested a guard inform him rather then let the King in the North be blindsided by it, but once you were focused heavily on something, you tended to forget many details of the world around you. 

But as all four reached the bottom of the cavern, Theon and Tormund stood by the other and only when the torch light beside both of them from Ryk and yourself came to light up more of the sight, did the visions around come into view of the reality. The walls grew darker as the lower it had become and around the four of you was a shine. 

The walls were high and paths off shooting from high up and low down, but everywhere were darker spots of stone that weren’t quite fitting with the rest. In large chunks deeply framing the cave walls with twists and turns and edges that spiked out with jagged amounts it all sat around looking far more dark and otherworldly then even the black stone made of the castle above. Looking all around each of you walked the bottom, you handing up the torch in your hand and snatching up the one laying at the bottom still flaming away. Stabbing another metal loop into a chunk of normal rock you hung it up on another wall, each man around you with a quiet in their eyes.

Your head turned high, and the reflective glass like rock stared back as if hiding another world in it’s depths below the dark and heavy air of the lands. None heard your breathless whisper and none needed to, you could feel the necklace sitting against your chest and that was all you needed. “I told you I’d take you down here one day.” Her bright eyes were clear as day as you could almost smile imagining Shireen by your side with wonder as she looked around the ethereal cavern. 

“So, what now?” 

Your body turning back to the three men as Tormund glanced to you. Chest rising and falling heavy with a deep inhale and subsequent exhale, you pulled out a bag attached close to your side and tossed it to him while your other hand pulled out rope hiding along under the back of your cloak. “We start digging paths around the tunnels.” 

Ryk glanced up curiously, “How many tunnels lead into here?” 

Shrugging you knew of many but lost count of many others. “More then I’ve ever explored. This isn’t the only one either, there are caches all around the island that don’t even lead into the other. But this was the biggest one to start with that I know my way around well enough.” 

There was no more reason to stand around in awe, you all had a long day ahead of you. 

The fact that few seemed to even question where you were didn’t sit well with him. Those all working in the castle of Dragonstone seemed to find nothing out of the ordinary that you had not appeared anywhere within the walls or the grounds. 

It didn’t quite feel good, waking up that morning to find not only were you not still laying in bed with him, but then Jon couldn’t seem to find you anywhere and once more he was keeping down a panic of something he was trying very hard to keep to himself. It was in his eyes though, and as he finally came across Stannis he was fairly certain he did a poor job of hiding it. His rough, low tones did not make the matter any less subtle to the keen eyed Baratheon. 

Both stood near the other by the giant table, what seemed to be the room used most from the Baratheons as the meeting hall, the very top room of the main Stone Drum tower. Carved and painted to look just like Westeros from Dorne to the Wall, Jon had been there first. A guard escorting him to where he was told Stannis would like to meet with him having not a clue yet where things in this confusing mess of a castle were. Running his hand along the surface with narrowed eyes before coming to the end of the table. 

Some feet behind him was the splashes of the sea and morning sun shining onto the surface, lighting up where Dorne had been placed by the edge. Only moments before, his curiosity had him picking up a wooden figurine that had been dropped close to the Prince’s Pass. A wooden dragon figure had been cracked and split down the middle as the other lay alone whereas everything else on the board was placed with careful precision.

“I don’t need them to believe me, but as long as we’re here I’d rather give them the chance to help instead of sitting in the dungeons as prisoners.” 

He and Stannis disagreed on bringing Aegon and Jon Connington up from their cells to discuss any terms of peace. “You are optimistic, too much so. You asked of them for cooperation and they forced your men to the shores to fight, why would they change their attitudes now?” 

Jon however, felt not the grudge or anger many expected of his enemies but instead an understanding in his eyes were bright as he willed the man across from him to listen. “If Aegon wants to leave, fight other battles for the Iron Throne then he can leave. But they won’t stop at coming for us, they’ll come for them as well too. At least give me the chance to explain that.” Stannis looked doubtful, and Jon’s tone was a bit lighter if quieter as he leaned forward. “He could be a useful ally.” 

The rigidness that responded however was unconvinced. “If he’s his father’s son the only use he would be is rotting in a dungeon as far from any crown as possible.” Jon only challenging him on if he wasn’t, and Stannis looked almost through him for a moment to think. “I would very much doubt he is any different, but you are right. We can give he and Lord Connington that chance.” 

Nodding, in agreement, Stannis gestured to his own men to bring Lord Connington up. Seeing Jon’s questioning gaze he simply explained, “He will be the easier starting point. There is something of bad blood between Baratheons and Targaryeans, after all.” 

He hadn’t had as much of a look at Aegon as he had Connington, but Jon still couldn’t help but try and envision the man he came here in claimant of. How similar were father and son, and how much of those similarities would prove to be foreboding once more? His voice barley above a whisper as his fingers dug into the table where he kept himself braced against. “What was he like?” Stannis looked to him with a flat expression save for a raised eyebrow, “Rhaegar Targaryean? Everyone talks about what the Mad King was like, but..” 

He was once more envious of your families ability to remain so steady and unaffected by anything, when Jon could hear his fathers voice telling stories of his Uncle, his Grandfather. The ones he would never meet and how it was their deaths that started the war. Or how he struggled to ever bring up his sister, Jon’s Aunt, the one whose kidnapping was the catalyst for the war to have come. Those pains never really went away for his father, and truthfully, the entire family as well. 

Now the only remaining child of Eddard Stark and not even the one called Stark in name, and yet all that pain fell onto Jon’s shoulders. It felt odd to think. 

“It differs depending on who you ask. Most who served under him would think of him as charming and brave.” Somehow Jon thought to himself, he doubted that. “If you asked my brother Robert, he would have told you he was a monster. An abomination that some twenty four years later still made him just as angry as he did when he was alive.” 

Jon’s eyes were far away, a glazed over distance trying to reconcile such drastic ends. “And you?” A hum of question leaving Stannis’s throat. “What would you say about him?” 

It wasn’t however a casual feeling which sat in Stannis’s eyes even though he tried to portray it in his even tone. “It is as I said. There is bad blood between House Targaryean and Baratheon, and that bad blood did not end with Robert. You seem very willing to cooperate with the boy, and his father has wronged your family more then my own.” 

He could be angry, but he also knew that wasn’t where his anger lay. It wasn’t trapped within vessels of a past he would never know, it was in the present he needed to protect. “If he isn’t anything like Rhaegar, I want to give him a chance to prove it.” 

It was difficult to read, but it seemed as if a bit of pride sat behind Stannis’s eyes. “You are a more forgiving man then most.” 

Jon only felt his knuckles strain against the flexing pressure he leaned against them with. “No, I’m not. But I am patient enough to give him the benefit of the doubt first.” Not to which he would say it out loud, but he was glad he never saw the fight between Aegon and you. He wasn’t so sure he would have that same patience had he seen the dragon against you as such.

He had asked enough people in the castle, he didn’t need to come off as over protective in front of your own father by asking where you were, but it itched inside Jon’s chest not to do so anyways. He couldn’t let himself spiral, not to obsess over the fear that every single dark, and perverse thought which came pouring out of his mouth the night before had chased you away. You had responded more eager then what his heart could handle. He couldn’t stand there and let himself lose control over it, not now. 

Not in front of what was about to be a meeting full of no doubt awkward discussions of the North, as he knew he was the only firm source between he and Stannis to portray the extend to which this issue was not the North’s alone. 

But it still lingered in fear as the two of them waited. Had he said something in such raw honesty that in some way over stepped your marriage to Robb? Had he simply been too vulgar with you? Or worse, too rough? Not a single spec of the world existed that night other then the two of you entangled together in front of the fire, but perhaps in the light of morning it was too much for you to look back on.

Maybe Jon thought, he needed to ease up with you. That perhaps it was his intensity which scares you. 

It was a blessing which none here cared about keeping up proper appearances. Deep underground was boiling enough without the amount of movement you all were doing, coating you in sweat, grime, and occasionally blood if you weren’t careful enough. Most of the day was spent either climbing along the walls, or on your stomach or back pulling through tight tunnels to map out in detail. 

The open spaces only grew to be more vast. A dark glass like stone that shined black as if it were reflecting right off of the night sky, and sat all around in crystal like formations along the walls as if growing on there. You wondered how much it would shine and glow were the sun to open up inside of these walls. 

Not every rock was made of Dragonglass, but it was painted so heavily along the walls you felt utterly surrounded by it, despite the heat however every touch to your skin was cool. 

Currently, you were perched on a small tunnel space, trying to carve out the simple rock against the walls so it was easier for one to crawl though, knowing it opened up from what the flames hinted at was a vast cavern which you suspected led to much more. Not too far from you was Theon, digging supports into the walls making climbing much easier then the free kind you all had to do to get to this point. 

Somewhere off in nearby tunnels you could hear the muffled bickering of Tormund and Ryk as any chuckling or laughter boomed off the walls and echoed all up to the surface. 

“How do you know so much about all of this?” Turning your head down and to the side from where you had been reaching up, you almost coughed as you accidentally let some of the gravel fall too close to your face. Raising your eyebrow with a grimace, Theon gestured around him. “Dragonglass, how’d you know this was all here in the first place?” 

Hands dropping down to the stone below, you glanced up to where you could see the circling of torches finally having lit the cave up to see without issue, the licking flames all fading in brightness the closer to the surface and further the black dragonglass faded into merely dark stone. Dropping your gaze back to him only briefly as you returned to your task. Voice a bit far away even in there. “I used to explore these tunnels often as a girl. There wasn’t much else to do on Dragonstone and I didn’t have any friends, so I started working my way through these tunnels.” 

You had missed something a bit sad behind Theon’s eyes, but it was there in his softer tone. “So you spent your days crawling and climbing through mines hoping to what? Find something special?” 

Huffing a laugh, you winced trying to knock out a more difficult stone in the way which was attached to the edge of dragonglass, a very difficult kind of rock to cut through with the tools at hand. “Those in the villages say that the Targaryeans built rooms in here, places to hatch their dragon eggs near the heat of the volcano, lit by never ending fires and wooden pathways which long rotted to the ground. I only ever found more cave, no dragons, no magical rooms. Just rock and tight spaces.” 

“You believe that? That something special made their dragons hatch here?” 

You huffed another strained laugh, not even looking at him. “Not for a second. Most of them were born in Kings Landing during their dynasty. No great fire, no volcano, just a dragonpit to hatch their eggs in. If Dragonstone was so special, they would have been breeding them here far before Valyria fell.” 

You were beginning to regret keeping your skin of water so close to the ground, squinting down to decide if the path was worth it before ultimately deciding to just endure. Theon had begun working away at the stones and spikes once more, speaking through the hammering. “Would have loved to see one, though.” 

“No, you wouldn’t have.” His head whipped over to you, but you shrugged before turning away again as you elaborated. “Robert destroyed most of what the Targaryeans had left, but under the Red Keep in their own tunnels there is still a massive dragon skull. Must have thought it too big, or it was an artifact and so he hid it away. But it was huge, could stand up in it’s mouth and still not reach top to bottom.” Grimacing as you tore off finally a more difficult piece, you sighed out. Dropping your arms to look at Theon properly. “If you ask me, something that big flying around breathing fire? We’re better off them all being dead.” 

“You really think so?” 

Instead of the amusement he expected, there was nothing but a darker glint behind your eyes as you saw fire. Wildfire exploding before you in bright greens that had men screaming and clawing at their own burning skin, and that was nothing compared to what it was said dragonfire could do. “Dragons don’t plant trees. They don’t create, they don’t build. They destroy. Creatures like that, have no place in the kind of world people like us are trying to fight for.”

Your voice was rough, a gritting that grated against you throat like sand as you begged for water and a soothing honey to warm it down as you continued, finding Theon’s eyes properly. “Dragons only know death and destruction, and as soon as they were gone, Targaryeans had nothing left to trick us into thinking they were special. They aren’t special for being able to ride dragons. Nothing is special about controlling a creature whose only purpose is to destroy.”  

Your mind floating off to a thought you had come down here so early in the morning to avoid. A thud came from one of the higher tunnels, Tormund making his way out and calling your attention over. “How many places do you have shit stashed around this place?” A scattering of old tools now sitting in an ever growing pile.

You almost found it in you to laugh, “I was down here all alone most times. I wanted to make sure I always had tools and ropes in case I ran into issue with what I climbed down with.” 

Tormund shook his head in his own amusement. “If I wasn’t sure Snow would skewer me in my sleep for it, I’d have told these other two to piss off hours ago, pretty crow.” 

If Theon was posed to defend you, it was almost nice for him to see how easily you laughed and how relaxed you responded with no hesitation or fear of any real intent behind the words. “The day is young yet, Tormund.”

The manner in which Jon Connington was looking at him, continued to make him feel a slight bit on edge. Glancing up on multiple occasions with a squinting gaze that bordered on something like curiosity or leaning towards judgment. All three men at least were able to stay calm and steady during the course of their discussions, but it seemed that the Southerners continue to have no reason to believe in the things whispered beyond the wall. 

“I’m not the one who needs convincing. You’ve taken the island for yourselves, I can’t stop you from doing whatever you want here nor have you given me a reason to care. But if Aegon doesn’t agree to it, then that’s where this all ends.” 

Trying to be reasonable was more difficult then Jon initially imagined. Connington and Stannis seemed to be the pair at odds as long as it was the two of them in the room. One firm in his dedication to his King, the other a stubborn King himself motivated by harsh belief. They wanted to make this once more about the Iron Throne as if that was what mattered and Jon could feel the frustration in his veins rising. 

Glancing up at Ser Davos, both men shared a glance with the mutual understanding that they were all getting nowhere. Cutting into Stannis’s response, Jon raised his voice over to overpower the whole room instead. “Lord Connington, I was the one who wrote to him. I asked for peace, to stay here together beacuse what I’m fighting for has nothing to do with the Iron Throne. None of this had to happen this way, we could have all stood here and talked this out yesterday but it was Aegon who forced us to fight.” 

Connington’s eyes narrowed slightly, a strange wonder still behind them that was beginning to make Jon wish Ghost was with him. Commonly whatever intentions were behind someone’s eyes if Jon didn’t catch it, and you weren’t here to catch it, then Ghost would. But as he spoke, he peeled his eyes from Jon to look once more at Stannis. “Yet you failed to mention the ally at your side was also a King fighting for that same throne. Doesn’t sound like the peaceful course of action to me.” 

Not wavering once, Jon had no care for the insinuation. “I don’t speak for Stannis Baratheon. He joined this fight of his own choice, not mine. And this is his home your men invaded.” 

“And I suppose then it has nothing to do with it also being your wife’s girlhood home either.” His tone was doubtful and sharp but it clearly took both Jon, Davos, and Stannis back for a moment. 

Stannis glanced quickly towards him, but Jon had to keep whatever he thought that look meant internalized. “All that meant is that she and Stannis know this castle, this land. We knew whatever fight there was, would be short if we had two of them who knew this castle in more detail then you or I ever could.” If Jon simply didn’t address it then he didn’t have to fight off the echos in his head from coming to consume him in fear of it being a step too far.

“Marry me, let me take you home and marry me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Gods help him, Jon was so deep inside of you when that came clawing out of his mouth. He wasn’t supposed to pressure you into that, didn’t want you to assume he wished to replace Robb. But you had felt so good around him, and he had been pounding into you so roughly at that point he was barley in control of what he was saying. Nearly anything could’ve come out of his mouth.

Jon at least considered himself lucky that the worst, most lewd and unhinged parts of those thoughts still remained locked away in his head like a caged animal. If he scared you from his arms last night, he dared not think what giving into those desires entirely would terrify you of. 

Connington didn’t look convinced, but he also didn’t argue back on that point. Taking a moment to think before his eyes remained on the table at first. “This is not an agreement to work together,” eyes flickering back up between the two men. “But should Aegon decide he finds utility in this..cause of yours, then I would be willing to broker an arrangement with my men to be of some assistance. Only, if Aegon agrees though. Otherwise we are going to have a problem on our hands.” 

Nodding to Stannis very subtly, the man himself moved to speak to a pair of his guards as Jon and Connington looked at the other. Your name slipped from the laters mouth, “May I ask why she did not attend this meeting? Seems odd for a Queen not to be present for such a matter.” 

Luck found more on it’s way to Jon’s side as Stannis's tone was flat, smooth and without a hesitation. “She had other duties which needed attending too.” 

Whatever hints of an intensity reminding Conning so heavily of Rhaegar, were no longer shining clear in his eyes. And he felt uncomfortable with the fact that he felt relieved at such a sight. 

Jon Connington could see without any doubt however, that Aegon was in some of the worst of spirits as he accompanied guard to get him. Eyes narrowed and angry that struggled to let up even when one came into sight of the other. Standing up quickly, he approached the iron bars in an instant. “Are you alright?” 

He was taken back. Not the question he was expecting from Aegon, his head jolting back a little bit before shaking his head. “I’m fine, been through far worse then this. Are you alright?” Putting more emphasis towards his own fairing. 

Aegon swallowed harshly, shrugging one shoulder even though his voice was as rough as gravel. “Good as any humiliated prisoner can be. Suppose all the men out there had a good laugh at my loss.” 

Connington’s eyes felt a bit, tinted something washed over with a sorrow as he stepped forward. “Listen to me- Aegon.” His voice growing louder with no room for question. Not a way a man speaks to a King, but rather like a father to a son, and both parties didn’t speak of how they both felt it. “You’ve trained your whole life to be a leader, but you aren’t a soldier. You’ve never fought in a battle before last night, and you were up against an opponent who spent three years fighting in a war. No one, on their side or ours thinks that’s funny.”

For a moment he almost sounded like the child Young Griff used to be, muttering and not quite looking him in the eye as he crossed his arms over his chest. “How am I supposed to convince my people to see me as their King, if I was beaten by a girl the first battle I was in? Would my men follow me now knowing I couldn’t even lead one charge to victory?” 

Stepping towards the bars more, Connington rested one gloved hand on the it, wrapping around the iron and dropping his tone, hoping to catch Aegon’s eye. “And I was the one who surrendered to protect you. Yet they still are listening to me just fine. Every good leader fails before he succeeds, and you have only just started. This does not dictate your future, only right now.” 

Aegon nodded, and the quiet sat between them for a moment before quietly speaking up once more, “May I ask why you are walking free and I’m still locked away?” 

“I’ve spoken to our new hosts.” Aegon raised a half unamused eyebrow, catching back only a glimpse of a smirk on one side of Connington's face. “Jon Snow and Stannis Baratheon have something they would like to propose. A deal of sort, for peace. I want you to hear them out, what they have to say sounds extraordinary but the choice will be up to you.” 

As the guards opened the cell door, he spoke louder and this time there was no mistakening the playful but stern tone which most only heard from that of a parent “Aegon, this time when I tell you to follow your first instinct, make sure it’s actually yours. I’m asking you, I’m not asking Rhaegar.” 

Only seen by the guards down in those dungeons, as the door opened, both men found the other in a hug that felt far too much like father and son for whose actual son Aegon was supposed to go back being. 

If Jon were being entirely honest, this was the ugliest room he had seen by far on Dragonstone. To which judging by the look he shared with Ser Davos beside him, he was not the only one who thought so. The room was wide, tall ceilings above and much of nothing around. Only a large space of grey and black stone as it led up to a small set of stairs and what seemed to be the ruling seat of whoever was lording over the island. 

Many years ago, back when you had come to Winterfell after moving with your father to Kings Landing long term, he had asked you if the Iron Throne was as immense and threatening as the stories all spoke of it. He remembered so vividly the flat expression on your face and how utterly monotone you had said it. “It might be the ugliest chair I have ever seen in my life.” 

It was spoken to be high in the air and full of swords and spikes melted from those won in Aegon the Conquerors invasion. Many steps to reach just the seat as it loomed over all in the Red Keep. You hadn’t described much of what it truly looked like, but you ensured him it was as disappointing as it was ugly. 

The seat at the front of the Great Hall, was the ugly chair Jon always imagined. A window behind it shaped like the face of a dragon and the seat covering much of it was a jagged formation of black stone that had but one flat surface smoothed out into it to sit on. It was almost a bewildered amusement at how different this place was then Winterfell. 

There wasn’t even a singular, elaborate seat for lords like this. In Winterfell, the main hall was just a hall, every table, bench and chair looked all the same and there were seats enough where his father would sit that had many other beside him for council as well. This wasn’t suited for that, only for demand and control. Hard too, imagining either you or Stannis even sitting on that chair to do anything. 

Much of Dragonstone Jon found, felt like it was created by a people who saw themselves as gods and the more he looked the less he liked any of it. But the final judgment seemed to be lurking around the corner waiting to be brought up. 

Stannis coming to join, there was a lack of calm which was the last as they waited before. Ser Davos looked between both men, before glancing to his own attire. “I’m starting to think I’m not wearing nearly enough armour for this. Are we bracing for a fight or a meeting?” 

Jon’s voice almost echoed in the vast space of the room. “If he’s willing to listen to what we have to say, there’ll be no need for another fight.” 

“Not as if the boy would win.” Jon and Davos both turned to look at Stannis, who only held a glint which almost showed a hint of pride in his eyes.

At least someone was proud of you for that, Jon thought. He certainly wasn’t. Once more the thought crossing through his mind of how little he understood how it was Robb handled it. Every new mark or cut you got in combat only made Jon that much more on edge about having you anywhere near a fight. 

He should be proud, and deep inside of him was, how you had gotten yourself this far. But he couldn’t see passed a vision of you soaked in blood. Jon deliberately avoided putting any pressure on your ribs last night, and the sight of the blues and purples Aegon clearly had hammered into you. Aegon was lucky Jon had a far better handle on his temper then he once did. 

In a way, all three King’s seemed to stand as opposites. Aegon with a rich and ornate dark armour painted black with a bold red of a three headed dragon draped across the chest plate dramatically, his hair longer like Jon’s, but flat and dyed a stand out blue. He also reached much closer to Stannis’s taller stature. But he was hesitant, something light in his eyes that shined a bold blue matching his hair. He looked like a King but his eyes more like an unsure boy. 

Jon on the other hand, knew he looked not much like a King. His armour no more extravagant then any Northerner fighting by his side, only his own House shown just by the small sigil of two direwolves facing one another carved to blend into a small middle of his chest plate. In contrast Jons longer black curls were tied all the way back as matched the grey so dark in his eyes it would appear black in the right light. He stood shorter then Aegon, but with the weight of a leader on his shoulders that the others could see radiated something of authority. That, and Aegon had no sword of his own at this point, while the white wolf pommel of Longclaw sat proud at Jon’s side. 

Stannis however, blended into the room. Greys and Blacks in his wardrobe much like what you dressed in the times of war he know knew you in, and were he to stand still he might have disappeared into the walls, and Jon was fairly certain was intentional. If Jon stood as the opposite of what Aegon presented himself as, Stannis stood apart from the flash of what the Targaryeans showed off with. 

And Jon knew, Stannis was exactly where you got that habit from too. 

The men accompanying them introduced Aegon as he had approached almost as if meant to intimidate with it’s enormity. “I present his grace, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, Aegon of the House Targaryean, the sixth of his name.”

It felt like posturing, standing with men of the Golden Company at his back like guard dogs. The only one who stood on the other side of the parties, was Ser Davos. He and Jon shared a look almost speaking silently in a confused question of were they supposed to return the gesture?

Davos, without the decorum of what had just been presented, and if perhaps, just a bit of purposeful simplicity rather then any dramatics. “This is Jon Snow, King in the North. And-”

Aegon interrupted, his voice which sounded more sure and confident then which was spoken of in his eyes directing his attention first to Stannis. “Stannis Baratheon. The King who now stands in my way of the Iron Throne. I have heard much about you, some good, much bad. For someone claiming to be King it seems you are not much known as a popular man.” 

If that was a slight, Stannis budged not even part of an inch in care. His voice stern and cold as it was any time he was commanding the room. “Being well liked alone does not make you a King. It only makes you a fool enough to believe that is all it takes to succeed as one. My brother Renly was popular, stood against me and as soon as he passed, all of his bannerman came to my side and have been as loyal since. I do not need my men to like me, to trust me to lead them.” 

Aegon looked him in the eye, and there was something held back in his tone that did not speak of the same command. “And once the people have seen the rightful heir return to claim his throne, I am certain we will see which one of us holds the true loyalty of the people.” Stannis barley raised an eyebrow and as Aegon turned his attention to Jon, he knew it was possible the steadfast in how unaffected Stannis was had shifted the air in the dragon to something less confident. 

But that confidence did not leave Jon feeling the same. In fact, there was anger in what came out of the dragons mouth. “Now, forgive me, I have not been in Westeros for some years, but I could have sworn that the last King in the North was Torrhen Stark. Who bent the knee to my ancestor, Aegon, the first of his name.” Oh did Jon ever feel a rising heat in his veins begging to lash out. “In exchange for his life and the lives of the Northmen, Torrhen Stark swore fealty to House Targaryen in perpetuity. Which if I am not mistaken, means forever.” 

The last time he saw Robb was in the courtyards of Winterfell, a small smile on his face as they both stood younger and naive of the pain and blood to follow their separation. 

“The next time I see you, you’ll be all in black.” 

If he focused enough, Jon could still feel the last hug he ever shared with his brother, his closest companion his entire life. And he felt angry. He knew what Aegon was doing. 

Jon’s voice was a deep, angry rasp with eyes flashing to match. “I wasn’t there, I couldn’t tell you what my ancestor did. But you and I both know of the King in the North before me, the one the North chose first was my brother. Robb Stark was the King they declared after three hundred years of your families neglect of my people.” Robb died for the North, and not for a second was Jon going to stand there and let this stranger insult his memory.

Aegon was playing a game though, a game which he knew too many lords and ladies of this country thought was the way to gain power, but Jon only grew more visibly angry this time as he spoke. “An oath is still an oath. You mean to break faith with House Targaryean-”

Jon’s voice this time, did echo through the room. Stepping forward as his own face twisted in an anger as he shut down whatever this was supposed to be. He was not a Stark in name, but his father had four sons, not three. He still had Stark in his blood. “Break faith? Your grandfather burned my grandfather alive, he burned my uncle alive. Your own father-” Not many had heard Jon both yell or speak with anger before and clearly Aegon was not prepared for it. 

“Your family has been wronged by mine, I know this. But I am the last of my line.” Connington’s eyes narrowed, as he looked to Aegon but he ignored that look and pushed forward speaking to Jon. 

Stannis however, did catch the look given and when both men caught the others gaze, there was something unsettled as Connington realized it. There was one other Targaryean, and if Stannis knew about her, then likely you did too. And Jon Connington did not feel good realizing how little Lord Varys had shared about these people to him beforehand. 

Aegon continued, and Jon looked no less angry. If Aegon stood taller in height, Jon stood far taller in demeanour and was much more intimidating. “Our two houses were allies for centuries, and those were seen with peace and prosperity. A Targaryen sitting on the Iron Throne and a Stark serving as Warden of the North. I am The Last Dragon, Jon Snow. Honour the pledge your ancestor made to mine. Bend the knee and I will name you Warden of the North, like your father-” 

None noticed, but Ser Davos almost smirked. If purposely leaving Robb from his recounting of history was enough to make Jon this mad, then that final comment was the last of his patience. “I'm not standing here arguing about this. There’s no time for that, I don't time for any of this. I mean no offence, your grace, but I don’t know you.” 

This time, it was Stannis’s turn to find the amusement. Never once in their disagreements did Jon Snow ever use “your grace” in a drawn out, mocking tone. 

But he continued, stepping closer once more to Aegon as his eyes burned darker in black. “As far as I can see, your only claim to the throne rests entirely on your father and grandfather’s name, and my father fought to overthrow the Mad King. No amount of your empty apologies will make right what he did to my family. And certainly not what your father did to my aunt.” 

The room was quiet. No one spoke for a moment after that. If there was room for sorry in Aerys Targaryean burning Jon’s grandfather and uncle alive, there was not a single solitary room for forgiveness for what Rhaegar had done to his aunt Lyanna. 

Connington spoke after some quiet, Aegon and Jon not taking their eyes off the other the entire time as one brewed with a hesitant uncertainty and the other a deep, hardly contained anger. “King Stannis, I find it odd you are at this mans side. You hold to a claim to the Iron Throne through your brothers lineage, and yet how can you be the one true King of the Seven Kingdoms if you stand next to someone who has stolen the largest half of your Kingdom from you?” 

It wasn’t Jon who saw Robb that time, it was Stannis. And the mistake he spent a very long year and a half regretting. 

“I did not come here to fight, I came here to find any way to a truce...we have been dragged through the muck of your southern wars for far too long.”

He was calm though, and firm. “The North has been in open rebellion long before Jon Snow was King in the North. His brother Robb Stark claimed Northern independence first and I was ready to fight against him for it. Yet I am fighting at the side of his brother, the next King after him beacuse he has shown me that the true enemy lies far beyond that of King’s Landing.”

Aegon broke eye contact with Jon, and looked to Connington. So this was what he was to prepare himself to hear it seemed, but there was still enough spite from the past twenty four hours that something less then pleasant came rolling of his tongue instead of tucking it away, despite knowing he was better then petty insults. But it came out anyways. “And what does some bastard falsely calling himself King have any right to tell men like you or I what to do?” 

You had always called him Snow in playful teasing, and always with a true affection. Focus on that, Jon told himself. Focus on how that never mattered to you, and you made it easier to feel like it shouldn’t matter to him. Don’t stoop to Aegon’s level he warned himself. 

Ser Davos it seemed however, was the one who took up the mantle normally taken up by yourself in Jon’s honour. Defending him against leaving his image as nothing more then a bastard boy. 

“I know little of your life, your grace, but allow me to shed some light on his if you are so unfamiliar. Jon Snow is the first to make allies between wildlings and Northmen. He was named Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. He was named King in the North. Not because of some blood or birthright. He has no birthright, beacuse he is a damn bastard. But all those hard sons of bitches you fought against chose him as their leader because they believe in him. His brother didn’t name him his heir for any rights or honour, he did it beacuse he believed in him as his brother, as just a man who does the right thing.” 

It felt odd to Jon, hearing someone lay out their belief in him so blatantly, without prompt or question and he found little he could say to stop it. What would he say, he spent his entire life hearing people talk about him in the exact opposite manner, he had no idea how to take such praise. 

“All those things we’ve told you about, Lord Connington? He faced those things. He fought those things for the good of his people. He risked everything, took a knife to the heart, gave his own life-”

Wide eyed and almost panicked did Jon turn to Davos and he stopped in a second. The air along the room suddenly turned strange as it was Jon, Davos, and Stannis all in a silent heavy air of something that seemed more serious then a story or rumour. 

Jon Connington had told Lord Varys if this King really died then he could come to his shores like a man and show him his heart himself, but he didn’t ever actually expect this as a reaction to such a crazy story to come up. 

But Jon took charge and swung the topic as far from what scars lay deep over his heart as possible. “I have seen things you would never imagine, your grace. Winter isn’t coming, it’s already here and if we keep standing here debating whose king of what, everyone we know will die before winter's over, if we don't defeat the enemy to the north.” 

You had told him that day on Bear Island that leadership suited him, that his talk alone of the threats to the North were impressive and he hoped that was not just mere flattery. Aegon looked at him, a squint in his eye of curiosity instead of judgment. “And what is the enemy to the north exactly?” 

Jon was blunt and no one on his side gave any remote hint of joke or a lack of seriousness. “The Others. They’re here. I’ve seen them, I’ve fought them and even killed one. And they are coming for us with an army of the dead and if we let them get passed the wall and we have no way to protect our own, the only thing that’ll be left to sit on the Iron Throne will be a frozen corpse, and all you’ll be ruling over is a graveyard.” 

Aegon's voice was far away as it was breathless in nerves. “The Others have been dead for eight thousand years.”

Stannis was the one to respond, a tone just as heavy as Jon’s beside him. “They have been asleep for eight thousand years. Now they aren’t.” 

His tone even, not quite skeptical but something that wasn’t convinced yet not dismissive either as he looked to Jon. “If your raven is to go by, I presume you think such an answer lays beneath the mines here on Dragonstone? What exactly is hiding under the rocks that has you believing it can beat these things?” 

“We can destroy them by burning them, and we can destroy them with dragonglass. That’s what I came here for, not to challenge you on this claim or that claim.” The roughness in his tone was one which sent shivers down Aegon’s spine and a steadfast anger in Jon to force people to listen for once. “I’m not asking us to get along. I’m giving you the chance to help fight for the living, fight with us. The same thing is coming for every single person in this realm whether you believe me or not. This is an army that won’t leave the dead on the battlefield. They will just raise them back up to fight against us.” 

It was quiet, and one last challenge was left on Aegon’s lips. “And you come to me with this story, and expect me to believe it without a shred of proof. If you want my help, Snow, maybe you shouldn't have come here with an army, and their damned family.” Aegons eyes meeting the dark and unblinking harshness of Stannis's.

Jon’s eyes narrowed. If he was to be so stubborn, he could always drag Aegon beyond the wall and let him look into the eyes of the Others himself. He was tired of this, tired of this nonsense. Of people looking at him and his people like they were crazy, only believing in scary bed side stories. Jon and Tormund lost a lot of good men, women, and children that day in Hardhome, and it had him clenching his jaw painfully that it felt as if these Southerners would have to force such a nightmare to happen to them to finally listen to him. 

Only, just as the three men stared the other down did an echoing sound crackle through the hall. The great doors kept watch by guards on the outside slowly begun to crawl open as the sunlight peeked in properly across the darkness of the stones. But as all men in the room turned to realize who had walked in, only one found intention. After all, it was only the night before the fresh wounds on both their persons were placed there in that very same room.

The Great Hall stood as empty as it was tall save for a small group by the main steps of the Lord’s seat above. The easiest to spot was Aegon, the hair a bold blue as eyes to match looked over with a rough contempt as you begun to walk into the hall, as Aegon himself begun to descend the small set of steps to the same level as yourself. 

Whatever quiet words were shared between the men behind him, it seemed the conclusion they came to was to once more let you and Aegon face off with one another. An anger in his eyes towards you matched yours to him.

You had no real weapon on you and from what you could see neither did he, but the sharp flash over both your eyes were cutting enough. Only the echo of footsteps was heard in the hall as you both met in the middle. Floods of fury and fire brewed between you both as there was nothing else in sight but the eyes of a son trying to seek the same control that tore down the family before him. 

Breaking the silence first his voice was more quiet then you expected, keeping the echo away and fluttering only enough that you could be heard here and no more then whispers elsewhere. “The Queen in the North graces us with her presence. I am relieved you could take the time out of your busy day to discuss such important matters.” 

Your face however, much like Stannis before you, moved none. A cold look shining from your eyes as a stern expression set itself in stone just before a glare. You hardly raised your tone above a slight whisper, dripping in a frustration at his tone. “It is no business of yours what I do with my time, in my home, Targaryean. I do not answer to you.” 

“Who do you answer to, the King in the North? Or considering you were the one to attack me last night, perhaps he’s more merely your guard dog.” If he wanted to rile you up, someone should have informed Aegon that the only thing that could truly have you in such dire straits is the memory of a pale blue eyes attached to a slimy voice that coated your skin in more filth then you knew even now how to wash away. 

Your eyes drifted across his person with only a barley noticeable narrowed of eyes before meeting his, nodding to his chest plate. “Am I the first to carve a dent into that?” 

His jaw twitched in it’s clench, and a condescension rolled from his very aura. “Every great warrior has to start somewhere, doesn’t he?” You could feel the pulsing of the cut along your person he left, as you looked at him, and see once more the rage behind his eyes as he looked to you as nothing more then a monster to abolish from once you came. 

“And yet the only ones the Seven Kingdoms ever speak of are your own kin. Strange how only greatness comes from you and none else ever get the chance to prove their worth.” Robb had spent three years winning a war of so many sides falling all onto his shoulders to burden, and he emerged as a great King and yet all any will speak of him is the tragedy stolen from his life. Aegon’s ancestors were all remembered for their victories, and yet your husband lay scattered across the Riverlands and none will remember what led him there in the first place.

Aegon almost smiled though, and you found yourself hating it. Perhaps you were finally understanding Robert so long after his death. “My family is the blood of Old Valyria. We were the great dragonriders who conquered these lands. We are destined for such fates by birthright, by blood-” 

“Your dragons destroyed these lands.” 

He seethed visibly, and you did in your blood and poured from your eyes that he caught himself. All eyes were on you, but enough feet were apart between that no danger was to intervene from but you felt them all the same and could not quell that feeling rising within your chest. And yet, your voice softened to something that he didn’t expect. Something genuine. 

You knew the story too well, and were he true or not to such a claim, it was his family that were the forgotten ones of the rebellion. “I imagine it's difficult for you, being here. Being so close to Kings Landing. It was cruel, and vile what was done to your mother, and your sister too.” It was so well hidden to most not a soul would have caught a waver in his throat. “They didn’t deserve what happened to them, no one does.”

The breathless vitriol was not to blame, and you wouldn’t. “Yet your uncle did nothing to stop it.” 

Robert Baratheon wept no tears and sung no songs for Elia Martell and Rhaenys Targaryean. He saw Elia as a dead Dornish woman to be forgotten, and Rhaenys as nothing but the offspring of what so many years alter was his mortal enemy, but you knew when to defend him and when not too. “Tywin Lannister did all that. Aerys Targaryean opened the gates and he sacked the city, his men did that to your family. Robert cared not about their remains but it was not his order to brutalize and dishonour them like animals. I know too well, no one deserves such fate.” 

If Aegon saw anything in your eyes, he found no capability to bleed sympathy for it, nor did you expect any too. You wanted it to be not your life as well. “And yet you think my father deserved his. No one cared to provide justice for my mother and sister, but you demean me for wishing to find that very thing for my own father.” 

You stared right through him. The question in your mind finally answered. Had Jon Connington ever admitted to Aegon that his father kidnapped Lyanna Stark? Had he admitted he raped her? No. The answer was no. There was not a world you could imagine someone finding a softness over the long deaths of a mother and sister he never knew, but idolized a father who committed such atrocities had he thought they were truth. 

“That is what you think? That true justice is redeeming the image of Rhaegar Targaryean to the very people whose lives he ruined beyond repair?” He swallowed again, and you felt something choking your throat as your eyes refused to blink despite the sting. “That includes you, Aegon. He left you in that city too, under the control of a father he knew would not let your mother and you both leave.” 

Aegon flushed, something uncomfortable in his own lungs scratching away at his defences. “That boy was not me. That was some tanner’s son from Pisswater Bend whose mother died giving birth. His father sold him to Lord Varys for a jug of ale, and Lord Varys gave that boy to my mother, and took me to safety.” 

You didn’t blink, but you did feel for the sorrow to come. “And Rhaegar left you to die in that city with your mother and Rhaenys all the same. Tanner’s son or not, it was you he thought he was abandoning. And that’s the man you wish to be?” He swallowed and a redness almost poked through the colours behind his eyes as something bordering pity and empathy came into you and your voice. “I pray to the old gods and the new that you find it within yourself to become anyone but him. Dragons died for a reason, and it’s better we let it stay that way.”

Walking passed him, you brushed against his shoulder enough the material of your dark cloak ran across the overtly ornate design of his and Aegon didn’t turn to you in the slightest with any other word. You left early to think, and returned with that very thing shoved in your face to overwhelm the rest of it. All you could focus on to stay composed, was to wash off the grime of such a day, and start your work. 

Maybe the rest would leave you alone until you wouldn’t break the second you were faced with that same wonder that stunned you the night before. There were no similarities when you looked at Aegon, but you found fear asking you of looking over to double check in case it was too obvious to ignore upon looking his way, but resisted such an urge. Not here, not in front of all these people. 

You could feel Jon’s grey eyes following you the entire path as you left the Great Hall.

The path down to the level of the beaches was much faster this way. Many winding stairs were a steep but direct path down to the shores, the black stone leading into the dark rocks surrounding the landscape as only but small caverns and overhangs led to the sand surrounding out to the Narrow Sea. 

The climate was much more forgiving as your back current sat against such large rocks that blocked the path and sights around as your hair blew in the winds along with the flowing skirt of your dress as if asking to carry you up and whisk you across the waters to lands unknown. But instead you sat in the quiet as evening sun had begun to set behind you, leaving the skies ahead in a beautiful golden yellow turning almost light shades of a pink. 

Were you on the other side of the island, you would have held the object in your hand up to the setting sun, the books you had been scouring through spoke of dragonglass as being able to see the brightness in the sky without pain. Should you look up at it through what Maesters called obsidian. Instead it sat less shining or reflective in the shard twisted and turned in your hands. Your eyes narrowed slightly as you looked over it, trying to find any reason this was the thing which held answers to the realms foreboding danger. 

The ones being in your home once more brought to you felt nothing but like burdens at the rate this past day had brought. Fire, death, bloodshed, memories of painful pasts trying to force their way onto those not responsible in the present and an overlooking thought which threatened to consume you should you let it toxify in your mind too much. 

You only had a dream. You couldn't rely on that as truth. 

It wasn’t until the sounds of footsteps gently approaching hit your ears did you register that you had been cruel. How would it have felt were it you? He had every right to be angry at you for it, but as he chose to settle on the sands with his back against the rock beside you there wasn’t anger which waved off him. 

For a moment Jons eyes watched as yours did at the water, but not too long passed between until he gently opened his hand out to it. Silently you gave it to him, only then did the strength to look at him find you. Your eyes following as his brought up up to look closely at and yours continued that path to find his face. 

A few smaller scratches sat across his cheek from what you could see at this angle, but all else as you looked at Jon did you find was the same thing you’d always seen looking at him. Nothing hiding inside but the man you love. And you felt more cruel yet a sighing relief at such a fact. 

“Theon told me what you had been doing all day.” 

You nodded before realizing he wasn’t actually looking to see it. Only leaning a bit closer so that you could feel his arm brush against yours as you spoke quiet by his side. “I have some assembling a number of men now, and come morning they will start on the mine we worked on today. The longer it takes us to start, the longer it takes us to get home.” 

Jon ran his thumb over the flat end of the shard, eyes foggy as his voice was rasping at a distance trying to gently murmur your name, but you beat him to it with a heavier heart then you think he suspected. “I’m so sorry.” 

Finally his eyes met yours, the grey in them washing over with something confused but also upsetting in a way. “Sorry? What would you have to be sorry for?” 

Your own were already with a bit of a red sting, and your cracked throat wavered in speech. “Leaving you like that. After...after the night we had and then you wake up alone and I’m gone all day..it was a horrible thing to do. You would’ve never done it to me, I shouldn’t have done it to you.” 

Jon put the shard of Dragonglass down without a second thought, turning to look at you more and it made you feel so much worse at the ease in which the hurt sat in his bright eyes. One of his hands coming up to run along the side of your face until reaching your cheek. “I only want you to tell me what I said or did that you didn’t like next time instead of avoiding me.” Your brows furrowed in confusion as he ran this thumb back and forth over the gentle skin. “Last night, I clearly did something to scare you off. Was I too rough?” He hesitated before swallowing harsh but he looked back into your much more stinging red eyes. “Was it what I said about marrying you?” 

You hadn’t realized you were shaking your head until the motion was urgent, hand flying up to grasp at his and finding yourself pushing the fabric between his sleeve and glove to run your own thumb along his pulse. The other turning to face him more as you shifted more onto your calves, “No, it wasn’t you. You didn’t do or say anything wrong..I just..I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to wake you and later I just..”

“Got carried away?”

You nodded, letting go of his wrist as your own dropped into your lap. A shy glint hiding behind your eyes that caught Jons attention much more. The truth was not far off, but there was a medium you needed to pull him too. “I didn’t mean to worry you, I’m so sorry.” 

But Jon didn’t need anything else, he didn’t want an argument or a detailed answer or even for you to grovel. Instead choosing to pull you into his side, your head finding a home resting against his shoulder as you were leaned into him completely. One of your arms wrapping around his instead of letting him keep it across your back as the other rested along his forearm. Another quieter whisper from your lips passed the air against the wind and waves. “You were perfect, I’m sorry I made you worry you had done anything wrong. I promise it is the opposite.” 

For a good moment it was quiet between the two of you, the world never allowing you such quiet moments together it felt like. Not ones you could enjoy so freely. Never would you have imagined sitting on the shores of Dragonstone with Jon, being free to cuddle into his side with no scare of being caught. It was hard to get used too, being allowed to be seen as his. 

Jon was quiet when he finally spoke, “You don’t have too.” Your brows narrowed in question but didn’t move away from him. “Marry me, I mean. I shouldn’t have said it, I’m not trying to pressure you into it or..” His eyes closed for a moment and the weight was felt mutual between both of you. “I don’t want you thinking I’m trying to replace Robb.” 

If his voice had rasped out quietly, your own whisper was breathless and somehow even quieter after a good minute passed in the winds. “I don’t love one of you more then the other. Robb will always be part of me, and there wasn’t a second I was with him where what we shared wasn’t pure. He deserved to be loved and I wanted to be that for him. But you deserve to be loved as well.” 

Pulling his arm through the gentle hold you had, Jon properly wrapped an arm around you and tugged you right up into his side, your hands drifting across his front. One closer to his waist and the other drifting up and down where you both knew the scars sat. His voice a husk in your ear, “You can keep your name.” A hum left your throat as Jon turned to bury part of his face into your hair like a crutch of muffling support. “You took Robb’s name when you married him. You should keep that. There isn’t much honour in going from a Stark to a Snow.” 

This time you pulled from him with something frustrated in your eyes, and a wide insecurity in his that was softer then he had any right being. But as you sat there, your heart begged and pleaded. He did everything for everyone else, and for once you weren’t going to let him deny something that he never thought he’d have. “I became a Stark when I married Robb, but marrying you means I’m marrying you. You’re a Snow, which would make me one. That’s all there is too it-”

He swallowed harshly, a tear in his voice from years of something he tried to bury. “I can’t ask you to do that. Or make you force that onto our children.” Shaking his head slightly, he fought between pulling away from you and burying his face in your neck but chose to stay quite still, looking out to the waving tides rippling gold across the waters. “I used to be so scared of getting you pregnant. Always fighting how much I wanted to know what being with you would be like, and how much I knew any child we accidentally had, would be a Snow. How much everyone would look down on you for it, hate me for ruining your honour. How much everyone would judge whatever son or daughter we had for what I did to you. That’s why I wasn’t ready that day, why I hesitated. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I’d be ruining my own child’s life just beacuse I wanted to be with his mother.” 

That day was still vivid for both. You had found fear that was normal for woman, whatever gentle and innocent touches and pleasure you had explored together were nothing compared to the act itself of sex. You were too scared of it at the time, and you hated the idea of disappointing Jon beacuse of it.

“I had a lot other boys didn’t, but it didn’t change that being a bastard was lonely, and miserable. I thought, that's no life for a child. Would always think that whatever children you had deserved so much more.” 

You had never really spoken about it, not so directly, but the panic in your veins of that moment and what you begged of Robb in that anxiety and hurt never left you. It never left you how much your desperation had scared him, and how much you both looked to the other with such love and hope when he assured you. 

“Tell me we’ll love him, our son, tell me that we’ll both be here to love him.” 

The way Robb pulled you into his arms, resting your face soothingly in his neck as his hand ran gently across your then smooth, healthy stomach with a son named Ned. 

“We will love him, together. It’s not just you and me now. It’s us. All three of is, now and always. 

Your own voice cracked and it caught Jon’s attention, the sting in his eyes whipping over to yours as you now were the one looking to the sea. “When I finally told Robb I was pregnant-” 

“Finally?” You turned to him slightly and he pushed passed the water in your eyes to as, “You said when you finally told him. You kept it a secret?” 

Nodding, you wiped at the tears. Fruitlessly knowing more would fall in their place. “We were deep in the Westlands, marching onto Harrenhal, Theon had betrayed us..Catelyn had went behind our backs and released Jaime Lannister,” 

You continued on, but that was simply one more tidbit of a story Jon knew not a thing about. A memory that did come to him though, was the only time he’d ever spoken to him. At the time, he thought he was being mocked. Speaking to him like a boy who knew nothing of the world and that he was a fool for taking the black. But he also had mentioned you. 

Telling him he hoped Jon had gotten a “Nice, good pretty eyeful of her while you still have the chance. Beyond the reach of the law once you swear your vows, right? Do one last dishonourable thing with such a pretty girl before you never can again.” 

Turning to look intently at you, he did briefly feel shame thinking how beautiful you looked with tears running down your cheeks. Letting yourself express your heart so painfully when alone with him in ways you so rarely ever let yourself even feel. “I was so scared he was going to be mad. That I was adding one more thing onto his shoulders but then I told him..and for the first time in a very long time..I finally felt like home. I felt like I found something I truly wanted.”

But he knew, you didn’t just look shocked that day these visions collided at the same instance, you almost looked devastated. “All I could think of was, how much I didn’t want our child to ever grow up the way you were forced to. That no matter where we were or what our lives looked like, I wanted our son to have Robb and I there for him, to know he was always loved no matter what.” You inhaled shakily before finally coming to what was caught in your throat. “You never had to be called a Stark for me to love you, and me being a Snow, our children being a Snow doesn’t change that. We’ll love them together, and that’s what matters. Anyone else has a problem with their name, we could always throw them off the top of the wall.” 

Jon actually laughed, a bright charming smile as he laughed deeply. You had been spending too much time with Tormund.

Turning your face by your cheek to look at him, you found one of your hands reaching to run gently along his facial hair at his jaw in return. Running his thumb along your cheek before his voice came out low but full but in a tint of playfulness, “Don’t imagine Stannis and Selyse are going to be very happy having their grandchild be called Snow.” 

Leaning so your breathe would dance along his skin as you spoke, you moved the touch on his jaw to run light as a feather across his bottom lip with a breathy laugh. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’ve never done anything that’s made them happy before, no reason to start trying now.” 

Jon shook his head, but was the one to pull you into a kiss first anyways. Cupping the back of your head as it almost instantly was more heated then the tears on your cheeks would ask for. Only pulling from your lips long enough to murmur against them with a chuckle, “We are a mess, aren’t we?” You breathily laughed into him back, letting him return right back to kissing you deep enough you had to settle your hands on his shoulders to keep from falling back. 

Wrapping an arm around you, Jon beckoned you to stand up with him. Only giving perhaps half a second for you to keep steady on two feet before that arm moved to your hip, and his other hand slid to hold you partially by your jaw and neck as he pushed you into the rocks behind.  

Crowding you in an instant his kiss deepened, already leaving you feeling breathless and lightheaded against him. His lips were always so utterly soft and yet they also were so rough with you, leaving a tingling against them as he bit at your bottom lip before kissing you deep once more. Your hands slid up his chest and wrapped gently behind his neck. His tongue gently running across your lips and yet as you went to grant him permission, Jon pulled back enough to bite your lip to pull a gasp. 

Only sliding his tongue into your mouth as you did so, the hand on your neck tilting you up to surrender to him. Tongue brushing with yours and hand pulling your hip more as he pressed his hips into you. He swallowed the whine with a growl as you felt him harden beneath the layers. Jon pulled more and more whines into his mouth from you, kissing you rougher and deeper every instance after he would grind his covered cock into you harsher. The hand on your neck moving down, reaching to your other hip and almost shifting you both to be at his mercy. 

Slightly now leaning over you against the rocks behind, your hips pressed into the front of his as he pulled back from your lips. Red and swollen as his eyes black scouring the bite marks he left against your own lips. Consuming you with his dark, unmoving eyes as he knew you were growing more wet under the simple layers of your dress. One hand pressed beside your head as he leaned in, his cock twitching against you as he grew harder and harder every rut. 

His voice rasped deep and sultry as his eyes looked sharp and narrowed down at you, “Always loose my mind with I’m with you..” Leaning more so his lips brushed against yours but still stared you down, his strength alone enough you couldn’t move away from him if you tried. If the twitch of his cock spoke anything, he enjoyed that you looked almost on the air of intimidated, only able to breathlessly gaze up at him in a needy awe as you burned the more he grinded his hard, covered cock against you. “I get anywhere near you,” The hand on your hip grasped the skirt of your dress as you whimpered at the force and yanked it up almost exposing you entirely were Jon not right against you, “All I can think of is how I shouldn’t have any duties that aren’t burying my cock deep inside you.” 

You knew Robb said things like that to be vulgar, to tease how weak it made you. But you shivered at the darkness in Jon’s eyes, and how he almost barely seemed to register he said anything. That all this only spilled out of his mouth not to rile you up, but beacuse it was so deep in his brain that it came out on instinct. It didn’t used to be this intense between you, but all your brain told you to do was submit. 

Submit like a good mate and let your White Wolf do whatever he wanted, but there was something else still hiding in your mind. Something that knew he’d never ask for it again. He never asked in the first place, but you desperately wanted to give back. Make Jon feel good beacuse he deserved to. 

So your hands at his chest gently pushed him back. Not enough to move him or to even give you much in the way of room. But enough to press a light kiss to his lips and a tender loving one on his neck as you whispered, letting your hands run down his chest. “I want to make you feel good first.” 

His face twisted slightly as if not realizing what you meant as he rasped, “You always make me feel good, darling.” But that wasn’t what you meant, and Jon only grasped it as he muttered a very light, almost inaudible, “..fuck..” as you so gently and almost with a pure and innocent softness bright in your eyes, let him keep you pressed tight against the rocks as you dropped to your knees.

Jon swallowed harshly, closing his eyes for a moment before looking up to the sky as if pleading for mercy as you ran your hands so gently along his thighs and hips like a massage. Not moving at all to pull him out until he looked back down at you, that same plead silently asking you to get up for him but you stayed kneeled. “Jon,” His hand ran along the sides of your hair, “Please, will you let me make you feel good? Can I suck your cock?” 

Inhaling deeply, Jon’s jaw clenching so tight he ran hand along your hair now cupping the back of your head, he seemed to not risk anything, saying nothing. Only nodding yes, as he raked along your hair as you so carefully moved. Only giving enough room to pull his cock out as it already sat hard, red and leaking cum. Gently, you licked almost like a kitten at the thickness along him, before running your tongue and lips down the length of his cock with as much gentle touch a you did everything else. 

Something burned in your chest, desperate to just show him a pleasure he always deserves but so rarely ever let himself have. Slowly letting your tongue brush the length of his cock before licking his tip once more. Eyes sliding shut as you slowly took him into your mouth, a deep grunt trapped in his chest trying not to lose it. Ever so slowly, you let the saliva build up in your mouth as you took him inch by inch, your hands flexing as you held by his hips. 

You almost had no choice but to take him deep, so little room was behind you including his hand in your hair. Jon was breathing heavily above you to keep collected and feeling like he wasn’t succeeding. A low hum in your throat vibrated against his cock, something that both overwhelmed your senses letting him slide deep into your mouth but truly didn’t want to stop. 

Almost two thirds of the way, you begun to bob your head along him, sucking him as with each slide inside your mouth deep did Jon’s hand on your hair tighten. Not controlling your movements, but almost keeping himself grounded as his muscles tensed. 

He was heavy on your tongue, and your jaw already aching from the stretch but you whined at the feeling of him deep enough that it once more tested your inner panic. Taking the rest of his cock until he reached the back of your throat, your nose pressed against the coarse hair around the base of him you slid almost all the way of his length before smoothly gliding back as deep. Each pull back on his cock you sucked him with your own need making your thighs ache to press together.

There was something about being with you that made Jon feel as if you continued to bring things out in him he never knew would rile him up this much. Being outside, one could come across the two of you, and see their fierce and headstrong Queen so willingly down on her knees before the King in the North. Something perverse in Jon almost found the idea of someone catching you two like this appealing. As if it made him feel ever more turned on, as if he dared anyone to catch you both, fighting the fantasy in his veins if someone did see. 

You wouldn’t even know if someone was watching, not while you were soaking his cock deep in your warm mouth, and he wondered if you two were caught, would Jon even try and pull you off him? 

Or would he let the possessive wolf inside him, force them to watch, knowing that seeing you so eagerly sucking Jon’s thick cock would be the closest any would or could ever get to having you for themselves. Jon knew if he were a worse man, he may have chained and gagged Ramsay and forced him to watch you give everything to Jon that the vile man tried taking violently from you.

Take you apart with every bit of sanity you had left until Jon’s touch was all which would keep you tethered to the earth. And only killing Ramsay once he finished watching Jon take for himself, everything that the man wrongly thought belonged to him. 

If it were possible, the image of getting caught as Jon was slid so deep in your mouth, or just as he came heavily down your sweet, sensitive throat, made him almost throb harder.

He still was trying to stay quiet, couldn’t bury his grunts or growls in your kiss and all he could do was try and not to shove your head right back down to take his entire length. Gritting his teeth as his knuckles turned white gripping your hair, he felt himself clawing closer and closer to the end. 

You felt his cock throbbing in your mouth, and you only felt both the desperate beg inside to give you a moment to breathe but also finding yourself more eager to help coax him to that end. Wanting him to feel good the way he always insisted doing for you instead. 

Murmuring your name, Jon was trying to pull you off his cock and through a rough husking tone he hissed out as your mouth soaked him, “You- gods you really want me like this, you want me to spill down your throat?” Like he couldn’t comprehend why you would actually want to swallow his cum, the thick, warm seed that you had no logical way of explaining in the moment, that you desperately needed. 

Only, just as Jon begun to call out your name, he throbbed inside your mouth and looked down at you with a clenched jaw breathing heavily. “You’re too good to me. So fucking good, my beautiful girl..you don’t have to do this..I just..fuck, I only need your cunt..” 

But as you took him deeply, you felt him pull your head close to his hips, once again pressed right up against the dark hair around the base of his cock, and this time it was your whimper that did him in. A gentle hold on his hips and a tender moan around him had Jon shake. Spilling deep down your throat with a rasping growl of your name, his hand kept you pressed as deep as he could sink in your mouth but he almost massaged your hair, raking through it more gentle then he had any right being as he fed you all of his thick cock’s seed. 

You moaned and the muffled gag of you trying to swallow all of him, feeling almost more worked up at how good it felt and how wet it made you, to feel him spill so deeply down your throat and into your stomach. 

But he wasn’t done once he pulled you off, no, this time Jon yanked you up to your feet. Shoving you against the wall as he hovered over you, pulling the skirt of your dress up only enough to grasp hold of the thin fabric covering you from him. 

In Jon’s mind he couldn’t hear or see the world around him, only you. And the feeling of your covering soaked did Jon hide his face in your neck. Biting and kissing roughly as he tore the fabric off of you, pressing you into the rocks more when you whined against him. 

One hand moved under the flowing fabric to run his cock along your soaking wet entrance while the other cupped your cheek, pulling you into an urgent kiss. Jon sparing not much time before he sunk his cock as deep as he could. Using his hold to shove you more against the rock, keeping one of your legs bent up and wide as he never pulled any more then a few inches out of you. 

Your insides twisted like a coiling metal ready to snap as Jon kissed you, your own hands unable to do anything but grasp at his shoulders. All but forcing your lips to part so he could slide his tongue in your mouth, Jon begun to thrust up into you, but this wasn’t the slow start he took his time with. 

He kept a hand behind your head keeping you against the mercy of his kiss as the other kept you stretched wide for him as Jon pounded into you. Were the tides and waves not mixing with the covers of wind, someone might have heard the desperate sound of Jon moving to kiss down your neck. Not even with bites, just presses of lips as he felt his heart desperate to just have you close.

Cock pounding into you fast, and somewhat rough especially keeping you on a gasping, pleading edge of his name as the sensitivity of your walls were dragged along once more. Every time his cock was deep you felt no more breathe in your lungs. Hands urgently pulling his hair loose, Jon shifted you up more so you could bury your face between his hair and in his neck and holding onto him tightly with little more then moans. 

He asked nothing of you, only holding you there as he fucked into your soaked cunt almost coating his cock even more with your own wetness that were he to have you alone in a room would have been a beautiful soaking sound each time his hips slapped into yours. 

It looked like nothing more but a desperate, fast and rough fuck but Jon held you and you held him back burying the other to hide close. Jon holding your head close hiding in your hair as he felt you clench around him and only then did he pull back enough. Making you look at him as you were dangled on his cock asking to let you cum, Jon’s eyes less black and more of a needing grey as he whispered roughly and raspily to you, “It’s alright, darling, you can let go. I want you to cum for me, I promise, please cum for me..I need to feel you, I need you so much..” 

Your head only nodded as something close to tears wanted to fall at how raw his voice mixed lust and a gentle need while his cock sped you towards an orgasm and as soon as you gasped, grasping his hair and pleading his name did he find his own end only seconds after your own orgasm snapped bright and flooding passionately within you. Clenching hard around him whimpering his name meekly.

Spilling deeply inside of you as you clenched and soaked his cock, he kept you on him the entire length sunk so deep inside you as he shook against you. Both burying your faces into the others neck and hair until you felt every last bit of his thick, warm cum spill deeply inside. 

Breathing heavily against one another, Jon kissed you gently when you whimpered as he pulled out of your cunt. Your skirt dropping back down to cover you while you gently pulled away from him enough to cover him back up properly as well. 

Still breathing heavily, your hands fell to his waist as Jon’s ran along your hair before tilting you up for a kiss. Not greedy or pushing, but an intimate kiss that spoke of love you had so long had to pretend never existed. Pulling away to press one against your forehead before resting against yours with his until he knew you were calming back down to earth. 

His voice was strained and rough as he spoke quietly through a gentle laugh. “Seven hells..I don’t know what came over me, I'm sorry..” You laughed back more freely, a charming brightness in his eyes as you both laughed against one another much more innocently for the desperate fuck just seconds earlier. 

You ran your hand through his hair, looking up to his bright grey eyes. “Why do I suspect you aren’t actually that sorry?” 

His grin grew brighter, kissing you once more as he whispered playfully against your lips. “Probably beacuse I’m not.” Leaving another kiss to your lips, and then to your forehead as he tilted you down to leave it there, your hands pressed along his chest before he pulled you into his arms.

If Jon had decided he was sure about one thing, it was what he said after everything was settled the night before. Brewing moontea for you as he had you lay under the sheets to relax, knowing no matter what you claimed of feeling fine, he had gone more rough then he intended. Telling you almost casually, that he wasn’t getting you pregnant for the first time anywhere but his own bed in Winterfell. 

He was however, as the two of you made your way back up to the castle, considering to what degree of uncomfortable a conversation would it be to go back to Maester Pylos so soon. There was no getting around that he was going to know that perhaps Jon had an appetite for you a bit more high and demanding then what the man was expecting on the first request for it.

Jon knew he felt eyes, but had no idea that there had been more then one pair, watching the entire time you had been passionately wrapped up in each other along the isolated shores of Dragonstone. 

One pair of eyes that almost crawled like a spider, but the other was one that none could guess. 

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #jon snow #robb stark #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #jon snow imagine #robb stark imagine

[rowaelinsdaughter]

KEEP MY HEART CHAPTER IV

a/n;; i hate iskra so much almdofnmdoiajnid

WARNINGS;; spoilers for heir of fire, soft manon (not even a warning but omg), bl00d, angst to comfort

the day of the selection had finally arrived and manon was eager. titus was hers. she had been talking about it with ayla the night before. she could imagine manon flying with him, but she had a bad feeling, something was going to happen, something was off. 

forty three wiches were gathered on the platform waiting for the wyverns.

the three matrons would draw sticks if more than one claim was made on a mount, and ayla knew titus was going to be the most claimed wyvern. standing by her side, manon was getting more anxious as time passed. 

she looked at the wyvern who was already chained to the wall, ready for the other wyverns to beat him up, and the wyvern looked up at her. the magic didn’t exist anymore, but she could have sworn she felt something different in him, that this wyvern, half the size of the others, was special.

one after another, the wyverns were brought and claimed, asterin claimed a female. the fiercest one and cunning eyed. it suits her ayla thought. a knowing look between her and manon. she felt petrah blueblood getting closer before the others, thanks to her fae blood. petrah gave ayla a nod and went straight to manon’s side, a soft snarled from asterin was the only warning.

“waiting for titus, aren’t you?”

“and if i am?”

“i’d rather you have him than iskra.”

and then she tensed as she felt iskra closer, right behind them. a little squeeze on her hand was the only reaction from manon as she was still looking at the tunnel. 

“plotting already?” iskra teased. ayla was going to answer when the blueblood heir said as she lifted her chin “i think titus would make a good mount for manon”.

titus thundered out, snapping to the men there. he wheeled on the bait beast, striking him with his barbed tail. ayla flinched a little. he was a beast, utterly cruel. and titus struck again. again. again. at that moment manon knew titus knew where to hit, where it would cause the most agony. a whip sounded but he kept pacing in front of the bait beast.

“if you want him so badly,” iskra whispered, “why don’t you go get him?” 

and she pushed her. 

“MANON!!” ayla shouted followed by asterin and she watched as manon slammed into the ground. she was going to the pit, but a pair of arms stopped her from going, and sorrel dragged her down to the floor. “LEAVE ME DAMN IT” but the matron gave the order that no one was going to the pit, and she could only watch manon and how titus turned toward her. pure fear. that was what she felt. the wyvern was between her and the gate but he had his dark eyes pinned on her. she needed to run, she needed to get out of there. even with wind cleaver she didn’t have any chance. but titus was looking above her, and behind her… the bait beast. the wyvern was looking at manon with hunger, but she knew that the emotion was for titus, not her.

so manon twisted to her feet and ran.

ayla watched as manon ran to the open gate, just as the little wyvern slammed his tail against titu’s head. 

and the fight began. tails and claws. but everyone knew titus would win. he was stronger, bigger. the bait beast dodged the tail by slamming its own down atop it, but couldn’t escape the jaws that latched on to its neck. he couldn’t get free. and manon ran for titus and brought wind cleaver down upon his tail. 

ayla’s heart was beating so fast she knew everyone could hear it. she watched as the bait snapped titu’s throat. they all watched titu’s dead body. 

men were rushing in with spears and swords and whips, and the bait beast growled.

manon held up a hand. and again, the world stopped. 

manon, eyes still upon the beast, said, “he’s mine.”

at that, a sob broke through ayla and she felt to the ground.

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

abraxos. that was how manon named her wyvern. 

when manon came, she was filthy and her ankle was wrenched. ayla ran to manon, crushing her with her arms. “gods manon, i-” she couldn’t talk, and she felt manon’s arm’s on her shoulder’s. she then looked where the yellowlegs heir was being held by asterin. “looks like i lost my footing” she simply said.

that night, in the mess hall, ayla and manon looked as iskra whipped asterin in front of everyone. apparently it was her fault manon fell in the pit. and asterin didn’t scream. and after that, her grandmother called her. she had slapped her in the face and told her she had humiliated her and every blackbeak by choosing abraxos, but ayla knew there was some kind of bond between abraxos and manon. not like the one they had, but she had known the moment he had looked at her that he was different. a warrior indeed. 

later that night, ayla was perched on manon’s lap, her face hidden on her neck, while manon comforted her, her hands stroking her back.  

“i nearly lost you today, manon. i couldn’t think straight. all i could think was that i needed to go to the pit and… i don’t want to lose you manon.” she moved away from her neck so she could watch her golden eyes. “i can’t lose you manon, do you hear me?? i. can’t. you’re all that i have, you’re the only one i have.” she took her face between her hands “so hear me out manon. don’t you dare lose this game and don’t you dare die during it.”

manon rested her forehead with hers. “i’m going to win and and you're not going to lose me” she kissed her softly. it was rare, so rare that manon was soft. even with her, she was chaos, a storm. she was passionate, her kisses were heated everytime their lips met. but know, manon blackbeak knew she had nearly died, and also knew that her mate wouldn't have gotten over it. so ayla followed the kiss, while manon lay her down on their bed, and made her remember that she was going nowhere. 

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

“why’s he curled up like that?” manon asked the man. 

she looked inside the pen where abraxos was. ayla at her side, and asterin lurked in the shadows, was monitoring everything. she wasn’t going to let manon out of her sight. 

“suspect it’s ’cause he’s never had a pen to himself. not this big, anyway.”

“where did they keep him before?” asked ayla. the man looked at her from head to toe. lust reflected in his eyes as he took the sight of her breasts, her waist, her legs… ayla noticed the look and with a movement of her wrist, her iron nails snapped, a wicked smile displayed on her face. and a proud smile appeared on manon’s face. a squeeze to her waist. good job witchling.

the man swallowed three times before answering. “with the other baiters in the sty. he’s the oldest of the baiters, you know. survived the pits and the stys. but that doesn’t mean he’s suitable for you.”

“if i wanted your opinion on his suitability, i’d ask for it,” manon said, eyes still on abraxos as she approached the bars. “how long to get him in the skies?”

“could be days or weeks or months. could be never.” 

ayla watched abraxos uncurl a little so he could see between his wings. and again, ayla thought that manon had made the best decision.

all rights reserved to ©rowaelinsdaughter. no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.

tagging;; @danikamariewrites @thehighladywrites @hellwantfuckme @shadowdaddies @callmeblaire

#sarah j maas #sjm books #fanfic #throne of glass #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass fanfiction #manon blackbeak #manon imagine #manon fanfic #manon fanfiction #manon x ayla #manon x oc #my ocs <3 #my ocs #my oc character #my oc stuff #oc imagine #oc fanfiction #oc #ocs

[skyward-floored]

Hi again, do you have any recommendations for good Sky-centric fanfictions? I'm craving angst and fluff and all that stuff and given that Sky is literally in your name, I thought you might have some suggestions lying around.

I’ve read a lot of lu fanfiction in general, so yep I’ve got some good suggestions! Hopefully you haven’t read some of these before :)

I’ll assume you’ve read Down before, since it’s like the one everyone’s read. Sickfic for everyone, but Sky is the focus, it’s very good.

Through Thick and Thin is good claustrophobic Sky angst, the chain has to crawl through a very small tunnel to get out of a cave. Good banter, and the descriptions are really good in this one.

To Isolate is crazy long and deals with some dark stuff, very psychological angst and things, but it’s also really good. General Sky focus, but everyone has their moments.

Elastic Heart, Sky goes missing, the chain is frantic, Sky’s sort of falling apart, there’s a curse reveal... this is one of my favorites :D @skyloftian-nutcase has a lot of good Sky fics as well, so I’d really suggest checking out more of her stuff! (Numb is another really good Sky one she’s written)

Link, Chosen Hero of Dragons is another favorite of mine. It has fluff, it has Sky and Four and Hyrule hanging out, it has DRAGONS, and Sky having a connection with them, what more do you need?

Touch-Starved is short, but I like it because it’s all about how much more touchy Sky is then the other Links, and how he really misses Skyloft where touch is more commonplace.

Clouded is Sky getting a bonk on the head and Legend being a softie. Very well-written concussion, all the chain are very caring in this :)

And My Beating Heart is Sky and Time, and quite a bit of tension between the two. I haven’t read this one in a while, but it’s very well-written, and the Sky and Time dynamic is really good. The author does a good job of exploring it, and there’s also Rito :D

#hope these are what you were looking for! #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu Sky #linked universe Sky #fic recs #gryphonlover #answers from the floor

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Sorry, Wrong Comms! : Hunter x Medic!Reader [Chapter 1]

Much more recently written fanfic I started to distract myself from the "mild" trauma of Season 2 finale based on ideas that wouldn't work for "Rough Stuff". This fic is absolutely RIFE with my personal headcanons. Clones deserved so much better, and I will be a giant mess when I get to Pong Krell in TWC as I have since started rewatching it.

Warnings & Information: Intended audience is 13+, 18 if you squint. Hurt+comfort material primarily; there is still a fair amount of angst, fluff, and all the good stuff. Reader has she/her pronouns. We really like italics in this house. Peep this for funsies for why I decide to use Mando'a. By no means comprehensive, in no particular order there will be: Mild injury description + care, blood, vague medical terminology (read as: pretending to understand medical stuff), use of restraints, needles (autoinjectors), near-death(s), nausea and non-descriptive mentions of vomit, Star Wars swearing, drugs (both medical and recreational references), minor adult themes + implications, avoidant behaviors, trickery and light mean teasing in the forms of siblings and crushes. 

Series-inaccurate allusions to Crosshair never leaving Bad Batch post Order 66 execution [because while this is an AU fic, I am also very much an Avoidant Mess™], Batchers never meet Cid, fair chance of misremembering any referenced events from TCW series. Series accurate allusions and references to canon violence (AKA: literal war crimes, weapon injuries, etcetera).  

Word-count: 4,637

She couldn't remember the last time she had a really, really bad day outside of her medical clinic. There was a tip-off that an abandoned medical center on a neighboring mining planet within the system had supplies too tantalizing to ignore. Valuable paraphernalia that was being phased out by this emerging Empire, ripe for the taking. Did the mining company really have to build this settlement on the steepest face of the mountain? No, they probably didn't realize how unstable, unsafe and ultimately unsuitable this location was while they riddled the inside of the mountain with tunnels as they harvested precious ore and minerals. This was a boomtown and it had completed two of the three strikes typical of such: strike it rich, strike it fast, strike it down. The people living and working here had to abandon it in a hurry before they demoed the place. This mining company hadn't done their proper research and now the shells of their temporary structures were all that remained. 

But a scrappy little scavenger had found the medical center was still fairly flush with supplies and let the first medic who was willing to help them with their injuries know about the score. 'It'll be dangerous. If you're going, tell a friend so they know to come looking for you if you don't get back after a certain time. But these items are pre-Empire, they aren't making them like that anymore, so you'll want these. Trust me. I think you'll find them worth the risk of a rock slide or two.' 

It. Was. Not. Not really, anyways.

She was just glad to be home now. Put the day behind her. No more rock slides. No more rusted shells of buildings that made for excellent deathtraps. No more falling halfway down the mountain she climbed up in the descent to her ship in the foothills and losing almost every last med supply she came with after slipping on a patch of loose, fine-grain sand just after navigating the maze of the medical center. She had to hobble down the rest of the mountain with nothing to clean out the open wounds and prayed to everything and anything that she didn't contract something that had leached into the rock as the by-products of mining and refinery. She had to stumble into her ship and send a message to her back-up at home that she was 'hurt pretty kriffing bad' but alive and would be back planet-side after dinner; don't wait up for me, I'm too damn tired to swing by after all. Tell the others I'm sorry.

Her instructors in med school would be having a conniption if they saw the way she had tended her wounds so lazily and would never let her hear the end of it for the juvenile, sloppy attempt to bandage the laceration on her dominant arm, but she was too tired to care. (But if she ever saw that scavenger again, she'd kill them for failing to mention several things. The collapsing roof in the west stock room, for starters.) She'd deal with it all properly in the morning. She just wanted to sleep after sucking down two tubes of nutrient paste and a mixed handful of painkillers and antibiotics to ward away pain and infection.

She picked up her datapad one last time and hissed a deliberate dictation into the mic after tugging the knot to the wrapping one last time for good measure. "I'll deal with that bantha fodder in the morning… Home safe. Going to bed. Goodnight." 

She'd accidentally sent it to the wider group beyond the singular contact when five messages popped up in short succession. 

Glad you're home safe. Sleep well, kid. 

likewise

GOODNIGHT!:)

Yes, goodnight. 

We'll see you in the morning, burc'ya. 

Hopefully she'd feel well-rested with the sunrise. Crawling into her bed, she dropped heavily on her side and clutched a well worn Tooka doll in her favorite colors named after her very first childhood pet to her chest as she drew the covers up over her shoulders. Maker, she was so tired. It wouldn't take long before sleep came for her, feeling the first beckoning pulls on her eyelids after just a few moments. 

Her comms gave a harsh screech, jolting her awake in her bed. Just when she had drifted off… This better be important. An actual karking emergency. Someone who had her personal frequency had better be dying if they were contacting her. "What."

There was a lot of shuffling and keypad beeping on the other end of the comms channel, but no one spoke right away. Just when she was about to either call out a hello? or simply disconnect her comlink, she heard someone speak up. Clone Sergeant Hunter. "Tech is this really necessary to keep the-"

"If we want an accurate oral temperature, yes." 

There was a groan over the channel, then the sharp rustle as the comms got bumped or adjusted in Hunter's hand. "Well the longer I have it in my mouth the closer I feel to gaggin-"

She shot upright in her bunk, slightly grossed out and confused all at once. "What the kriff are you-!?"

The two Clones on the other end of the comlink gave their own startled shouts, realizing they had a disembodied voice suddenly joining their company. "[____]! How-?" 

She was quick to cut Tech off, pulling the comlink closer to her face to amplify her furious tone of voice. "Did one of you seriously call me - in the middle of a medical check - when I'm trying to sleep!" 

"Sorry, [____]." Hunter mumbled shamefully. "Must have switched on my comlink by mistake… Didn't mean to disturb you when I know you've had a hard day." What an understatement, Hunter. The impulsive venom in her mouth was hard to hold back, encouraged by her frustrations and discomforts bubbling over. "Hard day made harder thanks to you." She regretted it in a heartbeat. Thank the Maker the enhanced Clone wasn't in the room with her; he'd probably have been able to hear the way it skipped a beat if he was able to sense the beginnings of seismic activity, smell the way she felt her body begin to shiver in a forming, cold stress-sweat as the shame of her anger washed over her. 

"You're right: let me make it up to you." 

She was told to come over to the Batch's housing. Crosshair opened the blastdoor for her before she even had a chance to knock to avoid waking anyone sleeping if she used the buzzer. "He'll be in the main area."

"What, no "Hello, taking care of yourself like I told you to?" tonight, Cross? Even as a joke, after the day I've been having, to lighten the mood?" 

There was a half-hearted scoff (or maybe that was a soft laugh) from the Clone at this."That's more Wrecker's thing," Cross drawled in a casual voice around a toothpick, sidestepping to let her squeeze inside, "and I'm not really interested in pretending I can't see that you are not taking care of yourself."

"No, of course not Mr. Sharp-eyed, Snarky Sniper. 'Cause I fall down the mountains of abandoned mining settlements for kriffing fun." 

If Cross was phased by the uncharacteristic anger of the medic tonight, he didn't really show it. Just a little twitching pull of his upper lip on one side and half-lidded eyes that betrayed a bit of amusement and disappointment. "Mmp. C'mon, kid. I'll see if I can't find a half-decent ration bar somewhere around here for you." 

"Not hungry, Cr-"

"Don't care." He interrupted in a brusque tone, not giving her the opportunity for excuses. Crosshair was the kinda guy who didn't like excuses, either in giving or getting, and could be quick to shut that kriff down. It was refreshing sometimes, but tonight it was just another mild annoyance of [____]'s day. 

Whatever. She was going to go find Hunter where Cross said he'd be rather than waiting around in the entryway forever. "Skipping meals again, are we burc'ya?" As a medic, she often missed out on a meal or two while she was aiding the galaxy's sick and injured, and the unintentional habit carried over when she wasn't at the clinic. Something that made her friends fret over her like this. "For once I had all three meals. Only thing I swear went right today…" There was a pause as the medic heard a comment from the small kitchen on the left from the common room and she added with a gentle sigh, "aside from not breaking any bones during that nasty fall, too I guess." 

Hunter looked relieved and genuinely proud of her, sincerely surprised she wasn't tired and hungry like many nights in the past. Crosshair just turned on his heel back into the kitchen unit without breaking his stride, after a little shuffling around in the cabinets [____] could hear the sink running. "Well that's… good! Proud of you, kid." 

"...Than-"

Cross set the glass of water he'd filled for her in lieu of the ration bar down on a low table in the common room in the middle of the light conversation she was having with Hunter. "Here. I'll leave you two to it. Goodnight."

"U-um, thanks, Cross. Goodnight…" Cross nodded nonchalantly at her, next turning to his brother, who was quick to avoid his eyes before Crosshair just turned and left the two of them. Leave you two to it, what did he mean by that that had Hunter looking so nervous with a wave of color creeping up his neck from under the collar of a fresh nightshirt? "What's going on, Hunter? Do I need to be worried about something? Something show up on the health check? Do you need some nysillin tea or- s-something?" 

Hunter shook his head, a tender, reassuring (and touched) smile slowly building. You could take the doctor out of the clinic, but you couldn't stop her from thinking about her job. "Nothing's wrong, k'uur... Just thought I was feeling a little under the weather, but I'm perfectly fine. It's nothing more than just making it up to you after waking you. Plus, for once, you won't have to patch your own wounds. Why not have someone take care of you the same way you take care of others?" It was the same thing he'd said to her at the end of their first of many interactions in this seedy little travel-hub. The time she'd undoubtedly saved Crosshair's life after he'd picked up a nasty little parasite while slogging through the swamps of some distant planet. Kashyyyk? It was probably Kashyyyk. 

[____] was in a sour arrangement then with some smugglers with hair-trigger tempers to come and go as they pleased with her small clinic, and these Clones had been kind to remove the problem clientele "with discretion" as a way of paying her back. She'd saved their "stubborn vod". They saved her and now trusted her to treat their injuries no matter the cause, turning up at odd hours for the oddest of injury or malady. Complete faith in her in a hostile galaxy who now wanted… whatever it is they wanted with these Clones. She didn't ask. She didn't want to know. 

She'd heard the stories from those who fled the war encroaching nearly every part of the galaxy. She'd heard of the war crimes, seen the horror and gore and bloodshed step into at least two of the medical centers she once worked in… known of an Order 66 and what became of much, if not all, of the Jedi… She didn't want to know. They often didn't want to tell, beyond giving vague recollections when they were making arrangements for short-term prescriptions for sleeping supplements with the medic when the nightmares were overwhelming. 

Much like scouting the abandoned medical facility in an old mining boomtown for various 'sillin supplies, life seldom goes the way you wish. 

"C'mere, ad'ika. Let's get you patched up." He patted the space beside him on the couch in invitation, pulling a medkit closer with the other hand all while looking at her with the same softness he often reserved for his sister. When [____] first met him, she could have sworn Omega was his daughter. "Unless you're not okay with that." Hunter added, addressing her hesitation he could hear in the rhythm of her pulse, her heart. 

"I'm fine with it… just really tired and brain's kinda closing shop for the night. Sorry." Taking the seat indicated, [____] sunk back into the furniture, sighing. She didn't want to bring up why she was hesitating on him. He carried enough guilt as a participant in the old GAR… Hunter broke the seal on the new packet of medical tools, prepping everything he thought he'd need. "Don't be, ad'ika. Now, have you taken something for the pain already?" 

"Rhetorical question for a medic, don't you think?" The tired, teasing question was met with a single chuckle. He knew she would have, he was just making small talk. "Anything else? Ask me if I'm taking any other kind of stim packs, or maybe I should lie about eating all my recommended fruits and vegetables?" It was a laugh from Hunter this time, deep and hearty and genuine from his chest. 

"Are you?" Picking up a pre-moistened cleaning wipe from the little packet within the medkit, Hunter removed the sloppy wrappings around her dominant arm that [____] had applied before trying to call it a day and properly deal with everything in the morning. Dried smears of red lay underneath the gauze, something that made Hunter's gut drop slightly. Either she had done an uncharacteristically poor job cleaning her injuries, or these were more intensive than believed and they were slow-bleeders that hadn't scabbed over completely. 

"Tck…Can't say I'm any better than most of my patients, if I'm honest." Hunter hummed slightly, gingerly blotting along the length of the mild laceration. It had to have been an unpleasant injury after losing all her emergency supplies and nothing to ease it right away until she stumbled back to her ship. It looked fairly deep to him, but couldn't be certain. "Mmh! That stings." 

"'It's supposed to, little guy. Means it's working.' I swear Cross could have killed you with a look if the parasite wasn't actively killing him over being called a little guy like he was a kid." 

"Ha-ha. Very funny, Tech." [____] half-heartedly mocked Hunter's sharp recollection of their first encounter, trying to stifle a coming yawn. That time felt so long ago now; longer than it actually was. "I was only trying to keep him calm and comfortable. I see a lot of children at my clinic so it's a habit I've de-developed… excuse me, sorry about that. People… don't exactly love doctors." 

Hunter paused mid-blot, giving her a firm look to show her he was serious. Something in Hunter didn't like the way she'd said it, it didn't sit right with him. "Nonsense, cyar'ika. People love doctors; they just don't love going to them. Big difference. Trust me." Trust me like I trust you he wanted to say. He wouldn't. He believed it was mutually understood, no need for explicitly stating so (partly an old habit in thanks to how he communicated with many a vod during the war). "People…" Hunter tried further explaining, leaving out the "like us" he again believed didn't need to be said "...might be embarrassed, or fearful, or worried about going to the medic, but they understand they need to go because the medics will be able to make them better. They don't hate the doctor; they hate the doctor's office…" Hunter paused, digesting his own words with a questioning expression as he set aside the pre-moistened wipe, now soiled. "Now of course I think I just sound like I'm condescendingly explaining your own job to you." 

"Heh. Don't worry about it. Too tired to care," the weary medic offered with a reassuring smile, leaning into the backrest of the couch with a slowing blink-rate. "I'm just more concerned about staying awake, while I'm the patient for once, for you." 

For you. Something about it was unintentionally sweet to Hunter and made something within him flutter for a moment. That was happening a lot lately, every time he thought of her. He kept chalking it up to his enhancements and memories of the Kaminoans testing him and the others that remained of the experimental unit, the sharp sterility of antiseptic that lingered in her clinic and her clothing and her hair that sometimes turned his stomach, or simply a disconnected unfamiliarity with those who were not Clones… though, while perhaps he never felt truly connected with them and the way some called them the 'Sad Batch' (or called Omega a lab scabber) when they thought they could get away with it, they had still been his brothers in arms in the war.

A war they were still running from. One they nearly lost Crosshair to after 'things went screwy on Kaller' as Wrecker put it once. What an understatement… if Hunter hadn't been so insistent with the Shock Troopers down in the brig that the Batch stayed together to the point that they tased Hunter to shut him up instead of extracting Cross, then Crosshair likely would have been siphoned off to some corner of Tipoca City and had the activation of his inhibitor chip nudged along into unpleasant possibilities Hunter had nightmares about in addition to so many things he'd seen… done, during the Clone Wars. It'd been difficult, and he'd hated part of himself for it, but as they made their initial escape from Kamino, he threatened to stun Crosshair if he didn't kriffing shut up about following orders they didn't even understand for five minutes! so hard he wouldn't wake up until they reached the next star system. 

There had been so much bickering. They still bickered even after Captain Rex got in touch with them, somehow, after they left Saleucami visiting the Lawquane family (which had been tricky and Tech worked the loophole that Crosshair could not report Cut for desertion because it had been the GAR when he went AWOL and now it no longer existed, it was the Empire now, right? half to death before Crosshair reluctantly let it be), and they got their chips removed in the rusted out shell of a Venator on Bracca and had been lured into a trap set by Tarkin back on Kamino. Because if Tarkin could not have this SpecOps force, nobody in the galaxy could; he'd aimed to wipe them out and they'd narrowly avoided being swallowed in the eternal seas of the closest thing they had to a homeworld. 

It took a long time for the bickering to stop. They were at their throats for a while still until… Crosshair had gotten really, really sick. 

That's what led to this friendship with a medic who had been willing to help them nearly a year ago. Though lately, it was feeling… different.

"Hey…" [____] broke the building silence while Hunter had been searching for a bacta patch, and Hunter initially worried he'd done something to tip her off to the personal burdens, the memories, he shouldered. "...weird question for ya, if that's okay." 

"How weird?" Hunter tried, careful not to let the hesitancy and budding anxieties show in his voice. There's the karking things. He'd probably need a couple of them to make sure he had it covered so it would heal up nicely, quickly.

"Oh, not very. I just wanna pick your brain a bit." 

Ah. Just curiosity. He affixed the first patch over the first half of the laceration, careful not to prod the bruised flesh with unnecessary pressure. "Alright, pick away." 

"What is… your favorite memory? When you're having a bad day… what's the thing you think about that always cheers you up?"

"Heh… your day was really that bad that you're looking for advice from a soldier, doc?" Hunter teased, applying a second patch over the laceration. He wasn't sure what he could truthfully answer with while he was carefully measuring out a length of sterile gauze to hold the patches in place on her dominant arm, there being too many little, fleeting happy moments rather than significant memories to spin some story from. But he'd try. "I guess for me… it's less what I think of and more of what I do after a bad mission. Clean my gear. Tidy up my rack. Buff out my helmet-" 

The medic smirked, a solitary, quiet laugh interrupting Hunter's train of thought. 

Oh, Maker… he'd forgotten the suggestive context behind the phrase she often heard in the infancy of her profession in the midst of the Clone Wars. He'd heard she'd get the stray Clone on occasion at the large health center she was employed at once on a different planet but didn't know how much truth there was to it. "K'uur: that was not a euphemism." 

That was met with a nervous giggle that made his stomach flutter. "S-sorry; old habits, and a non-professional setting where I can actually laugh." [____] offered meekly, face flushing with color while he wound the wrapping around her forearm. "C-continue, Hunter, please. 'Buff out your helmet' and...?" The unspoken what else on her tongue was permission enough to show she was serious about him continuing. 

"And… check in with the others, I suppose. Make sure that everyone is okay. Spend time with them. Strengthen personal bonds."

A lot like what the two of them were doing now, he supposed. The unintentional check in. Taking care of her injuries while they sat side by side in the common room as the rest of the Batch were sleeping. Except maybe for Tech who often tinkered away on his datapad or the desk he'd squeezed into the room he shared with Wrecker (who wasn't bothered by a roommate with a propensity to dink around with some little gadget or piece of equipment when he was sleeping or resting) at these hours. Or Crosshair, who was often awake and asleep around the same times Hunter was, since they'd have muffled "conversations" through the walls when neither could sleep on occasion. But all was relatively still and quiet in each of his brother's rooms, and the steady rumble of the noise machine in Omega's room meant his sister was asleep. 

Drumming rain and swirling waves. The perpetual ambiance of Kamino. He hoped the little machine replicating the soundscape engrained in her memories wouldn't cause her to dream of the Venator class ships bombing the cloning facilities tonight… 

While Hunter had been lost in his senses, his worries, the medic had been busy mulling over his words. There was a ghost of a smile taking the place of the pained frown she previously bore. "That all sounds… really nice."

The last injury tended to, Hunter set everything aside and gave [____]'s shoulder a tender double-pat, feeling the tense muscles under his hand as he held his hand there after the friendly gesture. "There you go, ad'ika. All patched up." 

"Thanks, appreciate the help Hunter. Could I… trouble you a little further by crashing here for the night? I don't think I'm in a fit state to get back home around now. Far, far too tired." It was definitely not a safe time for a woman to be walking by herself without a blaster, nevermind a tired, injured woman who'd been an invaluable friend to Clone Force 99. He'd never have sent her home to begin with, giving how deeply her chin dipped into her chest with fatigue. "No trouble at all; you're welcome to take my bed, if you want." Hunter offered, giving her shoulder a friendly squeeze. He'd sleep out here in the common room so none of his brothers would get any funny ideas if both he and the medic emerged from the smallest of all the bedrooms in the housing together. 

Why the Sith's hells did he just think that?

[____] winced in mild complaint, laugh laced with pain. "Ow, that's quite a grip there, soldier!" 

"Sorry," he apologized, "didn't realize how hard it'd be. You carry a lot of stress and tension in your shoulders, ad'ika… I can feel how stiff your muscles are. I… have some experience with providing some relief for that, thanks to all the practice I've had with Wrecker and Tech. Tech's posture is a mess-" He rolled the palm of his hand against her shoulder experimentally, gauging the pliability of the tensest muscle, and she leaned into it eagerly with a whimpering 'oh, Maker…!' surprising even herself. Hunter decided he'd stubbornly pretend not to imagine how not-so-innocent the sound was, to keep talking about his brothers and ignore the heat in his lower belly, another flutter of his heart. "Tech spends hours hunched over his datapad, or some little gadget, or spends hours in those rigid crash seats in the Marauder with his muscles wound so tight he's practically locked in place. Wrecker takes such a beating each mission it's just… uh,"

"A w-way of taking care of him afterwards?" She helped him where he faultured. 

"Yeah. That's one part of it. Here, turn so I can get both shoulders." He had her melting under his touch quickly, the practically unhurried worship in this massage he was working into the medic's shoulders, neck, and the dominant arm. The muscles were so stiff and taut under her skin, under his ungloved hands. They were afraid to speak and break the reverence of this moment, the silent work of friend helping friend between each little involuntary sound of great relief or wince of brief pain as each tight, brow-bunching knot slowly surrendered. Her breathing pattern slowed as every minute elapsed between them beyond the gentle moans of relief as Hunter methodically kneaded the muscle free of tension with dexterous fingers. He wouldn't need to dig in so deeply like taking care of Wrecker's messes of well-defined muscle, for which he was grateful, to make any kind of progress, or go so tenderly to start with like he has to for Tech (on occasion) that the goggled Clone sometimes became a little impatient because he wasn't feeling any external relief. He could dip his fingers just a little deeper and just a little shallower, like those perpetual waves of Kamino replicated on Omega's sound machine, as he worked one muscle at a time for the unlikely friend who sat with him on the couch. 

It felt roughly the same to strengthening the bonds of the squad to Hunter, but again there was that fluttering in his heart that suggested this was so very different when he realized that when he moved back to [____]'s neck one last time, at her asking, and planted one of his palms on the opposite side of her face to keep her steadied as he dug little circles around the tight muscles under the base of her skull with his thumb that she took one last deep breath and was soon asleep in half a heart's beat between them. 

Hunter froze as he was, face hot in panic with the reality that he was now entirely supporting, for the moment, a female friend who was upright and asleep in his hands. Not knowing what to do just as the medic became more limp, he effectively locked himself in place when, on reflex, he caught her upper body against his before lowering it into his lap. A move he'd done a hundred times when one of the squad was this close to fainting out in the field.

Oh, you're kidding me… why the kriff did I do that?

[MASTERLIST] [NEXT]

#frostfics #Sorry Wrong Comms! #a typical Medic!Reader? it's more likely than you think #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #tbb x reader #tbb hunter #hunter tbb #tbb headcanons #sw tbb #star wars x reader #star wars au #x reader #star wars fan fiction #ummm what else should I tag this as? #the bad batch #tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb omega #tbb wrecker #tbb echo

[waynes-multiverse]

Labyrinth

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: A dangerous Wendigo hunt takes the Winchesters and their companion to an abandoned mine shaft and a maze of tunnels. Dean, on the other hand, not only has to find an exit in an underground cave system but also fights against his feelings for a young huntress as he battles through a labyrinth of thoughts and fears.

Warnings: a bit of language, angst, a trifecta of monsters, caves & earthquakes, canon-level violence, injuries & rebars, protective!Dean, idiots in love, silly jealousy, fluff

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Written as a request for @tieddown-withbattleshipchains​. Hope this scratches the itch! It turned out a little angstier because Wendigos scare the shit outta me, but there’s tons of fluff in between and certainly at the end! 🥰 Inspired by Labyrinth by Taylor Swift (Duh. What else? 😂) and my favorite horror flick The Descent. Enjoy!

Feedback is highly appreciated! Get me drunk on it and fill my writer’s juice 🤓🥃

Main Masterlist | Dean Winchster Masterlist

Have you ever loved someone so much that just being in their distanced proximity hurts your heart? Loved someone so much that every time they pass you by, their scent drives you mad, their voice gives you shivers, and your own words fail to come clean? So much that lunacy seems like sanity?

Well, Dean pretty much feels precisely like this, feels like he’s going slowly but surely insane as he trails behind Y/N through the woods of Montana. Every wind, even the tiniest breeze, wafts microscopic particles of her perfume into his nostrils, causing him to bite the insides of his cheeks harder, hoping the metallic taste will erase everything that is her. So far, not even the intense smell of pine helps, though. For the last half an hour, all he keeps thinking about is the huntress he’s known for years, wondering if he were able to taste the M&Ms she ate earlier in the car on her tongue once he would finally gather enough courage to kiss her – not that this fantasy would ever be maintainable in the first place.

It’s like a kid’s dream. Dean’s a rockstar, an astronaut, and a pilot all at once whenever he’s near her.

“I think we should be there in an hour,” Y/N muses and halts in her boots to check map and compass, Sam instantly joining her to take a look over her shoulder. “The mine shaft and the cave system are a few miles up the mountain. If we follow the trail along the river, it should lead us right there.”

“Sounds good. We still have enough daylight,” Sam agrees with a resolute nod and a look to the sky, where the sun is still standing high above their heads.

Dean, on the other hand, ignores the eerie feeling in his gut. Aware Y/N is a seasoned hunter with a superb skill set, he knows there’s no real reason for him to worry more than he should. She can handle herself; she always could. It’s a hunt like any other, one of many over the years. Hell, it’s not even the first Wendigo they’ve hunted together. There was another one three years back in Michigan. So truly, what’s different this time?

Right, his fucking feelings…

Y/N and Sam keep chatting as they cheerily march up the mountain, their breaths not even remotely labored, even though the climb is pretty steep. Apparently, going for a jog every morning pays off. Dean, however, stays quiet and trails behind them, green eyes observing their surroundings as he swallows the tiny bit of apprehension and jealousy down.

“You’re quiet today,” Y/N notes and purposely falls back to his speed as Sam wanders ahead – not before the younger Winchester shoots his older brother a secret look that says tell her, though. “You okay?”

The green-eyed hunter mirrors the small smile on her lips and nods, gulping, “Yeah, I’m fine, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” Y/N accepts with a slight pout, although she’s obviously far away from buying his lie. She licks her lips and adjusts the straps of her backpack on her shoulders. “So, uhm, after the hunt, I figured we could check out that bar across the motel?”

“Sounds good,” Dean agrees, his smile widening and cheeks blushing, even though it’s just the usual hunter invitation to celebrate the end of a case.

“Okay, great,” Y/N lets out a small breath of relief. Was she nervous to ask him? Why the hell would she be? “I actually have to tell you something, so I could use a little liquid courage.”

Dean’s brow furrows, his heart rate accelerating. “Liquid courage? For what? You know you can always tell me everything.”

“Not everything,” Y/N mumbles and averts her gaze to the trail ahead.

“C’mon, what is it?” Maybe it’s wishful thinking or sheer curiosity, but Dean can’t help it and hopes she feels the same way he does, although it sounds like complete insanity again. She’ll probably only confess that she’s been in love with Sam this whole time. He is the smarter choice, after all. Just look at that flawless mane of hair!

Y/N only shakes her head at him and hides a mischievous grin behind her lip bite. “Nuh-uh, forget it. Not drunk enough yet,” she says and then hops forward to join Sam again.

After an hour, the three hunters finally reach the mine shaft that leads to an intricate cave system – the perfect hideout for a monster. Eight women disappeared here last week, the location a popular hotspot for everyone who seeks thrills and adventures. Dean doesn’t count himself as one of those people. His life is adventurous enough as is. Frankly, he would’ve preferred pay-per-view at the motel over this hellish trip.  

Equipped with flashlights, the three carefully stalk inside. It’s incredibly dark and humid, low growls echoing off the stony, muddy walls, so the hunters know they’ve found the right place. The monster is definitely here, even though it still sounds miles away, which isn’t ideal. It only means they have to venture further in, and Dean already hates this with every fiber of his goddamn being. Caves are not exactly his favorite hunting grounds. Y/N, however, seems as fearless as ever, and Dean can’t help but admire her endless bravery. Obviously, she’s so out of his league it’s not even a little bit funny.

“Did you guys hear that?” Y/N stops in her tracks, her ears perked as she surveys the array of noises that bleed through.

“Woman’s voice?” Dean checks, although he’s sure all three of them can hear the faint screams and whimpers.

“One of ‘em is still alive, apparently,” Sam muses, concern and sympathy etched into his brow.

“I think it’s coming from here,” Y/N says and holds her ear to a small cave opening in the wall – if you can even call it that, the entrance as big as a cartoonish mouse hole.

“We can’t fit in there. We need to find another way around it,” Sam informs them and pulls out the cave map they’ve received from a park ranger.

“You guys can’t fit in there.”

“What?!” Dean’s head snaps to Y/N as soon as those words leave her mouth, seeing the gears turning in her head.

“I’m small… unlike my broad-shouldered friends. I can fit,” she shrugs casually as if it wasn’t the craziest suggestion she’d ever made.

“Mm-mm, no. You’re not squeezing through a small tunnel with a monster waiting for you on the other side, Y/N,” Dean tells her sternly, only one sharp tone away from making it a full-on order.

“Dean, she might be dead by the time we get there. I can do this,” Y/N assures him. “This isn’t my first Wendigo, you know?”

As Dean glances at Sam for some support, surely convinced his little brother would come to the same conclusion, the green-eyed hunter soon notices Sam’s suspicious silence on the subject matter and frowns. So much for brotherly support…

“Dean, it might be the only way to save that girl,” Sam agrees. Of course, the gentle giant does.

“Alright, so we all agree,” Y/N smiles and throws her backpack on the ground, pulling out a few flares, a machete, and a lighter.

“No, we don’t,” Dean shakes his head vehemently. “I don’t agree. Not at all. Very much disagree with this plan, in fact.”

“Okay, noted. It’s still two against one, so sorry. Guess you’re losing this one, De,” Y/N says simply and then puts the flashlight into her mouth, proceeding to crawl through the narrow opening.

Dean’s close to grabbing her ankles and pulling her back out, not caring about any surefire protests on her part and the huntress’s wrath as his heart pounds so harshly and loudly against his ribs it almost sounds like a Neil Peart drum solo in his chest.

“Y/N, you still okay?” Dean checks after a minute when the soles of her shoes have disappeared from his sight. As he shines his flashlight into the tunnel, he recognizes her a few feet ahead. “I don’t like this,” he tells Sam, chewing roughly on his plump bottom lip while his brow is in a constant crinkle.

“Me neither, but it’s the only choice we have, Dean,” Sam counters and focuses back on the map in his hands.

“Oh, is it?!” Dean mocks in sheer sibling annoyance. “You better find out where that tunnel leads and how we can fucking get there,” he barks as the anxiety claims his lungs. “Fast.”

“Already on it,” Sam assures him.

Dean’s heart only gets a single second free of concern, though, before Y/N’s voice rings every alarm bell in his goddamn head.

“Guys? There’s something wrong here. And there’s definitely blood and… stuff in this tunnel,” Y/N informs them, her voice barely audible the farther she gets. “It’s really gross…”

“Okay, Y/N, just get back out here. We’ll find another way,” Dean orders her, his flashlight and eyes unable to see her as he peers into the hole again. Her sweet voice is all he has left now.

“I-I don’t think I can move back out, De,” she says, her tone laced with slight panic now. “This thing is kinda tight. Kinda like… You know what? Never mind.” Dean knows she attempted a dirty joke there, one he certainly would’ve appreciated if he wasn’t currently fearing for her life. “I can only go forward. Just meet me at the end, okay?”

Quite panicked himself at this point, the green-eyed hunter turns back to his brother, “You found it yet?”

“Uh, yeah, I think it’s that way,” Sam muses and points at one of three tunnel options ahead.

“You think or you know, Sam?!”

And because misery loves company, at this exact moment, the ground, the walls, the ceiling all suddenly begin to violently shake and tremble, small pieces of stone and dirt coming loose. There’s a “shit” echoing through Y/N’s tunnel that reaches the hunter’s ears before more rumblings follow, more stones fall, and the tunnel closes completely and cuts the huntress off from the brothers.

“Was that a fucking earthquake?” Dean tries to shield his head from falling debris and coughs the dirt from his lungs before frantically checking the small tunnel for proof of life, but all he can see is dirt, dust, and more stones. “Y/N? Y/N! Are you alright, sweetheart? FUCK!”

“Dean, c’mon, we’ll find her,” Sam soothes and heads for the far left tunnel opening.

“Why is there a fucking earthquake in Montana? It’s not freaking California,” Dean huffs as he stomps behind his little brother, hoping the huntress is still alive and not hurt too badly as he speeds up his strides. Either she’s been crushed to death, or a monster will munch on her, and needless to say, neither option is acceptable to him.  

“Actually, Montana has seven to ten every day, which makes it the fourth most seismically active state,” Sam shares his National Geographic knowledge nonchalantly, earning him an angry scowl from the green-eyed hunter.

Yeah, guess what – Dean’s not super interested in random nerd facts right now.

There’s a loud scream that echoes through the cave system, and for an agonizing heartbeat, Dean halts in his boots as he recognizes the voice. No doubt it’s Y/N’s, and his feet set into motion and start running, following the noises of struggle as he rounds corner after corner, blindly running into different tunnels as Sam tries to keep up with him.

The maze of cave tunnels feels as familiar as his mind, a labyrinth of unknown paths that lead him to different options. But the green-eyed hunter doesn’t need a map anymore; he knows exactly where to find her without wasting a single thought on it. His heart is still the best navigation system.

There’s a flicker of red light at the end of his path, and Dean knows Y/N is close. There are growls and hisses before he hears the huntress desperately call his name – his and not Sam’s. It definitely shouldn’t warm his heart the way it does, especially in a life-or-death situation like this, but Dean literally can’t help the slight relief and happiness he feels in his chest over that fact, although he probably shouldn’t read too much into it.

Y/N’s brightly burning flare comes into view first before his emerald eyes spot the huntress on the ground and then the monster. She’s fending off the Wendigo as best as she can, keeping it at bay as she waves her flare in the air like a weapon, but Dean notices soon enough that she can’t move much and is hurt badly.

The older hunter quickly grabs the hairspray, pushes down on the dispenser, and lights the aerosol mist of chemicals on fire with his lighter – Y/N’s genius idea for a weapon, which she came up with in the motel room before their hunt. The flames shoot out and set the monstrous bastard on fire while Sam aims the flamethrower and incinerates the monster for good. Tarantino style, as Dean likes to call it. Unfortunately, he lost the round of Rock, Paper, Scissors over the glorious weapon to his younger brother, but truthfully, the hairspray was still satisfying enough.

As the monster turns to ash, Sam runs to the half-alive victim tied to a pole while Dean rushes to the huntress’s side. He cups her cheeks as she winces, inspecting her whole body and assessing her for injuries when he notices the small piece of rebar stuck in the side of her stomach, blood oozing out around the metal and pooling underneath her body.

“Ow, shit,” Y/N hisses and tries to wiggle, hand curling around his bicep. Dean’s hands quickly steady her before she accidentally drives the damn thing even deeper into her body.

“Shhh, don’t move, sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay, alright?” Dean assures her, although he’s frankly not sure if his calming words are more for his sake than hers. “Just breathe in and breathe out... There you go.”

“I-I don’t… I’m, uhm…,” Y/N trails off, her eyelids fighting to stay open, and his heart only begins to hammer louder in his ribcage, drumming in his ears.

“Y/N? Y/N, stay awake for me, okay?” But her eyes close for good, her palm lifelessly dropping from his arm to the ground. “SAM!”

“Dean, you can’t keep staring at her,” Sam reminds him, his voice only faintly audible behind the green-eyed hunter as his mind solely focuses on Y/N’s unconscious body in the motel room bed. “She’s gonna be creeped out when she wakes up.”

“Shut up,” Dean grumbles and hears Sam’s sigh of frustration and resignation.

“Alright, Twilight. I’ll grab more stuff from the pharmacy. She’s gonna need it,” Sam announces, hand reaching for the doorknob. “Be back in a few.”

As the door of the small motel room closes, Dean lets his head fall between his knees as he sits on the chair next to her bed, the tension still very much prominent in his shoulders and neck, although she should be in the clear by now. It certainly has been touch-and-go for a while, Y/N drifting in and out of consciousness, passing out from the pain as the brothers carefully removed the sharp piece of metal from her lower abdomen and stitched her up. Sam even had to send the older Winchester for a calming drive in the Impala while the younger one tended to her injuries, not being able to work with Dean’s constant yelling in his ears. The green-eyed hunter had surely been close to a breakdown. Luckily, they could forgo the hospital this time, the rebar not piercing through any serious organs and rupturing a spleen or a kidney.

His green eyes drift to her sleeping form. She seems a lot better now, some pinkish color having returned to her cheeks. Y/N always scares him, usually because she’s so much smarter and tougher than him, and every time he tried to order her around in the past always backfired, with her almost biting his whole head off. This time, though, she terrified him in a completely different way. She was pale, white as a sheet in his arms as he rushed her down the mountain. He swears he’s never run faster in his life. Even Sam, the professional jogger and marathon runner, could barely keep up, and Dean still feels the aching blisters from his boots whenever he shuffles on his feet too much.

“What would I have done if you died, huh?” the hunter mutters under his breath to no one in particular, knowing she’s dead asleep, and screws open the cap of his flask, taking a big gulp of whiskey, letting the burning liquid numb his throat. “You know if I lost you…” Another sip keeps the pricking tears in his green orbs at bay while his mind is battling a breakthrough. “I-I just… I can’t do that, you know? Probably would take me my whole life to get over you. I know you don’t know that, but you’re really important to me, y’know? I mean, hell, you can’t hear me anyways, so I might actually admit it for once,” he sighs at his own stupidity, fingers tapping against the silver flask. “I’ve been in love with you, Y/N… for a while, actually. At least, I think that’s what all those icky twinges in my chest are. Doesn’t feel like heartburn, like after eating a cheeseburger... I mean, they’re pretty much only there whenever you’re around, so that’s gotta be it, right? Love. Not like I have a lot of experience with that… I mean, not that I’m a virgin. I’ve had sex, you know? I just… I’ve never done the feelings thing. At least not well, I guess. So, in that case, you could probably say I’m a feelings virgin…”

Dean then groans loudly and lets his head drop into his palms, rubbing a hand across his freckled face. “Jesus fucking Christ, fuck me. God, I sound like an idiot… Thank God you can’t hear me. This is like the worst trial run ever… I mean, not like I would actually ever have enough courage to tell you all that shit while you’re actually awake, you know? I’m kinda a coward when it comes to that stuff. I mean, let’s be honest here for a second, you don’t care about me, right? You probably have the hots for Sammy. Can’t really blame you. You know, I’m not a girl, but I get it. Sometimes I’d like to tug on that hair too, so…”

And that’s when Dean’s muscles suddenly stiffen, his cheeks draining all color as he notices Y/N’s whole body quaking. His heart stops as he hears the first few snorts that slowly morph into a giggle and then into a full-on laugh.

Shit…

“Are you fucking awake?!”

Y/N pops one eye open at first, carefully checking the extent of his angered shock before she dares to pry open the second one, a mischievous twinkle gleaming in her orbs and an amused smile shaping on her pink lips.

“Okay… How much did you hear?”

Y/N shrugs her shoulders as much as she can and chuckles, “Well, pretty much… all of it.”

Dean scoffs, shaking his head as the tips of his ears turn beet red in shame. “What kinda psycho bitch pretends to be asleep while a man pours his heart out, huh? You know, I thought you were practically fucking dead!”

Y/N snorts and rolls her eyes. “You did not. And I think you mean, ‘What kinda psycho bitch pretends to be asleep while an idiot pours his heart out?’”

“Okay, haha, funny,” Dean huffs and chugs his flask. Is it too late to go back to that cave and hope the Wendigo eats him? “Can we just pretend this never happened before Sam gets back, please?”

Y/N responds with a casual twitch of her shoulders as she props herself up on the mattress. “I mean, sure… If that’s what you want.”

“Yeah, that’s what I want, okay?” Dean affirms, nodding. “Don’t want shit to be awkward between us from now on, you know?”

“Yeah, no, I totally get it,” Y/N agrees. “I mean, it would be pretty awkward for you if I didn’t feel the same way about you, which I do.”

“Yeah, see? Glad you get it,” the hunter huffs before his head snaps to her, green eyes widening and growing to the size of the moon. “Wait, what?!”

Y/N’s laughter then fills the motel room, but he can barely hear it over his own pounding heartbeat. Did she just say what he thinks she said? No, right? He heard that wrong. Jesus fuck, he better not make an even bigger fool out of himself.

“You’re cute,” Y/N tells him then and starts chewing on her lower lip.

Dean swallows thickly. “What, uh, what does that mean?”

“Jesus, you really are a feelings virgin,” she snorts another laugh and winces, all the giggles hurting her freshly stitched wound. Good, Dean thinks. She surely deserves that pain.

His cheeks heat up as he awkwardly clears his throat. “Wha-, uh… Let’s not make that a thing, okay? Please?”

“Oh, it’s totally gonna be a thing,” Y/N teases, chuckling.

“Great, mhm…” God, someone help him.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Hm, yeah?”

Y/N doesn’t say anything more – all he feels then is her soft lips pressing against his. The tension finally dissipates from his shoulders, his muscles relaxing as he leans into the kiss, his heart thumping wildly in his chest before it drops between his boots. He breathes her in, breathes into the kiss as her tongue slyly sneaks into his mouth and deepens the overwhelming passion as his head becomes dizzier the longer it lasts.

As he fervently kisses her back, he has finally found the right exit and leaves the labyrinth of his mind behind him. He’s on the right path, and it’s goddamn better than his imagination.

A few more one-shots are coming your way this week, so stay tuned, my loves, and let me know if you enjoyed this fic 🥰🖤

Everything Jensen Tags: @extraterrestriali​ @this-is-me19​ @writercole​ @awkward-and-indecisive​ @eevvvaa​ @panicking-outside-the-disco​ @globetrotter28​ @imherefordeanandbones​ @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior​ @xlynnbbyx​ @jassackles​ @maggiegirl17​ @perpetualabsurdity​ @deans-spinster-witch​ @deandreamernp​ @foxyjwls007​ @roseblue373​​ @lyarr24​​ @deanwanddamons​​ @deanwithscissors​​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​​ @justrealizedimmascifygurl​​ @akshi8278​​ @flamencodiva​​ @chriszgirl92​��� @lhymer1995 @wittyboldsoul​​ @djs8891​​ @leigh70​​ @snowlovespie​​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​​ @recoveringpastaaddict @ladysparkles78​​ @muhahaha303​​ @mimaria420​​ @creepzeyecandy​​

Dean Tags: @parinarain​​ @hobby27​​ @fromcaintodean​​

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #writing request #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester reader insert #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst

[snaililita]

♠️♥️《《°•~ WARNINGS ~•°》》♥️♠️

The following work will include name calling, wishing harm onto others, wishing others to inflict harm upon themselves, mass spamming, targeted harassment, social media spamming, eluding to struggles with stress vomiting, Lyney sharing similar experiences, trauma (mostly on Lyney's part) bonding, and sorta vague mentions of past attempts at su!c!de. If any of these things may trigger you, please do not proceed.

♠️-Lyney with a reader who is being spammed on social media by old friends of theirs wishing harm upon them-♠️

♥️《《STORY IS SET IN......MODERN AU_》》♥️

♠️》》STORY IS......NOT PROOF READ_《《♠️

♥️《《STORY IS......ANGST TO COMFORT/FLUFF》》♥️

I myself have been getting spammed in my dms by an old friend of mine who just will not leave me alone and keeps coming in with alts T-T This is a way for me to cope.... I tried to keep reader as gn as possible! Please tell me if I made a mistake T-T

Your hands were shaking as you read the previews of the messages on the screen of your phone. You didn't even want to click on them.

'You dumb ass fucking wh... '

'Go suck a cock you whine...'

'Quit being such an attent... '

The little number icons on the apps kept getting bigger as the notification sound on your phone kept going off.

'Bling! Bling! Bling! BlingBlingBlingBlingBling!'

You wanted to chuck your phone outside. The noise was terrible. You never thought you it would make you feel so sick to your stomach.

(('Why are they dog piling me??? What did I do???'))

You thought to yourself,

(('A-Attention seeker? Whore?? Faker?'))

More and more foul words piled up on the screen, one after another. Tears welled up in your eyes as your hands shook. The keychain you so lovingly clipped to your phone clicked up against it's case.

The halls of your school were empty at the moment, but it felt more stressful than it ever had when it was full right now. The only sounds you could hear were the sounds of your twitter getting spammed, you snap getting spammed, your youtube, your tumblr, your instagram, your discord-

'Bling! BlingBling! Bling! BlingBlingBlingBling!'

'LISTEN HEAR YOU CUN...'

'With all due respect you ...'

'GO DIE IN A FUCKING H...'

'Nobody wants to talk to ...'

'Just take a swan dive off...'

(("Hey is everything alright?"))

One of the exchange students... you could tell by his heavy accent. His name was Lyney, right? He came from France with his siblings a few months back. You guys talked from time to time, you were never really close enough to be considered friends though. You must've not noticed him approaching because of your tunnel visioning.

(("Y-Yeah. I'll be fine, thanks."))

You lied. He wasn't your friend so you shouldn't bother him with your issues. He saw right through you though.

(("If it were nothing would you be crying?"))

Your phone went off again, this time your pinterest. The sounds began to flood your ears again.

(("I'm just fine really! It's no big deal."))

You reasoned, you didn't need to drag someone who hardly knew you into your personal problems. It was none of his responsibility.

(("Someone is spamming your social media accounts, correct? Perhaps... a group of people you used to associate with?"))

You gulped, were you really that easy to read??

(("It's only an educated guess though! I promise I'm not stalking your accounts or anything-"))

Lyney fumbled, his face grew a light pink out of embarrassment.

(("Don't worry it's fine. And yeah, you're right. But it's fine! I can just block them and move on."))

The blonde frowned, his lavender eyes filled with almost a sort of sympathy or empathy. You weren't sure.

(("That doesn't mean the damage hasn't been done. I'm sure no matter what you may had done it shouldn't warrant... well... that."))

He referred to the constant pinging of your phone, gesturing to the device in your hand. Nervously you hid it behind you back, sweat forming on your brow.

(("It's fine really Lyney! I'm fine."))

You smiled nervously and shifted, that feeling of anxiety in your stomach only bubbling worse and worse. It felt like you were going to throw up again.

(("I suppose I shouldn't press it out of you, but if you ever need someone to talk to I'll always be here, okay? Even if it takes some time, I'll still wait."))

Silence settled in, even the sounds from your phone began to cease for a moment. The two of you simply stood there for a while in an awkward quietness. You began to process what he said.

Was this a joke? Was this a cruel prank sent to you by one of your old friends? Was this supposed to be more punishment for a crime you weren't even aware that you committed?

Tears began to bubble up at the rims of your eyes again and pour over, like a child's toy tea cup being filled beyond capacity. Sobs began to softly shake your chest, you were so done with all of this.

These people surrounding you calling you toxic, saying you were over stepping boundaries they never even set, yelling at you no matter how many times you apologise, saying they will stay with you no matter what then running away when your true self becomes too much for them to bare. You wanted to know what was so wrong with you so you could stop pushing people to this point unknowingly. You wanted them to tell you want you did wrong. You were sick of not knowing how to stop any of this.

A pair of warm arms embraced you, pulling you into a soft hug. Surprise filled your eyes as Lyney began to stroke the back of your head gently. You felt a lack of malice behind his intentions, only a genuine want to help. But you were still scared. Scared that maybe you would become close then push him away somehow too.

(("There's nothing wrong with you. You're just yourself and not what they wanted you to be. That's a feeling I know all too well."))

He began,

(("But if they aren't willing to accept you for who you really are, then they were never friends with you in the first place."

You furrowed your brows, something didn't make sense.

(("H-How did you know who was spamming me and why?"))

Lyney sweat dropped, breaking the hug to awkwardly scratch the back of his head.

(("I overheard them planning to spam you at cheer practice... that blonde guy with glasses isn't very good at keeping his voice quiet."))

You tilted your head in confusion,

(("Why come find me to comfort me though?"))

Lyney opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. Shutting it again, he furrowed his own brows in thought, piecing together a sentence in his head.

(("Whenever something bad like this happens to me, it sucks to only be surrounded by negative thoughts and it easy to spiral. Only hearing bad things about yourself, you began to believe them. When you hear someone tell you to do something over and over, you feel inclined to do it and sometimes... you actually... do... do it."))

(("You mean you-?"))

(("Yeah. I'm glad it failed though."))

You and Lyney sat in the hallway infront of your locker for a long while, not speaking very much. You two went from practically strangers to knowing some very personal stuff about one another in the span of about 10 minutes so it was a lot to process. The blonde spoke up again though.

(("If you ever have thoughts like that... maybe call me instead? I'd hate if I lost a classmate to that."))

You nodded as Lyney opened his phone to show you his number. You began to type it to your contacts as more notifications flooded you screen again. Lyney's eyebrows furrowed as he read the previews of them in disgust.

(("Such primitive language."))

He said, clicking his tongue in distaste. You simply swiped them off your screen as quickly as you could each time.

(("Do you like cats?"))

You asked,

(("Hm? Yes my sister and I love them! We actually own a few! Mine is named Rosseland."))

He replied enthusiastically. With a smirk you set his contact photo to a picture of a cat that just tasted broccoli much to his dismay.

(("Why such an atrocious image?? Is that what you think of me? Is my fashion that outlandish??"))

You shook your head,

(("That's the face you made when you saw the messages they sent me."))

Lyney sighed dramatically,

(("At least save me with a decent name!"))

Much to his horror though, when he looked down he saw you had saved him as "flagrant cat man" as you snickered obnoxiously.

(("Oh come on! Fine I shall name you something JUST as distasteful!"))

Looking at your phone number he furiously typed it in. A few moments had passed and he then asked you a question.

(("Do you also like cats?"))

You gave an "mhm" in response as he snickered evily. Flipping his phone around proudly, you were saved as "Impolite Feline of Dookishburg" with an image of a bawling cat.

(("Uhhh why that image?"))

You asked, perplexed.

(("Why that was the face you were making earlier of course!"))

He teased,

(("Is my crying face really that ugly!!))

He nodded dramatically with a sigh,

(("I daresay it is comparable to that of a banshee's tear stained face!"))

You playfully smacked his arm as you two began to laugh merrily. Perhaps things were going to get better. Maybe you shouldn't worry about those jerks anymore, after all, you found a real friend in the young man sitting next to you. Things aren't going to get better immediately, but that doesn't mean they won't ever get better. In times these, you can only press forward, but now you feel comfort in knowing you won't be alone.

(("Hey, do you wanna meet my sister and brother?"))

(("Sure!"))

#lyney x reader #genshin lyney #lyney #soft lyney #adelita writes #lyney comfort #lyney angst #lyney fluff

[mandoalorian]

Borrowed Time [Din Djarin x F!Reader]

♡˳‧₊*: • Chapter 11: The Abduction ✩࿐ ˚.✧

Summary: You are the princess of Mandalore, held hostage on your own planet by Moff Gideon and his army of Imperial troopers. Left with no choice, you send out a distress signal; a plea for protection— and who comes? None other than Din Djarin, a foundling of The Death Watch. He, by creed, is your sworn enemy. And where you have asked for his protection, he has been told by his mentor that he must marry you and gain the ability to restore Mandalore to its former glory.

Word count: 4000

Warnings: lots of angst, canon typical violence, sexual references

Author’s note: this chapter is very special to me. I’ve been working on it for two and a half months, changing things and perfecting it to the way I want it to read. I feel like a lot is answered in this chapter and I’m excited to share it with you all. If you enjoy, please reblog! It would mean the most to me. 

Series Masterlist

Din didn’t come to bed that night.

Your body missed the familiarity of his warm, strong arms wrapped around you, holding you tight against his chest in his bed that was made for one. After an unsettling lack of sleep, accompanied by plenty of tossing, turning, and unconscious mumbling, you got up to grab a glass of water from the refresher. It was a ritual that you had become all too comfortable with; after all, the tin bed on the Razor Crest was a lot more different to your soft chambers back home. You craved for the moment you could return to your palace on Mandalore. It would be the perfect place to bring up Grogu. There would be so much space for him to play about, and Din would like it too. There was no better place to learn about his Creed and culture than Mandalore itself. Since marrying Din, there was no other person you could imagine rebuilding Mandalore with. He’d stay by your side and continue to act as your protector; your soulmate.

Nursing your cool drink, spheres of ice clinking against the glass, you lightly padded around the ship's hull, looking for your husband in the dark. You noted that Grogu was fast asleep in his hover pram, and you tucked him in under his favourite crochet blanket that you’d purchased for him back at the market on Nevarro. You were thankful that Din had at least put him to bed. You often expressed your dismay towards your husband when he let the little green bean fall asleep in the cockpit. Din was extremely trusting of the child; after all, he was just a baby and with his curiosity, you had no doubt that Grogu would one day give in to his urges and fiddle on with all the bright flashing buttons and levers. You were certain that Grogu would one day learn to be a great pilot like his father, but he was too young for that right now.

You sauntered into the cockpit expecting to find Din sleeping in the pilot seat but were instead greeted by an uneasy feeling when he wasn’t there. Despite the darkness both inside the ship and outside the main bay window, you’d noticed that Din had found a safe place to land the ship, in, what appeared to be a spice mine on your home planet. The mines ran deep and there was no real way of seeing an end to the tunnel, at least not from where you were standing.

There was only one other place in the Razor Crest in which you hadn’t checked, and that was the armoury. Climbing carefully down the steel ladders that led into the base of the ship, quietly as to not wake the sleeping child, you dropped into the repository to find Din, sitting on a stool with his legs spread, nursing his rifle with a cloth and some polishing fluid.

You instantly felt a rush of relief, knowing that he hadn’t disappeared or abandoned you through the night. Din acknowledged you were there, standing there before him in the dimly lit room, but didn’t look up or even address you. His gloved hands clasped around the barrel of the gun and he continued rubbing at it with smooth, slick motions, getting rid of oil stains and whatnot.

“Hi,” you said quietly, crossing your arms over your chest. He had you feeling vulnerable and small. “You didn’t come to bed.”

“Wasn’t tired.” His reply was short and monotone, not an ounce of emotion dripping from his tongue. It was only you and Grogu on the ship, in the middle of the night, and yet Din had still opted to wear his helm, masking his emotions… to him, it was better that way.

“Like you said earlier, we have a big day tomorrow. You should really rest.” You advised him softly. You wanted to beg him. Plead with him. Please, please come to bed.

There was a beat of silence followed by a grunt.

“Din?” your voice was timid. I miss you.

You walked towards your husband and took the pulse rifle from his hands. He let you with ease, not thinking twice to fight you on it, and watched as you lifted the heavy arsenal, placing it back on the rack where it belonged. As you hung it up, you glanced around the armoury. This was the first time you realised just how many weapons, bombs, and detonators Din owned. For a second, you must have forgotten that he was a bounty hunter before he was anything else, and really, you had just been one of his missions. You wondered if the Armorer had deliberately selected Din to rescue you because he was used to capturing quarry. You briefly wondered how different all of this would have been if the likes of Paz Viszla had come to rescue you instead.

If the stock wasn’t enough to remind you, the carbonite freezer at the back of the ship was certainly enough to refresh your memory. There was more than enough on the ship to take down an Imperial army, you believed that much. Still, imagining your sweet Din using an Imperial carbonite freezer proved to be difficult.

You turned back around to face him and noticed he’d been staring at you the entire time. Then, you offered him your hand.

Din faltered before he pulled off his glove which was now wet with dirt and rust and acidic cleaning gel. He dropped it to the floor and interlaced his fingers with yours. His hands were warm but rougher than the rest of his body, his fingers calloused and knuckles bruised.

You stepped closer to him, pressing your chest against his and extending your arm, cupping his helmet with your hand. 

“If you’re not tired… maybe I can help with that?” You offered him a suggestive smirk, looking up at him with wide, doe-like eyes.

It took every ounce of willpower for Din to not cave.

“Not tonight.” He replied and dropped your hand.

You stood there blankly, absorbed in the pressure of his rejection. Din couldn’t bear to look at you anymore, guilt inside him eating him alive, and so instead he opted to spin around and check over his armoury one more time. He just needed something, anything, to distract him from you. He just had to get through tonight, and then whatever fate tomorrow had to offer him, and then it would all be over. You wouldn’t want his burden once you reclaimed Mandalore anyway, he was certain of that.

It all felt so fake to him. Of course, he loved you, but this marriage wasn’t going to last after today’s battle. He knew that. You were Mandalorian royalty and he was justa bounty hunter.

You watched him momentarily as he began to reload his pistols with blaster bolts. 

Shaking off the feeling of rejection, you knew you had to confront him. It was now or never.

“Din… you’re acting distant. Did something happen? This isn’t like you.” You said softly. You placed a hand on Din’s pauldron gently, almost cautiously. Another silly attempt at unrequited intimacy.

Din scoffed and took a step back from you, breaking the distance. If only you had just waited this out, then he’d never have to engage in this conversation with you.

“What do you know about me, really?” he asked, venom in his question, regretting the words as soon as they left his lips. He saw your expression fall and his heart sank in his chest. Din didn’t mean to sound so agitated, that wasn’t his intention at all. He faltered before continuing. “It’s not like we married because we were in love.”

He was right, in a way, but the revelation knocked you sick. What exactly was he inferring? Why, for once, could he not just be direct with his words – say what he really means? Your heart felt heavy and it ached, not like it was breaking, but more so like he’d put this extreme pressure on it. Like his words bore the weight of a thousand bars of beskar. Was this his way of telling you that he regretted the marriage? That he wasn’t actually in love with you? Your worst fears had been realised and you felt nothing less than sheer humiliation that you, a princess, one of the bravest and strongest leaders Mandalore had ever seen, was now standing before the man you’d sworn true love to.

A foolish mistake that ultimately was your downfall, and nobody was to blame but yourself.

You didn’t reply to him. Your hurt was blinded by rage as he’d led you on all this time. Led you to believe that the feeling was mutual. You didn’t understand… he had been so kind to you, and so gentle. This whole thing had been a façade, you knew that now. He was a bounty hunter after all, and you were just a job to him. A duty. A liability.

Your face hardened and you stormed past Din, clicking opening the armoury and taking the rifle he had just polished; the rifle that you struggled to pick up but what he had lifted with so much ease. You took one of his belts, bandoliers and holsters, filling them with blaster ammunition and attaching emergency detonators. Grabbing everything you could, you spun around on your heel and began climbing back up the ladders, leaving in the dust.

“Hey,” Din stood up, his modulated voice deep with concern. You were already at the top by the time Din reached the bottom of the ladders. He called your name. “What are you doing? Where are you going?”

You walked past Grogu who was still fast asleep and pressed a small kiss goodbye atop his forehead. “Take care, little one.”

Din sighed and began climbing up the ladders, and you acknowledged his footsteps getting louder and louder as he neared you. You opened the door to the Razor Crest and took a deep breath, inhaling the cool crisp air of the outdoors. It looked like it would be a long journey out of this mine, but thankfully Mandalore was your home and you knew it like the back of your hand. You had more of a solid chance navigating this planet than Din did anyway. Your name echoed throughout the walls and knowing Din was on your tail, you hopped of the ship you had called your home and started to run.

By the time Din had reached the hull, you were gone, nowhere in sight.

He yelled your name, panic filling his body as he checked his quarters, the refresher, the cockpit… everywhere. All of Din’s yelling had awoken the child who had started crying with distress. Din cursed when he realised you were no longer on the ship and bolted back to the armoury, jumping back down the ladders and grabbing everything in sight. Guns, stim canisters, his vibroblade. Had you really been so foolish as to walk straight into an Imperial warzone?

After about fifteen minutes of running straight, you finally saw an end to the tunnel. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, but there was no time to catch your breath. As approached the entrance to the mine, the skyline entered your view and your entire body deflated. Imperial ships… dozens of them ahead of you. With your fingers dipped into your holster, inches away from your blaster, you ducked out of sight from them and made your way to the destroyed palace you once called your home.

Decaying bodies curled up on every corner and you swore that the image of them would haunt you forever. They had been there since the attack on Mandalore weeks ago and nobody had come back for them. They didn’t even get a proper burial. Your lips curled into a deep frown as you headed further towards the palace. These were your people and as you whispered a solemn prayer you swore that they’d get justice if it was the last thing you could do. You wouldn’t let the Empire win. Stormtroopers were easy to avoid, but it was the hovering TIES in the sky that you were more worried most about. You made it to the back gate of the palace and the collapsed fountain was now in your line of vision. Although the marble statutes adorning the fountain had been decapitated and destroyed, the secret hatch behind the wall appeared to be intact. The Imperials had yet to discover the hatch that led into the Merenzane Gold brewery in the cellar. During the Clone Wars, your mother would trade Merenzane Gold to a pirate queen who owed a bar on Takodana, in exchange for beskar steel. The brewery had been out of business for some years, but further into the cellar, was your mother's Forge, which just so happened to be one of Mandalore’s very first Forges. 

You rarely ventured down here even when you lived in the palace, for you had no reason to, but now you felt inclined to check on the Forge. It held so much of Mandalore’s history, you prayed it hadn’t been touched by the Imperials.

To your earnest gratitude, the Forge appeared untouched, and a pang of your heartstrings struck you as you ventured deeper into the gallery. The walls were dotted with beskar spears, weaponry that had been created but never used. The forge itself had been collecting dust, last lit when your mother was still alive. Wedged into the dip of the pit was a piece of paper, folded up into a small square. The corners had been burnt but as you opened it up, you discovered the words scrawled in ink were still intact.

It was a letter, addressed to your mother.

My dearest Satine,

I hope that this letter does not alert you and that my sudden need to contact you comes as no surprise. Two weeks ago, we parted ways on Mandalore, and I swore an oath to the Order that I would cease all contact with you, for the sake of my own commitment to the Jedi, as well as your commitment to Mandalore. This letter disregards my vow but I feel as though it is my obligation as your friend a Jedi, to inform you of my findings on Mandalore’s moon, Concordia. 

Anakin and I have just left Concordia’s capitol, and I am afraid to say that a number of mining facilities have destroyed the forests, although I am sure you have already been made aware of this. Our intel suggests that the governor, Pre Vizsla of House Vizsla has been secretly leading the Mandalorian terrorist group, Kyr’tsad (translated to Death Watch), in these mining facilities and plan on opposing your government regime. They want to claim Mandalore as their own. Not only that but we discovered evidence to suggest that they are recruiting children, Mandalorian foundlings, to fight for their cause.

Satine, you have always been so gentle, and I do not regret the custom you showed me both in public and in private. Not a day has gone by where I haven’t pondered on those forbidden moments that we shared, and had things been different, I’d like to believe I could stay with you on Mandalore. I’d serve as your protector by choice, rather than duty.

Consider this letter a formality and do not feel the necessity to respond but please, be safe out there. I will always be here for you.

May the force be with you, Satine.

General Kenobi.

Ben.

Your heart sank in your chest. It was a warning letter to your mother, and perhaps the first time she’d heard of Death Watch. She had no idea of the damage they’d cause and the letter indicated the beginning of the end. An eerie coldness hung above your head. Concordia was the home of the Death Watch. It was the home of Din. 

Your finger traced over the name of whom it was signed by; Ben. You had never heard of a Ben, and there certainly not a Ben of whom your mother had mentioned. You wondered who he was and why he had wrote to her with so much affection and care. Intimacy laced his words. You glanced over the blackened, ripped corners of the paper gazed over towards the forge. It appeared as though your mother had tried to burn the letter, but couldn’t bring herself to do so, and instead opted to hide it in the forge itself.

You folded the piece of paper back into a square and stuffed it into a pocket before feeling a blunt cold object press into the curve of your back. You froze in your movement and for a second you swore you forgot to breathe. You weren’t alone in here. You had been followed.

“You were the child of Duchess Satine Kryze,” a familiar voice declared. But where did you recognise it… the twisting of the foreign object against your spine made you remember all too quickly. 

“Ironic… the blade that killed your mother killing you too.” Moff Gideon chuckled. “Poetic.”

“You’ll never get away with this.” You spat, fury filling your body, your bones aching with nothing short of rage.

“Oh, I think I already have,” Gideon smirked. “Bind her wrists and take her to the cells for interrogation.” He commanded his army of Stormtroopers. Two of them walked by your side, one pinning your wrists together as the other cuffed them together. You tried to fight it, kicking back at them and screaming as loud as you could. Maybe Din was near enough so that he could hear. You then stopped abruptly. You didn’t want to lead him into danger. 

“Don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be.” Moff Gideon said.

“I have powerful friends,” you warned as the troopers began to drag you out of the forge. “You’re going to regret this.”

Moff Gideon let out a small huff of contempt before bringing out his blaster and hitting you on the head with it, knocking you unconscious. Everything went black.

The rambunctious green child yapped away as Din traced your steps back to the palace. He was on your tail, little did he know you had been abducted by the New Empire.

ੈ♡˳‧₊*: • ✩࿐ ˚.✧\

Borrowed Time taglist in the replies!

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#pedro pascal #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #Pedro pascal fic

[ruinedbylanadelrey]

In the air, In the Moon

Inspired by My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski

Joel Miller x Ghost!F!Reader

Summary: She was the first to go. Joel is learning to cope without his love. And then...

WC: only 4.6k warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, age gap (Reader mid 20s, Joel late 50s), bit of canon divergence, MAJOR DEATH (Reader), Reader is called ‘lovey’ by every one, Joel Miller crying a lot, TLOU PART 2 Spoilers, Ellie and Joel angst, Reader has long hair, domestic!Joel, husband!Joel, smut (ghost sex/handjob), suicide due to injury (Reader), hurt/comfort, murder hosue type beat (AHS SEASON 1), joel's suicidal thoughts, fluff, abuse (reader was a victim not form Joel), description of corpse, yooo sarah makes an appearance, i have poor knowledge of medicine, joel is a cat person, a little frank sinatra, religious imagery AN: Let's kick off October with angst, fluff, and smut. I'm sorry for what I wrote. playlist imagery masterlist

'Save who you can save'

He lost his head when Joel first saw you collapsed right outside of Jackson on a patrol trail. He expected someone older not so young and beautiful. You were a fallen angel coming into his life, you arrived alone and sick with the flu. He will never forget the whimpers when he picks up your body burning with a fever. 

"Shh, it's okay, angel, you're gonna get ya' some help," He gently picks up your body, and Tommy helps him get you on Joel's horse, setting up front so he could hold you up. Joel looks at how pale your skin is, the bruises scattered on your hands, and how ill-equipped you were to be out in the bitter winter conditions in Wyoming. 

Tommy and Joel came back with you sick, knocking on heaven's door when they had you rushed to the infirmary; rushed as in, Joel carrying you directly there and grabbing the town's doctors right from his office. 

"Found 'er out on patrol. Now listen here," His southern drawl comes out when he has tunnel vision on getting you well again. 

"You will give her the best medicine, remember I know whatcha got," Joel lets go of the poor man and watches him assess your state. Checking your temperature and finding you new clothes. When the doctor comes back with the set of dry clothes Joel brings him to a halt with a hand to the chest. 

"I want Nurse Cadence to dress her," Joel demands with a huff. The doctor nods and quickly goes to the nurse doing a check on the other patients. Cadence an older woman who was a nurse back before the outbreak. She comes with the set of clothes and a wrinkled smile. Joel nods and steps out of the room waiting for the door to open again. 

When Cadence opened the door, her face was in a frown and her eyes were welling up with tears. 

"She's been abused..." She weeps before wiping away the tears. Joel closed his eyes and bowed his head, he knew how heinous people were. He starts imagining the worst happening with you. Questions start bulleting in his head.

Joel could feel his benevolent side come out when he walked in seeing you asleep with your eyebrows furrowed and mouth agape. The doctor comes back with a wet cloth and drapes it across your forehead. 

"She needs sleep. I'll notify you as soon as she wakes up." Doc walks Joel out of the room to the doors. Joel waited for a moment before stepping back outside to the cold. Winter always made him nauseated and he really could sense it once images of your body in snow being left for dead wouldn't leave his fatal mind.

Winter was brutal, Joel tried to think about Texas and how it would get freezing but never snow and the sun would still come out. When was the last time he saw the sun? It's been cloudy and snowing for so long. He huffs out, his breath dances in the air like a ghost. Just another reminder that he is still kicking and screaming 50 years later. 

Joel would wake up every morning before patrol to head to the infirmary. You wouldn't wake up until 2 days later. You woke drenched in sweat, your chest feeling sticky, and your muscles all over your body just wincing in pain with every move you made. The day that you first woke up, you sat up straight in the bed and hyperventilated. Nurse Cadence had you calm down by breathing with your belly. 

You were shaking after your breathing evened out. Brain fog and general confusion were a mist in your brain. A tall gruff man stood at the doorway with flowers, where could you get flowers in winter? He was tan but fading to pale tan, had salt and pepper hair, and a leather coat that looked so warm. The nurse greeted him with open arms, maybe he isn't going to kill you? Where even are you?

"My love, this is Joel Miller. He was the one who found you at death's door." Nurse Cadence ushers in Joel and takes the flowers from his grasp. Joel's eyes were dancing around your face, taking in how the color of your skin was coming back, your flushed cheeks and nose, doe eyes full of fear. You froze in place, your heart slamming against your chest. 

"Howdy," Joel didn't know what else to do but stick out his hand. You quickly tucked into yourself and held up your hands for defense. You waited a minute before letting yourself look at Joel, he was at the end of the bed with his hands in his pockets.

"I-I'm sorry," Your voice was still horsed from not talking about days on end. 

"It's fine, just wanted to see how you were getting by?" Joel gives a half smile not knowing how to display his relief of you being alive. 

"I'm alive...I don't know how I can ever pay you back for saving m-my life," You bring your knees to your chest and wipe away the onset tears. Yes, you have been sick but he saved you from ever being found by your captor. It's been a long winter just as much as for you as it was for Joel. 

"Sorry, I don't mean to cry in front of you," You cleared your throat and blinked the salt water from your eyes. You giggled and that caused Joel to just fall to the ground and never your side like a guard dog protecting their favorite girl.

That small giggle from your pale pink lips was the butterfly effect to the end of your life and the start of Joel's suicidal thoughts again. But we aren't there yet in the story. 

That small giggle got you to where you were now, about to move outside of Jackson gates with Joel and the 3 kittens you recused. The farmhouse on the hill with a barn adjacent to the house. It was perfect Joel was getting his dreams with a few additions, you, his young beautiful wife, and 3 kittens that he didn't have the heart turn away from when you carried them in the house like a child. 

You were always trying to save others, which has caused you a lot of pain. Finding puppies and kittens on the brink of death, hoping you could cure them with the warmth of your heart. But it was like you were a living and breathing Grim Reaper. But these kittens were more than 4 months old and seemed to be living off mice and different kinds of rodents. 

When Joel asked you to be his love forever, it was a spring day and he took you outside of the walls of Jackson. He wanted to show you an abandoned home with a lot of land. You were excited to see the world again for the first time in a long time.

The hike to the pasture of land with a house that looked small until you got closer it got bigger. White paint chipped on the siding. The roof only missing a few shingles. A beautiful porch that wrapped all around the home. 

Joel watches your eyes grow wide and a smile paints across your face. You giggled and ran up the steps to the porch. Your hands glide along the railing, bumps hitting the ridges of your fingertips.

The giant columns towering over you, imagining having Joel install a hanging planter for the flowers that you love, maybe a few more for vines. You could see the cats liking to sit in the sun in the mornings and just sleep on the porch swing. A whisper of child-like giggles flows through one ear and out the other and a cold chill runs through your body. The hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention. 

"Do ya like the place?" Joel comes up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. You smile and nod trying to not show you were just stunned. 

"I love it," You turn around, and wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the end of his hair. He looked at you like he was in heaven and never had suffered through anything. The sunlight tinted the white sundress you had on, hugging your curves and complimenting your complex just perfectly. 

"I brought you here because there's different about you and well, my love, I want...I want this til' death do us part," Joel nervously rubs your back, and another chill shudders through your body, skin prickling all over. Maybe it was just hearing Joel saying forever or another set of invisible eyes watching you getting proposed to. 

You met his gaze and just drained from all color, seeing a little girl in the window just smiling at you. Joel watches your eyes flutter closed and you lose all strength in your body. 

"Lovey, are you okay?" Joel holds up your weight in his arms, you shake your head to bring yourself back to reality. Your hands slide down his built arms and intertwine your hands in his. You stand on the balls of your feet to reach his lips. You melt in the taste of mint and coffee on his tongue. 

"Til' death do us part," You whispered against his lips. 

Husband and Wife. Just like that. When you got back in town, Joel surprised you again with a small party at Tommy and Maria's place with Ellie and Dina in tow. You were always awestruck when Joel would pull romantic gestures. Your heart soared even more when Ellie approached and hugged you and kissed you on the cheek. 

"Congratulations, lovey." Ellie tried to sound happy, you could tell she meant it by her eyes screaming excitement even if she and Joel weren't on good terms. 

"Thank you, Ellie." You squeezed her when you brought her hand in yours. Joel nodded and looked away not knowing if he should hug Ellie. Maybe it's okay because this a celebration of Joel and you tying the knot. Ellie drops your hand, stands in front of Joel, and quickly rushes in for a hug. Without thought, Joel wraps his arms around the girl and kisses the top of his head. 

"Thanks, kiddo," Joel whispers to her. You move away from them, hoping they would have a moment to talk but that would be the last time they would ever talk. 

You started to help Joel fix up the house, and that meant getting up just before sunrise and not getting back into town after sunset. Always travel there and back with Joel. Never by yourself. 

"I'll be back a bit after noon, wait for me, lovey," Joel talks to you who was briefly awake to say bye to Joel. You groggily say bye and fall back asleep. He didn't know that you had a plan to take Ellie and Dina to see the progress going with the house. 

When you woke up, it was a race to get out the door and meet Ellie and Dina before they got there. The sun was giving warmth to the earth, morning dew wetting your shoes when you walked through the overgrown grass. Chirping echoing from tree to tree, you loved how the air was crisped and filled up your lungs. 

You stepped into the house and felt a sense of pride bloom in your chest. It was like the world never fell apart, and you and Joel bought a home to make your own. You walked into the kitchen turned the faucet on and saw actual water come through. You bit your lip and smiled at the thought of Joel being knowledgeable and how he still thinks like a contractor (his words). 

Having a man who knows what he is doing brings you such security. You turned off the water and went to the back shed to gather the paint supplies to hopefully lure Ellie and Dina to work with you today. Painting was the thing to do in the home. 

You hummed to yourself and heard a twig break from the woods. Your mind didn't set off an alarm, Joel always told you that this was safe. So that meant you were safe.

Right? He wouldn't let you be in a place that jeopardizes your safety. You quickly gathered the supplies and then went back into the house. Ellie and Dina were at the screen door talking about Jesse. 

"Hi girls," You greeted them and opened the door. They quickly saw the paint buckets and rollers. Dina was more than happy to pick up a brush and start painting the living room. Ellie followed you around like a lost puppy when you poured the paint into the pan. You handed a roller and showed her how to properly paint like the way Joel taught you. 

"He won't be here until later," You said casually to Ellie, the tension in her shoulders relax. You helped Ellie get into rhythm with her painting then you suggested putting on some music, no old country a request by Ellie. So you settled on some 50s and just listened to the jazz and classical mix together and created a dream state. 

Later came sooner than expected, Joel slamming the screen door and stuttering to a close. You jumped and bumped into the record player. The music stopped and Joel's heavy breathing took over the silence. Joel looks at you and only at you, Dina grabs Ellie and they walk out the door quickly. No goodbyes. Just the thuds of their shoes. 

Joel walks up to you and pushes you against the fresh eggshell paint. His breathing fanning your face, never seen him this angry since you first told him about the world you lived in before he picked his snow angel up from the ground 2 winters ago.

"What did I say this morning?" Joel asserts, you opened your mouth but he held up his hand. 

"I said wait for me, lovey," Joel softens together, his tone, and his eyes and he stops grinding his teeth. 

"I wanted to show the girls the house, and they helped us get a start on painting," You smile and him hoping to thaw his soft side more. Just so prettily, he nods and lays a kiss on your forehead. 

"And you were late, it's the end of sunset," You smirked and nodded to the window, casting a deep orange through the windows, he shook his head and a breathy chuckle. You always had to be right. He was late because the patrol Tommy wanted to do, was a bit further out from the original trail. 

"I'm sorry my love, what can I do to make up for it?" Joel leans his arm against the wet paint, you giggle and push him back from the wall. His hand grips your waist and pulls you into him. His hand-painted the clothes you had on. 

"I think you owe me some Frank Sinatra and a dance," You were drunk in love with Joel, it was nice to be with someone who had experienced the world and who knew how to be romantic even if you had brought it out of him. 

'Over and over, I keep going over the world we knew'

Joel pulls you in close, his one arm around your waist, and the other one with your hand in his. Swaying to the beat and when the violins harp and the trumpets blare he would spin you around each time, so effortlessly, feeling his body against yours. The broadness of his frame makes you feel small and so safe. You pressed into him and kissed his jawline while he kept you both swaying

'And the sun and the moon seemed to be ours'

You opened your eyes and could see the moon hovering in the sky and the sun was finally giving a wink before leaving the sky. It felt more right to be together in the moonlight. Joel was sweet talking to you in your ear, making you giggle and smile so much your cheeks started to strain. Joel spins you one last time and dips you back to plant a tender kiss on your lips.

You pull on the collar of his flannel and guide him to the ground. He hovers over you and cradles the back of your head in his hand. Joel tasting your skin, taking in your scent like this was the last time. 

It would be the last time. The last time he would make love to his love. His wife. Joel thought if you got to the home by yourself then you can do it again. You did do it again, but a stray infected had found its way into the property. 

You woke up early and made the plan to have Joel meet you there to work on the fencing while you stayed inside working on decorating with everything from Joel's home in Jackson. You didn't think to bring a gun with you since Joel said there hasn't been infected around in months.

You were trenching through the tall grass trying to make it to the house with snarling falling you. It was like you were running in slow motion through the dense prairie grass. Your mind racing with your feet and tripping, falling down and the infected following your motions. 

Screams scaring the birds away from the trees, and squawking almost intimating your pained cries. You grab the knife stab the infected in the jugular and spray blood across your face. The limped fungus falls in the grass next to you. 

The pain runs through your body, there was the mark of death with tendrils of Cordyceps etching over your veins. The birds echo again your cries, and you see a murder of crows flying away with your screams mimicked in their caws. You crawl to the steps of the porch and drag the pocket knife across your throat. You sputter out blood and it flows out your mouth like molasses and paints the white sundress you know that Joel loves. 

The crows fly over the town, still cawing your screams. Ellie looks up and to see them flying away from the direction of the farmhouse. Her feet were picking up and going to find Joel, he was riding back into town. She was rambling about how you might be in trouble and tears running down her face. Joel was confused trying to catch what was flying out her mouth. 

Ellie gets on her horse and Joel follows behind her. His heart sinks to his stomach, and his heart beats sweat running down his neck. The run-down grass leads right up to the scene. Joel hops off the horse before it stops. He is scrambling for balance.

Ellie gathers the horses and ties them to the tree, comes to see Joel on his achy knees holding you in his arms. Your skin is drained of color and cold to the touch. Eyes glazed over with a light film then dead infected a few feet away. The sun comes out from the cover of the clouds and shines right down you. 

Ellie felt her blood run cold and dropped next to Joel, watching him put pressure on your neck like it would make you comeback. Her eyes danced across your body and saw the bite mark on your left arm. She doesn't say anything but sit in the hot sun. Joel rocks back and forth crying into your hair, smelling the strawberry soap you had used the night before. 

'save who you can save'

Joel spent that night with your body prepared for burial. He stares at the table dressed in flowers surrounding your body, your hair brushed and curled with baby's breath pinned throughout your locks. You saw your body from the living room across from the dining room. Candles burning giving a romantic glow. Joel sits and pours another whiskey. If your dead heart could break again it would've when you watched the tears fall from his eyes. 

You wander next to him, causing the candles to blow out and a cold breeze by him. The blue moonlight shines on your body, and he sits up straight and holds his breath for a second and you quickly light the candles again. You don't want to spook him but to show how you're here and not really gone. Joel sobs out again and rests his head on your cold and stiffened arm. 

You gently a lay kiss on the top of his head, he shakes off the touch and buries his head into the flowers and just thinking about what he should've done. He should've gone with you, he should've built the damn fencing before even starting to work on the home. But he was too excited to start a life with you. Even have a baby with you. 

Joel buried you under the tree and planted flowers around it to mark your grave delicately. He wouldn't dare enter the bedroom, the bed was made up and he could feel your presence when he would open the door and just stare at the smallest things. The lotion bottle that you bought from Cadence in Jackson, rose hip oil and shea butter always making you smell and feel heavenly. He swears it lingers in the air, almost suffocating his lungs. 

Joel slams the door shut every time you saunter to him, taking how his eyes were always bloodshot, his beard was getting unkept which was not like him at all, his hair more grey than before. You want to make yourself known but he isn't ready yet. 

You didn't want to overwhelm him and put him in an early grave. You watch him every day, not leave the house, barely eating, talking to himself about you then start speaking out loud about Ellie not knowing what to do with her. You continued to watch him suffer until you worked up the energy to open a book of poems that you had cherished when Joel gifted to you. 

The book is laid open perfectly on the dining table, Annabel Lee by Edgar Allen Poe. Joel woke that morning and thought he opened the book when he was in a drunken haze the night before. He sits down at the table with a glass of his morning whiskey (what he calls it). 

'But our love it was stronger by far than the love' 

The line was underlined in pencil which laid next to the book and your signature heart that you always added to your notes. That morning Joel poured out the whiskey bottle and settled for water. 

You felt more energy as Joel began to accept your death. You kept up with the poems, Joel never denounced the dead lingering on the earth. He wanted you to be there physically and hold him while he would bury his face in the crook of your neck, tasting the shea butter on his lips when he would lay a sweet kiss right below your ear always earning a sigh from you and smile on your face. 

Joel finally walks into the bedroom and sits on your side of the bed, swearing it was warm like you had been lying there waiting for him to come home. You were there, caressing his thigh like how you always done. He loved it, he basked in your phantom touch.

Joel flutters his eyes shut and moans out, he unzips his jeans and pulls down his underwear, and his hard cock springs out, resting heavily on his stomach. You reach and wrap your hand around him, stroking lightly Joel falls on the bed, letting memories of you and him in bed together. 

He is falling into a dream state when you appear in front of him straddling your lap. You smile and just continue pleasuring him. Joel whimpers thinking his imagination is running wild. Having you in front of him, you fist his cock and feeling the warmth of his skin in your hand once again. 

"Always been so good, lovey," Joel moans, gripping the comforter in his fists, sweat beading at his forehead and an ache in his stomach blossoming to his balls, pulling tight. Your hand moving up and down squeezing him a bit hard when he releases his seed, coating your hand and his lower stomach.

You bring your hand to your mouth, feeling how warm his cum is and the musk and salt hitting your tongue. You moan out, Joel breathes heavily and reaches out to touch your hand but you disappear in front of his eyes. Sleep taking over his eyes and shuts out the bright moonlight. 

Joel sat with poems and read the new poem of the day well night now since Joel slept through the daylight, just absolutely heartbreaking. 

'Remember your hands; how did your lips feel on mine?'- Love, Pablo Neruda. 

The book slams shut and is thrown at the wall, knocking off your favorite painting of horses running in the scene. The candles blow out and the record player starts playing Frank Sinatra. You were trying your best to calm him down. You thought you were helping him to get over your death. Joel stands up, walks over to the record player, and moves tonearm off the record, but you quickly put it back on. The record scratches and continues the song. 

"Lovey, it's so sweet but I can't," Joel speaks out in the open, you wanted to show yourself but again he isn't ready.

But when will he ever be ready? When he's dead?

You bowed your head and just watched him leave the house. This is the first time in months, he's been off the grid from everyone since the day of your burial. He thought he could wander back to the old farmhouse and die there too. Every day hoping death will come. He lost you and lost Ellie. Abandonment took over that night. 

Joel would spend the rest of his days back in Jackson. Keeping an eye on Ellie until his dying breath. The last sight he would see with Ellie with blood flowing through her nose and her pleas falling on deaf ears.

When the world goes dark and cold, the fade-in is just so warm and bright. He is back at the farmhouse, you on the porch swing with the book in your lap wearing the white sundress he had you buried in. He walks through the prairie grass with the sage green button-up and clean pair of dark wash jeans. You shut the book and could see that he was in the best health ever. 

"Joel!" You scream out maybe this isn't real and this is all a bad dream. This is life and you two have a happy ending. 

"I'm here lovey," Joel wasn't crying, he was perfect. Like God just stitched him up in a few places. He sees you. He's here with you...finally. You run to him and he picks you up without the grunt he always makes. Heaven is a place on earth. With Joel and the farmhouse. 

Can the dead mourn the dead? 

You smile and bask in his touch and feeling him in this other side of life. The little girl that was in the house before still peeks around the corner to watch you and Joel find each other once again. 

"Joel, I'm sorry," You started to cry. You have never cried before. The wet tears stream down from your cheeks to your neck, Joel brushes his finger through your hair, looking how beautiful you looked, just a bit more perfect. 

"I'm home forever," He smiles and seals the words with a kiss. Death do us part isn't true when he's back with you in the ground. Joel looks at the house and sees the young girl, and his eyes grow wide when he sees that it was his first love, Sarah waiting for him to notice her. 

You smile a nod to him, the young girl introduced herself to you when you first showed up the house that first night after your death. 

Joel bends down to her height and brings her to his arms, smelling her scent again. That scent he would've moved mountains before. Familiarity comforting him even after death.

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou

[megalony]

Bound To Her

This is a Jonah Hauer-King imagine, requested by Nina, I hope you like it lovely, thank you for the amazing request and lovely feedback.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread

@jonahhauer-kingg @melaninjoys​ @luna2034 @mystiqueprincess @fangirl-tothemax @musicistheway @wandamaximoffbae

Masterlist

Summary: Jonah is broken when (Y/n) needs to take a break from their relationship and he has to find out why. He can't survive without her. (Little bit of angst and fluff to make up for it in the end)

Enjoy.

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"Dear God, how long have you been here?" Something akin to fear shook through Alex's voice when his eyes set upon one of his oldest friends.

Jonah did not look good.

The colour beneath his eyes was a dark shade of purple like wild berries with streaks of red slashing through. He couldn't keep either of his eyes open fully, they were half lidded and drooping down, raged with lack of sleep and too much alcohol. Jonah's complexion wasn't much better, his pale skin was verging on grey and his usually bright crimson lips were a faded shade of pink with white cracks slitting through them that disappeared when enough alcohol coated his lips.

Compared to normal, sitting here at the bar, Jonah didn't look his usual height. He looked like he would barely scrape five foot five with the way his back was arched, his shoulders were hunched and his long legs were hidden beneath the bar.

Both his hands were cradling an empty shot glass and the pad of his fingers were running around the rim, caressing it gently.

"A while,"

"Well I could guess that. Come on, I think you've had more than enough."

He didn't know what he had signed up for when he agreed to pick Jonah up from the bar. He thought he would just be ferrying his tipsy friend home and making sure he actually got through the front door in one piece. Now he could see Jonah, he knew that wasn't going to be the case.

How could Alex take him home and leave him alone like this? what if he tripped going up or down the stairs or fell and hurt himself? What if he passed out or threw up and couldn't look after himself?

"Do you wanna come stay at mine for the night?"

"I want (Y/n)," Her name rolled off the tongue like it was meant to be spoken by his lips only. It was so natural and free and loving and just her name made Jonah's eyes water and turned his world on its axis when he stood up.

He could hear the sigh that Alex let out before he felt his friend wrap an arm around his torso to keep him upright when it looked like he was about to keel over.

"I know, mate."

"No, t-take me to her, now."

"Is that a good idea?" Alex didn't know the ins and outs of what had happened almost a month ago. All he had gathered from two of his closest friends was that they were on some kind of break, and not by Jonah's voice.

Everything had shattered around him when (Y/n) said she needed a break. Jonah didn't know why. He didn't know what he'd done or what he could do to improve it and bring (Y/n) back. She was the only one for him, she was the light at the end of the tunnel, the person who understood him when others overlooked him. (Y/n) was home and Jonah couldn't cope without her. The longer he stayed away from her, the worse he started to feel until alcohol was the only thing that numbed the tears and the throbbing in his head.

He didn't know what he was meant to do anymore. Jonah couldn't operate without (Y/n). He woke up every morning broken and aching when he realised the bed was cold and empty beside him. He could barely contain his anguish when he stared at his phone and realised it was never (Y/n) calling or texting him.

He scrolled through their pictures and begged to rewind time and go back to the moments captured on his phone.

What did he do wrong?

"It's okay, I'll walk there." Jonah started veering to the left when he tried to walk without letting his weight fall on Alex but he stopped when he felt his friend grab his upper arm and pull him back.

He would walk the distance, he would walk all night if he had to so he could see (Y/n) and if she shut the door in his face he would sit on the doorstep and wait. He would wait until the world ended if he had to, but Jonah had to see her.

"Alright, alright. Where is she?"

Alex would never forgive himself if he let Jonah stumble off, intoxicated and confused like this. He would get himself run over or fall in an alley or get mugged. At least if Alex drove him and (Y/n) didn't want to see him, Alex could then take him home and make sure he was alright.

It didn't take long to get to (Y/n)'s sister's house where she had been staying since the break between her and Jonah.

Both men were more than relieved when (Y/n) opened the door, wrapped up in a jumper with bleak, tired eyes that awakened with worry when she realised who was here.

“I'm sorry, he was determined to see you.” There was an apologetic yet worrying look in Alex’s eyes which resonated throughout his posture. He had one of Jonah's arms slung over his shoulders and about half of his weight resting on him. He was the pillar keeping Jonah from collapsing on the doorstep and he knew if he let his friend go, he would fall down and not get up until the sun shone in the sky.

"Come in."

Both of them were surprised when (Y/n) opened the door and beckoned them to follow her inside. Alex had been prepared to take Jonah back to his house for the night and Jonah had been ready to sit and wait here for the rest of the night until he sobered up and (Y/n) decided she wanted to see him.

"He's had quite a lot to drink by the look of him." Alex stuffed his hands into his pockets, silently looking between (Y/n) and Jonah, unsure what he was supposed to do now.

Just one look at Jonah had tears welling up in (Y/n)'s eyes and a sadness brewing in her heart when he slumped down onto the sofa. He folded in on himself like a piece of paper, arching his back and pushing his head down to rest on his knees with his hands knitted into the hair at the back of his head.

He knew he was a mess, but he didn't care. All he cared about was (Y/n).

"Thanks for looking out for him, it's late, you should go home. I'll take care of him."

"Thank you,"

(Y/n) leaned over and indulged in a small hug with Alex before she saw him out. There was no point him staying and babysitting Jonah when (Y/n) could take care of him perfectly fine on her own. He wasn't a handful, he wasn't slurring or shouting or crying, he was a sombre mess and as heartbreaking as it was, (Y/n) could do this.

"Are you okay?" (Y/n) rested her hand on Jonah's back and started to rub soothing circles but she was taken by surprise when he leaned over and shifted his head onto her lap instead. His hands grabbed at her thighs as if to steady and ground himself and his breaths were hot and wet against her bare legs.

"I can't cope without you. I just needed to see you again, hear your voice… touch you again."

"I'm sorry," She could feel Jonah groaning into her skin before he slowly pulled his head up so he could look at her.

His deep green eyes were blown wide, presumably from the alcohol he'd been consuming all night, but there was a gleam in them that always made (Y/n) go weak at the knees. And when she looked down to his pale lips and saw his tongue darting out to wet them, she could feel everything stirring inside her, about to come bubbling up to the surface.

"I don't want you to be sorry, I just want you."

The alcohol was giving him the courage he hadn't had in weeks. It gave him the ability to speak to her when before, all he could do was stare at her picture and wish his thoughts could telepathically register with her. Looking at (Y/n) only broke his heart and she stole his ability to speak without meaning to. With liquid courage Jonah could try and talk to her after weeks of silence that was quickly killing him.

"I know…"

What was she supposed to say? What should she do?

He was drunk, he wasn't going to remember this conversation in the morning and he probably won't remember how he got here or what happened tonight. Having a serious conversation with him wasn't going to work, it wouldn't help either of them when (Y/n) was conflicted and Jonah was intoxicated.

But that still didn't help (Y/n) work out what she should do, right in this very moment. With Jonah looking at her like that and gliding his hand up and down her thigh, he made it very hard to think straight.

"What did I do wrong?" Something snapped inside (Y/n)'s stomach like an elastic band had been stretched too far and broken, shooting right through her heart and lungs.

She never meant for Jonah to think or feel like he had done something wrong, that wasn't her intention and that wasn't what happened. If she'd of known that was what he had been thinking this last month, she would have tried to speak to him. (Y/n) would have visited him and sought him out sooner if she'd of known he thought he had done something wrong.

He could never do anything that would make her leave.

(Y/n)'s hand started to shake when she reached up to cup his face and she could feel the tears starting to fall when he gripped her wrist tightly like it was his lifeline.

"Oh Jonah, honey, it wasn't anything you did, I promise."

The way she said his name had shivers rocketing down his spine and a fire igniting in his stomach.

"Then why did you go? Please tell me. I refuse to believe you don't love me anymore… and if it wasn't something I did, then I don't know what it was." Even though he was still highly drunk and some of his words started to slur and slow, he talked as if he was only the tiniest bit tipsy and not fully sloshed and inhibited with alcohol.

Maybe it was time to talk to him, set things straight between them. After all, (Y/n) wasn't sure she could stay away from Jonah any longer and he didn't seem like he was going to budge, drunk or sober.

Maybe if she told him, he wouldn't recall their conversation in the morning. She might just get away with clearing it all off her chest and having the slate be wiped clean when they woke in the morning. Things could change and move forward and she wouldn't have to torment herself any more or fear about hurting him.

"I didn't want to hurt you, I thought a break would calm me down and let me sort things out, put things right. If I'd of known you felt like this I would never have stayed away but I couldn't hurt you any more."

"Why would you hurt me?"

"Because I was scared… Darren was getting too close and I- when I pushed him away he kept coming back. He had wandering hands that never stopped and he said if I told anyone, everyone would just think I cheated."

The way Jonah slumped back against the sofa looked like (Y/n) had cocked back and slapped him.

She should have told him.

How could he help her if he didn't know what was going on? How could he protect her if she didn't talk to him and instead chose to shut him out because she thought it would help him. (Y/n) didn't have to protect him, she didn't have to save him from any pain because the only pain Jonah couldn't withstand was being away from her. This month had proved that. He could take anything but (Y/n) being torn away from him, that was his cryptonite.

"I broke us off so he couldn't threaten to tell you anything and I could get rid of him."

"Sweetheart, you need to know that I think so highly of you… but you don't have to protect me when you're the one getting hurt."

Jonah moved before (Y/n) could register what was happening.

His hand swiftly glided up her thigh and beneath her shorts until he could grip the soft flesh of her hip. He leaned forward and smashed his lips against hers before the alcohol washed away the little bit of courage he had and his unsteady balance caused him to lean into (Y/n) until she fell back. Her back hit the cushions and Jonah swallowed the surprised squeak she emitted while he steadied himself with his other hand pressed down beside her head so all of his weight didn't collapse onto her.

Part of him knew he should pull back, apologise and leave, but the other part of him, the selfish side told him to keep going. And he was only encouraged further when (Y/n) hooked her legs around his hips and let him lean into her and mould his hips against hers.

How could he turn away when she tasted so good? How could he force himself to leave when (Y/n) was his home and she was letting him get his foot back in the door?

"You've no idea how much I've missed you." He whispered each word against her sugary lips, barely parting enough to speak before he devoured them again. Too afraid to pull back fully and never taste her lips again. There were never going to be enough words in the world for him to describe how broken he felt or how horrible his misery had made him when he let her walk away.

Jonah didn't think he would survive losing (Y/n) a second time.

"I think I do."

(Y/n) kissed the corner of his mouth before she cupped his face between her hands and smoothed her thumbs over his flushed cheeks. She took a moment to commit his face to memory, to see the way his eyes sparkled with haze and lust and how his lips parted, eager to kiss her again and again until he passed out.

"Don't leave me again,"

The tender smile that pulled at her lips made Jonah feel weak and he didn't want to kiss those lips again just yet, he didn't want to risk breaking that smile which sent his heart rocketing in his chest. Instead, he let his chest lean down onto hers and attached his lips to her neck like a vampire starved for centuries.

In that moment, with Jonah's teeth biting to bruise her skin and his hands roaming every inch of her that he could grab at, (Y/n) knew she was done for.

She knew right then that she couldn't push Jonah away anymore, not when it was killing both of them to be apart and now they had collided together, nothing was going to stop him. He wouldn't leave her, couldn't leave her. He loved her too much to let her walk away a second time and (Y/n) couldn't break her own heart and leave him again.

The break between them hadn't been permanent, and now it was over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you thirsty?" (Y/n) felt Jonah's arms binding around her waist and his fingers splaying out over the front of her hips like he was about to pull her into a dance. His face tucked into the crook of her neck and her knees all but buckled when he bit down on the spot just behind her ear.

She barely managed to nod in response, feeling a hum vibrate from his lips through her neck before he gently turned her around and started to walk towards the table in the far corner.

His lean chest glued up against (Y/n)'s back and every inch of him pressed into her as they walked in sync, one foot in front of the other as if they were one person. Reaching down, (Y/n) held onto Jonah's arms before she turned her head to nuzzle her face against his curls and breathe in his scent.

They hadn't been here at the party for very long and (Y/n) was sure they wouldn't be here for much longer, either. Not with the way he was clinging to her and the force he kissed her with.

When they reached the table, (Y/n) reached out and grabbed two plastic cups filled with whatever alcohol was in the punch bowl. She could feel Jonah nudging her hair back over her shoulder so he had better access to her neck and it made her shiver. She could barely put one foot in front of the other when he growled quietly against her and the vibrations radiated through her back and shook her lungs in her chest.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

His arms stayed deadlocked around her waist while they walked slowly back towards the other room so they could sit down with Alex and a few other friends they had tagged along with tonight. But (Y/n)'s brain wasn't registering where they were going or what they were doing, she just let Jonah be her guide while she concentrated on walking properly and breathing slowly. If he carried on like this she was going to jump him.

"Wanna sit down?" (Y/n) felt how raspy her voice was and how quietly she spoke but she knew Jonah heard her when she felt him nod into the crook of her neck.

(Y/n) kept tight hold of the cups when Jonah suddenly spun round and flopped down onto the sofa, tugging her with him until she landed with a thud on his lap and some of the alcohol sloshed out of the cup and spilt onto her hand and his jeans.

He knew she was part-way drunk when she laughed instead of cursed at the spillage.

Slouching down, Jonah shimmied a little on the sofa until his back was arched down and he could spread his legs out, easily fitting (Y/n) on his lap with her legs dangling between his. His arms stayed bound to her waist and he perched his chin on (Y/n)'s shoulder so he could take a large swig of his drink before he let (Y/n) put it on the coffee table in front of them that his knees were bumping into.

Neither of them could concentrate on whatever it was Alex was ranting happily about. He could have been talking about the end of the Earth and they would have just smiled and nodded along. They were too amused by each other to bother taking a big interest in his drunk ramblings.

Biting her lip, (Y/n) tilted her head down a little when Jonah gently swept her hair over her shoulder before he attached his lips to the top of her neck just below her hairline.

He made a slow, wet trail down her neck, kissing over each column of her spine before a finger hooked in the top hem of her dress so he could pull it down and continue his trail.

(Y/n) sipped her drink, doing her best to concentrate on each gulp she downed and control herself so she didn't end up choking in front of everyone when Jonah decided to graze his teeth against her spine to wind her up. But when she felt his free hand suddenly pull up the hem of her dress, (Y/n) held her plastic cup against her lips to hide her grin from prying eyes and disguise her bush from her friends sitting around her.

She tried to stay still and act unaware, she really did, just to see what Jonah would do and how far he would go. And he kept going. His fingers dug tighter into her dress until he was about to put holes through the thin material and he raked it up her leg agonisingly slowly. He pulled it until her dress was bunched around her waist and he was about to keep going before (Y/n) realised her underwear was about to be on display.

Leaning forward, (Y/n) put her cup down before she turned herself around on his lap. Her knees dug into his hips, creating a hissing burn in his sides that only made him grin and her arms looped around his neck so she could tug his hair and tilt his head back to make him look up at her.

"You're insatiable, you know that?"

"Only when it comes to you," His hands found her waist again and he scrunched up her dress in his tight fists when (Y/n) barely let her lips touch his before she took his lower lip between her teeth.

"Get a room! You can't do it down here in front of everyone, you know." Alex nudged Jonah's shoulder but he barely felt the light impact. His eyes were enraptured by the girl sitting on his lap.

"Good idea," Jonah mumbled against (Y/n)'s lips, letting go of her dress so his hands could hold her bum while he shuffled to the edge of the sofa and sat upright.

He was bored by this party already, and he knew (Y/n) felt the same. It was time to find a vacant room upstairs or get a taxi home and continue this in private.

He had her back, and he wasn't letting her go. Not for anything in the world.

She wouldn't have it any other way.

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